#praying to the tumblr god it won’t be taken down

[callsign-marlie]

fly boy

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f! civilian reader

warning: mature content 18+ *minors dni!*, drinking/alcohol/drunkenness, unprotected seggsy time w/ consent, pregnancy kink (??) a lil twist at the end, but other than that really not so much shockingly

summary: a fated failed football catch in a precarious situation leads you to a night you'll replay over and over in your head for the rest of your days.

a/n: let's pray that the tags work today but HOO BOY this is my third time trying to post this, tumblr gods please be on my side.

if you need me, i'll be thinking up domestic situations with my favorite pilots k thanks <3

Your beer was flattening by the second, but you just couldn’t get yourself to pick up the sweating glass to chug it down. After all, you’d lose your one and only form of entertainment. Every few seconds, a little carbonated bubble floated to the surface and you would count as many as you could in a minute’s time.

16.

Already significantly less than what was coming up just five minutes ago. You tipped your wrist to peek at your watch again. Twenty minutes past the hour. He was late.

“Stood up, hun?” The bartender, Penny, gave you a sad smile, drying her hands on the towel that hung from her belt loop. “A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be sitting alone drowning in the amber depths, you know. You should be out on that dance floor with the others, enjoying yourself!”

A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes wandered to the group of people out dancing to the jukebox. People from all walks of life were dancing on the floor, singing at the top of their lungs, mingling in quiet corners, or playing billiards at one of The Hard Deck’s various tables. Everyone seemed to be in their own spaces, enjoying their own little slices of life while you’ve been stuck sitting there. Counting fucking bubbles. “I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes already, so there’s probably a good chance that the fly boy I met today ain’t gonna come hang out.”

The bartender crossed her arms, her hip coming out to the side. “Fly boy? You mean one of the aviators?” Penny huffed loud, ripping her towel from her belt loop and snapping it in the air before you. The wind from the whip made you flinch as it parted the wisps of hair near the top of your forehead. “Take it from me,” she started low, a pointed glare. “Never. Trust. Aviators. They’re gonna let you crash before they turn n’ burn out of there themselves so they don’t get taken down too.”

She grabbed at the now flattened lager on your coaster and poured another one straight from the tap. A new crisp cloud of foam rested gently at the top. “This one’s the house, hun. But don’t wait too long. That guy doesn’t owe you anything for wasting your time. It’s no use waiting on something that won’t ever come.”

You raise your glass to the bar patroness in thanks and take a long gulp. It was a bit more hoppy than you thought it would have been. Based on the color, you were expecting bitter, but not this almost refreshing tang tied with fruity undertones left on the bottom of your tongue. 

Coming out to bustling Miramar for an assignment, you never expected the variety of tastes, sights, and sounds you could come to encounter. You had quickly settled in on the scenic North Island base, finding the heat and sun of the beaches to be more relaxing than the hustle and bustle of your resident city.

A trip to the beach earlier that day with your favorite book should have been all relaxation and no fuss, but a stray football landing at your feet with a tanned hunk suddenly face up under your beach chair and between your parted legs left you with your heart beating in your throat. Your head was most certainly out of sorts.

He had those boyish magazine model good looks about him, two pink scars folding themselves down his cheek to mar his skin. Natural sun highlights fell through his dark locks and he smelled of coconut and sunscreen; salt, sweat, and the musk of the sand mingling. However, the fear and nervousness in his hazel eyes as he did his best to scramble away from beneath your beach chair left you awed. He stood at quick attention, his rippling abdominals tightening into a strict posture befitting a soldier.

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am, got a little too overzealous with that catch, ma’am. Please forgive me ma’am, I-I’m so so sorry.” He stuttered through his apology, his slim mustache crinkling up at every pronunciation of ma’am. Sweat lined the top of his lip and his aviator sunglasses were aske, covered with sand as he stood at attention. A pretty little flush was apparent on his chest all the way up to his ears. You did your best to come back to reality.

“I-It’s ok, sailor, no harm no foul. You’re not hurt right?” He relaxed just a moment, letting his shoulders roll forward with a deep exhale. “Not in the slightest. Sorry about that again.”

“Hey, things happen. Would have been cooler if you caught the ball though.” You tossed the pig skin back at your resident Baywatch babe and watched him recoil at the force of the toss, clutching it to his chest. “I’ll try my best to be cooler, ma’am. Make sure you watch, this next one’s gonna be for you.” A crooked smirk left his lips, and your chest fluttered.

Shit. 

He stopped his trot back to his buddies suddenly and turned around. “Also, I’m not a sailor, ma’am. I’m a pilot. An aviator. Call sign Rooster. But you? You can call me Bradley.” He left you breathless with a wink before bounding off. You barely had a moment to register what he said before you yelled back, “I’m (y/n)! And quit callin’ me ma’am, fly boy! I’m not that old!”

You had done your best to get back to your fiction, but always found your eyes gazing back up to the large group of pilots playing the most ridiculous game of tag football you had ever seen.  Another toss lobbed its way through the air and Bradley grabbed it easily from another tall blonde, clutching it to his chest before spiking it to the ground in victory. His eyes rotated back to you for approval and you gave him a small clap on the top of your now forgotten book. He faced you and gave a cheeky little bow before returning back to his match up. 

Son of a bitch.

Before you knew it, the sun was setting, but you didn’t leave that beach until the rowdy group had begun to pack up their things. Bradley was out of sight and you were slightly disappointed you wouldn’t see him again, but quickly packed up your bag and made your way back to your car.

You heard someone shout your name from behind you and found Bradley, still sun-kissed and beautiful, trotting up to you. “Hey, (y/n), lost sight of you! Thought I wasn’t ever gonna see you again.”

You threw your things in the back of your Volkswagen’s trunk and slammed the lid closed, leaning against the back cap with your arms crossed against the dusk. “I guess I was more invested in your game than I thought, but I still don’t really know who won.” “We had lost track a long time ago. We were just having fun at that point,” he grinned, tucking his hands into his jeans pocket. Even with night’s dark approaching, his smile was luminous. “But listen, I wanted to see if you wanted to catch a drink with me. There’s a little bar down the road over there called The Hard Deck that I like and wanted to know if you wanted to come by and have a drink with me. I gotta make it up to you for my little stunt somehow.”

A grin passed your lips, teeth and all. “Well, fly boy, I think that’s the least you can do for me. Wanna meet at 8? I have to run home and get myself cleaned up first.”

“It’s a date, darlin'. I’ll see you there.”

And that’s the last time you saw Bradley “Rooster” whatever-his-last-name-was because you were too in awe of him to think to ask for it. Or for his phone number, for that matter.

Recalling the event had you downing your fresh pint and scooting yourself off the bench with a wave goodbye to Penny. Fuck that guy. He couldn’t even pay you back for embarrassing you to sin; what a joke. 

Just as you were about to go through the swinging entrance doors to your car, your face bumped into a hard chest and the faint scent of coconut and sunscreen arrested your senses. Strong hands braced your arms before you stumbled back, steadying you upright. And there he was. Shining and bright, all smiles and youth and beauty. An Apollo of the night time. Just… not as regal as you thought.

Of course, as an aviator with a name like Rooster, you should have expected him to be wearing his sunglasses at night. He wore a simple white undershirt under an open tacky 80’s Hawaiian shirt, jean cut offs lingering just above the knees with flip flops to match. He tossed you a goofy smile, a hand immediately going behind his head. “Jeez, good thing I caught you. Gotta look where you’re going, dollface! W-wait, where were you going?” You tightened your teeth against each other, doing your best not to let them grind while you pushed past him.

“I was just going to leave, thanks.”

“What?! I just got here though! I still owe you a drink!” He sounded pitiful, like a child forced to come in from play too early. 

“You’re late, Bradley. A drink’s just not worth my time.”

A heavy pout crossed over him as he followed you out the door. Back to the cold outside. “Oh come on, (y/n), I was picking up some friends to bring! Look, look, look, how about this.”

Long fingers grabbed you around the wrist to spin your frame to him. As much as you wanted to slap his hand away, his pleading hazel eyes begged for only a moment of your time. “All of your drinks are on me tonight. Just come back inside. I wanna introduce you to my pals.” His gaze locked with yours, his intentions delivered to you by telepathy: pure, truthful, and genuine. A glimmer of hope. 

You broke your gaze first with a flush, moving your way back into The Hard Deck and yanking your hand away. “Fine, FINE. All of them. And unfortunately for your wallet, Mr. Rooster, I’m no lightweight.”

He laughed, a playful arm wrapped around your shoulders, that damned smile shining through his lips while he led you forward back into the crowded noise of the bar. A full man child, this one. So easily pleased.  “Mr. Rooster. That’s a good one. The last name’s Bradshaw, by the way. Bradley Bradshaw.”

Your nose crinkled at the thought, creased with laughter. “Jeez, did your parents hate your or something?” 

He grinned, tight lipped only this time. You didn’t catch his tone or his words against the clamor of the jukebox. 

He herded you over to a group of well dressed aviators in their flight uniforms, so very unlike his civie get up. A pretty brunette who waved and quickly moved to your side with a glass of something good, a blondie with a cocky smile who winked at you so much you almost thought it was some kind of tic, a shy guy hanging out in the corner with glasses hanging from his nose looking nowhere and everywhere all at once. There was a tall, willowy fella waving over from the dart board with a shorter, stronger man giving a charming grin trying to block the tall guy's shot. The final one was sitting with a pool cue in his hand waiting for his move to strike, so he only gave a nod in your direction.

Phoenix. Hangman. Bob. Payback. Fanboy. Coyote. Bradley had whispered all of their call signs into your ear while his arm draped around the plateau of your shoulders. His words were starting to slur from the constant flow of Budweisers in his system and his breath was getting heavier the longer the night rolled on. You yourself however, felt light as a feather: finally at ease and calm.

You laughed with your new friends and hollered with them at the final 8 ball shot Phoenix landed on Hangman and when she pulled the crisp $20 bill from his breast pocket. You cheered with the rest when the bar’s bell rang signaling a new round of drinks.

Time never stopped. The night felt like it rolled forever. 

And then, clear as a bell, a piano played.

You didn’t notice that Rooster’s arm had left its constant perch and was currently tickling the ivories placed in the center of the room. Phoenix, a blush of alcohol across her cheeks, pulled you to the center next to the piano to listen to Bradley play. God, the way his long digits danced across the keys was an intricate dance. A tango, a jive, a Charleston. Each beat was different, each tone rang true.

Eventually, a familiar tune shook through the establishment as Bradley’s deep timbre reverberated through its foundation.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain Too much love drives a man insane You broke my will But what a thrill,”

And suddenly, the whole bar erupted. “Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!”

A joyous laughs ruptured from your lungs as the song went on, your feet twirling you across the dance floor while Rooster sang out loud, His brow was beaded with sweat. Fanboy came away from the dart board to spin you around and around before launching you at Phoenix, who held you tight before you fell to the ground in your stupor. You both rocked together, holding hands and shaking your hips to the beat. You were free, albeit drunk, but free nonetheless.

In your drunken romp, you never noticed Rooster’s eyes on you the entire time you danced. He watched the delicate framing of your arms, the bounce of your chest, the way the strap of your top dropped from your shoulder. How beads of sweat made the strands of hair on your forehead stick, or the blush of alcohol spreading across your neck to your shoulders. You were radiant. Glowing, an angel on earth. 

“Rooster’s got the hots for youuuuu, girl,” Phoenix yelled, the bass of the room rolling in your chest. “He hasn’t stopped trying to touch you or look at you all night. He’s all eyes on you.”

She spun you to her quick, your neck snapping back to center with a giggle. Her smile was genuine, gentle and kind, letting you have ample time to return your own. “He’s a good one. I’d trust him with my life if I could.” And with a wink, she was gone in a flash to crowd the piano with her crew.

Your eyes drifted back to the piano man, his skin flushed and glowing under the spotlights. His head tilted back with a vein popping from his chest at the strain of the notes he was singing. The crowds were perched around his piano. 

If you didn’t act now, maybe you’d never get this moment back again.

“Hey Rooster, you big stuuuuud,” you drawled, raising your glass to him.

He smiled under his breath to turn behind him, as if he wasn’t watching you the whole time. His fingers never stopped playing. “What’s up, darlin’?”

You gave a devious grin, your nose wrinkling just the way he liked. “Take me to bed or lose me forever!”

“Show me the way home!” he howled, finishing off the final verse with the howls and stomps of the bar behind him. 

The crowd roared while he came up from his seat. He threw a huge wad of cash towards Penny, who gave him a knowing smile and a wink towards you. Don’t trust aviators, huh? Maybe this will be different, Penny. I feel it in my gut.

The cold of the night met your skin before you knew it and Rooster had you piggybacked to him before you could even scream to make him put you down. His abs rippled underneath your constricted legs, while his musk invaded your senses.

He walked and walked while you directed him to the place you were staying, as both of you were too in the bag to think about getting behind a wheel tonight. Your head laid on his upper shoulders while you talked about life: how you were a morning person and he was a night owl, how breakfast was your favorite and he could eat dessert for every meal.

Eventually, your surprise charter dropped you at the entrance of your home and you fumbled with the keys to unlock the door. You didn’t bother turning around while you walked in. You left the door open as you walked into the foyer, leaving your shoes at the door. That ball was in his court now. 

And thankfully, you heard the door shut on its own not too long later. 

You were in the kitchen with the lights dimmed low, grabbing some glasses of water and some pain medicine for your impending hangover when the pilot sauntered in. Sandals off, like a gentleman. You rolled a glass and some tablets in his direction, taking your own at the same time. As you gulped down the water, you motioned for him to swallow them. “Trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

He did as he was told and you watched a rebel droplet of water sink its way down the side of his neck, rolling down the skin of his jugular. Before your brain could process what was happening, your tongue was rolling along his salt-tainted skin, licking up the pesky drop to capture his lips. It was instant electricity.

You were never this forward. Never this powerful. Something had come over you, watching him play that piano. Feeling the weight of his arm on your shoulder all night. The weight of his gaze on your form. The heaviness of his words in the shell of your ear. The feeling of his hard body pressed against your chest while he jostled you the whole way home.

A surprised mewl left his throat before he registered what had happened. His lips pressed harder against your own, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip to seek purchase to its new territory. It was all carnal as his hands found the back of your head and tangled themselves in your hair. The gentle pull of his fingers roped a surprise gasp from your lips, your jaw opening. He pulled away from you for a moment to look over your wanton face, eyes half lidded and lips swollen. He dove back in, pressing the small of your back against your kitchen island. “I may not need to thank you tomorrow. I may just thank you right now.”

Your hands grazed themselves over the ripples of his undershirt (Hawaiian shirt be damned to the linoleum floor), and lifted the hem to gently rake your nails over the smooth skin of his abdomen. He sucked in a deep breath at your feather light touches while he pulled you to sit on the edge of the island. His digits groped down your body, gently fondling the front of your chest. The pleasant shocks that rose over your skin that left goosebumps and the hair on your skin to rise. You broke his kiss, your tongues ceasing their battle for the briefest of moments for you to whisper: “Bed.”

You hopped down to grab his hand and pull him towards your bedroom, doing your best to keep as many body parts connected to him as possible. You were both a flurry of mouths, hands, skin and nails. You couldn’t let each other go, even if you tried.

He lifted you from the floor and planted you on your back atop your comforter, kissing down your clothed abdomen and running those magical, calloused hands across the exposed skin of your thighs. His mustache tickled at your skin while he nosed up the hem of your top to lick a circle at your belly button. The dampness between your legs was becoming insufferable as you squirmed under him, your fingers aching to the nerve to pull him closer.

Your top was off and your bra was shed without you realizing, you left nipple wrapped up in the warmth of his mouth. Rooster’s tongue circled and flicked at the bud, grabbing a high pitched whine from the root of your chest. He popped his lips off only for a moment to smile at you.

“Well if that wasn’t the prettiest noise I’ve ever heard,” he mused, keeping eye contact while he attached himself to the right and repeated the movement. Your breath was coming in shakily at his ministrations, the heat in your gut an impossible ache that needed relief. “Roo… Roo- Bradley, please.”

“Please what, honey? Use those words.” His fingers took their time getting to your shorts, skillfully popping the button with two fingers. “What do you want? I’ll do anything you ask me to, baby.”

“I need you, in me. This second. Foreplay be damned, I need your cock now.”

That charming smile flew back to his lips as he left a chaste kiss to your forehead. “As you wish, ma’am.”

You raised your hips enough to slide off your shorts while Bradley simply moved the cloth covering your core to the side of your thigh. He rolled himself down the bed to inspect the site for himself, groaning out loud, his head tilting back in the dim light for you to see the gleam of his throat illuminating the love bites you left behind.

“God, doll, you’re soaked. Just one taste? Please? Pretty pretty please? It looks just delicious,” he moaned out, running the tip of his index finger over your slick. Moans fell out of your mouth like a stream at this point: it was a flood. “B-Bradley, stop, I’ll cum like that.”

“Maybe that’s what I want, (y/n),” he muttered, a new darkness overtaking his tone. He crept his way back up to your face, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached a point where his hardness was pressed against you. “Maybe I want you to cum all over my fingers. Make you cum so hard, you’d squirt all over the bed. I’d make you beg me to stop. I bet you’d like that, huh?”

As much as the thought pleased you, the image of his mouth on your pussy, fingers curled deep inside, his mustache making that sweet friction against your clit, you had to do everything in your power to shoo the thoughts away. Just the pressure of his dick on your wet pussy, the heat, the girth, and the insatiable hunger was enough to grab him by the back of his hair to pull him down to you. “Put your cock in me right now, Lieutenant.”

That was it. All guns were blazing. 

Rooster’s shorts and underwear were gone in an instant and he was lined up at your entrance at supersonic speed. He paused for a moment, the length of him resting on top of your stomach. His hands gripped underneath your chin as he left a sweet kiss on your lips. This man was a double edged sword; so sweet, tender even, and the next minute? A demon. A full, lustful demon ready to take you to hell with him. Now you understand Penny’s warning.

“Honey, (y/n) I don’t have any protection with me. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Bradley, I couldn’t give a shit if I got pregnant with your baby right now. I don’t think I’ve ever needed a cock as much as I need yours right now. Just fucking give it to me.” And that was the truth. The alcohol was burning out of your system like rocket fuel and you were nearly completely sober. You couldn’t even see what his cock looked like in the dim light of the nighttime, but you knew it was everything you needed and more.

With that blessing, his forehead on yours, Rooster slowly sunk his cock into you, each tantalizing inch stretching your walls just enough. You both groaned out loud as he kept pushing, little by little, until he was sheathed to the hilt. He looked down at your face, sweat beading along his chest, dropping a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your neck. A string of saliva connected between the two of you. A quick breath. “‘M gonna move.”

His hips rocked into your slick and you could have sworn you were going to melt. His left hand reached to connect to your neck and leave the gentlest of pressures while he pulled long strokes from your pussy. He grabbed a cry from you with each slide. Your lungs felt like they were going to explode, your heart fluttering in your chest at the pressure on your throat, his smooth voice whispering the filthiest things in your ears. Each time his cock, thick and veined, dragged from your heat, an emptiness and hollowness were left behind that only let you want more. More.

The more Bradley picked up his speed, the more comfortable you became. He released his hand from your throat and placed both hands on either side of your head. His face was close, his eyes half lidded with your mouths mere millimeters apart. You exchanged your breath, each pant and groan, each soft ‘please’ that echoed from your lips drove his hips forward to delirium. 

The heat in your core pooled and pooled until finally, it gushed free from you, a relief like aloe rushing over your system. Bradley captured your lips to muffle your scream to a moan as you rippled around him, the shock of the contractions nearly bringing him to his own premature end. When the shocks were quelled, he cooed against your skin. His mouth left icy spots along your neck, your forehead, your chest. “Atta girl,” he whispered before placing a kiss on your forehead. “That’s my girl. Good job, baby. So good. Wow.”

You reveled in his praise, rubbing your cheek against his shoulders in comfort. Your stomach was in knots, but was slowly untangling itself and burning up again at the fullness already within you.

“Lay on your side.” So gentle, his commands, that you did what you were told without a word. Your head was hazy and your vision was blurry in the dark of the night, but his hands enveloped your chest to hug your back to his own, his cock already positioned behind you. He slid in just as easy, this new angle eliciting the sweetest moan from his throat. You let your hands roll behind you to tangle themselves in his sandy locks as he took the liberty to move on his own accord. His strong left arm wrapped around your breasts while his right gripped the side of your hip, fucking himself into you at a speed you had yet to experience that night.

You tipped your forehead back to meet his eyes, his pupils blown out. “Cum for me, baby,” you moaned, the friction in your pussy pulling your coil back taught. “I want you to cum in me. Fill me up. I wanna feel you, please, I want it so bad.” 

At your words, his strokes only got faster, shorter, and hiccupped in rhythm. Bradley couldn’t speak: the only thought he had was to follow your plea. He pulled you tight to himself and spilled into you, his hot, heavy breath in your ear sending goosebumps down your arms. You shushed him as he moaned your name over and over, his hips sputtering into you. The feeling of him filling you was enough to settle the burning in the pit of your stomach, the flames dying out to a mere kindle.

You did your best from your position to comfort Bradley from his high, your fingers playing with his hair, your lips running along the curves and valleys of his strong arms. “You did amazing, hun,” you muttered, his small shakes and tremors running along your back. “I have you. I promise. I got you.”

He pulled you closer to him, breathing in your hair, your scent, your everything. The world slowly came back to focus to the point where he was able to dislodge himself, rolling on his back. You rolled back to your side of the bed and just laughed, garnering a chuckle from him as well.

“That was hot as fuck,” you said out loud, extending your hand out to the aviator. His grin was infectious, high fiving you in the process planted a chaste kiss on your palm to quell the burn. “Oh fuck yeah, we should do that again sometime.”

Rooster rolled on his side, a hand reaching to the bed stand beside him to click on the light. The warmth of the lamp rushed the room as he rummaged through a plate beside the bed, pulling a silver ring from the mess of notes and dog tags to place it back on his left ring finger. He wiggled his fingers, a whole man again, before dropping his wrist back to the bed. “Certainly spiced things up a little, don’t you think?”

Your own band was already back on your own left finger, giggles erupting from deep in your chest. “I can’t believe you even got Penny in on it, you pervert! Recreating the day we first met, the bar, the guys. Even the shirt.” Lo and behold, Bradley, the perfectionist he was, dug out the the exact same dumb Hawaiian shirt that he had wore the first time he took you for a drink after that fateful game of dogfight football. Where he introduced you to the Dagger squad. To where he piggybacked you home the whole way. To the first night you kissed and swore up and down you wouldn’t ever be with a Fly Boy.

But here you were, three years later, happily married, and freshly moved from your shared apartment in Virginia to your new home in the newly promoted Captain Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw’s station in North Island. 

He’ll be teaching advanced aerial maneuvers to the new incoming classes of Top Gun along with Hangman and Phoenix.

You reached your arms out to your husband, making a grabbing motion. “Come here, hot stuff, gimme some sugar.”

“I think I gave you enough sugar tonight, sugar,” he laughed, enveloping your form against his chest. You planted gentle kisses along his breast bone to rest right over his beating heart. You hung there in silence in his arms, naked, comfortable, warm.

You had almost thought by the way his breathing slowed that he had fallen asleep before you could clean up, but his voice whispered out from the dark when your own eyes had begun to drift. “Hey (y/n), I have a question for you.”

“What is it, love?”

“I love you. So much.”

You tilted your head up, an eyebrow raised. “Roo, that’s not a question, baby.”

“And it never will be.”

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick ff #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #top gun fanfiction #HALLELUJAH THE TAGS ARE ALIVE!!!!

[2many-art]

Dang I’m so behind what I posted on twitter that I still haven’t show you guys the doodle I made for my 500 followers

You can find full version (beware for monster pp) on my twitter (@/2manyhusbandos1) but you’ll have to skim through my pinned post because it is a bit far away now (check the milestone doodles category)

#praying to the tumblr god it won’t be taken down #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanart #obey me lucifer #obey me nsft #nsft #🌃.art #🌌.lucifer #🌠.my art

[kingsuckjin]

Ungodly Beast 2

⸸ Pairing: Devil! Jungkook x reader, Priest! Namjoon x reader

⸸ Rated: M (18+)

⸸ Genre: smut, horror, fluff?, angst?

⸸ Synopsis: You’d rather go to hell yourself than let the devil take your baby, even if he helped create him… even if your little boy is beginning to sprout horns.

⸸ Warnings: (may contain spoilers) death, kidnapping, kind of depression and some heavy feels, satanic symbolism, voyeurism, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (please wrap your ding dong before playing ping pong), more sinful shit, male masturbation, dom-ish reader, strangulation (like also not in a sexy way), dom! Jungkook, spit kink, the most dirty talk you've ever seen, fisting, fingering, dick size kink, daddy kink, degradation, impreg kink, pain kink, devil kook still looks wild, spanking, branding, choking, hair pulling, biting and scratching, blood play/blood eating, tattoo kink, really rough sex, a very jealous Jungkook, more death/murder, a very brief mention of drugs, fluffy sex, gore, a fight scene, it's just graphic and awful.

⸸ Words: 15k

⸸ Note: I’d link the first part in this fic here, but tumblr has been doing this cute little thing where if you insert a link in something then the fic won’t show up in the tags. So I very sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, but you’ll have to go through my masterlist to find part 1. Also, an anon told me that this fic goes really well with the album Too Weird to Live too Rare to die by panic at the disco, specifically the song Far too young to die, so if you're looking for something to listen too while reading this, then that would be perfect.

"What have you done?"

Those were your mother's first words after telling her you were pregnant. You had no idea how she knew, perhaps it was the worried, troubled, tired look on your face that that told her. Maybe she just sensed it, sensed the seed of half evil already taken root and growing inside of you.

You stayed silent, confirming an unspoken conclusion between you. She clutched at the rosary around her neck as her shocked, open mouth quivered and glossy tears pooled in her eyes.

"You didn't…" She whispered, "please tell me you didn't." 

Out of shame, you still didn't speak.

"How did you know?" You finally decided to ask.

"I've dealt with him before, I know the way his terrible presence feels, and now I feel it with you. I almost can't stand it." Her words both stung and made you have an unsettling feeling that crawled up your spine. Was it simply the baby she had felt? Had he marked you somehow and now it was you making her feel like this? Or was he with you? Silently watching and waiting.

"What did you give for the child?" Your mother was nearly in sobs now.

"He didn't tell me at first-" you began to try to defend yourself but your mother cut you off.

"He never does. What was it?" 

"He's taking him…" you felt the prick of tears sting your eyes now too. You had to cover your mouth quite suddenly to keep a sob from escaping. It hurt to think about, to talk about. You were afraid. "...when he turns five."

She took your hands between hers and looked you in the eyes.

"We will do everything we can, I promise. We will fight."

You nodded and attempted to blink away the tears.

"Pray with me. We can pray. God will help us, I know it." 

You nodded again as she gripped your hands firmly in hers reassuringly. She let her head fall slightly and closed her eyes prompting you to do the same.

As she started with her prayer, you began to feel a ringing in your head, the sound grew and grew until it was piercing, drowning out her words. A tsunami of nausea overtook your body so powerful you jumped up from your seat at your mother's kitchen table, knocking the chair back as you ran for the bathroom in a dizzy haze.

"Ah, they should call it all day sickness instead of morning sickness." Your mom had committed, seeming to brush it off, but you knew in your heart and deep in your soul that something was very, very wrong here.

From the moment you first saw him, you were in love. His big doe eyes, his chubby little cheeks, his soft little hands, and feet. Although he had no horns or black eyes, you tried hard not to see his father in him, which was difficult sometimes.

The worst memories for you were taking him to get baptized as a newborn. He had screamed from the moment you had entered the church and nothing you could do would calm him.

The moment the blessed holy water touched his skin, you watched as it seemed to burn and blister his infant skin in just seconds. You went out to your car in the church parking lot, 

calmed him the best you could before strapping him into his car seat, and you cried.

You cried because while he seemed to be a normal little baby, your son, the baby you feed with your own body, sing to, bathe, and love, you were occasionally reminded of what he was and that you might only have him for a very short time.

He still whimpered in the back seat just as you did in the front. Guilt and sadness and fear prompted you to get out of the car and into the back seat where you unfastened him as his pout only worsted your feelings. You took his small body in your arms and held him to your chest. Your nose snuggled into his mess of fluffy dark hair.

"I love you. No ones ever going to take you away from me. I don't care what you are, you're my son more than anything." You let your tears fall onto his head.

That wasn't the scariest thing you had been through though. The worst was the nightmares.

The first was just under a month after he had been born. You had sat up in your bed covered in sweat, the house felt like an oven. Your heart was beating hard even before you had heard it coming through the baby monitor.

Singing.

It sounded high and angelic along with the happy coos of your son. As your groggy mess faded with the race of your heart you also realized it was in a language you not just couldn't understand, but had never heard anything like it before.

It took no time at all for you to practically leap from your bed, and dash from your room and down the hall to your son's room.

As you pushed his door open you saw him. You felt like your heart was beating in your throat now as you saw him with his back to you holding your son, bathed in only the moonlight that the sheer curtains of the nursery let in.

The singing had turned to a soft hum. You realized how wrong you were upon pinning his voice like an angel. You saw the horns sprouting from his wavy hair that dangled as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to do anything to save your baby and keep him from being taken away from you. He was a newborn, it wasn't even time.

You couldn't do anything though, and you didn't know why.

Horrifyingly you found yourself yet again drawn to him, in awe at his presence.

"You can't…" you managed to choke out.

"I will." He didn't turn as he spoke to you. After he spoke, you woke up.

You couldn't sleep very long for months after that nightmare. 

There was no denying by age two and a half that he looked more like his father. There was also no denying the little bumps you found while brushing his shaggy hair that sat on the top of his head under his skin. Most mothers would be concerned, wonder if their child had gotten hurt, and bumped their head a few times. But you just sat there frozen, feeling the bumps. You knew what they were, they were his father's claim to him, they were forming horns.

"Mommy okay?" Your son noticed your strange and oddly still demeanor as the hairbrush dropped from your hands onto the bathroom tile where you sat. 

That's when it hit you the hardest. Your baby was halfway there. Halfway gone. All you had done so far was helplessly try to deny the fact that he was coming for him. He would take your little boy and drag him to hell if you didn't do something to fight this, find some way, something, someone to help you.

"Mommy?" your son had turned around and was now reaching for your cheeks to smush with his hands like you often did him. His face read of concern and question. Your heart melted at his little gesture. You took in his sweet little face again, his little two front teeth poked out just a little. You couldn't help but squish his face gently right back.

"Mommy's okay." You tried to reassure him the best you could, and it seemed to work. Lucky for you toddlers were sweetly gullible.

The moment you got free time you sent a text to your mom telling her you'd be dropping her grandson off at her house tomorrow, you didn't wait for a reply as you already knew she would jump at any chance to see her grandson whenever she could.

You then made a very important series of phone calls.

"Thank you, thank you so much for meeting with me today on such short notice father-" 

"Father Namjoon or just Namjoon is fine." He interrupted. "And don't mention it, I'm here to help. You mentioned problems with your child?"

You took a deep breath and let your face finally show the worry you felt, your bouncing foot on the floor let out your anxiety. You sat there in his office at this tiny church. Worried he would throw you out the moment you told him the truth about what was going on.

Father Namjoon sat across the big worn wooden desk from you and waited patiently for you to further explain. Behind him on the wall was a massive cross along with pictures with him and maybe members of the church pinned to the wall.

" I'm afraid I didn't tell you everything over the phone because… well, every priest I've called said I was crazy and hung up on me after I told them." You admitted and watched as his body language changed with his growing attention.

"But father Namjoon, I swear on my son's life that what I'm about to tell you is the truth. My son is no trouble, but his father is. See, I would've brought my son in today, but he gets these… headaches and nosebleeds in churches." 

