#what is it when you try to leave your battered and hurt shell behind but tendrils pull away and stretch with you and twist and choke you?

[celtic-crossbow]

I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win. 

Daryl was not so easily mollified. 

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye. 

You weren’t afraid of him. 

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark  was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you. 

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said. 

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger. 

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes. 

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about. 

Still, you stayed. 

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now. 

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced. 

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you. 

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?” 

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue. 

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot. 

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow. 

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his. 

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll. 

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family. 

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor. 

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety. 

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you. 

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile. 

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?” 

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned. 

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring. 

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse. 

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away. 

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose. 

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides. 

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance. 

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you. 

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.” 

“Why the fuck do you even care?!” 

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing. 

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door. 

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you. 

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside. 

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded. 

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder. 

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle. 

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt. 

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you. 

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.” 

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair. 

“Ya do?” 

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment? 

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail. 

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile. 

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy. 

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door. 

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you. 

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder. 

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement. 

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot. 

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently. 

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf. 

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper. 

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly. 

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back. 

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite. 

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter. 

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.” 

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front. 

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later. 

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat. 

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear. 

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands. 

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!” 

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat. 

“Shit!” 

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen. 

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. 

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark. 

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt. 

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder. 

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it. 

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion. 

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.” 

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone. 

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.” 

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!” 

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg? 

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up. 

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.” 

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again. 

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long.  Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep. 

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse. 

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave. 

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered. 

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail. 

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?” 

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead. 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?” 

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.” 

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away. 

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him. 

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance. 

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was. 

A confession. 

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this. 

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap. 

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other. 

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you. 

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?” 

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.” 

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it. 

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already. 

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away. 

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair. 

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #Spotify

[jaylikesrainbowtigers]

This is my entry for the @fallofneilhargrove week, day 1: Death - rest in pieces.

Tw - mentions of abuse, alcoholism, attempted sexual assault of a minor, and death/implied murder

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Dear Neil Hargrove,

I have only wrote this type of letter once before. A letter to a dead man.

A dead man who was far better than you ever were.

I remember when my mom introduced you to me. How you smiled and told me how you would take me in as your own. How I would love it with you. I would be the daughter you never had.

I’m glad you never had a daughter. What you did to your son was bad enough.

I also remember how Billy stood behind you. Meek and quiet but at attention. Seen not heard, just how you liked him. I remember walking in on a hot Californian day to your house and thinking ‘Max, why are you here? Why do you have to do this?’ But all my mom said was something along the lines of ‘you’ll come to love it’ and ‘this is your home now’.

She was wrong.

Your house was that of nightmares. And you didn’t even need to touch me. You didn’t need to touch me when you could hit everyone else in that house.

Billy cowered in the corner covered in bruises and scars. My mom shuddered whenever someone closed a cupboard too fast. I learnt to not tell people because no one would believe me. Or maybe they just didn’t care.

You didn’t care.You said you did but you didn’t. Nobody who cared would break bottles on his son. Nobody who cared would leave grip marks on his wife’s wrists. Nobody who cared would put locks on the outside of our bedroom doors.

I’m the one who you left with no physical scars. No. All my scars are from a different kind of monster.

I’m the one who you left standing.

I don’t know what happened to Billy’s mom. I don’t even know her name. He always thought she left whilst he was out. Maybe she did. Maybe I don’t think that. You let a lot of things slip when you were drunk, Neil. Whispers of hate and violence spewing out of your lips. Secrets of how to dig up some ground. Words about hitting a bit too hard.

I bring justice for her.

Billy was maybe your biggest victim. But I hate to compare. We are all your victims. The marks on his skin, so rumoured to come from petty fights. I don’t think I ever really saw Billy fight. Just the once when some creep tried to grab at me when I was twelve. How he hid when you were around in contrast to what he showed to the world. A angry boy who was really just so, so sad? No. Victimised by you. An abused kid who never got to recover. A hero in the end.

I bring justice for him.

My mom. Susan Mayfield. I used to wish she had never left my dad. I see now that she was unhappy. Now I wish that she had never met you. I wish that I never had to see my mom wither away under you. The person she was destroyed by your will. I don’t know how she still loved you. I think you forced it into her. Made her feel like she could never live without you. Like you were saving her from so much worse. You were like a leach, draining the life out of her. How did she love you after it all? She died, you know. The doctor said alcohol poisoning. She became an alcoholic after you left her. An empty shell desperately trying to fill the void you had torn into her soul. I think me getting Vecna’d pushed her over the edge. She was not the best. Not by a long shot. But she was my loving mother. And you took her away.

I bring justice for her.

And me. Left blind and battered. But not by you. You didn’t physically hurt me. You didn’t break me. You couldn’t. I had people protecting me. At least a little bit. A warning here. A move there. A shoulder to cry on. They are the reason I survived you intact. They are why I can stand here today saying a letter that I memorised because I can’t write it down. Supported by the man who loves me the most and my friends who are closer to family. More of family than you would ever have been. And it hurts. You hurt me. Despite it all you hurt me. The abuse and the way you hurt those I loved. You hurt me, Neil Hargrove.

I bring justice for myself.

I stand here surrounded by people who love. For the sake of those who you hurt. I stand here better than you. Stronger than you. Whatever you could do to me, I survived.

I stand above your grave and tell you that you are done. You have been brought to justice. Maybe not in the legal sense. But I bring you to justice. For all of us. You got your justice. A dead man’s justice. The justice is that I lived. I lived through you. I made it. And I carry those who didn’t with me and they get their justice through me.

Look up at us. Look at me on Earth. Look at them above it. Look how we have moved on. Look at what you didn’t manage. You didn’t break us. You didn’t destroy us. We rose above you. Together, even if we didn’t all know it in life. You are done.

Rest in pieces Neil Hargrove

Worst regards,

Max Mayfield

#stranger things #max stranger things #billy stranger things #neil hargrove #fallofneilhargrove #susan mayfield #Billy’s mom #stranger things fandom event #max mayfield #billy hargrove

[tea-with-m]

hi um idk if you do requests and if not then feel free to ignore this!! could i get a vox x reader where the reader is afraid to fall in love because of some bad relas in the past? if not thats completely ok! thank you and i absolutely love your writing!!! make sure to drink water and stay hydrated!

Awe thank you @k-l-a-w-s ! I do have my asks open, I just haven't made an official requests post or anything. Your more than welcome to make requests tho and I'll do my best to get around to them. Hope you don't mind but I'm gonna tag on some extra guys just cause writing this got me thinkin and it feels a little wrong not to make a post for the V three with great this idea. Hope you like it ! I had a lot of fun writing it.

Warnings: Some strong language and some light mention of violence.

Afraid of falling in Love ?

(Vox, Velvet, and Valentino X reader afraid of Love

Vox

You had your fair share of relationships with a number of people and many of them left you burned, batter, and with a lasting bad taste in your mouth.

So it was no surprise that you had more than a little apprehension to the notion of "falling in love."

But here you were, in your most recent relationship with the cocky, loud, arrogant, and sometime selfishly acting Vox. He is certainly hard to handle at times, but you stuck it out.

And as the time past you have come to find that under his hard outer shell, there is a man who can be kind and thoughtful. Sure out in public he has this persona to uphold, but the time you have spent with him behind closed doors has shown you there is so much more to him that the shtick he gives everyone else.

That scared you.

The more of the real him you got to see, the more you grew to like and care for him. And it was at this point when all your past relationship would start to go wrong. When you started getting attached.

You feared deeply that things would go wrong with him too.

So you did the only rational thing you could think of to protect yourself and you started putting distance between you and him. You couldn't get hurt if you kept your distance. You talked less, went out less and little by little you would drift apart.

After all this couldn't be more than a fling to him? He was an Overlord. You had to be a one time pass, there was no way things were going to keep going so well.

You thought to yourself, soon he would be board of you and you would be done with him.

That is how things always went.

Weeks went by and soon weeks turned into months where you would say nothing and do nothing with him.

One day he asked you to meet him at his penthouse suite, just out of the blue. You were going to turn him down, but you figured if it was going to end it would be now. You would show up and either he would break up with you or you would break up with him.

This is the way it had to be.

But when you got there, you were surprised.

He had set up quite a romantic little scene, there were candles in your favorite scent that lead a trail to a dinner table for two. He stood there dressed in a suit and tie holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You looked at him in pure shock

Tears began to well up in your eyes as the words left your lips

" I can't do this "

You turned to run away from him. But he caught your wrist before you could give him the slip. He asked you frantically.

"Baby please, I'm sorry if I did something wrong. I don't know what the hell I did... I'm a fuckin idiot. Just please talk to me. I want to try and make it better. But you been avoiding me. I was hopin maybe this shit would make you stay and talk. Damn, please give me something. "

You could hear the desperation and pain in his voice as he tried to get you to say something. You couldn't bare to look him in the face as you say.

"WE are done...Please... let me go." He let go of your wrist and you quickly walked towards the door.

What you didn't expect was for him to block the only exit with an electric barrier keeping you from leaving the penthouse. You stood staring at it. He spoke slowly.

"Tell me... Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel nothin for me. Look at me straight and tell me that it is over and I will let you walk out that door. If you can't do that then you and I ain't movin no where. "

You fall to your knees and begin to sob. You don't know what else to do. You couldn't tell him any of those things and actually mean it.

He walks over to you and sits in front of you. " I am not a very patient man... but I will sit here until you are ready to say somethin."

True to his word he sits patiently and waits for you to stop crying. He doesn't touch you at all he just lets you cry it out. It takes you about half an hour to feel stable enough to speak.

You start slowly and explain to him that you were so afraid of getting close to him because of the past relationships you had.

You have been used, abused, cheated on and thrown out all when you stared to feel something for those others. When things start to look like they are going good it all comes crashing down for you. You didn't want that to happen again. Especially not with him.

You really liked him, hell you might even say love and that terrifies you because you are so tired of being hurt. You started to cry again and this time he pulls you in and holds you. He speaks softly in a gentle tone.

" I understand how ya feel... I been through hell with this heart of mine too. It hurts that you think ya can't talk to me about this. But I understand why it is hard for ya. If ya still want this.. can you promise me you will come to me with your concerns and not just ghost me?"

You look up at him and give the side of his screen a light and playful flick. " Of course I still want you." You plant a gentle kiss on his screen where his mouth would be.

His screen color flushes in a pink shade and he lets out a staticky chuckle.

The two of you agree to take things slow and to talk more about how you feel. Vox expresses that he want you to feel confident in the relationship and in him because he is devoted to you.

He asks you if you wanna come with him to hunt down your ex's for some revenge. But you tell him not tonight and opt to just cuddle and enjoy each others company.

Your last thoughts' before falling asleep in his arms, is that maybe this relationship could grow into something good given time.

Maybe together you could both learn to love again and it wouldn't be so scary.

Velvet

You and Velvet started out as friends. You bonded at some event and went out on a spree of chaos for the night. The friendship quickly took off and you found yourself spending so much time with the spunky little red head.

You guys talked and texted all the time. It seemed like she was a real open book with you. Complete transparency.

Velvet would ask you to join her everywhere and one day she was like...

" I really like you. You wanna go out on a date like as not friends and just see where it goes?"

It's not hard to say your reaction defiantly took her by surprise.

You crushed your wicdonalds drink and abruptly got up rushing to the bathroom. Where you proceed to lock yourself in a stall and not come out.

She text you.

" So is that a no *sad face emoji* ?"

You did not answer and after about 20 minutes she got worried and deiced to come into the bathroom after you. She proceed to yell.

" If there is anyone else in this bathroom GET OUT or I'm gonna paint the walls a pretty red with you !!!"

Several denizens clamber quickly out of the bathroom, giving you some privacy.

Velvet walks over to the one stall door that did not immediately swing open. She knocks gently.

"Hey, Hun... you okay in there?" she waits for an answer

You don't reply.

" Look, it's okay if you don't want what we got to change. I get it. But please come out, will ya? " She tells you this in her honeyed voice that makes your heart beat fast.

It's not that you hate the idea of a date... But so much has happened and you just don't want that to happen again with her.

You slowly open the bathroom stall and look at her.

" Look Vel it's not that I hate the idea..."

She gives you a look that says " That is total not how this situation reads and you know it." But she surprisingly remains quite and lets you finish what you were going to say.

"I know, I know... * You look down* The word "date" just scares me... or maybe its all the things that come after and what could happen. So much has gone wrong and I just... * Velvet cuts' you off*

"Babes " She puts her hands on her hips and gives you her trade mark playful grin. " This is me we are talkin bout. You don't gotta be afraid to tell me something is makin you uncomfortable. If you don't wanna do the whole date thing then that's okay. We can still totally hang out as friends."

You look back up at her and give a weak smile.

"Thanks..."

Velvet takes a good look at you and pulls you into a hug.

"I get the feelin this is more of a bother to you then yer lettin on." She gently pats your head. " You don't have to talk about it now, but I am here to listen if you change yer mind."

You are a bit shocked, it is rare to receive moments like this from this spitfire. But she has her days.

You pull back and give a more whole hearted smile.

"Thanks Vel."

" No Probs Bobs ! Now !!! Ya wanna go cause some chaos ?!?! Cause like this place has so totally gotten boring !!!" Velvet early pulls you along and out of the bathroom.

As you leave, you lose yourself a little in thought.

You definitely care for Velvet, she is your bestie... But you can't shake the feeling that there is something more behind what you feel.

A small part of you is actually disappointed that you turned down that date offer. But you are too scared to push the envelope any further with her...

At for right now.

You have got a lot to work through and you know that no matter what happens this crazy chick has got your back. So you decide to sit on your thoughts and feels until you are ready to unpack them with her.

This could totally wait, destroying shit with your main squeez was much more important. At least it would offer a good distraction.

You weren't quite ready to tackle all the things that came after "date"

You felt so defeated just thinking about all your romantic tragedies in the past. All the scares you "lovers" left on you. They were people you thought were safe, people you had given you love to willingly only to be stabbed in the back.

To be fair this was hell, and everyone had some sort of angle... it was foolish to think that hippieness was even a possibility down here.

But she made you happy... didn't she? She made your heart flutter with anticipation and delight every time she was near did she not?

These thought kept running through your head throughout the night .

Velvet could tell your heart just wasn't in it because your head was somewhere else.

After blowing up a few things and sharing some half hearted giggles. She opted to take you back to her place suggesting that the two of you could watch some movies.

You both settled in with some popcorn and a punch of snacks.

Velvet hoped the relaxing change of pace would set your mind at ease but your demeanor remained ever the same.

She decided to take a chance and bring up the subject again.

" Hey hun... you still seem really bothered. You wanna talk about it." She sounded so genuine and sweet.

You couldn't look her in the eyes, so instead you look out the window and just said " I'm good Vel, just lost in my own thoughts... Sorry if I am bringing down the mood... Maybe I should just go home."

"I know you are really bein bugged by somethin, its written like all over your face. Please tell me. Maybe I can help. " She proceeded to rest her head in your lap and lightly booped your nose.

You smiled down at her with a sigh.

Figuring it was probably best to just tell her what was wrong because she definitely wouldn't leave you alone about it and she was just gonna keep asking.

So you proceeded to awkward spill your guts to your best friend and she listened patiently.

When you were done explaining your past with relationships and the fear they had left you with because of the hurt you felt, she understandably looked pissed.

In turn you looked a little nervous down at her.

" I am not mad at you bunny, I AM Mad that someone would dare hurt you so badly, a few someone's !!! That is Just Totally not COOL!!!"

You giggled a little at her action, but could not help the tears that were slowly trickling down your face.

Never did you think you would ever get to take the weight of how you felt off your chest. Yet here you were being vulnerable.

Velvet softy wiped your tears and pulled you into a warm hug letting you just cry it out as you needed to.

You were scared of the word "date" because you were scared of the love that came with it if things went well.

She couldn't say she completely understood, usually if someone broke her heart she would just rip out there's, but you were not her and she got that you just handled things differently.

Gently she let you out of the hug and told you.

" I really like you as a friend and no matter what happens I want us to always stay friends. So, if ya eva change yer mind about the whole dating shabang and wanted to try it with me, I want us to be open and talk about how we feel. IF things ain't working out we can always go back to being friends cause I would rather have you in my life as a friend then like not at all."

She hugs you again and cheerily says " Oh and I am SO Totally murdering your ex's !!! No one hurts my bestie and gets away with it !!! "

You laugh and feeling better, you both proceed to spend the rest of the night just watching movies.

Valentino

He wasn't exactly know for liking commitment.

You haven't the slightest clues as to how you ended up in a long term relationship with Valentino.

Typically he would just take what he wanted and throw whoever out when he had his fill of fun with them.

But for whatever reason, that was not the case with you.

But weeks turned into months and he was showing no signs of wanting to get rid of you.

You fully expected to just have a little fling with him and figured even if you were just gonna get dumped in the end at least you could have some fun and milk the situation for what it was worth.

Which of course put you in a very awkward (some might say dangerous) situation because You did not like the idea of getting attached to him.

Yet that is exactly what was happening.

You were beginning to fall for one of the worst people in Hell to do that with.

It would be light to say, that this fact down right terrified you because the deeper and deeper your affections got for him the closer to love you came.

You didn't want to love him ! You didn't want to love anyone Ever Again !!!

This realization of yours made interactions with Val slowly become more stiff and unpleasant as you got more annoyed at these growing feelings.

He began to notice your shift in mood towards him.

The both of you were in one of his clubs.

"Baby, what's got you all wound up~" he asks you in his sweet and seductive tone.

You don't look at him, you just proceed to roll your eyes and huff out in annoyance.

" This show is almost over Sweets, I see your annoyed we can go anywhere you want after this." he plants quick kiss behind your ear and pulls you into his lap.

He chuckles at your little display and tactfully, tip-toes his hands around your shoulder and arm pulling you close. Whispering in your ear.

You promptly pull away and squirm your way out of his lap, crossing your arms you turn your back on him.

This clearly pisses Valentino off. If there is one thing he hates it is certainly being ignored. Especially when he is being so sweet.

When it is over he quickly gets up and despite still being mad he offers you his hand.

His face visibly sours and the two of you sit in awkward silence for the last few minutes of the show.

You don't really look at him, but you take his hand and allow him to help you stand up anyway.

The two of you walk back to his limo and when the door shuts you both in, is when he begins his questions.

" Your being a real Bitch babe? Were you that unhappy with bein there ? You could have just said you didn't want to go with me ya know ! "

His sweet tones have all but faded into heavy annoyance.

" I don't really feel like talking about it... Can you just take me home... Please. " You don't look at him at all, you just stare out the window like the scene passing by is so interesting.

He cracks his car side window a little and takes a long drag from his cigarette, puffing out the smoke in wafts. He grits his teeth and curtly answers.

" Fine. Babe. I'll take ya home." He gives a knock to the upfront driver and his limo drops you off right in front of your house.

You proceed to not answer Any of his calls or texts for the next couple of weeks.

In response Valentino begins to send you gifts, and you send each of them right back.

This goes on for about a month and he finally caves, furiously annoyed that you won't accept anything from him or answer any of his calls or texts.

One night you hear a knocking on your door. You have no idea who the hell would want to see you at this time of night and you couldn't care to get up and check.

You hear the knockings again this time louder and more frantic.

You rise with an annoyed groan " I'm Coming, I'm Coming hold your horses !"

Leaning your head against the door you let out a sigh. And slowly open it, letting him in and closing it behind him.

Looking through the peep hole you see a much less extravagant version of Val standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

Very uncharacteristically weak Val say " I brought you flowers..."

It is very clear he doesn't know what to say and he seems a little afraid to say anything. There are bags under his eyes and it looks like he very clearly has not been sleeping well.

You take some pity on him and gently take the flowers " Thanks"

He follows you as you look for something to put them in.

You pull out a vase and place the floral bouquet in them.

" Look... I... Uh... I'm s-sorry. " it is very clear that the phrase sorry is not something that comes naturally to Valentino.

" I don't exactly know what the hell I did, if it's cause I called I called you a bitch...You were acting pretty cold for no damn reason.. I just... " You listen tentatively.

" Things were goin so well and then you started acting all weird..." His tone is a mix of sadness and anger, intense yet dull all at the same time.

" Then you fuckin ghost me, wont answer my calls and you've rejects all the crap I sent you... I don't get it !!! What the hell did I do wrong? "

He gets down on his knees so he is eye level to you.

