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goldenempyrean · 2 months

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Spring Showers

〚 Notes - Hello! This was based off this: request! I was meant to post this yesterday I think but something came up. Hopefully this is enjoyable, honestly feels good to write again :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - When you’re sick, your day goes from bad to worse. A small car breakdown later and you find yourself unexpectedly bumping into Natasha. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2681 〛

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Waking up that fresh spring morning, you rolled over to snooze the alarm that had pulled you out of your slumber, hitting it lazily before letting gravity take control and send your arm flopping over the edge of the bed.

You groaned a little as it hit the edge of your bed, rubbing your elbow with an annoyed look as if somehow death-staring the metal frame would make up for it.

As you begrudgingly got out of bed, the chill of the early morning hit you, sending a shiver down your spine. You had to admit felt a bit off, today. Your head heavy and your throat scratchy but you ignored the signs of fatigue and finished getting dressed and ready for the day.

Nat was always one to be up and out early in the mornings. Running, training or sometimes even just reading, whatever it was, she was definitely up and ready for her day before sunrise. Early bird gets the worm? Well, the early widow gets her 90-minute workout in without being disturbed. She liked it that way.

Unfortunately, it meant you usually weren’t able to see her most days before heading out to work - the rare exception being when you were on a late shift and got a few extra hours at home before heading out.

You weren’t an Avenger like your girlfriend, instead you served the people of New York by working in the local hospital as the Chief Nurse in charge. It was a demanding job, but one you found incredibly rewarding.

The pouring rain grabbed back your wandering attention as you sat sleepily over your chosen bowl of cereal. You hadn’t really had an appetite but had forced a few bites down regardless before you lost interest. Checking your phone, you realised you needed to set off, so you grabbed your car keys and headed out the compound.

As you pulled into the hospital's parking lot, you mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. You tried to clear your throat as you checked yourself over in the mirror, but it ended in you coughing raspily and sighing in defeat as you rubbed your throat. Maybe water would get rid of the soreness, you thought as you took a tentative sip from your bottle… nope, it still hurt. What a fun day this was going to be.

Whoever said being in charge was fun, was sorely mistaken. Throughout the morning, you found yourself raising your voice more often than usual to be heard over the cacophony of the emergency room. By midday, your voice had started to crack and strain, sending sharp pains down your throat with each word.

Eventually you resigned yourself to your office, sick (literally) of the mix of pitiful, disgusted and annoyed glances you were receiving from both residents and patients.

As you sat in your office, trying to soothe your aching throat and mustering the energy to tackle the mountain of paperwork on your desk, the hospital intercom made you jump as it crackled to life, urgently calling you to the ER.

You groaned but despite your muscle’s aching, your instincts kicked in, and you rushed out of your office towards the ER.

As you entered the chaotic room, your senses were assaulted by the echo of urgent voices and the sharp smell of antiseptic made your eyes water.

You had barely assessed the ongoing situation before a sudden sneeze erupted from you, surprising yourself with its volume. You’d quickly covered your mouth, but the damage was done. Several heads turned in your direction, eyebrows raised in concern.

Before you could even attempt to explain, your boss appeared, her expression a mix of concern and sternness. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" She asked, her tone indicating she already knew the answer.

You tried to muster a response, but your throat rebelled, emitting only a hoarse croak instead.

Your bosses' eyes softened slightly, an understanding look settling on her face. "You're ill," She stated matter-of-factly. "Go home, rest, and don't come back until you're fully recovered. We don’t need you starting an epidemic.”

Despite your protests, she ushered you out of the ER and back to your office to collect your belongings. She helped you collect your things, only stopping to hold a thermometer to your ear as she checked your temperature.

You thanked her hoarsely as she held open the door for you, “Seriously, I don’t want you back until 48 hours after that fever breaks.” She warned with a stern tone but the gentle pat on your back made it obvious she was just worried that’s all.

As you stepped out of the hospital, the chilly rain immediately soaked through your clothes, sending shivers down your spine. You dropped your keys twice as you fumbled to unlock your car, finally flopping down behind the wheel with an drained sigh - a sigh which your crackling lungs despised, reprimanding you in the form of a burning cough.

As you drove home, the rain beat relentlessly against the windshield, blurring the already dimly lit road ahead. Each cough sent a sharp pang through your chest, and your vision blurred with exhaustion. You tried to focus on driving safely, your mind drifting to the warmth of your bed and girlfriend waiting for you at home. Not long now…

But just as you approached a traffic light, your car sputtered, the engine emitting a series of ominous noises before finally giving out with a pathetic wheeze. Panic seized you as you coasted to the side of the road, hazard lights flashing weakly in the rain.

You tried to restart the engine, but it only responded with a feeble groan before falling silent again.

“Oh you piece of shit!” You slammed your hand on the wheel as the car’s engine light flickered an angry red, “Stupid, fucking-“ An awful cough broke off your curse, your grip on the wheel turning white as your lungs burned.

After you caught your breath, you leaned back in your seat, feeling utterly defeated. Each raindrop seemed to mock your predicament, drumming against the windshield like a cruel taunt. With a heavy heart and a pounding headache you pulled out your phone - fighting back exhausted tears as you saw the critical low battery warning flash up on the screen.

You didn’t know the number of any breakdown services or anyone that could really be of help. The most you were able to do was to text Tony to ask him to help you move your car tomorrow. He had always been quick to respond so you found your spirits lifting just an inch higher when he agreed. However, those spirits were surely crushed when you opened up the Uber app on your phone only for the screen to turn black, taunting you with the picture of an empty battery.

“For fucks sake!”

There was nothing more you could do. You’d just have to walk. Nobody was coming to save you. You were a grown girl. You can look after yourself. There was a grocery store just down this road, maybe 10 minutes or so. You’d be able to stop there, rest, maybe pick up a few supplies. There’d be a phone there too, you’d be able to call someone to pick you up.

As you trudged through the rain, each step heavier than the last, you had to practically drag yourself down the street as your congested lungs begged for air. It was hard for see through the constant rain; the whistling of the wind made your ears throb. The chill of your soaked clothes clung tightly to your skin, and the coughing fits continued to rack your exhausted body until finally you’d made it.

You didn’t wait any longer before heading inside. The bright fluoresce of the lights made your eyes sting a little but this was miles better compared to being outside getting battered by the rain.

With each stumbling step, you grabbed a basket make your way to find some medicine. You just wanted something to make you feel better, just anything that would put an end to your awful day.

Maybe you should get some actual groceries whilst you where did. It wouldn’t hurt to stock up the cupboards a little, you might as well consider you were here.

Little did you know your girlfriend was already one step ahead of you.

Natasha’s eyes widened a little as she strolled down the aisle, pushing along half a cart of groceries as she hummed. Y/N? What were you doing here? This was a pleasant surprise and she kept quiet as she snuck up to you.

“Hey bub.” Her warm voice murmured, and you felt familiar arms wrap around the front of your waist. Natasha’s head came to rest on your shoulder as she nosied at what you were looking at, “I thought we agreed that I’d be doing groceries this week.” She purred, kissing the side of your neck sweetly.

You shrugged through gritted teeth, your damp clothes crinkling uncomfortably, “I just needed something.”

“Hold on.” Her brow crinkled just a little, “I thought you had work?” She paused, her face shifting slightly as she realised just how soaked you were. This was not the kind of damp someone got just walking from the car to the entrance. You were drenched! “God, you’re soaked Y/N! Where on earth have you been? Did you walk here?!”