You watched his reaction carefully, he curiously tilted his head.

"Go on…" he urged.

"Because his father… is… the devil."

Namjoon gave you a nod of understanding that was far too casual for the words you said.

"I have proof." You defended before he could even think to refute your claim.

"I believe you." 

"What?" You asked thinking maybe you were only hearing what you wanted to.

"Listen," he leaned forward so that his arms rested on his desk. "He's real. I know he's real. The nervousness in your voice and you say you have proof… you seem perfectly sane to me. When can I meet with your son? Would your home be alright?"

"What are you doing right now? He's with my mother right now."

"Let's go." He said with sureness and no thinking time behind it.

He followed your car to your mother's home. You watched as he got out of his car and just stood there in the driveway, staring at the home.

"Something wrong father?" You asked as he brought forth the cross around his neck and clutched it tightly.

"I can feel him."

"My son? My mom says the same thing about him. We just assume he carries the same feeling as-"

"Not your son, the devil. He's here." 

Your heart began to race at the thought of encountering him again. Maybe you had gotten in over your head by asking a priest to see him, but you had to do something.

"Your cross." You stopped father Namjoon as he started to walk towards the door. "I'm sorry but you can't have it near him. My mother had to take down all of hers when he was born." 

His eyes seemed to shift around nervously before finally taking off his cross and putting it in his car.

"No worries." He gave you a reassuring smile. 

You expected more upon entering the house, not just for your son to casually be sitting there watching tv.

You and your mother had exchanged silent, nervous glances upon her letting you in and seeing the priest.

"Hey buddy, someone wants to talk to you." You knelt down and told your son but he seemed to ignore you.

Your mom turned off the tv, but it didn't seem to affect him.

"Touch his head." You whispered to Namjoon.

He stepped forward and crouched on the floor.

"Hey, little guy! What kind of show were you watching?" He placed his hand on your son's head to pat it but quickly retracted it.

"Don't touch me." your son spoke clearly and firmly. His speech was nothing like his normal, broken toddler way of talking.

You looked at Namjoon who still looked shocked by something, it had to be the growing horns.

"Daddy said don't touch me." Your son spoke again perfectly as if he were a few years older.

Daddy said

"Oh my go-" you couldn't help but let out at his words. Had his father been around this whole time? Just watching him… and you?

"I won't touch you, I promise. Could you turn around for me?"

Your son did as he was asked and faced the priest, looking up at him with wide, almost terrified eyes.

“Can I show him your back?” you asked knowing he would let you touch him before he would a priest. Your son nodded but seemed confused. 

You lifted the side of his shirt and showed Namjoon the mark spread along the ribs. The upside-down thick, black cross.

“Quite a birthmark you have there.” Namjoon joked with the boy.

“His father has the same one."

Namjoon stood to his feet which prompted you to do the same.

"Can we talk?" His eyes flickered towards the front door.

"Yeah of course." 

"Possibly off the property?" He added and you gave him a nod.

“I'll be back” you assured your mother as you left with the priest.

He led you to his car before asking if you wanted to get a coffee and told you he needed it after what he had just seen and felt. You understood and agreed.

He continued to apologize on the short drive there, but again you understood his need to process this.

It wasn't until after you both had gotten your drinks and sat down in a quiet corner of the shop that he began to talk openly.

“I’m still not sure what to think of all this, but I know you're not lying. He looks like him. My…” he let out a sigh as he played with a pink packet of sugar. “My grandmother had a run-in with him once, never said why or how, but she described him and the way his presence felt. I just don’t think it's your child making me feel that way. I really need to ask what happened between you and...his...father.”

“I-um..I…” you too took a deep breath and decided to explain everything as detailed as you could from summoning him, to only having a few years left with your son. You felt ashamed as you explained to this priest how you had slept with the devil.

Namjoon didn't seem to judge you though, as a matter of fact, he looked sympathetic. He seemed so sweet, kind, and understanding.

“I’m not sure what I can do here,” he told you and reached across the table to place his hand on yours “but I promise to do the best I can. I will do what I can to help protect your family and son.”

You felt the honesty and sincerity in his words, it felt so comforting to you.

“It’s going to be hard, I can just tell he doesn't want me there. I don't know if it’s because I’m a man or because I’m a priest. Let me ask you a rather personal question, have you dated at all since your son was born?”

“No.” you shook your head “I don’t want anyone getting attached to my son because I just don't know what's going to happen. Also, I’m afraid…he might do something. I just… I don't want to put anyone else into this that doesn't need to be.” that part hurt you too, you just felt so lonely on top of it all. “I've had no one to turn to with all of this except my mother.”

“Well, you have me now, okay? You don't have to feel alone anymore. We can solve this together.”

Namjoon had come up with a plan to meet with your son every other day, and at the end of the week, he would meet with only you and talk over the progress, if he had made any at all.

Just a few months in, there was a difference. It seemed his method of slowly introducing god and holy objects such as crosses were beginning to work, he no longer got headaches and nosebleeds around them, and his horns while still little bumps under his skin, they had stopped growing. That also happened to be the month your mother got very very sick. No matter how many times Namjoon came and prayed over her, she still continued to just slip away until she was gone.

And now you had no one but Namjoon.

The day after she passed away was the hardest. Your son was still too small to fully grasp the concept of death, but he still cried about his grandmother never getting to play with him again.

You had waited until you had put him to bed and he had fallen asleep to pour yourself a glass of wine and just cry.

Nothing could distract you from the pain, from the heavy misery, not even the pouring rain and house shaking thunder.

You had turned off all of the lights, the only thing that would occasionally light the room was the lightning.

You felt so alone, more alone than you've felt in your life. You tried hard to sense him, but he just didn't seem there. The one time you felt so desperate and alone, his presence didn't loom over you. 

“I hate you,” you spoke out loud. “If you can hear me I hate you. I hate that you've done this to me, I hate that you took her from me and your son. Are you really watching over your son or do you just love to see me suffer? Do you love to see me alone? Huh?” anger coursed through you as you talked to the walls “Answer me!” you yelled a little too loudly and worried that you would wake your son up so you decided to be quiet.

The desperation and loneliness felt like it was suffocating you, you had to do something.

You felt pathetic calling him up this late, but once you heard his voice you already felt better.

“Hey, how are you hanging in there?” 

“Not good Namjoon.” you sniffled “I-I just feel so alone, so in over my head. All the things my mom has done for me I just…” you did your best to hold back tears.

“Do you want me there? Is it alright if I come over so you don't have to feel alone?”

“Please?” Your plea was squeaky and weak.

“I’ll leave right now okay? It's just important to remember that you're not alone. God is with you.”

“Thank you. I don't know what I would have done this past few months without you.”

“Please, don't mention it.”

You don't know how it got here. You had only had a half a glass of wine in total, and a two-hour deep conversation and now you had pulled him into your room and you were ripping off each other’s clothes as if they were tainted.

“Fuck me” you tossed your shirt to the floor and pressed your lips back to his with ferocity. He sharply exhaled through his nose at how turned on he was by your demand, although you could feel it through his underwear. 

“You sure?” he mumbled into your lips. You let out a hum into his before sinking to your knees.

“Fuck.” he muttered, mesmerized as you pulled his underwear, letting it fall at his feet and letting his cock loose.

You let little time pass between the moment you saw his cock and putting it into your mouth. You were hungry for touch, for affection, for sex, for companionship, and you were sure to show that in the form of his dick in your throat. It was as if somehow you hoped it could fill that strange void that had existed in you for far too long.

He thrust in tandem with your head bobbing while letting out groans and sharp breaths of pleasure that just told you that it had been a while for him too. 

Thunder rolled in your dark room as you suppressed a gag and let your spit dribble down your chin. You were dripping with need at just the thought of sex.

As a brief flash of lightning lit the room, you swore you saw him in the chair in the corner of the room, legs crossed, watching you.

Could it have just been your imagination playing tricks on you? Could you have been just thinking about him? Was it what you wanted to see?

You closed your eyes as you took Namjoon deeper into your throat, letting the tip of your nose connect with his thin patch of pubes.

His hands tangled in the back of your hair.

"Can- can we have sex? Please? This feels too good to take this anymore." 

You took him from your mouth and got into the bed on all fours. He took a moment to take your body and pose in for a moment, but once his brain seemed to function again he got behind you on the bed.

His fingers ran down the skin of your back almost making you shiver.

He yanked your underwear down around your thighs and ran his fingers along your soaking folds.

"No teasing, fuck me."

You heard an almost inaudible moan behind you before feeling his tip at your entrance.

The feeling of him slowly sinking into you, filling you, felt so nice after so long.

"Be rough with me."

"O-okay." He stammered and grabbed the back of your hair to pull on as he began slamming into you.

The skin of his thighs slapped at the meat of your ass over and over, but it somehow just wasn't enough.

"Harder, call me names." 

"I won't- I can't call you names." He panted his refusal.

Thank god he was behind you so he couldn't see you rolling your eyes.

"Stop stop, stop." 

His hips quit moving at once.

"Lay on your back." You had had enough and wanted to take this into your own hands.

One he pulled out and played down you straddled his hips, reaching down to guide his cock into your entrance before sinking down on it.

The moment you slowly moved your hips with him buried inside of you he began to moan. You picked up his hands and placed them on your breasts.

"What do you think, father?" Your voice dripped with seduction as you clenched around him.

"You're so- oh god- so beautiful." 

"Wrong answer." You stilled your hips making him scramble for the right words.

"Your pussy is so wet… just for me." 

"All for you." You began to move your hips again with the answer that satisfied you. Possibly to make sure they didn't stop again his hands drifted down to your hips to move them faster on his own. You couldn't help the loud moan that slipped out of your mouth at him taking control just a little.

"You take my dick so well." 

"Fuck fuck." You chanted, moving your hips faster, feeling so close to losing it. You couldn't lie, the thought of him being a priest was really about to get you off right now.

"Such a bad girl." He murmured. Maybe he felt the same.

"Does it feel good being in the same cunt as the devil has been?" You teased.

You swore you heard a very short, unamused chuckle from somewhere in the room. 

"Fuck yes, fuck I'm so close." He aggressively moved your hips now, his fingers digging into your flesh and finally making you cum.

"Up up" 

You got off of him fast and watched ad his hand went around his cock to give it a few short jerks. His thick cum spurted from the tip. Coating his hand and shaft.

"I'll get you something to clean that up with." You climbed off of him as he quickly nodded.

"Darliiiiing" 

You felt a hand on your thigh that woke you from your sleep.

"Wake up, I need you." Your face contorted in confusion at Namjoon's words.

"Too tired." You muttered into your pillow.

"But I'm so hard for you." His deep voice whispered in your ear sending tingles through your body.

"All I can think about is your wet little cunt of yours. I'll do whatever you want me to darling." His hand ghosted up your back until it came around and reached your neck where he left it

"Mmm." You hummed in satisfaction as you rotted your ass into his once again hard dick.

"You like that? Hm?" His voice was so thick and rough with sleep. "What if I squeezed just a little?" His fingers tightened slightly around your throat.

You were more than ready now for round two, it seemed he had found some courage between when you fucked earlier and now.

"Who does your pussy belong to, darling?" 

"You." You whispered mixed with a moan. You needed him back inside of you so badly that you ached for it.

"You lying whore." His grip on your throat tightened, so much that it became almost impossible to breathe.

You struggled against his grip and tried to pry his hand from your throat.

"Your body and cunt belongs to the devil. Evil courses through your blood." You could hear the hate in his voice through his gritted teeth.

You tried to kick at him, hit him, but you could feel the tightness in your face and brain from lack of blood flow and oxygen.

"Stop, please." You attempted to choke out as your vision grew hazy.

"You belong in hell too." 

You thrashed until there was no more pressure on your throat, your hands and feet collided with nothing.

You sat up in your bed covered in sweat. You were alone and once again your room was as hot as the pits of hell themselves.

You picked up your phone from the nightstand, almost blinding yourself with the light from it as you checked the time. 

Namjoon had left hours ago. He had left upon your request.

"What the fuck." You sighed as you flopped back into your bed.

As you laid there the weight of reality seemed to feel heavier and heavier on your chest, crushing.

Your mother was dead, you had fucked a priest, the devil wouldn't leave you alone, and you had very little time before your son was gone forever.

Your bedroom felt too large, too spacious for your lonely body just as all of your problems did. Would you end up sucked into it all? Eaten alive? Was there any point in fighting at all?

You swallowed down the lump in your throat but it was no use. You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and leaked into your hairline as you stared up at your ceiling.

"Please" your word brought forth your sobs in the empty room "make it stop. I'll do anything but give up my son, just make it stop."

You couldn't help it, for weeks after your dream you felt weird around Namjoon. The rational part of your brain knew he wouldn't hurt you, although you still denied any little advances he made. It did fade, and once he took you out to dinner and you let him put his hand on your knee, but he was careful not to overstep boundaries.

You thought about calling him one night as you laid there sleepless in your bed. You don’t know how you had gotten so turned on but your body felt so hot with need.

You tried to just roll over and go to bed, but your sensitive clit throbbed along with your heartbeat as if begging you to touch it. Sny motion you made at all only made things worse until you gave in.

You pulled up your oversized sleep shirt and shoved a hand down your panties. You paused a moment as you realized that it wasn't just getting off you needed, but contact with someone.

You went to reach for your phone on the nightstand, but your hand didn't even meet it before you froze.

"Don't." It was a command.

Your eyes flashed to him sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, just like you thought you had seen him a month ago with Namjoon.

You quickly pulled your hand from your underwear and sat up with your mouth agape.

"Did you miss me, darling?" His horns tilted as his head did.

"Get out of my fucking house and leave me and my son alone!" You growled, clutching your shorts angrily in your fists.

"Why? So you can fuck that priest again?" He held up his index finger, slightly shaking it making a tsk-ing sound. 

"Why does it matter to you what I do?" Your voice was stone cold.

He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned forward in the chair with a smirk. You couldn't stop yourself from thinking how regal and utterly beautiful he looked. He looked far more casual this time in a black t-shirt and jeans, but nonetheless majestic and powerful.

"You must've forgotten. That's alright, I wouldn't mind reminding you. I'm not here for our son, don't worry, not just yet."

"Then let's talk about that." 

"Talk?" He gave a little smile "we can talk. Come here." 

Although you wanted to, almost needed to, you stayed in your bed.

"Then feel free to keep going… unless you want some help."

"Tell me why you're here." You demanded.

"I'm here to save you. You called me."

"I didn't." You argued.

He beckoned you over once more as he stood from the chair. You got out of bed this time and stepped closer.

"You've done nothing but try to get my attention for months. Don't argue, you know I'm right. I can hear it again, that delicate little heart of yours fluttering when you see me." He reached a hand out for you, you took it, it was just so warm in yours. You let him pull you in until your back faced his chest with his hands on your sides.

"You called me, see?" You closed your eyes as he whispered to you, your bodies swayed together in a nonexistent song. It felt as though he was pulling you deeper into a trance, and you let yourself go.

"Does that heartbeat for me? Do you live for me? Do you want me?" You felt his nose graze your neck, the hot air from his worst trailing behind it. You had dreams of this moment for years. His whispers, his touch, the way he made you feel drunk and hypnotized you, the way he made you feel whole.

"Yes." You couldn't lie, everything but the truth had melted away, you couldn't feel or speak much else. You were weak for him, weaker than you remembered.

"Then are you mine?"

"Yes." You answered once more.

"I'll talk to you my love, about whatever your heart desires. First, tell me what it is you want from me." He whispered as you felt him grip the hem of your sleep shirt at your thighs. His hands brushed your skin. You continued to sway with him, eyes closed, worried that if you opened your eyes that this would all be a dream, worried that if you looked at him you'd fall deeper.

You didn't want to say it, you didn't want to admit you wanted him right now. He had done so much to you. Your internal struggle was hard, you wanted him desperately, yet he had done so much to you and your family. Even your closed eyes couldn't hold back the tears that escaped.

"Why did you take her?" A single son escaped but you shut it down, you refused to show all of your weakness.

To your surprise, he gently shushed you.

"Darling, I didn't take her. Her soul was never mine to take. I don't decide who lives and dies, it was just her time."

You were stunned, why was he comforting you? Why did it feel so good?

"Please don't take our son, he's alI have now, he-"

"I've thought about so many things. We can talk later, no tricks, no lies. You don't need to worry. Just let them all fall away and tell me what you want."

You bit your lip as you felt his cock begin to twitch beside you.

"You already know I want you." Your voice was a soft, weak whisper.

"Yes, but do you want me to hold and comfort you? You've been struggling so much with that. Perhaps you want my cock buried so deep inside of you that it hurts. Or maybe you just want me to pump that belly full of a second baby." 

His hand slid into your panties as you let out a gasp of excitement. Every nerve in your body felt hypersensitive, so when he slid his finger over your slit you cried out for him.

"All of it. Please, I want it all." 

"What a greedy, needy little bitch. Did that boring god loving freak not satisfy you?" He teased as his finger dipped into your folds and teased at your clit.

"N-no." You stammered.

"You didn't look like you were having much fun, not until you saw me at least." He seemed so amused by it. "I'm a little mad you let him poorly use you like that" he seemed to growl making slight fear go down your spine. "Who fucks you better? Who has a bigger dick?" His finger circling your clit picked up speed with the ferocity of his words.

"You." Your breath was already short.

"Tonight, prove to me that you're mine, that you're devoted, that you'll do whatever it takes for me, And I'll show you I'm yours." 

This wasn't happening, you couldn't believe the words he had just softly said into your neck. Your disbelief was cut off by your quickly approaching orgasm. You let out a whine as your knees turned to rubber, you would've fallen had he not have been holding you tightly against him.

"That's it darling, let me have you, let go for me." Your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb and all you could do was whine.

"Such a good girl." He still held you tightly and placed light kisses on your neck and collarbone as he took his tattooed hand from the front of your panties.

You let out a small shriek when he picked you up and carefully set you on the bed. He could've broken you in half right then and there, if he wanted to.

"On all fours, ass facing me." 

You hurried into position for him, and for a while, you felt nothing until you felt the fiery sting of a slap along a cheek.

You sucked in a breath.

"What's the matter baby, can't take it for me?"

He was so wrong, you loved it.

"I'll take whatever you give me." Your words were followed by the pleasure of another slap.

"Fuck it." He muttered and suddenly you were dragged by your legs onto his lap where he positioned you over it.

"Take anything for me, huh? We'll see about that." The slaps kept coming until your ass felt raw. You arched your ass up for him as you let out a needy whine.

"You're so fucking wet, it's everywhere. Do you want me to touch you? Is that what you're whining for?" 

You let out another whine.

"Say it."

"Please touch me. I want you to touch me." 

"I'll give you what you want." You knew that tone he used, it was the tone of having something else planned.

His fingers immediately sunk into your core.

"You're wetter than I thought, I could slide whatever I wanted into you so effortlessly." 

You could hear the sounds of his coated fingers working you too.

"Whatever you want." You replied hoping it was his cock, but you knew better at this point.

"My love, I'm going to absolutely fucking ruin you."

You went to reply but suddenly felt the slight stretch and sting of more fingers entering you.

"Ahhhh." You let out but backed up further onto his hand, still wanting more.

"What a good little whore, look at you riding my hand and taking it all for me." 

You loved the pain, and he gave it to you like no one else could. You were already ruined for anyone else, but he didn't know that.

His hand felt so deep inside of you that you swear you could feel it in your stomach.

"Harder." You begged,  and he obliged.

"You like me filling you like this, slut? I'm going to stretch your pussy so well for my big cock."

You continued to rock backward in tandem with his movements, it didn't take long at all until you were almost there, panting and gripping the sheets.

He stopped and slowly pulled his hand from your cunt, leaving you feeling more hollowed out than a pumpkin.

You left his lap and looked at him just in time to see his shirt come off. His body was just as beautiful as you remembered it, something of pure art and fantasy combined. Tattooed, muscular, and smooth you just wanted to lick every single inch of him, you had to.

You climbed back into his lap and pushed him back while you leaned forward and placed your lips to the very warm flesh of his collarbone. Your lips made their way down slowly to his nipples and enveloped one in your mouth.

"Ah." A sound of surprise and pleasure came from him, and you loved it, you loved that you could make him feel that way, you wanted more.

You took your mouth from his chest and crawled backward until you sat between his legs.

You undid his pants and pushed his underwear down along with him. You had almost forgotten just how massive his cock was. It was veiny and the tip was a blushed shade of pink that made your mouth water.

You spit in both your hands and wrapped them both around his shaft.

You slid your spit slicked hands over his leaking head before slowly bringing then down to the base.

"Faster darling. Don't play with me." He threatened with a grunt. You did as he asked and even added your mouth.

His hands tangled tightly in your hair at once.

It was hard to take him even halfway into your mouth without you gagging around his size and thickness filling your throat.

As you sucked his dick, you stared at the three black sixes on his lower stomach and watched as they moved as his muscles flexed.

"What I wouldn't give to cum down your throat right now."

You moaned around his cock at the desperation and lust in his voice.

"So fucking good for me. You suck my cock so well with your little whore mouth." He gripped your hair tighter but still not enough to hurt.

Him lying there, moaning and groaning as you pleased him made you all the more impossibly wet, you could feel it as you squeezed your thighs together.

"Please come here." He asked as he released your hair and sat up.

As you let his cock leave your mouth and too sat up only for him to lift and drag you onto his lap once again. He reached down and guided his cock into your entrance.

As you lowered yourself onto him he made a noise that should've stopped your heart.

It was a moan and a sigh all at once, he combined that with dropping his head onto your shoulder. The fullness and warmth of his cock inside of you, every little move he made, he was all just too much. How could you survive something like this a second time, especially with being this close to him.

He didn't move even an inch for a moment, not until he lifted his head off of your body and peered at you with those inky black eyes through his just as inky dark hair.

His net movements were fast, rough, and hard. He grabbed your hair from behind, forcing your head as far back as it could go without breaking anything. Your chest was arched towards him and he used it to his advantage by taking a nipple into his mouth as he bucked his hips into you quickly. All you could do was grip his shoulders for dear life as he fucked into you, fingernails sinking deeper and deeper into his muscular flesh the closer he pushed you to your high.

You felt the little sharp sting of him pinching your nipple between his teeth. You couldn't help but fall completely apart as you moaned out the filthiest curse words that you could.

Once he let your hair go and you could properly look at him, you saw beads of dark liquid forming on his shoulders. Your nails and grip had drawn blood, real human blood.

All you could do was stare. He bled just like you, he was vulnerable just like you, just like anyone else.

"Hm?" He caught your staring but seemed confused.

"I-I hurt you. I'm sorry." You furrowed your eyebrows with guilt.

He laughed, it was a real laugh, not a teasing one, not an unamused snort. His nose crinkled and his more prominent two front teeth were made more visible.

"It didn't hurt, I didn't even know you did it." He tried to get a look at the little droplets himself before wiping one away with his finger to show there was no mark left, he had somehow healed.

Each fleeting glimpse of his humanity vanished as soon as you spotted it.

His dick was beginning to soften inside of you despite him not getting off yet.

"Did you want to kiss it and make it better for me?" His voice was seductively playful and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not until he brought his blood-smeared fingertips to your lips.

You looked him in the eyes as you took them into your mouth and sucked them clean. He looked satisfied and you could feel his dick twitch back to life inside of you, showing you how much he liked that. Without a second thought, you attached your mouth to his shoulder and began to lick and cuck at the blood droplets where the wounds once were. The moment reminded you of when you were a child and they told you that wine was the blood of Christ, except this was so much better. You wanted to show him you were willing to take him in any way possible, to submit to every desire he had.

He pushed his now hard cock as far as it would go into you.

"I want to do something to you." He whispered as he continued to slowly thrust.

"Do it." Your reply was fast.

"It's going to hurt you." He added.

"Do it."

“I will. For now, shut up and bounce on my cock, slut.” his tattooed hand grabbed throat “ and you better fucking ride it harder and faster than you did that stupid Jesus loving freak.” his face read of disgust.

“Yes daddy,” you replied trying to hide the smirk at the satisfaction on his face from you calling him that.

He dropped his hand from your neck and you began to move your hips as he laid back. You would normally start slow, but you let him have it. Everything about him was incomparable to anyone you’ve ever slept with.

“Fuck, like that baby.” His hair was messy, his eyes were squeezed shut and his tattoo that looked like a snake that wrapped around his torso almost looked like it was slithering. 

“You like that daddy? I took every inch of your big cock just for you.” you loved the power over him that he was letting you have and you were going to make sure you got to enjoy it.

His hand shot to your hip and he squeezed.

“I swear If you fucking make me cum right now you’ll fucking pay for it,” he grunted obviously trying to hold back seeing as his hand was digging into your skin as if it was the last lifeline between him and losing it.

“Don’t you want to cum in my pussy daddy? Fill it full of cum and watch it drip out of me?” you continued to tease him and bring him even closer as you jackhammered up and down on his rock hard dick.

“Fuck, this is your last damn warning bitch.” his jaw was clenched, but it was too late, you were already falling apart on top of him, once again saying the dirtiest shit you could as he shuttered under you, barely hanging on as he watched you cum.

You paused, breathing heavily for a moment of rest, but it didn't last long. He was pulling out of you and throwing you face down on the bed, holding your hands by the wrists behind your back.

“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” 

“Sorry, dadd-”

“Did I say you could speak bitch?”

He wasn’t even inside you anymore but you’re empty walls clenched as you let out a small moan onto the bed sheets.

“Now let’s see just how fucking much you’re willing to take. Be good for me darling.”

You were scared but excited at the same time, the adrenaline that coursed through your veins was nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

“Yes daddy.”

“Don’t fucking move.”

You listened and stayed completely still.

You felt his hand cover the back of your neck. It got warmer and warmer until it felt searingly hot, it was burning your skin. You bit down on your lip so hard it had to have left a bruise just to keep from screaming. There was no way of stopping the whimpers that came from you in the few seconds that his hand was on your skin.

“There,” he said and sounded as though he was admiring his work before releasing your body and letting you sit up. By the time you sat up though, the pain was entirely gone as if it had never even happened.

“It’s the mark, to match.” you knew he meant that he had just branded you with an upside-down cross to match his and your son’s. You were too busy noticing the wetness on your cheeks and wondering where they had come from to concentrate on this strange sentimental moment.

You felt something warm roll down your cheek and lifted a hand to wipe away what you now realized were tears, but he gently grabbed your wrist.

With his other hand went to your chin and guided your head to face him.

You were met face to face with him, his dark eyes peering into yours and also assessing your wet cheeks.

Both hands now went to your cheeks and his thumbs wiped over the wet mess on your skin. 

He was trying to dry your tears.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” his voice was quiet. It was a glimmer of sincerity, a splinter of sweetness.

“I didn’t even feel it.” you joked but he didn’t buy it or laugh, instead he just continued to stare into your eyes with both hands on your face.

He leaned in so slowly, head tilting slightly and his lips met yours so gently. Your eyes closed and pressed your lips harder into his.

It was a sweet kiss but it held the strength and intensity of being punched in the stomach.

Your hands came up to roam the back of his shaggy, dark hair but your mind was elsewhere.

You imagined him as an average man, your son as a normal little boy, you imagined a family. Cuddling on the couch, touching him whenever you pleased, your son being able to play with his father, your life with him would never grow dull. However, your daydreams were dashed as your hand accidentally met with a horn. 

What was wrong with you? You knew these things were stupid and unattainable, he was unattainable. Although you had known this fact from the start, here you were sleeping with him again. He fucked you over so hard, he was pure evil and you knew it, but yet here you were falling for him even harder. To be fair though, was there a soul living or dead that could resist him, that ever has been able to?

You pulled away, his hands left your face.

He looked at you with wide eyes, he looked almost shocked, scared. There was some kind of very deep feeling moment between the both of you, some kind of wordless exchange of revelations. 

A million things you wanted to say to him flooded your mind at this moment. There were so many things you wanted answers to ”Do you know how miserable I was? Do you know what it felt like waiting for you in fear the entire time? Do you know how much I hate not being able to hate you? Do you know how bad it hurts me seeing your face in my son’s? Do you know how badly you ruined my entire adult life? Do you know how hurtfully perfect you look? Do you know how lucky and cursed I feel all at once? Do you feel any weight for the things you've done to me and my family?” but you were too scared this moment would end, that he would never come back, that he would take your son and leave. You wanted to cry, but you pushed the entire internal war out of your mind, you boxed it all away just to not ruin this moment.

During your thoughts and your stares at one another, his face had softened and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/n” you realized that it was the first time he had ever spoken your name out loud, and as beautiful as it had sounded coming from his lips, you didn't want to hear it spoken so guilt filled. “I’m so sor-”

"Are you going to make me cum again or not?" You broke the silence, and he seemed thrown off for a moment. You didn't know what he was apologizing for, but you didn't want to know. Not only did you want to shut this sad moment down just to have the fun back, but something inside of you hurt to hear and see him like this.

An expression you were familiar with him having flickered onto his face, a smirk. It relieved you and set the fire in your body back alight.

He tackled you with his hands wrapped around you. You were flesh to flesh, his lips moving to the space above your breasts, sucking hard before moving onto another are.

“Dont fuck anyone else.” it wasn't sharp like his normal demands, it was almost as if he was asking you not to without making it into a real question.

You almost snorted as he continued making an army of marks that continued to trail lower and lower.

You almost snorted sarcastically.

“Then who the Hell am I supposed to fuck?”

“Me, fuck me.”

You did sarcastically laugh at this one. 

“Don't laugh at me.” he said defensively before sucking a new place by your belly button.

“What? Every few years you’ll swing by and I just have to wait until then?”

“No. Are you even enjoying this anymore or have you now set your focus on calling me out?” he looked up at you with an arched brow.

“Calling you out seems more fun right now.” you were only half joking, all of that hurt hfrom earlier was now festering back up to the surface upon hearing his stupid lies.

“I told you I’d talk, and I will. Trust me.” he sat up and looked down at you.

“I’ve trusted you before and that was shitty.” you argued.

“Then why the fuck are you fucking me now? Why the fuck are you letting me mark you? Why the fuck are you telling me you belong to me?” he shot back.

“BECAUSE I WANT TO PRETEND YOU'RE NOT… NOT...I DON’T KNOW...THE ACTUAL FUCKING DEVIL!” you whisper yelled at him through clenched teeth.

He came down over you and looked you in the eyes for a moment with such a look you thought he might kill you, but instead his voice was quiet and calm.

“If you think I’m incapable of feeling then you’re wrong, you're dead wrong. If I didn’t feel, then why would I want my son? Why have I been watching him grow, watching you love and take care of him and doing my best not to interfere with your time with him. I may not be mortal but I have feelings, I have empathy. Do you understand the shit I have to see and be in charge of? Do you know what it feels like to just want something so pure in good while living in something so fucked? Watching you and our son has been the only sliver of heaven that I’ve ever been able to have.” his arms were shaking as he held himself over you. You had never seen his body show any signs of tiredness or weakness, even his wounds had healed right up. He was shaken talking about this and it was obvious.

It hit you hard. Why would he want to take him? Why did all of this just make sense?

“So please, don’t take this away from me right now. Let me make you cum again, let me just have this for a little longer and we can talk.”

You were stunned. He had felt the same way, he wanted to drag this out just as much as you did, he wanted to cherish this. The question now in the air was, if you both wanted to be together, then why couldn't you?

You yanked him by the hair, forcing his lips to collide with yours. Your tongue clashed with his split one, but it no longer surprised you or made you nervous. While little about him was normal, what was normal anyway? From the moment you saw him as he really was you had thought he was perfect, so why until now had you been wishing for him to be the man you first saw at the bar? Was it because the puzzle piece of his humanity had been missing in an otherwise perfect puzzle?

Your teeth gnashed together as if you were young, new lovers blooming with anticipation, as if you had never touched before now, despite fucking for god knows how long already.

He bit at your already sore lip you had bitten down on, but he wasn't harsh.