" Please... Tell me what went wrong ?" You can see clearly the desperation in his eyes.

" I love you... I can't... I don't wanna lose you... "

Without noticing tears being to slip past your eyelids. You shakily reply.

"Y-you can't Love me !!!" You look him in the eyes with a fearful look filling the pools of your.

He surprises you, with tenderness you did not know he was capable of as he gently pulls you close to him with his lower arms and wipes your tears with the top set.

" Why can't I ?" Val looks you in the eyes and you recognize the look he is giving you because it is the same one you are giving him.

He is just as afraid and vulnerable as you are in this moment.

You pull him into a hug and when you pull away you help him up and gently guide him to your bedroom, sitting him down on the bed.

The two of you begin to talk it out, you spend hours just letting your walls down in conversation.

You learn that he often guards his heart so closely because love and loss have left him so jaded, but when he is with you he doesn't feel like there are any expectations and it just feels natural.

In turn you tell him that your past relationships have left you afraid to ever love someone again, and despite the way he is someone you started to love him too.

When your confessions are done and no more word are shared between you, you both decide to meld into each other for the night. Sharing your bed, you spend a night of passion and for that time you allow yourself to feel nothing but.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin velvet #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #vox x reader #velvet x reader #valentino x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel vivziepop #x reader

[sserpente]

Raw Desire

Synopsis: Something is wrong with him. Something none of the Avengers, including Thor, understand. When Loki turns into his Jötun form unwillingly and begins to act in a very primal and aggressive way, their solution for the problem is to lock him up in a cell below the compound until it’s all over. It’s a disease, perhaps, one which only Frost Giants can develop. Only Loki is not sick. Loki is in heat--and his Jötun body will not rest until his most carnal desires have been satisfied...

Words: 9176 Warnings: Jötun!Loki, smut, fluff, symptoms of addiction

A/N: You wanted some Jötun!Loki, I wanted some Jötun!Loki... so here we go. Enjoy, everyone! 😏

Additional NSFW Warnings: breeding kink (a little bit, anyway), Loki is in heat (kind of, duh), lack of aftercare (at first...)

-

His antagonising scream tore through the entire compound. You flinched, alarmed. Loki. The heart-breaking sound of pain tugging at your nerves was followed by a loud thump—like a heavy metal door falling shut, locked for good. It had come from the cellar, where the Avengers stored weaponry and ammunition; along with provisory but secure prison cells of Wakandan technology for criminals until they could be handed over to the authorities.

When you reached the source of the rousing noise, you almost knocked straight into Thor. His muscly back resembled a thick fleshy wall that would break your bones if you collided with him with too much force and speed.

“What happened?” Out of breath, you moved around him—facing the culprit of the commotion. The eerie flickering camera right outside the cell door showed Loki knocking his fists repeatedly against the metal door. His knuckles were already bloody from the repeated impact, yet the door would not budge. Much more concerning, however, was his appearance. Loki’s skin—every inch revealed to the naked eye anyway—was blue, his otherwise enchanting blue eyes sparkling with mischief of a deep blood-red. Countless, unique and fleshy lines formed a complex pattern on his arms and the back of his hands, even his face and neck. Your lips parted, both in shock and surprise at what your eyesight had revealed to you.

“He’s losing his fucking mind.” Tony responded for Thor before the Thunderer could even open his mouth in defence. He came tramping into the room as mad as you had never experienced him, tapping away on a tablet in the process. “I told you it was bad idea to bring him back here, Point Break! What were you thinking?”

“Can anybody tell me what is going on?! Why is he… like this? Is he in pain?”

“In pain?! He almost killed Nat. If Wanda hadn’t interfered…” Tony did not finish the sentence—regardless, the threat of what consequences there would have been for the God of Mischief was clearly audible.

“This was unlike him. He had no reason to…”

“No? He pounced on her like a… like a…”

“Beast?” Bruce added matter-of-factly. His hands were in his pocket when he approached the scene and patted Thor on the back in an attempt of providing comfort.

“Maybe… maybe this isn’t his fault, Stark. I know my brother, he’s never acted like this before!” The God of Thunder roared in defence, his arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Tony retorted sarcastically. “You know your brother so well he even tried to kill us all. Three times. No. This man is evil. Look at him!”

Petrified, you risked another peek. Loki was downright animalistic, his fists still working the metal cell door. He was getting weaker, worn out—like the fire in his red eyes was slowly being extinguished to make way for weariness. There was something primal in his behaviour; something raw. You would be ignorant to deny it scared you.

“Tony,” you began, forcing your voice to cease the shaking, “What happened? Why did he attack Natasha? Was he hurt?” Your sudden concern for him was going to give you away. No, not sudden. It had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface of your heart. You had only kept it a secret because… because what?

Loki did not know you had been harbouring romantic feelings for him for a significant amount of time now. Dark, tall and mysterious, he matched not only your type but had hopelessly captured you with his melancholic and lonely nature, the grief in his stunning blue eyes. You refused to believe that Loki was evil, that he had ever truly wanted to harm his brother; and you were desperate to be his friend… and even more than that. But the God of Mischief had hidden his heart behind such a hard shell that you were worried you might never get him to open up to you.

You would by no means describe yourself as an altruistic person—but there was a both enamoured and depraved part of you which desired, longed, for him to like you back.

“Talk to me.” You stated, tilting your head when he flung his dagger at one of the battered punching bags in the training room.

“What?” He sounded almost scornful when he spun around to gift you an incredulous look.

“Talk to me, Loki. I want to know what’s going on in your mind. I thought I was… you are always so distant. You disappear in here every other night, you snap at everyone trying to speak to you. You look nervous, like something is trying to break out of you.” Like you are trying to get rid of monstrous amounts of bottled up energy, you added silently. “You seem so restless. What’s wrong?”

“What concern is that of yours?” He spat.

“See! That is exactly what I meant.”

Loki growled. “What do you want from me, (Y/N)?” You flinched when he used your full name as opposed to the nickname everyone called you by.

“Why? Why are you screaming at me, I’m just trying to help! Don’t you get it, Loki? I care about you. And I care about what you think, even if I am probably the only one in this bloody compound who does.” Now that was unfair. But it was also the truth. “Why are you pushing me away? Let me in…”

Desperately, you moved forward in an attempt to reach up and cup his face, only for him to grab your wrists and pull them away harshly.

“Let you in? All I have ever received in return for ‘letting someone in’ was hurt and hatred. Give me one good reason for why I should open up to you,” he mocked, releasing your hands as if they would burn his fingers if they lingered on your skin for too long. “Tell you about my sorrows.” Sorrows. He had sorrows.

“I am not them.” You simply said. “Not any of them. I am not Odin, not Thor, none of the Avengers.”

Blinking, you snapped out of your memory. You had had this tragic conversation only two nights ago. No matter what you had said, he would not tell you what was on his mind. Now you knew.

“Something is wrong with him.” You interrupted the discussion, one you had not paid any attention to, by silencing them with a loud and determined voice.

“You don’t say?”

“No, Tony, you don’t understand… Loki is… he is Jötun. Thor, has he ever voluntarily turned into his Jötun form?”

The God of Thunder thought about it for a moment—then, he shook his head. “No.” You gave him a meaningful look. “So… you think it has something to do with his species?”

You nodded slowly and swallowed.

“Then we keep him in here until he is better.” He concluded. Your eyes widened.

“What? Thor, no… you can’t keep him locked up in there! What if he doesn’t get better on his own? Are you going to incarcerate him forever?”

“That would be an improvement.” Tony tossed in bitterly.

“We have to help him.”

“We? (Y/N)…” Bruce remarked almost tauntingly.

“You’ll find us upstairs. We need to let the others know about… whatever this is.” Tony added. You gnashed your teeth when he and Bruce turned to leave. For an awkward moment, it was eerily still—right until another one of Loki’s screams tore through the uncomfortable silence. You flinched once more. He was howling in pain.

“You think it might be a disease only Frost Giants can get?” Thor asked with concern in his deep voice at last.

You shrugged apologetically. “Maybe…”

“Loki and I were going to return to Asgard next week. I shall ask around, one of the healers should be familiar with Jötun diseases.”

“Go as soon as you can. Your brother is in pain, Thor, can’t you hear that?”

The God of Thunder nodded absentmindedly. But if no one was going to do something about Loki’s suffering—whatever it was—immediately, you would do it alone. So you did what Loki would do first. You dug up his books.

-

Loki’s room was neat, tidy. The green bed had been made—there was not a single wrinkle in the fabric and the desk was all clean, not giving thin layers of dust only visible in the direct sunlight a chance. The books he had brought from Asgard, old, thick, yellowed and heavy, he had stored on a bookshelf higher than you could reach.

Sucking in a determined breath, you moved the desk chair in front of it. The polished wooden floor to your feet complained with an ear-piercing shriek as you did. Determined, you climbed up to study the titles. All of them were written in Nordic Runes, making you realise that your research would end up being a lot harder than you had initially assumed. You could not speak a word of Old Norse, let alone read those Runes. Never mind that… you needed answers—and Loki needed your help.

It took you two hours to go through the titles and have them translated via a website you had had to pay for (using Tony’s credit card details—desperate times called for desperate measures) to use its allegedly reliable services.

Then, finally, after what felt like half an eternity, you found a suitable page-turner. It was titled Mythical Creatures and Species across Yggdrasil—at least, that was what the website you used told you.

Eagerly, you opened the book searching frantically for the chapter on Frost Giants and began sucking up all the information you could get. The more you read… and the more you compared Loki’s symptoms to the described behaviour of Jötuns in the book, the more aghast you became. One thing was for sure. Loki was not sick. Loki was aroused.

Terror-stricken, you bookmarked the page, grabbed your phone and jumped to your feet, abandoning the pile of books on Loki’s floor. You needed to speak to Thor right now.

He was about to enter the bathroom when you found him, once again almost knocking into his broad form.

“I… I found something.” You choked out.

“What?”

“I found something… about Loki. Thor… he is not ill, not really, he is…” Biting your lower lip, you pushed the God of Thunder into the bathroom, shut the door behind you and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. “He is… aroused.”

“What?” He roared, blushing. “What do you mean he is aroused?”

“Look… I found this book, I…”

“You speak Old Norse?”

“No! I used… I used a translator. Thor, listen, please. It says here that to ensure their continued existence, male Frost Giants, every one-thousand years, experience the primal urge to copulate with females of their kind. Much like wolves or elves, this ‘heat’ usually begins with restlessness, extremely aggressive and possessive behaviour, unusual amounts of pent-up energy as well as an extreme hunger and loss of appetite at the very same time. Loki hasn’t showed up for lunch, dinner or breakfast and… he has been spending extraordinary times in the training room downstairs in the middle of the night lately. He barely sleeps, it seems.”

“Go on…”

“How old is Loki, Thor?”

“He is a little over one-thousand years… old.” He looked up in shock when he realised.

“That’s why he is in his Jötun form, Thor. He can’t control it, it’s not his fault, it’s… in his nature. God…” You had read it all, yet you were still working on processing it.

“This… it would explain why he tried to attack Nat. So… he is not in danger then?” Thor probed.

“No, not necessarily but—“

“So we can just wait until it is over.”

You frowned. “Until what is over?”

“His heat! If what you are saying is true and Loki’s behaviour derives from his heritage… if he cannot control his reactions, we have to keep him locked up and wait. We can’t have him ravish all the females in the compound.”

“But… he is in pain.”

An urgent knock on the bathroom door interrupted you.

“Hey, are you having a soap party in there? Other people need to use the bathroom too!” Closing the heavy book shut again, you rolled your eyes.

“There are at least three other bathrooms in this compound, Tony!”

“What are you two doing in here anyway?” He asked as he opened the door and leaned against the threshold when he spotted you two sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“(Y/N) found out that Loki is… uh… in heat.”

“In heat?!” Tony repeated. “Like a cat?”

“No! It… has something to do with the procreation cycle of Jötuns. It… is in his nature.”

“Fuck…”

“Hey… language.” If you hadn’t recognised his voice, you would know it was Steve who joined your heated discussion. “What’s going on here?”

“Loki is in heat, like a cat.” Steve frowned.

“No, he isn’t! Not like a cat, this is…” Thor stood again before you could finish your sentence.

“It’s for the best, (Y/N). Down there, he’ll be save from getting himself into trouble.”

“Thor, wait! Loki is suffering! Soon, he will…”

“We can’t risk it, (Y/N)! He almost raped Natasha!” Tony barked. “And if you go near him, I’ll lock you up too. I’ve seen what he’s capable of, (Y/N). I will not let him hurt you.”

“He… he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.” You chirped. No. Loki would never deliberately take a woman against her will. If he did… no! Loki had in incredible amount of self-control and composure; and you knew how much he despised his own heritage. He would fight this—for as long as he could.

“Besides…” Tony added. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he got a taste of his own medicine.”

“Stop blaming Loki for your PTSD, Tony. That was Thanos’ doing and you know that.” You growled darkly. The billionaire paused for a moment.

“He is staying where he is,” he concluded then. “Until he’s gone back to normal.”

-

But you did not want to wait. You couldn’t. You had read about the symptoms in detail. In the book it said that moodiness and aggression were only the beginning. If Loki did not act on what his Jötun body demanded from him and… released, then soon, excruciating pain would torment his loins. Masturbation appeared to be out of the picture. You nibbled on your lower lip. This thought of yours invaded his privacy on a truly shameful level, yet you were certain that if sexual arousal had already been plaguing him for a significant amount of time before this outbreak of his, he would have tried to lay hand on himself already and learned it did not provide the necessary relief.

Sooner or later, he would no longer be able to suppress his erection—and it would not disappear until he… sheathed himself inside a female to fill her with his seed. Under different circumstances, the idea of him claiming a woman… you, in such a possessive manner would have aroused you tremendously yourself. As of right now, however, Loki was in agony. The pain, if ignored for too long, would only get worse—it could last up to months and even then the denial of sexual release could result in permanent damage to his loins and even his potency.

But there was no cure either. No potion or spell to contain a male Jötun’s heat which Thor could have forwarded to Asgardian healers.

It was past midnight when you stopped reading and translating—too appalled by how much more Loki would have to suffer if nothing was done about his… condition. The only way to make it stop… was to act on it.

Your lips parted in realisation. You liked him, very much so—and you found Loki incredibly attractive, dreaming of his hands on your body, even. Perhaps you could help him after all. You were not Jötun but… would his body really make a difference? This most primal part of him wished to mate with a female—and although you had never seen a female Jötun, you doubted they looked much different than you did down there.

-

You had to wait another thirty minutes until the lights in Tony’s lab finally went out and you could sneak through the compound and downstairs to the cells—and once you had made sure that Vision was nowhere to be found, you switched off the security camera for Loki’s cell and approached the thick metal door.

It was quiet. He had stopped screaming. There was no banging against the walls either. Yet when you unlocked the door and slipped inside, his appearance, cowering on the floor and leaning against the cool wall with bare feet, startled you to the core. Loki’s raven hair was completely dishevelled, his knuckles bruised and covered in dry blood. His Jötun appearance was downright intimidating and close up, even more fascinating. He was breathing heavily, the thin shirt he had been wearing underneath all of his armour torn in several places, revealing blue skin and in his dark leather trousers… there was a remarkable bulge.

You shivered slightly when his red eyes met yours. Slowly, he tilted his head. “What are you doing here?” He growled hoarsely but weakly.

“I… I want to help you.”

The God of Mischief snorted. “You cannot help me.”

Mutely, you shook your head. “I can. Loki… I… I know what’s happening with you.”

He snorted once more. “So do I.”

“Let me help you.” Taking a deep breath, you moved closer to him. He reacted immediately. Loki jerked, greedily, as if to grab you and pull you on his lap. He could barely stop himself. Yet you were convinced that he would not hurt you in this state… much. A wave of courage rolled over you—you were doing this for him; and you wouldn’t be doing it if you did not like him in this way. Regardless of what he thought of you after, if he could even imagine being with a mortal like that… you longed to stop his pain.

“Leave.” He said quickly when you kneeled down next to him, timidly resting your palms on his thighs. “No… I said… leave… while you still can.” You did not. In fact, you ignored his rather sincere warning. Slowly, to not tickle the sleeping dragon, you reached for the buttons of his leather trousers and began undoing them until he grabbed a hold of your wrists to stop you. He was ice cold.

“Have you… lost your mind?” Loki was cut off by a loud hiss escaping his lips when your fingertips brushed against his erection. He was large—much larger than he would be in his Aesir form, you presumed, and his cock too was blue and covered in dozens of ridges.

“It won’t go away on its own,” you whispered. “You know it won’t. It’s okay.”

Braver this time, you stroked him again, creating more skin on skin contact. Loki was still holding on to you tightly but made no move to stop you. The touch of a female… it must have been bringing some sort of relief already. Coming here had been the right decision.

“Loki…” You murmured. Finally, your hand closed around his incredibly hard cock entirely and you began to jerk him off—gently at first, only to pick up speed when his breathing grew even heavier than it already was. Defeated, he dropped his head against the wall, revealing his blue neck to you. “Please let me help you.” You repeated. “It’s okay. I trust you.” Upon those words, Loki’s eyes widened barely noticeably. Perhaps it was all he had needed to hear to lose his self-control and composure entirely.

Growling like a wild animal, he suddenly started at you, pushing you back firmly so you lost your balance like a beetle on its back, wrapped his ice cold hands around your ankles and pulled you into him. Your back collided with the floor, knocking all air out of your lungs. You gasped for air all the while Loki busied himself with your clothes. Any layer of fabric was too much. He wanted you naked for him. His sheer strength petrified you when he tore at your pyjamas and ripped them to pieces until they were scattered all over the cell. You trembled—but it wasn’t the icy temperature of his blue skin that made your limbs shake so much. It was, so you realised when your widened eyes fell on his massive erection, now fully springing free from his tight trousers, your own arousal growing into dizzying heights. This, whatever it was, excited you—maybe even way more than it should.

Once more, the God of Mischief grabbed your ankles, forcing your legs open. Your heart skipped a beat when he laid his blood-red eyes upon your bare pussy. Your lower lips must have been glistening with your juices in the artificial light of the cell. Loki growled, his long and cold fingers gripping your ankles so tightly you could already feel the bruises forming. Eagerly, he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his hard and ice cold cock teasing your clit. A moan escaped your lips, urging him on. The fire in his eyes had returned, like your body had set his ablaze.

He spread you even further for him, your nails digging into the metal floor beneath you—and then he claimed you for his own. Inch by antagonising inch, he split you apart, sheathing himself so deep inside of you all air was knocked from your lungs yet again. He was ice cold and he was much larger than the average man; and you were beginning to understand that yes, female Jötuns were anatomically different than humans. Human women were not made for taking such long cocks… so why did every single powerful thrust of his feel so good?

Loki pulled out almost completely, with only the tip remaining inside of you, only to plunge back inside only the fraction of a second later, fucking you furiously. Your tight and wet walls appeared to mould around his manhood, gripping him tightly, asking for more despite the almost unbearable coldness against your most intimate parts. No longer were you in control of your arms. They reached up, palms gliding over his bare chest and enjoying the coldness under your fingertips. Fascinated and aroused at the very same time, you traced every single ridge on Loki’s body while he was fucking you senseless, until your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to take the pleasure. His long manhood his spots inside of you which you had never known even existed. He leaned down, at last letting go of your ankles, instead taking a hold of your wrists to pin them both down right above your head and pressing his body so tightly against yours that your clit kept rubbing against his pelvis with every single stroke. You moaned, stricken by ecstasy, and arched your back as you kept moving your hips up to meet his thrusts.

Aroused, you looked down, watching how his blue cock kept sliding in and out of you, spreading your lips as they enveloped him welcomingly.

Loki groaned, his attention steering towards your breasts as they bounced with each of his rough thrusts. Hungrily, he lowered his face, his cold breath ghosting over your mounts, and sucked your right nipple into his mouth—hard. He nibbled, suckled pulled and bit until the already hardened nub was throbbing with pleasure and need and he repeated the same blissful procedure with your left nipple all the while he kept rutting into you uncontrollably.

“Loki…” You wondered if, in his current state, he would be able to speak. As of right now, he indeed reminded you of a wolf who would annihilate anything standing between him and his subject of desire, his prey—you.

Your toes curled, the promising and numbing sensation growing in your lower abdomen having you scream his name over and over again. You could already feel yourself clenching around him, your body urging him on to mark you with his seed and impregnate you and when he finally released himself into you, burying his cock as deep inside of you as was physically possible and coating your walls with his load, he triggered your own release.