Your eyes cast to the floor. You’d forgotten that it was usually the day that the two of you had gone grocery shopping. Of course, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Nat might’ve been in the store.

“I may have got a little damp.” You sniffled thickly, trying to keep your tone neutral but the painful rasp in your voice instantly gave yourself away, “…and my car may or may not have broken down coming back from work.”

Natasha's concern deepened as she noticed your raspy voice. "Oh, sweetheart, you should have called me. I would've come to pick you up." Her voice softened, filled with genuine worry. Her grip tightened around you a little. “You're not just ‘damp’, you're practically drenched and- oh, what’s this?” Her eyes glanced down, noticing the theme of items in your own basket.

She had just about to ask you about them, but her question was answered when you ducked into your elbow with two forceful sounding sneezes barely seconds later.

“Double bless you!” Her tone shifted instantly to one of comfort, “Guess I don’t need to ask why your voice is so hoarse and you’re buying meds then, hm?” She cooed and you turned around with a pout, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her.

“You’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, she just looked at you, looking deep into your weary eyes as she continued to hold you, “How long?”

You let out a small cough into her shoulder, “This morning. Got worse at work, got sent home which was beyond embarrassing.” Your croaking voice mumbled in defeat as Nat’s hand came to soothingly rub your back.

“I’m so tired and achy.” You continued, grumbling softly, finally feeling the weight of the day begin to let up as Nat continued to hold you in the moment, “My throat’s been so bad all day and I’ve had to constantly yell at people to do their jobs properly because apparently they’re all incompetent idiots that don’t know their elbows from their arse!”

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh a little at your choice of words but quickly shut up when you shot her a glare - of course the glare had been in no way intimidating with your sleepy eyes and runny nose, but she got the hint regardless.

“Sounds rough sunshine.” She murmured, sympathetically rubbing your back before the two of you began to walk towards another aisle, “Let me get those for you, oh and the car?” She asked, realising you hadn’t explained.

Nat took the basket from your hand and put it in her cart despite your objections, “It just decided to give up on me, right in the middle of driving home. I text Tony and he said he’d get it moved tomorrow but then my phone died before I could call an uber so I had to walk the way back.” You coughed harshly as you explained what had happened, rubbing your throat with a whine.

“That’s some awful luck sweetheart, I’m sorry. How about we get you a few things and just spend the rest of the day being warm and cosy?” Nat offered as a pulled a stuffed animal from the shelf, nuzzling it against your cheek before putting it into the cart.

Your face lightened up a little and you found yourself keeping a little closer to her as the pair of you continued through the store, “You wanna get some ice cream for that poor throat of yours sweet girl?” She asked, but of course she already what the answer would be.

As you nodded eagerly, Natasha smiled, glad to see a hint of brightness returning to your expression. She led you to the freezer section, picking out your favourite flavour without hesitation. "Here we go," she said, placing it gently in the cart beside you. "Oh, and we should get some tea as well, all we have is that herbal stuff Wanda likes but it’s kinda bitter, you’ll feel better with something sweeter. I think.”

She kept her hand softly holding your own you both headed over to find the tea - occasionally pausing as Nat picked up some of the general groceries you needed but it was hard to miss how she kept adding in small treats for you along the way, your favourite drink, snacks she even chose your favourite scent of laundry detergent.

Eventually your fever raging brain felt too fuzzy to keep paying attention, so you switched off, trusting her enough to let her lead you along without asking questions.

Her voice seemed to echo and your vision blur before a hand cupping your cheek brought you back to reality. “Hey, earth to Y/N.” Natasha repeated herself, “You dazed out for a second there sweetie. Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh, no, sorry.” You answered sheepishly, warm embarrassment creeping up into your cheeks.

But Nat only smiled at you, her warm gaze making you relax, “I asked what tea you’d like baby.”

You nodded and turned to look over the assortment of boxes. You weren’t much of a tea person, in fact you never really drank it at all unless you were sick and Nat was definitely more of a coffee girl, herself. As you looked over the selection, a sudden sneeze caught you off guard, you stumbled back a little and bumped into Nat which made your girlfriend shake her head fondly as you sniffled in surprise.

“Bless you again. Looks like we’ll need some more tissues," She deducted, kissing your cheek swiftly before jogging back to the previous aisle, quickly returning with a few extra boxes and added them to the cart.

"You poor thing," Nat said sympathetically, as she opened one of the boxes in the cart and handing you a tissue. "Here, blow your nose love.”

“Thanks.”

“Berry-Bliss?” She read the name of the tea you’d chosen, after you’d finished blowing nose. “Is that one the kind you want?”

You shrugged sluggishly, biting back a groan as your muscles ached, “I’ll give it a try.”

“Worth a try.” She agreed, taking the box from you, not missing the chance to kiss your forehead as she did so. “You’re really warm baby. How about we pay up and get you back home sweetheart? I know you’re exhausted.”

As she suggested heading home, you nodded gratefully, taking her hand and letting her lead you towards the check outs. It wouldn’t take long to pay and get home but when you did, you knew you were in for an evening of cuddling and love.

Who could ask for more?

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d6volution · 8 months

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Melatonin

Jax/Reader Fic. [Fem aligned reader.]

Heavy explicit content. | 1k words.

[Also found on my Ao3]

minors dni.

Jax sighs, his iconic smile briefly dropping as he stared at your tense figure, "C'mon toots, relax. You'll never get any sleep like this y'know." A gloved finger lifted your chin to face him, "Trust meee. You'll be finee." He cooed in a somewhat teasing voice, before dropping his hand and pushing your shoulders gently, allowing gravity to take over and your body to hit the plush bed beneath you. He crawled atop your smaller form, and sometimes you forget just how tall he is. You swear you see a devious glint in this eye for a moment.. You hesitated.

"I-It's not that, Jax we barely know each other and-" Words fumbled from your lips, until he shushed you, his finger touching your lips. "Ah- ah," He tuts. "Just.. see this as an exchange between two friends, yeah? A little.. help gettin' ya to sleep. That's all." He spoke while his opposing hand shoved the strap of his overalls down from his body, and they fell seamlessly. "Alright?" His words were so smooth and voice like honey, you nodded and briefly looked up at the ceiling, trying to calm your mind until- *Plop*, something heavy fell onto your stomach and you felt heat creeping up to your cheeks, a small squeak escaping your lips. You swallowed hard, "Ya gonna stare at the ceiling all night?"

His voice broke you out of your previous stupor , his hips moved grinding his already semi-hard shaft against your stomach. His smile returned, wide and mocking as he watched you glance down at his dick. "Impressed? Maybe the devs are a bunch of perverts who knows-" His hand grabbed your left breast and began kneading, his body hunching over yours. Mouth closing in on your ear, "Ah , well- let's put on a show for 'em."

your stomach was doing flips.

Before you could speak Jax flipped you over, "Oof! Jax, wa--" You protested, but only for a moment as one of his hands shoved your head into the pillow, the other looping beneath your waist and dragging you upwards, forcing your body to arch against him, "Thaaats more like it. All this talkin' is making me impatient, just let me do my thing and I promise you''ll be in dream land in no time." You could feel his eyes boring into your back, his eyes narrowing as he pushed aside the silly garb covering your wet snatch, "Heh. And here I was thinkin' you were being shy or something, good thing your bodys bein' more honestly with me dollface."