“I want you.” you told him meaning more than just how he took it. He reached between both of you and pushed himself into your already abused core, you winced from the ache and the sensitivity.

“Close your eyes” his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear his instruction.

You closed them though.

“Now imagine me like you.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Humor me.” 

You did, you imagined him like he was the night of the bar, like you had thought of him earlier.

“Now run your hands through my hair.”

With your eyes still closed, you felt for his hair before coming them through the soft, wavy strands. Your eyes opened just to make sure what you were feeling was correct. As you looked at his hornless head, his brown eyes looked down at you. Now you properly looked him in the eyes and now that you could see his irises, you knew now that he was looking right at you, not just at you though. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen with a small smile of amusement.

“I just wanted to have this moment with you, like you. I thought it would mean something to you to not have to look into cold, black pits.” 

The man looking and speaking to you right now was not the devil, he wasn't horrible or evil but neither was the man he was before but you were yet to know why he did the things he did.

You lifted your neck this time to kiss him and his lips chased yours as you laid back onto the pillow. He once again slowly began to thrust, short breaths and quiet moans escaped you both. Your legs entangled around his hips, angling your own body so he could hit just the right place.

“Be with me.” his voice shook as he continued to thrust “I’ll do anything.” he sounded just so weak as if he were pleading.

“I’m already yours, don't pretend you don't know that.”

“Let's have a family then, I’ll stay.” he rested his forehead on top of yours, his eyes were closed, hips still moving hard cut slow as if with each powerful but passionate thrust was a chance to convince you to be with him.

“As-” you could feel yourself coming closer and struggling harder to catch your breath. “As long as you stay.” You knew it, if he went away, if you lost him tonight, nothing would ever feel this good again, you'd never feel this complete for as long as you lived.

“Let's start now on expanding.” you could see his slight smile before his voice turned serious and sultry.” want me to put another baby in you?”

“Please, fuck I’m so close.”

“Come on baby, cum for me one more time.” he picked up the pace with his hips up just a little more. “Let me get you pregnant again.”

He only thrust into you a few more times before you were coming undone underneath him.

“Fuck, I love you fuck fuck fuck.” you moaned as he also let go, burying himself deeper than he already had been.

“I love you, I love you too.” he messily kissed your lips as you felt his last few pumps slow.

Only when he had said it back did you realize you had said it at all. 

You were still breathing heavily as he pulled out and laid down next you. There was silence between you, for a while as you both recovered.

"I said I would talk so here it is."

You decided to just lay there and listen to him.

"I've always known we were supposed to be together, always. There are things I just know, I can't explain it, sometimes I just know destiny and sometimes I don't until certain events happen. Ever since I became the king of hell I've always known that eventually there would be one woman that would bring me to my knees. They call her Lilith, although that's not her name just as satan, the devil, whatever, isn't mine. There have been stories and mythology written about you that just aren't true, much like everything else in my life. When I met your mother, I knew I was fucked. So I stopped you from being able to conceive, how was I supposed to know I was only helping destiny along? When you summoned me I was nervous, although curious as to what you would be like, I never watched you until you began to work on summoning me. I developed a plan. I thought if I just gave you what you wanted and then took it away from you then you would hate me, you would never want to see me again, but yet again I plated into destiny. The moment I saw my son… when I watched you care for him and love him, I-I felt this longing. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to be with you both. I kept my distance and fought against the urge to just drop in and tell you how I felt. I resented you for the power you held over me, but at the same time I wanted to give you your space and let you have your time with him. I was still going to take him but at that point it was out of love. I knew you were still angry with me anyway, rightfully so, I also thought… that you couldn't love someone like me anyway, you were better off with a mortal and I wanted to let you live your life. I watched your pathetic attempts to protect our son from me, at least you thought you were only trying to protect him. You're a good mother, just like yours was. When our son was really little I used to sneak into his nursery and just hold him and stare at him, I could see you in him. The point where I knew I had to step in was the priest. Not only did he treat my son like his, not only did you fuck him and make me jealous but-"

He abruptly wet quiet just as the anger in his voice seemed to pick up.

"I'm sorry." You replied.

"It's not that, it's not any of that that makes me hate him, it's not my jealousy." He still didn't say what it was, but instead he got out of bed.

"Where are you going?" You sat straight up.

"I'm going to shower if that's okay." He replied as he shuffled for the bathroom attached to your room.

"Sure." He was already in there by the time you uttered out your dumbstruck reply.

He had said he would stay, you don't know why him doing average things in your home just astounded you.

You laid back in the bed with the reassurance of him planning to stay and you thought about it all.

At first you asked yourself what your mother would think of this, what she would say. Maybe if she knew everything that he had just told you she simply wouldn't say anything at all. She had been able to love the devil's son and see him for just the little boy he really was, so maybe she would've done the same for the devil himself had she really known him.

You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the stickiness of his speed leaking out and smearing all over your thighs.

Some part of you was nervous to go into the bathroom with him showering in there, but it was your house.

You ran to the bathroom as fast as it could to keep the cum from dripping everywhere and making a mess on the floor.

You paused as you caught a glimpse of his silhouette through the shower curtain.

His horns had returned, but you didn't look at him as much as his overall shape, you could help your staring.

"I hear your heart again, are you looking at me?" He chuckled and your eyes went wide with the horror of being caught.

"I…"

"Do you want in here with me?"

"...y-yes?" 

"Get in, I promise to just let you shower, no funny business." He offered.

He kept his word though, he did his own thing in the shower and so did you. He did look jarringly beautiful with the water beading on his tattooed skin and muscles, but you didn't know how much more your body could physically handle of him so you kept your hands to yourself.

He got out of the shower before you, you were a little concerned at the silence so you got out soon after.

You found a fresh towel and pajamas waiting for you on the bathroom sink so you quickly dressed.

He just sat there in a white t-shirt and black sweat pants at the foot of your bed. His head was down and he looked to be in deep thought as he stared at the floor. He looked a little sad.

"Have you seen him since you've been here?" You asked curiously, making him finally look up and shake his head.

"Would you like to?"

He seemed shocked by your offer.

"I wouldn't want to wake him…" 

"It's alright, he's a good sleeper, he'll go back to bed… if you want to that is."

"I really really want to, I haven't seen him person to person since he was a newborn."

You led him down the hall and pushed open your son's cracked bedroom door.

His night light dimly lit the form of his little body snuggled in his toddler sized bed.

You let his father take a few apprehensive steps into the room, slowly approaching him before he knelt on the floor by the bed.

You just looked on at the little moment.

He gently pushed his son's shaggy hair from his sleeping face, but caused him to stir.

"Daddy?" You heard your son's sleepy voice ask. You had no idea how he knew it was his father, and from the look on his father's face, neither did he.

"Hey buddy." 

Your son sat up and threw his arms around his father's neck, who promptly picked him up and stood. He wrapped his arms around the little boy, holding him close.

"How did you know it was me?" 

Your son unwrapped his arms from his father and looked at his face.

You saw his lips begin to quiver and his eyes fill with tears as he started to break down.

"Oh no." You whispered as you saw your boy stare at the horns on his father's head.

"Your horns are scaring him." You whispered.

Your son patted the top of his own head as he sobbed in his father's arms.

"Me too, I too."

"Oh." You said as you realized that your son was answering his dad.

"You have them too? That's how you knew, huh?"

Your son nodded to his father and began to cry harder. His dad pulled him back into his body, lightly shushing him and patting his back. He buried his head in the little boy's hair much like you had the day in your car after he was horrifically baptized.

The moment hit you like a train.

He had missed his father all this time, and you had no idea.

"you know I'm always with you, right? You and mommy both." 

Your son nodded into his father's neck, soaking his shirt with tears although his father didn't seem to mind at all.

"I know you hear me sometimes. You know I'm here." 

Your son pulled away from him again to look at him.

"Daddy-" his words were cut off by upset hiccups from crying so hard "no leave."

"I'm not. I'll stay, I promise." 

His father knelt back down on the floor and attempted to lay the boy back in his bed, but his little hands stayed locked around him.

"I'll be here when you wake up, and all of the rest of the days when you wake up from now on, you can let go, I'll be right here."

Your son finally relinquished his hold on his father who pushed more hair from his son's face.

"And mommy?" Your son's eyes look at you now.

"Mommy has always been here, silly." His father then spoke something in a strange language, it might've been the one from your dream after your son was born.

Your son gave his father a nod not just as if he understood, but he did understand this very strange language. You had never heard your son speak it, and you had no idea that he even knew a whole other language, until he spoke it back to his father.

He sat there knelt beside his son's bed until he drifted off to sleep. You watched as he gave him a kiss on his forehead before standing and turning to face you.

You walked into the hall and closed your son's bedroom door when he looked at you with a look of concern.

"There's still more I have to tell you, it's the most important thing."

"You're going to have to trust me, okay?" He asked from his seat on the sofa beside you. "There are things I know and things I don't, you have the power to change destiny, and right now what I'm seeing is someone is going to try to take you away from us, from your family."

"Okay," you tried to patiently follow, ready for him to say anything.

"Namjoon is going to kill you."

"Why's he going to kill me?" 

"I had this deal with his whore grandmother… she wasn't happy with it, it wasn't my fault. It's not my fault mortals are idiots."

"Hey." You firmly snapped at him.

"It's just what I do, I teach lessons. Anyway, I believe Namjoon is going to hurt you and maybe even our son. He can't physically harm me, I'm immortal, but he can hurt the things I care about. Unfortunately, I can't kill him either, I can't kill humans, God's rules. So I can't stop him, there's nothing I can do but pass this to you. It doesn't matter what you do, Namjoon will hunt you down."

"Okay." You simply just sat there looking calm on the outside but terrified on the inside.

"So, y/n… I think it's kill or be killed in this case. If you die, I'm not sure how much I can do to protect our son but take him with me…" 

To hell was what he meant.

You let out a sigh as you stared at the floor and scraped together some kind of plan.

"Take my soul." You offered.

"Why?"

"In case something happens to me, take my soul." You were sure of your decision.

"I'm not taking your soul." He declined.

"Why?" It was your turn now to ask.

"Do you want to go to hell? Do you realize how many eternities you would be tortured down there before I ever found you?" 

"No." You answered both questions and seemed less sure of your offer now.

"I'm not taking your soul. Our son could come and go with me because he has that power, but you, a pure mortal… you would be in more pain than you could ever imagine." 

"But if I killed a man… wouldn't I go anyway?" You pointed out.

"Not if it was out of self defense for you and your family."

"What the fuck am I saying?! I can't kill father Namjoon!" You realized.

"Y/n, I know he's going to kill you, and I don't want to lose you, I'd do anything not to lose you. What about our son? What about our second child?"

Your mouth dropped open.

"Second child? It-we…?"

"It's not just you living in that mortal body anymore. I know, just like I did the moment I gave you our son. You have to live, you have to do this, you have to trust me."  He reached for your hand and threaded his fingers through yours. "I love you and I need you here with us."

"How do I do it?" You gave in.

You were terrified as the phone rang.

You had just left your son with the babysitter and you sat in your car. You were alone but you felt him near you.

"Hey!" Namjoon's voice came through cheerfully and it made you feel sick.

"Hey, I'm not doing so great tonight. Everything is a bit heavy and I kind of want some fresh air. Would you go for a walk with me at the park? I know it's late but…" 

"Of course. The one closest to where you live, right? I'll meet you there in a few."

You thanked him before hanging up.

"I'm sorry you have to do this." He appeared right beside you in the passenger's seat now, but you didn't look at him, instead you spaced out while looking out the window at the dark park. You were nervous, you were trying to ready yourself, you were trying to wrap your head around this situation.

"What happens after? What do I do right after?" You asked.

"I'll take care of everything. No one will know." The grim thought of what that entailed was shadowed by reassurance of only having one task to do. "You just wait in the car, I'll drive us home. I'll take care of you." 

"What if he sees this opportunity to kill me like I do with him?" You asked with your hands shaking in your lap.

"I think he would wait for a moment when our son is with you, pick you off at the same time." 

Your mouth was dry, but you still tried to swallow down the weight of his words.

"But what if I die? You said you don't know all things." You continued to think your worries out loud.

"I also said people can change destiny, they do it all the time." 

"You haven't been able to." Your point made him go silent a moment. It was true, he had been fighting against his destiny with you since before you were born only to end up with you.

"Part of me didn't want to change it, even if I hated it at first. I've always wanted you. The first time I saw you I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. The first time you saw me, I just wanted you to look at me that way forever, I didn't care about anything anymore and that was scary. You're my Lilith, my eternal soulmate, there was never any fighting you. There's nothing more powerful than what we have, not me, not god himself."

"What if you're tricking me?" You asked abruptly.

"You really think I would?" His voice sounded hurt and you could feel him looking at you as you said nothing "of course you do, of course you'd think that after what I've done and because of who I am." His voice was soft now like he had accepted that option "I wish I could take back what I did to you, everything I've done to you. I wish I never would've made that deal with your mother, I wish you would've had a family with a normal man, a normal life… what have I done?"

"Like you said" you sighed "it was supposed to happen anyway, it's not all on you. I've suffered for you, and now I'm going to kill for you. Would I be doing that- any of this if I really thought you were tricking me?" You admitted. "Maybe I'm just blinded by you, so in love with you and wanting a family with you that I can't see anything else, you're the devil, it's probably what you do, but what other option do I have anyway?" 

"We could go home." He offered softly. "We could have our family and play pretend until it's ripped away." You could hear him swallow louder than his soft words."Then I'll have nothing, but at least I would've had everything for just a fraction of a moment in my eternal life."

"I'm not going to live forever anyway you know, our son might, but I'm human. I die, and when I do I'm destined to be tortured in hell for eternity." 

"You're not going to hell." 

"How do you know?" You asked partially out of curiosity "I'm in love with Satan, I bare his mark, I bared his child. How much more sinful can I be? You can't sit there and tell me Satan's soulmate is going to heaven."

"God has never let me have anything. If he decides it's your destiny and your time to go, if you're taken from me and I can't have you in life, he's not going to let me have you in death." He explained.

You sat there thinking about what he said and came to the very real conclusion that you were most likely going to die tonight. God wouldn't let him have you, he had already seen that Namjoon would kill you, you were going to die. 

Your eyes began to fill with tears as everything finally began to sink in.

"Please take care of our son." 

"Don't." He snapped at you "Don't you say that shit like I'm going to lose you."

You began to sob, you weren't listening to him.

"You're going to go out there and fuck him up and that's going to be the end of it." His voice was stern, but you were falling apart. You let your head fall onto the steering wheel.

"Why wont you just take my fucking soul?!" You cried in despair and frustration "you have every single fucking thing in my life but that, just take it god damn it! Take it and let me burn until you find me. I will obviously go through anything for you and our son at this point. Just fucking take it." 

"You don't deserve it. I don't deserve you, okay? I've fucking destroyed your life, I'm not dragging this into the timeless afterlife, no matter how badly it hurts. We have one single shot, and this is it. I'm fucking horrible, I'm the worst of the absolute worst, but there’s no way I'm going to be that selfish to let you rot in hell because of me." 

"Please?" Your voice was a desperate squeak as you finally turned to him. "Fuck." You uttered at what you saw.

There was a dark liquid running from his pitch black eyes and down his cheeks.

"Is-is that fucking blood? Are you crying blood?" 

You watched as it pooled at his chin and dropped onto his white shirt.

"Please do everything you can tonight." He ignored your question and begged you.

If you had a doubt that he loved you before, you didn't now. You watched as he closed his eyes.

"God," he began, he didn't seem as though he was talking to you at all "just let me have this, please? I'll do anything. Just let me have my family."

The dark car was suddenly illuminated by headlights coming from behind. You turned to see a car pulling into the parking lot.

"I'll be with you." He spoke as Namjoon parked beside your car.

The passenger's seat was empty when you looked back.

This was it.

You felt for the pocket knife you had put in your pocket upon leaving the house and your adrenaline began to rush through your body.

You willed your weak legs to get out of the car.

You forced a half-hearted smile but did your best not to look him in the eyes.

It was quiet at first as you both started down the dark trail.

"Don't get offended, but you look terrible." 

You hadn't slept since you had gotten your mission yesterday night, your mind felt fried and stressed and tired.

"It's been hard." You were honest about how you felt.

"Why is your lip bruised? Did you get hit?" He pried as you thought back to how hard you had bit it the other night.

"No, I did it, by accident." Although it was the truth, you wouldn't have believed it either with the way you had said it.

"Are-are you seeing anyone? It's been a few days since we talked and-"

"No." You lied quickly.

"If there's anything I can do to help you or your son… I know things are still rough for you…" 

"We'll be okay." 

He gave you a strange look.

"You're not still worried about… him?" You could hear the suspension in Namjoon's voice and you knew you had to say something to extinguish it for now.

"I am, I just don't know what's left to do, I feel so hopeless." You said as you saw the path begin to lead into a more wooded area ahead.

"Don't you feel him right now?" Namjoon asked.

"He's always just… around, I'm used to it. Maybe it's just me at this point." 

"What's that on your neck?" He reached out to see.

You had to do it now, you felt like your mark had given you away.

You stepped back out of his grasp as you quickly took the knife from your pocket and flipped it open. You didn't know if he had time to see it or not before you lunged at him.

He had put his hands up to stop you but the force you had come at him sent him toppling backward. 

You went to plunge the knife into his neck only to feel his hand around your wrist stopping you.

He yelled for help but there wasn't another soul at the park, you had been here awhile waiting, you would know.

You used your other hand to help overpower him, but he was still stronger even with all of this adrenaline and chemicals coursing through your body, even with the image of your family in your mind.

"Stop!" Namjoon yelled at you, but this was too far gone to stop now, your mind was already made up. You knew that if you stopped now then you would be the one who died.

Your arms were beginning to grow tired and your strength was weakening and because of that he was able to shift the point of the knife towards you.

In one last burst of strength you tried to switch the knife's direction back towards him but your muscles just gave out.

You didn't feel the pain of the plunge into your chest at first, but you felt the crack of your ribs at the sheer force. You were in shock, it didn't feel at all like you had just been stabbed. You let go of Namjoon and rolled over onto the cool grass as you tried to process everything.

You could hear Namjoon panicking, sitting over you, trying to help you,  it was confusing.

Why was he trying to help you? He wanted you dead.

"Please? Where are you?" You choked out. It was hard to breathe, you felt like you were drowning as you looked up at the stars.

"Get away from her." It was the only voice you wanted to hear, it had brought you some kind of peace.

You saw Namjoon look at something with wide eyes before leaving your line of vision. His quick footsteps on the ground you lay on got further and further away. 

You continued to choke and gasp.

Jungkook watched in the distance as the knife was turned on you and the blade disappeared in your chest.

It hadn't hurt until now. It was as if you were his voodoo doll. He had never felt pain before, but once he felt the sting, he knew exactly what it was, although his pain came from the inside. Until now he had been watching coldly, waiting for this to happen, knowing you would die.

You had to die, there was no other way you'd let him have his son, there was no way you'd let your son end this world. You were too compassionate, too human, too emotional. You were all the things Jungkook never thought he was. Perhaps you completed him in many ways he only was now able to realize.

He was able to fool you so well, tell you all the sweet things you needed to hear to lead you to your own demise. But why did it only now hurt him? Had it been so easy to lie to you because maybe somewhere deep down in his unbeating heart he knew that maybe you really were the one? He felt as though that as you laid there dying, that you were forcing your most human parts into him, you were cursing him.

He had never actually thought you were his Lilith, his soulmate, not until now as he watched you bleeding out and physically felt it. He felt the weight of every sweet thing and lie he had ever told you pressing on his chest. Your face, the sweet moments, holding you, the guilt of never telling you his name, everything flashed before him. He wondered for a moment if he was dying too.

"I have given you a gift, the gift to feel.Your heart is broken, child. Go to her, be with her in her last breaths before I bring her home."

It wasn't even a voice that Jungkook heard, but it wasn't in his head either. He knew who was speaking to him. He suddenly felt enraged. He wasn't going to let God take you away from him.

"Get away from her." Jungkook boomed making the silly mortal that was panicking over you run at the sight and power of his voice.

Jungkook knelt down beside you and watched as the blood flowed from the corners of your mouth and tears streamed from your eyes.

"He's not going to take you from me! God damn it! Please don't take her!" Jungkook knew you wouldn't go to hell, god himself had said so. You did nothing wrong, you had been fooled by him just like Eve had been, and Eve still went to heaven when she died. He would never see you again and it hit him harder than anything ever had before.

Jungkook  lifted his hand, the one he hadn't unknowingly slipped through your fingers, and produced a flame which gave way to a scroll of paper.

He pulled you into his lap as you continued to choke. He put your hand to your wound and dipped your fingers into your blood.

"It's okay, it's going to be fine, please just sign it, you have to move, sign it." He let go of your hand but it was limp. There was no more choking, only a faint rattling coming from you now.

"Please please just sign the paper." He begged. "I'm so sorry, I was wrong, I did this and I'm so sorry. It hurts so badly, sign the paper, I need your soul, I need to find you." 

Silence.

There was no hummingbird heartbeat, there was no heartbeat at all as he looked into your empty eyes that still looked back at him. Your body lay in his lap with the mark he had given you, but you were gone. 

“But I love you...” it was the first time in his existence that he had said it and meant it. You had never known he didn't mean it, you had never known everything he did was a lie, maybe it was best that way. Despite not feeling any of it before, he felt it now, all at once. If he could do it all over again just to mean it, just to experience those feelings along with you he would. He would have held you longer, cried more, he wouldn't have ever let you do this, he wouldn't have fed you those dreams and lies and he would have protected you. Namjoon never wanted to hurt you.

All Jungkook wanted to do now was hold you, so he did until you grew cold. It wasn't fair he only got to feel this after you were gone as punishment. He wanted to go back, he wanted to start over, but it was too late. What kind of cruel god would gift him with his now?

His chest continued to sting, as his anger continued to fester. He hated everything, God, Namjoon, himself, this horrible fucking mortal world. 

He was going to burn it all. He never wanted to make another deal with any human ever again.

Whilst he couldn't touch these stupid fucking humans, his son could, he was half human.

This wasn't supposed to happen for another few years. He didn't think his son was old enough just yet, but it would have to do, he was still naive enough to destroy humanity on his father's command. All he had to do was show his son what he was capable of, fill him with rage for his dead mother, and watch the world burn. All Jungkook knew was fire and destruction, now his son could learn as well, both of them with a bitterness in their hearts.

Jungkook let out a loud scream of anger and frustration and all of these new feelings that he didn't want that felt like they were internally ripping him apart. 

The entire park was sent up in flames, including your body.

The end was coming early for this world, it was over. He was going to destroy every last one of God's precious creations for making him feel like this.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook fluff #bts fanfiction #bts halloween #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon smut #bts smut #Jungkook Series #jungkook fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts x reader #bts horror #bts fluff #jungkook au #jungkook angst #namjoon angst #bts #bts thriller

[d3monslust]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 - 𝐀.𝐃.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Only setting up traps for them , Andy didn't see any of this coming

𝐖𝐂 : 3,151

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage & abusive relationships , cheating , manipulation , violence

𝐀/𝐍 : tumblr deleted the original and I thought for couple of minutes I haven’t backed it up to the point I had a panic attack :) also I worked really hard for this , any kind of interaction is appreciated!!

////////////////June 7th 2020\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Every story has a happy ending , where the villain gets defeated and the heroes win , but in eden , no one could recognize the corruption and the decent. Everyone hid their darkest and filthiest desires deep down inside them , in their abyss of their souls . Andy knew that , from first hand . He was still getting to know the place , the idle juveniles laying in the sandy beaches , the laughs of the middle aged men echoing through the thickness of the trees’ leaves . A literal paradise ... with no God .

Dolan had promised his wife to keep her safe, and eventually after his decadence , he was more fazed than anything . Their inseparable form could be made out from kilometers ago, their vivid and full of life auras leaving hints of sunshine from time to time . Winning the couple of the year and being stunned was not in their plans but the did not dodge it . Until Dolan started venturing at inexcusable bars , reciprocal pink lipstick decorating one side of his neck while he reclined next to his bond , mumbling about his ambiguous accomplishments. He had her to the point , Mariah felt overwhelmed. The weight of his nifty assets , the gravitas of his clumsy , yet anticipated acts made her scream and wince .

But Mariah David Dolan , did not intend on giving up so easily , only because her husband was demonstrating his incompetent self . Haphazardly, or not , the female found herself at Sherlock’s , who fasty evaluated and corrupted all of her nasty problems . Taken the right measurements, Mariah decided to treat themselves to a dinner , the brunette averting his gaze back from his laptop to his wife. “Did something happen ?” Mariah never cooked , even at special , “crowded” occasions , she wouldn’t lay a finger at the metallic kitchenware . “No . I just though about all the work you’re recently hooked with. A nice dinner with your wife would help you blow off some steam” smirking at the fit of the last words, she left Dolan alone, drowning in his intellectually safe thoughts.

The capriciousness of the vexing atmosphere made the couple exchange some absurd looks. With Andy being the always tired one, sexual intercourse was lost long ago . “Something you would like to say ?” “No .” She went for a debate , any sort of the key for relationships , communication. If that clink unraveled , there would be no sweet salvation for the married couple . “Well , I want to say something.” Andy whispered a silent “go on” as one of their housekeepers wiped off him some of the pasta’s sauce . “I’m pregnant .” the brunette almost choked at the hear , she couldn’t be . “What ?” voice so small , the trait of vulnerability showing .

The fraction made his stomach toss and turn with anticipation, his dreams for the unknown slowly falling apart . “I’m pregnant on the 3rd month .” eyes infested with fury , the blue like sea color dissipated. “And when were you planning on telling me , hm ? When the waters would broke ? Or when the bump would start to show ? Or when you couldn’t fucking miscarriage?” his excessive, painful words ventured to withhold her insurmountable fury . Unceremoniously, his unbeatable character almost took back his sharp words , the marvel Mariah always waited for could intervene their scold and corrupt his grudge . Albeit she had cried and prayed for that baby to come , her husband didn’t yearn it .

“Did you talk to the gynecologist? Can you ?” he stated chastely , reclining his tensed back to the chair . Who could envision Andy Dolan with a child ? The reluctance became vexing , the tension had to be dwindled if she wanted to keep that inexcusable -for him- child . “Yes . We ... discussed and he said that I cannot ... get rid of it .” her unconvincingly words passed from the one ear to the other . He abruptly threw his crystal glass at the respective wall , agitating the woman to run to clean the mess . The hot , ambiguous tears wetting her cheeks . “Cant you just love me ?” she mumbled , her fasty movements elicited a cut from the sharp glass . She hissed at the pain , she wanted to resemble the perfect , sincere , housewife Andy pleased . To conquer the theme , so as to stand next to him with all her lucid pride while clutching his right hand .

And the things became even worse , chaos consuming the island , darkness drowning the residents . But the worst was Andy’s behavior shift . The unintelligible man faltered and his intriguing about his serene family faded , woefully leaving only his malice and possession . Fighting with his own demons , his rigid and virile facade came and ended up resented . The 24-hour absence of the paternal figure made the child cope with egregious insults and quarrels . Curling up in her little bed , her hands covering the ears as not to listen his beloved parents . Was her the reason they fought every night ? And as the family withered , Andy prepared to hit with sweet and sour vengeance .

“Please ...” the woman begged , the tears blocking her already blurry vision . Fatigue in her system degenerating, she tried to refrain this , but Dolan’s wrath could not be avoided . “Please what , hm ? You had a fucking debt ! Look after that damned child . And I swear to god Mariah ^ if something had happened to my daughter!” he scolded . “Oh come on ! Stop acting like you care ! You never did ... you never cared about your family .” His intimidating methods would usually work , and if not he would try for the vicious skin-to-skin contact . Slapping her and looking her terribly weak silhouette, squirming and crying under him . She remained frigid , not wanting to get that answer , Mariah ran to the basement , advancing around the marble halls like a lost puppy . Andy rubbed his stressed temple , waiting for his own kind of wonder to come and take him from this type of hell . The paradise where demons are hidden .

Andy never wanted to become one of them. That vicious, hungry, creatures . Demons . The olds said that if somebody approached the North river he would see a little red creature . A graceful , gorgeous demon . That was bullshit , demons didn't exist , his friend Michael had told him , that poor man - he had taken the subject of claiming to be the Antichrist of the end times too thick . He ended up at an asylum - good man , sick brain . “What are you thinking ?” . God , or whoever , heard him sent him his guardian angel . The nifty woman was everything he wished for . A real living angel . And that chaste, naive flirt shifted into this; whatever that was.

“Nothing to be honest . But let’s not talk about me , hmmm ?” the girl nodded heartily . Y/N had found her person , the one she could trust and never receive betrayal , the one she could cry at and talk about her insurmountable problems . Their meeting was casual - one , two drinks exchanged , some additional winks and the saccharine act of sex to help Y/N realize her feelings. When she was with him , the blithe and sybarite feeling would bloom inside her , becoming as beautiful as a sanguine rose . She chuckled at his works , could describe him as selfless ? No . But to her ... yes . Her despondent self hid his abusive and possessive persona . For her eyes and only , Andy Dolan was a god , innocent and perfect . “I wanted to ask about ... the divorce ? When are you two signing it ?” he had to be astute and answer handily . But they answer was always the same “Oh sweetheart, don’t worry . Mariah is a bit pertinacious but I’ll persuade her , okay ?” and she would fall at the trap , again .

“You’re always answering the same !” maybe today she would revolt and fortunately leave the poisonous love of Andy’s . His eyes shone dangerously, he didn’t want to do this . “Y/N’s not like Mariah” he would remind himself , but the poor girl was sticking her nose almost everywhere . “Aren’t you pleased , hm ? I took you from that fucking clinic , I helped you withdraw and this is your thank you ? I’m disappointed in you , Y/N .” his esoteric character on sight again . His cogent and invidious words caused the sentient girl spill the salty water . The male disdaining to help or comfort . “You deserve this anyway .” she stumbled back , her apprehension increasing whilst seeing him standing up from the bed . That absurdity had to stop , but he had saved her and it was her time now .

As Andy returned home , and the futile try to persuade his wife about the divorce exhausted him , he found himself at his daughter’s room . Observing her sincere and innocent moves . “Daddy ?” “Yes , Baby ?” his far-fetched sweet talk made the two smile in sync . The blonde’s smile making daddy crack . “Can I tell you something?” Andy nodded , hoping the child wouldn’t have read any of his recreational messages . “Mommy told me the reason she doesn’t want you two to break up !” his eyes lit up at her appendix . Perhaps it was the money or the child but anyway - Andy had to know . “What’s that ?” patting his lap for the girl to sit , Hera made herself comfortable at the warmth of his legs . “She said that she won’t let you fool around with every individual who has two holess.” “She said what ?!?!” “Yes , yes but what did she mean when she said “every individual with two holes .” ?” “Not now , Hera .” he quickly placed the kid down , as she sulked at her daddy’s extraordinary behavior.

By the time Andy stated the predicament , Mariah had ruminated on her terms . She should have said this , fuck she really shouldn’t . Her dull and attention-seeking words pushed her husband’s last buttons . “Are you fucking braindead ? What was that you said to my daughter ?!” she knew where that debate would end up . Condescendingly , she wrapped her arms around his neck . Her touch-starved grating amusing his carnal urges . Not wanting to dwell on the situation , Andy let it happen . Her amorous posture , the well-med hair , how didn’t he feel it coming ? Her hands traveling at his shirt’s buttons while Andy’s fingers went for her top . Discarded clothing were soon decorating the floor of their kitchen . His greed for more would eat him up one day . And he waited - patiently and calmly for that day . Her tenuous dominance caused waking up his boredom. But his prurient mind , thought otherwise.