You came with a loud moan, feeling him twitch against you as your pussy contracted around him again and again until you collapsed underneath him, spent and tired from his vigorous fucking. Loki, on the other hand, didn’t even think about letting you be. Unceremoniously, he pulled you on his lap so you came to snuggle up against his cold and naked chest, your face hidden in his neck. He supported himself by leaning against the metal wall, his cock still resting deep inside of you.

“How… are you… feeling?” You breathed out, barely able to keep your eyes open. Being taken thoroughly by a Frost Giant had been a lot more exhausting than you had initially assumed.

He was panting, his eyes almost shut. His erection inside you, however, was still very prominent and nowhere near ebbing down.

“Better… soon.” He growled into your ear. Soon? A high-pitched scream escaped your lips when he sank his teeth into your neck and bit down hard enough to make you squirm on his lap. You could still feel his ice cold sperm dribbling out of you and coating his own cock when he grabbed your arse and began moving you up and down his cold rut, forcing you to ride him.

“Oh… fuck…” You choked out. You were tender already, sensitive to the touch. This was too much, too soon. Yet Loki was too caught up in his pleasure and urges to give you a break. He took you several more times that night, eliciting orgasm after orgasm after orgasm from you—until you were on the verge of passing out.

-

You awoke with a hunger unlike one you had never experienced before. Irritated, you crawled out of bed—using the toilet but skipping your morning routine to get to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. It was only seven. Loki had not… released you until half past six. There was no way your body could have drawn enough rest from this meagre hour of sleep.

Be that as it may—for now, you were hungry. Quietly, you tiptoed into the kitchen, ignoring the sweet ache and tenderness between your legs and resisting the urge to cup yourself through your pyjama bottoms. The white and bright light of the fridge blinded you when you opened it and reached for a package of juice and one of those pre-packed turkey sandwiches Tony kept buying. Unceremoniously, you then closed the fridge with your butt and sat down at the kitchen table to eat. And you kept returning to the fridge until Steve joined you in the kitchen to have a cup of coffee and then go for a run. When had you ever been this hungry before? Was it because of the aggressive sex you had had with Loki? Jesus…

You blushed when Steve asked you how you had slept—and you were rather grateful you had been smart enough to switch off the security cameras before… helping Loki out. He had still been in his Jötun form when you left at long last but he had looked content and… satisfied, in the most carnal manner possible. You would wait until the rest of the Avengers were up to check on him, to not raise any suspicion.

So when Thor staggered into the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face, you nearly jumped from your seat.

“Good morning!” He yelled—clearly in a very good mood. He managed to scarf down an entire package of fruit loops before you couldn’t take it anymore and aggressively scratched your fork over your empty plate until the room went awkwardly quiet.

“Didn’t you forget something?” You asked him heatedly. The God of Thunder frowned.

“No! I did flush the toilet this morning, (Y/N).”

Rolling your eyes, you stood.

“Loki. Loki is still one level below you, locked up in a cell, in pain, while you are enjoying your breakfast.” You hoped though, sincerely, that he was no longer in pain.

“(Y/N)… we spoke about this, there is nothing we can do. Down there, he can’t hurt himself or anyone else. I told you I’m going to Asgard soon, I will speak to—”

It was in this moment that your plate broke in half. You had, subconsciously, used your fork to stab it so forcefully it fell apart like a rotten apple. Eyes widening, you mumbled an apology.

“Sorry… I just… no one should be suffering like this. You all heard him last night.”

Bruce gave you a gentle smile. “You’ve always had a big heart for everyone, huh?” You nodded quickly. They did not need to know about your feelings… or the arousing ache between your legs. Your heart was racing. You took a deep breath, hurrying out of the kitchen without cleaning up behind you. Instead, you immediately locked yourself in the bathroom and turned on the tap to splash some cold water on your face. The icy temperature calmed you once it came in contact with your skin, reminding you of him—if only for a moment.

You were shaking. What on Earth was wrong with you? You took a quick shower to wind down, threw on an oversized sweater and then headed downstairs to the prison cells. A glance at the monitor of the security camera made you let out a relieved breath. Loki had indeed gone back to his Aesir form—and he did no longer seem to be in pain. It was, so you wondered, very unusual, however, to not complain and wreak havoc so the Avengers would let him out but then again… would they truly believe him if he told them he had overcome his heat?

With another deep breath, you opened the cell door and slipped inside.

“You were not supposed to see me like this last night. No one was.” He said quietly before you could even open your mouth, not bothering to make eye contact with you.

“Did you know? What was happening to you?”

“Yes.” He snorted, a bitter smile spreading on his thin lips. “I believed I would be able to control it.” Finally, he looked up, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Did I hurt you?” Your lips parted in surprise. Slowly, you shook your head.

“No… I mean… it was quite pleasurable… for me as well… actually.” You choked out sheepishly.

“Hmm… that I could tell,” Loki gave you a light smirk. “Thank you.” He said then—and for the first time since you had met him, you sensed true honesty and sincerity in his smooth voice.

“I’ll leave the door open.” You returned his smile; the planes in your belly flying loops.

“We are… keeping this between us, are we not?” He hastened to ask when you turned around.

“Of course.” After all, no one needed to know you had let Loki mate with you to regain control over his loins.

-

It was five days after your intimate encounter with Loki when your constant shaking became worse enough for him to notice—and if that wasn’t bad enough already, your body had begun to sweat; a lot. Day in and out, you had to change your sheets as if your bed was your personal sauna—or your personal hell.

You felt like you had been hit by a bus, like an extremely nasty form of the flu had you in its steel grip tightly, unwilling to let you go. Sleep, however, to get some rest and recover, would not come either. Two hours per night at most, three if you got lucky. And instead of getting better, it became worse.

He had been restless ever since. It could not be. After all, it had also never… or had it? Growling to himself, he locked the door to his room, enjoying the quietness and most of all, utter privacy.

Not a soul in the nine realms was aware he was still in the possession of the Tesseract. So when he produced it out of thin air—his large hand momentarily surrounded by a green mist—he made sure to hurry and quickly teleported himself back to Asgard. Heimdall would never open the Bifrost for him if he wasn’t accompanied by Thor.

He was worried about you and his surprise about these particular circumstances was remarkably low. When he closed his eyes, he could still taste your hard nipples on his tongue from when he had suckled on them. He remembered how warm your body felt against his when he had cradled you in his lap and the thought of your tight cunt around his throbbing cock stirred arousal in his leather trousers if only he indulged in reminiscences for too long. Most of all, however, he was unable to forget the sincere smile on your face when you had freed him from the cell the next day… and the mesmerised gaze you had met him with when he had ravished your sweet quim over and over again.

With another deep breath, he disappeared in an ice cold cloud of smoke.

-

Sneaking past the guards and into the palace library—the one place he had spent hours on end in growing up here, hiding away from Thor, his friends and the world, reading and hoarding knowledge—was pathetically easy. He knew exactly what to look for, what lecture would confirm his worrying suspicions. Once he found what he had been searching, he sat down on the windowsill—another usual spot he found comfort in—and began his research. He had known about the impact of a male Jötun’s seed on his female counterpart, of course; for even though he despised his own race, he, as opposed to Thor, had paid attention during their private tutoring lessons as children. The heavy book in his hands, however, made him, the God of Mischief and Trickery, hold his breath. What Loki had not known was that the repercussion of a male Jötun’s seed did not just occur in Jötun females. It applied to any species—including humans. However, the chances of survival for weaker lifeforms were alarmingly low.

Abandoning the book, he hurried out of the library and into the city. There was someone he needed to speak to.

-

“With all due respect, my prince but you are not welcome here.” Loki rolled his eyes. He knew it would not be fun, exactly, to seek out his ex-partners and ask about their well-being long after he had left them. The man opening him when he knocked on Sigyn’s door, a woman he had been engaged with for several years in his youth, was about as tall as Thor—his right hand decorated with a golden ring. Husband. Just great. And, judging by his obvious dismay of finding him on his doorstep, she must have told him about their shared past.

“I need to speak to your wife. Urgently. That is an order.” Sigyn’s husband growled, clenching his fists but stepped aside regardless. Loki made sure not to pay any attention to the furniture and his surroundings. Toys were scattered all across the living room, hinting that Sigyn had become both wife and mother in his absence. Her face fell when she spotted Loki standing in the middle of the small room—truly like he would even have preferred Helheim over being here of all places—as pale as a ghost.

“Loki… I mean… your highness. What… brings you here?”

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Um… by all means. Sit down. Would you like some ale?”

“No.” Sigyn pointed at the rectangular kitchen table and then sat down opposite of him. Her hands were folded on the surface of the polished wood.

“It is good to see you.”

“Likewise… Now this will sound odd,” he began unceremoniously, ignoring her husband towering above him with his arms crossed. “But I have to know how you fared after we separated. Not… emotionally. Physically.” He emphasised.

“Physically? That is indeed odd. Oh, I… um… let me see, it’s been such a long time. I had quite an appetite after you left,” she laughed, clearly uncomfortable with his presence. Loki sighed.

“An appetite. What more than that?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Except… yes, of course! I fell ill a few days after. The healers never found out what my body was rebelling against. It lasted for a few months. Tiredness, insomnia, attacks of sweat and I could not stop shaking. Why do you ask? Did you… did you experience it too?”

“No,” he replied quickly, a nauseous feeling spreading in his guts. You were showing the exact same symptoms. Symptoms of addiction. “You said it lasted for a few months?”

“I am sorry, your highness but is there a point to this interrogation? My wife has to feed the baby.”

“We’re almost done.” He barked, glaring at Sigyn’s husband from the corner of his eye.

“It did,” Sigyn confirmed. “But then it never returned.”

“Thank you. That will be all.” Loki took a deep breath and stood, resisting the urge to massage the bridge of his nose to clear his thoughts. It was only when he turned on his heel to leave this way too harmonic place that he noticed Sigyn’s husband had left the door open for him. He rolled his eyes.

“Loki! I-I mean, your highness…”

“Loki is fine, Sigyn. We have seen each other naked, after all.” Beside him, he could practically hear her husband gnashing his teeth. He smirked.

“I understand you do not wish to share with me what troubles you but whatever it is, I hope everything will turn out to be alright.”

Loki gave her a smile. It was as honest as he could muster in this tense situation. Sigyn had always known when he was being plagued by dark sorrows, even before he learned about his true parentage. Much like you. You too had been able to tell he had been unwell, both physically and mentally. He swallowed thickly.

“Thank you, Sigyn.”

He had to see Amora, too. They had not exactly gone separate ways peacefully but if she had experienced the same symptoms as Sigyn after their break-up, he had to get back to you immediately. And he had to tell you. The truth, a luxury given his nature, was the very least you deserved.

-

“Where have you been?” Thor roared as soon as he entered the kitchen to pick up one of those cold drinking chocolates you had introduced him to a while back—the ridiculous amount of sugar would help you, if only for a moment. The presence of Tony, Nat, Bucky, Steve and Thor, leaning against the counter or sitting at the kitchen table, he ignored as best as he could. He would have preferred to be alone now.

Loki quirked his eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Asgard, given that you were unwilling to get help yourself.”

“How? Heimdall wouldn’t…”

“There is a lot Heimdall does not know, brother.” Thor grumbled something he did not understand but it sounded awfully like a curse word in Old Norse.

“Whatever. Have you seen (Y/N)? Her room is down the same hallways as yours, has she left her room lately?” Tony barked at him.

“As far as I am concerned, she has Vision bring her excessive amounts of food, for she is too weak to come to the kitchen herself. No. I have not seen her around.” He replied nonchalantly, with false disinterest. This time, so it seemed, however, his choice of tone, equalled shooting himself in the foot.

“We need to get her to the hospital. None of the medicines I gave her worked even a little bit—and I contacted the best doctors I know.” Loki suppressed a scoff. As if a hospital full of human ‘doctors’ would be able to help you. The only one who could… was he.

“For Fuck’s sake, she has been feeling ill ever since…” Tony’s face fell. “Ever since we locked up your brother.” Belligerently, his gaze wandered over to Loki again. “Okay, Reindeer Games, what did you do to her and don’t even try to lie to me!”

“You do assume, automatically, that I have something to do with it?” He mocked. Tony clenched his fists.

“Loki,” Thor added calmly. “Do you… know something?” The God of Mischief sighed. If he told them, what little trust they had in his capabilities as an Avenger would vaporise like smoke. It mattered not. In fact, he could not care less if any of those self-proclaimed heroes even liked him. Yet if he spoke the truth… surely they would do anything in their power to keep you away from him—which was exactly what they could not do if they wanted you to survive and feel better again as much as he did. He could just take care of the problem on his own… sooner or later, however, they were bound to find out about their intimate encounters, and he was beyond keeping secrets like that. If he wanted to make love to you, then he would, may the Norns help him.

“It is… my seed.” He choked out reluctantly.

“Your… what!? Your… yeah, no, I can’t say that out loud without throwing up… is making her sick!?”

“The seed of a male Jötun is causing… an addiction. Withdrawal will make her weak and ill.” Loki looked up grimly. “Frost Giants live in strictly monogamous relationships.”

“What, like penguins? How did she even come in contact with… did you… did you rape her? I swear to God, I will kill you.”

“I did not lay a finger on her.” Loki replied darkly.

Tony threw his hands up in the air. “So how did your happy juice get inside of her in the first place then!? How did that happen, I wonder?”

“She came to me voluntarily, Stark!”

“But you knew? If you knew it would make her sick, why didn’t you stop her, you selfish asshole!?”

“How!? How, Stark!? Resisting the urge to mate in heat is like attempting to suppress a sneeze. It’s impossible. Don’t bother your pathetic human mind with things you do not understand.”

“Loki…” Thor began warningly. The God of Mischief ignored him with a hostile growl.

“(Y/N) would never do that.” Tony said then.

“Perhaps you do not know her as well as you thought you do.”

“You little shit, I will…” Tony jumped from his chair as if stung by an adder, prompting Loki to draw one of his daggers seemingly out of nowhere when he started at him. Both Natasha and Steve barely managed to hold him back.

“Leave it, Tony. This is Loki. He is just trying to provoke you.” Nat appeased.

Just this one time, however, they were wrong. Loki did, in fact, care about you. It was just he had not realised that until you had willingly offered your body to him when he had been in pain. Glaring at them darkly, he rose from his chair.

“I am going to fix this.” He spat. It almost sounded like a threat. “Not for you. I could watch you drop dead to my feet without so much as blinking. But for her.” Fuming, he stormed out, his right fist still clutching at his dagger in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. And as of right now, Thor knew better than to stop him.

He needed to see you. Remorse and guilt were eating him up from the inside out—and it wasn’t just the fact you had helped him in spite of everything he had done to Midgard only a few years back. It was… you were… Loki closed his eyes for a brief moment. You were his.

When he knocked on your door, there was no response. Now there was a chance you were asleep, yet he somehow knew better than to leave and try again later as to not startle you. After all… he was going to make you feel better.

He slipped inside, locking the door behind him with magic so you would not be disturbed. The sight of you almost broke his heart. You were trembling, buried under a pile of blankets, pale and weak.

“(Y/N)…” He spoke with a quiet voice, approaching you slowly. Your eyes opened when you heard his voice, your weak body barely managing to turn over to look at him. A cough escaped your lips before you could answer him.

“Hey…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” You tried for a laugh but could only manage another cough. With a straight face, he sat down on the edge of the bed so he was able to bring his palm to your forehead. You were incredibly warm, yet the sweat made your skin cold to the touch. His heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, he was worried you only had a few weeks left until your body gave up fighting the withdrawal. He would not, ever let this happen.

“I brought you some cold drinking chocolate.”

“Oh…” You chuckled weakly. “Thank you. Is that the only reason you came?”

“No,” he laughed. “I came to check on you.”

“An eye for an eye, huh?” Your eyes fell shut when you smiled.

“Hmm… I’m afraid it is a little more complicated than that.” He purred. You never noticed how his eyes fell on your crotch, even if it was covered by a bunch of blankets. Slowly but determined, he slid his left hand under the layers of fabric until he found what he was searching for. With skilled fingers, he began to massage your clit until he felt you responding to his attentive touches. You arched your back, your sex growing wetter and wetter fast—like your body knew exactly what would follow. Licking his lips, he scooped some of it up to spread all over your quim and create even more friction. You were squirming by the time he removed the blankets entirely and positioned himself between your legs, careful not to shift all of his body weight onto you.

Was he going to… did he… could he possibly… reciprocate your feelings? Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies awakening in your belly. If only you could…

“Loki… Loki, I… I really want to do this again too but… not now, I’m… I really don’t feel well.”

“Shhh…” He would ponder over your words later. You wanted to do this again too? Had it not just be compassion and pity that had driven you to offer him your most intimate parts for relief? And what if you refused him now? You had to trust him. So he shut you up by pressing his lips against yours, capturing them in a passionate kiss and then, once again slowly but determined, removed the blankets and peeled your pyjama from you until he had you naked—fine, he had helped with magic; and he was certainly too impatient to remove his own clothes, so instead contented himself with freeing his growing erection from his trousers only.

A whimper escaped your lips when you caught sight of his arousal, his tip—not blue but the colour of flesh this time—pressing against your entrance. He slid inside you to the hilt with almost no resistance, your warm pussy welcoming him in. Loki moaned when your walls gripped him tightly; it was like your body already knew his release would make it feel better. Only this time, he was in control. This time, he would take his time and make gentle love to you—right until you began to tremble underneath him for entirely different reasons.

Your eyes fell shut when Loki started moving, retreating almost completely only to plunge back deep inside of you fast and passionately. You were too weak to buck your hips, as much as you would have loved to. And despite your weariness, he felt incredible. You were unable to decide which form of his you liked better.

You kissed him again when his nose brushed against yours and his breath tickled your lips, bathing in the intimacy between you. But when he slid his hand down to where your bodies were united to pamper your clit all the while speeding up, hungry for his release, you stopped him, albeit gently.

“I… I don’t think I can, I’m too… but I… it’s okay.” You murmured. “Cum.”

It was a request he could not resist, not any longer. Thrusting forward a few more times, his release was beginning to overwhelm him. He groaned into your ear, his hot breath brushing against your cheek, and let his climax consume him. He was throbbing against your walls, his seed—surprisingly warm and not as cold as it had been the first time—filling you to the brim and until you could feel it dribbling out of you again. Loki stilled, turning you over so you both rested on the mattress on your sides, with his slowly softening cock still inside of you and one of your legs draped over his hips. One heartbeat passed, then another and another. And just like that… you felt like you had been reborn.

“How… I feel so much better.” Loki kept silent. Remorse was sparkling in his blue eyes. Avoiding your curious gaze, he looked down, with a start fascinated with the blue roses on your bed sheets.

“Loki?”

“You did fail to read all of it, did you not?” He stated quietly.

“What… what do you mean?”

“The book you took from my shelf. I looked it up when you got worse. It wasn’t until I left for Asgard that I realised why our… sexual encounter is making you ill.”

“I… wait… Does that mean you believe it has something to do with you? I mean… what we did? Is it… I’m not pregnant, am I!?”

“No. You are not.” He smirked at you weakly. “That, I would have sensed already. No… I’m afraid it is a little more complicated. Frost Giants live in strictly monogamous relationships. They never… switch their partners once they mated during their first heat. If they do…” Loki took a deep breath. “It appears that the seed of a Frost Giant triggers some sort of… addiction for their female partner. They develop a carnal craving for their seed which forces them to keep returning for… more.”

Biologically speaking, this was a downright bulletproof way of ensuring the survival of a species—the Jötuns’ own bodies turning against them and demanding sex. The gravity of his words, however, hit you only a moment later. So this was why you had been feeling so sick lately. You were showing signs of… addiction. Your body had become addicted to Loki’s seed. You swallowed thickly.

“I-is there… is there a way to stop this?”

“I went to speak to my former partners back on Asgard—which, to be frank, does not just sound like a disaster. But I needed to know if they experienced any symptoms similar to yours when we… separated.” You ignored the painful sting in your heart when he said ‘former partners’. Of course Loki had had sex before, had perhaps even been in love. He did not strike you as the type of Norse God who was unexperienced in the art of love making. After all, he had more than just proved this to you. It mattered not, not now.

“And… did they?” You probed nervously.

Loki nodded seriously. “They were both bedridden for months, plagued by uncontrollable trembling and sweating. Their appetite increased, they ate twice as much than they usually would without ever feeling truly full… and they barely slept anymore, tossing and turning for most of the night. Amora added she became increasingly violent as well. They, of course, believed it was a virus which would pass, eventually.” Terrified, you remembered how you had broken your plate in the kitchen the night after your lovemaking. It all made sense now.