Hell. His words were only making this worse, embarrassment seeped into your core, "J-Just quit talking and do it alrea- Nngh!!" His thick shaft forced its way past your gummy walls until he was buried to the hilt, his hands gripping your hips as he sighed in relief, holding you in place as he bottomed out. "Hha... mmn, were you sayin something toots? Nnh, yeah.. keep clenching on me just like that," You whined and nuzzled the pillow, you could feel your insides spasming around him. You were sure this place made you feel far more sensitive than you felt did in the outside world. "J..Jax I feel.. nnh.."

"Uh, huh I know, I know-- you'll get use to it. In fact I think you'll love it," His hips began to move, he pulled out until just his tip was teasing at your entrance. Then he slammed back in with even more force than before, you cried out his name and his hand forced your head back into the pillow. "Aah. not too loud, you don't want your new friends to hear you gettin f&%cked into the mattress on your first night do ya?" He picked up a rhythm now, hips slapping agianst yours, every so often he'd grip the plush of your hips and pull you closer. "N-No.. I.." Your words were muffled, "Can't hear ya sweetness," His fingers lost themselves in your hair and yanked your head back, "Repeat that for me will ya?" He asked, hips still rocking you both, "I-I don't want them to hea- Aaah!!" He purposely thrusted sharply against your sweet-spot, causing you to see stars.

"Mmnh, right there huh?" He chuckled against your ear and released your hair, causing you to fall back against the pillow. "Guess, I'll focus there," He muttered and picked up the pace, focusing on the spot that caused you to moan so sweetly before. The tip of dick battering into your g-spot as you squirmed and whined beneath him. Biting the pillow to hide your embarrassing moans, "J-Just like that, keep takin' it.." He huffed and panted above you, a gloved hand swatting your ass for the heck of it. "Eep!" He noticed how you clenched down on him whenever he slapped your ass. He couldn't help but laugh, "Cl-Close.. Jax.. I'm..!" He smirked, "Already? Fine." He almost sounded just as annoyed as he sounded amused.. Except, he pulled out. "Wha.." You lifted your head from the pillows, in a daze. "Why'd you.."

"Relax, would ya?" He rolled his eyes and flipped back onto your back, grabbing your legs and folding you like pretzel as he slammed back into your needy core. Hitting your cunt even deeper this time, fucking your smaller shape into the mattress, he grunted into your ear and you moaned into his in tandem, "Please.. please..!" You didn't know what you were begging for , but Jax still answered your cries, a hand reaching down to rub quick circles onto your clit. "C'monn.. that's right, let go.." He almost growled into your ear as hips were moving like a blur now. You couldn't take it and cried out his name in pleasure, back arching against him and cunt spasming around his dick. His own hips stuttered due to the vice grip around him, "Ahh.." He sighed, releasing inside of you and allowing his weight to hold you down until he finished spilling into you. "Heh." He pulled out and took a step back from the bed to admire his work. Your body was sprawled out on the bed, chest heaving as your eyes remained half lidded. "Sleepy.." You muttered.

"'Course you are." He fixed himself up and pulled up his overalls. If you were able to look him over, you would have noticed he didn't seem to break a sweat. "Sweet dreams, toots." A familiar key swung around his finger as he strutted out the door, locking it behind him so no one would walk in and find you asleep half naked.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc jax #smut #minors dni #the amazing digital circus jax #jax x reader

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fireflysummers · 10 months

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Good Omens S2

Okay so.

Excellent Job, Gaiman

Ouch???

I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.

But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).

It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.

And it's slow.

Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.

Anyways.

Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.

I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.

I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.

I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.

I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.

On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.

And Crowley. Dear Crowley.

He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.

Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.

Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.

It won't be permanent.

But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.

Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.

I want Aziraphale to get angry.

He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.

I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.

But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.

For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.

For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.

For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.

And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #long post #text #religious trauma #religious abuse #recovery

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serverusslaype · 1 month

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Shameless, pt. 16

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

not another one... oh yes it is... and please, respectfully, strap yourselves in cos it's gonna be a ROUGH RIDE. and not in the way you're thinking, sorry, but get your minds out the gutters. gosh.

in other news, i hope you're all doing okay. part 17 won't be for a while as i'm back to work tomorrow and i'm going to be tired because i stupidly ruined my sleeping schedule the past few days. massive L.

i hope you've all had a brilliant day, and thank you so much for all the love and kind, sweet comments you left on part 15, it really made my day when i read through them this morning :') i'll reply to them all when i have some extra time this week!! <3 remember to take care of yourselves, please. and enjoy this. <3

warnings: swearing, slight altercation?, angst

A pair of cold hands grasped your scarlet cheeks, forcing you to look up and into their eyes in a desperate manner. "Bloody hell, Y/N," Remus whispered, his face twisting into an anxious mix of worry and concern. Gradually, you let your tearful eyes slink up meet his own, and another sob fell from your quivering lips. "I should have stayed, I'm so sorry." He sighed. You watched as his brows slipped together; hazel eyes flicking between yours as he brushed his thumbs gently against the apples of your cheeks.

"It's not your fault, Remus, please-" You shook your head viciously and squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall forwards.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Remus asked, his voice soft as a feather, cautious not to startle you.

"Yes- no, I... my shoulder, it hurts," You whined and winced as you lifted your head up to lean back against the cabinets of your kitchenette behind you. Another intense, piercing pain shot through your shoulder. "Fuck!" You hissed. Remus cast a furious glance in the direction of Ben's unconscious body.

"We're going to have to take you to Madam Pomfrey, Y/N," the professor sighed quietly, "I'm afraid Dumbledore will need to hear of this... matter." Instantly, your eyes darted to Remus and you sucked in a breath.

"No, I'm fine, honestly- please," you shook your head, "there's no point, I won't be here after he wakes up anyway." A defeated sigh left your lips as you let your eyes slide to where Ben laid, the burning words that he'd spat at you like vicious venom replayed in your head on repeat.

"What do you mean?" Remus frowned at you.

"He found out about Severus." A dry, pathetic laugh slipped from you. "He figured it out."

"What-" Though, before Remus could even finish his question, you interrupted him.

"He went through my drawers in my greenhouse."

"I'm not following." The professor offered you an apologetic, yet perplexed look.

You inhaled a deep, slow breath through your nose. "Severus had been leaving me notes everytime he'd taken something from my cabinets, be it asphodel roots or dittany.. so, in my pathetic way, I... kept them." You muttered, reluctantly glancing up at Remus, watching his eyes soften. You looked away, unable to stomach how he looked at you with pity. "In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have, but I was blinded by my feelings for him, and so... then when I had first started seeing Ben, he had also left me notes. But, of course, I didn't really care for him the same way I did Severus, so I shoved them at the bottom of my drawers, beneath..." You trailed off, unable to finish your thoughts. You felt so silly, pathetic.

"I see." Remus said softly, noting how you were struggling. His gentle voice silently soothed your racing mind.

You took a few seconds to speak your next words, still unable to understand the gravity of the situation you'd put yourself in. In fact, it felt like you didn't even want to acknowledge it. "Ben threatened to have me fired, and then blacklisted for every job in this area. So, Remus, I'm screwed, to say the least."

The professor paused for a moment, pondering on his thoughts. You were praying he'd speak soon before you went insane from the way your mind was beginning to chaotically brew up storms of worst case scenarios.

"Not quite," Remus's lips quirked up into a small, comforting smile. You could only frown at him in utter confusion. "It's not the most... erm, ...humane way of solving such a problem, however it is the only way." Your eyes widened at his choice of words.

"Remus, you're scaring me, what on Earth are you suggesting?" You whispered, eyebrows furrowing together in what could only be described as fear.