She licked his upper lip , Andy letting her tongue slip into his mouth . The sloppy kiss turning into something more passionate, more loving . “I’ve missed this .” she mumbled in between breaths , making a smirk plaster on Dolan’s face . “I’ve missed you .” he hushed her by kissing her , the loving , lingering kiss making butterflies fly in her stomach . “Andy ?” he groaned at the call , not wanting to eye roll , he approved the question and motivated to go on . “Do you love me ?” “Yes. Only you . And no one else . I know things are hard right now but I’ll make it up to you.”

Bare bodies tangled . Two bodies in one . His hips snapped viciously at hers , hand grabbing a harmful fist of hair . Abruptly pulling it back , making Mariah hiss at the sudden contact of pain . The persona she would only see , not even Y/N , the sadistic one . Her head touching his sweaty torso , the tears in her eyes strengthening his stamina . The coil in her stomach tightened and as the loved noticed it - his hands traveled between her puffy lips , toying with her little bud . “I’m .... im-” her muffled cries interrupting her . “I know baby . Cum , cum with me .” and the coil in her belly broke synchronized with his . The addicting feeling of euphoria engulfing them both . “You did so well .” his sugary words causing her pride to rise , awaking her love for him . Just like the old times . “I love you , Mariah .” she perched at his tight embrace , inhaling his intoxicating scent . “Mhm me too .” she had to savor the moment . Mariah didn’t know what could possibly find her tomorrow .

////////////////

And as Andy distanced himself from Y/N, he kept his promise and made up the tangle. At least everything that could be fixed . The insuperable bond they created was ineffable. The somnolent love , almost dead , rose back from the dead . His pernicious and arcane self opened at his therapist . The Dolans couldn’t be happier . Apathy no longer lived between them . No invidious implication wafting around the tensed atmosphere. Just some more scarce , anticipated details and Dolan would finally fall into blithely.

Andy planted the usual good morning kiss on his wife . Excusing himself for his aimless absence on lunch and venturing to the car . The fraction of 2 to months without seeing Y/N, made him tacit. Where was the power Dolan’s hold ? He couldn’t falter, not now. He would withhold and keep things conservative. His conscience screamed no , but he shut it off , not wanting to trust his instincts . Choosing the obliviousness.

Approaching her modern like house , the cars of topical police confused his comprehension. Incompetent to walk inside , albeit he promised not to care - a part which was got circumvented - some of his worry remained to Y/N . “Officer , is she okay ?” the concern in his eyes made the blue - dressed man doubt his accusation . “Sir , are you Mr.Dolan ?” the man let his white scribbling block down , paying full attention to the brunette . “In the flesh .” two more patrols approaching, no feeling of timidity in their eyes . His envision had to be mendacious . A prosaic one , more realistic. “Andy Dolan you are arrested for the murder of Y/N Y/L/N” his conception blurred, everything changing into automatic. His eyes caught the figure of his wife talking to another police man - she wouldn’t? Would she ?

Everything happened so quickly, the metal handcuffs were clutched onto his hand, the ignominious state making him sentient. He would go to prison and there was no denial in that . At least he would leave Eden .

/////////////// Now \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He had learnt the news . Mariah was in all this . She had been informed about Andy’s illegal affair , not only with women but with drugs , too . On the one side, she had managed to plan her husband’s perfect suicide but the contradiction she received made her tentative. Therefore she visited the professionals . Sherlock’s beneficial - for both Mariah and him- and handily trap got Dolan arrested . They had planned everything, even the littlest detail . The plan was easy , yet complicated.

He would wake up at 7:15 a.m. as always . Head to the kitchen to make his morning coffee , catch up with Mariah who would accidentally leave the house . His phone would remind him about his last meeting with Y/N , where she would end up thing with him . Or what Mariah had decided to do for her . Y/N had left the island months ago when Mrs.Dolan appeared in her house and threatened to kill her and her soon-to-be-born child. As Andy would drive his way , Sherlock would leave his fingerprint everywhere , placing them carefully at the edges of the gun . Next step would be Y/N’s doppelgänger, nice and murdered next to the white rug .

-

The unbearable route of the dull prison . The thousand of men behind the metal bars , hungry for every kind of fight and sexual intercourse nettled his every atom . Compelling himself not to communicate with anyone , Andy , who had received a life imprisonment lost and the last bit of faith . There was no salvation for him , it never existed . “You have a letter .” the word taking him out of his dwelling thoughts. His family never sent him letters , not that they were coming . Drugs were forbidden, or that was the law applied . “Sender ?” “Unknown .” Andy wasn’t in the mood for playing games . This almost one years in prison erased all of his lenient future. Additionally, alleviating his last mendacious fantasies about life .

Taking the rigid piece of paper , the handwriting of a woman caught his attention . Refraining himself from toring it apart and throwing it to the trash can , he want for abstinence. Cutting the edges with a small knife which used to hide right down his pillow , the form a photo fall on the floor . Inhaling a piece of pure reluctance , Andy took the shiny piece of paper between his hands . The silhouettes of two girls laughing at each other quirked his eye brow . But her ineffable and disheveled beauty stopped his breath . A baby adjoining her side , made him caught the implication . The transparent eligibility to join this family causing him to incandescent. That was his child and his Y/N .

Last thing , eyes traveling at the bottom of the photo

- SHOT WITH NIKON 456 | 6/4/2021 | 7:56 p.m.

And they were alive .

////////////////////////////////////////

Tag list ; @ferndolan @brooklinn13 @lavenderahs @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860

If anyone wants to be removed or added just say it lol

#ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #duncan shepherd #cody fern #andy dolan #joey talks #ahs fanfiction #andy dolan x reader #lettering #tw mention of violence #tw mental hospital #cheating #australia #reblog #like seriously #likeit #netflix #i hope you like this #i hope you have a wonderful day #moodboard #smut #angst

[lumini-317]

Hello!

This will be my official “introductory” post!

My real name is Erica, but I go by many names. My nickname repertoire includes but is not limited to: Lumi, Lumini, Cricket (I have a habit of rubbing my feet together, lmao), Jinx, Eri, Er, EriJoy, Sunbaeby, and Aceir (my real name but in alphabetical order).

This is my first ever Tumblr blog. I’ve had it for a while but have rarely posted anything, that along with the fact that I’m on mobile is kind of a mess so I apologize for mistakes and all that.

I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother.

I’m an ambivert. Sometimes I love hanging out with bigger groups of people, other times I dread it.

I’ve taken the “16personalities” test 4 times and all 4 put me in the “Diplomat” category, however I got “Advocate” (INFJ) 2 times, and “Protagonist” (ENFJ) and “Mediator” (INFP) 1 time each.

I am LGBTQ+. I’m asexual, aro+panromantic flux, and while I feel like I’m genderfluid, the changes are very subtle and so I sometimes just go with agender, gendervoid, or neutrois. It’s a lot less complicated that way. I’m ambiamorous, and also pronoun apathetic!

I love whump. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember but only found the whump community maybe 3(?) years ago.

I also love K-Pop, C-Pop, J-Pop, and Asian dramas, mainly K-Pop and K-Dramas, though.

I’m a HUGE multistan. ATEEZ, SKZ, TBZ, EXO, BTS, Red Velvet, SHINee, iKON, MONSTA X, TWICE, TO1, WANNA ONE, SuperM, X1, MIRAE, Ciipher, Golden Child, Purple Kiss, BAE173, SF9, IU, ONEUS, ONEWE, The Rose, PIXY, LUCY, STAYC, WEi (which I pronounced as “way” for an embarrassingly long time), Dreamcatcher, Brave Girls, TXT, ENHYPEN, SNSD, KARD, AKMU, SHAUN, Gaho, NCT, GHOST9, 1team, SE7EN, Cross Gene, D1ce, AB6IX, CRAVITY, BLACKPINK, CIX, VIXX, f(x), 4Minute, CLC, YEZI, B.I, Wonho, (G)I-DLE, EVERGLOW, SEVENTEEN, BROOKLYN, Ha Hyunsang, DAY6, GOT7, Teen Top, BAP, TREASURE, UNIQ, etc! It goes on, far longer than I can list. I am also very much against fanwars, they disgust me.

I’m also a HUGE animal lover, and a big softie. I can’t even squish insects. I don’t care that they can’t feel pain and don’t experience emotions, I just can’t bring myself to. I make it my mission to save any type of animal I come across. I find toads in our koi pond and immediately pick them out and take them to a safe place. I help turtles across the road. I got a mouse out of a puddle and revived it, releasing it when it was healthy enough. I saw a snail on a piece of wood that was going to be thrown on a fire and carefully pulled it off and put it somewhere else. So far I’ve found 5 stray cats (Piper, Toothless, Felix, Kai, and Kit Kat—all were found as skinny, sickly kittens) and took them in, raising them as my own. I rescued a chipmunk from certain death-by-cat. I’ve even saved a few baby raccoons, ducklings, lizards, spiders, and snakes in my time. And I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live.

I love writing, drawing/sketching, and painting, however I’m not confident that I’m good at any of those things, lmao. I mean, I don’t think I’m the worst, but my finished “works” often leave me unsatisfied with my “skills”. But of course, that won’t stop me from trying to improve!

I’m a maladaptive daydreamer. This can cause issues in some places while helping me out in others. On one hand, it makes doing chores and such kind of difficult. Like one time I had to take care of my dad’s pigeons while he was fixing our shed and one time he pointed out how slow I was with the chores. His words were something along the lines of, “I’m already almost done with what I have to do and you’re still working with the pigeons.” Also, it (and maybe ADHD if I do have it?) made school a nightmare for me. But it’s also helpful because then during church it’s really easy to keep myself occupied while the pastors go on about their Magical Sky Daddy™’s son throwing a tantrum and killing a figtree because it didn’t have any figs and how that story should “challenge” us or something.

The characters in my daydreams are weird, though. They merge and separate with each other to make different characters depending on the situation. Most of them don’t have definite genders. Only a handful of them have names because they’re always merging and separating like some kind of Shadow Clone Masters or something. Stuff like that.

One of my characters is for sure a demi-boy, though, and his name is Kyler.

I brought this up because I was watching The Andy Griffith Show and Andy was giving Opie a lecture on how many poor kids there are in the world and used the ratio “one and a half boys per square mile”. Opie then says that he’s “never seen a half a boy before”. Kyler just sort of pops into (fake) existence, jumps off the couch, and throws his arms in the air while saying, “Half a boy, right here!” I burst out laughing. Thankfully it didn’t seem weird, since my parents started laughing at Opie and thought that I was just laughing at it, too.

Any-who.

If I daydream while I’m standing, I’ll often pace and gesture with my arms while moving my lips. Sometimes I’ll even whisper. If I’m sitting down, I usually fidget a lot (such as pick at my shirt and rub my feet together), stare into space, and move my lips or whisper. My family sometimes ask me, “Why are you whispering?” Or, “What are you grinning about?” And I just shrug because I don’t know how to explain it to them without risking them calling someone to pray over me, lmao. I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to have imaginary friends because that was “evil”. When I was about 7, I told my parents about my imaginary unicorn friend and they gave me a lecture and “prayed over me”. It was embarrassing and awkward for me.

I’m suspicious that I might have ADHD, but don’t have the money to actually get a professional diagnosis. I’m also too scared to ask my parents about it.

Speaking of which, my family and I don’t see eye-to-eye. I mean, they don’t know it because I’m good at hiding it, and they think I agree with mostly everything they do but boy, is it a mess.

You see, they’re evangelical conservative Christians. “LGBTQ+ people are going to hell”, “ThE LeFt ARe eViL AnD ARe TrYiNg To BrAiNwAsh OuR ChiLdrEn”, “Trump was sent by God”, “Intersex is fake”, “Women must submit to men”, “You should get married no later than in a year or ‘the temptation’ to have sex might become too much”, the whole bit.

Meanwhile I’m over here with my (imaginary) pride flags, just existing as an agnostic leftist who wants everyone to have equal rights, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, and would rather redo my horrifically atrocious kindergarten closing program role than pray to a god who (if they/he/she/it/whatever exists) gives cancer to kids and killed millions of innocent animals and people in the Bible.

But they have no idea that this is how I feel and now expect me to be baptized within the next month to show that I have “accepted Jesus Christ as my savior”. Yeah...that’s gonna be an awkward discussion...

Anyway, that’s just some things about me. Sorry that I got sidetracked a few times, lmao!

I look forward to posting more and maybe even making friends!

Thank you for reading (:

#introduction #kpop #lgbtq #religion #learn about me #whump #i dont listen to my family #one sunday my mom saw me watching treasure map and she said that #since it was sunday i needed to watch something spiritually uplifting #i said i would and went to my room #there i continued watching treasure map #why? #because treasure map *is* spiritually uplifting for me #thank you very much #my parents keep bringing up going through me an my little brother’s phones #which is worrying #if they saw half of the stuff i get up to... #oh boi #asian dramas #kdramas #cdramas #jdramas #thaidramas #one time i told my friend what i do subconsciously when i daydream #the whole moving my lips thing #and she casually said that i was just practicing my exorcisms #and i think about that a lot #cpop #jpop

[mrpenguinpants-alter-ego]

Kaeya: Comfort HCs

Hi, new side blog until tumblr get’s fixed. Yes I know this is a double re-post but I don’t think this one made it into tags. Hopefully and I pray with all my heart, this works. Please see my pinned post for further details 

WOW IF THE TIMING OF THIS ASK ISN’T SPOT ON BECAUSE GOD DO I NEED COMFORT. Childe won’t come home and I’ve never been this hollow before ;-; I suck at writing Kaeya but Cryo boy please.

I try to keep these gender-neutral and only use “you” as the “pronoun” but if I happen to slip up, please let me know 💕

Kaeya: Comfort HCs

The Ludi Harpastum was a festival that Mondstadt celebrated every year. A full 15 days of games for children to enjoy with carnivals of songs and other excitements. Restaurants would display their finest dishes while taverns, like the Dawn Winery and The Cat’s Tail, would roll out plenty of cider and wine for the adults. Bards from all over Teyvat would come to sing their wonderful poems, indulge in liveliness that was Mondstadt during these 15 days. So why did you seem so down lately? It was a question the Calvary Captain pondered as he saw you shuffle away from the festivities.

Were you overworked perhaps? Jean had been running around trying to prepare for the festival but even she had a smile on, excited for the Ludi Harpastum and what was to come. Though, in your defense, Jean was just that kind of person. He had noticed that you looked more and more out of it as the days passed. As if you were going through the motions from trying to appease the children to helping out wherever you could. He quickly racked his brain for any signs that something was wrong leading up to the festival, but he couldn’t recall anything specific. He sent a small mental apology to Jean and the other knights but his attention was on something more important now.

At first, he’ll take his approach discretely. If it’s just nerves from getting the festival sorted out then it’s not something he needs to sit you down and talk you through. That might just add more to your stress if you knew how worried he got. He’ll slip a couple check ins with you to see how you’re faring outside of the public eye, or making sure that your work load is manageable, anything to maybe ease whatever it was that was getting you down. If it is just nerves he’ll gently but jokingly let you know that if you have any troubles you can always come to him. If you remark that everything that you needed to do for the festival was already taken care of he’ll laugh it off. Jean sure is working hard huh?

If it really does seem that you’re slipping apart and leaving you to your own devices is not helping you, his worry for you overtakes his professional role of boundaries and he’ll confront you. Not as the Calvary Captain making sure the festival goes smoothly but as Kaeya whose is concerned for your safety and health. If you don’t want to get into specific’s that’s all right with him, just so long as you aren’t alone with your thoughts. He’ll initiate by gently lacing your fingers together and but then it’s up to you on how you want things to go.

During the day, the Captain side of him will appear laid back and fondly tease you. Anything to see you smile or even lightly embarrass you. But at night when it’s just the two of you together, you’ll both settle into the quiet atmosphere but he’ll hold you just a little tighter. Spend just a second longer in your embrace. All silent cues that you mean a lot to him.

If Jean or Amber asks where he’s been lately he’ll gladly tell a bald-faced lie. Making remarks that a couple of pyro slimes seemed to get into the wine barrels and made it their home. Amber is suspicious of him but he’s the Calvary Captain so she’ll let it go but she’s watching him. Jean is concerned but he’ll wave it off and give a small nod towards your form in the distance. She immediately understands and if you or him need anything to let her know. Really, Jean works way too hard.

He won’t pry, everyone has their own secrets and issues, plus on the very slim chance you find out he was digging into your business, you might never trust him again. You never bothered him with his origins or his methods so it’s only fair he does the same to you. While he likes tricking and putting other’s in danger to justify the means, you’re someone important to him. He’ll only do something like that if it’s to ensure your safety or you’re pushed to the breaking limit. You might hate him for looking through your privacy but at the end of the day, if it makes you happier he’ll do it.

He’ll leave little signs that he’s concerned for you and that he’s here if you need him. If you’ve been sleeping more often, be it from overwork or sadness, you’ll wake up with a white fur cloak wrapped around you. He’ll make up some joke that a cat snagged it off him, and it just happened to climb in through your window, snuggled up to you, and than ran away without the cloak. That’s just how funny nature works. Cats sure are tricky things huh?

If you’re reaching break point he will corner you and ask what’s wrong. You might brush him off or get mad at him in the morning but Kaeya believes that the end justifies the means. He knows that somethings you just want to deal with alone, his entire backstory and family issues are like that, but it pains him deep inside to see you so upset. He doesn’t want to feel that same helplessness again, especially to someone he cares deeply about, so he’ll do anything in his power to ease your heart.

While he prefers to do things independently if it’s something he can’t help with, he’ll take Jean up on her offer. Just to check up on you and see if her calming presence is enough to make you feel calm just for a moment. When he does see you slowly start to get better it makes him happy. He might get a bit more affectionate but really he’s just relieved that you’re alright now.

#PLEASE TAGS WORK FOR ME #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin kaeya #kaeya #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya headcanons #kaeya imagines #genshin impact kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya x reader #IS IT BECAUSE IM TAGGING PEOPLE YOURE LIKE THIS?

[drivingsideways]

For @the-ever-present-julie, based off this tumblr post.

Five times Dean and Cas kissed and never talked about it, and the one time they did and still won’t talk about it. 

Five.

It's not like Dean hasn't thought about it before.

That first month after he crawled his way out of his grave? He'd never told Sam or Bobby, but that entire month, hell, more like three,  he'd been convinced that it was all just one of Alastair's tricks. That Alastair had moved on from the crude, visceral pleasure of blood and guts and shredded flesh to this—letting him dream, and then, right when he'd let himself believe it, that the impossible had happened, Alastair would take it away.

The sick fuck.

But two could play that game, alright?

Dean- Dean was good at this. Dean knew Alastair, like calling to like in the putrid depths of hell. Dean would find a way to trip him up, it was like that time with the djinn. Find the thing that didn't fit, the thing that was impossible to explain, and then tug at that thread until it all unraveled.

Well, he didn't have to look too far.

Castiel, angel of the Lord, who made his ears bleed, and his stomach swoop—well— come the fuck on, there was no possible way his mind could have generated this. This was Alastair, through and through, Alastair who had put him on the rack and taken more pieces out of him than he'd known existed, who'd worked him over and over and over, and somewhere along the way learnt enough about Dean that he'd—

The handprint buzzed and ached and tingled and Castiel's blue, blue eyes had looked right through him, and said things like you don't think you deserve to be saved, and if  I tell you something, will you keep it a secret, I'm not a hammer, and no, this would not be the thing he let himself believe, this would not be one more way that Alastair broke him. In the backseat of his car, Anna had fitted her palm onto the scar, her delicate, smooth palm too small for it, the whorls of her fingers caressing the edges, and it had been electric, and all wrong, because it wasn't her mark that Dean carried on his friggin' re-hymenated body (it wasn't her who had gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, and Dean's body knew it in a way that Dean wasn't going to think about, let alone—)

That sonuvabitch Alastair would not break him with a fairy tale that innocent people told their children, angels watch over you, but his mother had not been innocent in all of this, had she, she had sold Sammy to the Devil, and Castiel had laid a hand on his shoulder (but had not touched his mark, why hadn't—) and had looked at Dean with something like sorrow, and didn't seem to mind when Dean called him Cas, brought him down to his level, and fuck, here he was again, out of options, out of luck, out of fuel, and his brother was someone he didn't recognize.

The sickest thing was how that was the part  that had felt real, felt painful in a way that Alastair could have never devised. Dean's soul was putting himself in the hands of a demon bitch, and there was fuck all that Dean could do about it. This was how he broke then, in the words of a prayer, the first he'd ever said, and he hadn't  known whom he was praying to, but it had been Cas who showed up, eyes bluer than any summer sky Dean had ever seen, face striated by the colours of a vending machine, and said, faith is a good sign, Dean. What was it a sign of, Dean would have liked to know, and it wasn't faith, not by a long shot, but what could a creature like Castiel have known of desperation?  Castiel who stood close, too close, but had touched him only twice, who'd said, it's not blame that rests on you, it's fate, and yeah, that was fucking Winchester Gospel for you, cursed from the start, the two of them, before they were in the womb, born under a bad sign.

But Cas had helped, and Dean had begun to think—but of course, Cas left, and there was only poor, stupid Jimmy Novak, and then Cas was back, but not really, Cas was a stranger, and Dean didn't know when he'd stopped thinking of Cas as a stranger, and just, strange—

 Dean had laid one across Castiel's marble-face that didn't shatter, tried, because what else could he have done? This is real, this is the only thing that's worth it and even before the disappointment of having Cas leave could sink in, the handprint had buzzed and ached and tingled  as Cas pressed him against a wall and pressed a palm against his lips and then bled on the floor, for Dean, (whom he didn't serve) and Cas had said, I'll hold them all off, go save him, but of course it had been too late, because that was the story of Dean's life, too late, too late.

Cas comes back, and oh look, Cas has learnt what desperation means, after all. There's something wild in his eyes, that he tries to hide but doesn't succeed when he says, we need God, it's not theological, it's strategic, and if Dean had a moment to take a breath, he would have wanted to sit Cas down, and say, listen man, I understand it, but this is a road to nowhere, you're only going to waste your time, you gotta stop loving what can't love you back, and yeah, that'd have been hypocritical of him, but so what, that was pretty low down on Dean's laundry list of sins.

But it's the Apocalypse, and as it happens Dean's got his own shit to deal with, and Cas isn't his responsibility, so what if he just died for Dean or whatever, alright, Dean owes him, but not like that.

And now it's the end of the world, their last night on earth, and Dean's not too late to make Cas smile at him, confused but fond, and Castiel's smile is nothing like Jimmy Novak's. Cas is nothing like Jimmy Novak who'd just been a naive man in an ugly suit, and well. He'd promised Cas a good time, and Dean's not got a lot to give Cas, by way of thanks or comfort or anything, and what had Cas said that time? Everything on earth is pain, but that's only cause he doesn't know, the good parts, the best parts, and before Dean can chicken out of it, he's pressing Cas up against the Impala, and Cas is letting him, goes willing, pliant, staring at him, eyes wide, and Dean sees the moment it happens, the small hitch of breath he takes, that Cas, who doesn't need to breathe makes, and his eyes dart to Dean's lips and flash up again, and Dean's kissing him, and it's—riding a comet—

Cas doesn't know how to kiss.

But that's fine, that's a-ok, because Dean does, and Dean can show him, and Cas is a quick learner, zero to six hundred in twenty seconds or less, and now it's Dean who can't breathe except in loud, panting gasps, Cas's warm, strong hand wrapped with his around their dicks, not enough slick, a little too rough, too painful, perfect, perfect, and Cas is eating his face, teeth sharp and painful on Dean's lips, eyes still wide open and unblinking, the freak, but his gaze is hot and ferocious, and Dean's eyes flutter shut again on a moan, because Dean's burning, has been burning all this time, he realizes, for this, for—

Cas rips his sleeve off, jacket and shirt, both gone,  and then his hand is there, and Dean's coming, wet, thick and nasty all over an angel's hand, he should be going to hell for this, except Cas hadn't let him stay there, and hadn't thrown him back, and this was real, Dean shuddering, face hidden in the crook of Cas' neck, trembling, his knees giving way, but Cas' got him, the hand on his shoulder slipping lower, around his back to hold him up, holding him in place,  and Dean should— he should—

 Four.

He  wakes up alone in a motel room, and there is a tomorrow, and then the  day after, but no Cas, and then there is two thousand fucking fourteen, and Cas is still there in the ruins that Sam and Dean made of the world , jesus fucking christ on a candy stick, Cas is still there.

Cas is broken, because Dean did that to him, and Cas kisses him, once, open mouthed and filthy, and then draws back and says, the day I decide to stay, make sure I don't, please, if you ever cared even a little, promise me, and then Cas goes off to die with even-more-of-an-asshole-future-him, because that's just how he rolls.

 Three.

He shouldn't.

If that mook Zach's little thought experiment had taught him anything, it should have been this- that Cas was off limits.

That he shouldn't keeping finding ways to keep him close.

He shouldn't keep finding ways to kiss Cas, but that's exactly what he does.

The world's ending around them in slow motion and they are fucking.

They're fucking in dank, stinking alleys, blood running down Dean's chin, and Cas licking it up, and feeding it back to him, tongue practically molesting Dean's tonsils, fingers squeezing his neck, rubbing against each other fully clothed, until Dean's coming in his pants. They're fucking on stained  bedsheets of grimy hotel rooms, lights flickering, crackling, every electronic instrument in a five mile radius gone haywire, the smell of ozone and jizz making Dean dizzier, as Cas pounds him through four successive orgasms, each more spectacular and painful than the last, Dean's body a limp rag after. They're fucking squeezed together in the backseat of the Impala, Dean hunched over Cas, occasionally knocking his head on the roof, but he can't stop, won't stop, nothing has felt this good, a thick fat dick inside him, filling up his empty places, and  Cas slack-mouthed, and eyes closed under him, hands wrapped around Dean's biceps so tight that Dean's gotta wear long sleeves through the hottest summer in three centuries, so that Sammy won't ask.

Sam knows, of course he does.

Cas isn't subtle when he turns up, dishevelled, hair sticking out in five different directions, looking pissed off and tired; shrinking, somehow, but still with that crackling power about him, and not looking at anyone or anything except at Dean, like all the roads he's taken looking for God have only led him straight back to Dean. Sam's taken to clearing his throat awkwardly, and hot-footing it out of hearing range the moment Cas appears, and just as well, Dean doesn't have it in him anymore to be quiet, sprawled wide open on the bed, hands twisting in the sheets as  Cas fucks him fuck, fuck, fuck,  jesus fuck,  if he hadn't already gone to hell, surely this would send him there, profaning this holy thing of god, whose tongue was made for songs of praise and worship, and is instead all the way up Dean's ass, dragging an orgasm out of him.

It's alright, he reasons, on the days Cas is gone, and Sam is there, but gone.

Cas and him, they're not so different after all. They're both the disappointing sons of deadbeat dads, and Cas is losing his wings and his faith at approximately the same speed that Dean's losing everything and everyone, and the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and there's no way to fix it, no way to undo it, and he's going to have to kill the love of his life, and if this is his consolation prize, he's going to take it.

(Dean loves taking it.)

Dean will take it and he doesn't want to talk about it, and hey, apparently, neither does Cas, so that's peachy, that's perfect, and Dean shouldn't, but he does, and Cas lets him, and he does, right until Sam gets thrown into the pit, and Dean doesn't.

Cas' grace knits him together, once more, and then he's gone, and so is Dean.

 Two.

Cas comes back.

But he's more of a stranger than he'd ever been, even in that barn, what feels like a lifetime ago, and he won't talk, and sure as fuck won't listen, and his blue gaze when it meets Dean's is cool as lake water, as if Dean doesn't know what Cas sounds like, strung out of his mind with pleasure, from having Dean hold him down with a binding sigil and fuck him raw.

As if they'd never been friends, and perhaps they hadn't, that was just what it was like in the war, and the war was over, and so were they.

Cas is all impatience, and anger, and sullen resentment, brittle in a way that scares Dean if he really thinks about it, because it's Cas, and something's wrong, Dean can feel it deep in his bones, just like he knew with Sammy, but he—

Look, if Cas wants to reach him, he knows how to call.

But then it's too late (again) and there's a war (again, or it was never over, why is it never over), only this time it's Cas that Dean needs to kill, really kill, and fuck if he knows how, but in the end, all he can do is watch as Cas walks into the water, and all that's left of him is a stained, torn trenchcoat.

Dean keeps it.

He can't look at it, can't stand to, that entire year, but he keeps it.

And then Cas comes back (again), but then he's gone (again) and what had Dean expected, really?

And Dean's tired, ok, so tired, so tired and sick and done, and the war is still on—maybe he shouldn't have left Cas, maybe he should have tried harder, maybe he should have called, maybe it wouldn't have all gone to shit, if Dean hadn't screwed it up once again, hadn't failed—

 "Cas"  he says, squinting against the sun on his face, up at where Cas is perched on the roof of the Impala. "Why are you covered in bees?"

The air is filled with a humming that Dean's only 90% certain are the bees.

"They like me, Dean," says Cas, as though that were a reasonable explanation, and fuck knows, maybe it was, in that fucked up noodle of his. "They wanted me to stay with them."

Shit, fuck.

Dean rubs his hands over his eyes.

"You maybe want to come inside and talk?"

Crazy or not, they needed all the help they could—

Cas hops down from the car, and the bees rise up in an angry, buzzing cloud before settling back.

"Lose the bees first", says Dean, and then regrets it, when Cas stands before him naked as a new-born.

"Dude!" yelps Dean, "Come on! Where the fuck are your clothes?"

"I—", says Cas, sounding lost and forlorn as he stares down at himself. "I'm not sure. The bees didn't like them."

And fuck, like this, Dean can see that Cas is just skin and bone, pale skin stretched over prominent ribs, hip bones jutting out—

"Well, mojo them back from wherever you left them", Dean growls, "There's a sandwich in it for you."

Cas looks up, hopeful.

"Peanut butter?"

"Sure", says Dean and hopes to god the vending machine has  something that resembles a sandwich. "But get some.." he waves his hands, not looking at Cas, because it hurts to see him like this.

There's nothing like a sandwich in the machine, so he ends up instructing Cas to wait for him in the room while he makes a quick run to the nearest store. He picks up some orange juice and bananas while he's at it, along with the bread, peanut butter and jam.

"This is very kind of you, Dean" says Cas, as he sits (fully clothed, in his hospital scrubs and trenchcoat), his hands in his lap.

"So, what, you need to eat these days?" Dean queries. "You look like you've just spent six months on a fad diet".

Cas looks away, up at the ceiling.

"The grace is more useful for other things" he says, "There's so much to do. So many creatures in pain. I forget to."

"Listen", starts Dean, because he can guess where this is coming from, hell, it isn't like—

"Is my sandwich ready?"

Dean slides it across the table, and watches as Cas wolfs it down.

There's a bit of jam that gets stuck to the corner of his mouth, and Dean gestures at it, and then, when Cas looks confused, reaches out to—

Cas flinches.

Dean freezes, hand stuck awkwardly in mid-air, throat closing up.

He leans back, withdrawing his hand.

"You've got some jam smeared at the corner of your mouth, like a goddamned three year old, Cas".

"Oh", says Cas, and it vanishes.

Dean swallows the guess you don’t mind wasting your mojo on that then, that sits on his tongue, and Cas finishes his sandwich, suddenly quiet, staring down at his sandwich,  though it wasn't like he'd been saying anything before, but it's a different sort of quiet between them now, filled with all the things that Dean wants to scream at him, and can't.

Cas doesn't touch the bananas, but slurps the orange juice, loudly.

Dean watches as Cas licks his lips, tongue darting out to taste the last of it.

When he looks up, Cas is looking at him.

He feels his cheeks heat, caught out.

"You’re sweet", says Cas, suddenly. "Sweeter than all the honey in the world".

And before Dean can process it, he leans forward, brushing his lips against Dean's; a butterfly of a kiss, and then he's gone, in a quiet whoosh, and Dean's left alone, and when he wets his suddenly parched lips, he can taste the faint bitter-sour flavour of canned orange on them.

 One

Well, Dean's not making the same mistake twice.