But you did not dare ask what this meant. When dreaming of having a relationship with Loki, you had not imaged a partnership out of physical and sexual necessity which would feel like a chore to him; like an obligation now that you had helped him out, after all.

“But they were Asgardian.” He suddenly said, pausing to let his words sink in. “You are human. You are mortal. I am uncertain you would survive…” If I stopped having sex with you. Is that what he had meant to say before he stopped himself abruptly?

Taking a deep and shaky breath, you gathered all of your courage, as weak as it may be.

“This is all my own fault, Loki.”

“It is not—“

“N-no, let me speak. It’s my fault. You couldn’t help it. And I came to you on my own accord. But…” You swallowed. “Even if I had known, I still would have helped you.”

The God of Mischief frowned when you reached for his hand and held it—but it was a downright vulnerable expression.

“Loki… I’m not going to expect you to keep having sex with me if you don’t… I mean…” It was then he began to smirk cheekily.

“And if I do?” Loki had truthfully speaking always been a puzzle—always keeping his deepest thoughts and feelings all to himself. Until now. So he did reciprocate your feelings.

“Y-you do?” His smirk widened.

“It… does get better after a while, once the pair is more acquainted to each other’s bodies,” he continued. “And they are then able to spend more time apart without any signs of withdrawal showing. Ultimately, however, once the male Jötun claimed her, the female is bound to him… if he decides to keep her.”

Despite your weakness, you raised an eyebrow. “That sounds pretty sexist, Lokes.” Loki looked up. His heart jumped when you gave him a nickname.

“Sexist? No. Dominant? Yes.” He growled darkly.

“You’re right. It’s probably not sexist given that male Frost Giants go into heat.” You giggled in response. Loki tickled your sides for that remark, making you wriggle around on the bed. If your hunch was not deceiving your love-drunken mind, then the God of Mischief had just begun to court you.

“Loki?” You mused, raising your voice in a shy manner.

“Hmm?”

“I think I feel fit enough now to have an orgasm.”

The God of Mischief laughed—as heartily as you had never heard him laugh before. “Do you now?”

Next thing you knew he was already on top of you again, covering your naked body with tender kisses.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥  

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[writing-mlm]

late night snacks

Rin Okumura x Male reader

word count: 1k

warning: a kiss and like a single curse

      Things at True Cross Academy had finally started to settle down, buildings were restored to their former glory and people stopped looking over their shoulders so much to where sleeping was something almost foreign. But it was also exam season and the amount of studying you had to do was pulling you in every possible direction, with regular class studies, exorcist studies and your part-time job you barely had any time to yourself. 

    Which, coincidentally also meant you had little time to freely speak to your boyfriend. The only time you did have was passing in the hallways and sometimes during cram school ever since Yukio had placed him in the back for being a distraction.  And with Rin he hates not being able to do what he wanted, he would plead for hours to come to your dorm house or your study group whenever he could but to no avail. 

    You could tell he was pretty hurt by it, he must’ve assumed it was because of his whole being Satan’s son and all- which it wasn’t. In no way were you afraid of Rin, the same boy who tried to carry you to the infirmary when you fell off of a desk wouldn’t even think to hurt someone he cared about. So you decided to make it up to him by making him something. 

     It didn’t take long to figure something out, he loved food and you could bake well- your mother was the only person who had ever tasted your baking before so you held her praise lightly. You decided on cookies, some you could make a lot and have them be totally different within a somewhat short amount of time. Plus they were easy to munch on. 

    “Thank you so much, Bon! I didn’t expect to get so much,” You chuckled as he set the last of the grocery bags on your bed and huffed. 

       “I dunno why you’re trying this hard, Okumura is just being a baby. Get him a rock and he’d be happy.” While you had dumped the contents of the bag onto your bed, you stopped and turned to him with a slight glare. 

       “I like rocks- Rin gives me some all the time! Even Kon and Shiemi!” To prove your point, you gestured to the shelf of rocks (and some shells) behind him. He paused and turned back to you, almost disappointed that you’d be won over by minerals. But he left it there and the room, the door silently shut behind him left you to your thoughts and copious amounts of cookie making supplies. 

——

     Almost three hours later and you were finished with the baking and presentation for the cookies, there were around a dozen different types of cookies laid out on the platter. Your favorite being the dinosaur shaped ones. 

    It was around nine, so Rin would be at his dorm within the next hour so you had time to do some last minute preparations like wash the dishes and make the ice cream sandwiches you said you would only make if you had the time. But as soon as you turned around to face the sink you heard the laughter that could only belong to one boy. 

     “(Y/n)! Woah- look at that!” He shouted, having noticed the kitchen light was on and the smell coming from the back. It didn’t take long before he parted from his brother and entered the kitchen, his tail rapidly moving behind his back. 

         “Hello, my dove,” You smiled, although you were nervous beyond belief. There was still so much to do and you hadn’t even tasted the final project- what if the cookies tasted horrible or they were undercooked or worse, overcooked. You didn’t want to make scones! 

       “Did you make these?” He asked as he dipped his finger into the batter bowl and shoved some raw dough into his mouth. 

      “Uh- yeah, I wanted to just apologize for not spending time with you recently,” There was something about the way his eyes lit up and the way he smiled that made you forget about your worries. The pit in your stomach filled with butterflies as he scooped up a cookie and scarfed it down without a second thought. 

    “This is so good!” His eyes lit up as he wiped the crumbs from the corner of his mouth.  

        “Thanks… ah well, eat up, Rin!” You said as you moved away from him and grabbed the ice cream in an attempt to hide whatever expression you were making since you were sure it was nothing short of embarrassing. 

          “You never told me you were such a good cook, (y/n)!” 

       “I bake for fun, it’s nothing big,” You quickly dismissed and set down the vanilla ice cream before doing your best to leave the kitchen without bypassing Rin who had gone back to eating as many cookies as he could without choking. 

         “My stomach says otherwise.” It didn’t take much for him to grab your hand and pull you close, his tail wrapped around you for good measure. 

         “Rin, it’s nothing really. Plus I’m super tired, I should get back…” As you spoke, you tried to unravel his tail from around you and leave, the butterflies in your stomach did nothing but fly around faster. 

    “Okay, but you should have some. It would be a waste for you to not have some,” 

    “Fine, but then I have to go,” While you were getting situated to standing on your own again, Rin was getting a lunch box for the cookies. 

       “I was thinking-“ He slowly spoke as he closed the lid to the box. “We could have a picnic, with your baking skills snacks will be like- a thousand times better!” 

     “It’s not that good, Rin, please,” By the time he had finished you had slipped your jacket on and grabbed your phone from one of the kitchen tables. 

       “It’s amazing,” He whispered as he placed the box in your hand and kissed your cheek. 

     “I- uh-“ You blinked, unable to find what you were going to say and he laughed before walking you out of the dorms. 

#rin okumura #x male reader #rin okumura x male reader

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

watching you

Pairings - Lee Bodecker x Reader

Word Count - over 2.5k (loads of them)

Warnings - stalkerish Lee, arsehole ex, gun violence, eventual smut, breeding kink.

A/N - firstly if you are a minor then shoo, come back when you’re 18 please. Secondly thanks to my wife @buckyownsmylife​ for proofing this for me and as always hyping me up enough to post. This is for her 2k birthday challenge and if you aren’t already following her then what are you waiting for?

A/N 2 - @dreamslikeaheartbeat surprised me with this awesome mood board earlier and I love it. I encourage you all to go and have a look at her work she’s amazing and you won’t regret it.

Being one of the only detectives in this small town meant that most people respected Lee Bodecker, he would always get a table at the diner, always go to the front of the queue and locals knew to do what they were told when he asked.

That was until you arrived, moving here from another state you knew absolutely nobody and decided to open a coffee shop across from the station. The day before you opened you took a tray of coffees and freshly baked muffins to the station to say hi and let everyone know you were excited to get to know them. You had everyone under your spell with your first smile but Lee knew something was up, young girls like you don’t just move from big cities to small towns for the hell of it.

It took him a week but he had you, you were running away from your husband, he was a small time criminal but his wrap sheet was one of the longest Lee had seen in a long time. You were only married for six months before you showed up here and he wanted to know why, he was only protecting the town from future problems or at least that’s how he justified it to himself.

You weren’t due to open for another hour when you heard someone at your front door banging to be let in, you were covered in flour from making the cafes daily selection and didn’t really want anyone to see you like this but they were so persistent. Wiping your hands on the nearest cloth you peered out of the kitchen and were confused to see Detective Bodecker smiling through the window at you waving to be let in. You opened the door slightly and got a shock when he barged in locking the door behind him “hey sweetheart I’m glad we finally have time for a little talk” looking up at him slightly confused “I’m not open for another hour Detective can you come back then, I’m a little busy right now” turning your back on him and walking back to the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly he follows you standing a little too close and breathing down your neck “i said i wanted to talk” rolling your eyes you look up at him “and i said I’m busy” turning back to the bowl of blueberry muffin batter and adding more cinnamon, you’re about to mix when you see his thick finger dip into your bowl then into his mouth. He moans as he licks his finger clean and smirks as you visibly cringe at the sight “what the fuck! You can’t do that” you shout at him, furious inside as now you have to dump it all and start again. “Relax sweetheart you can make this my batch I’ll pay you for the loss” before dipping his finger again and pushing it into your mouth as you’re about to protest. You pull your head back and slap him across the face “get the fuck out of my cafe now, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You shout, watching as he wipes his finger across your apron and soothes his cheek “you’re feisty, i like it, we’re going to have some fun darling” and with that he turns and walks out leaving you stood in shock unable to understand what just happened.

A week goes by and he hasn’t been back so you put the little incident down to some sort of hazing and try to forget about it but you can’t, you see him all over town and he always seems to be watching you. You’re not sure what it is he thinks he’s going to catch you doing but he’s always there.

The next day you’re in the florists when you see him walk past and wink at you, enraged by his inability to leave you alone you pay for your bouquet and storm out looking for him. Marching down the street you can’t believe this is the first time in a week you haven’t seen his smug face watching you, you relax for a moment before you feel someone grabbing your arm and pulling you into the alleyway.

Your back hits the wall and you want to scream out but his hand is over your mouth before you can “you looking for me sweetheart?” He whispers in your ear, licking the outer shell and managing to dodge your knee as you attempt to introduce it to his balls. “You are trouble, I don’t like trouble in my town, I like an easy ride. I don’t want your shithead of an ex wandering into town and messing things up” your body stiffens at the mention of your ex and Lee noticing this chuckles “you think I don’t know who you are? Who he is?” You bite his hand to get him off you and suck in a deep breath “he doesn’t know where i am, he’s not going to show up here. Is that why you’ve been following me all across town you fucking creep?” Anger flashes across his face and he wraps his fingers around your throat “this is my town and I’ll follow who I like, do you understand?” You roll your eyes and nod your head knowing you aren’t getting out of this alleyway if you don’t “fine, follow me, see if I give a shit. I don’t do anything interesting anyway. If you’ve got nothing better to do than watch me all day so be it” he loosens his grip and takes a step back, admiring your bravery he doesn’t expect the punch to his gut as you pick up your things and walk away. Too winded to follow he watches you turn the corner and slumps down the wall to get his breath back.

The whole town loves your cafe and you feel settled as your regulars make their way in for their usual orders, enjoying the fancy coffee recipes you come up with everyday and clearing out your cakes by lunchtime. You hadn’t seen much of Lee since that day in the alley but you can always sense him nearby. His smell seems to have invaded your life in so many ways.

Closing down for the day you have your back to the door when you feel some hands wrap around your waist “why did you run away baby?”. Your blood runs cold, his voice makes your heart pound and his grip on you hurts probably leaving purple bruises on your sides, you try to pull at his thumbs to weaken his grip but he knows all of your moves now “baby come on didn’t you miss me?” Swinging your head back into his face he stumbles backwards giving you the chance to run for the back door, running through the kitchen you see Lee sitting on your counter eating some of your chocolate and looking smug “he’s here, he’s out there” pulling out his gun he stalks out to the seating area and sees him sat waiting.

“Well, well Ransom Drysdale what brings you out here to our little corner of the world?” Keeping his gun aimed at the man he keeps you behind him, protected, safe. Ransom sizes him up deciding what his next move will be when he stands moving towards them slowly “i don’t want any trouble. I just want my wife to come home with me, you can understand that surely?” Looking around Lee you scream “I’m not going anywhere with you! Now get the fuck out of my place” Ransom stops and stares at you, shaking his head “always so angry with me, come home and let me make you happy I’ll buy you anything you want you know that. Nothing is too much for my baby”. You grab the second gun off Lee’s belt and step out pointing it at Ransoms head “just leave me alone and go back home you don’t want me, you just don’t want people thinking you’re anything other than perfect” that's all it took he strode towards you unsheathing his blade screaming insults at you when you heard a loud bang and felt a warm splash on your face, looking at Lee he licks his lips “he can’t have what’s already mine and i won’t let anyone hurt you” he says walking towards you and catching you as you pass out in his arms.

You wake up in a hospital bed, your throat dry and your head throbbing. Looking around you’re shocked but not surprised to see Lee sitting in the chair next to your bed eating jelly beans and reading the paper “you’re awake” he says a little too loudly for your liking “Lee, what are you doing here. You took care of him I’m not a threat to your little town I’ll be gone before news travels round” he chuckles at you “oh you aren’t going anywhere sweetheart, we have unfinished business” throwing your head back you look up at the ceiling “what is it with men? Why do you all think you can control me?” He leans forward and licks your ear “you like me more than you realise, sweetheart. I’m patient though, I’ll wait” and with that he leaves, turning and winking at you before he exits.

It’s been a week since the incident, the police have cleared your cafe for opening again and quite a few of your regulars have arrived to help you with the cleanup, smiling at them all you unlock the door to let them in but scream when you see Lee sitting drinking a cappuccino at the counter “what the fucking fuck are you doing in here?” Walking up to him and turning him around on the stool “how did you even get in?” He looks you over checking to see if you’re ok “did you not realise this was my building sweetheart? I’ve got the master key I can come and go as I please” you groan loudly and turn to look at the damage, confused when everything seems normal you look back and see the biggest shit eating grin on his face “you're welcome sweetheart” kissing your head and walking out towards the station you watch him dumbfounded before making drinks for all the volunteers.

That was the start of his weird courtship, it never occurred to him that letting himself into the little apartment above your cafe and leaving flowers on your pillow was creepy, or that one time when he had your car towed because he thought he heard a weird noise one day when you came back from the market. It took him three months to ask you out and another two for you to agree but here you are now, wearing lingerie in his favourite colour excitedly waiting for him to come home. You sat on his sofa waiting to hear the jangle of his keys but they never seemed to arrive, you tried his phone but he didn’t answer either so you sat and waited. Next thing you know you’re being shaken awake by a sorry looking man who you haven’t decided is still your boyfriend, he looks you up and down blushing at the soft green lingerie you’re almost wearing “is this all for me sweetheart?” You scowl at him, angry that he’s almost three hours late and couldn’t send a quick text to tell you he’d be back when he could.

Running his hand down your face you bite the pad of his finger in warning “it was all yours hours ago, now I’m not so sure” sitting up and shifting away from him you try not to smile when he gets on his hands and knees and crawls to you for forgiveness. “I’m sorry there was a case, some kid we’ve been tracking for a while showed his face and I needed to go and see him”. You still won’t look at him so he kisses and nibbles up your leg the way he knows drives you wild his hands moving up your sides and pulling your bra down so he can rub and pinch your nipples relaxing once he hears a gentle moan from you. Kissing higher he licks around your belly button and nips at the flesh “you gonna finally let me fuck a kid into here baby? I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my son” grabbing him by the hair and pulling him up to your face “oh yeah and what if it's a girl?” You challenge him, going soft when he replies “even better, two of you to love for the rest of my life”. You pull him closer to you kissing him deeply, your tongue tickling the roof of his mouth making him jerk his hips forward before you pull back “you still have some making up to do” he smiles and pulls the tiny scrap of material covering your wet folds to one side before licking and nibbling at you like he’s a starving man. Your hands grip at his hair, his shirt, anything that will keep him exactly where he is, he knows exactly what you like making sure to spend as much of his time showing you as he can. He sucks on your clit, his warm mouth covering it before he flicks his tongue over it making you scream out his name, he could cum just from hearing you but tonight he’s going to give you all of him, it’s time.

He quickly strips as you come down from your high kissing your neck and jaw before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. You lay down watching him stare at you, you’ve never felt more loved than you do when he looks at you like this he always looks so grateful that you’re with him, he doesn't realise how much you love him. You hold your hand out and pull him down to you giggling when he almost falls, laying next to you he plays with your breasts “i can’t wait until these are full of milk for our baby” moving his hand down lower and rubbing your belly “until this is swollen and I have to care for you” his fingers move down lower, very slowly rubbing soft circles on your clit “fuck Lee, i need you” you whine, he leans down licking and nibbling on your nipple “you gonna let me do it? You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”. You grind your hips up trying to get more friction “please, fuck please” licking your ear “please what sweetheart?”

Not able to take anymore you grab him and push him down on the bed sinking down on his length, moaning at the stretch before leaning forward and kissing him. He grabs your hips and bounces you up and down, groaning loud at how tight you are. He needs you to come quickly or he’s not going to make it. His finger rubs at your clit pushing you over the edge squeezing his cock tight he cums hard, decorating your walls with his seed. You collapse forward and kiss his face all over, taking your time to appreciate him. He goes to move away but you grip him with your thighs “don't move yet, we have to make sure it all stays inside me don’t we” you smirk at his shocked face before laying on top of him content, already thinking of baby names and picturing the nursery.

#lee bodecker #lee bodeckerxreader #sebastian stan #bucky

[dreamii-yume]

I got something for the sk8er boi, having sex while live filming for his Onlyfans cause the b-day was feeling possessive

He is our sケイト boi.

At first glance, it doesn’t seem like a good idea. Cater had always been one of the eccentric seniors in the academy, always getting himself into trouble for a quick selfie and people have to pull him out of it every time. You could scold him, sure, but in the end, a playful apology with some hugs and kisses are enough to make your heart soft. Repeat that cycle over and over again, you just eventually got used to his idiotic but lovable ass, he’s just that kind of person.

Or at least, that’s what you thought but...

“Come on, (Y/N)-chan~! It’ll be fun I promise!”

You knew he had an account like that and yeah, it’s weird to think about when you’re about to fall asleep sometimes but you supposed it was whatever. Cater could tell you that he’s accessing a black market to buy human organs but at this point, you might’ve done nothing but bat an eye at it and tell him to do whatever he wants. It’s not like your strong enough to even prevent him from doing stuff like this anyway. But it’s a different story when he asks you participate alongside with him.

“Please~” He begs and begs, and normally you really wouldn’t do it, you still can’t even believe that he would ask something like this in the first place! You, of all people!

“N-No, I don’t think this is appropriate...” You whispered, but your voice trails off as Cater leans in closer. This is bad, he had always been that one guy who mastered the ultimate puppy-eyes that could charm anyone to do whatever he wants! You were no exception to that charm, in fact, you’re very weak against it. However, to add more salt to your already damaged pride, it was this bitch’s birthday! What kind of person decides to ask for this as a birthday gift!?

But the fact that you’re actually in here, covering your eyes from the burning stare of the camera before you, it shows that you have caved in eventually.

Naked from head to toe, you sat on Cater’s lap with a flushed face with his hand roaming around you, groping any flesh that they could come in contact with. With what you assumed to be your face as red as a tomato, your hands carried the role of protecting your eyes and your lips quavered as you felt one of your breast getting fondled with your nipples rolling around his fingers. You gasped and moan but tries to keep it at a minimum, it proved to be a difficult task however, as Cater’s other hand were in between your legs. “Mm...Hey, (Y/N)-chan...You don’t have to be shy.” He whispered, but not before suckling on your neck to leave a bluish mark. He then grabbed your wrist, forcefully pulling them apart so you could see the shame in you. “If everyone can see you for what you are right now, then don’t you think you deserve to look at them too?”

Your eyes to twitched as Cater opened your legs to show your little dripping pussy to everyone. At the corner of your eyes, you can see the live comments from here scrolling up in an incredible pace and you dread to think that some of them may be someone you know. “See~? Everyone’s so excited!” Cater cheerfully said and you shivered as his hand moves to rub on your slit. “...And I don’t blame them. They’re not the only ones who’s excited about all of this after all.”