"We're going to need the help of another wizard, I'm afraid." He replied and stood up, groaning a tad. "Ever heard of the spell, Obliviate?"

The damp stench of the dungeons of Hogwarts was wildly familiar and a little emotionally testing for you as you stumbled down the corridors with Remus; his hand placed caringly upon your back. The amber glow of the lit torches illuminated the darkened path, and the quiet squelch of the wet, mossy floor echoed throughout the empty corridors as the two of you padded towards Snape's classroom.

"I'm sorry to have to put you through this." Remus mumbled from beside you, and you felt his fingers press into the back of you. "But Severus is the only wizard I know that's meddled with minds here at Hogwarts."

"It's alright." You swallowed awkwardly as the anxious and speedy beats of your heart began to pound in your ears once more. "He never liked Ben, so I'm sure he'll take great pride in performing such a spell on him." You joked dryly, earning a curt laugh from the professor beside you. A little smile formed on your lips at the sound of it.

"Even in dark times, your brilliant humour shines through." Remus hummed, offering a warm smile as he glanced down at you.

There was a moment of silence as you let yourself wander through the labyrinth of your mind.

"Do you think it will work?"

"Absolutely," Remus answered quickly, "though Severus and I have never truly seen eye to eye, I still acknowledge the fact that he's an incredibly accomplished wizard." He said, shrugging. "I haven't met many other wizards in my time that have come close to his abilities."

You let his words simmer in your brain for a moment, and suddenly you felt a little more at ease. Not that you doubted Severus, but from what Lupin had explained about the Obliviate spell, you were slightly worried. Would Ben remember something and come back with a vengeance? No, there was no way... right? He's not that... petty.

Before you could even finish your train of thought, three loud knocks from Remus's knuckles broke you from your daydream.

Almost immediately you wanted to run away from the door in front of you. But from the way Remus's hand was glued to your back stopped you from doing so.

The door to Severus's classroom creaked open, and all of the blood from your body felt as if it had drained away the moment the two of you locked eyes.

"Severus," Remus greeted quietly.

"Y/N." Severus muttered, his tone confused as his eyes snapped to Lupin beside you, and then down to his arm around your back. A short, sharp exhale of breath left his nostrils, and you knew that he wasn't too pleased about what he was seeing. "Lupin..." He drawled as he flicked his eyes back to yours, then to Remus's own. "What brings you here?" His voice was agitated, nothing new. You let your eyes fall away from the Potions Master, unable to look at him without having some sort of whirlwind of emotions stir up inside of you.

"May we come in? It's a matter of urgency." The professor beside you spoke with a serious tone that forced a curious frown to appear on Severus's pale face. Without saying anything, Severus moved aside in one swift motion and allowed his door to creak further open, silently inviting you and Remus inside.

Had it been just Lupin here, you knew he wouldn't have been so trusting.

Glancing up, you caught Severus's eye again, and that wave of gut-wrenching yearning had returned to your heart. As you looked away, you didn't see the way his eyes softened at you, wordlessly wishing he could return to the way the two of you had been.

Lupin guided you inside with his arm, earning another harsh glare from Snape as he passed by him. "Take a seat, Y/N." The shaggy professor mumbled, pulling out a stool for you to perch on. You obliged, of course.

"What do you so desperately need from me?" Snape drawled, sweeping his way towards you and Lupin; his biting glare quite obviously screaming at you to hurry up and talk. Wasn't it so kind of him to treat you like you were some sort of irritating insect, and not someone he cared about, albeit a little?

You clenched your jaw, swallowing as you opened your mouth to speak, but Lupin beat you to it. "Bluewater threatened to have her fired and blacklisted from every job in the area." Severus's black brows immediately shot together in confusion, then quickly softened, quite obviously realising why he'd demand such a thing. "If she is to keep her job and reputation, we need you to perform the memory erasing spell on him."

Of course, Severus would do anything for you, at this point, he'd kill for you. So killing the memories of a man he truly loathed was an easy ask.

"Done." The Potions Master cast a concerned glance at you, before looking back to Lupin. "Truth be told, it'd be my pleasure." Again, Severus looked back at you with his worrisome black eyes, staring, swiftly scattering themselves over your form; quietly trying to figure out whether you were hurt or not.

You noticed his quiet inspection. "I'm fine." You mumbled, sighing softly as you avoided his eyes once more, shuffling in your seat - but as you moved, your face twitched into a wince as your injured shoulder betrayed you.

"Yes, clearly you are." Severus muttered sarcastically as he padded towards you, reluctantly lifting a hand toward your arm. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you blinked at him, your jaw ticking with either anxiety or anger - you couldn't figure out which. "May I?" He whispered.

You gave a nod and turned your torso towards him, allowing him to inspect your injury. The second his fingers touched your skin, it ignited like a wildfire. You inhaled sharply, your body freezing at the way he trailed them down to your shoulder.

"I'll be outside." Remus muttered, noticing that perhaps the two of you need to be alone. He shuffled his way towards the door, and slipped out of it, the quiet thud and click of the handle signifying he'd left.

"Did he do this to you?" Severus muttered through gritted teeth, brushing his thumb over the colourful blotch that was beginning to appear upon the skin he used to worship. He hissed at the sight of your bruised skin, it was like someone had ruined a beautiful painting and thrown some sort of hideous concoction onto it.

He should have known better than to abandon you like that. Bluewater had always been a wildcard. He should have stayed by your side, he shouldn't have let his emotions get the better of him like he always did. Maybe then you wouldn't have this... abomination painting your flesh black and blue. Severus would never forgive himself for falling into the foolish trap of his insecurities. He'd never forgive himself for ever listening to the deranged demons that resided within his mind, silently calling him into the darkness; their devilish, silver tongues persuading him to fade into the lonely void.

You and Severus sat in silence for a moment, and your eyes had been glued to the ground ever since the Potions Master laid his hands on you. If you looked into his eyes whilst he was so close to you, you weren't exactly sure if you could stop yourself from doing something utterly stupid.

"Where is he?" Severus suddenly mumbled, a burning hot fire of rage and vengeance was quickly spreading throughout his body.

"My chambers, but-"

"Stay here." Severus immediately began to storm towards the door of his classroom, his long black cape billowing behind him with a vengeance that matched its wearer.

"Severus, don't hurt him!" You cried out, leaning forwards to try and grab his arm. You gasped as your injured shoulder unleashed an unbearable pain across your back, making you squeeze your eyes shut in agony.

"Don't hurt him? Look at what he's done to you!" Severus whipped around, furious. "You can barely move your shoulder without wincing like a wounded deer!" He stormed back towards you, and for the first time in a while, the irate look in his eyes truly frightened you. If looks could kill, you'd be dead on the ground. Though, he was not angry at you, his anger was only focused on one man.

"I don't care! Think about what could happen to you if the Ministry found out you harmed one of their own!" You exclaimed, praying that Severus would see through his blinding anger and choose to not do something foolish to Ben, despite how fierce his wrath was.

Severus paused for a moment as if to contemplate your words - though his consideration of your opinion was cut short as he whipped around once more; that vicious fire exploding inside of him like a deadly inferno. He was truly devoted to the thought of inflicting more harm than necessary to Bluewater.

At this point, you couldn't stop him. There was no way you could follow him with your injury. You watched on helplessly as he sweeped out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him. There was only one other person that could help you.

"Remus!" You yelled, cursing your weakened shoulder as you stood, breathing sharply in a dire attempt to lessen the pain that was slowly burning its way through your torso. "Remus!" You yelled once more, and immediately the door swung open, his familiar face adorned with an utterly worried look.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, quickly rushing over to you.