There's no way he's gonna leave Cas behind.

Where's the angel, he asks, as he hacks his way through Purgatory, where's the angel?

Cas, he prays, c'mon man. Don't do this to me.

Cas, please.

Once he gets slashed by something, some kind of hellbreed that seemed half werewolf, half vampire, and it's pretty bad, but somehow he manages to lose them, holed up high up in cave he'd discovered in some time ago. The view's spectacular from the ridge or would be, if the hills and valleys and forests weren't teeming with things that were out for his blood, and Cas'.

He manages the staunch the bleeding. The gash isn't too deep after all, but he's gonna have to stay put for a couple of days. But then the chills start, and he thinks, shit, shit. Starting a fire is a sure way to get killed, no way he's gonna be able to take on anything more dangerous than a field mouse right now, and fuck, he's exhausted, suddenly, and ok, this wasn't good, the ground seemed to be rushing up to meet his face—

 He's warm.

Cocooned in the softest of embraces, safe, untouchable.

"Mom?" he whispers, "Is that you?"

A hand brushes over his forehead, light and gentle.

He struggles to open his eyes, which seem to be refusing to cooperate.

It's not mom.

"Cas" he rasps, bleary eyed, throat drier than a desert. "Cas?"

"Shh" says Cas, "You're safe now. Rest, Dean."

And it's true, Dean can feel it, cradled here in—Cas' wings, he thinks, sleepily, unable to hold on to the thought. Those are Cas' wings he can feel, sheltering, soft, warm.

"You found me", he mumbles, "I've been looking for you."

"Shhh", Cas rumbles, "Don't talk. It's alright."

"Cas."

A feather light press against his mouth, and then another, and then a third.

"I'm here", Cas whispers, "Dean. Rest now."

But when he wakes up, he's alone.

If it weren't for the healed gash, skin smooth and untouched, every aching muscle restored like he'd been checked into a fancy spa for a month, he'd have been certain he dreamt it.

Then they get topside, and he wishes it had only been a dream, and not one more thing he'd have to forget.

 (Plus One)

 Sam's here, finally.

Bobby had been right, time sure passed different around here.

Sam's here now, and it's perfect.

Almost.

Cas isn't around.

Or he's everywhere, but nowhere where Dean can see him, reach out and touch him.

When he asks around, he gets vague answers.

Ellen says, oh, I think Jack and Cas are in some other planetary system this week.

Two weeks later, by Dean's counting, Rufus says, you just missed him, boy, he was here helping fix my roof not half-hour ago.

Jack says, looking embarrassed, uh, I sent him on a mission, to, um, uh, Andromeda, and then, uh, I have to go, nice seeing you again, Dean, and vanishes before Dean can whup his ass for lying to his family.

Dean gets into the Impala; tells Sam he's got a supply run to make.

"You've got like a 100 cartons of beer, Dean",  says Sam.

"Not beer, Sammy."

Sam gives him a long look.

Dean shrugs, look, it wasn't like Sam didn't know.

Sam nods, once, lips quirking a little.

"Good luck, then" he says.

Dean flips a finger at him.

"C'mon, Baby" he says, as he pulls onto the road, "Take me to him."

 Baby's never let him down.

 Of course, Cas has gone and set his feathery ass down somewhere on the highest mountain that Dean has ever seen, the top of it half hidden in a swirl of clouds. There's only a narrow trail, no way to take Baby up, so he parks her under the shade of a leafy tree of some species he's pretty sure isn't found on earth, and shrugs off his jacket, wrapping it around his waist.

Jesus, but Cas could be a real dick, and it wasn't like Dean didn't already know that, but, wow.

 The trail is narrow, though not very steep, and the foliage dense for most parts, as he begins to climb. There's a river or a small waterfall somewhere, he can hear the sound of it, a muted roar. Up and up it goes, through plants and shrubs- or things that look like plants or shrubs, he can't be sure of anything here, he's realized. Occasionally, a small woodland creature of indeterminate origin will cross his path. Some of them stop and stare. One or two get experimentally close, while he stands as still as possible, and lets them acclimatize themselves to his scent. The foliage isn't dense enough to block out all sunlight, and every now and again the path will emerge onto an outcrop of rock and grass, probably intended as a rest-stop for the weary. Dean's only slightly out of breath, though the air gets cooler as he goes higher. But the sun is warm enough for a sheen of sweat to form, making his t shirt stick to his spine.

He sinks down onto a convenient grassy knoll and takes a few breaths. Clouds float lazily over the valley below, that stretches out farther than his eye can see. The river he's hearing winds through it, clear and blue, through acres and acres of green and violet, and brown and red. He turns his face up toward the sky.

Was it possible to get sunburn in Heaven?

Well, he was going to find out.

He turns his head a little.

He's about half way up the mountain, he estimates.

Given the position of the sun, he's been climbing about three hours.

Making me work for it, huh, buddy? Dick move, Cas, gotta tell you that.

Something rustles in the grass near him: a tiny grass snake, slim and green.

Snakes in paradise, wow, wasn't that theologically wrong or something?

But it gives him a beady eyed look and slithers over his outstretched palm and then away, unbothered, leaving behind a fleeting sense of dry leather.

Dean sighs.

"Cas?" he says, softly. "You're waiting for me, right?"

He doesn't know what he'll do if Cas isn't.

The thought makes his heart triphammer in his chest, fear gripping it.

What if he was too late, again?

But he's got to believe that he's right about this.

That he's here because Cas is ready, finally, to let Dean find him.

In those years after Purgatory, they'd never managed, somehow to make it work.

Every time Cas left—every time Cas came back—it got harder, somehow, to say, don't go, please, I need you, forgive me, stay.

Dean- he'd just become angrier and meaner, falling deeper and deeper and this was a grave that even Cas couldn't pull him out of. And then, when he'd been ready-almost—that second time in Purgatory, it had seemed like Cas wasn't ready, though surely, he knew, why else had he stopped Dean—

But the joke was on Dean, because Cas hadn't known, and then it had been too late. Cas was slipping through his fingers one more time, beatific in his joy, as he threw himself into the pit for Dean, and Dean had known, had known, that it was the last time.

 When it was all over, he had waited.

Hope was a thing with feathers.

He had waited for Jack to bring Cas back to them, to Dean.

But Jack hadn't.

No way that Jack hadn't sprung Cas from the Empty, there was just no fucking way that would have happened, so that meant that Cas didn't want to see Dean.

And alright, maybe Dean deserved that, maybe that was his penance, and he would do it, gladly.

He wouldn't complain, and he'd go through the rest of his life with a piece of him missing, and it was what it was, there were things you couldn't undo, there were sorrows that had to be borne.

On the bad days, after a hunt that went wrong- there were, after all, still some of those—he'd lie  in bed, every tendon and muscle and bone aching, and when he closed his eyes, he'd try to will himself back there, to that cave in Purgatory, the safety and comfort of Cas' shelter, and the sweet press of his lips against Dean's.

Sweeter than all the honey in the world.

 He blinks awake.

Apparently he'd taken a nap, though given that the sun was still steadily beating down on his face—and yes, you could get sunburn in heaven, thanks for nothing Jack—it hadn't been too long.

It takes another two hours, and he's almost giving up hope, wondering whether he's going to end up just spending the night alone on this mountain after all, when he breaks through a particularly dense grove and finds himself in a middle of a garden.

The garden- in flagrant, dizzying bloom around a cobbled stone path that leads to a small wooden cabin nestled against the wall of the mountain- has an occupant.

Dean feels like his breath was punched out of him.

My true form is as tall as the Chrysler building, Cas had once said, the lying liar that he was, because he's probably twice as tall. He's all iridescent wings that span twenty feet either side, and a dozen wheels spinning in different directions and something that looks like blue flames trailing the edges of his wings, and Dean is—

Jesus.

Cas turns toward him at that, and Dean senses his-shock?- before the almost unbearable brightness dims slowly, coalescing into a familiar shape.

"Not quite", says Cas. "Hello, Dean."

Dean's feet seem locked to the ground, and Cas doesn't make a move toward him either.

"Hi", Dean breathes out, the air rushing out of his lungs with the word. "Cas."

Cas has switched out the trenchcoat and suit for comfortable looking pair of white linen pants and a loose short tunic of sky blue, that match his eyes, and there's what looks like a week's worth of stubble along his jaw.

"Heaven can't afford a razor?" is what Dean says next, like the idiot he is.

Cas' eyes crinkle. "I've been told it makes me more attractive".

What, who- no- fuck.

Dean's already up in Cas' space before he realizes it.

"Who told you that?" he rasps, and up close he can see the flecks of grey in the stubble, and at Cas' temples, and yes, it made him breathtakingly hot, but damned if Dean was going to— "They were lying, just so you know."

Cas is smiling at him.

"Dean," he says, softly.

Dean reaches out to run a finger against his jaw, going against the grain, ends up with his fingers resting lightly against Cas' cheek, just under his ear.

"You’re a dick" he says, softly, "you know that?"

Cas nods.

"I've been" starts Dean, and then finds he's out of words, takes a shuddery breath instead, furiously trying to blink away the wetness in his eyes.

Cas's hands cup his face, warm and sure, and he draws Dean's forehead down to his.

"I know", Cas says, softly. "But I would do it again if it meant I saved you. I would do it all again."

"I should have told you," whispers Dean, "I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough."

"Dean", says Cas, softly, "You've always been enough."

Above them the sky starts turning a fiery orange as the first of the suns starts to set.

Cas' wings- which he hasn't tucked away- take on a metallic shine, but they feel warm, and safe, just like Dean remembers.

Dean kisses him, softly, once, then again, then again.

"Sweeter than all the honey in the world", he whispers, glad that there's nobody to hear this but Cas.

"You don't even like honey", says Cas, after a moment. "You never let Sam put any in your tea."

Dean draws back.

"You don’t remember", he accuses, genuinely horrified.

Cas' brows draw together in a frown.

"What?"

"You kissed me! And said—well you said what you said! Back in the day when you were all crazy!"

"Which time?"

Dean groans, thumping his head onto Cas' shoulder.

Cas buries his nose in Dean's hair and tucks him closer in his embrace.

"I remember" he confesses, quietly, after a moment. "But I thought you'd want to forget it."

"Cas", Dean, sighing, as he turns to nuzzle the soft, tender skin beneath Cas' ear, placing a small kiss there, as he presses closer. "Let's never talk about this again, ok?"

#spn #supernatural #destiel #dean x cas #gosh i hope this one makes you feel a bit better #<3 <3 <3

[world-of-aus]

Behind the Screen - (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5,412

Warnings: smut 18+

Author’s Note: First chapter guys, i had a lot of fun writing this, and i hope you all enjoy this first chapter. Smut is also not my forte, but i like to try new things so i hope i did it justice lol. If y’all would like to be added to the tag-list for future chapters, or taken off please send me a message! Feedback is always appreciated in anyway, so let me know what you think, let me know your thoughts what your expecting! Thank you for reading!

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Hey Wilson, you seen y/n?” Bucky questioned from his spot on the couch.

Sam shook his head, “Yeah earlier, she said she had something to do real quick before she was going to join us, shouldn’t be long.”

“Wasn’t that like 30 minutes ago?” Steve spoke up.

Sam shrugged his shoulder his eyes not leaving the TV screen, “I don’t know man, if y’all are so worried why don’t you send Tin Man to go find her.”

Bucky mulled it over before he was pushing up from the lounger, “where you going Buck?” Steve called out over his shoulder as Bucky retreated from the room.

Bucky didn’t bother with a reply, they all knew he was going to get you.

You were perched on your bed laptop in hand, your fingers working over your latest post the white glare from the computer illuminating your features. You couldn’t wait to get this new post out; your newest work had your readers begging for more, there just wasn’t enough time in your day to crunch out the words that bounced around in your mind. Recently your readers had begun to get antsy with you especially behind “anon”, there was many coming after you for not writing Bucky to the best of your ability. How did they expect you to give them your best work when you didn’t know how the man was in bed? It’s not like you could confront your teammate and ask him to help you write fanfiction about him and how he pleases women in bed.

I mean imagine the conversation,

“Hey Buck so you might not know this about me, but I write fanfiction,” awkward pause, “about you, and well do you think you could maybe guide me through it?”

You scoffed rolling your eyes at your inner dialogue, you stared at the blank white screen the cursor blinking at you, waiting. Your fingers hovered over the board, but your mind was drawing blanks, the words were there not even a minute ago, how did you lose them so quickly. You groaned pushing the laptop to the side, maybe it was time to go join the others, it had been a little over thirty minutes since you had told them you would return. Deciding you needed the break from the screen you pushed yourself from the bed making your way to your bathroom to freshen up.

Bucky walked the quiet hallways passing the other team's quarters before he finally came across yours. Bucky never bothered knocking, if he reached for the door handle and it wasn’t locked, he would just let himself in. Entering your room, he saw no sign of you except for your lone laptop that he had recently seen you glued to. He wasn’t sure what had you so entranced to the screen, but at the same time he understood it could possibly be a hobby that you were working on, especially during down time from missions or training. He looked around your quarters and noticed the sliver of light peeking from the bottom of your bathroom. Deciding to wait for you, he walked over to your bed plopping himself on the cushioned comforter. He reached for you laptop to see if he could get a peek at what had you glued to the device, and a peek he got. His cheeks were flamed rosy, his pants suddenly feeling a little tighter, while he wasn’t sure what to think, he was tickled pink at the words he read. So, this is what you did on your past time. He looked over the browser, his brows scrunched in confusion, what was Tumblr?

“Barnes what are you doing with my laptop?!”

Bucky looked up from the screen eyes blown wide matching yours, “Uh, I could ask you the same.” he murmured turning your screen to you.

Your heart dropped into the depths of your stomach, face going deathly pale, oh god, oh god, he knew, gathering your bearings you lurched forward lunging for the laptop in his hands. Bucky ducked out of your way falling back into your pillows laptop still clutched in his grip. You crawled half on top of him, “Goddamnit Barnes, give me my laptop back!” you growled.

He continued to dodge your attempts at grabbing your possession, “not until you explain what this is.” he grunted, his metal appendage pushing at your head.

“There is nothing to explain,” you hissed, “now give me the damn thing!”

You continued to claw your way up his body, though for every inch you climbed you were quickly scooted down by the cool metal pushing at your head.

“Nothing to explain?” he questioned, “I think there’s a lot to explain, like what the hell is Tumblr, and why are there people writing about me and some person named “y/n” he grunted “did you just bite my finger?” he questioned eyes glaring at you.

Your movements stalled, “Oh I'm sorry, I didn’t realize your vibranium hand had any feeling.” you deadpanned.

Your eyes caught the moment Bucky’s form began to fall, being a trained assassin had come in handy, taking your chance you lunged forward getting a grip on the laptop. Bucky grunted at the awkward position, “Jesus Christ,” he grunted, “what the fuck, ow!” he growled, “fucking hell y/n!” Bucky being stronger than you pulled the laptop from your measly grip flinging It to the side as he pushed you onto your bed, his frame covering yours, “would you stop fucking squirming, if it was nothing why are you putting up such a fight,” he grunted catching your swinging hands in his, pushing them down into the bed.

“I'm putting up a fight because you were going through my personal things, ever heard of the word privacy nosey ass” you hissed glaring at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes at you continuing to push your frame down into the bed, maybe you could use this as a future reference.

“Now that you’ve stopped squirming maybe we could actually have a conversation.” he murmured looking down at you.

Dread filled you again, “There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, at least nothing I want to talk about with you,” you groaned, “will you please just leave it alone.”

“I won’t leave it alone, I think I deserve an explanation,” he voiced, “you either tell me what I want to know or we can be like this all night.” he grunted applying more weight onto yours. Jesus, you could really use this as a reference but you weren't sure how to describe “Dead weight” would that even be considered sexy, you weren’t sure it would have your readers on the edge of their seats thighs clenched, cheeks rosy, giggling behind their phones, as they read your latest post.

“y/n, doll!” he muttered snapping his fingers in front of your dazed face.

You knew there was no getting out of this, there was definitely no denying what he had seen, possibly read. God what had you even written, how much had he seen. You knew this wasn’t going to end good, “what do you want to know?” you murmured, eyes not meeting his.

“what’s Tumblr?”

You sighed, you were really going to do this, you’re already in the rabbit hole, might as well keeping digging yourself further. “Tumblr is a blog site, users can post different types of media on it, they post videos, pictures, written posts - ”

“is that what you do?” he questioned cutting you off.

You groaned cheeks turning pink in embarrassment, “Yes buck, can you please get off me, please,” you murmured.

“who’s x reader, also who’s y/n, do I know them, because I don’t recall doing any of what i read with them.”

Your eyes slipped shut, oh god you couldn’t breathe, you prayed that a hole would open up beneath you and swallow you whole, “Barnes please get off me, I don’t want to do this!” you grunted trying to buck the man off you, you were on the verge of a panic attack.

“No, not until you explain it to me, then I'll get off,” he grunted applying more of his weight down onto you. This man was a damn wall of muscle, it was useless, there was no getting out of this, a growl left your lips, “Fuck okay, I’m not sure what you saw, but you more than likely saw my blog, and I write on my blog as I answered earlier,” you groaned, you didn’t want to say it, “I also,” a pause, another moan of embarrassment, “I also,” deep breath, “ I also write fanfiction about you,” oh god you cringed, this sounds much worse coming out of your mouth than it did when the words had been in your head. “the reader is anyone who also like me sits behind the screen of a computer reading the posts, and y/n is the reader, its abbreviated for your name, and no you didn’t do any of those things but it’s what writers like myself imagine you would do.” a sigh left your lips, eyes clenched undeniably tight, god you wanted this nightmare to be over, “can you please get off now.” you whispered feeling utterly ashamed.

You felt his hands leave yours, the weight and heat of his body a distant memory as he shifted off of you. Your eyes remained screwed shut, god you had really done it now, you should have never started the blog, what were you expecting. He was probably getting ready to go tell the others what you were up to, tell them everything he had seen, tell them about you embarrassing past time.

“Can you show me some more?”

Your eyes shot open, head turning to the side to see Bucky staring at you intently, your mouth parted slightly, “excuse me?” you choked out, he couldn’t be serious. “You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

“oh, I’m serious,” he murmured grabbing a hold of your laptop and pushing it towards you, “here.”

You glanced from him to the laptop, then back, “you’re actually serious?” you questioned brow raised.

“wouldn’t still be here if I wasn’t,” he murmured sliding closer to you, “now come on, show me, I'm curious.”

You cautiously flipped onto your stomach, you weren’t sure he was ready for what exactly was out there, but he had asked, and if it kept the attention off of you, anything would be better.

Bucky was glued to the screen, his eyes roaming the vast words and posts written about him, your eyes stayed trained on him looking, watching, waiting for a reaction, there was none. He was stiff as stone.

“this is all wrong” he muttered turning to you, “i wouldn’t do this.”

You raised a brow at him, “its fanfiction Bucky, it’s not supposed to be real,” you explained, “the writers are doing just that, they’re writing they’re perspective of you, some of them are really talented.” You added.

“Well yeah I can see that, but still I wouldn’t do it like this, they didn’t capture me right I wouldn’t get straight into it like this.”

A laugh slipped past your lips, “Bucky the writers on the other side of the screen can only imagine these things about you, they won’t always get you down to a T, they can only imagine how you’d be, how they would want you to be.”

“so, then you do it,” he voiced perking up, “write me and this y/n character, there's no one that knows me better than you, well aside from Steve, I could guide you through it.”

Your eyes went wide slightly, “buck I don’t think that’s a good idea, I never wanted you to find out about this and now your offering to help me write, you can’t be serious.” you murmured.

“it could be fun,” he exclaimed, “who better to help write about me, than me.” he deadpanned.

You groaned your hands coming up to cover your face, “bucky you honestly don’t know what you’re saying, you shouldn’t even be this calm about all of this, for fucks sake you just found out I write about you and now you want me to let you help me write,” you paused, “about you, you sure your arm didn’t short circuit and mess with your head?”

Bucky chuckled deeply his hands reaching up to pull yours away from your face, “Look I'm not saying that I'm not freaked out by all of this, but if I can be honest its kind of flattering to know so many people write about me like this, not that I can understand why” he murmured, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing a more accurate description, and who better to give that to the readers than someone that can be guided by me?” he questioned.

“bucky,” you groaned.

“come on doll, indulge an old man,” he teased, “help me, to help you.”

You couldn’t really be thinking this would be a good idea, but then maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Bucky could guide you through some parts of your stories that just wouldn’t flow through your finger’s right, maybe the grouchy anons would back off, you bit your lip in thought.

Your groaned your body flailing a bit as you really mulled it over, “fine,” you muttered, “but the second you get all weird I’m kicking you out, understood?” you questioned.? t.”

He grinned at you his hands rubbing together, “deal.” You really were beginning to think his arm had short circuited.

“One more thing, you can’t tell the team about this at all, it’s weird enough you knowing, I don’t need the others knowing what I do.” You voiced.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Bucky was speaking up, “do they write about the others?”

“Bucky would you stop squirming, you’re not letting me think,” you muttered turning your head away from the screen to glare at him.

He stopped moving eyes going from yours back to the white screen, you sighed rubbing your temples, you were really beginning to regret ever agreeing to this. It had been about thirty minutes since Bucky had taken a look at your most recent post you were working on, you were currently trying to rub out a steamy oral scene between Bucky and the reader and let’s just say it wasn’t happening. If it wasn’t happening before the whole ordeal with Bucky, it surely wasn’t coming to you now. You had tried time and time again for the past thirty minutes to find the right words but between the squirming super solider next to you, and your mind replaying the events of this evening it just wasn’t going to happen.

“alright that’s it, I can’t do this,” you sighed reaching to shut the laptop.

Bucky reached out for your hand stopping your movements before you could shut it completely, your head turned towards his, brow raised, “you're not capturing the scene right doll, you’re not capturing the moment right.”

Your head tilted back slightly in disbelief, “well excuse me,” you muttered pulling your hand from his, “if you know so much, why don’t you write It?” you questioned sarcastically shoving the laptop in his direction.

He sighed, “I'm not the one that has a way with words doll, that’s you,” he pointed out, “besides I'm better with actions.” he added eyes twinkling.

“so, what are you implying buck, are you going to show me how you please a woman orally?” you questioned jokingly.

He perked up, “I could do that,” he agreed, “that way you could really get into the right mindset, you could really be in the moment.”

You choked on your saliva looking at Bucky in disbelief, “Barnes I was joking!” you coughed, “I wasn’t being serious.”

“oh come on now sweetheart,” he grinned, “you would be knocking out two birds with one stone.”

“look at you learning,” you deadpanned, “and the answer is no Buck, now stop before I make you leave.” you muttered.

He turned on his side facing you, sliding closer laptop forgotten, “I’m being serious y/n,” he started, “you could get real life inspiration for the next part of your post, and also get some pleasure from it, it’ll be a win win .”

“okay that’s it,” you muttered sitting up, “out buck, I don’t have time for these games.”

He sat up with you, “who said I'm playing games?” he questioned.

You looked up at your ceiling a sigh leaving your lips before you were meeting Bucky’s gaze again, “Bucky, seriously, stop, this isn’t funny.” you murmured shaking your head.

Bucky’s hand reached out taking yours In his, “who said this is a game?” he questioned staring at you in earnest.

“You can’t actually want to do this Buck, I get that you discovered my secret, what I do on my down time, but you don’t need to help me with this, we’re best friends Buck, this could make things weirder than it probably already is.” you muttered pulling your hand from his, eyes looking away.

“Us being best friends should make this that much easier, you can tell me when you’re feeling uncomfortable and I'll stop, this wouldn’t make things weird between us, besides you’d be helping me too, we’d be helping each other.” he said his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers hooked under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him, stormy grey eyes staring back at you intently.

“Buck,” you sighed, your resolve was really failing you, you couldn’t lie to yourself by saying you didn’t want this, hell you had fantasized a moment like this for god knows how long, there’s only so much writers can offer you, but now that you were being given the opportunity to experience the real thing, were you really about to let this slip you by?

“this really isn’t a good idea Buck, it just doesn’t feel right,” you sighed body slouching.

He chuckled lowly, his body leaning in towards yours, breath fanning across your face, “it sounds like a great idea,” he murmured, “we’d both be getting something out of it, and that way, next time you write me giving our reader oral, you’ll know exactly what it feels like.”

You sucked in a breath at his words, your voice caught in your throat as he leaned even closer, his forehead pressing against yours, “come on doll, what do you say?” he questioned softly lips brushing against yours.

You nodded your head shakily, “okay,” you breathed.

Bucky surged forward his lips pressing against yours, your eyes slipping shut at the sensation of his lips gliding against your own. His flesh hand trailed its way up your body, around your neck where it tangled through your hair, his metal one finding its way onto your hip, squeezing.

Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, a breathy gasp falling from your lips. He seizes this opportunity to push his tongue in, he licks at you coaxing your tongue to dance with his. Your lungs burn from the intensity of the kiss, you pull away gasping for air, eyes dazed as you stare at Bucky his lips swollen and glistening in the dim light of your room.

Your hands reach out to touch him, fingers sliding up his torso, only to gravitate back down, his hands reach for yours stopping your movements before you can reach for the button of his jeans. He shakes his head a soft smile on his lips, “this isn’t about me sweetheart,” he murmurs leaning forward to nip at your lip, “this is about you,” he breaths.

The air around you is tense, your body thrumming with want. You don’t move though as Bucky’s eyes watch you, you wait with baited breath as Bucky’s hand untangles from your hair reaching down to get a grip on the hem of your shirt. He lifts up slowly, pulling the shirt off of you before tossing it off to the side. His eyes darken as he watches your ample breasts rise and fall. Your breath catches in your throat, you had never had a man look at you like this. The anticipation for what was to come next was building.

Unsuspecting, Bucky has you on your back in seconds, his frame hovering over yours, he leans down, his nose brushing against your chin, lips lowering till they’re meeting the skin of your neck. He kisses along the expanse of your neck drawing out breathy moans from your lips, a soft gasp follows when his teeth nip at your collarbone. You feel the coolness of his left hand trail up your stomach your body arching with it, it stops along the swell of your breast. His thumb reaches out sliding into the fabric of your bra, gliding over a now hardened nipple, the heat pools between your legs. A breathy moan falls from your lips at the sensation, Bucky chuckles lowly, warmth breath fanning across your dampened skin.

You whine as he pulls his hand from your breast, his hand trailing lower, you suck in a breath as his hand hovers over the top of your jeans, metal fingers popping open the button. His hand flattens against your body dipping into your jeans, fingers cupping you through your dampened underwear, a moan falls from your lips as he presses a single digit into your folds, wetting the fabric of your panties more.

“Mmm Buck,” you moan.

Bucky grins against your neck, his lips gliding up till they’re right by your ear, “I’m a giving person sweetheart,” he whispers, “i don’t just get right into the action, I like to play a little,” he husks, “i want to have you begging, I want to have you a moaning mess under me.” he breathes teeth nipping at your ear.

“Fuck,” you groan back arching off of the bed, Bucky presses his hand down harder against you stilling your hips. He pulls his face away from your neck his eyes holding yours, “keep your eyes on me.” He whispers, you swallow. You suck in a breath as his fingers push your panties to the side, his index finger finding it’s way into your dampened folds. The sensation alone has a breathy “Bucky” falling from your lips followed by a broken moan as his finger grazes your clit.

His fingers work over your clit your body writhing under his hand, broken desperate moans falling from your lips. A whine leaves your lips as Bucky tears his hand from your underwear, “Bucky please,” you moan.

He chuckles “patience sweetheart, let me make you feel good.” He whispers ducking down to press his lips to yours. Your lips chase his as they find their way back to your neck. He licks, sucks, and nips at your skin as he trails down your body. From your neck, down the valley of your breast till he’s reaching the top of your jeans. You watch him pull away from you leaning back on his feet as his hands reach down pulling on your jeans till your able to kick them off the rest of the way for him.

He’s slipping from the bed, his hands pulling on your thighs as he drags you down the edge of the bed. He sinks to his knee his head lowering, his warm breath fans across your mound, a shiver rolling through you. He doesn’t move, you begin to worry, maybe he had changed his mind, “Buck, we don’t have to- ” a loud moan breaks through your words, his mouth presses harshly against your cotton covered pussy, tongue pressing into you, the fabric rubbing against your aching clit.

“Jesus Buck,” you gasp body arching off of the bed.

He laughs lowly, tongue still running over your covered mound, he gazes up at you from between your legs, “ I told you sweetheart, patience.” You would definitely be adding this to your story you thought as another moan ripped through you Bucky’s head having moved from your aching core to nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your hands reach down to tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your sensitive thighs. His thumb presses into you, rubbing against your aching clit, the fabric of your panties dragging deliciously against it. Your feet dig into his back, your body writhing on the bed. He glances up at you from where he’s perched between your legs, his eyes darkening, “ you think you could cum like this, you think you could cum for me.” He questions his breath ghosting over you.

A breathy “yes” falls from your lips, your body is buzzing with the need for release the teasing too much. Bucky continues to nip and suck at your sensitive skin, thumb working faster against your clit. “Fuck,” you gasp , “please Bucky,” you plead, “please,” you beg. Your desperate for him, for the need of release. His thumb pushes into you harder, working over you faster, his lips latching onto you skin sucking. A chant of his name falls from your lips as your orgasm takes you by surprise, your head pushing back into the sheets your back arching off the bed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Bucky barley gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s moving, his hands gripping the middle of your panties, ripping them down the middle.

“Bucky did you just -”

Your words fall short as he’s pressing against you again, his face presses in close, his tongue peeking out to press against your folds. His tongue dips in dragging across your entrance till he’s flicking up against your clit, the tip of his tongue circling it. Your chest heaves as breathy moans fall from your lips, your thighs clenching around his head from the pleasure surging through you.  Bucky grips your thighs pushing them open, spreading you out for him, your back arches, breast pushing into the cooled air as his tongue flicks teasingly in and out of your soaked folds.

Your fingers grasp the sheets beneath you, twisting them in your hold. His mouth works over you, taking you higher, he’s alternating between your clit and your dripping entrance. His tongue will drag over your clit before it’s dipping down to bury into your entrance his tongue fucking into you till your screaming his name.

“Bucky fuck,” you moan, “please,” you whine.

He continues to work you over, moans of pleasure falling from his lips, the vibrations leaving you quaking in his hold. Your fingers find their way into his hair, your eyes glancing down at him the sight alone leaving you a breathless mess. He glances up his ocean grey eyes connecting with yours, you weren’t sure it was possible but they seemingly darkened more as he pushed you closer to release. His arms wrap around your spread thighs pulling you into him more, his lips work faster, tongue gliding quicker as he works you over. A loud moan falls from your lips as he quickens the pace, his name falling from your lips in a silent prayer as your grind  up against his mouth. A moan catches in your throat, his lips finding your clit as he sucks harshly, his tongue working over it with quick strokes. Your pussy clenches, body heaving as the intense pleasure washes over you. Bucky doesn’t stop as he works you through your orgasm his tongue continuously flicking over you, dipping into you to suck up your juices. Your vision goes white as you clench around him fingers pulling at his hair.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out thighs trembling as you wind down, Bucky chuckles as he moves up your body kissing up your sweat slicked skin. He looms over you eyes hooded with lust, a small smile on his glistening lips. Your hands come up wrapping themselves around the back of his neck pulling him down to you. Your lips press against his, a groan falling from your lips as you taste yourself on his sinful tongue. You lean up slightly your arms moving from Bucky’s neck to his shoulders as you move him around till he’s flat on his back on your bed. You straddle him, his hands finding a spot on your waist as he squeezes you,

“I thought this was about you doll,” he husks grinning up at you.