Looking down, you widened your eyes as you saw his dick just beneath you, excited and eager to enter your hole. “N-No way...” You said, glancing at Cater from behind in a nervous manner. “T-There’s no way...It can fit inside...”

Cater only gave you a close-eyed smile. “What are you talking about~? Of course, it will! We’ll make it work!” He said, which only made you gulp down. Holding you by both thighs, you squeaked as he began to position his cock right at your weeping entrance. You began to breathe heavily, feeling Cater leaning closer to you by the ear once again. He bit the shell of that same ear, making you shudder. “Just leave it all to Cay-kun~”

And with a hitched breath and a squeak from you, he lowered you down and you immediately felt his snake going up inside you. You yelped out, trying to get used to the overwhelming pressure on your stomach and covered your mouth with your eyes shut tight. It hurts, Cater was forcing his girth all inside, slowly but impatiently until a final moan from you sealed it all and finally sheathed himself inside. You feel light headed with how surreal it felt and just barely, you saw yourself in his computer monitor. Legs spread out with Cater’s cock in you, the comments were still as crazy as ever which just filled you with even more embarrassment.

“Ha...There you go, it’s not too bad, right?” Cater chuckled in your attempt to cover your heavy-breathing self. He gulped, nuzzling on the side of your neck. “It feels good, (Y/N)-chan. Just relax and I’ll do all the moving from here, okay?”

You didn’t respond, but anticipated the moment he moved instead. You squeaked as you felt your walls contract due to having a foreign object banging against it over and over again. As time went on however, the pain eases up little by little to the point that it doesn’t hurt as much as before anymore. It was uncomfortable, sure, but that was probably because you weren’t use to Cater’s movement yet. Which you don’t find possible actually, considering he’s been thrusting inside you faster and faster.

Soon, the feeling slowly transforms into that of a pleasing sensation, one that you fear may be the reason why people gets addicted to something. You can’t control your moans anymore, the cock banging on the entrance of your womb was just too stimulating that you can’t focus on anything else. “C-Cater...!” You moaned his name as you can feel a knot in your stomach. “E-Everyone...Everyone is...Watching...!”

“Mm, that’s right~! Everyone can see you right now!” Cater confirmed which didn’t help as you began to whimper, the embarrassment getting you close to tears. Cater laughed, easing your state as he gave you a hug, whilst continue on grinding his hips against you. “Aww, don’t worry, Baby~ They won’t judge you!”

“Come on, I’ll wipe those tears away for you. We can’t have your cute face all swollen now, right?” He said, grabbing your wrist and raising them up. “How about giving them a peace sign? You’re feeling good, aren’t you? You have to relay that to your audience!”

“P-Peace...Sign...?”

“That’s right...!” You yelped out, louder than usual as Cater pounded against you with an extra punch. You cried at the rough action, but it didn’t stop your senior from doing it again and not stopping. A few more times and it already got you rolling your eyes upward and your tongue out as he rearranges your gut. “Come on, do it! Everyone will love it, Darling!”

“Nngh...!” You whimpered, as you weakly pulled out both your fingers in a peace sign, just like he said. The comments boomed once again.

Cater laughed whole-heartedly, gripping your thighs tighter and spreading them for everyone to see how battered your pussy looks. Soon, you felt an intense orgasm bursting out of you, nearly soaking the camera but Cater continued on abusing your cunt. You moaned out loud, bouncing in a speed that reached beyond human comprehension. Widening your eyes, you felt as if Cater had finally reached his high and thrust so deep inside you that your breath knocks off. With that, you felt a huge flow inside you and realized that he had finally came into a release.

Exhausted, you practically collapsed limplessly into Cater’s arms, who holds you tightly with a cheerful smile on his face. “...W-Whew...” He said, panting and looked over at the monitor in which his audience were still actively watching. “That felt good, huh? I told you, it’s better to do it with everyone watching!”

You groaned, puffing your cheeks, you honestly couldn’t see his point at all. All you felt was shame. But then again, you really can’t imagine Cater of all people to have a speck of shame in him. He could only laugh as he continues to read the comments. “See? Everyone is saying how cute you are! That they’re jealous and wants to be with you too!” He said with a smile.

“T-That’s...” You paled, hoping that this senior of yours won’t actually think of selling you out.

“But too bad~!” However, Cater hugged you tight, with the same laid-back smile but somehow, this embrace felt a lot more possessive than usual. His eyes looked dead serious as well, and is practically glaring at the camera. “(Y/N)-chan is exclusive to only me. She’s already mine, so stay the hell away, Bastards.”

Widening your eyes at the scary show of affection you received, Cater went back to his happy-go-lucky attitude and waved at the camera. “Well then, thank you for watching!” He said, sticking out his tongue as if he was taunting his own audience.

At first glance, this doesn’t seem like a good idea at all, but now that you’ve actually tried it, you can finally conclude...That this still wasn’t a good idea after all.

Yeah...Yume has no idea how to run an OnlyFans account too.

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #cater diamond #yandere cater diamond #Birthday Crumbs (Cater)

[getouswh0re]

pairing: kirishima eijirou x reader

genre: yandere, unhealthy relationships, gaslighting, peer pressure, blackmailing, mentions of school bullying, power play

synopsis: all you want is a peaceful languid life free of trouble, yet everything spirals downhill when a certain redhead wanders into your life out of nowhere. Worst of all, he isn’t planning to leave you for good.

****************************************************

one

“What is it that you want to ask me, Kirishima?” The spiky redhead sucks in a deep breath, feeling the rhythmic thrumming of his heart rising to a crescendo as he shoots a nervous glance at a nearby bush where his squad is hiding. It is going to be alright, he reminds himself. You have practiced the confession with Sero and Kaminari over and over again, all that’s left is for you to say the exact words in front of y/n again!

“I ... I know we have only been friends for a short while y/n, but I really like you! And I was thinking if there would be a chance for the two of us to try things out. Please ... please be my girlfriend! I promise I’ll make you the happiest person on the entire planet!”

For a while, silence dominates the air, leaving you shell-shocked and an extremely flustered Kirishima who turns his head away, refusing to stare at you in the eye. He cognises that this confession must’ve given you quite a bit of shock, yet he is willing to wait for you to reciprocate his feelings no matter how long it takes. Squeezing his eyes shut as he clasps his palms together, the redhead feels like he is waiting for your reply — akin to an answer from the heavens. Not until you open your mouth and what seems like an iridescent future for him has reduced to dust.

“I’m sorry Kiri ... I like you too, but I don’t think of you romantically.”

It takes you forever to muster up the courage you need to politely reject the bubbly redhead; and in all honesty, you can already feel your conscience berating you for doing so. Admittedly, Kirishima is a wonderful guy — with a bright personality, amazing quirk that would guarantee him a promising future in the hero industry. You, on the other hand, have a somewhat decent quirk as well; yet despite everyone around gushing about how great it would be for you to become a hero, your resolve towards being one isn’t as strong as your fellow classmates in UA. And you don’t want your thoughts to affect the other students in striving towards their ultimate goal. 

Including Kirishima Eijirou.

“... why?” Pangs of guilt shoot through your heart when you hears the redhead choking back sobs. “Why can’t we give one another a chance to work things out? Am ... am I not good enough? Did I annoy you? Or do you hate my hair? I — I can dye it whatever colour you want! Just to make you happy ...” 

“It’s not like that Kiri.” You place a hand on his hunched shoulders, attempting to cheer up his dejected spirit. 

“You are not annoying, nor did your behaviour put me off. You are a really nice guy to be honest, and you deserve a lot more. I’m not like you or the others ... I just want to live a normal life, and I don’t want my mentality of not being a hero to affect the rest of you who work so hard to reach for the stars. Plus, I’m sure you’ll meet a lot more amazing people like you out there once you become a professional hero ... and perhaps, you’ll find someone more deserving of your kindness and love. I wish for your happiness Kiri ... may you have the best of things coming your way in life.” 

With that, you spill out apologies one after the other, leaving the heartbroken hero-in-training behind. 

two 

Never would you have imagined that the act of turning down Kirishima’s confession eventually bites back at you like karma. 

Soon after the incident happens, words about how you reject the redhead has spread its way around the school like wildfire. Within the span of a day, you’ve become the number one gossip of the campus; wherever you go, dozens of eyes would trail after you as if they are lurking predators and you being the prey.

Many shoot you harsh dirty looks, raising their voices every time you saunter through the corridor about what an ungrateful, insolent bitch you are to break poor Kirishima’s heart into shambles. 

Insults are thrown your way, slips of paper filled with harsh messages flood your locker; and once in a while, some students would purposely stand in your way, intentionally bumping their shoulders into yours and shoving you out of the way. Even your own classmates from class A whom you’ve gone through thick and thin with side with the disconsolate male, muttering about how all of this would’ve been avoidable if you’d simply said ‘yes’. 

School has become an absolute nightmare for you for the next couple of weeks; and to make matters worse, the school authority doesn’t do much to alleviate the situation, merely giving verbal warnings about how bullying on school grounds is unacceptable before moving on with settling their own matters. You’ve tried to ignore everything that happens in school, you really did. Yet with the weight of it all come crushing down upon your shoulders, you eventually find yourself teetering on the brink of suffering from a mental breakdown. 

For countless nights you would cry yourself to sleep, burying yourself beneath layers of blankets in order to forget about the pain. Still, it does nothing to alleviate your suffering and you wake up to find the dark circles under your eyes growing bigger with each passing day. The vicious cycle continues, with you trapped in the centre of it. Perhaps this is your punishment after all — your consequence for hurting a fellow classmate who is loved by everyone. 

And maybe it’s about time you fix your mistakes before it is too late. 

“Kiri ...” You bow deeply as an apology at the surprised redhead when you manage to drag him out of the classroom during break time under the prying eyes of everyone poking their heads out from the corridor, brushing aside the mean comments reverberating in the air. 

“I’ve been thinking about it ... and I realise I’m wrong. Maybe I was too quick to jump to conclusions, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give things a try. I’m ... I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, and yes. Let’s give this relationship a try, shall we?” 

Oddly enough, the bullying vanishes into thin air once words are spread around the school that the two of you are dating. 

three

Being in a relationship with the boisterous redhead isn’t as bad as you had imagined, but you wish there is something you could do to get yourself out of this mess. Kirishima isn’t a terrible lover at all; he has been nothing but loving, kind and openly affectionate with you at all times. You would’ve regarded him as the perfect partner for life — if not the fact that he pries a bit too much about your personal space and social circle, making you utterly uncomfortable. 

You totally understand his intentions, albeit thinking that it would’ve been better if he knows not to cross certain boundaries. Regardless, every time you try to bring the subject up, Kirishima would invariably find a way to divert the topic of discussion. Still, you need to make sure he understands the message; and so comes a certain night, when you decide to sit down and settle matters with your boyfriend. 

“Eijirou, we ... we need to talk.” 

“What do you want to talk about babe?” 

“I ... I think I need a break — for this relationship I mean.” Hearing that, the redhead’s smile falters. 

“Why? I ... I thought everything was going perfectly! You’re happy, I’m happy. Isn’t that good enough for you?” 

With tears squeezed forth from the pro hero’s waterline, he lunges forth to grab at your arms, nails digging a bit deeper into your skin than a normal lover should. Despite wincing at the pain, you shift your gaze away from your crying boyfriend, reminding yourself of the inordinate number of occurrences that Kirishima has guilt-tripped you into pushing your boundaries. Seeing the unfazed expression on your face only makes chagrin seethe in the redhead’s chest even more. You love him just as much as he loves you, right? Why would you go to such lengths to destroy everything? Why would you risk all that there is to tear yourself away from his life? 

“Tell me babe ...” The rawness laced in his voice is more than evident to drive your frozen heart on the verge of breaking, his unanswered pleas coming out as a broken record. “Do you hate me that much ... that you want to leave?” 

Taking your silent nodding as a yes, Kirishima’s chest aches more than ever. Being a professional hero is never easy; the weight upon his shoulders increases excruciatingly as he steadily climbs up the ranks. Together with shouldering the guilt of the lives he once failed to save, the suffocation is immense. You are his elixir, his solace every time he returns home battered and utterly drained day after day of repetitive villain fighting. Your presence is all that it takes to save him, and he has become a hero — your hero. He has dedicated his all to protect the city.

So why couldn’t you just do the same for the sake of his sanity? 

“... I understand.” Pulling himself out of his pensive mindset, the redhead finally compromises. “But I have one last request: there would be a hero gala this Friday, and all I want is for the two of us to go as a couple for one last time before this relationship ends. Would ... would that be fine with you?” 

You agree without hesitation, relief surging through you as if a weight has been lifted off your chest. Your wishes have finally been answered, and freedom is just within arm’s reach. 

Or so you thought. 

four 

You hate him for putting you in the limelight. 

Still, you are to blame as well. Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so gullible in the first place, believing that Kirishima Eijirou is a man of his world. 

Staring at yourself in the mirror, a wry grin adorns your face as a team of makeup artists and hair stylists prepares you for the grand wedding, gushing about how lucky you are to charm your way into the chivalrous redhead’s heart and the privilege for you to be his one and only blushing bride (except that all of this is out of your own will — more like enforced onto you). Despite being dressed in the most elegant wedding gown you’ve ever seen and having your features accentuated with powdery makeup, you don’t feel elated to the slightest. Most girls would be thrilled on their wedding days, yet you couldn’t even bring yourself to smile. 

If you had unveiled Kirishima’s lies, would all of these happen in the first place? 

“Everyone ... there is something I would like to announce.” Having said that, the hero gives your hand a gentle squeeze whilst the two of you walk onto the podium situated at the centre of the banquet hall where the gala is held. Thinking that the redhead is about to reveal the breakup to the others, you don’t have much on your mind at that particular moment — that is. 

Not until the entire outcome of the jamboree changes completely when Kirishima gets to his knees without warning and pulls out a shimmering diamond ring before you even get to scream at him about what the fuck is going on. 

“y/n ...” Deceptively adoring eyes that make your stomach churn bore into the depths of your betrayed ones as the redhead shamelessly plays his trickster part well, ignoring your hushed protests while he pulls off an elaborate performance in front of the party guests, his sinister intentions masked beneath the innocent smile and corny confession of love. 

“For as long as I could remember, we have been with each other through highs and lows. You are everything to me and I wish I could cherish this bond for a lifetime ... would you make me the happiest man on earth — and marry me?” 

That son of a bitch —

Following that, claps and cheers resonate in the expanse of the arena, overshadowing the choked sobs ripped from none other than your throat. You should’ve expected this, for a lovesick bastard like Kirishima to resort to such abject measures when he runs out of options to make you stay by his side, forcing you to accept his proposal under the pressure of the gathering crowd. 

You hate him.

You despise him more than anyone else. That said, it isn’t like you have a choice to get yourself out of this predicament; and with a heavy heart, you could only follow along the scripted play, feigning tears of joy as you reluctantly mumble your response. A cheeky smile stretches across your fiancé’s face as he does what every engaged couple would do: slipping the ring onto your finger and showering you with kisses whilst surrounded by incessant blessings of fellow pro heroes and friends alike. 

“You look stunning today, love.” Catching a glimpse of slicked vermilion hair, you cannot think of an alternative response other than flashing the grinning groom a prominent scowl. “Now don’t give me a face like that. It’s our wedding day, we should be happy right —”

“Cut the bullshit.” You spit with raging fury, tears rolling down your face as you back away from your husband-to-be. “You’ve ruined my happiness and my future, yet you have the audacity to act like this? To be all smiles in front of me? I never want to be with you in the first place Kirishima Eijirou! Hell — I never want to date you!” 

Your words pierce his throbbing heart, but the redhead can’t care less. Taking a step closer at a time, he easily towers over you; tenderly caressing your stained cheeks, Kirishima gives his final warning. 

“Love, it’s my word over yours. Who do you think people would believe? An up-and-rising pro hero, or a civilian like you? Also, even if you manage to leave me, how long do you think you can sustain your own living out there? I wonder if anyone would hire you ... if I told them every bit of info I have on you —“

Pupil-blown and legs shaking, you fall limply beneath his intense stare. 

“You ... you wouldn’t dare!” 

“Oh yes I would.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Kirishima saunters out of the door. “Now ask your stylists to touch up on your makeup, wouldn’t want to look like a crying mess on your special day. Would you?” 

#ri.writes #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere oneshots #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #kirishima eijirou #kirishima bnha #yandere kirishima #yandere kirishima x reader #kirishima oneshots #kirishima imagines #kirishima drabbles #kirishima scenarios #reader insert #x reader

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

12 Days of XXX-mas Collab Day 9: Frustration

(Tomura/F!Darling)

Link to the collab masterpost (warning: contains dark content)

Word Count: 1322

Warnings: Spanking, whips, noncon, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair. Tomura paced angrily back and forth in his dingy bedroom, stealing glances at the naked and bound woman he called...well, lots of names: Player Two, Darling, his little slut, stupid whore, pretty girl, my doll. He'd dragged her by the wrist, carefully holding his pinky just above her skin to just threaten her with the possibility of disintegrating her if she resisted him. ____ had always been too afraid to resist him, and soon she'd found herself lying face down on the bed with her arms and legs tied to each bedpost. 

Tomura had fucked her plenty of times, taking out years of repressed sexual frustration and trauma on his sweet sobbing ____. But he could never let loose completely; one misplaced finger and she'd disappear into a cloud of ash. Every time he touched her, he needed to either wear his three-fingered gloves--and not get to touch all of her without that annoying cloth in the way--or hold his fingers in an awkward position the entire time he was pounding into her as she squealed and squirmed. It wasn't fair. Why does he have to hold back, even now? Why can't he just touch her as much as he wanted?

All for One had refused to even temporarily take away Tomura's Quirk, just so his successor could enjoy an extra bit of carnal satisfaction. Tomura had asked and demanded and begged (in that order),  but All for One had refused to budge; instead, he'd given Tomura a small "accessory" to use whenever he wanted to take out those frustrations from not being able to touch her the way lovers normally could.

Tomura clenched the handle of the small whip in his hands, glaring at ____'s quivering body as she tried to lay down comfortably in her restraints. "I just want to touch you," he sighed irritably. "I finally have a girlfriend and I can't even do everything I want to you." He huffed and absentmindedly twirled the whip back and forth, watching the strips of leather spin around in the air. 

____ shifted uncomfortably. She hated it whenever he was upset; by now she'd learned to associate it with him roughly grabbing and biting and violating her until her legs were barely able to move. "I...It's okay," she said, trying to reassure her captor. "You have your gloves, r-right? So you can touch me as much as you want--"

"I KNOW that," Tomura snapped, clenching his fist and bringing down the whip against ____'s left thigh. She screamed in surprise and alarm at the sudden harsh sting, and she immediately began to cry and sniffle. "I want to touch you without those stupid fucking gloves. I wanna put all five of my fingers on you, and IN you--" he whipped her other thigh, watching her ass and hips jiggle as she yelped and recoiled from the pain again. "And I can't do that without Decaying you."

____ sniffed and whimpered, burying her face into the mattress to try and muffle her pathetic sounds. "'m sorry," she said, not sure what she was supposed to say or do to make him feel better. "Sorry…"

Tomura scratched the back of his neck. "It's not your fault, idiot," he sighed. "It's…" He growled in frustration and put his gloves on his hands before picking up the whip again, trailing it up the curve of ____'s reddening ass. "I just need to get this out of my system." He ran his other hand through his messy, tangled hair and then pressed up against her. "Be a good girl and take it." After hastily pulling down his pants and boxers, he pressed the fat head of his cock up against her entrance.  When he heard her muffled whimper as he lined himself up with her, he let out a shivery chuckle. "You scared of me, huh?" He dragged the whip lower and let the leather strips tickle her cunt. He saw her entrance clench at the strange sensation, already glistening from arousal after barely any foreplay. "Or," he trailed off, his voice dangerously low. "Maybe you like this…"

____ frantically shook her head as she felt him lift the whip again. "N-no, please, not there! I--"

She was cut off as she felt the wind rush out of her lungs, and a loud harsh smack rang in her ears. There was a quick, barely painful feeling of the whip first hitting her most sensitive skin...and then came the sting from between her thighs. A new round of sobs left her lips as she cried hysterically into the mattress, begging Tomura to stop.