"It's Severus, he's gone to find Ben, you need to stop him, please," You panted, desperately grabbing onto the the material of his suit jacket that sat on his bicep. "I don't want him to do something he'll regret."

"Merlin," Remus muttered and nodded, turning swiftly to rush after the Potions Master. "Will you be alright?" He stopped to ask, running a stressed hand through his hair.

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine, now, please just go!" You sighed heavily and leaned against a table beside you, hissing as your shoulder was now screaming at you in horrific pain. You were truly starting to worry now, had you fractured it- or broken it? Ben had shoved you quite harshly...

Your eyes darted around Severus's classroom, lingering on the potion ingredients that lined the wall. The only thing you could do was wait.

Or potentially brew a potion to help your agonising pain...

Severus's thunderous footsteps echoed hauntingly throughout the castle corridors as he stormed his way to your chambers; his fingers twitching at his sides, eagerly awaiting the chance to lay his hands upon Bluewater, the way he did to you.

That rotten bastard, Severus thought, he could kill him without a second thought right now. In fact, in the very back of the Potion Master's mind, he was truly considering it. The only thing Severus wanted to hear right now was Bluewater's bloodcurdling screams as he made him suffer through either physical or mental hell. All he had to do was lock the door, cast muffliato, and go to town. That was all too tempting for Snape. It was too easy. And that's what scared him.

As he neared your chambers, a stream of warm light began to pour out from underneath the door, and Severus deduced that Ben had awoken from Remus's spell. He quickly softened his footsteps and snuck towards your door, donning his wand in his hand. There was two ways he could go about this - he could barge in and surprise the bastard, or he could do it quietly. Perhaps the latter would be a little less idiotic.

Severus pushed your door open gradually with his hand, cautiously moving forwards as he pointed his wand into your chambers. A pained groan came from the floor, and the professor cast his eyes downwards and was met with an embarrassing mess shuffling around on it. Just the back of his head sent Severus into an blinding furious spiral, and he stormed towards him, grabbing the back of his top to hoist him upwards onto his feet.

"Get th'fuck offa' me!" Bluewater drawled, still groggy from Remus's spell as he pathetically tried to fight the Potion Master's hand that had a hold of his flimsy shirt. Relentlessly, Snape dragged him through the room, the scratching sound of Bluewater's shoes scraping across the wooden floor and Snape's pounding footsteps filled the silence. He yanked the boy upwards and dropped him on his arse, watching in delight as a pained look flashed across his face.

"Watch your mouth, Bluewater," Snape snarled, poking the tip of his wand into his neck, earning a glare from the boy.

"You." Bluewater spat, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "You sonuva' bitch! You slimy fuckin' bastard, how dare you-"

"How dare I? How dare you lay a finger on her!" Snape bellowed at Bluewater, his teeth bared in a ferociously fearsome scowl.

"I never touched her." Bluewater's lips quirked into a vile smirk, and this only fuelled Snape's burning hatred for the boy. Without a second thought, he kicked the side of Bluewater, sending him tumbling onto his side, screeching in pain.

"Don't lie to me, Bluewater!" Snape growled as he fisted the front of his shirt, pulling him up to his towering height, the tips of his toes barely grazing the floor.

"You miserable git," The boy hissed through gritted teeth as he had one hand glued to his throbbing side. "She'll never work again, Snape. All because of you."

"Don't push me, you foolish boy." Snape huffed, his chest heaving uncontrollably as his anger got the best of him.

"In fact, neither will you." Bluewater added, his tone cocky and ignorant. Snape couldn't control himself any longer, and so he threw the boy to the ground again rather harshly, forcing a cry of pain from him. He felt nothing. Nothing but hot rage.

"Severus!" Remus suddenly called out from behind him, panting. "Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand fell to the ground.

Remus felt his blood run cold as Snape turned to look at him with a face like a maddened bull. "Just... calm down, Severus, take a moment," The professor said softly, holding out a hand to try and defuse the situation. As he stared at the furious Potions Master, he was sure he could see red-hot steam pouring out of his ears. "You don't want to do this, Severus. Believe me." Snape's shoulders rose and fell rigidly as he looked on in disbelief at Lupin. "Y/N wouldn't want this."

Your name rolled off of Lupin's tongue like a bullet into Severus's chest.

"You must've drugged her," Bluewater spoke again, his voice making Snape's eye twitch, "there's no way in hell that she'd choose to be with you. She hates you. The amount of shit we used to talk about you, Merlin..." The boy knew he was getting underneath Snape's skin.

"Severus," Remus tried again helplessly. "Don't react."

"Silence!" Snape practically snarled at Bluewater as the seething blaze inside of him ignited once more.

"You don't deserve her, and you never will. You really think she'd fall for some ugly, pathetic and old git like you? Perhaps all that time in the potion classroom made you delusional." Bluewater spat, shuffling forwards on the ground. "You should ask her about what happened earlier, between us, I bet you'd-"

"Stupefy!" Remus yelled, aiming his wand at Bluewater, watching as his body fell limp once more.

Snape stared at Ben's unconscious body, his mind suddenly becoming a warzone after his last words before Remus had knocked him out. What happened earlier between you and Ben? Were his thoughts true? Was Bluewater right? Did you hate him?

"Severus,"

"What?!" Snape hissed, turning to face Lupin with a hideous look upon his face. Lupin offered an apologetic cock of his head, before nodding at Bluewater.

"The memories..." Remus muttered. Snape clenched his jaw at the words.

Memories. Right.

The Potions Master slowly padded over to Bluewater, pointing his wand at his temple. He paused for a moment, contemplating his next move.

"Legilimens." Snape whispered, shutting his eyes as he delved into Bluewater's memories. Snippets of him as a child, happy and screaming with laughter flashed before Snape's eyes, and so he continued deeper, watching the moment he met you in the pub, and when you spent the first night together. The professor hissed at the sight as a pang of hurt and jealousy struck him in his chest. He pushed through, skimming through more and more memories, finally finding the one thing he was looking for. It was you and Ben, sharing a glass of wine in your bedroom earlier on.

He'd stood up and stumbled towards you, clearly drunk. "I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing it with his thumb.

"Yeah." You'd replied. Severus felt his heart drop at this point.

Slowly, Ben crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Severus felt his skin suddenly ignite with jealousy. "Ben.." You warned, sighing.

"Whaat?" Ben had whispered back, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. He began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

Severus watched on in horror as you shut your eyes. Ben's fingers lingered along the backs of your soft thighs, pulling a breathy sigh from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing into your flesh.

Immediately, Severus pulled out of Ben's mind. He couldn't watch anymore. He was right. Merlin, he was right. For a moment, he inhaled sharply, quickly regaining his composure. "Obliviate." He muttered swiftly, filtering through Ben's memories and erasing every single one that contained you or Severus.

"A job well done." Remus said awkwardly as he watched Severus sheath his wand. He frowned as he stared at the back of the raven-haired wizard, silently pondering why he hadn't moved. He stood there for another good few seconds, staring wordlessly at Ben's unconscious body. Then suddenly, he spun on his heel, storming past Remus and shouldering him rather harshly. He couldn't bear to look at anyone that reminded him of you, and unfortunately for Remus, he fell under that now.

He berated himself for even letting himself get so close to you. How could he have done this to himself? Of course you didn't just want him. He was just some sort of... twisted fantasy to you. And yet, he was still willing to help you get out of this mess. That's the undeniable power of love, he supposed.

Once you were free, he'd let you go.

As Severus walked away, he could hear Remus calling his name, but he turned a blind eye and focused on marching back to his domain, the one place he felt at home, even though it used to be your arms.

You coughed and sputtered as the smoke from the cauldron in front of you began to get a little too thick, lining your lungs with what felt like some sort of tar. Perhaps you added a little too much puffer-fish. It did smell a little... oceany. A defeated groan left your lips as you let your head hit the table - after all these years you still royally fucked up potions. Severus wasn't going to be too happy that you'd burned another one of his precious cauldrons.

Suddenly, the slam of a door caught you offguard and you jumped at the loud noise, whipping around to see a rather distraught-looking Snape. That was not what you were hoping for.

"Severus? Everything okay?..." You swallowed, watching as he slowly stalked towards you, completely ignoring the burning smell of the cauldron in front of you. He didn't answer you. "Did you manage to erase them? The memories?" You tried again.

"Yes." Was all he said, his eyes burning into yours with what felt like sorrow.

"What happened?"

"Why did you lie to me?" He suddenly asked, catching you offguard.

"What?"

"You were going to stay with him." He stated matter of factly, his voice quivering a tad as he tried to hide the indescribable hurt that was undoubtedly going to eat him alive.

"That's not true, Severus." You shook your head, your brows knitting together in a wild mix of confusion and hurt. His jaw clenched at your words.

"Do not lie to me!" Severus bellowed, sweeping away from you. You flinched at the volume of his voice.

"I'm not!" You cried out, attempting to follow him as he made his way to his desk. "Severus!" You cried again, making him whip around to face you, his eyes overflowing with hurt and misdirected anger.

"I do not have time for liars, Y/N."

"Severus, just please, explain what happened!"

"What happened between you and Bluewater earlier?" He inhaled with the same sharpness that pierced his chest as he spoke those nightmarish words.

Gods, how did he know about that? Ben must have said something to get back at him. You cursed the little bastard, but at the same time, this was also your doing. You gave into the selfish pleasure.

"He just kissed my neck, that was it, I promise." You said slowly, praying he'd believe you. Severus stared down at you, unwavering, his eyes glossing over. Your heart broke at the sight.

Perhaps you deserved this.

Severus paused for a moment, letting his black eyes study your petrified face. Clearly, you were terrified of losing him. He could see it in your eyes. That broke him. But it did not break him as much as the hellish thing he saw in Bluewater's mind. "I can't trust you."

This was your karma.

It suddenly felt as if the floor had given way beneath your feet. Your knees went weak, and all trace of feeling in your body went numb like you'd been paralysed. "No, Severus- please, you have to believe me-"

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Severus turned away from you as he felt a wave of unruly sadness and betrayal wash over him - something he hadn't felt in years. You desperately grasped onto his arm, the rough, black material beneath your fingers felt so uncomfortably familiar - and now it was going to be something you could only remember. "Let me go, please." The crack in Severus's voice made you release your grip.

This was it. He was really ending things between you two, for real.

"No," You sobbed. The pain from your shoulder injury felt like a pinprick compared to what you were feeling now. "Sev, please." Your cries broke his heart, and all he wanted to do was cradle you in his arms, and tell you everything was going to be okay - but he couldn't do that. Not now. Not ever.

You watched as his head raised upwards, his back still towards you. "Leave me, now, Y/N." Severus muttered and a trace of venom lingered in his words.

Without another word you left, making a straight beeline for Remus Lupin, wherever he was.

angst is my middle name, guys, i can't get enough of it. HA

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wolfjackle-creates · 2 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 5

So it's been about 3 weeks since my promised update. Oops. Main issue was breaking my first bone as I'm sure most of you saw. On my right wrist, of course. And being right handed, meant I could barely type for that first week.

But also this is a transition section of the story. And I was struggling with how to best write said transition. I am finally happy with it, though. To make up for being so late, this is a long one! Hope you enjoy. The total word count for this arc is now up to 9.6k. Do with that as you will.

Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.

Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: AO3; Tumblr - First, Last

Arc 3: First, Previous

Word Count: 3.6k (Told you it was a long one!)

-----

Pain was a constant through the rest of that never-ending drive. Danny would wake screaming from the nightmares only to continue screaming from the pain.

Tim was there every time. His words were soft and soothing, even when Danny couldn’t make out their meaning between the throbbing of his human chest and aching core. Any time he woke, Tim did his best to force ectoplasm and liquid foods down his throat. If Danny couldn’t manage even that much, he was given more of Frostbite’s ice chips.

When they finally, finally stopped for the last time, Danny cried in relief. Kon carried him out of the van, a blanket under him as a makeshift stretcher. TTK meant that he was held perfectly flat even though Kon was only holding one end.

Tim’s worried face peered down at him. “Kon’s going to fly you up, okay? I’ll let you in through the window. I’ve disabled all cameras, so no one will see you.”

Danny think he nodded. He wanted to. He must’ve done something because Tim brushed his fingers across Danny’s forehead, nodded, and disappeared from view. Then Danny was leaving the van. For the first time in Clockwork only knew how long. It was daytime, but the sky was overcast and gray.

When Kon flew with him, it wasn’t the weightlessness of his own flight. Instead, he felt like they were fighting gravity. He hated it.

But it was only the matter of a few moments before they approached an open window and Kon carried him in. He was in too much pain to take in most of the room, but he did see a TV bigger than any he’d seen outside of Sam’s home theater.

Kon didn’t stop, and he was carried into another room—a bedroom As they approached the bed, the sheets folded back on their own. Kon set him down as gently as possible, but pain shot up from his chest at even the slight change of position.

He stopped breathing, even the movements of his lungs were too much. Instead he just let the pain wash over him. Wave after wave of it. Vaguely, he was aware of someone grabbing his hand, of voices above him.

Gloved hands pressed something cold to his lips and Danny gratefully took the ice and the numbing coolness it promised. Not enough for full relief, nothing could give that right now. But by the time it was gone, he could at least think through the pain.

This time when he opened his eyes, he saw Tim’s worried face, Kon standing behind him.

“Back with us?” asked Tim.

Danny grimaced and nodded. He tried a shallow breath. It hurt, but he could somewhat function through it. “Sorry.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear apologies from you for at least a month. This isn’t your fault.”

“Sorry,” Danny repeated.

Tim just huffed. “How’s the bed? Do you need anything? Extra pillows?”

Danny bit his lip and let himself feel. The bed was soft. As far from the feel of the exam table as it was possible to be. It was also leagues better than the camping mattress he’d been using in the van. Honestly, it was probably better than his mattress back home. And the pillow was the perfect height for lying on his back. “It’s good.”

The look Tim gave him made Danny think he wasn’t believed, but after a moment Tim just nodded. “If you’re sure. Now, Kon and I are going to have to change your bandages and reapply the necessary creams and poultices. After, I want you to try and eat a little more.”

Danny groaned, already dreading the procedure. But it had to be done. He ignored the tears he couldn’t stop and met Tim’s eyes. “Just do it.”

Kon grimaced. “I’ll make it quick.”

Danny tried to smile back but he knew he failed when neither Kon nor Tim looked any less concerned. “I know. Thanks.”

And it was true. Kon’s TTK made the process so much easier that it would have been otherwise. However, there was no way to make it entirely painless. Especially when removing the final layer. Danny couldn’t keep from crying out as the gauze stuck to his wounds. Finally, his chest was bared to the world. Danny trembled with the pain of it before gathering his courage and looking down.

This was his first time seeing his chest since he’d been pulled out of the lab. The incisions were inflamed and leaking, though they were already scabbing over. Green ectoplasm and red blood mingled in the secretions.

Tim and Kon didn’t wait for him to catalog every mark, however. They quickly passed jars of Frostbite’s concoctions to each other and set to work covering every area of his chest. Cold spread in the wake of their ministrations and Danny nearly wept in relief.

“This is already looking better, Danny,” said Tim.

Danny scoffed, then winced as it pulled at the injuries. He clenched his eyes shut as he reminded his body he didn’t need to breathe.

“He’s right,” said Kon. “I don’t think even I’d be healing this quickly from injuries like yours.”

Danny didn’t say anything as they continued to work. When they were done with the medications, Kon reapplied the bandages. Tim gave him another piece of ice which Danny took with relief.

Danny mumbled a thanks around the ice.

“Anytime,” said Kon. “Mind if I take a picture of you so everyone can see you’re safe in Gotham now? Sam’s been texting me non-stop asking for updates.”

Sam’s concern is what finally allowed Danny to smile for the first time since he’d returned home and his parents had learned his secret. “Pull up the sheet first. And just to her and Tuck and Jazz, please. I don’t want your entire team to see me like this.”

“’Course,” agreed Kon. Without Kon moving at all, the sheet rose up out of the blankets at the base of the bed and covered him up to his neck. Kon then took out his phone and snapped a photo before tapping at the screen.

Immediately it started ringing in his hands.

“Are you up for talking to them?” asked Tim.

Danny shook his head. “Want to, can’t.”

Kon waved him off. “I’ll tell them what’s up. Eat something and get some sleep.” Kon turned away. As he left the room, Danny hear him answer the phone with a, “Hey, babe,” before he shut the door, muffling all noise.

“Yogurt, applesauce, or pudding?” asked Tim once they were alone.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. And another vial of ectoplasm.”

Danny sighed and asked for the applesauce. He only managed a few bites alternated with sips of ectoplasm before darkness pulled him under once more.

---

A throbbing pain slowly dragged him out of the blackness. He tried to cling to unconsciousness, but the throbbing was inescapable. With a quiet moan, he blinked awake in a dark room. For once, he was able to think past the pain. It was a constant, throbbing presence, but not as all consuming as it had been.

The mattress he was lying on was soft. So, so different to the hard table that had been his bed for those long hours in the lab. He twisted his head and rotated his jaw, relieved when the action wasn’t hindered by harsh restraints.

He was in Gotham, out of their reach. Tim was here and he was safe.

He was safe from his parents. His parents had— had— Danny’s breath caught and he couldn’t finish the thought. He pulled in a gasping breath. The ball in the back of his throat made it so hard to breathe.

He’d just… never thought they’d actually do it. He’d been so sure that once they realized who he was, they’d hug him and continue to love him. He couldn’t hold back the sob, loud in the silent room. His eyes burned and he didn’t even try to stop the tears.

Next to him, on the floor, blankets rustled and Danny tensed.

“Danny?” asked a sleepy voice from the floor. Tim was here?

“Sorry,” choked out Danny through ragged breaths. He was safe. His parents hated him. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“Don’t be.” The mattress dipped next to him as Tim sat down. “It’d be weird if you didn’t have a few breakdowns.”

“What’s going to happen to them?” Danny tried to wrap his arms around himself, but cried out at even the light pressure on his chest.

Tim pushed aside the thin sheet he’d been covered in and grabbed one of his hands. Danny clung to him until the sharp pain faded. And when it did, his breathing was more normal. His core still ached at the thought of his parents, but the physical pain had helped chase away the panic attack. At least for now.

“What��s going to happen to them?” he asked again; this time his voice was more stable.

“They’ve been picked up by the Justice League. Tucker is helping with getting all their files transferred to document their history. Jazz and Sam have been giving reports on their behavior, lab and home safety measures, and their actions. Others have begun questioning the general public on Amity. There’s currently a few magic users there trying to determine if they can shut down the portal.”

Something in Danny screamed out at the idea of the portal being gone and he tensed. “No! They can’t shut it down! Please, you can’t. It’s— I— you can’t.”

“What? What are you talking about? We have to at least look for a way to shut it down!”

He was crying. Why was he crying. “You can’t,” Danny repeated. “If it’s gone…” he trailed off. Why did he feel so strongly about this? The portal had done nothing but cause him problems since it had turned on. “I died there. I died for it,” he whispered. Something in him knew it was important. His ghost half refused to accept that the portal could just disappear. “If it’s gone, if it can just be turned off, what was it all for?”

And even that wasn’t the full story. The portal was his parents’ life work. It was the thing they spent time working on. It was what stole them away from Danny and Jazz. They missed Jazz’s recitals to work on it. They missed Danny’s science fairs. Every forgotten dinner or event could be tied back to that portal. And if it was gone, what was the point of it all?

Tim sighed and squeezed his hand. “We can’t just leave it open, Danny. It’s not safe.”

“I can design a door. A better one. One that actually works. Just… Leave it. Please. I can make it safe.”

Tim bit his lip and stared at Danny for a minute. “I’ll let them know it’s an option. I don’t know if they’ll go for it. Constantine is not happy with it existing. But I’ll see what I can do.”

Danny’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.”

Tim gave a half smile. “What are friends for? Now, think you’re up for something to eat? What do you want?”

Danny groaned. “Don’t wanna.”

Tim ruffled his hair. “Sorry, Polaris. Non-negotiable.”

“Chocolate pudding?” asked Danny.

“Sure. We can—”

Before Tim finished, a knock sounded on the door. “Someone ask for chocolate pudding?” called out Kon.

Tim laughed. “Come on in!” Without delay, the door opened and Kon walked in. It shut on its own behind him.

Even Danny couldn’t hold back the smile. He really had some great friends. “Spying on me, are you?” he asked.

“Not my fault you were talking so loud. Woke me up and everything!”

Danny, very maturely, stuck out his tongue. The grief he felt over his parents was hiding, ready to rear up again at any minute, but for now he had two friends with him. He would focus on that.

For the first time, Danny ate the entire pudding container and drank an entire vial of ectoplasm and wasn’t ready to pass out when he was done.

“Can we put on a movie or something? I don’t want to sit in the dark and quiet right now,” said Danny.

“’Course, Polaris,” said Tim. “What do you want to watch?”

“Kon, where’d we leave off in your movie list?” asked Danny.

But Kon held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m definitely going to fall asleep halfway through if we’re watching a movie. Pick whatever you want and don’t bring me into it.”

Danny pouted at him, but didn’t push. Kon hadn’t spent the last however many days sleeping. So he squeezed Tim’s hand and asked, “Then how about we put on some Star Trek? Short episodes and if we fall asleep, we’ve already seen them.”

Tim’s teeth were bright in the dark as he grinned. “I can definitely arrange that. You just lie there and keep looking pretty and I’ll pull it up. TOS or TNG?”

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Kon.

Both Danny and Tim ignored him. “I’m far from pretty,” retorted Danny. At Tim’s look, he rolled his eyes and said, “TOS.”

“Coming right up!”

Mounted to the wall facing the foot of the bed was a TV, smaller than the one in the living room, but still bigger than the one he had in his living room back home. Within minutes the opening, “Space, the final frontier,” rang through the room.

“Sorry, bit loud,” said Tim before adjusting it down a touch.

Danny didn’t bother replying as the episode started. Then Tim handed over a water bottle and settled back on the floor.

“What are you doing down there?” asked Danny.

“Getting comfortable? Where else would I go?”

Danny rolled his eyes, not that anyone could see. “This bed is huge. Sit next to me.”

“Won’t that jostle you?”

“Kon, move me over closer to the edge. Then you and Tim can join me.”

Kon laughed. “I think I’m going to go back to bed. I’m a morning person, unlike you two. But sure, I’ll move you to make room for Tim.”

Danny grit his teeth as Kon put his hands under his shoulders. Then he was wrapped in the strange sensation of TTK and his entire body was picked up and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Even as gentle as he was, pain radiated at the movement.

Danny clenched his eyes shut and stopped breathing until it passed. When it did, he slowly blinked open his eyes until the black spots faded and patted the bed next to him. “Get in, Secrets.”

“Are you sure?”

Danny glared and Tim grinned sheepishly as did as instructed.

But then he still tried to leave too much space. “Get closer.”

Tim grumbled under his breath, but shifted over a few more inches. He was sitting more upright than Danny was, but it was fine. Danny leaned his head against Tim’s side and finally let himself pay attention to the episode.

Next to him, Tim stiffened, but then relaxed and rested a hand on Danny’s head. “I’m glad you’re here, Polaris.”

Danny just hummed and let the show and Tim’s warmth help chase away the panic and grief he could still feel waiting for him.

---

Within two days, Danny was mostly able to sit upright. Frostbite’s medicines really were miraculous. Though he wished he could go to the Far Frozen and get stuck in a pod unconscious for a few hours and wake up fully healed.

He was video chatting with Ellie on the PDA Tucker had left him, complaining about being confined to bed.

She grimaced in sympathy. “I hate being stuck in one place.”

Danny laughed, then winced. “Trust me, gremlin, we know. You can’t even stay in the same city for more than a week.”

Ellie frowned and looked off to the side.

“What’s wrong?”

“What if—” she cut herself off and bit on her lip. Danny let her collect her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking of joining you. In Gotham.”

“What?” Danny was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. Ellie had never expressed an interest in coming to stay with him before, instead prioritizing her travels through both Earth and the Realms. “You want to come here?”

She frowned and glared at him. “You told me Superboy is there! And he’s a clone, too. I want to meet him.” Then she looked away. More quietly, she added, “’Sides, who’s gonna be able to keep your ass safe from ghosts if someone decides to attack while you’re injured? You certainly can’t protect yourself right now.”

For the first time since his parents captured him, Danny felt his core trill in happiness. She cared about him. “Of course you can come. I know Kon’s been hoping to meet you one of these days, too.”

She grinned widely at him. “Great.” She spun her PDA around and showed off the aerial view of a city. When she turned it back, she paused on the gargoyle she was sitting next to. “Because I’m already here. How do I find you?”

Danny’s mouth was hanging open again. “You— Ellie!” But he was grinning and holding back laughter, too. “I have no idea. Let me call in Kon and Tim. Maybe one of them can direct you.”

He didn’t even have to call for them before Kon was pushing open his door. “You need us?” he asked.

“Ellie wants to visit. Can one of you tell her how to get here?”

“Sure,” said Tim. “Where is she?”

Danny shrugged and held out the PDA. “Somewhere in the city. But I don’t know where.”

Tim blinked at him for a moment before shrugging and taking the device. “Well that makes it easier.” He looked down at the screen. “Hey, Ellie.”

“Oh my god, you’re Superboy! Huge fan,” she exclaimed. Kon had shoved himself next to Tim so he could see her.

He grinned. “I’m a huge fan of you, too. Sam’s told me some stories.”

“Glad you’re not dead anymore.”

Danny smacked his face when he heard her say that. Tim froze, wearing a fixed smile that Danny could see right through.

“Just tell them where you are,” said Danny as loud as he could.

“I’m getting there!” protested Ellie.

Kon burst out laughing. “I like you, Ellie.”

Danny couldn’t quite make out her reply, but it was enough to get Tim back into the conversation. “Turn invisible and fly down to the street. Show me the nearest street sign, okay? And then I’ll help you get here.”

“Or I could just fly out and meet her and bring her myself,” offered Kon.

“Yes!” cried Ellie. “That!”

Tim shrugged. “Just show us the nearest street sign, okay? I’ll figure out a good landmark for Kon to meet you at.”

Danny let his mind drift as they discussed potential meeting spots. Not even ten minutes later, Kon left.

Tim ran his hands through his hair and returned the PDA to Danny. “They should be back within twenty minutes. Anything we should get ready for Ellie?”

Danny shrugged. “No idea when the last time she ate would’ve been. Couldn’t hurt to have something ready.”

“Fine. I’ll blend you a smoothie and put a pizza in the oven. And set up the couch for her to sleep on.”

“Thanks, Secrets.”

“’Course, Polaris. Need anything before I go?”

Danny waved him off. “I’m good.”

Once he was alone, he pulled up the group chat with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

Danny: Ellie’s come to gotham Jazz: Oh good! She arrived. How’s she doing? Danny: You knew she was on her way? And didn’t tell me Danny: Betrayal! Danny: She and Kon haven’t made it to the apartment yet. He just left to find her Sam: Oh good. Have Ellie talk to him about the benefits of stealing child support from an unethical creator Tucker: I’m sure both Tim and I will be *thrilled* to help him out Danny: He’s not stealing his child support? Sam: Nope. He’s an idiot about it. Danny: We gotta fix that Jazz: Tell us when she’s there! Jazz: Have Tim or Kon send a picture of the two of you Danny: Really? I’m still bed bound! Jazz: Picture. Jazz: It’s an order.

Danny groaned, but he was grinning through it. His friends were the best. He closed out of the chat and pulled up a game to kill time until Ellie got there.

He only made it through a level and a half before he heard a squealed, “Danny!” and running footsteps.

Ellie came to an abrupt stop at the side of his bed. Her hoodie had a few new patches since the last time he saw her, and she was frowning as she looked him over. “Are you really going to be okay?”

Danny held out an arm. “Come here, gremlin.”

She hesitated, but when he didn’t say anything else, she climbed into bed with him and Danny wrapped his arm around her in a gentle hug. He wished he could hug her tighter, but this would have to do.

“I’ll recover. Promise. I’m already doing better.”

“This is you doing better?” sniffed Ellie.

Danny winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. “I know. It’s a lot. Feels like a lot to me, too. But I’m okay. Or I will be.”

She sniffed and turned her face into his shoulder. Her voice was so soft he could barely hear it. “I can’t lose any more brothers.”

Danny’s eyes burned at that and he patted her shoulder. “I’m safe now. I promise. You’re not gonna lose me.” He wiped away his own tears as she shook under his arm. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and wished things had been different in so many ways.

-----

A wild Danielle appeared! I've been waiting to introduce her. Next big introduction will be some of Tim's siblings.

Honestly, there's a few things I was excited about introducing this segment! Can you guess the other big reveal I've been sitting on?

I'm going to wait to write any more of Arc 3 until I get all of Arc 2 on AO3. I've ended up rewriting more than I planned on, so editing is taking longer than I expected. Also the wrist. That hindered things a bit, too.

If you want notifications when I update, please check out my Subscription Post.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #tim drake #eventual dead tired #wolf writes #i love that i was finally able to bring in ellie #shes struggling too #(and danny has some misconceptions about her)#but theyre together now #ellie and kon are gonna cause all the shit #once ellie is sure danny isn't going to die on her

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zazter-den · 9 months

Text

Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

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