You roll your hips over his slightly, leaning your body over his, “it was, but I’d like to return the favor,” you whispered lips ghosting over his, your tongue peeking out to run over his plush lips. Sliding yourself down his firm body you stop once your seated on his thick thighs. Running your hands down his torso, your fingers work at popping the buttons of his jeans open, helping him shimmy them off, your tongue running over your lips as his cock springs free. You scoot down the bed settling yourself between his spread legs, leaning down as you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. A low grunt falls from his lips as you take the base of his cock into your hands, your tongue swirling around the tip. You continue to work your mouth over him indulging in the sinful noises that drip from his lips. “Fuck y/n,” he grunts, “fuck you gotta stop if you want me to finish this the right way.”

You grin up at him, you lips spit slicked, “fuck doll, come here.” He whispers gripping your arms as he hauls you up. He kisses your roughly, his tongue running over yours before he’s flipping the two of you, your back meeting the cool sheets.

Pushing your thighs apart he settles between them, gripping his cock in hand he runs it through your folds teasingly before he’s pressing in, a slow delicious burn that’s rolls a shiver through your spine. Bucky leans down his forehead pressing down onto yours, breathing each other in as he rolls his hips into you. His cock drags in and out of you, at a slow toe curling pace. Your body writhes against him, your heels digging into his ass to press him to you closer, you need to feel him, you want to feel him.

Bucky changes the angle; unwrapping your legs,  he hauls one over his shoulder the other gripped tightly in his hand as he spreads you out, the angle driving him impossibly deeper, a gasp catches on your throat, “fuck,” you moan, “fuck right there,” you gasp.

“Come on sweetheart, let me feel you, cum for me.” He grunts his thrust jarring you.

A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit has you shouting out his name in a breathy moan. Your back arches, thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure wash over you. Bucky continues to push into you, dragging out your orgasm as his takes over, your name tumbling from his lips as he crashes into you.

Bucky slumps forward his face falling into your neck as he takes in a shuddering breath. “Fuck,” he grunts, “that’s going to be a hell of a fic,” he murmurs pressing his lips to your skin.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, right the fic, you think, that’s why this had happened, Bucky was helping you out, and help he did. Bucky rolls off to his side propping himself up on his elbow as he smiles down at you, your body lax against the sheets.

“When are you going to finish writing it?” He grins

“Not right now, m’ too tired, hopefully sometime in the morning” you murmured.

“So In these fics do like me and the reader cuddle?” He questions a teasing twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know Barnes, it depends,” you reply, “are you a post sex cuddler?”

“for the right girl,” he grins opening his arms, “c’mere doll,” He murmurs wrapping you in his arms a sloppy wet kiss placed to your heated cheeks.

Your readers are in for a hell of a surprise,” he murmurs into your hair.

“That they are,” you whisper, “that they are.”

Part 2

Behind The Scenes Tag-list: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004​ @multy-fandom-lover​ @otvlanga​ @sailorstupidsblog​

#behind the scenes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au series #marvel au #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #au series

[stargazerinmoksha]

I am trying to come from a place of understanding, so what I’ll write here will make sense once it is all written down. I have spent a good portion of the last few years inside of this hateful place and to everyone that is still there, I want to be that beacon of hope for you. You will make it out. I lived in this wallowing pit of pity and anger, an anguish so chaotic that it sapped my smile right out of my face. I don’t need to be perfect, I don’t need to be anything, I honestly didn’t even feel like existing. I would wake up and I just hated the feeling of going through the day because of my constant fuck ups and to be honest with you? Was that really any way to live? I tried some acid two months ago and yeah, the visuals were wild, but I went to brush my teeth and for a second I caught a glimpse of my reflection inside of the faucet head and I felt like I saw myself for the very first time. I always hated looking at myself. The cruelty that we deal to ourselves is by far some of the most saddest shit anyone can go through. No one deserves to wake up and feel like that. I just cried. I didn’t know what else to do, I guess my first reaction was to just let it out. To just feel. To feel like I gave enough fucks to tell myself that it’s okay if I’ve been hurt or if I’ve hurt people before. It’s okay, just don’t do it again. A month ago I went on a trip to Colorado and I almost died, I decided to quit smoking cigarettes and vaping period, I wanted to let that part of my life go. I got into a wreck and I almost killed my cousin along with myself. I should’ve bought a pack, but I wanted to stick to it. I wanted to be responsible. It fucked up my little vacation, but I managed to grab some shrooms and went home to see if I could see something.

Yes, this is a story about how I found my faith inside of such tiny things. I hear talks about bad trips and visuals, but I never thought for a second that I would have felt this warm embrace, a love so dear to me— something that I’ve never felt before. Nothing like sex. Nothing like drugs. I know why psychedelics are illegal now, because if everyone went into it with a stable mind and good intentions, the world would find so many answers. I’m not telling you to try it, I’m telling you that our paths all converge eventually. Your karma cycle will repeat itself until you’ve made peace with your demons. I am just a man, but here, I write. My poetry doesn’t sound so sad anymore and that makes me so damn happy. It took me four years to make peace with that part of myself and I know that there’s so many people out there that’s still hurting. I started writing my sappy poetry on tumblr because I couldn’t deal

with my heartache, and a lot of people read and they read and they read some more. I’ve made so many connections through my writings, I’ve become a madman and now I write as easily as breathing, it’s my meditative state. I am telling you all of these personal things because the truth of the matter is that no matter where you go, who you’re with, no matter how bad things get, I wanted you to know that somewhere, someone understands me. Even if for a split second, I want you to know that it does get better. Shrooms showed me where all of our knowledge should be stored, our hearts may break, our minds may succumb to a darkness that only the rarest of flowers may thrive— you are that flower.

You can be big and tough, you can be short and fit, you may not feel like you’re pretty, you may not feel beautiful, you may hate yourself everyday for letting the one get away, you may be the cheater, you may have been cheated on, you may choose to be alone, you might just want to live with your dogs, that’s cool too. There’s love everywhere and you won’t always get along with everyone, that’s okay too. I just want to function from a place of understanding. So this is where I’m at. I love you. I love you regardless if you hate me for being me, even if you think I’ve taken something from you. I love you regardless. I love you even if we don’t talk often, even if we’re on this endless cycle of come back home to me some day. I love you even if you aren’t really who you said you were, I loved you before that knowledge and I will love you then. I love you even if you can only get three hours of sleep a day because on that third hour you have batshit crazy nightmares and call me to help you smile. I love you even if you’ve felt lost and not quite at home, you can always find a home with me. I love you even if you have wronged me and I’ve wronged you back because even if I gave you my heart once, I promise it’s still there. I love you even if you’re unsure about the prospects of an us and that’s okay, as long as you’re trying, I can get down with that. I love you even if it was pure forgetfulness on your part to tell me about yourself and your life, all is forgiven.

I love you even if we sit in silence and I want to hug you and tell you that it’s okay, it’s okay if you didn’t know how to be my dad. You’re here now and that counts. I love you even if you constantly yell and belittle me because I only have one mother in my life and no one can ever replace you. I love you even if you’re dead ass broke and don’t have a single cent to your name, if I fuck with you, I fuck with you, point, blank, period. I love you even if you’re heavily opinionated and all you want to do is talk, I will always have your back. I love you even if you’re extremely stoic as fuck and it get under my empath’s mind, I love you always. I love you so much and I hope all of you grow up to be safe and beautiful. You are so dear to me and you know who you are, I am living on borrowed time and I might not be here by tomorrow, but if you read this just know that it has always been about you. I love you even if you showed your face to me during a time when I was high as fuck, I have such a complex relationship with you God, but I know that you mean well and I can only receive your love and knowledge when I am ready. I love so much and it hurts to love this deep, but I have to make peace with all that I am and if love is the greatest thing that I have to offer, then all that I love is also a part of me. I write to let you know that if this is the worst part of my story, I will write a better ending.

I write this to let you know that self-love starts when you’re ready. It won’t start any sooner than that. And if you try to rush it and go to a place that you’re not supposed to be, you will be sent back like a shooting star that’ll split into two, someone might wish upon you— I am sure you’ll grant their wish. I can only pray that you know I mean well. I hope that you drank some water today, I hope that you ate some food today. I hope that you’re safe and get a chance to know love. Like real love, like for real love, love that hits you up just to smile and laugh with you. Love that lets go of envy and jealousy. I have been there, I’ve done that. I don’t want that in my heart. I want to forgive myself for all of it. You see, love starts there because how can I love anyone if I don’t love myself first. Love starts when you start making changes to how you love. Love starts when you’re ready. So start with yourself, when was the last time you did something nice for yourself? No, not like smoking a joint or taking shrooms haha. More like waking up and doing your blanket as your first kind act of the day, a clean bed will start a clean day. Your room is a direct mirror of your inner world.

Learn more about yourself. Learn about your strengths and weaknesses and I promise, the money will follow. Learn to attract the things that you truly want. The things that truly make your heart feel warmer for the cold days. I want to function from a place of genuine kindness, understanding and love. It’s okay if you hate me, you will find a place in your heart to grow that into something wonderful. Yeah, I’m on my bullshit again, but if you read this whole fucking thing, you’ll know that I meant well. And if you find something in here that’s about you, don’t be afraid to hit me up about it. I wrote it with that in mind. Please enjoy your day and remember, it starts whenever you’re ready. Not any sooner or any later— it begins when you’re content with being here in this moment. The right now, the right here. Don’t worry, you got this because if I made it through, you can too.

— “How can you love anything if you don’t know how to love yourself?”

#poetry #spilled ink #prose #poems #quotes #words #love #quote #a thought or two #thank you for reading

[space-------kid]

hi!! this is my first time requesting anything on tumblr, so forgive me lmao. do you think you write tanjirou (trying) to comfort his s/o after a traumatic mission? thank you, have a good day:)

Hello! Thank you for sending in your request, so please don’t apologize! And to answer your question: Of course, and with pleasure! 😊💕💕💕

(I hope you won’t mind if I took the headcanon route with this one! 😅) 

[2 slots are still open for one-shot/headcanon requests: ✎ ✎ ✎ ]

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼/𝓸 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓪 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝒦𝒶𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑜 𝒯𝒶𝓃𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺  

As soon as he heard the news, Tanjiro would immediately head straight for the Butterfly Estate after finishing a surprisingly easy (thank the gods!) mission.

Dread weighed heavily in his stomach and his heart felt as if it was gripped by icy, iron fists while his mind ran a mile a minute as he thought of you.

He prays – pleads – for any god who might listen that you haven’t sustained any permanent injury in your previous mission. The fact that one of the Hashira has made an appearance, however, accounts for the gravity of the situation you and your colleagues for the joint mission you have found yourselves in.

His nose would instantly catch the scent of your distress even before he could hear your terrified screams as the Kakushi tried their best to calm you down.

He would run past Aoi with a sincere apology when she tried to stop him from entering the room, and Tanjiro found you huddled into a ball in the corner, your body trembling with fear as Naho, Sumi, and Kiyo joined forces to shield you from the masked personnel employed in the Insect Hashira’s estate.

Tanjiro would find out later that a demon donning a mask that resembled a Kakushi’s was the cause for your torment. It had taken the pleasure of taking you and two other Demon Slayer captives, and made you watch - bound and helpless - as it controlled your colleagues, made them fight, and promised the victor their freedom, only to incapacitate them and slowly ate them alive.

The pleading, despaired cries of your colleagues would’ve driven you mad if it weren’t for the timely arrival of the Flame Hashira. Rengoku Kyojuro then took you back to the Butterfly Estate for treatment after decapitating the demon. You remembered him uttering a quiet apology for arriving a little too late to save your friends, and you couldn’t find the strength to tell him that no, it’s not your fault, Rengoku-san, it’s the demon’s--

Tanjiro was quick to come to your side when the three little nurses made a path for him. His heart just broke at the sight of your tear-filled eyes and the look of utter fear and helplessness in your face.

There is no ounce of hesitation in him when he gathered you in his arms for the warmest hug he could muster. Tanjiro could only hope that his presence would evoke a sense of tranquility and safety in your terror-filled mind.

He would carry you to your bed and sit by your side -- his hand in yours -- while he patiently and worriedly waited for you to calm down.

This boy wouldn’t make you relay the ordeal you had faced. Instead, he would talk about the good days, tell you how smitten he was when you first met and would remind you over and over that he loved you and that you were one of the strongest people he’d ever known.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel strong right now,” he would tell you, his own eyes misting with tears. “If you can’t right now, [Name], then please let me be your strength for now. Know that I love you and I will never get tired of helping you until you feel better. So, please! Take as much time as you need and I will always be here for you! I love you, [Name]!”

Demon Slayers didn’t get breaks but after a visit from Oyakata-sama himself, Tanjiro was given ample time off from work to help you recover. The head of the Demon Slayer Corps knew that they needed all the manpower they could get, but he would not turn away from one of his children who was in dire need of support after facing a traumatic incident.

Not only was Tanjiro patient and helpful during your recovery, he would also be very loving and supportive towards you.

He would be by your side immediately at the slightest scent of fear from you at the very beginnings of a nightmare, and he would hold your hand and gently run his fingers through your hair to help calm you down.

Tanjiro was helplessly tone-deaf, but that wouldn’t stop him from softly singing lullabies to you to help ease you back into a peaceful slumber.

This boy would not hesitate to give you forehead kisses every night before you sleep and every morning when you wake up!

He would find joy in serving you food and doing even the smallest things for you -- like combing your hair or wiping off the sweat from your forehead.

He would even go as far as to participating in your recovery training once the trauma finally left you (because of his love and effort!)

He might not be one of the powerful and talented Hashira, but Tanjiro would always be the only Pillar you would find strength in and lean to.

#kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba

[biotchthatmeows]

#tw #suicideawarness #triggering #depression #suicide #substanceabuse

Ah! So suicide awareness month eh. Well I don't know where to burst out exactly because people don't really care about it but ok let's try it here at good ol' Tumblr.

So, where I live we don't have any suicide helpline or any awareness programs or anything at all regarding mental health. I mean don't get me wrong we would adapt western media full fledge when it's Valentine's Day or some other ridiculous thing but no one wants to talk about suicide because it doesn't bring trp and people are already sad and I agree it's true.

But we gotta talk about suicide, man, come on. I am sorry but at least I think I should.

I have never really openly said it but I have given hints many times. But I am openly saying it that I suffer from very severe depression and anxiety plus Bipolar personality disorder. Which means I am either going through maniac episode or depressive episode almost everyday (you can Google them).

And yes, I have tried to kill myself multiple times. And turns out like most things in my life I am not really good at it. Since, I am writing this. Which is why whoever is reading this, I am taking your time (thanks btw).

I was always a little different since my childhood as compared to others. I liked being alone a lot and writing things instead of talking to a person. Because whenever I tried to make a friend I would do something wrong and they go away. So, at one point I stopped trying and I realized something that people around me dont really like me.

Even my teachers kind of didn't like me because I would just randomly ask the most peculiar questions. For example when we were reading *book spoiler* George Orwell's 1984, everyone in the class was worried for the hero when he was being tortured but I asked or told my teacher that 'okay so, his fear for the mouse was bigger than the love for the girl and it okay to betray her?' and everyone was like that was not the point. I am sorry, I got districted and I am sure most people wouldn't get the reference.

Anyway, my point is that I always had and have questions about things when people should keep their mouth shut. At least one shouldn't questioned these things.

But that is still the thing with me, when you or someone makes a prominent statement there should be a reason or at least an explanation behind it but I was called blasphemous for questioning them. And that was fine with me but calling me blasphemous didn't get you out of the position of not able to justify your statement.

So, throughout my life I was called many things, spoiled, brat, weird, drama queen, actress, attention seeker. I can go on and on.

I don't know about rest of the names but I am pretty sure I wasn't spoiled. My parents were never the type to hand over the money because you asked for it. They were kind of people who wouldn't even give you money even when you actually need and beg for it. They would give you the thing instead that you need the money for or you don't get it at all for example school picnics and events or the bag you really really wanted.

So, well when you don't get things. You eventually start doing bad things such lying a lot and stealing stuff. And it keeps growing and growing and even though deep down you know how wrong you are but then you don't know how to stop because you are getting things you want.

Okay, off the topic again. What I am trying to say that I was maybe lot of things that people said but I wasn't spoiled. I was physically abused and eventually realize mentally abused too. And things weren't really okay with me. I won't take it like most people do.

My brain wouldn't stop thinking about them and I was becoming more and more irrational as days goes by. And I was thinking what if I was dead and that would make things lot more easier for me and the people around me.

Eventually, that idea became more and more intense and growing around I always heard people say that if a person kills themself they would never be forgiven and it was the greatest sin ever.

But then those people would also say that not praying is the greatest sin and you won't be forgiven for that ever.

And then not believing in one God is also the biggest is of all sin and you won't be forgiven for that ever.

And then saying hurtful things to people is also the biggest sin and you won't forgiven until that person forgives you.

So, which one was the biggest sin? All of them? Because then those same people would say that God would forgive you for all your sins if you repent and because God is most forgiving. Even more forgiving then your own mother.

So, my curious brain once again started asking questions. For which again I was told that I shouldn't because it was wrong and blasphemy.

Meanwhile, my mental health was decling day after day but no one really noticed because in our society their is no such thing as mental health. Either you are crazy or lazy, hey that rhymes.

I was pretty much deemed both.

Mostly, lazy but then there is a solution for that in our society for as well. Get married! Tada! Because when you are married it fixes everything! And anything.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that I obviously despiced the marriage thing. Because I knew I couldn't do it.

Someone who can barely keep themself put together, cannot handle the responsibility of the marriage and of course I wasn't interested in anyone. I mean of course I had crushes and stuff but unlike most girls/women my age I never went as far as thinking about marriage all the time. Which was happening at that time all around me.

People were keen to get married or getting married.

And I don't know why people thought it's about time I should get married too and everytime the situation like that came along I would have the worst kind of panic attacks. I couldn't eat or drink or sleep and I had to fight and fight to make the situation go away.

But you can't win every time now, can you? Eventually, I was forced into getting engaged and I can't explain how horrible each second for me during that time was. But once got lucky enough get out of it and it was happiest day of entire life. Well just for me of course. Everyone around me was pretty bumped but I was selfish because I got out of it.

And the worst part of the whole thing that bugged me was that guy was honestly horrible. He called me fat and then his family came around to inspect me like a cattle because my family told them I wasn't fat. What a wonderful thing to your child. Really helped my self esteem.

He couldn't even spell aunty right. Yeah he wrote 'unty' and apparently his parents bragged he went and study in Australia. So, if Australians wrote aunty like that, then I suppose I was being a little judgy.

Anyhow, I was so relieved. It was like I could breathe again. But obviously it wasn't the end of it.

Things like that don't don't just end for people in our society. Situations like that kept happening and my parents was getting desperate at this point because duh! I was growing old and who would marry an old girl even when like they 10 years older her.

During the period of my engagement my mental health was at its worse and it was getting worse everyday. I was constantly having panic attacks and one day out pity I was finally taken to the doctor not a psychologist or psychiatrist but just a normal doctor.

Lucky for me that guy prescribed a magical pill which fixed everything, for a while and I loved it. The minute I would take that pill everything would become normal. I would even stopped caring about the engagement thing till that pill lasted.

I didn't know at first what it was but then I figured it out and I would go out buy shit ton of them because it fixed things for a while.

In short I was addicted to vallium and then I found out there are other pills like that such as Xanax and plenty of other and as long as I had money no one cared who they selling these pills too and it wasn't like I was buying them from some shady person. I was actually buying them from legit pharmaceutical shops.

So, whenever situations like those came around or at that any other point I faced problems I would take those pills but then I realized that eventually that they stopped working so I increased the doses for them to work and the doses increased and increased. At one point I was taking a box each day just for a moment of calm. And years went by and so did the amount of pills I was literally throwing my whole month of salary on them.

Then my family finally noticed that something was off because I never had money and I wasn't exactly

buying anything so where was the money going? Also I was sleeping a lot and starting to forget things which was pretty out character for me.

I was confronted and given an ultimatum. So, for a week or more I think I didn't take any pills but then I was taking them for years now and you are not supposed to suddenly stop them. But I didn't know that at that time.

And that was my first attempt to kill myself. But then things happen, bad things, and they kept happening and happening. Finally came a point where no one was to stop me from taking pills or trying to kill myself.

By then I had committed multiple attempts to kill myself. I was self harming long before that but after that it had gotten much worse. And my last attempt was this year but instead of dying I went into a seizure which lasted 48 hours and even after that I wasn't able move my tounge properly and certain part of my body for a month.

That was the first time I was scared of suicide. Because I was not able to do anything on my own. I bit tounge so hard that it bled and broke a teeth. It worse than dying.

I was finally taken to the hospital and a real psychiatrist who finally diagnosed me with my illness.

Yet still, some people think I make things up because I did them in the past but that shit was real and anyone who say I act crazy to get attention, then I swear to you that you wouldn't wish that condition on your worst enemy.

Talking about all this wasn't to let my heart out or anything. I just want to tell you and anyone who understands to realise that mental illness is very very real and it's a nightmare that doesn't go away. That only problem it is not visible like other diseases. It's just like having a cancer but imagine you can't see that cancer.

And being suicidal is not a joke, no one wants to end their lives on purpose. Everyone wants to live.

But just think for a moment from prespective of the person that their brain had been through enough that it thought that life is not worth living anymore. And if it's a sin then they are ready to go to hell because imagine life being worse than hell.

I know this is already a really long post but I needed to bring this up because recently I was having conversation with colleagues about what we should about suicide awareness month and I was like maybe make post to empathize with people who go through this horrible rough path but my colleagues suggested that they should put this religious script which says that anyone commits suicide will never be forgiven and will forever be in hell.

And this was coming from the person who doesn't pray at all. I was like what about you? I wasn't judging him. I was like so you won't go to hell and be there forever?

And he was like I will be forgiven but people who commits suicide they will not be. And he was so confident that he even said that you will see on the day of judgment that people who didn't pray will be eventually forgiven but there is no way for people who had committed suicide to be forgiven.

And I was like okay, wow! Because there is literally no point with arguing or trying to make people like them understand because they won't. And I know many, actually forget many but most people would agree with him. Because they don't even accept mental illness as illness at all and if you are sad/depressed you must not be praying or need to pray more.

But, I pray for those ignorants who make fun of mental illness and suicide and call it attention seekers or actors when it is desperate cry for help.

[two-simps-and-a-google-doc]

“The Most Dangerous Thing is to Love”

Oneshot?

Note: This is just a little fic before we get back into Tiny Galaxies :D The fic also has the entire lyrics of Achilles Come Down in it.

Genre: ANGST. Specifically Roman Angst

Ship: None

TW: Cursing, death, sympathetic Remus, falling, self-doubt/deprecation..??, crying

Let us know if we missed anything!

Word Count: 467

Roman sat in his room, his dull monochrome room, scrolling through an online library. Yes, it wasn’t something he would normally do, but he was bored out of his mind and wanted to try new things. However, even then, he was getting more bored than he was before. “Achilles, Achilles, Achilles…” he murmured to himself. Almost every good-seeming book always had to do with Achilles. It’s not that he didn’t like him, it’s just that he’d rather more...variety of the topics. He sighed and decided to go through Tumblr.

And then a thought struck him. It wasn’t a good thought, no, but it was a thought nonetheless. ‘What if you jumped off a cliff?’

He blinked and stopped scrolling, staring off into nothing. It sounded like such a...a Remus-esque thought, but he couldn’t help but imagine it. The wind rushing past him as the ground beneath him slowly crumbled from his weight. The faint but not silent screams of “come down!” before he would fall backwards.

He could imagine what they would do. What they would say to get him to stop. He remembered what they said the last time he had tried something like this. 

"Won't you get up off? Get up off the roof!"

They had stopped him. They had paid him more attention, made him feel listened to. 

Until they stopped. 

It had lasted for a month at most, then things went back to the way they were before. 

Before he almost took his final step. 

He remembered exactly what they said. After that month, it all seemed like lies. They were all lying to him, weren’t they? “You’re scaring us, and all of us...some of us love you!”

He felt so embarrassed that he even listened. That he believed them...those poisonous words that felt and sounded so warming. 

And they still were. They were the shreds of warmth he still held on to after all these years as cold and empty sounding words surrounded him. He missed those golden days when warmth and kindness was everywhere, in every corner, every crevice...but now they just seem so rare. And when they did occur, it was either for someone else or out of pity.

'Achilles. I'm their Achilles heel.'

Their words were ingrained into his mind. He had made the mistake to open up to them, giving them free ammunition to use against him. It was stupid. Stupid of him. 

But he was stupid, wasn't he?

He told them of his insecurities. Well...some of them. Others were...private. They reassured him, crushing his self-doubt with that one phrase.

"It's not much but there's proof."

He didn't know what that meant until now. He should have figured it out sooner, then all of this would have been solved earlier. Maybe it would have been fixed. Who was he kidding? He couldn't be fixed. 

Not now.

He knows what those words mean now. 'You crazy assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue.' 

And sure, he could..”forgive” them for these false words of encouragement. These- these blatant lies that he was too blind to see past. As Janus once said, “redemption lies plainly in truth.”

But at this point, what was true and what was fake? He couldn’t exactly use a lie detector, and he didn’t fully trust Janus yet. 

Years of lies and manipulation left him lost in the void of uncertainty. He couldn't trust anyone, not since last time. He hated their pity, their fake sympathy for him. Every time they would ask him what was wrong all he heard was 'just humor us'. None of it sounded real. None of it sounded...genuine.

'Achilles, Achilles, that's all I'll ever be. I'm just their Achilles.'

Again, he thought of those words they spoke. The ones that somehow got him off that roof.

'Come down, won't you? Get up off….get up off the roof.'

He curled up into a ball on his bed, the phrase echoing within his mind. “Achilles, Achilles, Achilles...Come down! Won’t you get up off? Get up off the roof..”

He covered his ears in a futile attempt to make the voices shut up. But it just kept repeating...and repeating...and REPEATING…

His nails dug into his scalp, drawing a bit of blood. He felt tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Oh. How lovely. He was so..pathetic that he was crying over a simple phrase. 

He was their Achilles’ heel, the point of weakness that shattered something much stronger. He was holding them back and it was all his fault. Maybe he shouldn’t have existed in the first place. If only the original creativity hadn’t split, then he wouldn’t even have a chance at being such a failure. He hated how they probably wanted him gone, how they only saved him in that moment just for pity. They hated him. He hated himself. Well..that’s one thing they’ll ever agree on, huh?

He had to do something. He had to get it over with. He uncurled himself, standing up on shaky feet. He sunk into the Imagination, not caring that he looked like shit at the time. 

He took a deep breath, taking in the slightly chilled air. He never liked the hot much, preferring the spring breezes and fall chill. He walked along the path. Normally, he would have taken his time; talking to the animals or helping out a nearby villager. 

But not this time. 

He walked swiftly, practically running to his destination. He arrived, the setting sun bursting fiery colors across his skin. It was as if he had bursted through an unbreakable wall, finally falling through to the other side. He felt peace, standing a few inches away from a three hundred foot drop. Nothing stood in his way.

Not this time.

He smiled, tears quietly rolling down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, turning around with his back facing the sun. He held his arms out to the side, ready for the fall.

'The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken.' 

That was something Remus had come to understand. It was somewhat philosophical, moreso for his taste but that didn't make it any less true.  

He was doodling in his notebook. Yes, he must admit, it was a rather mundane activity for him but today he just felt...off. He didn't feel as energetic, more...subdued. Which for Remus was really weird. He hasn't felt like this since…

Roman.

His eyes widened, body tensing up. He could still remember the determination and fear in his brother's eyes. And that...it scared him. No…

It terrified him. 

He quickly sunk into his brother's room, praying to every god out there that this was just a fluke, that Roman was silently listening to music or writing a script. He arrived to an empty room, the only thing out of the ordinary being the still-open computer on the bed. That only meant one thing.

He left in a hurry.

He raced down to the living room, again wishing that Roman was just late for movie night. He was greeted by four surprised and annoyed faces, attention stolen from his sudden entrance. Upon seeing the pure panic in his face, the others were intrigued, straightening (hah) up a little and putting their full attention on him.

"Remus, what's wrong," Janus asked, a calm panicked tone in his voice. Remus felt the emotions from his brother worsen. He took a step forward, stumbling a bit. 

"Ro...Roman. Have any of you seen Roman today?" he asked quietly, voice far off. They all said no, no one catching even a glimpse of the other creative side that day. Remus's stomach dropped, fear gripping his intestines. As he was about to say something else the emotions spiked, driving an invisible hammer into his chest. 

He gripped his chest, stumbling his way over to one of the chairs to steady himself. He was panting, out of breath from the pain. The others perked up, Logan and Janus coming closer to find out what was wrong.

"Re, what was that? What's happening?" Virgil asked quietly from the couch, eyeshadow now a sickening black.

"It's..it's Roman. We...we need to find him. Now," Remus said. He sunk down, entering the Imagination and running. He knew where his brother was, he could feel it. He ran through the trees, the faint footsteps of the others following behind him. He saw the setting sun through the trees.

Then he saw Roman.

He had his back to the sun, tears rolling down his cheeks and a sad smile on his face. His arms were outstretched, ready to fall. Remus scurried to a stop, not wanting to scare Roman. He approached calmly, having arrived quicker than the others who were still making their way through the woods. 

"Ro?" he asked quietly, trying not to startle his brother.

"Re? What are you doing here?" Roman replied calmly. He wasn't surprised by his brother's arrival, having felt him enter the realm. 

"Ro, please don't do this. I...I can't lose you. Not again," Remus tried, repeating those same words he said long ago.

"I have to do this, Re," he said, determined. He had opened his eyes and dropped his hands, attention fully on Remus. 

"...remember the pact of our youth?" Remus asked quietly, eyes dull and distant.

"Where you go, I'm going. How could I forget?" Roman recited. He had a fond look on his face, remembering the time he and his brother had made the particular pact. 

"I figured you wouldn't have. Listen Ro, you don't have to do this. You know you don't. It was that little brain of yours wasn't it? They can be deceiving little devils, I know. It's telling you to throw it away, to get rid of yourself so the rest of us can start over. It's not true. You need to know that it's not true. Where you go, I'm going Ro. So jump and I'm jumping, since there's no me without you," he said, taking a step forward, trying to get closer to Roman in order to bring him off the ledge. 

Roman would’ve stepped away if he weren’t on the edge of a cliff. 

“..Maybe just this once, you could ‘break’ the pact. You have a life ahead of you, Re,” He muttered, a sad look on his face.

“And so do you! I wouldn’t ever break our pact, not even if I was offered 1000 deodorant sticks for it!” Remus replied, a little smile on his face. Roman laughed, but it died quite quickly before being replaced with a sigh. 

“Soldier on, Achilles,” Remus started before Roman continued the saying that seemed to have worn oh-so thin.

“Achilles, come down. Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?”

The fire in Roman’s eyes seemed to dim at the saying. It sounded like a go-to thing to say just to get him down, as if it really meant nothing. They were just words floating around in the air with no meaning. He realized that now. And even though he trusted Remus so much...he feared that those words had no meaning as well. His hands curled into fists.

“..Loathe the way they light candles in Rome,” he muttered. Everyone hated him. That was just the truth. Really, the only truth that he’d ever known, since he’s already realized that everything he’s been told was a lie. 

“But love the sweet air of the votives,” Remus whispered, slowly reaching out to Roman. In response, Roman slightly narrowed his eyes at Remus. 

“Hurt and grieve, but don’t suffer alone...Engage with the pain as a motive,” he continued. He barely acknowledged how…’out of character’ he was being. He didn’t put this much effort in...in motivating someone. But this was Roman he was talking to. His brother, his best friend ever since the Split. He’d felt so scared when Roman tried to jump last time, but right now he felt a bit..numb. Maybe in a good way, he didn’t know.

He couldn’t afford to lose Roman then, and he can’t afford to lose him now.

Roman didn't know why he felt like this. It was just a normal Tuesday, nothing was special and nothing had happened. It was a normal day, a normal morning. So why did he feel like this?

'Why? Today of all days, why do I feel like this?' he thought. 