Tomura let out a perverse little giggle as he felt a few drops of her arousal that had coated the end of the strips land on his stomach. "Stop? But you're having so much fun," he teased. He whipped her pussy again and again, his breath hitching as he watched her hole clench and spasm around nothing with every strike. 

More of her arousal dripped from her thighs onto the bed and the end of the whip, and her entire crotch was bright red. Every hit left her feeling so raw and like her cunt was on fire. This was so much worse than anything else he'd done to her so far. It hurt so much. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt...She shrieked and sobbed harder as he struck her over and over, hating herself for the white-hot feeling of pleasure that had started to mix with the pain. 

Tomura continued to whip her thighs, asa, and pussy for just a few minutes, but to her it was a torture that felt like it had lasted hours, DAYS. When he finally stopped, wincing at how sore his wrist had become from bringing down the whip over and over, he noticed that he actually felt less angry than before. Who cared if he couldn't touch her with his fingers when he could use this little toy? Now he wouldn't be the only one of them who was miserable; now she could feel on the outside the way he felt on the inside.

He tossed the whip aside and wrapped his arms around her, kissing and licking the shell of her ear and her jawline from behind. "There there, no more," he murmured softly. He rutted his hips against her backside, feeling his precum mixing with her arousal. She hissed at the feeling of his cock pressing up and rubbing against her raw skin. "Here, this'll feel better than that whip." He used one hand to guide his length into her aching, abused hole, pushing past her lips and immediately feeling her squeeze around him. She hiccuped and gasped for breath as he filled her up slowly but surely. 

Ever the sadist, Tomura smiled darkly as he started out at a slow pace. "Well...not MUCH better," he added. "But you'll just have to take it, won't you?" Suddenly he pistoned his hips, slamming in and out of her at a feverish pace. ____ begged for mercy but slowly devolved into a mewling, howling mess as he fucked her with as much force as he could muster. As he felt the pressure in his balls come closer and closer to bursting, he leaned down and grabbed her nipple to tweak and pinch with his gloved finger while he bit her neck to leave a series of bruises and hickeys.

That's right, he thought to himself, cumming inside of her with one final thrust that slammed into her battered cervix. I can't touch her all the way, but she still has to take EVERYTHING else I give her. She's MY whore. MY pussy. MINE. 

"Mine," he rasped, bottoming out inside of her and collapsing against her back. She was shaking underneath him, whimpering and moaning pathetically as his cum leaked out of her reddened pussy. "M-Mine…"

#yandere bnha #tw: noncon #yandere tomura #yandere shigaraki #.bnha #.tomura

[lowkeyorloki]

Chaos and Control

Anonymous requested: I have a request! The reader is part of the Avengers team, but is more on the technology side and babysitter if need be; like when Steve Rodgers at the end of the first Captain American movie. But the reader is in charge of babysitting Loki and Loki can’t help but be intrigued by the reader. Loki ends up kidnapping the reader when escaping from the Avengers and somehow protects the reader throughout the events of NY!

Anonymous requested: Hello, just found your page and I have a request if it hasn’t already been done yet. But Loki meeting his significant other for the first time and trying his hardest to stay away, but the readers niceness has a warmth that Loki can’t deny no matter how hard he tries.

I hope this first anon doesn’t mind if I tweaked the prompt a bit! Instead of kidnapping the reader, Loki just runs into them in NYC. It should still work :D

~

Loki’s eyes glinted.

“You seem to have held back all your life. Allowed yourself to be controlled under guise of following orders.” Loki stands up a little taller, reminding you of just how small you are to him. “...Don’t you ever just want to let go?”

“I don’t have that luxury,” you respond, watching Loki from the other side of the glass. He sits in his prison, much more confident than he probably should be. “It’s not that simple.”

“My life greatly improved when I realized it is.” Loki tells you.

“You turned your back on a whole kingdom.”  you say, knitting your eyebrows. Loki clenches his fists- a movement you would have missed if you’d blinked. 

“They turned theirs on me first.” he retorts. You see something change in him- a flicker in his eyes.

Sadness.

Without thinking, your press a hand up to the cool glass that divides the two of you. It’s silly, stupid even- Loki is probably going to rip you to shreds, make fun of you to no end.

But he doesn’t. In fact, the god stands up, almost like he’s going to walk over to you and place his own hand against yours.

Fury barks your name from behind you. Giving Loki one last glance, you walk away. 

~

Loki has been in custody for three days. With Natasha having blown her facade with him to get information, it’s your job to watch him.

Thor insisted Loki be allowed nourishment, so you give him meals as well. You slip his meals into his cell through the small window.

Loki never eats unless you do too. It’s always silent, and one of you is always watching the other. 

You tape little notes under the plates to give to Loki. They don’t even say anything. They’re just doodles, of flowers or clouds or whatever else you thought of.

If Loki notices, he doesn’t mention it.

~

You’re not blind to the eyes of the Avengers or other S.H.I.E.L.D agents on you. You’re used to it, it comes as no concern.

But maybe it should.

“It’s not innocent, little one.” Loki says as the man who debriefed you leaves. You glance at him, and Loki is as close to your side of the glass as he’s ever been. 

“What’s not innocent?” you question him, training and information extraction skills at the ready. Loki may distract you, but not entirely. You still have a purpose here. 

“The stares.” he answers, like it’s perfectly clear. Like you’re a fool for not knowing. “It’s not because you’re new, or stronger, or faster. It’s because you’re different. You kind doesn’t like that.” he quiets down. “Neither did mine.”

You take a step closer- if there was no barrier between you and Loki, you two would be able to touch.

“You don’t know me.” you say, but it’s not a threat. You don’t declare it as a triumph. You just... state a fact. Not a good or bad one. 

Loki blinks, then turns away.

No, he thinks. Not yet.

~

When Loki makes his escape, it’s a grandiose event. There are explosions everywhere, the Hulk has been unleashed, and you’re still having to break up fights between Steve Rogers and the Ironman himself.

You’re sent after Loki, running after him and dodging every stray bullet, flame, and pieces rubble that’s sent your way. 

He’s in a jet of some sorts, one that he probably can’t fly by himself and will crash if he tries. The door is open, an empty seat next to him. Loki says nothing, but just like yours, his attention is drawn to the passenger seat. 

Almost like he was asking you to join.

The engine stalls and makes noises it shouldn’t, but it’s somewhat up in the air and leaving the helicarrier before you can react.

Before you can make a choice.

The blast sends you flying backwards, hitting your head. The last thing you see is Loki flying away. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is an omen.

In the back of your mind, you’re almost glad he escapes.

~

It’s New York, but it’s different. 

The city was never boring, least of all right now. 

The Chitauri are everywhere, and so are the civilians they’re attacking. Every abandoned shoe, doll, backpack makes your heart heavy. You hope they were simply dropped, as opposed to...

As opposed to...

You didn’t want to think of the other possibility. 

The rest of the Avengers are headed towards the epicenter of destruction, hoping to find Loki.

You think back to your days spent with him. You listened to what he had said. You’d seen the looks of scorn he gave Thor. 

Thor stole glory from Loki, banished his younger to the sidelines.

That’s where you figure he’ll be now. 

New York is a huge city, with lots of alleys to hide in. You can’t possibly look down them all.

And yet, you’re determined to try. No one else, not even Loki, had to get hurt. 

He’s waiting for you, on the outskirts of the city. You hit his armored chest as you round a corner, bouncing back far enough to look at him.

Loki’s form makes your heart skip a beat.

He’s godly, now, that much is sure. His helmet is tall, reflecting the sun, and his scepter emanates power. Loki’s robes are adorned with gold, and the brilliant green shows every curve of his muscled self. 

This doesn’t seem like the same battered Loki you met in the S.H.I.E.L.D compound. This was a lethal man, capable of being terrible.

But also of being kind.

Loki wordlessly walks towards you, taking advantage of your shell-shocked self. He looks forlorn, reaching up and running his thumb over the stitches on your forehead.

Stitches from his escape. You flinch when he touches them.

“Not you.” he murmurs. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Loki is tangible now, and with no glass to separate the two of you, you reach out. Your hand finds its way under layers of metal and leather and cloth until it rests on Loki’s bare chest, just over his heart.

It beats steady under your hand, but faster than you would have thought. As if your touch excited Loki.

You stare at each other, until Loki closes his eyes, muttering a chant under his breath. In an instant, the gash on your forehead is healed, leaving you feel more alert in its wake.

“Thank you.” you whisper, the first words you’ve ever spoken that are meant for Loki and Loki alone. There’s no one to hear them, no supervisors or agents. 

Just you.

He gives you a sad smile, pulling away. He begins to leave, cape trailing behind him.

“Wait.” you call out. “You can stop this.”

Loki turns back, still looking kind and kingly. Your breath catches in your throat.

“No.” he says sadly. “I don’t think I can.”

“I know this isn’t what you want.” you say, you beg. This isn’t Loki, this was a front. Why wouldn’t he save himself?

“I’m glad someone could see that.” Loki muses. He looks over your shoulder at the impending chaos behind you. His face crumples, like it pains him to see it all. “Just... wait for me. When this is all over, all said and done.”

You aren’t given a chance to respond before Loki disappears into thin air.

But then, you don’t think you have to. Loki knows.

He doesn’t know your mind yet, but he knows your heart. You’ll wait for anyone who needs you. 

Especially him. 

#there are definitely some liberties taken in regards to the avengers movie lmao #loki #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fic #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fic #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x you #avengers (2012) #avengers 2012

[immersional]

eight - c!wilbur (dream smp)

genre: angst ):

word count: 1454

warnings: blood, character death, explosions, fighting, dream smp election arc & wilbur’s downfall

authors note: uHm so this is my first time ever posting my writing on tumblr… this is genuinely probably the worst thing you’ll ever read so that’s just a preface. also I didn’t know exactly what to put for like - the warnings - so if anyone could help me with those that’d be great! all that aside, i hope u enjoy ): i REALLY recommend listening to eight by sleeping at last whilst reading this! ALSO i didn’t proofread it so if it’s bad or has grammatical errors I am very sorry.

****

I remember the minute,

It was like a switch was flipped - 

“Tommy, I am a slow-burning fuse. I am a long, slow-burning fuse, but I’m telling you now, over the next couple of weeks, I’m gonna be a different man the one Schlatt crossed.” 

Sounds, sounds of joy and celebration, infiltrated my ears as we clambered to the top of the hill and stared down at the very inauguration that we were dismissed from. Although, some may say, less ‘dismissed’ and more ‘chased away by an entire city with fire arrows and netherite swords’. 

Tommy was speaking from his spot beside me, but the words failed to register as I observed the way Niki slid away from the function and began making the journey back to her bakery. The way she furiously wiped at her eyes as she cautiously checked behind her was a painful reminder that she could no longer feel safe in her own country. 

How did this happen? We won the war. We won our freedom. Now we had nothing. 

God that was so long ago, long ago, long ago…

I was little, I was weak and perfectly naive,

And I grew up too quick.

“I know you’re scared, Tommy, I understand you’re scared. And it’s scary! It’s scary Tommy, but you know what? In a time like this, when a man has nothing to lose, do you know what that means? It means we can do what we want.” The laugh that exited my chapped lips was dark; I could tell by the look on Tommy’s face that he was taken aback by my words. 

He stuttered. “Wilbur, I don’t know what you’re trying to say but-”

“Have you not noticed? Everyone who is claiming to be on our side, they’re lying to us! Tubbo?! He’s lying to you! He would drop us the second he realises we’re not in the lead anymore.” 

“No, no! STOP IT!”

It was a mixture of unexpected and expected, the fist that flew across my face. As I fell to the solid concrete floor of the ravine I realised that Tommy was still in denial. He still believed there was a route we could take ending with us regaining L’Manburg and going back to the way things were before Schlatt came into power. 

“You’re being reckless, Wilbur.” It took me a few minutes to focus on the hand reaching out to me, but in a few fleeting moments I was back on my feet with Tommy watching me with a hard stare. “You’re not the man that came in as president.” 

Another dark chuckle. “I told you, Tommy. What did I say to you the night we were exiled from L’Manburg? I said I was a slow-burning fuse, and right now I’m closer than ever to exploding.”

I’m all in, palms out, I’m at your mercy now and I’m ready to begin.

“Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo? Nothing good.” 

Tommy was visibly shaking. A crossbow, wielded by Technoblade, was pointed straight at Tubbo’s forehead. One shot, one life lost. 

The button.

Without another thought, my legs began carrying me from the top of the building and down to the mountains behind L’Manburg. Chaos was ensuing behind me, but that was fine. It could all be fixed by the button. The button connected to stacks upon stacks of TNT underneath the country I built from the ground up. 

My fingers clawed urgently at the dirt as sweat began to gather in beads on my forehead; grime and filth began to cover my body as I raked through the mountain in search of the room. Where was the button?

What seemed like hours, but was only minutes, passed by before my arms gave out and I collapsed against the mountainside. It hurt to breathe and the rain began pouring from the sky, battering down on me like a thousand punches. 

I laid there until I heard the distant cries of the citizens of L’Manburg. A L’Manburg that was no longer mine. My unfinished symphony.

And I’ll give all I have, I’ll give my blood, give my sweat - 

An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken. 

Blood coated the floor from where my knees were being cut open by the cobblestone. My breathing was uneven and my nails were leaving deep red indents on my palms. With every sound, sounds of joys and celebration, that filtered down through the walls, I came one step closer to pushing the button. 

Would it even work? Was the TNT even connected anymore? My battered hand hovered sadly over the wooden square. 

“The thing that I built this nation for doesn’t exist anymore. Th-The thing that I worked towards… doesn’t exist anymore. It’s over.”

A gust of wind swept through the room. “What are you doing?” 

I didn’t need to turn my head to know who was behind me. He’d come to persuade me to make the ‘right’ decision, the ‘better’ decision; just like Tommy had endeavoured towards many times before. 

“Do you know what this button is?” My voice was shaky, and it was then I realised my eyes were beginning to cloud and become blurry. “Have you heard the song? On the walls? Have you heard the song. I was just thinking that there was a special place where men could go, but it’s not there anymore. You know?

Footsteps. “It still is there. You just won it back, Wil!” 

“Phil.” I spun around to face him, and by the look in his eyes I saw that I was nothing but the shell of the boy he watched grow up. “I’m always so close to pressing this button, Phil. I’ve been here - like - seven or eight times now.” 

Fireworks began to go off outside, followed by terrified screams and the clanks of swords being unsheathed. They were fighting. Ten minutes ago, they were rejoicing in the face of a new government and now they were trying to kill each other? 

“You fought so hard to get this land back… you fought so hard.” He was pleading, begging at this point to get me to change my mind. Phil was trying so hard to coerce me to leave the room, remove the TNT and go back to the way things were.

Nothing would ever go back to the way things used to be. If nothing changed, then history would just continue to repeat itself. Although I could hear Phil speaking to me, it seemed like the button was speaking louder. Pleading, begging me to press it and end everyone’s suffering once and for all. End my suffering once and for all. 

“Phil…” I turned away from him for the last time. “There was a saying Phil. By a traitor. A traitor who used to be a part of L’Manburg - Eret?” With every word spoken, I felt my throat begin to close up.

 “He had a saying, Phil,” A sharp exhale. “It was never meant to be.”

There was a moment. A moment that I thought it hadn’t worked. Had Tommy or Dream removed the TNT? What if Schlatt had realised and gotten rid of it before he died? 

An incredible amount of thoughts ran across my mind, but they came to a halt when the first piece of TNT went off. As the city I created and once ruled began to detonate, as the bawls of the citizens of L’Manburg increased and became fiercer, I just threw my head back in euphoria. 

The ground shuddered and broke beneath my knees. Phil’s exclamations of horror were heard behind me as the button room was unveiled to the perplexed and panic-stricken faces of old acquaintances, friends and enemies. Tommy’s eyes were wide and full of tears as he gaped at the damage the explosion had done. Niki’s face held an expression of extreme despair whilst she fought to pull a distraught Tubbo away from the massacre. 

As the smoke began to drift up from the rubble, I quickly realised that my job was done. 

‘Phil, kill me. Kill me, Phil.” I pulled out the diamond sword I carried with me and slid it towards the man who’d raised me. “Stab me with this sword, murder me now, kill me. They all want you to, so do it.”

“I- You’re my SON!” 

“Look at how much work went into this.” Ignoring the searing pain from my bloody knees, I stood and gestured towards the broken country. “Look how much time and effort went into this and it’s gone. Do it. Do it.”

Wilbur Soot was slain by Philza

Now you won’t see all that I had to lose,

And all I’ve lost in the fight to protect it.

#dream smp #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #dream #dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #wilbur #ghostbur #vilbur #l'manburg #angst #philza #wilbur x reader #c!wilbur x reader #dream smp angst

[the-coffee-story]

Rise of the Forest God

Chapter 2 - The Forest God

When Agatha came over to visit the next day, she found herself baffled when Alice opened the door with a wide smile.

"Agatha, you won't believe what happened!" She was giddy. "Oh, it's so wonderful!"

Agatha furrowed her brows and tried to peer her head past her shoulders and into the space between the doorway. "What is it?"

"He's back!"

"Who?"

"Eustace!"

"What?!"

"Come and see for yourself!" Alice excitedly jumped up and down and took her by the hand. "He's still weak, and he won't speak, but he's here!!!"

"Alice, that's-"

"Come with me!" She dragged her along to the living room, excitedly murmuring the whole way.

Agatha froze in the doorway, mouth slightly agape.

It was him, undoubtedly, but even as he raised his head and turned it to them, he didn't look like he was still among the living. His skin was white and mottled, and he was sitting so still he looked like a corpse at first. His face was empty of any expression or life, as if his soul had been left behind somewhere far away. "Eustace, look, Agatha's here!" Alice was beaming, skipping over to the still figure.

Agatha felt the blood draining from her face.

Whatever was going on, this was not natural. And yet Alice was as joyful as she hadn't been in months. Agatha was torn. Should she tell her to leave him? What had happened to him? Or should she let it be?

"I-"

"Yes, I know, he looks exhausted." Alice's voice was soft as she sat down next to her silent husband. She softly stroked the back of his hand. "But he's going to be fine again, aren't you, Eustace?"

His chapped, white-blue lips moved, only slightly, but no sound came out. His face was as expressionless as that of a deadman.

Agatha shivered, and took a stray step back. She couldn't bear to be within his presence any longer. "Well, I... I wish you two the best of luck with th-that then... I just remembered I still need to fix my husband's coat, he ripped a hole in it again, he's so clumsy..." She laughed nervously. "I'll see you then... goodbye!"

With that she rushed out.

***

"Zombie." The child grinned.

"Don't interrupt me." The mother gently booped her child's nose.

***

Months had passed. At first Eustace's miraculous return was nothing but a rumour, but then Alice began bringing him outside, and soon everyone knew that something had happened. By the time it was summer, despite whispers of witchcraft and unholy entities, the majority of townsfolk had simply accepted the strange pair. There wasn't much else to do.

It was a warm summer afternoon. The sun was drowning the world in a deep golden glow and the birch trees were softly swaying in the wind like it was singing them to sleep. Alice and Eustace were sitting in the garden and she was making a flower crown for him. He still hadn't said a word since his return, but it didn't stop her from trying. She loved him. She loved him so much.

She put the crown on his head and adjusted it a little. "There. Isn't it lovely?"

He turned his head a little, then reached out a bony hand to feel the soft petals between his fingers. The ghost of a smile was barely visible on his pale lips. Alice smiled and snuggled up to him, wrapping an arm around his thin frame and gently placing her hand on his. She closed her eyes. "I love you."

She heard someone call her name and looked up. Agatha was standing by the old wooden fence and waving. "Alice, can you come over for a minute?"

"I'll be right back, dearest," she told Eustace. Then she got up, brushed the grass off her dress and ran over to the fence. "I'm coming!"

Agatha's face was serious. "Alice, I wanted to warn you."

"What is it? If you're talking about the apple tree don't worry, I already cut the branch before it could break off and hurt someo-"

"The shepherd was found dead in the forest."

Alice paled. "My God. What happened?"

"Something tore him up. Nobody knows what it could have been."

"A wolf? A bear?"

"Something worse." Agatha's brown eyes were narrow, and stared into the garden just in front of her.. "Where was Eustace last night?"

"Well, he went outside to catch some air at around midnight..." Alice's heterochromatic eyes widened. "Good God, he could've gotten himself killed! I'll make sure to tell him not to do that!"

"Alice, don't you think-"

"My God, thank you for the warning Agatha, he could've come to harm..."