He knew Remus would try to come with him. It was in his nature. He huffed a laugh void of humor. Remus cocked his head in confusion.

"See how the most dangerous thing is to love? You'll try to come with me, won't you? You'll give up your life for me. Because of love. Why? Why would you throw your life away for me? " Roman questioned. 

"Because, Roman, I love you, you idiot. You're my brother, I couldn't live without you if I tried," Remus answered, taking a small step forward that didn't go unnoticed by Roman.

"You'll get over me, Remus. You all will. I'm forgettable, unimportant. You'll be back to normal in a month at most. You're better off without me. Don't you know how much better off you are without me? How I won't even matter after a week? How you will heal and you'll rise above all that you are now? You don't need me. You're the better creativity," Roman confessed, eyes tearing up once more. Remus looked shocked, not knowing the true extent of his feelings until now. 

'Achilles, Achilles, Achilles. I'll always be their Achilles.'

"Do you know what my brain is telling me right now? Jump now. You are absent of cause or excuse. So self-indulgent and self-referential, no audience could ever want you. You crave the applause, yet hate the attention. Then miss it. Your act is a ruse. It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now. It's a pointless resistance for you," he practically ranted, getting angrier at every word. He took a few steps towards Remus, tears now flowing down his face. 

Remus was speechless, ironic for his character. He didn't know Roman felt that way. He had thoughts like that often but he learned to deal with them. Sometimes in an unprofessional way.

He could have helped. He would have helped. He would have been there for Roman every step of the way. 

If only he'd known.

But maybe...he should’ve known already. He remembered the last time Roman tried to jump, every single detail. Maybe if he’d examined a bit more, if he’d paid more attention. Then he could’ve stopped this from even happening.

“Achilles, Achilles! Just- put down the bottle...Don’t listen to what you’ve consumed” He remembered someone saying. He remembered Roman with a whiskey bottle in his hand, swaying a little bit on the rooftop. He looked so disheveled, so different, so...sad. It wasn’t like the Roman that Remus knew. It was obvious that something was bothering Roman but he didn’t even bother to help, did he? This was his fault. It’s his fault that Roman was trying to jump, it’s his fault that-

No. No it’s not his fault. Really, if he was gonna get deep with this, it’s nobody’s fault. At least he didn’t think so.

“Look, I- your thoughts..it’s chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy of feeding, and it’s wholly untrue. I have those same thoughts, I can HELP you, Ro! All you need to do is get away from the cliff, alright? You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing, it’s all just conjecture and gloom,” he said softly, trying not to aggravate his brother. Roman stared at him with an emotion he couldn’t figure out, but he didn’t seem to be angry at him. It looked like he was listening.. He decided to go for a casual approach to ease up the tension a little bit.

“And there may not be meaning,” He shrugged. “So find one and seize it. Please, do not waste yourself on this roof.”

Roman laughed, albeit a bit sadly, “This isn’t even a roof, Remus.” Remus sputtered, “I knOW THAT!! It’s the thought that counts, not the WORDS.”

His brother laughed even more at that, leading Remus to laugh along as well.

For a second it seemed like everything was back to normal, that today they were just taking a walk in the woods and Remus had told a joke to make the other laugh. But that second was quickly gone as the laughter died down. 

"See? I can help you, Ro. Can you hear those bells ring deep in the soul, chiming away for a moment?  Feel your breath course frankly below. I can help you see life as a worthy opponent. Please, just- let me help," Remus pleaded, a smile on his face. Roman's face slowly fell, looking down at the ground sadly. 

"I...you can't help me, Remus. I don't think anyone can at this point. Especially not today of all days," he confessed.

“See, how-” Remus started. He knew that there was some way to help Roman, some way to make things better. But he realized that’s just what he wanted to believe, not what was true. 

“...the most dangerous thing is to love,” Roman finished, kicking the ground beneath him lightly.

Remus blinked a few times before giving a breathy laugh. Well, that wasn’t what he was actually going to say. “How you will heal and you’ll rise above,” He corrected, half-heartedly trying to keep up the illusion that things were back to normal. It was so very hard to accept that it wasn’t and that it might not ever will be.

“Crowned by an overture bold and beyond. It’s more courageous to overcome,” Remus concluded, leaning back slightly. He felt a bit...awkward? Since this was such an important situation and he was trying to play it off nonchalantly.

Neither of them noticed the four others approaching through the trees, aggravated and tired. They had gotten lost after Remus ran off, not knowing the Imagination as well as the two brothers did. It had taken them far too long to find the brothers but thankfully, they weren't too late. Or...at least they didn't think so.

Roman noticed the figures approaching, taking a step back towards the cliff and erasing any progress Remus had made with his brother. Remus sighed and turned around, seeing the four others with relief in their faces. They didn't know. They had no clue that finding them was the least of their problems. 

Patton fought the urge to run up and hug Roman, Logan wanted to know what he did wrong, Virgil wanted this to be over, and Janus...he felt guilty. They had no clue Roman felt like this. They didn't even know that it was their fault. 

"Oh thank god! Kiddo are you okay?" Patton asked Roman, relief on his face. He started to walk towards Roman, only for the latter to move his foot backwards towards the cliff edge. Patton stopped, holding his hands out in surrender, and took a step back. 

As soon as the four had stepped through the trees Roman was frozen. All thoughts that begged him not to do this were whisked away, leaving only pure panic and fear in their place. His eyes were wide and his body was tense.  His mind blocked out their words, their voices coming out muffled and distant. He tried to focus on their voices but he couldn't, only the ones in his head were loud enough to hear. 

They filled the muffled silence in his ears, the words having been spoken to him by the others in the past. 

"You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers."

"You want it all, don't you?"

The voices took the tone of the four sides, fully convincing Roman that they were saying them at that moment. His eyes were unfocused, only the faint feeling of someone to his right was present. He heard a voice cut through the other's.

"It's not worth it, Achilles."

No, no it is worth it. The other voices started up again.

"More poignant than fame or the taste of another."

"Don't listen, Achilles," the voice cut in again.

"But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker."

"You're worth more, Achilles," it cut in again.

"You will not be more than a rat in the gutter."

"You're so much more than a rat."

"You want my opinion?"

"No one asked your opinion."

"My opinion you've got. You asked for my counsel?"

"No one asked for your thoughts."

"I gave you my thoughts."

"Be done with this now and jump off the roof."

That broke him out of his trance. No one had said that to him, not to his knowledge at least. If that didn't happen then that means…

Neither did anything else they had said so far.

"Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you." 

He looked over to the figure on his right, the worried face of his brother looking back at him. He had been the one to drown out the voices, the one to break through the barrier in Romans mind. So far, he was the only one that could. And that included Roman.

“I’m talking to you, can you hear me? I’m talking to you,” Remus asked, snapping his fingers in front of Roman. “Did you hear what I said?” “U-Uhm...you said ‘I’m talking to you’. Th..That’s what I was supposed to say, right?” Roman responded, hoping he hadn’t answered wrong or heard the question incorrectly.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Achilles, come down…” Remus nodded, gently taking Roman’s hand and guiding him away from the cliff. The voices of the others were faint, but Roman could still make out the familiar phrase of ‘Achilles, come down’.

He hated the nickname, really. He didn’t need to be reminded how much of a...liability he was to the others. He didn’t WANT to be their weakness, the cause of their eventual downfall. He wanted to be gone and he knew the others wanted that too. Maybe not Remus, but everyone else. They hated him. He should’ve jumped right then and there. Maybe he could still do it now. Jump off the cliff and don’t look up, so he didn’t see their smiles of relief. Jump off right now and realize they won’t move to save him. Jump off. Jump off. JUMP OFF-

“You wanna know something cool about being called Achilles?” Remus asked, seemingly reading Roman’s thoughts.

“H-Huh?”

“Achilles was a hero, y’know? People know him for being the greatest of all the Greek warriors that ever existed. It sounds like such an honor to be called that, even once. The fact that you’ve basically claimed the nickname Achilles is just- so amazing...and I think you’re like him in a lot of ways. Courageous, brave, all that good shit. People also think he was gay with Patroclus and like- you’re pretty gay too, so-” 

Roman snorted, “Really? You think so..?” “Depends on which part you’re talking about. I think you’re cool, but everyone KNOWS you’re gay as fuck, Ro.”

“Yeah, okay!”

Everything was normal. They were back to normal, everything was gonna be okay, they were all okay-

‘What if he was just saying that to distract you from the fact that the others probably don’t mean anything they say?’

Roman suddenly stopped, accidentally diving back into that trance of his. He could barely hear Remus say his name.

‘Throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant’

His eyes widened slightly. His own mind was telling himself to jump..again. But it sounded so...mystical, so heroic. If it sounded as such, then maybe he should do it..? What if it made him a hero? The ones who had legends told of, the ones who had statues and places named after them. He could be a hero. He could finally be anything but a failure. He’d be what he always wanted to. 

And nobody would hate him anymore..

'Clothe yourself in beauty untold and see life as a means to a triumph'

Because that's all life was, wasn't it? It's about winning, being the best you can be. You have to win to win at life. You have to win to survive. 

Roman had learned that the hard way. 

He was pulled out of his mind by the others, who had been trying to get Romans attention for quite some time now. He looked to them, eyes distant and cloudy. He looked nothing like the eloquent prince he pretended to be. He was now truly Roman. To the others, it was terrifying. 

"...today of all days," he said quietly. The others paused, Remus tensing beside him.

"Wha-what? Roman, what does that mean?" Virgil asked, panicked. 

“...See..” He continued, ignoring Virgil’s question.

  Suddenly, he turned around and started running for the cliff, blocking out the others’ shouts for him to stop. He turned around at the last moment and fell back with his arms out. It...felt as beautiful as he thought it would be. The wind rushing past, flowing through his hair and clothes. He could feel his heart beat loudly, as if it would suddenly explode. This would be it. The finale, the ending. He closed his eyes, both ready and unprepared to hit the ground. 

What he didn’t expect was a pair of arms wrapping around him. Wait...was he still falling? He opened his eyes in surprise. The wind was still there..

“How..the most dangerous thing is to love,” he heard a familiar voice say. He blinked and realized Remus had jumped with him, hugging as they fell to their eventual death. “I wasn’t lying,” Remus whispered. 

Roman wrapped his arms around his brother tightly, tears falling from his eyes. Or..more like floated upward.

“How you will heal and you’ll rise above,” Remus whispered again, but more sadly. He tried putting on his usual, manic grin, but it seemed so out of place...so unnatural. It was fine, though. It was all that Roman needed in this moment. He smiled back, realizing Remus was crying as well. 

“Crowned by an overture bold and beyond,” Roman said softly, hiccupping in between his words. 

“...It’s more courageous to overcome,” They said in unison, holding each other tightly. They wouldn’t let go, not even for a second. It was scary but..calming at the same time. In fact, it was more..confusing. But that was okay. They had each other. And that would be okay. The last thing either of them saw was the other’s face, streams of warm sunlight across their faces.

“I love you” “I love you too”

There was a quiet and distant cracking noise. Nobody dared to look over that cliff, in fear of what they would see. Patton covered his mouth with his hand as he sobbed, collapsing to his knees. Virgil went to comfort Patton, but sobbing as well. Janus sighed sadly and wondered what he could’ve done differently to avoid this. The pain and sorrow would hit him later. Logan stood frozen where he was. He couldn’t comprehend all of this at once, not when two of his friends just DIED. He was pulled into a state of denial. Surely….surely they couldn’t be dead. Sides couldn’t die, right?

Right?

Words hurt, but sometimes, just silence hurt more. It dawned on them, how much they lost. What they’ll never get back. The realization that nothing would ever be the same. There would be no banter, no Disney songs late at night. There would be no dirty jokes at lunch, and while that might have been disturbing, it made things feel normal. And it was all gone. 

If only Roman had known that he had already been a hero. He’d been their hero.

~ End ~

#tw cursing #tw death #tw crying #tw self blame #tw self loathing #tw self deprecation #tw self doubt #sympathetic remus #do not tag as r*mr*m #platonic creativitwins #creativitwins #remus sanders #roman sanders #remus #roman #ts remus #ts roman #ts remus sanders #ts roman sanders #logan sanders mention #patton sanders mention #virgil sanders mention #janus sanders mention #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #creativitwins fanfic #creativitwins fanfiction

[visceryl]

Age of Corruption - D&D

Here’s a little short story based on a Dungeons and Dragons campaign our group runs. I absolutely adore this group with all of my being. Liam belongs to @angrynar. Elijah belongs to @kas-voton. Safin belongs to @noceurro. Benny belongs to @zuulosdovah. Fennorin belongs to me. Sar belongs to someone off of tumblr!

--------------------------

“Excuse me?”

Fennorin’s voice rang out in cold shock as white wisps of hair coated red from battle hung down in his face. His chest heaved, the fists locked around his longsword trembling with effort. 

He watched the lanky boy of sickly pale skin hover over a drow. Liam sported a grin sharp and wicked enough to make a heart jump twice in shock, then recoil of fear. A spell buzzed upon his fingertips, the will of the weave tainted black with necrotic misuse. It raised the drow’s veins to the surface of his skin, crowding them with boiling agony. 

The captive yelled out in his mother tongue. A rough, deep language that turned to the sad wails of a creature mourning its emintent fate. The open cavern of the Underdark did little to dampen the echoes of his begs. 

“He deserves to die!” Liam barked back. “They all deserve to die!”

Even Elijah shifted nervously behind the servitor. A fresh ooze of blood filled the spaces between his fingers as they pressed between the loops of his armor where a blade had embedded in flesh. 

“No, Liam!” 

The servitor of Corellon staggered forward a step, his foot dragging over bones that littered the floor. Skulls, ribs, fibias, tibias. From wicked beasts that hunted the unofficial layer escaped from hell to surface dwelling races dragged to the belly of its depths. He stumbled, letting his sword crumble from his hands.

Steel on stone pierced the tension with a resounding clatter.

“This isn’t you! This isn’t what Kainan would have wanted!” 

Liam’s lips curled upon the holy worshipper’s approach. He hated him. He hated the elf that made his insides boil simply by being around him. He hated the way Fennorin always put himself in the way of his nature, parading himself around like a saint when he’d done no better a time or two. 

He wasn’t holy. He put Kainan in the ground and would do the same for anyone here, but not Liam. Death didn’t have to be the final line. He knew how to bring them back even if it wasn’t the same. His fingers curled tighter into the drow’s hair, wrenching his head back to look upwards into his own hellish gaze. 

“You’re wrong. I’ve always been this.”

“I know that’s not true. I don’t care what’s in your blood, Liam. You will always be my family, and I will not let you do this alone. We will get you through this together, whatever those fanatics say, they’re wrong!”

Fennorin was close now. Close enough to reach out for the mage. 

For a moment, Liam’s grip on the drow sagged, letting his head turn back to the floor. He leveled his gaze on Fennorin, jaw clenched so tight it jumped with strain. No one said anything. No one even moved.

The battle had nearly wiped everyone out. Elijah, hanging at sanity’s edge as he waited for any chance to step in if needed. Safin on the ground with Benny’s head in her lap as she eases the bleeding from a nasty wound. Sar pulling on his ears and cursing Allustan for dragging him into a mission he was too faint of heart for. They were all so tired.

Liam skimmed his gaze over them with wavering resolve. He’s wrong. He lies. He just wants to get you to turn yourself over so he can finish you. The voice lingered maliciously in the back of his head. Hostile and full of blinding rage. His fingers twitched in the drow’s hair, the spell held at ready surging wildly once more. 

“Please,” Fennorin begged, his voice softer. The pale skinned elf reached a bloody hand out for his friend to take.

Not this time.

Jet black fogged over Liam’s eyes and the drow dropped discarded to the floor. His own hand leapt up, latching to the servitor’s and the spell released. It shattered through the elf’s defenses. 

A scream lit up the silent cavern as visions of hell warped and tore at Fennorin’s mind. Liam held fast. His dark energy challenged the divine glow rooted at his friend’s core, watching veins of black crawl up Fennorin’s arm, corrupting. 

The elf’s footing quickly caved and a skull splintered beneath him as his knees crashed to the ground. Blood began to soak through his trousers around the area, but the pain went unrecognized up against Liam’s influence.

Elijah fumbled for his blade in a panic. Fingers slipped slick over the pommel before pausing in hesitation. Could he truly raise his sword up against his friend? No. For all the fear coiling tight in his stomach, he knew the blade would never pierce Liam’s skin. But he held it aloft, leveling the mage threateningly. 

“Let him go, Liam! You don’t want to do this!”

Black eyes flicked mindlessly to the large boy. “Except I do.”

He released Fennorin with a shove far beyond his own strength. Like a god swiping down on an ant, the elf was sent crashing back into Elijah, narrowly avoiding the sharp end of the raised blade. 

It was immediately dropped for strong arms to coil around Fennorin. Elijah staggered back, brandishing the weight as the elf struggled to find his footing. He could feel the heavy breaths rattling in Fennorin’s chest, the shivers of mental exhaustion trembling in every muscle.

Liam didn’t wait to level another spell at them. His fingertips curved into wicked claws, his teeth elongated and carnivorously sharp. Rivulets of blood clung to his lower lip and whitened teeth from shredding through the inside of his own cheeks. The spell cracked like a whip, a jet of ebon darkness striking the both. 

Kill them. You don’t need them. 

He watched as Elijah’s grasp on Fennorin loosened. A gasp parted the brunette’s lips, his body arching in a twist of anguish. Both were back on their knees in an instant. Fennorin’s weight rocked onto his forearms as they brandished upon the cold ground. An awful choking strangled in his lungs, strings of blood pooling his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

“That’s enough,” Safin finally declared. She eased Benny from her lap, her palm facing outwards to Liam as a small wooden splinter began to enlarge at the center.

“Don’t.”

Fennorin’s voice scraped out raw, his shoulders shaking. He rose from his curled position like a ghoul from the ground, pallid features turning up to Liam. “It’s not him, Safin. Please don’t hurt him.”

Safin’s gaze flicked between the two wearily. There was the slightest hint of hesitation as if a consideration of ending it had been taken. But she trusted their healer. Fennorin wasn’t perfect. He was stubborn and sometimes blinded by his own faith, but he always got them through everything.

She grimaced and lowered her hand.

Liam’s lips parted in a toothy grin that spanned ear to ear and while her’s lowered, his raised. Another flare of magic readied to smite down the servitor. He stepped past Elijah who lay unseeing, invisible nightmares plaguing his waking mind.

His footsteps stopped in front of Fennorin, an air of disgust wrinkling his nose. The mage knelt down to level them both, the hand flaring with mana coming to rest gentle upon the elf’s cheek. “You should have let her,” he whispered. “This is me now, Fen. Accept it.”

The hand scalded at Fennorin’s cheek. He forced his gaze to remain on Liam’s, his own hand fumbling within his robes to latch onto something solid hung at his neck. 

“I can’t accept that.” 

Liam’s features contorted into an angry snarl. His hand burned hotter on the elf’s cheek, near branding him with necrotic energy. “Why not!?”

Tears surfaced in Fennorin’s eyes like he’d already accepted he could very well die here trying to save Liam’s soul. A sob strangled in his chest. He tore the silver chain from around his neck and feebly lofted his holy symbol up.

It was met with the psychotic laughter of a devil. 

“That won’t work on me, Fennorin. I’m still very much alive.”

“That’s not what it’s for,” Fennorin presses. The salt of tears mixes with the taste of metal heavy on his tongue. His cheek leaned towards Liam’s touch and he managed to grab hold of his other hand, forcing the holy symbol of Corellon into his grasp. “Whatever is in your head, it’s not your god, Liam. Real gods don’t ask their followers to change who they are for them. You have not been abandoned.”

Liam curled his fingers around the symbol carved of pure silver, threatening to bend it in his iron grip. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

Something twisted in Liam’s chest as he stared down his friend. How did he answer with such certainty even facing death itself? How did he just sit there and take it? He was the Spawn of Bhaal. A visage of true evil to spread death and destruction in the wake of his angered and forgotten god while Fennorin was a visage of true good. A healer to uphold the light even in crippling darkness. They couldn’t have been further opposites. Why did he care?

“I’m not lying, Liam. The dark gods are cruel. They’re devils disguised as holy beings, and all we can do is endure them, but I promise you, the real gods would never abandon you. You’re no elf. You’re no healer or student of the arts. But Corellon loves you. He loves you because I love you and every night I pray to him to save you! I pray for him to protect you from the devil infested blood running through your veins because blood is not a defining quality! It is a building block of life that gives you the sentience to be your own person. And the person you are is one of my best friends. For that… you will never be abandoned. Corellon will protect you even long after I’m dead.”

“Shut up!” 

Liam’s voice raised in an angry roar, his hand lifting from Fennorin’s cheek only to connect again in a vicious slap that tore claws across his cheek. 

The elf yelped out, his head snapping to the side as skin split beneath the force. It almost burned as much as the magic had. “I will always love you,” he repeated, the words forced through tears.

Another slap.

Then a fist. It sailed into Fennorin’s gut.

Liam couldn’t think. The anger that boiled inside him shifted gears to someone else. That voice. The lingering catalyst to his demise. A noise tore from his chest, sounding of a wounded animal in the night. 

His body shuddered before giving out. He collapsed against Fennorin as the black faded, returning the whites of his eyes and the subtle stormy blue of irises. The holy symbol remained clutched in his grasp as sobs overtook him. He pressed himself closer to the warm glow of the servitor who’s fresh wounds left him complacent against the boy.

“I’m sorry,” he finally gasped. “I’m sorry, i’m so sorry.”

Fennorin swallowed the rock lodged in his throat, releasing a breath that shook his entire being. Arms worked around Liam with an exhausted squeeze, swathing him in an embrace. He pushed his face down to the mage’s shoulder.

The magic holding Elijah released as Liam lost himself in clinging to his friend. 

“I forgive you.” The words that tumbled from the elf wrenched another sob free from Liam and fingers twisted into robes. Desperate. “We’re going to fix this. I’m not going to abandon you. Ever.”

The two held each other fiercely, Fennorin soothingly stroking Liam’s hair until finally the sobs faded and breaths evened out. Sleep took the mage like a silent lover in the night, coaxed by the warmth of his friend.

#D&D #dungeons and dragons #dnd #writing #short story #liam ravenloft #elijah smenk #fennorin #safin #sar #benny morow #age of worms

[particularemu]

Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 4

Part: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]

Word Count: 6917

Type: ANGST, FLUFF

Warnings: blood, murder, physical violence, drugs, depression, anxiety, insanity, and there’s an intense anger spell

Tag List: @alightiny​ @cheonsali​ @joojoosiwa (fuck tumblr doesn’t like me tagging you bby)

Author’s Note: Fucking hell this chapter is long. Sorry, it took so long folks! This is such a dark series and I really have to be in the right headspace to bust out a chapter. 

Thanks to @jisungsjheekies​ for looking this over and hyping me up so I can finish this shit. 

“What did you do?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you attempted to crawl toward Hyunjin. He didn’t think you actually killed the man, did he? Your head lolled to the side, noticing the shard of glass in your hands. Tears ran down your cheeks as you spotted your mother’s music box, shattered on the floor. You were terrified. 

Hyunjin pulled you into his arms, noticing how limp your body was. His heart dropped when he felt your body shake ever-so-slightly in his grasp. This wasn’t your fault. “Oh my God sweetheart.” Hyunjin shivered in fear. “It’s okay. We’re gonna figure this out.” 

“I didn’t do it.” Your words sounded slurred and jumbled, but Hyunjin seemed to understand what you were trying to tell him. 

“I know sweetheart.” Hyunjin held you tight to his chest, hand rubbing your back to soothe you. The last thing he wanted was his fear to lead you into a panic attack. “I know.” 

Hyunjin’s mind was racing a million miles a minute. Did you do it? Of course, you didn’t. From what he’s seen, you wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone kill a man. How on earth was he going to prove your innocence? Who did this? Why would they want to frame you? What’s going to happen to you? Should he try and hide the body and clean up the mess before anyone notices? How do you even go about doing that?

Hyunjin mentally cursed his lack of interest in crime shows. Maybe that would have given him some ideas on how to get away with murder. 

Your quiet whimper shook Hyunjin out of his thoughts. He rested his thumb on your neck, lips moving quickly as he counted your heart rate. 

“Oh my God!” 

Hyunjin’s heart dropped in his stomach when he heard a man cry out in fear.  He could feel your heart beat a mile a minute underneath his fingertips. 

Of course… Of course, this had to happen right now. By the look of it, the frightened man was a caretaker at the asylum. Perhaps Hyunjin could convince the boy to look the other way? 

“She fucking killed him.” The brunette pulled out a phone. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Hyunjin glared daggers at the man, making him stop his movements. “You don’t even know what happened.” 

“You do?” The man scoffed. “Look at her! She’s holding the murder weapon.” 

Well yes… that looked REALLY bad.

Hyunjin’s eyes scanned the body, pausing to inspect each and every stab wound that littered his chest. There was no way a shard of glass that large would create such small wounds… Not to mention that the force of the glass against your skin would have left severe gashes in your hands. Judging by your unbroken skin, your drugged state, and the obvious knife wounds in the man’s body, there was no way you could have killed the man. 

Hyunjin felt his heart drop when his eyes rested upon your mother’s music box, completely shattered on the floor. Small, colorful glass pieces glistened in the moonlight. Wait a second… Did they break the music box, hoping to prove you guilty? It makes sense. If you broke your own music box, took a shard of glass, and killed a man, the hospital could get rid of you easily. The large shard of glass that rested in your hands was far too large to have been from the music box. 

Why on earth would someone want to do this to you? You were nothing but a calm, collected patient looking to regain her memories. Hyunjin couldn’t imagine you getting on someone’s bad side. You were far too sweet. 

Then again… He does have a bit of a crush on you… So perhaps he’s biased. 

Still — it would be unusual for a caretaker to handle another doctor’s patient. So he wasn’t sure how you could have gotten on someone’s bad side. 

Hyunjin paled, eyes widening as he recalled the events over the past few weeks. Since he arrived at the Rosewood Psychiatric Institution, he’s questioned the medication and treatments, refused to give you your medication, and pissed off the lead doctor’s right-hand man. Could someone be trying to get back at him?

That would do it. 

Anyone could see how much Hyunjin adored you. The boy never left your side. He’d do anything to make sure you were safe and taken care of — even if it meant soiling his somewhat mediocre reputation at the asylum. 

“She’s being set up,” Hyunjin mumbled, the words tumbling out of his lips before he could stop them. He really shouldn’t be saying stuff like this out loud, but… he was positive it was the truth. You were being set up. There was no way you killed that man. 

“What makes you think that Dr. Hyunjin?” Dr. Douglas’s voice startled Hyunjin out of his trance. 

The brunette standing in the corner seemed happy. “Dr. Douglas, you’re here! What are we going to do with her sir?”

Shut the fuck up you pretty son of a bitch.

“Look at her sir.” Hyunjin glanced down at you, noticing your far-off look. You were completely out of it. “She can’t get up, the shard of glass doesn’t match the stab wounds…” Hyunjin trailed off, trying to think. He had to use the right words or you were going to be taken away from him. “That glass would have cut her hands if she did it. She’s completely out of it sir, there’s no —”

Dr. Douglas cleared his throat. “Son,” 

Pure rage filled Hyunjin’s mind as he lashed out. “I’m not your son!” Hyunjin’s eyes were filled with pure hatred as he pulled your body closer to his chest. He had to protect you. He couldn’t let you go. He couldn’t let them take you from him. “I don’t understand why you aren’t at least interested in investigating this. What kind of doctor are you?” 

“One that cares about his patients.” Dr. Douglas glared at Hyunjin, voice matching his in volume. “This isn’t the first time she’s killed Dr. Hyunjin. I suggest you get your facts straight before jumping to conclusions.” 

Your eyes snapped to Hyunjin, regaining enough control over your body to grasp onto the thin fabric of his uniform. You’ve never killed a man… You’d remember that kind thing… right?

“That’s not true…” Hyunjin trailed off. It couldn’t be… Hyunjin looked into your eyes, heart breaking when he saw the genuine fear etched in your features. You were terrified. “She doesn’t have it in her.” 

“I don’t know what kind of lies she has you believing.” Dr. Douglas chuckled. “You’ve been here three months Hyunjin. You may have a couple of degrees hanging over your shoulder, but you don’t know everything.” Dr. Douglas turned to the brunette in the room. “Asher, go get Changbin.” 

So the bastard’s name was Asher...

Asher nodded, an evil smirk gracing his lips as he left the room. “Yes, sir.” 

God, that fucker was just waiting to get you in trouble. 

“Sir, you have to listen to me.” Hyunjin’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your shoulder, trying to comfort you despite the fact that you were, most likely, headed to the serial killer side of the asylum. “She’s not like that. I don’t know who did this, but I know it wasn’t her.” 

“Hyunjin, watch it.” Dr. Douglas cut him off. “I won’t hesitate to fire you if you keep acting up.” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but scoff. What is he a three-year-old? “I’m just concerned about my patient.” 

“We all are.” Dr. Douglas sighed. “We’re doing what’s best for her.” 

Yeah right…

Hyunjin felt his heart pang in his chest when Changbin ran into the room, eyes immediately scanning the bedroom for any threats. His eyes softened when they rested on you and Hyunjin. 

“Changbin, take her to one of the padded rooms until we can have a doctor meet with her.” Dr. Douglas crossed his arms over his chest, eyes practically daring Hyunjin to retort. 

Which he did~ 

“I’m a doctor. Why can’t I check her?” Hyunjin’s hateful eyes met Dr. Douglas’s annoyed stare. 

“You’re too close with the patient.” He sighed. 

“Then have Minho check her over.” Hyunjin glared, “Or Chan.” 

Dr. Douglas rolled his eyes, cutting off the conversation completely as he gave the command. “Take her away Changbin.” 

Changbin looked defeated. Hyunjin could tell he wanted to help, but his hands were tied. “Yes, sir.” Changbin kneeled down next to Hyunjin. “Sorry bud, I have to take her.” 

“No.” Hyunjin pulled you closer to his chest, praying that his iron grip could keep you in his arms. He didn’t want you to go. He was afraid of what would happen to you without his protection. “I’m going to protect her with all I’ve got.” Hyunjin clenched his eyes shut, begging his tears to go away. He couldn’t show weakness… not now. 

Changbin leaned in closer, whispering so no one else could hear, “You and I both know I’ll win this fight. I’m on your side.” Changbin gave him a look — one that was begging him to just go along with this, to let him take you away. Despite his heart telling him to hold you close, Hyunjin reluctantly let you go, allowing the older boy to lift you up effortlessly. 

Hyunjin noticed the look of betrayal in your eyes as you attempted to get out of Changbin’s grasp, body shaking and thrashing as much as you could in your drugged state. Tears ran down your face as you called out to him, your feeble cries shattering Hyunjin’s already broken heart. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he ran after Changbin. “Please just let me take her!” 

“Get out of here Hyunjin,” Changbin shouted over his shoulder. “You don’t want to see this.” 

“No,” Hyunjin ran as quick as he could, long legs allowing him to catch up to Changbin’s stride. He stood in front of Changbin, blocking the shorter man’s path with his body. “Please, she trusts me, just —” 

Hyunjin gasped as you slipped out of Changbin’s grasp, body falling to the floor with a loud thud. With what little strength you had, you pulled yourself over to Hyunjin, shaky hands grabbing his pant leg. “Please.” You sobbed. “Please don’t let them take me.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Hyunjin kneeled down, fingertips brushing the hair out of your face. That was it — the breaking point for him. After months of being in this shitty asylum, taking care of such a sweet girl, having doctors sabotage your recovery, he finally broke down. Hyunjin fell to his knees and pulled you to his chest, tears rolling down his face as he begged whatever Gods were above to keep you safe. He knew there was nothing he could do — he knew that you were most likely going to be tortured, abused, and drugged beyond all reason, and yet he knew he had to let you go. For your ultimate safety, he had to let Changbin take you away. 

“Hyunjin…” Changbin trailed off, resting his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Let her go.” 

“No.” Hyunjin sobbed. He felt like a toddler. Frankly… he was acting like one, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen to you. 

“Hyunjin —” 

“Let me.” Minho stepped forward, grabbing Hyunjin underneath the armpits and pulling him away from you. That very moment, Changbin pulled you out of his arms, quickly lifting you up and carrying you down the hallway before Hyunjin could stop him. Hyunjin thrashed around in Minho’s grip, crying out for you as you disappeared from his sight. 

As soon as Minho let him go, Hyunjin turned around and smacked Minho’s chest with such force, the older boy tumbled back into the wall behind him. “Why did you do that?” Hyunjin sniffled. “I could have helped her you asshole.” 

SMACK! 

Hyunjin grunted as Minho smacked him across the cheek, falling backward until he hit his back on one of the doorknobs. 

Damn that hurt. 

“You have to get your shit together.” Minho grabbed Hyunjin by the collar, roughly shoving him against the wall until the boy calmed down. “You can’t help her like this. Calm the fuck down and tell me what the hell happened.” 

Hyunjin rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he explained. “She’s being framed for murder. They set it all up Minho.” Hyunjin told the boy everything, from the dead body in her room to the broken shard of glass resting in your hands. “It just doesn’t add up.” Hyunjin sniffled, trying to get his emotions in check. “You have to help me.” 

“You really do love her don’t you?” The older boy smirked. 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Now’s not the time to tease me over senseless shit.” 

“It’s not senseless if it’s true — and I know for a fact it’s true.” Minho chuckled when Hyunjin glared at him. “Okay okay, getting back on track. This isn’t the first time this has happened. From what you’re telling me, this is exactly what happened to my patient, Han Jisung.” 

“Your patient was framed for murder?” Hyunjin’s brows creased. Is that how they get rid of people? “What happened to him?”

“He made it out just fine.” Minho’s eyes softened. “She’ll be okay Hwang. Don’t worry so much. We’ll get her out of there.” 

“How do we do that?” Hyunjin didn’t even know where to start. 

“You really think I haven’t already come up with a plan?” Minho shook his head, making the younger boy chuckle. “I’m no genius like you Hwang, but I know exactly what to do.” 

-----------------------

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.

Oh, how you wanted to rip that clock out of the wall. The least they could do is shut the damn thing off. Minutes melted into hours which morphed into days and here you were… stuck in this damn room. 

The padded room was the most dreadful place anyone could be in. There was nothing to do, no one to talk to, nothing to look at, and the caretakers only came in to force-feed you and shove pills down your throat. To top it off, the only things you got to listen to were the constant ticking of that shitty clock and the sounds of the voices in your head. 

Not those kind voices… Do you even have those anymore? No, you got to listen to the ones that told you horrible things. 

You were positive you were taking that bad drug Hyunjin’s been throwing out… Peroproxin. As soon as the pills were shoved down your throat, you could feel it in your bones. The crippling anxiety, anger, and panic transformed you into this person you couldn’t place. Your body felt shaky, mind racing with various worst-case scenarios and horrible possibilities as soon as you closed your eyes. It wasn’t as if you could keep them open. The damn room was so bright, it was borderline painful to look at. 

It had been three days since you were dragged down here. The barren white walls were slowly making you crazy. You just wanted out of there. You wanted Hyunjin. 

That boy was the only happiness you had in this world. All you wanted to do was sit next to him and hear him share the fond memories he has of his mother and father. You longed to hear him talk about college, his research, or just any old thing. Hyunjin could talk about garbage and it would intrigue you. 

The uncomfortable padded floor made you wish Hyunjin’s arms were around you instead. You thoroughly enjoyed resting in Hyunjin’s arms when you’ve had a bad day. He always knows exactly what to do to calm you down. You closed your eyes as you imagined Hyunjin’s arms around you, his gentle voice whispering soothing words in your ears. If only your imagination was good enough. 

It wasn’t the same...

You just wanted him — especially when you were one step away from losing your goddamn mind. That goddamn clock was literally driving you crazy. 

You used all your strength, punching, kicking, smacking the walls until someone punched the door on the other side. “Knock it off in there.” 

“Fucking make me.” You snarled, punching the door with more vigor. Why were you so angry? You were normally such a calm person. Was it the medicine? You couldn’t place why, but you were ready to claw someone’s eyes out. 

“Get the fuck back.” 

You laughed maniacally, hands threading in your hair as your mind turned against you. You officially lost it. 

As soon as your fingernails dug into your scalp, you heard the familiar boots scuff against the floor as the guards poured into the room. From what you could place, there were three. One kicked you to the ground, another pulled you up by your hair, and they all forced you into a straight jacket. Once you were completely secure, one of the guards kicked you down to the ground, leaving you stuck and helpless on the floor. 

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock. 

Fuck the padded room. 

-----------------------

Hyunjin sighed, fingertips pinching the bridge of his nose as he mumbled, “The footage is missing.” 

“I see that dumbass.” Minho sighed. He was hoping the video footage would show the culprit, but he only found missing sections during the time of the murder. “Whoever we’re dealing with has access to security.” 

“They must have deleted the footage when Changbin was taking her to the padded room.” Hyunjin’s eyes drifted shut as he tried to keep his emotions in check. It’s already been three days. You were probably going crazy in there. Hyunjin prayed to God that you still trusted him — believed in his ability to help you. If you lost that trust… he didn’t know what he’d do. 

“I have a plan.” Minho blurted out. 

“Last time you had a plan it didn’t go too well,” Hyunjin smirked, nudging the older boy’s shoulder. 

Minho rolled his eyes. “Okay, unless you have a plan, I suggest you shut the fuck up and listen.” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle. Being around Minho was a breath of fresh air. The older boy was snarky and sarcastic 90% of the time, but he had a big heart and hated this hospital just as much as he did. Hyunjin couldn’t imagine being stuck in that asylum without him. “What’s your plan?”

Minho’s face dropped slightly. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I’m not sucking anyone’s dick.” Hyunjin shook his head. “Especially not Dr. Douglas’s. I’d consider Asher though.” 

“Christ.” Minho couldn’t help but laugh. “Why is your mind always in the gutter?”

“You told me I wouldn’t like it.” Hyunjin snickered. “I started thinking about the worst thing you could possibly have me do and sucking dick is number one.” 

“Really?” Minho chuckled. “So you’d kill a man over sucking Dr. Douglas’s dick?”

“Okay, but…” Hyunjin trailed off. “I feel like his dick would be super gross.” 

“Oh my God, can we please stop talking about our boss’s dick?” Minho pushed Hyunjin’s shoulder, sending both of them into a fit of giggles. 

“Thanks.” Hyunjin smiled. “I needed this.” 

Minho shrugged. “I’m not doing anything. You were the one who brought up dick sucking.” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ok seriously, what’s your plan?” 

“You’re going to have to apologize to Dr. Henry.” Minho smiled sheepishly at Hyunjin. 

“Okay.” Hyunjin threw his hands in the air. “Apologizing to that asshole officially tops dick sucking.” 

Minho laughed. “Seriously? Your logic confuses me.” 

“He’s such an asshole.” Hyunjin’s brows creased as he remembered all the bad things that man has done to you. “I’ll apologize but right after I leave I’m saying sike.” 

“Just keep him distracted so I can get my ass in there and look around.” Minho rolled his eyes at Hyunjin’s dramatics. 

“Fine.” Hyunjin crossed his arms. “Wait… Why Dr. Henry?”

Minho gave Hyunjin an exasperated look. “Seriously? He’s the shiftiest guy here.”

“Touché.” Hyunjin mumbled. “Fine, I’ll keep him distracted. You go find evidence to put that fucker in prison.” 

“We ride!” Minho darted out into the hallway, making the ebony-haired boy chuckle. 

Hyunjin rushed down the hallways, finding Dr. Henry as he headed back to his office. Minho was leaning against the wall, waiting for Hyunjin to make his move. 

Damn that boy moves fast. 

“Excuse me, sir!” Hyunjin speed-walked over to Dr. Henry, long legs making it easy to catch him while he was still a good distance away from the office. Frustration bubbled in Hyunjin’s chest as Dr. Henry rolled his eyes, shoving his pen in his front pocket as he turned to look at Hyunjin. “Do you mind if we talk for a second?”

“Of course not.” Dr. Henry crossed his arms, bracing himself for an argument. 

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior lately.” Hyunjin smiled nervously, messing with his hands in front of him. “I’ve been really nervous lately and with everything that’s going on with my patient, I just… I was on edge. I was hoping we could start over.” Hyunjin’s eyes shifted behind Dr. Henry, noticing Minho stealthily slip into the office. 

Minho sighed in relief as he closed the door behind him. First things first… he has to look through the paperwork on the desk. Perhaps he could find a written note or some sort of written evidence. He had to find something that would prove you didn’t murder that man. Minho’s eyes scanned the various papers, sighing when he saw typical prescriptions and doctor’s notes. Those wouldn’t help your case at all.

“Wait Dr. Henry!” 

Minho held his breath when he heard Hyunjin’s frantic voice. His shoulders relaxed when he heard Hyunjin start small talk with Dr. Henry on the other side of the door. 

Time to look through the drawers. Minho opened one of the drawers, nearly gagging when he saw a box of condoms. What kind of doctor needs condoms in this damn place? Who was he fucking? Probably Janice from the front desk. She was known to seduce the doctors in the institution. 

Minho quickly shut that drawer and opened another, gasping when he spotted a knife. Could this be it? Minho pulled the knife out of the drawer, eyes widening when he saw the blood stains coating the entire blade. 

This had to be it!

“Hyunjin I have to go back to work.” 

Minho quickly shoved the knife in his pocket, closed the drawer, and sat down in the chair neatly placed on the other side of Dr. Henry’s desk. 

“What are you doing here Minho?” Dr. Henry tossed a couple of files on his desk. “I don’t recall scheduling a meeting with you.” 

“I wanted to talk to you about the glass removal.” Minho trailed off, trying to think up a good lie. “One of Dr. Brock’s patients wandered out in the lobby and BROKE THE PURPLE VASE,” Minho said the last part louder, hoping Hyunjin was still out there to hear him. Please just go out there and break the damn vase… “We should probably remove glass decor everywhere to prevent patients from getting hurt.” 

Dr. Henry looked unamused as he opened one of his drawers, tossing his notepad in there for safekeeping. “Dr. Brock should be controlling his patient.” 

“But if —”

“Minho.” Dr. Henry glared at the younger boy. “I don’t have time for this pointless shit. If you think the glass should be removed, then remove it. You don’t have to talk to me about every little thing. I have better things to do.” 

“Yes, sir.” Minho sighed and stood up. “Sorry for disturbing you.” Minho frowned when Dr. Henry waved him off, eyes refusing to leave the file in front of him. “Asshole.” He mumbled under his breath as he walked out of the office, bumping into a frantic-looking Hyunjin. 

“I’m so sorry. I tried to get him to stop but he just barged through me.” Hyunjin’s eyes were full of worry, anxiety taking over him as he apologized for his carelessness. “I could have gotten you in so much trouble.” 

“What an asshole.” Minho’s brows creased as he remembered the conversation that took place in the office. That douchebag didn’t care about his patients one bit. 

Hyunjin’s head fell as he tried to apologize. “I’m so sorry. I suck. I had one job.” 

“No, not you dumbass.” Minho chuckled and ruffled the taller boy’s hair. “Did you break the vase?”

Confusion took over the Hyunjin’s features. “No? I was supposed to break a vase? When did that become a part of the plan?” 

Minho shrugged. Dr. Henry probably wouldn’t remember the conversation anyways. He was barely listening the whole time. “Nevermind. Come on, I have something to show you.” 

Hyunjin’s brows raised as he followed the older boy down the hallways to the security room. His heart dropped when he spotted the security feed, spotting your tired frame in the video. 

“Wait is she in a straight jacket?” Hyunjin rushed over to the monitor, enlarging the window so he could watch you. You were lying face up, staring at the ceiling, face devoid of all emotion as you did nothing. 

“No please, feel free.” Changbin sounded unamused. “I wasn’t doing anything important.” 

Minho sighed, resting his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Give him a break. He’s going through a lot.” Minho pulled Hyunjin away from the monitor, catching the attention of Chan. “He’s also not used to interacting with people.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes and started to retort, but Chan cut him off before he could say anything.  

“Hey, what are you two doing here?” Chan smiled. 

“Come over here Chan,” Minho called him over. “You’ll want to see this.” The boys all crowded around Minho as he pulled out the bloody knife, making everyone gasp. “Christ, what are y’all being dramatic for?” Minho rolled his eyes. “I found this in Dr. Henry’s desk.” Minho caught Hyunjin’s gaze. “Your girl didn’t kill that man.” 

“Dr. Henry did?” Hyunjin’s tongue ran over his chapped lips. “We need more proof. Dr. Douglas isn’t going —” 

“Dr. Douglas isn’t going to find out about this.” Minho cut Hyunjin off. “Dr. Henry is his right-hand man. There’s no way he’s going to believe us.” Minho sighed. “If anything he’ll find a way to blame you for that man’s murder.” 

“Who was he?” Chan fiddled with his thumbs as he asked. Hyunjin could tell that everyone was on edge. They were all involved in a secret that couldn’t be revealed. 

“Charles Johnson,” Changbin answered. “He wasn’t a patient here. We assume he was a visitor, but there’s no one here with the last name Johnson.” 

“He could have been visiting a friend.” Chan shrugged. 

Hyunjin bit his lower lip as his mind raced with endless possibilities. “Or perhaps he got in the way.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself Hyunjin.” Minho set the bloody knife on the table. 

“From what I’ve seen, Dr. Douglas trusts Dr. Henry.” Chan pursed his lips. “Dr. Henry could have this whole hospital under his control and Dr. Douglas wouldn’t even know.” 

“Are you saying that Dr. Douglas has no idea what’s going on?” Hyunjin frowned. “I have a hard time believing that.” 

“I’m not saying anything like that.” Chan’s brows creased. “I’m just pointing out the facts.” Chan picked up the bloody knife and slid it into his pocket. “I’ll take this to the lab and we’ll see if the DNA matches up to Charles Johnson.” 

“How long will that take?” Minho asked as he leaned back against the wall.

“It’ll take around 24-48 hours.” Chan smiled, dimples showing full force as he rested his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulders. “I’ll try to go as fast as I can.” 

Hyunjin smiled sadly, eyes shifting back to your defeated frame on the monitor. “Please do.” 

-----------------------

The next couple of days were complete hell for Hyunjin. Since you were still technically his patient, he couldn’t take on another one. The first day Hyunjin filled prescriptions for 8 hours until he was released to go home. The second day, he decided to pester Minho. Thank goodness Minho was able to get him out of the asylum to walk around the gardens, otherwise, the boy probably would have gone crazy. 

“Hey, look.” Minho pointed to the front desk lady. “She’s fucking Dr. Henry.” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but snicker. “How do you know this stuff?”

“I happen to know a lot of talkative people.” Minho shrugged. “That and I asked her.” 

“You asked her?” Hyujin giggled as he filed some paperwork. “Didn’t she find that weird?”

“Actually no.” Minho chuckled. “She’s practically fucked everyone but you and me in this damn place.” Minho cringed as he shoved a bunch of papers into a manila envelope. “She thought I was interested in her.” 

Right on queue, Janice sauntered over to Minho leaning against the counter, bright red lips puckered in a pout as she trailed her finger along his jaw. “Hey, baby. I enjoyed our little chat last night.”

“Please don’t touch me.” Minho pushed her hand off him, making Hyunjin snort. 

“Don’t be rude Minho,” Hyunjin smirked at the boy. “You didn’t tell me about your wonderful girlfriend.” 

Minho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll end you.” Hyunjin threw his head back and laughed. “Seriously, I’ll murder your ass, bury you in the gardens, and dance on your grave.” Minho glared at the boy. 

“Don’t be like that baby.” Janice winked at Minho, making the boy cringe. 

“I’m into men,” Minho stated matter of factly. “I thought you knew that.” 

Janice’s eyes went wide as she gasped. “What? No, you’re not.” 

“Yeah, Hyunjin and I are dating.” Minho wrapped his arm around Hyunjin’s waist and squeezed his ass, making the younger boy burst out in laughter. “He laughs at everything, I’m not sure why.” 

Janice’s eyes shifted around, avoiding their gaze as embarrassment crept in. “I’m so sorry I thought you were straight.” She laughed nervously. “I’ll just leave you to it then.” Janice quickly scurried off, leaving Hyunjin a giggling mess. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you did that.” Hyunjin snickered. 

Minho glared at Hyunjin, sending him into another fit of laughter. “I can’t believe you called her my girlfriend.” Minho shivered. “I can’t date someone who’s fucked the entire hospital.” 

“Hey, guys.” Chan strolled into the room, frowning when he saw the two boys giggling amongst all the paperwork. “Okay, I’m curious. What’s up?”

“Oh, I just groped Hyunjin for a solid minute so I could get Janice to fuck off.” Minho shrugged as if that was a normal thing to say. 

Chan chuckled. “Good call.” He paused, pulling the murder weapon out of his pocket, making the boy’s laughter die down. “I have news.” 

Hyunjin grabbed the knife from Chan, sliding the blade into his pocket for safekeeping. “Go ahead. We’re listening.”

“The blood matches Charles Johnson.” Chan paused, trying to find the right words. “Dr. Henry’s fingerprints aren’t on the weapon.” 

“But it was in his office?” Hyunjin’s brows creased. Something about this whole situation didn’t feel right. If the weapon was in Dr. Henry’s office, that meant he set up the murder, right? Was someone else trying to frame Dr. Henry? The man was an asshole, but Hyunjin didn’t feel right accusing him of murder if he didn’t do it. “How did it get in his office then?”

“I have no idea.” Chan sighed. “He doesn’t keep his door locked, so it’s possible that someone was trying to frame him.” Chan shrugged. “Either way, you have enough to release her. Her fingerprints aren’t on the murder weapon.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes brightened instantly. “Really?”

“Don’t accuse Dr. Henry of murder.” Chan lowered his voice. “We have no proof and he’ll just try to pin the murder on you.” 

“I’ll tell him that I found someone slipping that in his office.” Hyunjin smiled. “Thank you.” The younger boy turned to Minho, an excited smile gracing his features. “Come on, let’s go!” Hyunjin’s smile dropped when he saw Minho hesitate, eyes full of uncertainty as he took a step back.

“I can’t.” Minho sighed as he looked down at his feet, avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze. “I’m sorry, but I can’t keep getting wrapped up in this.” 

Hyunjin felt a pang in his chest. “What… What do you mean?”

“Please understand, I have to keep my good reputation here —” 

“It’s fine.” Hyunjin held his hand up, stopping the boy in his tracks. “I get it.” 

Hyunjin stormed out of the room before Minho had a chance to explain further. Of course, he understood. The boy had been working at the Rosewood Psychiatric Institution for years, and if they wanted to break out of that place, they’d need someone on the inside. Still… Hyunjin was kind of hoping Minho would be there with him to expose Dr. Henry for who he really was. 

Hyunjin walked quickly down the hallways, knife in his pocket as he headed to Dr. Henry’s office. His heart dropped in his chest the more he thought about Minho. He knew the boy was still his best friend but… Hyunjin couldn’t shake the thought that he was pushing Minho to do things he didn’t want to do. Maybe the boy was content living in this fucked-up place? Hyunjin never really had a friend before — the last thing he wanted to do was ruin his friendship with Minho. 

He shook his head as he trudged forward. He had to stay focused! Hyunjin stormed into Dr. Henry’s office, slamming the murder weapon on the desk. “I saw someone smuggle this into your office.” Hyunjin panted. “Someone’s trying to frame you for murder.” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t you?” Dr. Henry smirked as he stared into Hyunjin’s eyes. “For all I know, you killed that man.” 

Fuck, he didn’t think this through. 

“Look, her prints aren’t on the weapon. Here’s the report I pulled.” Hyunjin slid over some paperwork, sighing in relief as Dr. Henry looked over the contents on the front page. “We could only identify the DNA from Charles Johnson. We couldn’t find the killer.” Hyunjin sighed, hoping Dr. Henry would be reasonable. “Please release her.”

“You have to get Dr. Douglas’s permission.” Dr. Henry pursed his lips. “I can’t do anything about this.” 

“Yes, you can.” Hyunjin leaned forward, practically begging for the man’s help. “Please sign off on her release.” 

Dr. Henry sighed and signed the papers. “Here. I’ll talk to Dr. Douglas. Just don’t go mentioning this to anyone. I’m not willing to fork out favors to everyone.” 

“Thank you so much.” Hyunjin bowed and snatched the papers, instantly leaving the office. He sprinted down the hall, heading straight for the room you were contained in. Hyunjin rolled his eyes when he spotted the guards lounging outside the door, messing around on their phones instead of watching you. 

“Sir, you aren’t supposed to be here.” One of the guards stood up and hovered in front of Hyunjin, attempting to appear bigger than he was. 

Hyunjin would have laughed at the smaller man if he wasn’t so concerned about getting you out of that room in one piece. “Let me in.” Hyunjin demanded, shoving the signed paperwork into the guard’s hands. “Now.” He leaned forward, using his height to his advantage as he hovered over the smaller guard. 

The guard merely scoffed. “I just said —” 

“Read the damn paperwork.” Hyunjin sighed in frustration as the guard looked over the papers. All he wanted to do was get you out of there — to let you know that you weren’t alone, that he was fighting for you this entire time. 

The guard sighed before opening the door, allowing the ebony-haired man to rush into the room. His breath hitched when his eyes rested upon your frame. You were lying face-up on the floor, face emotionless as you stared up at the ceiling. Hyunjin could see your lips moving as if you were reciting something over and over again to keep your mind off the painfully empty room. 

Hyunjin rushed over to you, soft soothing words escaping his lips as he practically ripped the straight jacket off your body. Your eyes glassed over as Hyunjin helped you stretch out your arms. God, it felt so good to have his gentle hands on you. It had been days since you’ve seen another human being, let alone someone as kind as Hyunjin. 

The boy pulled you into his arms, rocking you slowly as your shaky hands grasped his shirt. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. You could swear you felt his lips press against the top of your head but… maybe that was just your imagination. “I tried to get you out of here as fast as I could.” 

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. The words wouldn’t come out, but he must have heard your silent thanks. Hyunjin gently lifted you up, hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist as he stood up and carried you out of the room. Part of you was happy to see the barren halls. You couldn’t fathom seeing Hyunjin get in trouble for breaking you out of the padded room. 

Hyunjin somehow, after a couple of tries, managed to open the door to your room with his foot. You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the boy’s failed attempts. “Hey don’t laugh at me, I’m trying.” Hyunjin smiled as he carried you to your bed. The ebony-haired boy gently lowered you onto the mattress, hands quickly tucking your blankets around your body. 

“You’re safe now.” Hyunjin’s thumb ran across your cheek. “I won’t let them take you again.” 

You wanted — so badly — to tell him how much you appreciate him, but you couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. You were frozen in your own body, the pain and suffering from the past few days leaving you an empty shell. Your hand darted out, grasping Hyunjin’s wrist, turning the boy’s attention to you. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you pulled his wrist closer, hoping the boy’s body would follow. You needed him. 

Hyunjin’s eyes darted to the door as Chan stepped into the room, ready to take over his morning shift. “I’ll stay with her today.” Hyunjin’s soft voice was oddly soothing to your ears. Chan merely nodded and left, leaving the two of you alone to sort out your feelings. 

Hyunjin crawled in bed with you, sliding underneath the blankets so he could pull you to his chest. “Hey, it’s okay.” His fingertips ran through your hair, the sounds of his steady breathing mixed with his frantic heartbeat helped comfort you as you cried in his chest. “I tried to get you out as soon as I could.” Hyunjin’s arms tightened around you. “We found the murder weapon. We were able to prove that you’re innocent.” 

Your emotions were overwhelming — panic racing through you as you sobbed into Hyunjin’s chest. You thought you’d be stuck there forever. You thought Hyunjin gave up on you and yet — here you are, laying in the man’s arms as he whispered sweet comforting words into your ear. 

“Want to hear something funny?” Hyunjin smiled when you nodded. “Minho was going through Dr. Henry’s desk and figured out that he was sleeping with the receptionist. She came to flirt with him and he told her he was gay.” Hyunjin chuckled. “He told her that I was his boyfriend grabbed my ass to prove a point.” You couldn’t help but snort at the taller boy as you smacked his chest. 

Good. He was able to get you to smile again. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Hyunjin’s fingertips drew small patterns on your back, the soothing touch making you melt into his embrace. Your hands grasped Hyunjin’s shirt as you adjusted your position, holding him closer to your shivering frame. 

“I feel wrong.” You mumbled against his shirt. “I’m scared.” 

Hyunjin tightened his hold on you, fingers running through your hair as he slowly rocked you back and forth. “It’s okay, love.” His cheek rested against the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” 

Hearing those sweet soothing words from Hyunjin made you feel calmer with each passing second. He always found a way to pull through — no matter what the cost. The entire time you were in that room, you thought of him. You longed to hear his voice, feel his touch, but most of all, you wanted his lips against yours. 

Wait… what?

Your hands tightened on his shirt as you gasped, startling the boy beneath you. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin’s bright eyes were filled with concern as he checked you over, making sure you weren’t hurt. His eyes widened when he lifted your shirt, spotting several bruises along your ribs. “Oh my God, what did they do to you?”

You pushed his hands away from your body. There was a bigger problem at hand. You loved your caretaker. You can’t love your caretaker! They’ll take him away. Besides… He couldn’t love a crazy person. Hyunjin should be out in the world falling in love with a beautiful, happy, down-to-earth woman… not you. 

God, why were you panicking?

“Hey, hey.” Hyunjin grabbed your arms, steadying you as he looked into your eyes. “What’s going on sweetheart? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“I love you!” 

#hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin fanfictions #stray kids hwang hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #kpop angst #angst #my writing #tw: blood #tw: murder #tw: violence #tw: assault #tw: panic attack #tw: depression #tw: self harm #tw: anxiety #tw: drugs

[hxneymalfxy]

a first for everything. [SERIES]

summary: when you get accepted into hogwarts for a transfer year, you are beyond ecstatic. however, you soon find out a change in enviornment won’t be your only problem. draco malfoy, the most dramatic boy in your year, has been chosen to keep an eye on you throughout your entire year. what on earth could go wrong?

genre: angst, fluff

word count: ???

pairing: prefect!draco malfoy x ilvermorny!reader

part/s: intro // one // two // to be continued

»»————-　➴　————-««

The train ride to Hogwarts was silent for the majority of your trip. Mostly because you sat at very back, all alone in your own compartment. The only interaction you’d had was with the lady handling the trolley, ending in you buying a few sweets with the money your mother had given you.

You had originally come from America, studying in Ilvermorny. As far as you could tell, you might be the only transfer student in your year.

How amazing. You silently think to yourself. Your first time going to a foreign school and you have no one to help you around.

Sighing, you put your headphones back on, adjusting the volume on your Walkman. No-Maj artifacts really interested you, since both your parents worked in the American Ministry of Magic. It amazed you how the other world could create things just as amazing as magic could. Of course, nothing could live up to the wizarding world, but they still tried.

The beat of the music let your thoughts die down, at least until you got to the campus. When you finally arrived, you saw the flashes of different colored robes pass through the window of your compartment. Red, Blue, Yellow, and Green.

You hadn’t researched much about the Hogwarts houses, but you knew enough to help you identify each one. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and lastly Slytherin. The last one was definitely something you wanted to avoid. Apparently, there’s not a witch or a wizard who hadn’t gone bad who wasn’t from Slytherin.

Gathering your belongings, you make your way to exit door. The smell of pine cone filled the air and you smiled, since it reminded you a bit of home.

Wow [Y/N], not even a day in Hogwarts and you’re already homesick. You thought to yourself.

As you made your way through the crowd, you end up dropping your letter. Quickly, you set your bags down and reach for it. The cobble floor felt cold to the touch, and it yet again reminded you of home. God, how were you supposed to survive the year if all you thought about was home?

After a frustrated sigh you stand up to gather your belongings. Or at least you tried to.

“Watch where you’re going you git!” A voice shouted. You spun around on your heel to face a rather tall and pale boy, with an annoyed expression painted on his face.

Taking your headphones off and hanging them on your neck, you quickly apologize to the stranger you had bumped into. You didn’t wait for his response, and you swiftly made your way out of the crowd of people and into the entrance of the castle.

»»————-　➴　————-««

You felt out of place. After being instructed to leave your bags at the entry way, you were told to follow the first years into the dining hall. You walked in feeling naked, all eyes set on you since you were very clearly not a first year. When you finally made your way to the front of the hall, your eyes met who you could only guess was Professor Dumbledore.

He stood tall, his long white beard tied at the end. A slender lady tapped her glass, and the commotion in the room came to a halt.

“A very warm welcome to everyone this evening.” Dumbledore announced to the room of young witches and wizards. “As you’ve already known, Hogwarts has launched its exchange year with Ilvermorny. I hope that you can welcome her as if she was one of our own.” He smiled warmly at you.

He continued to announce what seemed to be the regular welcoming to all first years. After his greetings, the slender woman who’s name was Professor McGonagall instructed for the first years to follow her list as they were to be sorted into their houses.

While waiting for your name to be announced, your eyes looked around the hall. The ceiling was beautiful, having been enchanted with magic to look like a starry night sky. The banners of the school hung in the air with pride, above all the tables. Candles floated in the air emitting their warm bright light. It all felt so surreal. You’d dreamed about going to Hogwarts and now here you were.

You were so caught up that you didn’t realize that your name had been called.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N]?” Professor McGonagall called out once again. You practically lept in your place, startled at the loud voice. You heard a quiet snicker from one of the tables from your left.

Red from embarrassment, you hastily made your way to the wooden stool that sat on the platform. And the moment was finally here, the moment for you to be placed into your house. Your eyes scanned across the room only to be met with sharp, peircing blue-green eyes. He rolled his eyes and you quickly broke eye contact.

Professor McGonagall had placed the sorting hat on your head and you waited- along with thousands of other students- for what the results would be.

“Curios, very curios indeed. Many, many talents! But where to sort you?” The Sorting Hat yelled.

The tension in the room got thicker when the hat stayed silent for a few seconds. You crossed your fingers under your robes, hoping and praying anything but Slytherin.

“Hmmm! The only place to put you in is... Gryffindor!” The hat decided. You let a heavy breath out of your chest and made your way down to the table.

You eyes glanced around the room once more, and it happed again. Your eyes met with his, his face showing the tiniest spark of interest. You decided to give him a small smile, and he sneered. He broke eye contact once again and focused his attention on the two boys who sat next to him.

You shrugged and made your way to the Gryffindor table, settling in and greeting everyone who was near you. A curly haired girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger, along with two other boys who sat next to her, Harry Potter and Ron Weasely.

The four of you got yourselves acquainted, soon finding out that you were in the same year as them. After dinner you didn’t feel as lonely anymore, since Hermione had taken it upon herself to help get settled in. She was actually quite nice, a contrast from all your other friends at Ilvermorny.

Once settled into the dormitories, you realized you needed sleep badly. A whole day of traveling can really do some damage. Once falling into the softness of the beds, your eyes slowly drifted into sleep. Not before, however, seeing the same blue-green eyes once again.

»»————-　➴　————-««

author’s note: hello everyone! thank you for reading my first story on tumblr haha 🥺. i recently got back into writing and decided to give tumblr a try since there are so many amazing creators on here. just a few notes on this story, i was inspired after reading the background of Ilvermorny. i wanted to give it a try, and i’m very sorry if I get a few things wrong. hopefully you guys enjoyed it!

#enemies to lovers #angst #fluff #romance #fanfiction #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #ilvermorny #harry potter fanfiction #draco x reader #hermione granger #ron weasley #ginny weasley #pansy parkinson #fred weasley #george weasley