"Alice!", Agatha suddenly snapped, grabbing her arm before she could turn and run back. "Come back to your senses! Whatever that...that thing is, it's not your husband!"

"He just needs some time!", she pleaded, flinching her arm away. "He's going to be alright! He just needs a bit of patience and care, and then it's all going to be alright!"

"Alice, he is literally a rotting corpse, it's time to just let it go!"

"He needs me!!"

They both glanced over at the young man sitting, alone, in the thick grass. He was still wearing the flower crown and softly swaying back and forth with the dancing trees. There was even some kind of tiny smile still plastered to his pale lips.

"Alice, this is madness," Agatha muttered, more to herself, if anything.

"Give me some time," the younger woman pleaded, voice cracking softly. "I swear, he's going to make it."

"This feels like something that shouldn't be messed with, Alice-"

"He'll be fine."

"Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you want to believe it?"

Alice hesitated. "Because I love him."

Agatha sighed, and paused. It felt wrong. Everything felt so wrong. Agatha knew, somewhere deep down, she needed to help the grieving woman. This... thing wasn't her husband. No, she was going to help her, no matter if it shattered her healing heart back In two. But right now... She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Alright... be careful, dear," was all she could mutter. She kissed her on the cheek and pulled her into a hug, not daring to let her go. "Eustace!" He clumsily raised his head. "You better damn well appreciate what Alice is doing for you!"

He nodded, but his pale face was still empty of any expression. He looked like an empty shell, someone that once held such life and humanity, but now something different masqueraded inside.

A few days had passed. The shepherd was buried and mourned for. But, one day soon after there was another crowd carrying something from the woods.

"What's going on?", Alice asked a little boy as the procession passed by. "What happened?"

"Oh, they found the milkman dead in the woods." He shrugged. "Intestines all over the place."

Agatha quickly appeared by Alice's side, fury in her face. "It happened again! Something is going on here and I'm sure your husband has something to do with it!"

"Agatha, please...!" Alice bit her lip, looking at her battered shoes. "He's not hurting anyone."

"Enough is enough!"

Suddenly a weak sound escaped Eustace's mouth. He bit his lip and tried again.

"Agatha.... please.... don't shout....at Alice."

Despite it all, Alice's face lit up and she threw her arms around him, trying anything to pull her mind away from the gathering crowd passing them. "You're speaking again!"

"Not...her fault....."

Agatha clenched he fist and took a firm step forward, glaring at the pair. "Eustace, you're hiding something."

"Agatha, please...", Alice pleaded, drawing her arms from around Eustace's thin waist.

But the older woman just turned and walked away.

On that evening while Alice was preparing dinner Eustace went out into the garden to catch some air. He returned when the sun had just sunk behind the net of emerald trees, the red sky reflecting on his white hair and giving him an ethereal appearance. He looked otherworldly.

Alice hugged him in the doorway and buried her face in his jacket. "I love you. My darling."

But suddenly she heard a woman screaming down the street.

"Something must have happened," Alice whispered, pulling him inside. "Let's close the door."

Darkness had quickly cast it's shadow over the village. But outside people gathered, with torches and pitchforks, a demonic mob, hoarsely screaming obscenities at the top of their lungs. Then someone knocked hard on the door.

"He killed my husband!", Agatha screamed from outside the house. "That evil creature killed my husband, let me in, Alice!"

"No!", Alice screamed. "It wasn't him...it can't have been him!"

"We'll break the damn door if we have to!"

"I won't let you hurt him!" Alice was sobbing. She ran back to the table and hugged Eustace, her long dark hair falling over his shoulder like a waterfall. She cradled him in her arms. "I won't let them hurt you, my darling. Just you wait. You'll be fine again. I promise."

Eustace raised his head a little and his ashen lips moved. She came closer and he whispered something, barely understandable and raspy.

"I love you...run..."

She hugged him and cried. "I love you... I won't run anywhere, I'll stay with you... I love you...!"

"Please...run..."

"I love you...!"

Suddenly he froze. Then his slender hand reached for his blindfold and pulled it away. And when he opened his eyes and glanced up, Alice was met with the full force of his golden gaze, like the sun on a summer evening in the forest.

The door broke down with a sickening crunch, and the mob flooded inside.

Eustace was sitting on the floor, Alice's head resting in his lap. Her beige dress was soaked in vermilion blood, and her beautiful dark hair surrounded her pale face like a halo of shadows. Her eyes were wide open in wonder and an expression of love was frozen on her face. She was dead.

Eustace was wearing his blindfold again. When he raised his head his lips moved. "Run... please..."

***

"And what then??"

The woman smiled. "They captured him. They decided to make sure he wouldn't ever return from the grave again, so they built him a coffin of iron, with locks and chains around it, and buried him deep in the woods, praying that no one would ever release him." She gently booped the child's nose. "Now good night, Miss Walther."

#rise of the forest god #the coffee story #reviews are welcome ;) #remember to listen to the song #written in collaboration with my friend abi

[hopecountyisforlovers]

breakfast;

rating: general. implied sexual content but nothing graphic. lets call it pg-13

pairing: summerseed ( john x tobias )

words: 1430

summary: happy pride month ! i actually started this last week but im just finishing and editing it now. tobias makes john breakfast in this one and theres lots of gay shit

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It's still early when the idea strikes Tobias- at least, early for him. It surprises him that he can still feel John in bed next to him, can still hear him mumbling in his sleep in the midst of a dream. Hadn't he mentioned taking a day off? That made his idea even more perfect, didn't it?

Fortunately ( or unfortunately, depending on how he thought about it ), John was currently sleeping with his back to him, which made it much easier to slip gently out of bed than if he had to pry himself out of his grip.

At a hint of motion, John turns over, still obviously asleep, grasping for where Tobias had just lain and seeming distressed when he finds nothing in the space. Thinking fast, the blonde slips his pillow from it's place at the head of the bed, pushing it gently towards his husbands reaching arms. It works like a charm- he wraps around it as easily as he would if it actually were him, sleep becoming peaceful once more.

Tobias could watch him sleep for hours, and on previous occasions he had, but this morning he's on a mission. He pads out of their shared bedroom lightly, closing the door behind him with a feather-light touch. John slept in so rarely- it simply wouldn't do for anything to wake him up. Especially when there was still so much work to be done.

Through the living room, into the kitchen- the hardwood floor is cool under his feet, except where late morning light pours in through the windows to warm it. Seed Ranch is serene at this time of day, something straight out of a cottagecore fantasy. If you could call their sprawling estate home a "cottage", that is. The thought makes him laugh.

This was second nature to him, a routine that even before this place he had done most every morning. It was more special, here- something he chose to do and not something he was forced to do. The fridge was usually well stocked, and today was no exception- it gives him a chill when he peeks into it. The blueberries he had picked fresh from their backyard garden sit, enticingly brightly colored, in a Tupperware on the second shelf.

Perfect.

It doesn't take him long- combining ingredients, frying bacon, slicing bread he had baked just the other night for thick, golden toast- or at least, it doesn't feel like it's taken him that long. Truthfully, Tobias finds it impossibly easy to lose himself in domestic activities. He's flipping a pancake dotted with plump blueberries when a set of arms wraps firm around his waist, the soft contrast of lips against his neck followed in a shiver-inducing way by the scratch of John's beard against sensitive skin.

"You didn't think that pillow would fool me forever, did you, my dear?" he still sounds half asleep- there's a husky tone to his usually smooth voice that summons butterflies to Tobias' stomach.

"I sure hoped it wouldn't. You'd miss breakfast."

"Breakfast?" he seems to notice what Tobias is doing for the first time- the smaller man can feel his lips curve up into a smile against the curve of his jawline. "Mmnn, you know your blueberry pancakes are my favorite. Whats the occasion?"

"The occasion?" Tobias giggles under his breath. "Well, I woke up in bed next to the most handsome man I'd ever seen. And then I saw the ring on his finger matched mine, so...."

This time John laughs, a sound like rich, dripping honey that he's sure must be the undiscovered secret cure for something. It makes what he is sure must be the dopiest grin alive stretch at the corners of his mouth. "You really are an angel, you know that?"

Tobias laughs with him in turn and he is finishing another pancake for the stack, starting a fresh ladle of thick batter against the gently popping oil despite being restrained by John's arms as he is. It was a necessity, really, developing that skill- John never let him go when he didn't have to, and that was how he preferred it. "Takes one to know one."

John's laughter brushes just lightly against the shell of his ear this time, and the flame of hot sensation it sends right down his spine to pool in his stomach is enough to almost make him drop the spatula he's holding. He can tell John saw it, too- he can practically hear the satisfaction in his voice when it comes to the power he holds over his little husband. "Careful, wildflower. Don't burn yourself."

He's already burning in a much different way. Tobias is sure he already knows. He flips the last finished pancake off into the pre-prepared plate, turning his head a bit to face him and leaning up to place a gentle kiss against his lips that sparks with sweet electricity. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me, Mr. Seed."

"Oh really? Did I wake up and make you a breakfast fit for a king?"

"Mmmn, you caught me. I almost decided to do it in nothing but my apron." It sounds awkward, coming from him, like he feels it always does when he attempts to be charming in the same effortless way John is, but the tightening of John's arms around his waist and the little shuddering breath he muffles against the skin of his throat are a fine indication that he thought otherwise. He would have to explore that idea more later- today, they have all the time in the world. "Why don't you go sit, get comfortable, and I'll make you a plate?"

"If you keep spoiling me like this, Joseph will make a law against it."

"God himself couldn't stop me from spoiling you, much less Joseph. Now go," Another kiss, this time in parting. It would only be for a few minutes, but it still feels necessary. "Sit."

"Sir yes sir." John's warmth pulls away from him, leaving him to his labor of love. He can hear the shift of chair legs against the hardwood floor, can hear him barely suppress a yawn and a soft moan as he stretches. He can picture it in his head clear as day, as he arranges food on of John's fancy plates- a little dab of butter here, some syrup there, bacon and toast arranged just so. It doesn't have to look perfect, but he takes it as a personal bit of pride that it does- or at least, as close to perfect as he can recreate.

Tobias slides it across the table towards him, finishing off the picture with a fork and a tall glass of fresh, cold milk from the fridge. The seat next to him is absent, of course, and he takes it, unwilling to be too far from him for too long. There- now it's perfect.

"Aren't you going to have some?"

"I...Uh.." Tobias just stares at him, suddenly flushed hot in embarrassment as he realizes his mistake, and the look that slides over John's face is endearingly exasperated.

"Did you only make enough for me again?"

"....Ahaha, old habits die hard, I guess." He had always been the one to make breakfast, but never for himself.

"That just means we get to share, doesn't it?"

"You don't have to d-" Tobias starts to protest, but is quickly silenced as John shoves a fork loaded with blueberry pancake into his open mouth. He has to admit, he's really outdone himself with this batch. He hums low in approval, eyes fluttering for a moment, and from this close John's answering laugh practically brushes against his skin.

"That's what I thought."

"Okay, okay..." He can't help but smile, watching his husband fork a bite for himself. His hair is messy and unkempt, the usual tension in his shoulders dissolved into a pleasant slope. It occurs to him, like it often does, how few people have gotten to see him this way- his heart swells in his chest, warm and saccharine. How could he possibly deny him the chance to share his breakfast, if that was what he wanted? How could he possibly deny him anything? "A few bites can't hurt. But I'm making you a snack later, okay?"

"Hmmmmm." He considers for a moment, twirling his fork in a circular motion, before a downright illegal sort of expression slides over his handsome features. "How about I have you for a snack later?"

Tobias' stomach fills with the beat of wings.

"Deal."

#my writing #f/o: john #i love this fic actually #i started working on it last week to destress on the way to the dmv #and then i came home and passed out and never finished it #anyway reblog this or youre a homophobe /j

[yeojaa]

( GHOST IN MY BED. )

Sometimes, hating someone is the only thing you can do.

pairing.  jjk x named f!reader.  jhs x named f!reader makes a lil (big) appearance. 

genre + rating.   rockstar!au.  e2l (exes n enemies!).  angst.  general.

tags / warnings.  this starts surprisingly soft!  and then it gets...  sad.  no real tags, though.  just...  mentions of butts?  also kicking butts?  jungkook is a bit of a manipulative dingus.  the usual.

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ and @periminkle​!  i would be nothing without them.  💛 

wc.  2.7k

chapter two.

“Are you okay?”  

It’s a question that doesn’t beg an answer.  He already knows you aren’t - that there’s no way you possibly could be - but he asks anyway.  He offers the words like a hand in the dark, a light on the horizon.  A reminder that you’re not alone and he’s here.  

He, with sunbeams in his smile and a dependable heartbeat.  He, who is melted and never frozen, a calm sea to your raging storm.  Jung Hoseok.

He holds you delicately, with utmost care, as if he’s worried you might shatter into the same pieces he’d found you in three years ago.  Or worse.  He cradles you to his chest, tracing stories into your skin;  his fingers press against the brassy ladders of your rib cage, fitting care between the spaces and double checking your heart still beats there.  Every beat reminds him that you’re stronger than he gives you credit for.  He offers his support anyway. 

“I’m…”  The words don’t come.  They’re barely realised, hardly tangible - sailors who’ve died with no names or wives.  

You falter, just a little, where gold thread fails.  There’s only so much someone can take.

It isn’t asked of him - it never is - but he does it anyway:  catching the splinters in his hands.  He pretends like they don’t hurt him just as much and the truth is, they don’t.  He’s faced enough hurt that yours is nothing - simply a stroll through a rose garden, barely a blip on his radar.  So he does this for you, because he can and he really doesn’t mind.

Where he’s able, he fills the cracks with the glory of his smile, with passes of his hands and lips and breath.  He does his best to keep you from catching your hands on those sharp edges - turning them round with a trail of tenderness against your temple.  Then another.  Then one more.  Touches passed in tandem with the tears that spill from your eyes, far too full to stop.  “It’s okay.  Take your time.”

He’s not going anywhere.

You apologise and hope the saltwater doesn’t rust your insides that he’s worked so carefully to scrub clean.  The downpour continues, relentless and miserable.  He waits and for that, you’re grateful.

“I didn’t think it would be that hard.”  Not quite true.  You’d expected it to be worse - an entire blackhole devouring your universe.  It still hurts more than it should.

Hoseok laughs.  It isn’t cruel.  It exists only in sound and even then, hardly at all.

“Did you think it would be easy?”  

“Not easy.”  Different, maybe.  A pain less sharp.  Pressure on a healing bruise rather than a festering wound that’s been poorly, wrongly stitched together.  You didn’t get it - you’d had time to heal.  Why was there still this cut-out in the centre of your heart, shaped exactly like Jungkook and torn around the edges?

“Did you think he’d changed?”

It feels silly to say yes.  It feels sillier to lie.  “Maybe.”

He tries again.  “Did you believe he would’ve changed?”

Had you hoped for it?  Wasted wishes on pennies and stars?  “Yes.”

“Vi.”  So soft you almost miss it, coloured in melancholy and sympathy.  You’ve heard it enough times to recognise what follows.  From Hoseok and your brother and your best friend.  “You need to let him go.”  You know he’s right.  More than that, you know he cares.  He doesn’t want to see the same shell of a girl from years ago - a house without any lights on inside.  

“I’m trying.”  You are, truly.  You’d left, hadn’t you?  Not once but twice!  Two whole times.  

You’d never thought you would.

“I know.”  Hoseok is kind - kinder than you could ever hope to be.  Stronger, too.  You feel it in the way he holds you, keeps you afloat when you’re so close to being pulled under.  “Just know I’m here.”

You can’t count how many times you’ve said it.  You repeat it again, earnest and heartfelt.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”  It means more than the words, more than it’s fine .  It’s everything in between, unspoken but understood.  It’s his way of reminding you that you - exactly as you are, a little broken and bruised - are everything you need.  That you are exactly as you should be, with the people that love you most.

“What would I do without you?”  You can’t quite picture it.  You don’t want to.

The arms holding you tighten, warm grip holding you tight against his chest.  His lips are dry upon your cheek, his breath ticklish over the shell of your ear.  “You’d be fine,”  he insists, so assured you can’t help but believe him.  “Colder, probably, but you’d be just fine.”

You laugh for the first time since you’ve been in his bed, the sound still a little wet but far better than it was.  More you, with sunshine peeking out from behind the rain clouds.  

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”  

You peer at him from your periphery, reminded once again of how lucky you are.  You might’ve had your heart broken but it was whole again, if not a little worse for wear.  

His was gone - buried six feet under. 

You can’t help yourself.  “Really, Hobi.  Thank you.”

“What’d I say?”  It’s a little huffy - all for dramatic effect, you know.  

“I know but—”

“No buts.”

“But—”

“No buts!”  You catch the look of mischief before you catch something else - a playful palm that lands with a quiet smack.  “Unless it’s yours.”

“You’re ridiculous.”  

“And you’re laughing, so who’s really the winner here?”  

He might think it’s him, but you know it’s you.  Because he’s everything you’ve ever imagined.  Calm, cool, collected.  Shoulders carved from boulders and a heart made of pure gold.  He’s the solid foundation you’d never thought you’d needed but that steadies you now - a reliable foundation for the home you’ve been rebuilding.  A friend who gives everything and asks for nothing.

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to repay him. 

Don’t bother, you know he’d say.  It’s nothing, he’d insist.  You’ll still try.

“Let’s eat.”  You beat him to it, tossing whatever words he’d levied out the window as you extract yourself from the tangle of his limbs and linen sheets.  His expression shifts - swings from pouting at the loss of your body to delighted at the prospect of food in the span of three seconds - and he’s kicking his way to freedom alongside you. 

“Should I make pancakes?  Or are you in a waffle mood?”  

Truthfully, you’re in a drown-your-sorrows-in-wine mood but you figure at ten in the morning, carbs might be the better option.  Especially if they come in the form of his chocolate banana pancakes, third on your list of favourite comfort foods.  “Pancakes.”

“Pancakes it is, then.”  

The shirt he pulls on falls mostly into place before he offers a hand to you, one of his various hoodies - baby blue with Supreme emblazoned across the front - held in the other.  “Put this on and let’s get cookin’, good lookin’.”

Your brother joins the two of you for breakfast, the temptation of free food too strong - even for him.  He shuffles out of his bedroom, a sleepwalking zombie that only perks up at the smell of coffee and sizzling bacon.  He steals a piece before it’s even fully done, jumping out of the way of your wayward chopsticks when he nearly leaves a trail of pork fat over the counter. 

Knives and forks clatter across kitchenware and steam curls out of ceramic.  Caught in this little piece of Sunday morning paradise, it’s easy to imagine this is just another day.

“How’re you doing?”  It comes around a careful mouthful of batter and chocolate chips, Yoongi’s expression soft and expectant across the table.  There’s no hesitation in his question, even as Hoseok shifts in his seat beside you, free hand dropping to rest - inconspicuously - over your knee. 

Yoongi notes the motion with an imperceptible tick of his stare but says nothing.  It’s an unspoken agreement between the three of you. 

If you don’t acknowledge it, it doesn’t exist. 

“I’m…”  The words fall short, yet again, but none of you are in a rush.  The quiet sound of chewing fills the void until you’re able to, in your soft and measured way.  “I’m okay.  I’ll be okay.”  That’s what matters. 

He hums an acknowledgement before digging further into his plate, slicing through a perfectly cooked yolk with the edge of his knife.  “You’re not going to see him again, right?”  You can tell he’s trying to be conversational - ask without demanding, understand without judging.  You know it’s hard for him.  It’d be hard for you too, if the roles were reversed. 

“No.”  

It’s punctuated by a squeeze of your thigh and the tiniest nod from the corner of your eye.  Hoseok knows it isn’t his place to butt in but he offers his support where he can, in the little ways you can’t miss.  Like the sun in the sky, you can’t always see him, but you know he’s there. 

“Good.”  The relief is palpable, fully formed and bright as it pops off Yoongi’s tongue in a pronounced exhale. 

You can’t help but smile, though you’re not entirely sure it meets your eyes.  It’s hard to remain chipper when faced with your nightmares.  If only you could leave them in bed, far away.  “Don’t worry.” 

“You’re my little sister - I have to.”

You catch the grin that forms across Hoseok’s mouth, heart-shaped and hidden behind the rim of his coffee cup.  “She’ll be fine, hyung.”  It takes a lot for him to say it but you appreciate that he does.  Sometimes, it feels like you and Yoongi are fighting over the wrong things;  he recentres you both when that happens.

Feline eyes train on you, indecipherable in their depth.  The bond you share with your brother is unparalleled, despite the oft forgotten fact that you aren’t actual siblings but a chosen family.  You sometimes wonder if you’d be able to read him better if you shared the same coding - if his thoughts might slip into yours one day.  Not that it’s necessary.  He’s always been honest with you.  “I know she will.  She’s strong.”

“Thanks, Yoongs.”

He nods - a short, curt thing that’s diffused by the way his mouth moves, lips curling into the peculiar gummy smile he’s had since he was a kid.  “Just know if he comes within ten feet of you again, I’ll kick his ass.”  With the laughter that sprouts around his words, it could easily be mistaken for a joke.  A bit of nonsense between friends.

You know better, though.  Yoongi would throttle Jungkook with his bare hands if he ever hurt you again.  He’d told you enough times, drilled it into your mind that first year when he’d had to pick up all the pieces.  You can’t blame him;  they’d hurt him, too, just in different ways.

You’d lost the love of your life.  He’d almost lost his little sister.  It was hard to come back from that.

“I know you will.”  Because while decidedly slimmer - a good, maybe, thirty pounds less than your former love - Yoongi would, with no doubt in your mind, obliterate the boy who’d done the same to your heart.  It was a family thing.

“Does he know that, too?”

You’re sure Jungkook does.  He’d be stupid not to, right?  “Yeah.”

“Good.”

It’s a whole three days later when you realise how wrong you are and how stupid Jeon Jungkook is.

The familiar number flashes a total of four times, glaring up at you like a neon sign that demands your attention.  Even when you blink, they’re seared against the back of your eyelids - a highlight reel of your worst moments encapsulated in a simple ten digits.  

Letting the calls ring through, untouched, is almost impossible.  You can do it, though.  You know you can.

You repeat that over and over again until the vibrating stops and the screen is black.  

That wasn’t so hard, you think.

Then the missed call reminders are replaced by a voicemail notification and all of your pride sinks like a weight to the bottom of your stomach.  Unease bubbles up in its place, fizzles and snaps - a movie theatre fountain pop.  You hate pop.  

Deleting the message without listening to it is what you should do.  Pretending like it never happened is what Yoongi would want you to do.  Neither of those things happen.

You know you’re going to regret it the moment you press play and his voice fills your ears, reaching all the way into your chest as if that’s where it belongs.  You only repeat it for a second time because you’re not sure you’ve heard right.  You can’t believe the words he’s left.

But Jungkook is Jungkook and you really shouldn’t be surprised. 

After all, he certainly isn’t when you swing open the front door.  In fact, he’s almost smug, cheeks pressed into that heartbreaking smile of his.  Even the cuts on his nose and his bruised eye do little to detract from the charm of it.  He could wear a brown paper bag and he’d still, somehow, have your heart racing a mile a minute.

“Hi, Pumpkin.”  

You barely react when he closes the distance and pops a sweet, chaste peck to your forehead.  You don’t know how to react.

It’s like having a bomb dropped on you - a cataclysmic shift that tips your entire world on its side and leaves you scrambling for purchase on a tilted axis.  All at once, everything returns to revolving directly around the boy standing in front of you.  

Just as he had three years ago - how he almost had, only three days ago - Jungkook becomes the centre.

The realisation is sobering, startling you into action. 

“What are you doing here?”  

He blinks once, twice, doe-eyed and adorable.  It’s impossible not to see what he’s doing - see right through the facade he crafts so well, with such practiced hands.  It’s even harder not to fall for it.  

You’d thought you wanted nothing to do with him - not since he’d bumbled his way through his last lie, too guilty to even properly correct the mistake he’d made.  You’d been certain that would be the final straw.  Hoped it would be, with every last tired breath.

“I wanted to see you.”  

He looks so pretty on the outside.  A picture perfect dream come true, plucked straight from your afternoon fantasies.  The boy you’ve wished for forever, wrapped up in hyperactive laughter and black silk.  

But you know he’ll break you from the inside out, turn your heart to ash.  He’ll articulate his love in the form of unnecessary bouquets and drunken voicemails that come too late.  He’ll disappear for weeks at a time then come crawling back, begging for your help as if he hasn’t tripped over his own two feet.  You’ll be too weak to say no, wrapping him in the bandages you should be keeping for yourself. 

You know all of this - and yet you wait, hope, pray , that this time might be different.  

You wonder if he can tell.  If he can still read you in the ways he used to, between the lines and in the dark.  You think he must by how he stares at you, relentless and restless, searching your expression for any sign of forgiveness.

“Pumpkin?”  If words held weight, you’d be crushed beneath it.

“You can’t just… come here.”  Where I have nowhere to run.   

Jungkook shifts his weight, dances from foot to foot.  He’s peering down at his shoes - Italian leather, polished within an inch of their life - mouth rounding in that pout you recognise so well.  “You want me to leave?”  

Don’t answer that.

“I’ll leave.  Just tell me to go.” 

Tell him.  It’s one word.  Hardly a feat.

“Vira, tell me to leave and I’ll go.”

You can’t.  You can’t.  There’s no anger now - nothing to spring you to your feet in a fit of rage.  It’s only sadness, all-encompassing and blue, enough to swallow you whole and spit you out.  It’s so heavy it aches in your bones and all the way through to your toes.  

“Tell me to leave — or let me in.  One or the other.”

author note.  another short chapter but one that lays some important groundwork.  further pain will be forthcoming!  xoxo

tag list.  @jalexa83​ @aa-ronpa​ @kookiesbreaky​ @celestialflamefairy​ @xjoonchildx​ 

#thebtswritersclub #ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #heartsforbts #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #cypherwritersnet #bts #bts au #bts imagine #bts fic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jhope #jung hoseok #jhope au #jhope imagine #jhope fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #work.zip #ghost.doc #jungkook.doc

[aimeelouart]

The Calamity’s Cursed Child, Part 2 - 1672 words, ASGZC, Cursed to Strife continuity

[Part 1] [Read it on Ao3]

--

It turned out that Cloud had showed up in the middle of nowhere, because Zack’s house just so happened to be in the middle of nowhere. Cloud wasn’t too surprised⁠—whatever the details of his curse, it tended to spit him out in the unluckiest possible position. Such as right on top of Strife’s empty grave.

It really was uncanny.

Zack explained, in their brief hike back to the house, that they all preferred the privacy and security of living in the middle of nowhere. They made trips back to civilization occasionally, to see their AVALANCHE friends or get supplies, but for the most part they were self-sufficient. It sounded...nice. Idyllic, almost. Cloud tried not to dwell on that for too long.

They paused at the front door and Zack looked at him nervously. He raised an eyebrow in response. They’re your boyfriends to wrangle, he conveyed with that eyebrow. Zack deflated a little. “Okay,” he said. “Uh. Just...be ready to dodge if you have to.”

Sephiroth moved from standing at his side to standing in front of him protectively, which was...a little trippy, but he rolled with it.

Zack took a deep breath and promptly slammed the door open, hollering “DON’T FREAK OUT!”

Cloud wasn’t entirely sure how that was supposed to help, but it was such a Zack move that he couldn’t help but grin and stifle a snort. Sephiroth was also suppressing a smile.

“What?” came a call from further in the house, laced with alarm.

“Zack what did you do!” someone else called, footsteps pounding down the stairs from the second floor.

“Nothing, just don’t freak out!” Zack said, stopping a few feet in the entryway. Cloud peered curiously out from behind Sephiroth’s towering frame. That was a mistake, maybe. Two sets of eyes from two alarmed former commanders locked on him as they came rushing into the front room.

“You!” they said, nearly as one.

“Seph, look out!” Angeal cried, pulling a broadsword from a nearby rack and blurring forward as Genesis cast a reflexive spell. 

Cloud sighed. Sephiroth raised a Barrier. Zack quickly got between Angeal and the door, parrying with his own broadsword. “What did I literally just say about freaking out!” he scolded.

“Strife is⁠—!”

“He is not Strife,” Sephiroth said firmly, projecting his voice. He held one arm up in a very clearly protective gesture. “Calm down. I know how this looks, but he is not Strife.”

Cloud stepped out from behind Sephiroth so that the other two could see him, keeping his hands loose at his side. If they got a good look at him, they might calm down quicker. Assuming Strife was anything like Sephiroth, his battered clothing and timeworn face would be a very stark difference. He glanced between them and waited patiently.

Angeal’s hostility eased almost immediately, confusion furrowing between his brows. He lowered his broadsword. Genesis took a few seconds longer, eyes sweeping up and down Cloud several times before they settled on his face. Slowly, he frowned.

“I’m not your Strife,” Cloud said simply.

“Yeah!” Zack agreed, bounding over to sling an arm around his shoulders. “Can’t you tell by the cute face? And, you know, the lack of raging insanity and murderous intent?”

“Zack,” Cloud said reprovingly, elbowing his side. “That’s not helpful.”

Angeal huffed a laugh, then looked startled with himself for it. Zack pumped a fist victoriously. “Yes!” He cheered. “Okay, now that no one is trying to kill anyone else, this is Cloud but he’s from a different dimension and he’s going to sleep on the couch until he leaves.”

Cloud sighed and put his face in his hands. Even four hours of sleep was not enough to deal with Zack when he was like this. “Zack, please stop tormenting your boyfriends.”

“Aww, don’t worry Cloudy. They’re used to it!” He leaned in and added, sotto voce, “they’d be way more alarmed if I wasn’t acting like this.”

“Alright, Zack, you’ve made your point,” Genesis said, eyeing Cloud. “Enough with the theatrics. If he is not Strife, he deserves better hospitality than being left to linger on our doorstep.”

Both Commanders looked cautious but not hostile as Cloud was herded inside and Sephiroth shut the door behind them. Angeal was the first to step forward, after laying his broadsword on the coffee table. “Cloud?” he asked hesitantly, reaching a hand out toward his face but pausing half way.

“It’s fine,” Cloud told him. It was hardly the first time the grieving and the lonely had seen echoes of their lost lover, parent, or child in him. It seemed a theme, to be given what belonged to others⁠—both gentle touches and hateful wounds. “But you should know I never had a romantic relationship with any of your counterparts in my home world.”

“No?” Angeal asked, daring to close the distance and lay his palm along Cloud’s jaw. Like Zack, his thumb swept across the delicate, bruise-dark skin beneath his eye. “Why not?”

“Never met you. Never knew any of you, really, though Zack got the closest.”

The corner of Angeal’s lip twitched upward, just a little. “All things considered, I don’t know if I should be sad or happy for you.”

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Angeal stepped back, drawing his hand away. Everyone looked to Genesis, but the redhead just stood and watched with an unreadable expression. “You’re not our Cloud.”

Cloud couldn’t help but grin tiredly at that. “No, I’m not. I have to admit, it’s very refreshing to hear someone else say that for once”

Genesis looked away, closing his eyes, then huffed. A weary smirk crossed his face. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. You could have fooled me. You talk like he used to. Act like it too.” Only then did he step forward, putting his hands on Cloud’s shoulders. “It’s the eyes that give you away. He never looked quite so…”

“Tired?” Cloud suggested archly.

“Worn. Zack mentioned you borrowing the couch?”

“That was part of the deal, yeah. I’ll be gone in about three and a half hours and I intend to sleep while I can.”

Genesis’s expression softened fully at that. “Of course.” He used the hands on Cloud’s shoulders to steer him over to a chair. Cloud sat willingly enough, after taking Tsurugi off and leaning it against the chair’s arm. “Just wait a moment and you can sleep.”

Like a well-oiled machine, the four men broke off to gather pillows and blankets, dim the lights, and generally make their living room habitable for sleeping. They worked fast. Before Cloud quite knew what was happening, he was laying down⁠—Tsurugi pressed against his side and boots on, as he insisted⁠—swathed in warm blankets and resting on a veritable mountain of pillows. He threw an arm over his eyes, mumbling something that might have been thanks, and dropped right off.

Of course, Cloud had long since developed the habit of sleeping without truly losing touch with his surroundings. How it worked, he didn’t know, but if he hadn’t he would have died quite a bit more often than he already did. So he heard, and retained the gist of, the conversation that the four men had around him.

“He looks half dead.”

“I know. Why do you think I insisted he come back here to sleep? He never said anything outright but I swear he was going to bunk down in a tree as soon as we left.”

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. He only said that he’d come from another dimension and that he was going to vanish.”

“He also said that he was not the one who Zack “usually” greeted with hostility. I believe he has been traversing dimensions involuntarily for some time.”

“He certainly looks it, poor boy.”

A hand brushed tentatively through his hair. He murmured nonsensically, shifting for a moment before settling back down. The hand resumed its motions as soon as he’d stilled.

“Is this what he could have been, do you think? Strong and selfless? Patient with us?”

A different hand traced the edge of his jaw. His mind whispered not a threat, and so he stayed asleep.

“He would have been a good man. The best, really. If only we could have…”

“Hush. We made mistakes, but our Cloud made his own decisions. And at the end...he was already dead and gone. We put a shell to rest, nothing more.”

“I know. I know that. But it still⁠—”

“—hurts?”

“Yeah.”

“I know, love.”

“...I wonder if he would have been better off like this. If he’d never met us.”

The conversation died after that. Cloud drifted along in silence until the burning sensation that warned of an impending jump became too intense to ignore. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, then stood and slung Tsurugi across his back.

“What is it?” Zack asked from where he was sitting in an armchair. All four of them were in the living room, pretending they hadn’t just been watching him while he slept. Watching over him, if he was feeling generous, though he understood the impulse either way.

“Two minutes,” he murmured, rubbing at the old scar on his hip. It always burned a little more intensely than the surrounding unscarred flesh. “This is goodbye.”

Zack, of course, got up and hugged him so tight his ribs creaked. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” he joked, but there were tears in his eyes. Angeal’s parting embrace was wordless, as was Genesis’s, though the latter also pressed a chaste kiss against his temple. Sephiroth was the last, as the burning licked up into Cloud’s neck.

“Be safe,” the silver-haired man whispered, releasing him.

Cloud huffed a laugh, though it lacked all but the faintest trace of humor. “Yessir, General,” he drawled, snapping off a perfect salute.

The very last thing he saw was Sephiroth’s small, amused smile, eyes glistening wetly, before the world turned to white static and he vanished.

#ff7 #ASGZC #cloud strife #zack fair #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #Sephiroth #my fics #Cursed to Strife #aimeelouwrites

[peaxhcringe]

Katsukoia Headcanons

This is for my lovely mutual @vhskenma for Christmas. I absolutely love you so much and I’m so happy we became friends. I love our simping nights and talking about anything and everything. You are so sweet and I love you so much! 

Genre: Fluff and smut (the last scenario) 😈

Paining: Bakugou and Sequoia ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Songs and Lyrics:

I see us dancing by ourselves

We do it better with

No one around, yeah

Just you in my imagination, yeah

In my imagination, oh, oh

'Cause I loved you dangerously

More than the air that I breathe

Knew we would crash at the speed that we were going

Didn't care if the explosion ruined me

Baby, I loved you dangerously

Cooking w/ Katsukoia

Will always end with one of you covered in flour

No matter what you’re trying to make flour will be EVERYWHERE

There will be a few stolen kisses here and there

The first thing you guys try to make will be a cake as in Bakugou’s words

“It’s simple enough for a dumbass like you to make”

Well...it wasn’t

A few dropped eggs, spilt sugar, and some stray bowls later you had a pretty good cake

He wouldn’t let you eat the cake batter though 😔

Every time you tried he’d knock the spoon out of your hand and call you a dumbass

Now there was a time where you guys ended up burning cupcakes

It totally wasn’t because you guys ended up making out on the counter top and forgetting about the cake....yeah totally not that

Just...don’t remind him about it unless you want to tease him of course 👀

Study Sessions

Study sessions could go 1 of 2 ways 

A typical study night that ends in cuddles 

or 

With you underneath him covered in marks littering form you neck down to your thighs 

It all really depends on how you do during your studying

Remember that scene with him teaching Kiri? 

Yeah, he’s like that

It doesn’t matter that you two are together 

He is here to help you learn 

Typically study sessions consist of him drilling the questions and answers into your brain until you could say it in your sleep 

He can be a bit harsh at times, but he never means it truly

On the nights where he’s a bit horny though? 

He’s completely different 

He makes rules for you to follow 

For every question you get right is one orgasm

but

For each wrong one is one taken away 

Best expect him to pick a hard subject some days, but then a very easy one that WILL leave you overstimulated by the end of the night 

And on those nights...

You will not be able to walk for the next day 

Clumsy

When you told him that you were clumsy he didn’t think it was that bad 

It was that bad 

You’d trip over air or bang your fingers in the cabinets as you grab a bowl 

Mans really thinks of you as a child sometimes 

He’s always bandaging you up

He’s also very rarely seen you without a band-aid on your face or ever around your fingers 

He’s very carefully around you sometimes, because you seem to always have a new bruise on your body 

You really hit the limit though when you showed up in his room with a cast on your arm 

He just looked up from his phone and rolling his eyes at you, before opening his arms

He didn’t bother to ask what happened, knowing it most likely something stupid 

Which is was 

He was very correct 

You had actually broken your arm from falling down the stairs at UA 

How did it happen?

You blame it all on Denki and Kirishima 

You all were running through the halls (much to Iida’s dismay) and you didn’t watch where you were going and fell down the steps

Of course you all laughed after you got up

that was until the pain set in 

Recovery girl was not pleased so she only healed you halfway 

Bakugou might act like you get on his nerves, but he does love taking care of you 

He does like cuddling with you for hours when you get hurt 

Mans is just touched starved

Spanish Bakugou Smut 

When Bakugou began learning Spanish you though it would be great idea, him focusing more time on that than training almost all hour of the day. Well that was until he began using the Spanish in more way than just typical conversation. You blame all of them on Sero, that man knew exactly what he was doing when he agreed to help Bakugou.

It was about a month after he began learning the language when he started using it in the bedroom. Although you didn’t understand what he was saying much, the tone and his voice said it all. His deep voice speaking in such a fluent and smooth way made your stomach flutter every time his whispered or growled words into your ear.

You still remember very vividly when he first used it in bed. Your head was pressed into the mattress, your hands trying to grasp onto anything to ground yourself. One of Bakugou’s hands was placed on your lower back while the other was holding down your head, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair as his cock was burrowed deep inside you.

You could barely speak, your brain turning into mush as his cock hit your g-spot at every movement he made. Your legs trembled as you held your ass high up into the air for him, your toes curling at the pleasure.

“Katsuki~” You moaned, his name being the only thing your brain could comprehend

In a swift motion the hand that was deep into your hair, pull your body up towards his your back now pressed against his sweaty stomach as his other hand came and wrapped around your stomach, his fingers tilted downward towards your clit.

“Te sientes tan bien princesa (You feel so good princess) “ He mumbled into your ear, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear 

Your pussy clenched against him when he spoke, the deepness of his voice and the words making your body feel 10x hotter. You felt him smirk against your, before his lips kissed along the shell of your ear down to you neck.

“Oh? A mi princesa le gusta mi español? (Oh? Does my princess like my spanish?)” 

Although you had absolutely no idea what he was saying, the words lit a spark inside of you. You body keened forwards as you felt his fingers brushes against your clit, one of your arms raising up and wrapping behind his neck in order to keep your body up, your fingers tangling into his unruly hair. 

“Answer my question princess” He spoke, his fingers pressing softly against your clit, careful to not add enough pressure to send you over the edge 

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond as you couldn’t understand. You eyes fluttered closed as his began to place careful circles around your clit, your climax so utterly close. 

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you asked yes~” You moaned, your hands tightening in his hair causing a deep groan to leave his throat 

“Buena niña (good girl)” He said, his hand removing from your hair to travel down to your breast, his fingers finding your nipple and twirling it 

Your eyes closed at the pleasure, your heat beating heavy against your chest. 

“I-I”m gonna cum” You moaned, your head leaning back against his shoulder, your legs trembling as your feel your high on the tip of your tongue 

“Cum para mi princesa (Cum for me princess)” 

At his words you felt your body keen forward, this being the hardest you’ve ever cum. Bakugou groans behind you,as he cums, his hand move from your breast to your face moving your head towards his. His lips press against yours into a  loving kiss, the room falling silent, only the sounds of your breathing filling up the space.  

Ever since then Bakugou has always made sure to tease you, whispering random phrases into your ears while your doing homework or just randomly in class, which of course always ends up with your bent over something and his cock shoved deep inside of you. 

#sequoia 🧡 #beth's moots 🥰 #mha #bnha #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bakugou #bakugou headcanons #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut