#okay he is but it's not as bad as it sounds - the townspeople left out some important information
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ZoLaw AUs Nobody Asked For Presents....
Fairy Tale Twist
Part One: Abduction!
[This was inspired by watching the first episode of the anime Heaven Official Blessing with @jhaernyl. However, for the purpose of this ficlette all you need to know is the whole thing is your typical fanfic set up: a bunch of young women are disappearing, so in order to solve the mystery our main male character is forced to go undercover as a shy, virginal bride-to-be in hopes that the sexy bad boy will notice him and carry him off to his liar.]
[You know. The only sensible solution to a rash of kidnappings.]
"Please," the old lady begs, tears running down her face as she falls to her knees in front of the trio. "Even if there is no hope for my Liula, this village can't bear to lose another one of our daughters!"
Zoro scratches behind his ear, apparently unmoved by the old ladies tears, as well as the wet faces of the town folks who have gathered all around. It isn't that he doesn't care - he's sure it's hard to misplace a daughter or whatever, though it does seem to him as if it's at least a little the villager's own fault. Why do they keep sending the girls through the forest is they keep disappearing?
"So they're always taken in the forest?" Saga - Zoro's second best friend and training partner - always knows exactly the right questions to ask. He's just good at that kind of detective thing, the way Marines pretend to be. As a crew of bounty hunters, they may not be the most well known or most feared (they certainly aren't their richest) but between him, Kuina, and Saga, Zoro figures they have all the right talents to work their way up to the top, wherever that might be.
For Saga, Zoro is sure that eventually means becoming a marine or, as his overly dramatic friend would put it, "becoming a sword for justice!" Or that's what he says it if you get enough sake in him, though honestly it doesn't even take one drink to notice the look he gets in his eyes whenever a bunch of men in their clean white uniforms go marching pass. Not even Kuina's mocking their stupid insignia ("why do you want a shirt with a pair of boobs drawn on. I've got the real thing and they're nothing but annoying!" / "For the last time, the insignia is the mighy gull! Not a pair of blue boobies!" / "As someone who has seen plenty of both, trust me, no seagull looks like that..not unless it's had some major work done.") or Zoro pointing out he's never seen a single marine carrying a shuangshou jian, which he thinks is the far better argument. After all, Saga wouldn't want to have to get rid of his beloved sword, would be? It's the one thing he has from his parents....
If there is one person who would understand how important a sword can be, it would be Kuina, but he thought Saga would be next.
"Sounds like instead of worrying about your bridal traditions, you should have worked to make sure these girls could protect themselves," Kuina says, her voice low and steady, but there is an undercurrent of anger there. One Zoro finds adults often miss, due to Kuina's former, almost old fashioned, language and proper samurai etiquette.
Her father always said there was more to being a Kenshi than just holding a sword. Unfortunately, one of the things he believes makes for a Kenshi is....
Kuina stands up, bowing politely to the very same adults she'd just been so angry at. "We will find this pirate who is taking your lost daughters and ensure this does not happen again," she promises, and Kuina promises something it's like you can see the threads binding her, holding her to her word. It makes Zoro sit up straighter, happy to be her rival. "If what these girls want is to be married, they deserve to make that choice without some creep ruining it for them."
Kuina's small, and because of that, most everyone underestimates her. Only to be surprised when the girl they had just been laughing at is suddenly behind them, the sharp white blade of Wado Ichimonji pressed against their kidney, with Tenno Megumi clashing against their own steel, stopping them from being able to make a move. She's a fast, technical fighter and a slow, methodical thinker. She probably knows more about Zoro and Saga then the two boys know about themselves and, honestly, Zoro is alright with that. He doesn't even know where he'd keep all that knowledge, but Kuina seems to do a good
They had only come to this island to pick up some Nobody, Kuro of 1000 Cats or something stupid like that, but they had barely dragged him and his crew of losers to the local Marine base when an older woman, face wrinkled and worn from sadness, had grabbed a hold of Zoro's arm.
These people were desperate, and the small four man marine outpost they have seemed unable ("or unwilling," Kuina had muttered only once Saga was distracted - they didn't need to have that fight again) to help against what seemed to be some knd of curse.
"Qell it's not a curse," Saga decided immediately, the three of them gathering just outside of the town hall were the citizen had plead their case. And as much as Zoro hates being distracted from his goal, his one true dream, he has to admit their pleas were.... heartfelt.
"Hmm," Kuina puts her hand to her chin, her foot digging into her dirt as she stares down, her brain trying to ferment a plan of some kind. At the very least a place to begin. "It seems he only comes out when there is a bridal procession. What should we do?"
There is silence as they all contemplate this impossible task.
"I know!" It's Saga who gets a these first, slapping his fist in his hand, and with his eyes burning so bright, Kuina and Zoro are immediately doubtful. This is going to be one of those ridiculous plans like in all his marine centered manga. As far as Zoro has seen, Marines never actually do any sort of undercover work or whatever. They just stupidly fire bullets at things and hope one hits. But that's not how Saga sees them, not at all.
Saga gives a sharp, proud smile, his support of his own plan entirely unwavering. Zoro assumed they would just stare at him until sanity sunk back in but suddenly, he notices Kuina going all stiff, as if a realization had just hit.
"Not it!"
Zoro stumbles some, not used to the usually calm depth that is his number one rival and best friend moving with such a reckless, her arm flying up as of theyre back at the dojo answering questions. "Hey!" He pushes his shoulder back against her. "What are you-"
"Good point!" Saga says, his intensity still bur ing as usual. "I am also not it."
Zoro looks between his two friends. His two companions. His twisted sworn brother and sister. And the evil grins that were creeping up along their faces.
"I am NOT-"
Kuina leans in so hard, Zoro ends up squashed up against Saga. "Your mouth says no," the older girl teases, sluttering her eyelashes in a way that Zoro didn't understan. Was that supposed to make him do something? "But your eyes - and my blades," she adds that bit with a pat at the swords at her side. "Say yes."
At his other side, Saga gives him an unnaturally bright smile despite the narrowed eyes glare Zoro is giving both kenshi. "You really should try and look happier. It's your wedding day after all!" He teased, nd Zoro can only grumble.
He did call not it last, damnit.
"We will just have to set up a convincing bridal procession then!" Saga pulls back, striking what Zoro feels is an all too excited pose considering the fate they've just sealed for him. "Kuina and I will act as guards, while Zoro gakes place of the bride to be. We'll put the whole thing together and make it look just like a real bridal procession! That's how we will draw this scoundrel out!"
The two npeople only seem mildly confused by the bounty hunter's plan. Zoro isn't sure what the confusion is aboit. He's hardly looking forward to this mess, but he does think Saga and Kuina did an excellent job at setting the trap and as for his part, well, he can only hide one of his three swords under the bridal gown, but with the other two concealed in the carriage in easy reach, he doesn't imagine he'll habe any difficulty grabbing for them in time. The whole plan is actually one of their better thought out schemes, so he isn't sure why the villagers take moment to get on board, but eventually they do. They even lend them materials to help make the ruse undetectable.
"I've got this!" Kuina declares in reference to the dress. She isn't much for fu-fu clothes herself - it's all so much fabric for so little practical coverage, and it always has at least one part that hangs in the weirdest way. However, she's had years of practice learning to make men's clothes for her properly so they aren't baggy and in her way and also wouldn't.... disrespect her father (Zoro knows she would never wish to voice this, but he has also seen her on holy days with his image. Holding it as tight as if he were a long honored ancestor. Looking to the stars as if they would grant her his approval.) Plus, she definitely knew what looked good on girls. Just because she doesn't wear fancy kimono and jewelry and other useless pretty things doesn't mean Kuina can't APPRECIATE what other women look like in such elaborate get ups.
It's the make up where they run into something of an issue.
"Katatsumuri," Saga asks, holding out their den den mushi. Him and the snail wince together as Kuina gets angry enough to break the brush shed be using to try and apply Zoro's lipstick, yelling that it was a subpar tool unworthy of its title and a shame to whoever forged its.... it's.... it's stupid hairs or whatever! Grr!
"Can you play a make up tutorial," Saga requests, sitting cross legged in front of Zoro. Luckily, he is very good at copying moves even from videos. Maybe this is why he appreciates marine uniforms so much, Zor thinks, cause they're all neat and orderly and it feels like you have to keep your make up neat and orderly as well.
So with Zoro looking appropriately alluring ("You're a vision," Saga promises, his breathing just a little too rushed considering they haven't even started on the hard part of the quest just yet. "You almost look decent," Kuina laughs, making sure Katatsumuri takes a picture for future reference) they gather everything else they will need for their little nightie deceit. The procession, the carriage, the spooky nighttime forest that the temple lies in the middle of for some reason no one could adequately explained.
"just sit tight," Kuina whispers from the side of her mouth as they walk deeper and deeper into the darkness. "I'm sure this willl-"
"Kuina!?" Zoro knows he is supposed to be sitting there straight and well behaved, just the way he's practiced with that overly nice girl - the one who kept getting a little bit touchy, like Zoro couldn't figure out how to hold his hands just by LOOKING at her; there is no reason to touch - but at his friend's sudden silence he couldn't help but peak out of the carriage window.
Nothing but wind and leaves and darkness.
"Zoro," Saga growls from the other wise..Zoro turns to try and ask him to go check on Kuina. That's what he should do, rather than break character. Good call. "Keep on guar-"
Silence.
Suddenly there is nothing.. No horses. No Marines pretending to be maid in waiting. No guards. No friends. Just darkness, and a low, soft whisper of the wind. Something dark, something.... stirring.
Zoro licks his lips, that awful taste of the lipstick coming off with it. He reaches for the trap door where his two other swords are stored when -
Click.
The door opens a light storm: the fall of rain, wind sweeping through the trees, dark hair, striking eyes, and such long and slender fingers reaching out for him, not grabbing, but making an offering. Holding his hand out for the supposedly young and virginal bride.
And suddenly Zoro can feel it in his chest. This lightness. This heat.
He fumbles, trying to find the damn torch. Where were his matches? Why is he going for the stupid candle and not his swords? What is wrong with him?
"I can't help but notice," the strange is silhouettes in the darkness, out the moonlight behind him offering any glimpse. But that voice. So dark, like a shadow. Like the way a smooth sake feels sliding down your throat. "You seemed to be in trouble, my little lamb. I hope those ruffians didn't cause you any harm."
As if you didn't send those ruffians, only Zoro's voice is entirely gone. The boy's golden eyes pierce through him like an arrow. Where is his voice? It seems the only part of him that can speak is his heart, and that is beating so loud it filled the entirety of the carriage
It only gets louder when the stranger's lips quirk upward, the water running down his hair, his pale skin, sliding around his lips. Making them shimmer and shine in the low candle light. "What a remarkable beauty. How could anyone wish to hurt such an angel?" His hand is still hanging there, half way between them. Zoro licks his lip subconsciously, the water clinging to the stranger's lower lip making him want....
No! He's meant to focus! He is here on a mission, not some silly game.
Yet the way the stranger smiles does leave his stomach feeling all sorts of silly. Are those his finger tips shaking as he reaches out, gently entrusting his hand to the stranger.
Immediately he is being pulled forward, so close it Zoro can't keep the gasp escaping his lips. He's not used to these shoes, there's far too much of them for starters, and the heels catches on the fabric of his dress and-
As he falls foward, the stranger moves in close and through the low light of the moon and a single candle, those gorgeous golden eyes stare right into Zoro's soul, soft and yet certain as he reaches out, easily pulling Zoro into his arms.
Pressed against the man's chest, Zoro understands why so many of those manga he finds Saga hiding away have girls pressed up to marines just like this. The way his heart beats in Zoro's ear, the protective warmth of his arms....
"Where did-"
"You men seem to have run off," The stranger says, holding him close. The hold is gentle and yet formal, as of purposefully being polite and careful with him. "I believe they were trying to lure the attackers away."
He knows that hadn't been the plan, but he can only stare up at the stranger, his cheeks so warm he thinks of lifting the veil, just to get some fresh air. But surely if he saw him that would give them game away.
"Your physical beauty must only be surpassed by that of your heart, to have such a loyal and fearless guard. I would hate to see their bravery go to waste. I don't have much, certainly not lodging worthy of such a precious gem, but there is a small temple nearby that will offer us shealter. I can keep you safe until your entourage regroups. That is, if you will allow it."
His golden eyes are staring down at our hero, soft and intense all at once, and they leave his tongue feeling equally confused: heavy and light at the same time.
"You have my permission to do with me as you please." Zoro hadn't practiced any sort of script, the plan had been to attack and words had seemed unnecessary. He still isn't sure where such a sentiment even came from! What a silly thing to say! He must look like a gu-
Wait, that isn't the what Zoro is supposed to be concerned about. Why does he even care if he looks like a fool!?
Even as he tries to hide himself against the stranger's chest, he catches a glimpse of that smirk. That horribly cocky, confident turn of his lips that leaves the poor kenshi melting, all the heat not coloring in his face pooling much, much lower.
"I shall take you with me then, beauty-ya, and act as your guide until we can reunite you with your proper assembly."
"Mmm," Zoro mutters, voice high and breathless. Perhaps to ensure the act is believable? "Take me with you, unite with me, yes..."
Just an act, that's all. Right, that's why he's doing this. To go along with the plan.
That's why he puts up no struggle as he suddenly finds himself lifted up into the strangers arms. The man's hat keeps his face mostly hidden, but Zoro is sure to memorize the edges of his cheeks, his lips and chin where rivlets of water drip from his dark skin. The beautiful dark ink that covers the strong arms that have Zoro safely held against his chest.
All for the sake of the mission, Zoro reminds himself, leaning his cheek against the stranger's wet shirt, tucking in closer to his warmth as a blue light suddenly involves the both of them.
"Shambles."
And then the forest is quiet, nothing but an abandoned carriage left behind.
#the bounty hunting trio we deserve#shimotsuki kuina#wants to be the world's greeatest swordsman and also a great ppirate of the seas because screw samurai#if women can't be samurai then she will leave the dojo and become something better#Saga One Piece#he has a bit of a marine kink#IT'S NOT A KINK TO CELEBRATE THE BRAVERY OF THE MARINES#no but it is when you want your girlfriend to dress up like one#roronoa zoro#who only knows he wants to be the world's greatest swordsmen#one piece#trafalgar d. water law#trafalgar law#zolaw#I promise Law isn't just out here kidnapping helpless girls#okay he is but it's not as bad as it sounds - the townspeople left out some important information#not that hes helping - he's a pirate; pirates don't help people#however spoiler alert his little sister isn't a piarte and Lami has a lot of pull over her brother's heartstrings#though she's about to have some major competition#Corazon also lives#one piece au#one piece fanfic#I know no one asked for this but its the first real fic I've really written in a long time so it's what you get#the zolaw au nobody asked for#fairy tale twist#part one#law x zoro#later kuina x lami BECAUSE I CAN#all the girls live#my writings
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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson
Series Masterlist
The Grimoire
The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: Homeward bound. 2738 words.
1986
Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Eddie swooping by, keeping pace with your car. It was mid-afternoon by the time he grew tired, burrowing into his front seat nest and sleeping until twilight. As soon as the sun was safely locked away on the other side of the world, Eddie chittered and you responded by turning him back into himself.
He stretched out, making dramatic noises and pulling faces.
“You okay there?” you asked him, laughing at the show of it all.
“Only trying to make you smile, my little witch.”
Damn.
“So, you were right,” you changed the subject. “About not being the only non-witch,”
“Wolf, right? I could smell him.” Eddie’s face screwed up in disgust.
“What happened to the support group for monster lovers?”
“I draw the line at lycans.”
The seriousness of his expression made you laugh. “Well, you’ll have to redraw it, because Ev has it bad for him. The others already knew all about it too,”
“And we believed we were special,”
“I mean… We still are… Witches and werewolves aren’t mortal enemies…”
“Of course. Wolves’ mortal enemy being their own tail and all,”
“Eddie! Stop,” you laughed, hitting him with the back of your hand.
He grinned at you, then looked out at the road. “And the other?”
“That one is a bit more of a secret. Ash is seeing one of the fae folk. It’s still very new. Taking it slow… Making sure they’re not actually trying to lure her into some centuries old curse. You know how they are,”
“Trickster sprites,”
“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then there’s Steve fucking Harrington… who has elected to inexplicably haunt Mel,”
“Why? I assume he never met her,”
“Yep, but she came and asked me if the ghost in her house was him. It was. He says he’ll leave her alone but had this stupid puppy dog look on his face… So… Maybe there is a whole new world of witch romances to come.”
Eddie grinned, he liked the sound of it. Though, he really didn’t want a werewolf as a brother-in-law. “Do you want me to take over?” he asked then, pointing to the steering wheel. “I’ve been practicing,”
“And here I was thinking you disappeared in the middle of the night to eat,”
“Oh, I do. I find the worst person I can. I eat them. Then, I take their car for a lesson,”
“A two birds, one stone, kind of thing, huh?”
Eddie nodded with a disconcertingly innocent smile on his face.
“I was thinking about that actually. I think I can help,”
“With which part?” he asked. “The eating or the thieving,”
“Neither. The choosing.”
The joy left Eddie’s expression. He looked away from you, suddenly studying the hardly visible horizon out his window. “You don’t need to be a part of it. You don’t have to have it on your conscience,”
“Neither do you. Not in the same way, at least. What if I can take some of the guesswork out of picking who is, you know, bad,”
“It’s not guesswork. I watch them. I find them while they’re-”
“I know. But what if you didn’t have to wait for them to do something bad? What if you could tell what they had already done?”
Eddie stayed quiet. There was a gas station up ahead, the lights shining brightly. You pulled in and cut the engine.
“I know it’s always going to be on you. You’re always going to have to make that call, about if they have sinned and if the sins are…”
“If they justify death,” Eddie finished for you solemnly and still not looking at you.
“Yes. But what if you could see them? The sins. If you could, I don’t know, just touch someone and see the worst of them. And only when you wanted to. Would that help?”
He was clicking two fingernails together, pensive or maybe anxious. Eddie got out of the car and looked around. There was a family inside the gas station. The kids were screaming about peanut butter cups and soda.
“Would it help you?” he asked after you’d got out and walked around to him. His hands were shoved into the pockets of the sweatpants he’d been getting in and out of, vampire then bat then vampire then bat. “It might make it more precise. But it’s still conjecture. Still a judgment. Still a human death.”
You tried to read him, but he’d locked you out for the moment.
He continued, “Sometimes it hurts. Or, sometimes I think it hurts. Or, I think it should hurt. I don’t know if I can tell the difference. I don’t want to hurt anybody. I can stop myself from hurting them. But I don’t know, really know, if it weighs on my conscious. I don’t even know if I have one.”
It had been easy to get lost in Eddie’s goodness. It had been the important thing to show your coven. But it was never going away, the darkness. He might have been a good vampire, not a properly made monster, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still a vampire.
“If I say it would help me-”
“Then, I am sure, it would help me. What is good for you is good for me,” Eddie told you. “But I can tell which of them are more like me than you. I can see it in their faces. But if this makes you feel more in control of it, then I’ll do anything you ask of me.”
The neon sign of the station buzzed and crackled, the cicadas trilling back at it. The family got in their car and hit the road again, the radio turned right up to drown out the noise of bickering children.
You could see the station’s clerk watching you and Eddie from behind his counter.
“Loving you doesn’t make me feel guilty. I’m not ashamed of what you are,” you told Eddie then, looking back at him. “I’m not trying to make you into something you’re not.”
He nodded. “I know.” He saw it on your face, a flash of exasperation. “What are you trying to do?” he asked. “Because I’m not ashamed of what you are either… You don’t have to be a lawful, virtuous witch.”
There was a small smile playing on Eddie’s lips and you knew it meant he’d cottoned on to the fact that the seed of darkness that lived inside you was working its magic.
“It’s not just about making things easier for you or for me. It could be… A kind of justice…”
“Ohhh,” Eddie almost laughed. “I am your weapon, and if you can point this blade in the right direction, then well fuck, it might work faster than the humans’ courts and witches’ spells?”
Eddie had only recently started to swear, a habit he was picking up from you most likely. Fuck, in particular, sounded terribly good coming from his mouth.
You looked at him and slowly nodded. He threw his head back and laughed into the night. The gas station clerk sighed in relief at the sudden change of atmosphere around you both.
“Oh, my little witch. You do continue to delight me.”
Eddie pulled you into a rough kiss, letting the tips of his sharpest teeth run along your bottom lip. You were warm and tasted so sugary. He had been itching to eat you up since leaving the Catskills.
“I love you,” you said breathlessly when he let you come up for air.
“I love you too. Entirely.”
…
Waking up alone was bittersweet. Although you missed the weight of Eddie next to you, the immediate crawl of his body to yours, it did mean he was likely up to something. Mostly, it was innocent domestic work.
Pre-turning, Eddie never really had a place to call his own. As a vampire, the idea of home meant something different too. But now, the boy could nest. He cleaned and picked flowers to put in vases and glasses all across the trailer. He was also dabbling in cooking, though he could not eat the fruits of his labor.
So, mostly, it was domestic work, but now and then, you would wake up to him doing something different. A week after returning from the Catskills, you and Eddie had fallen back into routine, but this morning was out of the ordinary.
Eddie had stacks of books crowded around him. Pages of handwritten notes were spilled across the coffee table, your altar supplies stacked neatly below it.
“Looking very witchy there,” you greeted, voice gravelly with sleep.
“Hi, my love,” he replied without looking up. “I’m almost finished.”
Looking around, you realised it wasn’t just the books Eddie had been combing through. Herbs and other potion-brewing bits and pieces were lined up along the kitchen bench.
“Almost finished what?” you asked.
“The spell.”
Nodding slowly at him, you waited for the explanation. It never came. Instead, you let him work on his craft and went about your day.
By mid-morning, he was ready.
“Little witch!” Eddie yelled loudly. You were outside, watering your potted plants and herbs. “Little witch! Come!” There was childlike enthusiasm in his voice and it made you smile.
“Where do you need me?” you asked him, but he was already ushering you to the couch.
“I have written you a grounding spell,” he announced.
“A grounding spell?”
“Yes. Something to reconnect you to the natural world. To promote health and healing.”
Eddie was wide-eyed and on the verge of mania. He had a little dirt smeared across his cheek, and it was caked under his nails. Although his hair was pulled back in a bun, single coils of curls had fallen out throughout the night. He was beautiful.
“Go on,” you urged.
“It starts with malus domestica,” he began.
“It always does,” you noted, already holding back a giggle. He could have just said apple. Still so very dramatic.
“They connect you to the earth. Sacred. Biblical.” He really had been doing his homework. “Then, black hellebore root.” Eddie was at the kitchen bench, holding up a jar that he’d already dug through. That explained the dirt.
“I hope you’ve been careful with that,” you warned.
“I know. Extremely toxic. Even witches sometimes wear gloves to handle it,” Eddie said, reciting one of the books he’d read. “But it is also symbolic of rising from the past. And has a long history of use in witchcraft.”
Eddie had read about hellebore poisoning, how it brought on hallucinations but could also cure mental affliction. He read about how it could be harnessed and used in banishing spells and for purification. About white versus black hellebore and all the folklore surrounding them.
“Okay. What do we do with this apple and root?” you asked, playing the part of a captive audience.
“Core the apple and thread the root through it. Let it air overnight, by moonlight. Come morning, it gets wrapped in willow then cooked,”
“Willow?” you tested.
“Willow that is strong and true. Willow that takes pain and fever and grief and releases you from it.”
You nodded and smiled.
“When the apple is cooked through, falling apart, you take the hellebore root and powder it,”
“Then what?”
Eddie hesitated. “Alas, I do not know…” he admitted. “I can’t find a way to close the spell,”
“Do you have any ideas?” you asked, standing up and coming to the kitchen counter. You looked at everything he had pulled out of the apothecary.
“Moreso, bad ideas. What not to do. Consume it, for example,”
“Yeah. That could kill me. Maybe even turn me into a werewolf,” you joked. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless. “Kidding. Hellebore is an active ingredient in lycanthropic ointment though… Mostly it’s used in what we used to call flying ointment, or magic salve. So no, I cannot consume it,”
“Yes… Well… I thought then, returning it to the earth. Burying it. That didn’t feel right,”
“Mmmhmm… I think you have a clue here,” you told him, pulling a bowl of eucalyptus seed pods forward. “Did you read about these?”
Eddie shook his head.
“They’re kind of amazing. Eucalyptus trees are native to Australia, but are planted ornamentally around the U.S. They produce a highly combustible oil through their leaves. Little fire bombs, basically. They catch ablaze easily. But, these little seedpods are fireproof, and when threatened with fire, they drop lots of seeds and fertilise the scorched ground. Within a couple of years, the burnt earth is already returning to its gloriously green form,”
“Very smart of them,”
“Very smart,” you agreed. “Maybe we can learn from them. We can not just withstand the blaze, but add fuel, let it all burn, and start again,”
“The powder… we let it go free…” Eddie said slowly, catching on to what you’re saying.
“Ah-huh. We give it to the wind.”
Working side by side, you and Eddie cored apples and filled the void with black hellebore root. You set them on the kitchen windowsill ready for the moonlight. (You’d have to take down all the window’s covers though, sunproof house and all.)
Eddie was proud. It was written all over his face.
“Now who’s the little witch?” you whispered to him, stepping up to his body, pressing yours to his.
In reply, Eddie pulled you close, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame. He kissed the top of your head then pressed his cheek to it, resting on you.
“Thank you. Nobody has ever written a spell for me before… Well… Not a good one…” You looked up at him. “You are good, Eddie. And you’re allowed to be. You can be… both. Everything,”
“Everything,” he repeated quietly.
“Yeah… So… What now? We can’t work on them until tomorrow.”
Eddie swept you off to the bedroom by the time you opened your eyes after your next blink.
“But it’s not bedtime,” you said voice saccharine and purposefully dumb.
Eddie grinned. “It’s not. I don’t want you to go to sleep now anyway,”
“No?” You sat on the edge of the unmade bed, looking up at Eddie.
He stood between your legs, reaching out to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs running softly across your skin. He smiled wide, teeth sharp. “I’m very, very hungry.”
Eddie rarely let himself taste your blood, though the occurrences were becoming more regular. He was scared of a multitude of things. Not being able to stop. Seeing something in your magic blood he couldn’t unsee. Pissing off some ancient and unknown creature that would resurrect if ever a vampire munched on a witch.
Sometimes, if you begged pretty enough, you’d get a small bite out of him. But it was better when he came asking for it. The soft inner thigh was his greatest weakness.
Lifting your arms up, Eddie followed the instruction and took your shirt off. You fell back against the bed and let him push your skirt up. He dropped to his knees and kissed the tops of your thighs. Up, up, up, until his mouth was bruising the skin above where the femoral artery was pumping blood.
You still didn’t know how he did it, how he could make it feel so good. You didn’t want to know. It was his own secret vampire magic and it was one mystery that would never appear on your murder board.
Eddie’s teeth sank in and your hot, red blood began to flow. He pushed you further back on the bed, then held your leg up, so the blood would pour down towards where you were already wet. His tongue lapped at blood and arousal fast. He didn’t waste a single drop.
You writhed under him, eyes screwed shut, and body on fire. The vibration of his tongue was pulling you ever closer to climax, but he wouldn’t stay in one spot long enough to let you get there.
Eddie grabbed your hand and smashed it to where he’d bitten you. “Heal it,” he growled, barely able to form words. You did what he said and he licked your palm clean of blood as a thank you. He hooked his arms under your legs and ripped you back to the edge of the bed. Then, he was positioned exactly where he needed to be to let you get there.
End Note: We're back in Hawkins... Now what? Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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I've been thinking about this angsty AU for a while know...
But...what if each of the gifted Madrigals snapped before Antonio's ceremony?
Bruno was the first; He cracked under the pressure before Mirabel's ceremony. Honestly, being seen as a bad omen/curse, constantly giving out "bad" or unreadable visions that he knows will be seen as bad, practically being forced to give visions knowing they'll get a bad reaction, and constant migraines/headaches can't be good for someone's mental health.
The order of the other's snapping (I'm going in the order of age)
Pepa (after Antonio's birth) - So stressed out and emotionally unstable that she snapped and caused a rainstorm for a whole week until her body gave out.
Julieta (A year or two after Pepa)- Not sure what to do for her.
Isabela (When Antonio was two/three)- How would being the golden child and put under the perfection pedestal not take a toll on you mentally?
Dolores (a six months after Isa) - It could surround something about hearing way too many sounds/voices at once.
Luisa (four months after Lolo) - Surface pressure got too much to handle.
Camilo (two months after Lu) - Identity crisis, constantly told that YOU aren't needed but the other person is. In other words, feeling like you yourself aren't special at all. Need I say more?
By the time Antonio was four the only Madrigals what were left were Alma, Felix, Agustin, and Mirabel. How do you think you would interpret this au?
Do you think there are any mental hospitals in Encanto? I mean, there is always going to be people with mental issues so there has to be one. But I don't think a normal mental hospital could house such gifted people that could possibly turn into a threat at any given moment.
Idk, this is just an idea and maybe you could be a little more elaborate with it. But honestly, how do you think the gift less Madrigals would react to this happening? (and maybe the villagers?)
(Also, I don't think Antonio would be getting a gift in this au. The candle/Casita is way too scared of the pressure he may be put under and what it might cause. But it's up to you though)
Okay, I have ideas for this!
I’ll call it Separated.
My only note is why would the family separate and just abandon each other? Specifically, the wives leaving their spouses and the literal five-year-old. It makes more sense that they stay together.
Order and why the family finally snapped:
Bruno (1938) - basically the same as said here, but no relation to Mirabel. His reputation started falling after Pepa’s wedding, but by this point, there was nothing to be saved and he had no will to try save it. (The headaches thing isn’t necessary; Julieta can heal him).
Isabela (1944) - in response to being told she was going to start courting and ultimately marry Mariano, but the whole ‘perfect, golden child’ definitely added to the emotions. She didn’t leave the family straightaway, due to her age, but stopped following Abuela’s orders. She also began asking her parents if they could leave.
Pepa (1945) - following Antonio’s birth and her mother’s concerns over whether or not he would be gifted. Alongside her own suppressing of emotions and the equally poor treatment of Dolores. She finally had enough. Félix never officially snapped, just agreed with his wife without hesitation.
Dolores (1945, a few weeks after Pepa) - inspired by her mother, Dolores had also reached her boiling point shortly after and felt confident to express it. Not that it was necessary for her to do as she was obviously going to be leaving with her parents and brothers. But she felt that she should get the chance to for her voice to be heard.
Agustín (1946) - he had recently become aware of the townspeople’s treatment of Luisa and refused to stay a moment longer. If the warm family got out, so can they. To the point he threatened divorce against Julieta, was just going to take Luisa and leave. Julieta never officially snapped, just agreed with her husband; though it was after a few discussions.
Luisa (1949) - though her father’s snap happened earlier and in relation to her, she didn’t feel quite the same; that might be age and insecurity talking. Her treatment did briefly get better because of her father but settled back to old way soon enough and then got even worse. She was done being a mule for the townspeople, for some of the stupidest reasons.
Camilo (1950) - being a teenager is hard enough, a time for finding yourself and your identity. Chucking shapeshifting and those implications on top isn’t easy. He is the most recent member of the Madrigals to snap, though is the only one to suggest a desire to be a normal family. He is still a child - he just wants to play and hang out with the other kids.
Is there a mental health hospital in Encanto? No. It’s a rural town in the middle of nowhere. And it’s 1950. (Not that it matters because Encanto is frozen in the late 1800s). If they were to have anything, it would be a small asylum - which nobody would want anything to do with for very understandable reasons.
Alma, still very warped in her grief, probably doesn’t take this very well at all. With every separation, she just gets worse. The family is breaking all over again - she is losing them, not so different from how she lost Pedro. Maybe even worse because they are still alive, they just want nothing to do with her.
The husbands are in obvious support/defence of their wives and children. They are outsiders to this family, they are a little bit better at picking up on the pressure they are being put under and how it’s not normal. They only want the best for their families and won’t just accept being put through such extremes.
Mirabel is a little ignorant to this all. Being the actual giftless one, she was never hugely included in any of the discussions or such. She doesn’t question too much, she wouldn’t want to overstep. She had accepted her place on the sidelines a little more - even if her family is no longer front and centre (in the way they were before), she just sticks to the background and tends not to get involved with any family drama.
Antonio, who isn’t getting a gift - he doesn’t even live in Casita, so he wouldn’t even know about his door - doesn’t have much thoughts about this. His family’s separation happened so early in his life that he doesn’t known anything beyond this. This is just normal. He’s too young to understand or really be too curious either.
#encanto#ask me anything#encanto separated au#isabela madrigal#mirabel madrigal#luisa madrigal#dolores madrigal#camilo madrigal#antonio madrigal#julieta madrigal#agustín madrigal#pepa madrigal#félix madrigal#alma madrigal#bruno madrigal
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Hazbin Hotel: The Contract of Blood Ep. 15
*Hey guys! We're back with another episode/chapter. This is published on April 15, 2024. If you like this episode, don't be afraid to reblog, heart it, and comment! That would be wonderful. Warning: Vulgar language, mentions of abuse, and making out. Enjoy.*
Episode Fifteen: Time to Rise
Rosie leads Husk, Alastor, Nifty, Angel, Emily, Sir Pentious, and Cherri to the direction of Cannibal Town.
Up ahead, Alastor notices an invisible shield around the town.
“My, my, how did you know that this chaos will enfold sooner than later?” Alastor asks Rosie.
“I just knew. Heh, if I have the full power, I would’ve shield all of Hell from this chaos,” Rosie responds.
Husk listens to the answer, blinking in shock at the answer. Before he can make a comment, a sudden vision of two Liliths fighting each other, gold licorice blood everywhere invades his mind. He stumbles a bit and grabs his head.
Angel notices this and arches a brow. “What did you see, Husky?”
Husk looks up at his boyfriend and holds his hand. “I’ll tell you later, babe.”
Once they enter Cannibal Town, Emily sticks closer to Sir Pentious and Cherri.
The short cyclop notices this.
“Hey, they ain’t gonna eat you alive, girlie,” Cherri reassures Emily.
“Really?” Emily questions.
Sir Pentious nods his head in reassurance. “Yesss. Just don’t get on their bad ssside and you’ll be just fine.”
Emily shivers at the answer. “How would I get on their bad side?”
Alastor enters the conversation. “If you try to eat their limbs, they’ll eat you back. They’re better in numbers than individually.”
The cannibals notice Rosie’s return.
Rosie looks at the group. “We need to try rallying them up to battle.”
“That actually sounds easy,” Angel responds.
“Oh, I wouldn’t underestimate them. In order to convince the cannibals to fight with you, you have convince them all,” Rosie replies.
“That’s including Susan,” Alastor adds with the distaste of the name.
“Susan?” Husk questions Alastor.
“Can I stab her, sir?” Nifty asks while raising a knife.
“As much as I would love the idea of that, I wouldn’t do it for Rosie’s sake,” Alastor responds.
Rosie raises her staff, summoning the cannibals with her to the gazebo in the middle of the town square. As the group stands in the gazebo, Rosie turns to her friends.
“So, who wants to convince an entire group of cannibals?” Rosie asks the group.
Alastor shifts his gaze at Husk. “Oh, Husker.”
“What?” Husk utters.
“Maybe you can convince the townspeople with your buttery voice,” Alastor teases Husk.
Husk shifts uncomfortably in his stance. “Uh, I'm not sure if that's a good idea.”
Sir Pentious notices Husk's movements and slithers beside him. “I can do it.”
“I can do it too,” Emily chirps. “I have a class based on diplomacy.”
Cherri arches her left side of her only brow. “Are you sure you're up for this, kid?”
“I'm not a kid,” Emily says with confidence.
Emily stands in front of the group of cannibals. Alastor hands her his staff that has the microphone attached to it.
Emily takes the staff awkwardly and sighs. “Okay--oh, that’s a little loud. Um, hello, my name is Emily. Former angel, uh, hi! Um, I kind of new here, so I--”
“BOOO!” A random voice shouts.
The crowd disperses, revealing an old lady cannibal in her dead fox scarf and blue dress.
Emily arches a brow and looks at Rosie and Alastor. “Susan?”
“Susan,” both Alastor and Rosie responds simultaneously in deadpan tones.
“Okay,” Emily says and clears her throat. “Anyway, as I was saying--”
“BOO! Get off the stage, bootleg version of Charlie!” Susan curses at Emily.
Emily clears her throat. “Anyway, I’m here to talk to you all about--”
“BOO!!! Get an adult to make a speech!”
“I’m a fucking adult, you bitch!” Emily shouts in irritation.
Emily’s eyes turn red while her wingspan grows larger. Before she goes in for the attack, Rosie grabs her shoulders.
“Okay, okay, let's take a moment to breathe,” Rosie says calmly and pulls Emily aside.
“That fucking bitch,” Emily grumbles.
Sir Pentious raises his hand. “I can go next.”
“Good luck,” Cherri whispers to her snake boyfriend.
Sir Pentious slithers up in front of the audience. “Well, hello, fellow cannibalssss!”
“BOOO!!!” Susan shouts.
“Uh, okay, I’m here to addresssss the elephant in the room,” Sir Pentious continues. “Susssan, what’sss your problem here?”
“Why do you talk like a retard?” Susan questions.
“I’m a ssssnake!” Sir Pentious barks.
“RETARD!”
“BITCH!!!”
Rosie hurries besides Sir Pentious. “Okay, okay, let’s not fight each other. Take a seat, Sir Pentious.”
Pentious huffs and slithers back to sit next to his girlfriend.
Alastor looks at Husk with a smug grin. “You’re up, Husker.”
Husk groans. “Great, now I got to deal with the bitch.”
He shuffles his feet up in front of the audience and sighs deeply. “Okay--”
“BOOO!!! Get the cat off the stage!!!” Susan shouts.
Husk takes a deep breath, his patience wearing thin. “So, look, we need your help to stop Morrigan and Orais--”
“BOO!!! Charlie is better than all of you!!!” Susan barks.
Husk’s eye twitches and he changes the script. “You know what I see?! A bunch of pussies!”
The cannibals gasp in shock while Rosie slaps her forehead in discouragement.
“Yeah, you heard me! A bunch of pussies!” Husk adds with a firm tone. “You fucks are willing to let an old bitch-ass woman decide whether you should go into battle or not!”
Alastor smirks wider while Angel clenches his teeth in fear for his boyfriend.
“You don’t even have brains of your own!” Husk shouts at them.
“BOO!!! Get the cat off of the stage--”
“And you!” Husk growls, his eyes turning green. He flaps his wings over to Susan and stands close in front of her. “You’re just a bitter old woman who has nothing better to do than to criticize everyone else around her. I bet something happened in your years of living that makes you this bitchy. I bet you are a bitch-ass motherfucker who decides to abandon her kids to your abuser husband instead of saving their damn lives! If it weren’t for the fact that your kids actually crawl of that abuse alive, they would’ve been dead and their blood is on your hands forever! I bet you killed yourself knowing that you’re a fucked-up whiny bitch that no one in the world wants to be around!”
Everyone has their jaws dropped except for Alastor.
Susan seems dumbfounded by Husk’s accusation, tears edging out of her eyes. “I love my kids.”
Husk widens his eyes, the green fading. “W-What?”
“I love my kids. I would never abandon them. Certainly not with an abuser of a husband. I would kill him and eat him alive,” Susan responds, now with sass in her tone.
Husk relaxes his shoulders until he hears a loud gasp from Emily behind him.
He looks behind him to find an familiar blonde woman. She has looks like Charlie except her blue eyes stare into his yellow ones. Her cannibal mask has fallen off of her face, the black eyeballs rolling on the floor. She appears to be crying, not realizing her disguise is taken off.
Emily covers her mouth in shock while Pentious, Angel, and Cherri stares at her in confusion.
Nifty giggles a little in excitement at the sight.
Alastor sips his teeth and leans to the side. “Your disguise fell off, Rosie.”
Husk lets a gasp escape from his lips. His vision is bombarded by the sight of two Lilith’s fighting each other while Charlie watches in horror. Charlie is held back by the green chain connected to the ground while Vaggie is trying to break up the fight.
Husk screams and falls onto the ground, holding his head.
“HUSK!” He hears his friends and his boyfriend call.
Angel slides by his boyfriend’s side. “Baby--Baby, can you hear me? BABY?!”
Everything fades to black for Husk.
~.~
Husk wakes back up at the old house in his human form again, seeing his mother sitting across the table and putting together more pieces.
“What the fuck is going on?!” Husk screams.
“Pieces. Finding more and more pieces,” his mother mutters.
“What the fuck are you doing in my head?! You should’ve been dead! Why the fuck are you in my head?!” Husk shouts at his mother while grabbing his head.
“You know, it’s disrespectful to talk to your mother like that--”
“You fucking abandoned me, bitch!” he yells, glaring at her. “You don’t deserve any respect! You don’t deserve any respect after what you did! Do you even have regret it when you left me?! You know what Pops did after you left?! He takes it out on me! He fucking beat the shit out of me! I wouldn’t have been alive longer if I stayed with him!”
“Why didn’t you try to find me--?”
“I DID!!!” Husk cries, tears streaming down on his cheeks. He can feel his black fur growing back on his body, but it seems natural now. “I’ve looked for you everywhere! I don’t know where the fuck you were at. And when I did find you, all I got was the cold shoulder.”
His mother softens her gaze at him.
“You said you don’t love me,” Husk croaks, his hands turning into claws. “You’ve kicked me out. You’ve disowned me. You want nothin’ to do with me. So, I just...gambled. And gamble and gamble and gamble until I can have all the wealth in the world. I want you to see that I was well. But you were dead by the time I had all that money to show you how fucking wrong you were to disown me.”
Husk starts to sob, teardrops falling on the wooden table. His cat ears grow from the sides of his head and his face contorts into a face of a cat.
“I just want you to love me again. I--I’ve blamed myself for you disowning me for years. Was it how I look? Was I a bad kid?”
His mother stops trying to put pieces together.
“Maybe that’s why you’re in my head,” Husk says, looking down to find the green chain around his neck. “Maybe that’s why I’m down here.”
His mother frowns at the sight of Husk. “You’ve always wanted a cat. But you couldn’t take it home in fear that your father will kill it.”
Husk glances up at her. “And how would you know that if you abandoned me?”
“I know everything about you. I am what you wanted, son. I can be your mother--” his mother transforms into the form of Angel Dust, fully clothed. “Or I can be him if you want me to be. Whatever brings you comfort.”
Husk widens his eyes. “I said I want the real Angel.”
“Yes, you did. The real Angel is outside of yourself now, pleading for you to wake up,” Angel says until he transforms back to Husk’s mother. “But I see that these two forms are the only people you have ever loved. One that triggers you and one that comforts you. Which one do you want me to be?”
Husk blinks and tilts his head. “Who are you really?”
“I Am. I Am the one who helps the angels create the Light that creates the Earth. I Am the one who breathes life into mortals like you. Sadly, most fall away and go into the dark.”
Husk blinks his eyes in shock. “W-Wait. You--You are--”
“I Am. That’s my name.”
Husk tilts his head. “You tricked me.”
“I Am what you see me as, Henry. How could I trick you if that’s all you see of me?”
Husk sighs shakily. “I want to see the real you.”
“As you wish.” The creature, I Am, transforms into what appears like an angel, except bigger than the angels Husk has seen. I Am’s figure shapes of a suit-up man without a head or face. Holes through his skinless palms and eyeballs forming around his missing head that is a bright glow.
“What do you think?” I Am asks. “Too freaky?”
Husk shakes his head. “You look...normal?”
“Oh, this is my normal look,” I Am responds while waving his hand. “Anyways, do you want to know how to stop Morrigan and Orais?”
Husk nods.
“The light is getting dimmer. It’s weakened from the corruption of Heaven as you know. It has caught my attention after the years of planning Earth’s end and a new Heaven. The End Times are to come soon, but not this soon. These visions of what will happen to each of your friends and those demons you called ‘friends’ will be due to their choices. Their choices will determine whether or not you all will save your homes from the couple.”
“You keep mentioning choices and puzzle pieces.”
“Yes, I always love those. It’s what keeps life interesting. Pay attention to the pieces and maybe you’ll find the answers you’re looking for.”
“Are you fucking kidding me--?”
“Language.”
Husk gruffs in annoyance.
“Gabriel gave you these powers to see into the future for a reason."
Husk huffs and looks at the pieces. Then he leans closer and finds a vortex sucking everything in one of the puzzle pieces.
~.~
“Husk...Husk!”
Husk wakes up from his dream to find that the group is in what is supposed to be Rosie’s shop. He looks up to find Angel cradling him his four arms.
“Hey, baby,” Husk says with a small smile.
“You alright, mate?” Cherri questions. “You just fainted, cried, and screamed.”
“You’ve nearly deafened half of the population,” Alastor replies with a deadpan tone.
“Lilith, what are you doing?” Emily asks in concern.
Everyone glances up to find Lilith tries to put on her face mask back on.
“Damn it,” Lilith curses.
“Everybody can see through you, Lilith,” Alastor adds with a groan. Then he smirks cheekily at Husk. “Thanks to Husker.”
“What the fuck? What did I do?” Husk questions, sitting up.
“When you used your ‘seeing through people’ powers on Susan, our dear Lilith’s disguise falls,” Alastor replies with a little giggle. “You must have shocked her so much that her disguise falls right off.”
“Fuck!” Lilith curses, struggling to put the mask back on.
“And now it won’t come on again,” Alastor adds with a smug grin at Lilith’s dispense.
Husk blinks and tilts his head. “Wait a second, you’ve abandoned Charlie?”
“W-Well--”
“Wait, if you’re the real Lilith, then who’s that up in Heaven?” Emily asks Lilith.
“The slut’s name is Roo,” Lilith responds with a deadpan stare ahead.
“Roo?” Angel probes.
“Look, we need to keep this a secret--”
“No!” Husk determines before sitting up.
“Husker--” Alastor starts to glare at Husk, but Husk pays him no mind.
“You’ve abandoned Charlie. Why?” Husk growls.
Lilith softens her gaze and looks away. “I--I can’t say.”
“Don’t you love her?” Husk probes almost angrily.
“Of course I do. More than anything!” Lilith says out loud. “Why do you think I disguise myself as a cannibal near the hotel I left her at? Or send Alastor to look after her while she’s building a hotel?”
Husk softens his gaze at her. “Were you trying to protect her?”
Lilith sighs. “I haven’t told her this when she’s a child. Luci and I...we weren’t getting along at the time. He’s so dark and broken. She’s so innocent. But the one thing we both did agree on was we are willing to protect Charlie from anything that can kill her. Even from people like Roo, Morrigan, Orais, and Adam. How can you tell a young teenager that she’s at risk because she’s our daughter? Even after we are casted down into Hell, there are still people that want to destroy us. Charlie deserves a better life.”
Lilith stares at the skinned mask with a crooked smile on the face. She caresses her soft hand over the cheek and continues, “I’ve left her at the hotel in the hopes that she can hide with unlimited access to the rooms and foods stored there.”
The group softens their gazes at Lilith, except for Alastor.
“You’re right,” Lilith replies to Husk. “I wasn’t the best mother. But I thought the best for her at the time. It’s my fault for not seeing it.”
“Then why do you want to keep your disguise up still?” Husk asks.
Lilith sighs. “Now that there’s danger out here, I don’t want them to know that I’m here. They’ll go after me--”
“Then you’re a fucking coward,” Husk responds.
“Husker--” Alastor growls, ready to yank Husk by the green chains.
Lilith signals Alastor to not be harsh on him.
“You have abandoned Charlie for, I don’t know, for seven years. You owe her an explanation. You can’t keep running from your problems. You can’t keep masking yourself just to hide. You have to face them eventually. You’re the Queen of Hell for God’s sake!” Husk replies.
Lilith frowns at the words Husk uses.
Husk looks away with a small huff. “Look, if you want to keep hiding while your people fight your battle, that’s on you. But just know that you owe this much for Charlie.”
Husk strides out of the shop. Angel, Emily, Cherri, Sir Pentious, and Nifty walk out with him.
Alastor glances at Lilith. “I’ll punish him for you, your highness.”
“There’s no need,” Lilith says, waving her hand to release Alastor’s chains. “I no longer need your assistance.”
“Wait for real?”
“You want me to chain you up again--?”
“Nope, I’m good,” Alastor responds, backing up.
“Good. Now go,” Lilith orders. “Eat all the souls you want, but remember, if you make any deals with Charlie again, I will fucking kill you. You understand?”
“Yes, your highness.”
“Good. Now leave me,” Lilith says sadly.
Alastor hesitates for a moment until he exits the shop to leave the queen to wallow in self-pity.
~.~
Husk notices the cannibals gathered around the gazebo still in confusion. He stands under the gazebo roof and faces the cannibals, gaining their attention.
He looks at Angel, Cherri, Emily, Sir Pentious, and Nifty.
Angel gives his boyfriend a thumbs up in support, earning a smile from Husk.
Husk turns to face the audience with a deep breath. “So--”
“BOO! Get off the stage, narc!” Susan shouts at Husk.
Before Husk has a chance to quiet Susan down, he hears a beating drum. He looks to the side to find Nifty drumming beside the group, who looks at her in shock.
Husk takes a deep breath and looks at the audience of cannibals, now singing.
“We’re under-attacked.
Hell is slowly freezing over
And we’re standing on thin fucking ice.”
The cannibals listen closely, quieting Susan down from her critics. Husk continues to sing as he walks down the aisle in between the audience.
“Morrigan and Orais is going to kill us all
If we don’t stand together and fight them.
Now I can see what’s ahead, but only barely.
I only know that they’ll destroy us.
No, I won’t let them kill the ones I love.
Oh, I have to be ready for this.”
The cannibals starts to nod to each other as if they’re in agreement with Husk’s words as he sings in more determined voice.
“Listen,
If it’s not us, then who will rise up against them?
If we don’t fight, then how will we survive this climate?
We have to be ready.
Be ready for this.”
The cannibals nod their heads to the intense beat of the music. Husk sings passionately with his fist in the air.
“The worlds are ending right now.
No, I won’t sit back and watch everything go dark.
We have to be ready
Be ready for this.”
Angel smirks and slides in to sing between the cannibals behind Husk.
“C’mon, ya chums!
Get out your teeths
For the all you can eat buffet!”
Sir Pentious slithers next to Angel and sings mischievously.
“We got holy armory and weaponsss.
Ssssuit up and march on!”
The cannibals starts to march while Husk sees them following him, including Susan surprisingly.
Emily clenches her teeth and sings with uncertainty.
“I hope they’re not prepared for what’s coming.”
Husk, Angel, Sir Pentious, Cherri, and Nifty sing in unison and with passion.
“Because we’re going to fuck them up!”
“That’s a bit vulgar,” Emily says.
Nifty continues to sing, ignoring Emily’s words.
“If there’s one thing they don’t have--”
Sir Pentious and Cherri sing together for their verse.
“It’s our skills and the bonds we share!
We got them, baby”
“That’s two things,” Alastor says, joining in the scene.
Husk sings in determination.
“We have to be ready for this.”
The group sings in unison.
“We have to be ready for this!”
Sir Pentious croons with a bright smile.
“And if, if we ssstick together,
We’ll survive the next day.
Here’s to a fight!”
From within the shop, Lilith notices the cannibals marching out of the city. A gasp escapes from her lips in shock.
Back to the group, Alastor sings to the others.
“This is our only chance to take down the power couple of Hell.
So, let’s not screw it up.”
The group sings in unison again.
“We have to be ready for this!”
Nifty starts drumming rapidly, earning a dance number from the group. The cannibals join the dance. Angel and Husk dance with each other in the middle of the street. Cherri and Pentious dance with each other along with Emily and Nifty.
Alastor smiles and sings after the music break.
“Look now, we have ourselves a support system.”
Sir Pentious takes out his sword and points it upwards while singing.
“Raissse the flags and march into the battlefield!”
Emily brightly smiles while marching with her new friends.
“We’re once weak, but we’ll be something else.”
Nifty chirps in excitement.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”
Angel holds Husk’s hand to sing to him.
“We ain’t gonna let these chains stop us!”
Husk grips his boyfriend’s hand tightly.
“We ain’t gonna be losers, baby!”
Cherri pumps her arms up.
“Let the show go on!
They’ll see us ascend from the graves!”
The group shouts in unison.
“YEAH--!!”
The music stops as soon as the group finds Lilith standing in front of them. The cannibals stop their march idly in confusion.
Lilith sighs and sings passionately.
“I’ve fallen from grace for my rebellious nature.”
The beat drops once she starts to sing. The group sees Lilith coming to their side, standing next to Husk. She continues to sing passionately.
“As the queen of Hell, I’ve hidden my disguise well.
Never ready to face the world I’ve created.”
The group sings in unison around her.
“We have to be ready for this.”
Lilith smiles at Husk, who exchanges a smile back as she sings.
“For the past seven years,
I’ve watched my baby grow up without me.
More than anything, I want her to know
That I’ve not been far from her.”
The group sings softly besides her.
“More than anything.”
Lilith croons with her fists clenched.
“More than anything, I’m ready.”
Husk sings next with a smile.
“More than anything, I’m ready.”
Angel chirps next to his boyfriend.
“More than anything, I’m ready.”
The group sings in unison.
“More than anything, we’re ready for this!”
The music ends as the group and the cannibals poses as if they are ready for battle.
Alastor’s gaze turns into a deadpan stare. “Okay, let’s not pose here like idiots and fight this battle.”
“YEAH!!!” Nifty screams in encouragement while running ahead of them with a knife and cackling.
“Should we get her?” Angel whispers to Husk.
“Uh, maybe,” Husk answers with a shrug.
“Uh, Nifty, come back here!” Angel shouts while running after her.
Husk huffs up a laugh until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see Lilith smiling at him.
“Thank you,” Lilith whispers to Husk.
Husk nods his head and leads the group and the cannibals forward to catch up with Angel and Nifty.
~.~
“You think the others are okay?” Charlie asks while pacing around the fortress.
“Babe, you worry too much,” Vaggie responds, trying to calm her girlfriend.
“What if they’re slaughtered or hurt or--?”
“I see them on the cameras,” Carmilla says while looking at the monitors that showed the cameras. Then she notices a familiar queen standing by Husk. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Vaggie asks before Carmilla opens the doors.
Charlie stands by the doors and watches them open. Once they’re open, it’s revealed to be Lilith standing by Husk. Charlie winces back with a scared gasp.
“I won’t hurt you, Charlie,” Lilith reassures her daughter quickly.
“Yes, you will, bitch! You already try to stab me--”
“That’s not me, baby,” Lilith responds.
“How do I know you’re not lying?” Charlie growls, her eyes turning red with white pupils while her horns grow on the sides of her head in distrust.
Vaggie stands beside her girlfriend and takes out her spear.
Lilith frowns and sighs until an idea strikes her. Then she does Rosie’s voice. “Don’t worry, dear. Auntie Rosie is here.”
Charlie’s glare turns into a stare in confusion as if she hears a sound that’s foreign to her. Then she sees the others beside her with Nifty holding up a mask of Rosie’s face.
A sudden realization settles in. Charlie’s eyes go back to normal with her horns going back into her head.
“Holy shit, Mom?!”
Lilith nods tearfully.
Charlie starts to sob and jumps into Lilith’s arms. “MOM!”
Lilith embraces her and picks her up. “I won’t let you go again, baby. I won’t let you go again.”
“Y-You don’t think I’m an abomination?” Charlie asks with sniffles.
“Of course not, dear,” Lilith coos and hugs her daughter, walking into the fortress with Charlie in her arms. The army of cannibals following behind Husk, Angel, Nifty, Emily, Sir Pentious, Cherri, and Alastor.
Vaggie widens her eyes to find the number of cannibals coming into the fort. “Holy shit, how did you guys manage to get them to follow you?”
Angel smirks and looks at Husk. “Husk ain’t bad at convincing people to take up arms.”
“I got some help,” Husk says while looking at the group with a soft look...except for Alastor.
Vaggie puts her hands on her fists. “We need to prepare for battle.”
“Right!” Sir Pentious says with a mischievous smile. “I wonder what Carmilla has in store still.” He slithers off to find Carmilla.
Cherri chuckles at her boyfriend and follows after him. “I gotta see if Carmilla got some holy grenades.”
Nifty laughs maniacally and follows both Cherri and Sir Pentious. “Holy axes! Holy axes!!!”
Everyone stares at Nifty in concern.
“Is she okay?” Emily asks.
“Yeah, don’t worry about her,” Angel reassures Emily.
Emily strokes her long white hair. “This might be bothersome during the battle.”
Vaggie corners a smile. “Don’t worry, I got you, girl.”
Vaggie leads Emily into the fortress to find a pair scissors to cut Emily’s hair with, leaving Husk alone with the Angel.
Husk presses his head against Angel’s side.
“You doing okay, Husky?”
“With you, yeah, I’m just okay.”
Angel blushes and smiles softly. “Glad my presence comforts you. What do you say? Maybe we can take this conversation somewhere private?”
“Ugh, get a room you two,” Alastor groans, earning glares from Angel and Husk.
“Oh, shut it, ya old bastard,” Angel replies while standing in front of Husk to protect him.
“Don’t make me use Husk to hurt you again,” Alastor threatens, his voice going static.
“At least I know it comes from you, asshole,” Angel growls and holds Husk’s hand.
Husk blushes and lets Angel pull him into the fortress.
Alastor scoffs. “Ugh, lovers.”
~.~
While Vaggie cuts Emily’s hair short, the others are getting ready for bed for the night.
Angel and Husk shares a room while they cuddle each other in silence.
There are so many questions Angel has for his boyfriend. Now he realizes that his boyfriend is having visions, he wonders what his boyfriend sees that no one else does. With a deep breath, Angel ruffles Husk’s hair softly.
“Henry?”
“Hm?”
“You did amazing today,” Angel compliments.
Husk huffs a laugh. “You helped--”
“But you managed to pull an army together. That’s no small feat, babe.”
Husk frowns when he thinks about what he has said to Susan earlier.
“I love my kids.”
A sigh escapes Husk’s lips as he sits up from laying on his boyfriend.
Angel notices this and frowns. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Husk hugs his legs. “I didn’t see through anyone today. I just projected my own pain onto her.”
“What are you talking about?” Angel questions while sitting up next to Husk. “What pain?”
Husk rests his chin between his knees. “I--I---” He tries not to tear up. “Damn it.”
Angel places his hand on Husk’s shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. You can talk to me, you know.”
“I know...but you’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Babe, I’ve done and seen crazier things. I’m sure whatever it is, it won’t phase me.”
There’s a brief silence between them as Husk finally lets out a sigh.
“I keep seeing my mom in my dreams,” Husk confesses. “She left me behind with that dickhead of a father and disowned me a long time ago. But even in real life she did that, she’s somehow nice and caring in my head. Maybe I wished that. I mean, it’s revealed to be this...I don’t know how to describe him. I Am? Yeah. That’s his name.”
“I Am? That’s a strange name.”
“You’re telling me,” Husk says with a laugh. A frown returns his face. “These visions are starting to bother me. I keep seeing puzzle pieces of our future. I don’t know if they’ll come true. What if they all come true? What if they all show that you’re dead? That everyone in this damn place is dead? W-What if--?”
“Hey, hey, baby, don’t get lost in those thoughts. Okay? It’s okay--”
“No, it’s not. The world’s going to end and it’s only a matter of time before we all die.”
Angel winces at Husk for interrupting him.
Husk sighs and grabs his head. “I’m sorry.”
Angel holds him and rubs his shoulders with both of his hands. “If we all die tomorrow, maybe...maybe we can make love before that happens.”
Husk glances up at Angel in shock at how he phrases the words. Then he leans against Angel’s chest, shaking his head and tearing up more.
“N-No.”
“No?”
“No. If we do this now, then it’s like we’re saying goodbye to each other. A-And I don’t want to say goodbye.”
Angel frowns at his boyfriend to find him sobbing into his chest fluff. He caresses the back of Husk’s head, letting his extra arm limbs pull out from the middle of him while his top arms manage to move Husk’s face to look into his tearful yellow eyes.
“We don’t have to say goodbye, baby,” Angel says softly, using his middle and bottom set of arms to pull Husk further to get him closer to his face. “We don’t have to say goodbye.”
They both kiss on the lips. It’s soft at first until Husk crawls up and holds Angel’s face, kissing him deeper with small moans.
They pull away, staring at each other’s eyes with heavy eyelids.
“Wanna make-out?” Angel asks, his voice hoarse. “It doesn’t have to involve taking our clothes off.”
Husk caresses Angel’s cheek. “Yeah.” Without hesitation, Husk kisses his boyfriend’s lips. Angel wraps six of his arms around Husk’s body, holding his body closer to his. Husk falls over to the side while Angel moves his kisses to his cheek and travels under his jaw.
Husk lets out a small moan that would’ve turned Angel on and caused him to lose control. But for Husk’s sake, Angel keeps himself under control while his kisses trail onto Husk’s neck. Husk purrs while his fur stands on its end from the electrifying feeling of love.
Angel moves on top of Husk, kissing his fluffy chest. “You’re so soft, baby.”
Husk stares up at the ceiling, feeling his boyfriend’s lips on his stomach. When Husk shivers, Angel moves his kisses back to his chest.
“Sorry, baby,” Angel whispers while kissing his shoulder.
Husk can’t say anything without letting out small moans.
Angel smirks at hearing Husk moaning softly. “I didn’t think I was going to get you to moan so easily.”
“You know, you’re turning me on, right?”
“Heh, I have that way with people,” Angel responds.
“But I’m yours, ain’t I?”
Angel kisses Husk’s lips. Husk feels Angel’s six hands roaming through his body, with the bottom set of hands teasing around the waist as if he’s ready to take off Husk’s pants, but won’t since this is not what they agreed upon...unless Husk says he wants it.
Angel breaks away from Husk’s lips. “Of course you are. Am I yours, baby?”
Husk nods breathlessly.
“Good,” Angel whispers into Husk’s ears. “I want to be yours forever. I don’t want to be with anyone else right now. Just you.”
“Oh, fuck, please don’t leave me, baby~.”
“I won’t. I won’t. I’m right here.” Angel takes the straps of his suspenders off of Husk’s shoulders so that he can have more access to his shoulders.
“I thought this doesn’t involve taking our clothes off.”
“You’re not wearing a shirt, babe,” Angel teases. “Besides, I want taste your shoulders a little more.”
Husk hums when Angel starts kissing his shoulders. Both Angel and Husk stop their movements as soon as Angel feels Husk’s erection against Angel’s stomach. Angel looks down to find his hard-on is pressing against his pants and then glances up at Husk.
“Need help down there, baby?” Angel teases with a smirk.
Husk blushes madly. “Seriously?”
“Hey, I’m good at sucking cock--”
“Okay, you ruined the mood.”
Angel giggles at his boyfriend and kisses his fluffy face. “Aw, baby, you’re going to have let me suck down there eventually.”
Husk blushes at the thought of it. “Eventually.”
Angel smirks teasingly. “The world’s ending. It might be the last time I sucked a dick--”
Husk rolls his eyes playfully. “Okay, that’s enough out of you.”
Angel chuckles. “You know, I’m teasing, baby.”
“You better be.”
Angel kisses Husk’s neck, making his pants tighter. Angel starts to suck on Husk’s neck softly.
“I swear if you leave a hickey on me.”
“I won’t. Trust me,” Angel says with a little wink at his boyfriend.
~.~
Val is busy counting the bills in his office at Porn Studios, which he has to squint his eyes to look at through his red glasses. Then he feels chills down his spine. He looks to realize that the blue aura is glowing on his left hand.
“Huh? Someone’s making out at this hour?” Val responds. “I wonder who.”
Val throws the blue aura in front of him, getting him to reveal whoever is making out at this hour. But almost to his surprise, he sees Angel kissing Husk’s body with Husk moaning in pleasure. Val tilts his head and smiles evilly.
“Oh, you little slut,” Val replies evilly. He’s able to zoom out from Angel’s bedroom to find that he’s at a familiar fortress where the famous Carmilla Carmine lives. “Oh, this will be interesting.”
Val picks up the new contract for Angel's soul and heads out of his office.
To Be Continued...
#hazbin hotel: the contract of blood#angel dust#huskerdust#nifty hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#cherri hazbin hotel#sir pentious#emily hazbin hotel#cherri bomb#hazbin hotel husk#vaggie hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#the vees#cherrisnake#hazbin hotel rosie#lilith morningstar
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This au is a parasite on my noggin....
What a small girl. She looked weaker than any kid Godot had ever seen. Dark bags under her eyes and she was a mess. Her hair was supposedly straight but after days of hiding in bushes and hardly surviving at all, he didn't blame her for her hair resembling a rat's nest.
And gods, she shouldn't even have been there. She should have been with a family member being cared for by loving hands, not at her papa's trial. Such a young child, she had done nothing to deserve that.
Of everyone in the office, the girl seemed to fear Godot most. Again, he couldn't blame her. His mask was odd and he wasn't the most friendly looking man out there.
Still, it was important she trusted him. Hesitantly, he removed his mask and lay it aside. The world was a horribly dark blur without it, but he could tolerate not seeing for just a little bit, just long enough to talk to her.
He knelt in front of her chair, carefully grabbing one of her hands.
"Are you ready, Elena?" he asked as carefully as he could.
"No," her tiny voice squeaked.
"It will be okay, lady Clarissa will hold your hand and she'll stand next to you. No one can hurt you up there."
"What about Harvey?"
"There's twenty guards and Clarissa is just as good at magic as your papa, they'll all protect you and you won't even get scratched!" Godot smiled as he said it.
He could only hope his words had calmed her for he could not see her face. He sat beside her and she asked every question she could think of about the trial.
Will they listen to me? What about papa? Would they take papa away? Can I hug papa?
"Why do you have a scar on your face?" she finally asked.
Oh. That.
Godot never done much to hide it for he never saw it himself, but it was still there. Just under his left eye, going diagonally up and ending at his hairline above his brow. He could only imagine it made him look scarier, but it wasn't as bad as that accursed mask.
"I knew a girl called Maya. She was very special, a lot like you. Someone tried to hurt her, but I protected her," he explained.
"So they hurt you instead?" Elena muttered.
Not because it was him specifically, but she wasn't wrong.
"Yes, they did. But I survived and I'm fine now, and what's more important is that Maya is too!" he smiled.
Elena stayed silent for too long. He wanted so desperately to now if he had said something wrong but the accursed poison that ruined his eyes couldn't make an exception just this once. He was left wondering.
"Will they hurt lady Clarissa?" she whispered.
Who knows. It was anyone's guess really. She might get hurt shielding Elena or Harvey might try to kill her for being so close to Osvald. Perhaps even the townspeople might hurt her, thinking she was an accomplice to the crime, whatever it was. There were so many ways lady Clarissa could get hurt.
"They won't. I'll make sure you both come out unscathed, I promise," he said firmly.
...
...
...
Again, that dammed unreadable silence. How he cursed Dahlia, cursed the day she took not only his years of his life but his appearance. He once looked normal, he once had eyes that didn't need a mask to see. Once, what felt like a lifetime ago, he did not scare people by merely existing.
...
"You're right. No one will hurt us if they know how strong you are!" Elena said, an odd sound at the end of her sentence.
A chuckle.
She wasn't scared.
The door opened and a guard ushered them inside the courtroom. Dozens of spectators watched their every move as they entered. Godot took his place, and with his mask back on, he could see Elena and Clarissa wait by the entrance. She held her head up high and tightly clutched Clarissa's hand. What a brave young girl she was, not daring to show how scared she was in a court of law.
...
He absolutely could not get the guilty verdict, no matter what it cost. Elena didn't need to be strong, she needed her papa.
TURNABOUT SCHOLARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
elena being so brave entering the courtroom…godot taking off his mask when he talks to elena so she isn’t scared…….. weh,,,,,,,,,, pie the power you now hold with being able to write about godot now……
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Papà [Bruno x f!reader]
Summary: the three sibling had an agreement to use the youngest's gift to track down their father, but things didn't go as planned. sequel to the "please don't be inlove with someone else" fic.
warning: mentions of blood, fight, death, as well as murder. Swear words. RIP MANUEL 😭✊ RIP SNAKE (no animal is harmed at the making of this fic 😇)
note: she/her for reader, he/him for bruno. Bruno and reader also had three kids: Mateo, first born, who has levitation gift, same age as Isabella and Dolores (21); Alondra, middle child, who has a gift of what she paints can became real, same age as Luisa (19); and Diego, yougest, has a time traveling gift, same age as mirabel, and camilo (15).
Created: January 18, 2022
published: February 1, 2022
part 1 part 2
" 'Teo?" [Name] called out holding decorations for her nephew's ceremony, the said boy answered with a hum, "have you seen Diego? I can't find him in his room."
The oldest child of Bruno: Mateo's eyes widen at the statement. "Ahh, he told me he took Pablo out for a... walk! Yea."
"Rats don't need walks, and I thought he likes Pablo because they both hate outside?"
The boy cursed through his teeth, not wanting to be caught, he tried to make another excuse, his grip on the book tightening. "He um.. he—" on queue, his sister: Alondra, walk past them holding her painting equipment. The dark-haired boy took this opportunity to pass the situation to his sister. "Alondra! She knows where Diego went!"
The girl's ears perked up with the sound of her name, shooting her brother with a confused look. Mateo signaled her to make an excuse, so she did. "I got him stuck in a wall, 'cause he's being annoying again."
"Of course, you did," the [eye. color] shook her head smiling to herself. "can you get him for me, Mija?"
"Sì Mamà, but it might take a while. I forgot which wall it was."
[Name] chuckled at her daughter's words, "okay, but make it quick. We need him to make a portal, we don't want abuela to get mad." She continued her way but stops when she remembers something. "Oh, and 'Teo? Can you help your Tìa with the cooking?"
"Sure! See you later, Mamà!"
"Also, put coins on the swear jar, I heard that!" She replied, making the oldest groan.
The two siblings stared at their mother as she quickly gave the banner to Jose with Antonio's name.
"How is he still not back?? We're gonna get in trouble for this!" The [hair. color] harshly whispered to her older brother who had a concerned look.
"Don't worry, he'll be back. We just have to wait for him, that's all we can do for now. By the way, can I borrow some money?"
~~
Time traveling can be useful but also a handful. Finding out why their father left is not as easy as it may seem. Diego can't mess up the timeline, or everything won't go according to plan.
The plan is simple, he needs to find clues why his father left, and where will he be if he's still alive.
He didn't think of anything like this. How come his sweet loving mother, brutally punched a guy two times her size.
He never knew his mother was such a pain in the head, he never knew his father was such a coward. The teen stood frozen in place, right before him is his mother's past self: [name]— absolutely destroying some guy's face.
Disobeying is his natural habit, but he means well. All he needs is information about his father's whereabouts, The boy didn't expect chaos in front of him.
Wait, is that... Señor Torres— what!? He'll die if Mamì continues like this, he can't die! It will mess up the timeline! Wait, no. I'm not supposed to be here so, I'm not supposed to interfere.
The teen forced himself to stay at his place, as expected, the townspeople are trying to get the [hair. color] off the guy, but she stayed.
"[Name]! Por favor, he had enough!"
"He needs to learn his lesson, Bruno!"
"He learned it well! [Name]!"
This is bad, very bad. We need someone strong... Luisa! Wait no, she's not born yet... what to do, what to do... Tìa! TÌA PEPA!!
The dark-haired boy sprinted around the town, which is smaller than he thought. He came across his tìa Julieta's stand and didn't hesitate to rush over. He saw a younger version of Julieta as well as Agustin, who dislocated his shoulder from rolling down a mountain.
"Tì— Julieta! Julieta, [name]'s in trouble!" He silently cringe to himself when he called them out by their names, feeling like a disrespectful child for not calling them Tìa or Mamì.
"Bruno? What do you mean? Where is she??"
Bruno? I'm not Bruno‐ do I really look like that twig???
"She's by señ-" he cleared his throat, trying to mask up to his mistake. "She's by The Torres residence."
"Alright, I'll go get Pepa, be sure to not be seen by Mamà."
Pepa and Julieta arrived at the right moment, and escort them to la casita. He eavesdropped on their conversation, trying to gather information. His heart softens at how caring his mother is, the boy can't help but feel anger at him for leaving her.
"Good thing, Bruno found me just in time." Diego heard Tìa's words as she place a meal in both of his parent's hands.
he knew he messed up, he's not supposed to help, but he did. A small wrong gesture can get an entire town destroyed, the butterfly effect is something he feared.
"Me? I'm right next to [nickname] the entire time."
Shoot! Please ignore it, ignore iiiiiit.
"Really?" Julieta hum in thought she was sure she saw him running to her with a panicked expression. "I may have been seeing things."
YES, DÌOS, BLESS YOU WITH EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD!
Diego send a thankful flying kiss at the sky before he continued his eavesdropping until he heard the younger version of his parents flirt with each other. He shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to be there anymore, he made a portal out of the sand, to go back to his present time.
Diego groaned as he climbed out of the portal to his room where he collects sand.
What did I do to deserve this punishment?? it's beEN A MONTH! NO CLUE ABOUT PAPA!!
Dusting himself, he dragged his feet out of the room of sand into his actual bedroom. The youngest witnessed his older siblings feeding his pet rat: Pablo on top of his bed before they turned to the sound of an opened door.
"Where were you?? Do you know how long you've been gone? Mamà is looking for you!" Alondra was the first one to speak up.
"Can I at least take a rest for a minute??" He protested, laying on his bed, still processing what just happened.
"Talk to Mamà first, she was getting worried, you've been gone for almost an hour."
Mamà, that word sends shivers down his spine as he recalls the events he just witness.
"You seem shaken, did you find information about Papà's disappearance?" The oldest pointed out, scooting closer, ready to hear what happen.
"No, I just... witnessed something unexpected."
The girl made a disgusted expression, "Dios Mio if this is about Papà and Mamà doing‐"
"No! No, no, no, no, ew." He gagged at the memory he caught his parents doing the thing when he accidentally made a portal at the time they were doing it. "Please, not a word about that."
"Then what did you see?"
"An attempted murder."
The two's olive eyes widen at the statement. "I never knew Papà can be so violent," the oldest mutter, disappointment plastered on his features.
"Not Papì, Mamì!— She almost killed someone!" He throws his hands around, still in disbelief. "I just want a moment to process things, can I have a nap?"
"You can, but Mamà will bring the chancla on us again." Alondra chuckled at her own joke.
A knock interrupted their conversation and speaking of the devil, [name] peeked into the room before beaming when she saw her little ones. Well, not so little anymore.
"There you guys are, I've checked your rooms you're not there. Antonio's ceremony is gonna start after two hours, the kids are looking for you!" She announced, before walking out, leaving the door open. "Especially you, 'Teo. Gabriela is looking for you~" the woman teased, a smirk plastered on her features.
"She is?" He inquired, eyes lighting up. "Get up, Dee! Let's go!"
"Jeez, can't get enough with your girlfriend." Still laying, Diego raises his arms. "Carry me."
The dark-haired rolls his eyes, before using bringing his hand up—his hand as well as his younger brother light up with bright green luminescence. The young adult carried him out of the room before he heard a complaint.
"Carry me too, you owe me an excuse and 20 peso coins."
Party was overwhelming. For Alondra, that is. Firstly, people can't understand the meaning of personal space. Second, her hand hurts from drawing so many objects as well as small living things like bunnies, butterflies, etc. Shrugging her shoulders to get the handoff—of a stranger her age, she smiled awkwardly while gripping hard on her sketchbook, before going to the nearest family member which is: Agustin.
"Aye, 'Londra!" The tall man greeted with a smile, "how's the party?"
"I hate parties." she blandly replied, getting the man beside her to laugh. "my wrist and fingers hurt, I hate it here."
"you usually stayed on the corner, I'm surprised you're interacting with the townspeople!"
"Tonito wants me to make friends and since it's his special day, I'm trying my best for him," she stated, trying to crack her fingers and letting out a satisfied sigh once she did. "I never knew people are like this."
"well, you'll get used to it! You can tell them if you feel uncomfortable, they'll adjust for you—" Agustin's voice faded when Alondra's attention shifted to the second floor of la casa Madrigal, she was certain she saw a motion by the plants near it—it was big so the girl figured it couldn't be a Rat.
The painting next to Dolores's room moved. No, it didn't swing like any painting would, it opened like a door, even though the movement is so small and unnoticeable, the [hair. color] can see it well and clear.
"Alondra, Tìa [name] wants to see you," Dolores announced, subconsciously looking at the painting, which the girl found suspicious.
"Okay? I'll go there now." As she strolled down the path, the girl can't help but think about the thing she saw upstairs.
"Hey, you were called too?" Turning to her left, she saw her two brothers before nodding in conformation. They looked around, and finally find their mother at the dining area, with a... man?
"Oh, come on now, Hermosa. Your husband's not here, he disappeared 10 years ago! You're free and you know it~" the man kissed [name]'s hand, she was clearly uncomfortable, and angry. Very angry.
The youngest looked mortified, as he saw his mother's fist balled uptight, her clenched jaw, as well as her stiff posture.
She's gonna kill him, oh no. No no no no, we can't ruin 'Tonio's first and only gift ceremony... run while you can man, you'll die here!
"Mamì," He called, Diego could see her relaxed a bit and greeted them with a smile.
"Mijo, Mija! You're here! Lo Siento, Liam but my children need me." As soon as she turned away, the guy 'Liam' pulled her back.
"Don't turn me down, amor! Just think about it, you've been alone for 10 years, I'm the best you've got!"
"I don't need a man in my life, so please let go before I break your—"
"Mamà! Let's go now, vámonos!" Mateo grabbed hold of her shoulders, leading her away from the man who huffs at them.
"Thank you, Mijo. That guy could not take a hint!" The woman scoffed, motioning her fingers like she's crushing something, making her youngest gulp at sight. "Why are you all here? I only called one of you."
"Dolores said you want to see me when I was minding my own business," Alondra answered, her emerald-like eyes trailed back to the painting.
"Me too, Is it just me or the rats are trying to get to that painting?" Diego pointed out, eyes are also on the same painting his sister is staring at. "Pablo came running to it, I tried to stop him but 'Lores called out on me." ('Lores is short for Dolores.)
"Let's not think too much, mi Corazon. Tonight is for Antonio, you guys can do the exploring tomorrow."
~~
I never knew there are so many stars.
Diego is on his mission once again, he sat on top of a tree, having a clear view of his mother and father's younger selves. Not gonna lie, he was enjoying it.
The two are laying on the so-called field that his mother always talks about, saying how clear the sky is when it's dark, the constellations above them, not to mention the fireflies surrounding the place.
It was enchanting.
He made sure to be out of sight but still close to hearing their conversation. The youngest was told to not eavesdrop, he can't help but feel guilty every time he did.
"So, who do you love?" [Name] asked, looking straight at Bruno, a tiny smile that resembles her sisters is showing.
"Oh, uh... you know her very well actually..."
"Really? What's her name then?"
"I— I can't tell you.."
"Why not? You know I hate guessing games."
"I know, that's why it's a guessing game!" The future-teller exclaims the girl groans at the statement. "She's very... pretty."
"Is it... Sofia?" Looking at her friend with an excited expression, thinking she got it right.
"No! I don't like her that way, plus she hates me. The girl I like is kind, brave, and such a lovely person."
"Kind, brave... lovely... Oh! Is it Palmora?? It's her, right?? She's kind, brave, and not to mention very lovely!"
Palmora?? Señora Palmora??? THE LADY WHO HIT ME IN THE HEAD??! YOU CALL THAT KIND—
Diego lightly scoffs, she can't be kind. She hits him with her fan when he accidentally bumps into her!
"No! Not her, She always gives me these weird looks, I hate it.."
"What?? Come on bub, how is it not her? There are no more girls that are lovely, brave, and kind! Or wait... is she, Yolanda?? Not sure about brave though."
"No, she's not her. Yolanda is kind, and lovely too. But I like someone else." He stared at her like she's a goddess that came down to earth, well technically in his eyes, she is.
MAMÌ CAN'T YOU SEE HIM GIVING YOU HEART EYES RIGHT NOW???
"Okay fine, one more hint!" [Name] exclaimed, laughing a little as a tiny firefly landed on top of her friend's nose.
"Shoo, shoo! Okay, she's..." he hesitated, but still continue. "My best friend for 2 years."
Not this again, I've heard this a hundred times! Mamì knows it's her, then they flirted on the way back, I hate my life. Why am I doing here?? I need to go forward.
The dark-haired boy silently climbed down the tree before doing another portal, this time a different timeline.
Diego was out again into the same place, same starry night, same field, same tree. The only difference is the time, 2 years after their moment.
He saw his parents' past selves, sat on the same spot, the boy noticed that they have different looks, a little older than the one he just saw earlier. His mother's hair is tied up in a ponytail unlike earlier she had them loose. He noticed that his father's hair is a little longer than the other past Bruno.
"I'm scared for Manuel..." his father's past self-started, "I really hope nothing happens to him."
"We already left him in the casita, he's safe there. come on bub, cheer up!"
Manuel?? Who the hell is that??
"He's not safe anywhere. My vision has one clear path and that is: He's gonna die!" The future-teller rolled himself in a ball, he was on the edge of tears. "...I don't want anything to happen to him."
"Aye, Bruno... it's gonna be okay. I'm sure Casita will protect him!" She scoots closer, rubbing his back in comfort.
WHO'S MANUEL-
The time-traveler was cut off when he heard a loud squeak. A fat rat snuggled into Bruno's neck, squeaking loudly, missing his owner dearly.
"Manuel?! What are you doing here?? I told you to stay at home!" He had a frown on his face, scolding his little companion, holding him on his palms. "You can't go outside it's too dangerous!"
"Oh no, let's hurry back before anything happens—" [name]'s words got caught in her throat as a snake suddenly attack Bruno's beloved pet rat, causing her to scream in shock.
Diego Madrigal watch in horror as the two tried to fight off the snake, still trying their best to save the Rat, but to their avail, they were too late.
It all happened so fast he didn't catch his mother beating the animal with the lamp.
He watch from the top of the tree as his father cried about the death of his favorite rat. If it was so terrifying to him when was 2 feet away from the chaos, how terrifying is it to them??
That's it, I quit. I'm too young for this.
Those words kept repeating in mind as he got back to his present time, hunting his older sibling with a frown. He finally found them at the balcony on the second floor with their mother, sweeping the flowers, keeping the house clean for the guests.
"Aye, Dee! Welcome back, how's your little adventure?" His older sister greeted him with a smile that resembles their mom.
The time traveler march over to them, picking up his bottle that was once filled with sand, it was the object that he used to make portals. Before dropping them in front of his older siblings.
"I quit this shit. I've seen too much! Never again!"
"Diego, that's 20 on the swear jar." [Name] gave him a look, which he ignored, too mad to care about swearing. The boy pointed accusingly at his siblings.
"Mamì! You don't know what they make me d- mmMMM!" Mateo swiftly put his hand to his brother's mouth to keep him from talking.
"Ssshhhh!"
"Mamà! Don't you think the sky is beautiful? It had various types of colors!" Alondra dragged her mother away from the boys, trying to distract her.
"What did you guys do now?" The woman asked sternly, glancing at her kids who had the same terrified face. "Is this the reason why Diego's been disappearing lately?"
The three looked like kicked puppies, feeling guilty that they kept a big secret from their mother. They're supposed to be a team, looking out for one another. No secrets unless it's a personal one.
"Am I interrupting something...?" A new voice called. The madrigals in green glace at Mirabel as she awkwardly stood near them.
"Um, no. We're done here, for now." eyeing her two sons trying to sneak away, while the girl is trying to hold them back. "What do you need mi sobrina?"
"Can I ask you about Tìo Bruno's visions?"
Bruno. The name caught the kids' attention. Why would she be asking about him now?
"Bruno? Wow, I haven't heard that name for a long time." She smiled, before humming in thought. "You need to be specific with your question, Mirabel."
"Oh yea, um. Is there a possibility that Tìo's vision can be... good? I mean, all I've heard all day was he spreads bad luck to the town.."
Mirabel as well as [name]'s three kids, looked at her, expecting an answer right away. "Well... he does have visions that have a good outcome, it was rare though. But if he did get one, Bruno will tell me right away, smiling happily showing me the green glass.." the woman smiled at the memory, before clearing her throat. "Is that all, Mirabel?"
"Did he ever give you a good vision?" All of them stared at her intensely.
"Yes actually, it was only once though. I think it was a week after we got together, I really want to see him do a vision in action and we kinda peaked into the future too much, 'cause..." she paused, a bashful smile showed in her features. "He saw the two of us getting married."
"WHAT??"
"I need a love story like yours and papà"
"AWWWW"
"I want a vision now."
The woman laughed at their reactions, it was one of her favorite days with him, she remembered it like it was yesterday. The way he avoids eye contact, too embarrassed about the vision. Whenever she caught him admiring the glass. It was the good old times.
"Okay, Tìa? What about the worst vision he ever gave you..?"
[Name]'s eyes widen at the horrible memory, even if it's years ago. She can't even mention his name without grieving. "Um, Bruno and I have this pe rat, he survived for 2 years and we were expecting him to be less energetic since he reached the end of his life span, but he was healthy like before."
Pet rat... is this Manuel??? The onE WHO GOT EATEN BY THAT SNAKE??? NOW IT MAKES SENSE WHY THEY'RE SO TROUBLED ABOUT HIM LEAVING CASITA. THAT WAS A VISION???? I take back what I've said earlier. I don't want a vision anymore.
"What happened next? What happened to the rat?" He heard his sister ask, all he wanted to do it to shut her up but he can't look suspicious. He's still traumatized from it, I mean it came out of nOWHERE AND SNATCHED THE RAT FROM HIS FATHER'S HANDS LIKE HE'S STEALING A CANDY FROM A BABY—
"We look into the future, wanting to know long he will live, we both thought he can live for another year but what we saw is very unexpected, and kinda disturbing."
Kinda? KINDA??? YOU CALL THE KINDA DISTURBING?? I'm losing my mind right now.
"What did you see?" Mirabel inquired, very curious about it. What vision can be much worse, so what if the rat died it's nature, just like señora Ozma's fish.
"He was eaten by a snake."
WHAT? It's still nature, they eat stuff to survive.
"He was snatched from Bruno's hands. He was holding him like this— then the snake just came and bites him." [Name] motions her hands, using it as a visual presentation of what happened.
"NOOOOO"
"Rest in Peace little rat."
"That sounds horrible..."
"It's more terrifying if you were actually there."
Part 2
#bruno madrigal x reader#bruno x reader#bruno madrigal#encanto bruno#bruno madrigal x y/n#bruno x oc#bruno madrigal x oc#bruno madrigal x female reader
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It's Been A Long, Long Time (David x Reader)
Key:
[NAME] - Your Name
[LAST NAME] - Your Last Name
[COLOR] - Your Hair/Eye Color
Requested By @gloom-patrol: I've had this idea in my head for a fic (you can make it a series or a one shot) But basically the reader is a witch who knew David before he turned and she got pregnant with his baby. And then years later reader and her son move to Santa Carla and heard her son made new friends (the boys) the son would be around the same age as the boys bc he's a half witch so he ages differently. And the readers around the same age bc she's immortal. But slight angsty reunion with David but ending with major fluff 🥺
Reader Gender: Female
Summary: You and David were going to get married and start a family in your little town— and then he disappeared. For weeks and months you waited for him, but he never came back. Years down the line, after a while of living a nomadic life with your son, something strange calls you to settle down in Santa Carla, California. Your son quickly finds kindred spirits in a group of boys that stalk the pier, and one of them wears a familiar face...
Warnings: angst, mentions of death and poor treatment of women, like just really shit people in general, very vague hints at a bad childhood for david, slightly ooc david, pre-emerson au, a backstory thats v different from canon, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, cursing, max is a dick, it’s got a bittersweet ending, i think that’s it.
A/n: ha ha ouchie, this one was kinda painful. how did i manage to write something this long without even giving david a last name? idk. probably should’ve made this like a series or somethin.
also this is sorta based on that song it’s been a long, long time, so feel free to listen to it!
Word Count: 2.7k +
As night falls over your small town, the crickets coming out and filling the cooling air with their song, David is getting ready to leave. You sit in the kitchen-living room of your shared home, rocking nervously on his grandmother’s old rocking chair and wringing your hands in your nightgown; he’s doing too many things at once, trying to sift through his wallet and pull on his pants at the same time.
“Are you sure about this?” You ask for what must be the umpenteenth time.
The blond turns to you and nods with a smile. “I’m sure.”
He’s being incredibly patient, especially for him, but he knows you have reason to worry. The townspeople have been treating you both terribly since you arrived in the first place, but, now that you’re both living together, still so young and only engaged with a baby on the way, they’ve started being particularly hostile. It was one thing when he left to work everyday, leaving at night to go meet someone in town was entirely another.
You sigh. “Just be safe. Please.”
“Always am.”
David has the audacity to grin at you and you can’t help but narrow your eyes. He knows you love his smile.
“You worry too much.” He teases, crossing the room to kiss you on the forehead.
“I think I worry the right amount, thank you very much.”
He laughs softly, a beautiful sound, and finally does his belt up.
“Who are you even going into town for at this hour?”
“A potential business associate, dear [NAME].” He smooths his hair back. “He saw me working today and wants to discuss a job offer.”
Your hesitance must be evident in your face because he’s soon leaning down in front of you again, tucking a [COLOR] hair behind your ear.
“I have faith in this, doll. It could be our one way ticket out of this hellhole.”
His hand comes to rest on your protruding stomach, thumb rubbing in a circular motion.
“I want our kid to have more than we ever did, baby.” He whispers, sounding like he’s talking to himself more than anything. “And I want to get you a ring.”
Even if you were still worried silly, you knew that it meant a lot to him and there was no stopping him now. You press a few quick, soft kisses to his lips and cheeks, getting up to follow him to the door.
He tugs on his shoes haphazardly.
“Don’t stay up, okay? You need your sleep.” David whispers after kissing you once more.
“I won’t.” It’s a lie, you will.
The sound of the car starting is loud and sharp in contrast, cutting harshly through nature’s nighttime melody, and it continues to drown out everything all the way down the dirt road.
As jarring as it was, you miss it and him as soon as it’s gone.
When you can no longer see the shadowy figure of the vehicle you slink back inside the house, sitting on the couch and watching the clock turn until you unwillingly fall asleep.
David never returns.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The next day a short, round man with a bulbous nose and barely any hair wakes you up by showing up at your door. He introduces himself as Mr. Brown, the ‘business associate’ your fiancé mentioned the previous night, and he asks to see David, stating the younger man never showed up and he wants to know why.
He hesitantly pats your back as you sit on the porch chair and cry.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
You file a police report, but that hardly does anything; they abandon the search within a few weeks.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
A month after he disappears you give birth to a (healthy) seven pound, six ounce baby boy. You and David never really discussed names, relying on the idea that one would just come to you as soon as you saw the kid, but now that he’s in your arms you just can’t think of one.
“What about Nathan?” Barbara, the town nurse, suggests as they pack up their tools.
“Nathan…” You repeat, smiling down at your boy and loving the way it sounds.
“Nathan [LAST NAME]” Dr. Johnson is quick to remind you.
Your shoulders deflate under the man’s sharp gaze. He rattles off some condescending medical nonsense and gives you his number in case of emergency before he leaves, but you never look up at him.
He doesn’t know the house’s phone barely works, and now you and Nathan are on your own.
“It’s just me and you little guy…” You whisper.
Nathan, in all of his cherubic newborn glory, only gurgles in response.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months and David is still gone. You try everything, sifting through dozens of your mothers spells trying to locate him and always coming up short.
One day, four months after the disappearance, David’s father, Jesse, comes by and tells you to leave.
“I was only letting you stay because David was paying me.” He says.
You try to explain that you could get a job if he and his wife would watch their grandson, but he just won’t listen. He won’t even look at Nathan.
The man who was meant to be your father-in-law gives you three days to pack anything that belongs to you or your son.
On the first day, you pack away the few things you truly own.
On the second, you call your mother and ask her for a place to stay. She says yes, of course, but you were never worried about that.
And on the third you sit on the porch until sunset, mourning a life you never got to have with your baby in your arms. You tell your son about his first home, and how much he would’ve loved it there, and silently wish that, by some miracle, David would randomly return.
You catch the latest bus back to your childhood home and Nathan cries the entire ride.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Years and years go by and your little boy grows into your face. He has your [COLOR] hair and your smile; he talks like you and walks like you and he even stopped aging at the same age you did. But his eyes are all David.
Sometimes it’s hard to look at him, but you love him so damn much.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Nathan asks about David a lot as he grows, you tell him all that you can remember. Stories of you two, of how you met and of the future you were going to live; when he asks where his dad went, you can only tell him something bad happened and that you’ll tell him the specifics when he’s older. You don’t want him to think he was abandoned, and you don’t want to accept the reality that you might be.
He still doesn’t get the full picture when he’s older.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Life can be quite boring when you never really age past a certain point, so you and your son have made the most of it. After a few years in Utah, it was a unanimous decision that a change of scenery was desperately needed.
However, he didn’t seem too keen on Santa Carla when you finally arrived.
“‘Murder capital of the world’ oh, that’s rich mom-” Nathan says, turned around in the passenger seat.
You furrow your brows, glancing in the rear view mirror. Sure enough, the pretty sign that had welcomed you also bore the ominous message in bright orange graffiti.
“It can’t be that bad…” Your sentence tapers off, attention turning back to the road.
Your son huffs.
“You’re basically immortal, Nate. I’m sure you’re going to be fine.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Well, then you’ll discover where the nickname comes from.”
Nathan sticks his tongue out at you for teasing him and makes the music louder as you laugh.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Magic certainly makes moving easier. All you have to do is whisper a few words and your boxes start to unpack themselves, and, between the two of you, everything gets settled before nightfall.
You’re setting up a few protective wards, the message from that sign echoing through your mind, when he emerges from his bedroom, dressed to go out. You watch in silent confusion as he tugs on some boots.
“Hey, mom, can I go check out the boardwalk?”
It was almost amusing how he already knew you’d let him go. By the time you finish giving him your permission, he’s shouting ‘love you, mom!’ on his way out the door; you respond ‘love you too, be careful!’, your voice competing with the motor of the stupid motorbike he begged you to buy.
When he’s gone, you snort and shake your head.
Even if he doesn’t look like him, there’s an uncanny resemblance between David and Nathan.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
He doesn’t get back in until late, and you ask him about it the next morning at breakfast.
“I met these really cool guys, mom!” He says excitedly, chowing down on some sugary cereal. “They're just— they’re bitchin’!”
Nathan breaks out into the tale of his night, talking at lightning speed all about motorcycles and pretty girls and his crazy new friends. There’s a Paul (a blonde who apparently ate a whole ice cream cone in two bites), a Marko (who dared Paul to eat the ice cream that way), a Dwayne (a brunette who held disappointment in his face but did nothing to stop it), and a David (who kept watching him weirdly through the night.)
You hide the way your gut twists at the name in a smile over the rim of your mug. “They sound like a fun time, Hun.”
Nathan nods exuberantly, his [COLOR] hair flopping about as he does.
“They are, mom. I’m gonna go hang with them again tonight— if you don’t mind, that is.”
You laugh a little.
“As long as you’re careful and don’t burn yourself out. I’d rather not have to drag you back from the beach after you passed out.”
Nathan puffs and waves a hand dismissively. “You worry too much, mom.”
Cocking a brow as he gets up and puts his dish in the sink, you’re quick to bite back.
“I worry just the right amount, thank you very much!”
The déjà vu of the situation sticks with you all day.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It becomes routine.
Nathan goes out at the same time, he parties with these strange boys all night, and comes home in the wee hours of the morning with crazy stories to tell. A part of you starts to grow fond of these boys, but a bigger part is still consumed by the fear that he’s going to get into trouble.
But that’s stupid. He comes back every day.
Until he doesn’t.
At first, you shove your panic deep down inside of you, hoping that maybe one of his friends saw it was late and offered him a place to sleep.
But then the day flashes by and it’s nighttime and he’s still not home. Your heart is going so fast you fear you might faint and every number you call, every spell you try, falls short; you can’t find Nathan, and you start to spiral.
You don’t remember getting into the car. You don’t feel it come to life as you turn the key and you don’t recognize the road beneath you; like a robot following a track, you make your way down to the boardwalk.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Like a chicken without a head, you run up and down the boardwalk searching for Nathan. People look at you like you’re insane, brushing you off and cursing at you as you push through the droves. You run down past the rides, past restaurants and stores, to a darker part of the walk; there’s barrels of fire and motorcycles and people in leather.
It’s then you lay eyes on him, your son, your idiot son, and he’s perfectly fine.
He’s down by the end, fooling around with two blonds and a brunet you recognize from the stories. They’re laughing and goofing, just like any other kids. Nathan is fine, he’s alive and breathing— you didn’t lose him.
You sort of double over with relief, breathing heavily and holding a hand over your heart. You know people are probably staring, but you don’t care, even when a shadow moves in your peripheral.
“He looks just like you, [NAME].”
You quickly turn to face the familiar sounding stranger and lose all ability to breathe when you see him.
There’s Nathan’s friend David. Your David. Pushing himself off a pillar, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips and a long coat hugging his figure; his golden locks have been bleached, spiked up into a mullet, and his skin looks grey in the moonlight.
“He, uh, has your eyes, though.” You say, voice crackling as your eyes drink him in.
“He does.” He’s standing in front of you now, tall stature consuming your space.
The dam in your mind breaks and you can breathe again, tears burning your eyes and blurring your vision.
“Oh…” You, unable to form words, reach up and cup his face in your hands. He leans into your touch. “It’s really you...”
His gloved hand comes up to rest on one of yours and his jaw clenches, those beautiful blue eyes shutting tightly.
“How are you—?” What did you want to say? ‘Still alive?’, ‘still young?’
“I could ask you the same.” He opens his now misty eyes, blue intensely staring into [COLOR].
That’s fair. You always had the intention of telling him about your mother and somehow breaking off a piece of your immortality to give it to him, but you never really got to form a solid plan.
Was he always this defensive?
“I went back to the house.” He says, effectively changing the subject. “But by then you were gone. Both of you were.”
Guilt twists in your gut as a warm tear slips down his cold cheek. You wipe it away and drop your arms, opting to hold his hands in yours.
“I promise I waited for a few months after Nate was born, but your father all but chased me off— wouldn’t listen to me when I told him I couldn’t work yet.”
David’s lip momentarily pulls back into a scowl, a far off look in his eyes as he thinks about his father. He glances over at your son as he plays around.
“If I’d have known you were alive— that you were like this— I would’ve told Jesse to go fuck himself and waited forever.” You promise, turning his face back to you gently.
He snorts a little bit.
“Hey…”
Even if he looked so different, he was still the boy you once knew deep down inside; his shoulders deflate a bit, but he keeps that hard look in his eye.
“I missed you.” He admits very softly.
“I missed you, too.”
David’s hands hesitantly come up to hold your face in the way you held his, and his eyes flicker all over your face.
“Can I?...”
You nod and he presses his lips against yours.
The sensation of his lips on yours sends a current through every one of your nerves, awakening parts of your body and soul that you were forced to put to sleep when you left him in your past. Your heart beats rapidly against your ribs as if to say finally, finally, finally…
If you could’ve, you would’ve let yourself drown in this kiss, not minding the suffocation so long as he is the one doing it, but he’s forced to pull away when one of the boys calls his attention.
“Hey, David!” The blond with wild, untamed hair points to his wrist as if he were wearing a watch. “Time to go, man!”
David rolls his eyes a bit, albeit fondly, and turns back to you.
“Come back to the cave with us, we have a lot to discuss.”
It’s not a question, it’s a command, but you don’t mind. Your hand slips into his easily.
If he noticed any of it, Nathan says nothing. He’s already leaving with the others on the bike he begged you to buy him when David gets on his.
As you swing your leg over the other side of the vehicle and wrap your arms against his waist, you feel him stiffen.
“It’s been a long, long time, princess.”
Yes, it has been— but it never will be again.
#david the lost boys#david the lost boys x reader#david the lost boys imagine#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys imagines#the lost boys x reader#marko the lost boys#paul the lost boys#dwayne the lost boys#max the lost boys#long fic#david tlb#marko tlb#paul tlb#dwayne tlb
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curiosity
nsfw!!! kaeya x f!reader
prequel to this drabble
hand & finger kink, semi public sex except you don’t have sex with him he just makes you suck on his fingers
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The knights of Favonius weren’t a group of people you mingled with. While you had no quarrels with any of them and had even spoken to some before, they just weren’t people that you considered friends.
There was nothing you held against them, no vendetta you had. Your feelings of them were just neutral. Pleasant conversations are easy to have with the ones stationed around town, where they’re willing to help you with really anything you need.
That’s probably why you’ve never really had to interact much with them. You’ve never been in danger and so help from them wasn’t something you had to seek out.
The higher ups, though, were a different story. You’ve also not interacted with any of them, but heard of them incredibly often, seen the outrider around town.
But that was all.
You had understood they were busy with all their work and obviously didn’t expect them to come out just so they can talk to you, a random citizen - still, you were curious. With all the big talk of them they were bound to be quite an interesting few people.
Sara, who worked at The Good Hunter - a little restaurant near the center fountain in town that served amazing food - had told you about them. The interesting honorary knight that travels with a little fairy in search for his sister, the outrider that you’ve seen before, the librarian who apparently was incredibly intimidating when you don’t return books, and even Jean, the acting grand master. You’ve heard about all of them, your curiosity causing you ask around for stories.
The first time you met any of them was on a sunny day, not unlike any other. You were out on the trail, foraging mushrooms as per Sara’s request, when you ran into a suspicious looking group of hilichurls. The odd creatures were entranced by an odd looking sigil on the ground that glowed a faint purple.
You had chosen to mentally mark where you were and turn back to go to town and report it. Hilichurls close to town was already a safety hazard, but them acting the way they were felt off and made a pit of worry grow in your stomach.
The guards at the doors of the Knights of Favonios Headquarters had questioned what you needed when you ran up, and you explained the situation, requesting to speak to Jean if possible.
Guilt ate at you when you pushed despite them telling you she was busy with work already. “I really would like to speak to her directly,” you told them.
They were going to shut you down again, but from behind them the door opened and out came an infamous face.
Of the many people you’d been told about, the Cavalry Captain was among them. Kaeya was very popular in town, apparently appeared at the tavern on most nights to chat with the townspeople. There was a lot of mystery shrouding him and his backstory but despite that he was a favorite of many people.
He looked as he’s been described to you, with dark hair and tanned skin, one eye covered with a black eye patch. His bare eye, beautiful and piercing blue met yours and you looked away immediately, feeling as though you were seeing a myth in the flesh.
“Like I said,” your eyes, probably a little wide from seeing the captain, fell back to the two guards you’d been talking to. “I think it’s a good idea if I talked to Jean directly.”
You hadn’t meant to alert Kaeya as he was leaving the Knights Headquarters but he seemed to hear, voicing out an “is everything okay?” as he approached the three of you.
“I’m not trying to be any trouble,” you tell him once the situation was explained.
He watched you shrink slightly under his gaze, pretty eyes staring up at him - and shook his head. “It’s understandable to want to report something like that immediately. I can take you to her.”
Obviously he had some sort of authority over the guarding knights because they had nothing to say about that, stepping back to their spots on either side of the stone stairs leading to the building.
You mentally let out a breath and nodded up at the blue haired male, thanking him quietly and apologizing again for making a fuss.
“Come on now,” he smiled down at you, calming your nerves a bit. “Stop apologizing for trying to keep Mondstadt safe. If anything we should be apologizing to you for not catching it before you did.”
The short walk inside the Knights Headquarters was quiet, and you took the few silent moments as a chance to get a better look at Kaeya. It was weird seeing him in front of you after only hearing about him for so long.
His clothes were much different from the other knights, from the fur on the shoulder to the color of the clothing. A small blue glowing charm hung from the side of his hip - that’s right, he had a vision.
When he opened the door to Jean’s office, you caught sight of his fingers that peaked out of dark gloves. Fingerless gloves?
“Are you going to come inside?”
Oh no, you weren’t standing here gawking at his hands, were you? You blinked at him like a deer in headlights and you wanted to melt into the floor at the amusement written on his face.
You ducked your head in embarrassment, slipping passed him silently.
Your shame was short lived, however, when you stepped into the room and saw Jean. Now you knew for a fact awe was visible on your face. It’s not every day that you get to see the grand acting master herself.
She was kind and genuinely concerned about you after you ran through the scene you saw for a third time in that day. The abyss order have been causing some trouble for the knights and they had been trying to track down more about them and their plans. What you saw didn’t give away much but Jean reiterated that it was an important bit of information and she thanked you for coming to her for it.
You preened at that, glad you could be of help to her.
Before you left, she thanked you again and assured you that you didn’t need to worry, the knights would take care of it.
And that was the end of it. Nothing else regarding that situation happened and life returned to normal.
The next time you ran into one of them it was at The Good Hunter. You were chatting with Sara while waiting for your food to finish cooking when a very familiar pair on hands came to lean against the counter you ordered at, with a very familiar voice accompanying them.
“I’ve been wondering about you,” Kaeya muses.
Wondering about you? You had to take a moment to process that, forcing out a small “Why?” to which he didn’t respond.
“Eat with me,” he responds instead, smiling at you and he is nice and a knight so who are you to decline.
So, you two eat together. He’s just as charming as people have mentioned, voice smooth and easy to listen to. By your wonder, he tells you in more detail about the Knights of Favonius, and you soak up his words like a sponge.
He is able to describe specific stories that you didn’t otherwise know about, along with other people that you hadn’t heard much about.
You find it fascinating and ask more specific questions - about visions. He answers every inquiry thats thrown at him, about his own cryo power and that of others in Mondstadt.
“Does the fingerless gloves have something to do with your element?” You ask him, and he laughs lightly at you.
“You like them, huh?”
Does he remember your lingering gaze on his hands at your last meeting? God, that’s mortifying. You hadn’t meant it to be a weird question.
When you gape at him, sputtering and trying to grasp a suitable response, he reaches out and taps a finger on the underside of your chin. “Cute,” he murmurs, before taking his leave, claiming he has work he should go attend to.
You stare at him while he leaves, reeling from his actions.
Things move more quickly after that.
You don’t know who really started it, but Kaeya’s hands become somewhat of a teasing point. It wasn’t a serious attraction at first but now his hands are the first thing your gaze catches on.
In turn, he’ll tease you for it, brushing the back of his knuckles against you or tapping a fingertip on you like he did that first time.
It boiled over one day in the Knights Library, you alongside him, curiously looking at all the different titles that were offered. Kaeya reaches out to grab a book and your eyes zero in on his hands.
Bare hands.
He wasn’t wearing those gloves today, skin fully on display and that shouldn’t be as important as it is but there you are, staring at them.
“You’re not-“
He has to know. Theres no way he accidentally forgot to wear them on a day he would be with you. Another tease, definitely.
“My gloves? Didn’t think you’d notice something like that.” Oh, he knows.
Cocky as ever, he taps his finger into your bottom lip - as he has before - and your mouth parts in response. An invitation.
The taste of clean skin bursts on your tastebuds, two of his fingers sliding inside.
“Ah, I knew it,” he murmurs, moving so you were situated in the corner of the wall and bookshelf, his body shadowing yours to shield you from any possible onlookers.
Your knees buckle from under you when he presses down onto your tongue, a whimper sounding from your throat.
“Look at you,” he coos, head leaning in so his lips brush against your ear. “How was I supposed to hold myself back when you want this so bad?”
Your hands find purchase on his biceps, gripping them to ground yourself while he rubs the pads of his fingers against your tongue. Saliva pools and threatens to spill over your lip, and Kaeya knows it, fingers moving so that it drips down out of your mouth and onto your chin.
“You know,” he starts again, fingers sinking deeper into your mouth as his other spare hand wraps loosely around your waist. “If you’re so good like this I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I fuck you.”
Another noise leaves you, fingers digging into his arms. Your head knocks back into the wall right behind you and your eyes flutter.
You feel lucky that you cant speak because you know you wouldn’t be able to trust yourself to not beg him to fuck you right here in the library.
It feels filthy, the drool on your chin and his breath against the side of your face while he tells you these things. You felt hot and if your eyes were opened your pupils would be blown out.
“You’ll have to come see me some time, so I can really take you apart with my fingers.”
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For Whom the Bell Tolls
Just outside the boundaries of your town, deep within the trenches of the forest sits a massive tower made from smoke-stained ivory. Decrepit and ominous, it looms over your town like a warning- like a shadow...
There are opposing rumors as to what resides in the tower.
One of them, the one that just so happens to appeal to you the most, is that there is a deity living in that tower.
The one who knows.
The one who blesses and curses the deserving and offers wisdom that no mortal can.
And now, faced with the imminent demise of your family- you have no choice but to seek answers in the darkness.
What, in god’s name, will you find?
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: demi-god! au, demi-god! Jimin, mythology, slight angst, smut, fantasy
Word count: 8k (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PWP)
Warnings: likely inaccurate representations of greek mythology lmao, unprotected sex (wrap it up plz), mentions of violence/death, slightly spooky??? allusions to corruption and murder (non-explicit), JIMIN (cause he’s always a warning), probably a messy plot cause I went feral with this one. parts are unedited oops.
A/N: i have nothing to say. this was supposed to be demon porn and now we have a completely new au. SOMEONE PLEASE STOP ME. okay anyways,,,, i love u.
Corruption.
It ran rampant through your town like the plague, devouring everything in its path. One right after another, you have seen it swallow those who you had come to respect; good town folk, who at one time, moved through the world with a moral compass stronger than the one you felt you possessed, had now fallen ill to the disease.
And you understood...to an extent. The universe was not a benevolent dealer. It randomly assigns cards to its patrons and cares not about the outcome- or the losses. You understood that sometimes people were simply without a winning hand.
But the need to win was still present.
However, your town was spoiled with a type of greed that wafted through the streets and turned everything to mold. Neighbor betraying neighbor, partner betraying partner- even mother’s betraying their children...
All to please one man...
Lord Instinctus was the ruler of your province. Born into nobility, he took over the position after his father passed away and began turning the tides in his favor. Taxes were raised, work hours following suit and, harsh punishments were administered to anyone who dared questioned the new system. He forced your town to pledge their loyalty to him on the day he took over and sent ‘enforcers’ to hide out in the town in search of any signs of rebellion.
However, his cruelty was not unique. Too many men have followed the path paved before them and suckled at the teet of avarice, until they were compelled to out do one another.
To outkill one another...
What made Lord Instinctus unique was the fact that he had never shown his face before. During his initiation into the noble court, the townspeople were given blindfolds and told to face away from their Lord and simply listen. Few people broke the rules but, the ones who did were immediately executed.
You still remember the shudder that ran through your body as you heard the sound of your townspeople hitting the pavement. From that point on, the tone was set. Insubordination means death; the terms were simple.
The lack of knowledge and the possibility of death didn’t stop speculation from blooming. In fact, the appearance of the Lord was essentially the usual topic of conversation at every pub on the main street. After the freeing of spirits, both liquid or otherwise, the rumors begin pouring into the atmosphere.
“He’s probably horribly deformed...”
“Inbreeding is common amongst the nobility; it would make sense...”
“My cousin walked by the villa the other day, he said Lord Invictus had a tail!”
“A tail you say?! So is he some sort of hybrid?!”
“Oh please, that’s preposterous- he's probably just hideous...”
You bite your bottom lip, as you wipe the whiskey from the chestnut countertop, resisting the urge to smirk. Bartending was certainly not a glamorous job but, it paid your taxes and helped put food on the table for you and your family.
Glamorous it was not but, amusing it definitely was.
“I bet you he still beds a new woman every night though...”
“A pretty face ain’t worth more than all that gold he has aye?”
“Maybe he’s cursed...”
“That wouldn’t surprise me either- I hear noble families make deals with the magic folk all the time.”
“If you all want to know so bad, why don’t you just pay the tower a visit?”
With that meager suggestion, the bustle of the pub comes to halt- all eyes now on the man who mentioned a topic that is normally banned from public spaces.
“What? You can’t tell me you haven’t wondered what was up there...”
“We know what’s up there-”
“Or rather- who's up there.”
Just outside the boundaries of your town, deep within the trenches of the forest sits a massive tower made from smoke-stained ivory. Decrepit and ominous, it looms over your town like a warning- like a shadow...
It’s said to be the home a monster.
The tower was used as a prison for the most dastardly of criminals. For years, just before the establishment of your town, it served as a last resort for the rotten underbelly of society. Countless lives were taken, madness ensued- until the revolution came. The tower was set aflame by revolutionaries but for whatever reason, it did not crumble.
The ivory merely sizzled and turned gray and then over time, it turned black. For years it was abandoned until one day, just after sunset, light emanated from the tower once more. Onlookers who were near the building went inside to see if some vagrant had moved in.
And they never returned...
Several spiritual advisors have visited the town, including religious figures from various faiths, and they have all arrived at the same conclusion: a demon has taken residence in the tower. Despite the efforts to bless the building, the light comes on every evening.
Thus, it is assumed that the demon remains unharmed.
“What about Mrs. Jeon? She left offerings for the beast and her son was cured of the plague the next morning.”
“Or Mr. Kim- he left one as well and found gold in his backyard that very night...”
“You aren’t suggesting there is a benevolent being in that tower, are you? Should I remind you of how many disappearances have occurred?”
There are opposing rumors you suppose.
One of them, the one that just so happens to appeal to you the most, is that there is a deity living in that tower.
The one who knows.
The one who blesses and curses the deserving and offers wisdom that no mortal can.
“Hey here’s a thought- how about Jacob tests his theory eh? Why don’t you go down and find out yourself? Report back to us with your findings...”
The pub erupts with laughter now, the uneasiness slowly melting away from the room.
You elect to keep your thoughts to yourself, as you finish up counting the money you had made from that evening- making sure to leave a portion for the incoming team.
The bite of the winter wind is harsh and untamed as it scraps across your skin, causing you to hurriedly put your coat on. It feels like winter never ends in your town and if it weren’t for the fact that your family stocks up throughout the year, you would be worried where your next meal is coming from.
Walking down the street towards your home, you catch sight of the tower in the distance. The way the windows begin to glow, almost makes you feel like it’s somehow staring back at you- taunting you.
You would be lying if you said it didn’t tempt you.
It always has.
Even as a young girl, you remember being drawn to the infamy, to the danger...
Your mother always told you that being curious was a good thing, that it led the greatest minds of humankind. You kept that with you as you moved through life, trying your best to understand what your purpose was.
But times were hard...
With a malevolent lord hanging over the morale of your town, digging his fingers into the heart and soul of your people and crippling them with eternal debt, it was causing you to look for answers.
And you were beginning to look in some unorthodox places.
Dinner with your family soothes the aching curiosity in your chest as you try and remind yourself of all the things you have to be grateful for. After your meal, you wrestle your little brother into his bed before telling him his favorite bedtime story. Once his eyelids have kissed, you turn out his light and move into the main room to wish sweet dreams upon your parents.
And although the pleasantries are nice, there are a few things throughout the evening that disturbed you.
The limp in your father’s movement.
The blisters on your mother’s hands.
The bags beneath the otherwise unburden gaze of your little brother.
Exhaustion was palpable.
Living beneath the weight of a corrupt leadership will do that to you.
As your head hits the pillow, you can hear your mother murmur in desperation.
“I won’t have enough to pay him this week...what are we going to do?”
“I can work extra hours at the mill- we will figure it out.”
“How could you possibly work any longer-”
You feel your chest twist with guilt as you hear the crack in your mother's voice.
“You’re falling apart my love...if you continue pushing yourself this way, I’m afraid I will lose you and I can’t- I can’t-”
The muffled nature of her cries suggests that your father has pulled her in for a hug, trying to erase the inevitable with his affection.
“We will endure, I promise. Just hang on a little longer.”
With your father’s final words, their conversation begins to die down.
This can’t possibly go on much longer. You might be able to pick up more hours at the pub and, perhaps procure a second job but, the dues will never end.
Your family will never exist for any other reason aside from paying to the noble family.
So you make a decision. Hard work clearly isn’t the answer and revolution would only shed innocent blood. If the practical world had nothing else to offer then, you would seek answers from beyond.
Your parents retired to their rooms shortly after their conversation but, you wait until you’re sure the house has fallen silent before you make your next move. Embarking on this mission would be simple but what lies at your destination is anything but; so, you try to be prepared for the possible outcomes.
Wrapping yourself in the thickest coat you can find, you slip your dagger beneath the onyx material and slowly creep out of your bedroom.
The streets were still bustling with life; your town rarely ever rests and the pubs and shops are open well past midnight.
It might sound like the product of a vibrant town but, it’s mainly due to the ever-present demand for profit.
Limited hours mean limited sales.
Thankfully, no one really notices your presence as you traverse your way down the streets and through the alleyway. The noise echoing from the main street slowly diminishes and makes way for the sound of the wind dancing through the trees. The forest itself does not frighten you. You grew up memorizing it with your father as he taught you the fundamentals or foraging and gardening. The sound of the owls is expected as is the chill that runs up your spine with the increase of the breeze.
However, as you near the tower- fear begins to slither its way into your veins. It’s quite a sickening feeling as it seems to stop you in your tracks but, you push on anyway- determined to finish what you have started.
The wrought iron surrounding the tower is stained with rust, corroded and crackling with age, the creaking of its bars alarms you, stopping you in your tracks and forcing you to look up.
And there it is: the tower.
It stands above you like a menacing giant and although it’s presence should deter you, it doesn’t. Making an effort to be as silent as you can, you slip past the opening in the gate and begin walking up the broken cobblestone pathway.
There is nothing but dirt surrounding the perimeter of the tower and other than the moon, the only light before you is coming from the very top window. It’s glowing but the color isn’t stable- it's as if it were shifting slowly from red to green to blue and then back again. Faced with the wooden French doors, you question the idea of knocking.
If someone truly did live here, it would only be polite...right?
With a shaky hand, you knock three times as loudly as you can. For a moment there is nothing, but just as you ready your hand to knock again, the door groans and begins to slowly creak open.
The already unstable heartbeat in your chest begins to rattle without mercy as you brace yourself for whatever horrible creature might lay on the other side. Instead, however, there is no one.
The door opens entirely to reveal that instead of the simple but filthy interior you expect from an abandoned tower such as this one, there is a rather decadent home. Large marble pillars extend upwards seemingly holding nothing in place while glamorous furniture positions itself through the foray. Everything is cooled tone with greys and shades of blue, black often lining the borders of the funiture. There is no lantern, the moon lighting up the interior of the room just as it led your path up to the door.
The layout doesn’t make sense.
The tower is cylindrical and doesn’t offer enough space for such an open floor plan so, how is it that the inside looks like lavish mansion?
You swallow your fear and newfound confusion as you tentatively look around the expanse of the room.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
You take a deep breath and decide that the likelihood of someone (or something) answering that call is slim, especially given the way you were welcomed into the tower in the first place.
You place your hand inside your pocket, gripping the dagger for good measure before beginning to make your way towards the staircase. The moonlight is sufficient enough at first but for whatever reason, as you begin making your way up the stone staircase, the interior of the tower seems to slowly darken. Your grip on the dagger tightens as you stop walking, frozen in your steps, cursing yourself for embarking on a journey so reckless.
Suddenly, all of the light from the room vanishes, forcing a gasp from your throat. You manage to grip the railing to steady yourself but you have no idea what you are to do next.
And then, someone speaks.
“Well- you’re awfully far from home...aren’t you?”
The sound of the voice rushes through your senses much like the wind did. It’s too sweet for your liking but, it entrances you none the less.
“Who are you?”
As much as you try to steady your breathing, the way your voice cracks, gives you away instantly.
Laughter bounces off the stone walls, sinister and playful all at once before the voice speaks again,
“Don’t you think that’s a question I should be asking you? You are the intruder after all...”
Disembodied or not, the voice makes a valid point. You did walk in unannounced and you most certainly weren’t invited.
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” The strength in your voice comes back slightly as you grip the railing a bit tighter, “I came here because- “
“I know why you’re here...” The voice is much closer now, likely positioned at the top of the stairs, “Humans are so predictable; always looking for a handout.”
This offends you greatly and regardless of the amount of danger you might be in, you let the voice know anyway.
“I am not looking for a hand out. My family and I work from sunrise until sunset to make ends meet. I’m here to make an offering- not merely to take whatever miracles that you make.” Stronger and stronger, your voice rises to the occasion, preparing itself to either spar with the beast or scream for help.
“Miracles hm?” Sinister laughter slinks down the staircase, practically teasing the exposed skin of your neck, “Is that what you think I do?”
You swallow the bile that creeps up your throat, “I’ve heard many stories- but I wanted to see for myself. Some of my people claim you’ve blessed them but, the clergy said a demon lived here...”
“Oh?” It rises with inquisition, “And you came anyway? Do I have a heretic in my presence?”
Shaking your head does nothing in the darkness but it’s instinctual, “I don’t believe in demons- at least, not the kind who dwell in abandoned towers.”
“Is there a kind you do believe in then?”
There is something in you that urges you forward, captivated by the sweet sound of the voice above you, desperate to view the owner and desperate to see the moonlight again.
“Hell is nothing but a metaphor and it’s demons all the same. There is plenty of evil here, plenty of suffering- by definition, there is a demon ruling over my town- he is draining us of our resources for his own gain. I couldn’t imagine a more accurate representation.”
Suddenly, you hear the sound of boots clicking slowly and steadily down the stone stairs. You brace yourself, still feeling frozen in your place- wishing to see whoever or whatever is front of you.
“If I did make miracles,” It muses and, now you’re able to discern that it’s only a few steps in front of you, “What exactly would you be offering me in return?”
Taking a deep breath through your nose, you place all your effort into trying to make out whether or not there was an actual owner to this voice. Finally, your eyes adjust enough to see the faint shadow of a figure which appears to be sitting on the second set of stairs.
“Name your terms, I will do my best.”
“Ah ah-” The voice corrects along with a side of twinkling laughter, “That isn’t how this works...”
You’re growing frustrated with the apparent mind games but, you know it’s in your best interest to be patient; you still don’t know what you’re dealing with.
“How does it work then?”
Silence passes through the air for a moment before the voice speaks again, “You must bring me the thing you treasure the most so, that I may know your true intentions- I cannot help you until I can see you properly.”
You snort, “You’d be able to see me if you hadn’t wiped the light from this room...”
Laughter comes again but this time, it’s lower and deepened with suggestion, “I’m not referring to physical sight, human. You might not be able to see in the dark but, I can.”
For whatever reason, its response sounds salacious and riddled with an innuendo that you’re slightly afraid to comment on.
And the reaction it creates within you, only frightens you further.
“I’ve just told you that I barely have enough money to scrape by- I don’t have anything of value to give you.”
“I never asked you to bring me anything of value nor did I ask you to give it away- you’re not listening very well...I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you if you can’t follow instructions.”
It sounds irritated and fond all at once, prompting you to nod immediately, not wanting to upset your only shot at freedom.
“I’m sorry.” You breathe, “I’m just-”
“Don’t lie to me...”
Your gaze strains to try and make out the expression of the figure in front of you but, its futile- the darkness impeding your effort.
“What do you mean?”
“You were going to tell me that you’re scared.” The voice accuses, “But you’re not- even though, you most certainly should be.”
It wasn’t wrong. You should have ran when the door opened on its own, when the lights began to dim, when a voice began speaking to you...
But you didn’t.
You were undeniably intrigued.
“Are you going to hurt me?”
An insidious bought of laughter comes from the figure before it sighs, “Hmmm, maybe a little bit.”
When your lips part with something that resembles shock, the laughter comes again only slowing to a halt for the sound of the figure’s tongue tutting against its teeth.
“You are a curious girl...” It observes, “...promises of harm should not excite you and yet- excitement flows from you anyway. Why?”
It kills you to refrain from denying it but, you have no choice.
“Your voice-” A sigh leaves your lips, “it’s very intriguing.”
Maybe it’s part of the creature's abilities, you think, its voice is the main weapon to lure unsuspecting and vulnerable humans into its clutches. The only question is- what happens once it has you.
“Is it now?” The voice sounds intrigued, “Most humans don’t seem to think so. Are you sure you’re hearing me right, girl? I’ve been told my voice is the thing of nightmares.”
This perplexes you; how could anyone possibly think such a voice was frightening? Despite this creature being anything but human, it sounds very much like a man- a warm and mischievous man who seems hellbent on getting you into bed.
“What does my voice sound like to you?” It asks, a smile in its tone.
You ponder this question for a second, realizing very quickly that you can’t exactly tell this creature that it sounds like it’s trying to seduce you. But still, that does seem to be the only appropriate description.
“Sort of...like a melody.”
Laughter comes again but, this time it’s paired with the moonlight slowly fading back into the tower, covering every surface until it finally reveals the appearance of the figure.
Beautiful.
Not an it but a he...
A man with wings.
On the steps before you, he stands, leaning casually against the railing now. Atop his head is a tousled mop of sapphire hair, just below are his eyes- nearly black and hooded with the same seduction as his voice and cloaking his figure is a black linen ensemble fitted only by the same color corset. His pillowy lips and soft skin would be a masterpiece on their own but coupled with the giant pair of onyx wings protruding proudly from his back- his visuals become simply devastating.
“What do you see?” He smirks, licking over his lips.
Unable to resist, you shake your head in complete awe, all of the sensible words dying before they leave your throat, “You- are you an angel?”
The light allows you to see him now as his head tilts another round of laughter, “Try again...you’re very close.”
Perhaps the clergy was right...
“A demon then...” You resign because despite your previously-held beliefs, if this really was a demon, then you know very well you shouldn’t be dealing with him. “I should go.”
His smirk broadens, “But I thought you didn’t believe in demons?”
“I didn’t but, that’s clearly what you’re alluding to. If a winged man tells me he’s a demon, I think it’s wise that I return home.”
Through your moment of clarity, your desire for him persists- especially now that you see what he looks like. But you know better than to make a deal with a demon, even if you are desperate.
“Do you think the universe is that simple? Angels and demons? Good and evil? You don’t think that maybe- in all of his vastness, there is a chance for the inbetweeners?” He presses and now his black eyes seem to glow, his gaze slightly hypnotic.
Tightening your coat around your body, you stay staring at him for a moment before you respond, “Is that what you are? Something in between?”
He licks his lips, his eyes finally allowing themselves to wander over your figure. There isn’t much of you showing but, he still drinks you up regardless, exposing and exciting you all at once.
“I was sent by the underworld to do business for the gods...” He drops his voice to a near whisper, his gaze burning a hole in you, which now aches to be filled.
You take in a shaky breath through your nose, nodding in understanding, “Did you kill the people who disappeared here? Is that what happens when their judgment goes south?”
He arches his brow, tilting his head with his inquiry- his voice dripping with darkness, “Maybe I did...maybe I didn’t. I don’t see how that’s relevant- especially since you’ve already decided you were leaving. Which of course-” He waves his hand then, the wooden door behind you creaking open, “-you are free to do.”
There is something about him you haven’t touched on but, it’s beginning to eat you up inside. He may be an otherworldly being, possessing the tower like a beautiful virus but, he is starting to look familiar. This of course, is hard to imagine because his beauty is so striking that you don’t see how you could ever forget it. But nonetheless, you feel like you’ve seen him before.
And this is what has kept you frozen.
“Will you not give me any answers?” You border on pleading but, attempt to keep your tone firm.
He chuckles, “You didn’t come to me for answers. You came for help- which I’ve already agreed to give you.”
The supernatural discourse that has transpired, thoroughly distracted you from the reasons for seeking him out in the first place. Your situation had not changed; you were still desperate for money, desperate for justice and desperate for peace.
“You won’t hurt my family...” It’s not a question, and it leaves no room for any other response aside from the one he gives you.
“I won’t.”
Nodding, you glance behind your shoulder towards the door, “I have to go home. I don’t have the item you asked for. I can be back within the hour...”
For the first time, he looks slightly disappointed but as you complete your sentence, he shakes his head, “No. Don't come back tonight.” He insists, “If you wish to do business with me- you must return tomorrow after midnight. I will wait for you at the shoreline.”
This confuses you, “The shoreline? Why can’t we meet here? The water is dangerous after dark.”
The smirk returns to his tender lips, “I know.”
With that, he waves his hand again- causing the door to swing open and slam against the tower walls.
Jumping at the sound, your gaze shoots back behind you before returning to where the creature stood.
But he had vanished.
You have no choice but to heed his requests and rush away from the tower, the curiosity inside you almost too much to bear.
Nothing is out of the ordinary as you walk back home, at least not at first. But when you pass the massive clock tower in the center of town, you realize something strange...
The clock hadn’t moved, not even a second.
You remember very clearly reading the time as you hurried past it on your way to the tower and now, even as you’re staring at it, it stands perfectly still. Until suddenly, without warning, the hands of time begin to move again. The clicking almost startles you, your brain filling with a million questions despite your decision to turn away and return home.
Time had seemingly stood still whilst you were in the tower.
Slipping beneath the covers, you try your hardest to get to sleep despite being bombarded with images of the haunting man you had just encountered.
You know you should be terrified.
You know you should be wary.
But the familiarity of him has possessed you and, you’re determined to understand why.
The next night, with your treasured object tucked securely in your coat, you make your way back to him.
You make sure to check the clock tower before you do, logging the time away for later to see if last night had been more than just a fluke.
12:32am.
The clock tower has never lied but, you’re starting to think it might be influenced by whatever resided in the tower- magic, beast, or otherwise.
As you pass through the many trees, you begin to hear the chaotic crashing of the waves in the distance. The tower may be frightening but, few things could match the malevolent temper of the sea. In fact, you’ve always believed that nothing could. The sea was unrivaled in her cruelty, consuming the world at will, just for the fun of it- you've theorized that she likes the screams. During the day, she simmered- blue and serene, allowing boats to decorate her surface like candles on a birthday cake. At night though, her temper worsens and it’s as if she suddenly remembers all the injustice she has faced. Her waves swell to horrific heights, smashing into the seawalls built around your town, creeping over like a titan looking for vengeance.
You’ve always felt pity for her. It must be hard: being the heart and soul of humanity, being responsible for the very nature of things- only to be forgotten. Only to be mistreated...
Your boots are discarded near the last patch of grass before the sand and, your toes brace themselves icy chill of the sea breeze. You’re especially thankful for the coat now as you suspect that your teeth would have already begun chattering had it not been for the thick fabric protecting you.
The waves haven’t begun their violent dance just yet but, you can sense their temper beneath your feet. They will begin soon.
“The sea-” The voice from the tower is behind you, “it suits you.”
Breathless, you turn to face him and even though you’re more prepared for his beauty than you were last night, it still shocks you.
He’s wearing a black silk gown, that drapes effortlessly off his body, the sleeves made out of French lace and extending well past his fingertips. His wings are shuttered behind him, folded almost modestly against his back.
“Thank you.” It’s the only response you have before you reach into the fold of your coat, “I have the-”
He holds up his hand, his voice commanding but gentle, “Wait. I want you to walk with me first. I don’t like rushing through my business deals.”
Your hand slowly retreats from your coat as you warily look behind you, “You want to walk along the shoreline? I told you, it’s too dangerous- at least for me it is, I don’t exactly have an escape mechanism attached to my back.”
He smirks, his tempting gaze flourishing with fondness you cannot place, “What causes you to mistrust the sea so much? Surely she wouldn’t hurt one of her own...”
Your brow furrows, “What do you mean?”
Extending from the confines of silk, his fingers reach out to you, fluttering with invitation, “I will show you.”
And really, you’d be a fool not to accept.
Interlacing your fingers with his, you feel electricity simmer ever so slightly beneath your skin. You’re assuming it’s from the power that likely resides within him but, you don’t expect it to affect you so much.
The sound of the waves begins to softly roar in the distance but the water isn’t close enough to the shoreline to pose any immediate threat.
Not yet at least...
You begin walking alongside him as he leads you both in the opposite direction of your town border. For quite a few moments, he just gazes at the eternal stretch of sand before you, his soft mouth curved up ever so slightly. He looks pensive and serene all at once and, it confuses you.
“May I tell you a story?”
His request surprises you but, you aren’t really in a position to say no. And if you’re being honest, you really didn’t want to.
“Yes.” You murmur, feeling compelled to keep your volume at a minimum.
He smiles softly to himself, glancing towards the water briefly before beginning.
“The water has many gods...” He speaks softly, letting out a sigh, “Lir, Irish god of the sea, Tefnut, Egyptian goddess of the rain, Amimitl, Aztec god of lakes and fisherman...” His explanation already has you interested. You were taught much of the stories beyond your land but, it had always fascinated you, “The gods of the sea are known for the temperate nature, they often stay away from humans and avoid interfering with the mortal coil. Death by water is merely a request they carry out for the gods of death and destruction and thus, there is goddess who rules over the violence of the sea itself.”
Just as he finishes his sentence, the temper of the sea seems to roar to life, the swollen waves crashing aggressively, still not close enough to reach you.
Not yet at least...
“Cymopoleia, is the goddess of violent sea storms. Poseidon, her father, tasked her with overseeing the malignant waters and tending to the causalities. She was not the creator of the storms but she carried the ability.” He moves through the story as if he has told it a 100 times but he seems captivated by it nonetheless, “When it came time for her to bear a child. She conjured up a spirit from within her very core. She crafted them out of the essence of the sea and placed them inside of clamshell in her palace. She was awaiting the full moon when someone snuck into the depths of the ocean and stole them from her.”
The gasp that leaves your lips cannot be helped, you didn’t realize how engrossed you were until suddenly you recognize the port from another town nearby.
You had been walking awhile.
“Why would someone do that?” You press, shaking your head.
He sends a solemn look your way, “Many thoughtless humans believe that if they capture the essence of a god, they will become one themselves. Foolishly, he opened the clam shell and released the spirit into the world. By the time the goddess found him, it was too late- but she delegated his fate anyway. She took his life beneath the depths of a violent storm and placed a curse upon anyone who shared his bloodline. She made it so that any one of his descendants would bear the physical embodiment of his fate.”
“So, they look like they’ve died at sea?”
He can’t help but smirk, a bit of the darkness you saw at the tower, beginning to creep back. “Indeed. They are horribly disfigured and regardless of their efforts, they all meet the same fate. His lineage believes that if they send enough offerings out to sea or if they build high enough walls, that they will somehow escape their deaths. But of course, this if futile- the goddess vowed that she would continue to collect them until her spirit was returned.”
His story ends and it’s like something clicks within you. Without warning, you squeeze his hand, slowing both of you to a stop, just before the light of the upcoming pier hits you.
“Does this have something to do with my town? Is that why you’re telling me this?”
Lord Invictus certainly fit the description for a descendent of this thief and, although it bores no sense of logic- you have no choice but to believe it anyway.
It all fits together too well...
He turns towards you now, his smirk now a small smile, “It has to do with you Y/N.”
Your brow furrows, “Me? What do you mean?”
He nods to your coat, something otherworldly lingering in his eyes, “I’d like to see what you’ve brought with you now.”
Still riddled with confusion, you reach inside your coat and find that the item you had brought with you (a beaded necklace gifted to you at birth by your parents) had turned into something else.
And now, sitting in the palm of your hand- was a clamshell.
“What is this? This isn’t what I brought to you- I-” You begin to panic, confusion and fear starting to take over, “Did you do this? Did you take my necklace?”
Finally, the sinister smirk returns as his wings begin to unfurl from behind his back. Along with his shift in expression, another danger is brewing very close to you- you can feel it.
The sea is growing irritated and whipping the wind and the water up into a frenzy. As you look toward the water, you have no choice but to look on in horror as you see the beginning of something deadly.
A rogue wave.
The grip on your hand tightens as his extraordinary strength keeps you in place.
“I think it’s time I formally introduce myself-” His voice is loaded with bad intentions but it sounds sweet anyway as he burns his gaze into yours, “My name is Jimin. Son of Tartarus, the god of punishment and Nyx, the goddess of the night.”
Your eyes are wide with desperation, not fully registering what he said before he’s yanking you against his chest and turning you to face the sea. Standing behind you, he unleashes a spell of wicked laughter as his wings unfurl from behind is back to wrap around the both of you, so that the only thing you’re able to see is the wall of water coming for you.
“I have to come to send you home Y/N...your mother has been waiting for you a very long time.”
His arms are wrapped around you now, crushing you against his chest as his wings begin flapping- the wind picking up furiously around you.
“Jimin!” You scream, eyes welling up with tears, “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me! You promised! Why are you doing this to me?!”
He laughs at you, and it isn’t necessarily malevolent but merely amused, as if he in on a joke you weren’t part of.
“Shhhh, quiet down my little sea nymph...” He whispers salaciously into your ear, “...your fate will be painless.”
You’re crying now, digging your nails into his skin, attempting to break free as the massive creature that is the ocean rushes towards you without mercy. The crest of the wave arches above you proudly, the swirling darkness of the water mocking the mere audacity of your existence but, as you brace for impact- it never comes.
Only the darkness does...
And it’s the darkness that consumes you.
“Jimin!” A voice breaks into your subconscious, luring you out of what you hope was a nightmare, “You couldn’t have brought her home without scaring her? She was practically driftwood when she arrived here.”
That familiar twinkle of laughter sounds then and, it forces your eyes open.
“I’m sorry your grace- it's just in my nature.” He defends poorly, still chuckling to himself, “I can’t imagine my brothers are doing much better.”
You are somewhere extraordinary, that much is certain. Above your immediate line of sight is an ornate glass ceiling that seems to glow a cerulean blue. All around you are gold furnishings, each decorated with various moldings of sea creatures.
“She’s awake!”
Your vision, still slightly cloudy, now lands upon a being so beautiful- that you have to blink a few times to ensure you’re seeing the right thing. Draped in blue silk and decorated with gold and pearls, is a woman who looks at you with nothing but love in her eyes.
“Oh my- its really you...”
She seems tentative but, you’re suddenly overcome with joy- filled with an almost cosmic sense of peace.
“Mother!” You cry, rushing off of the bed you were laying on and into her arms.
She takes you in her arms immediately, her skin cool against yours like the tepid waters of the bay. She sniffles, tightening her grip on you,
“I knew you’d come home...I knew one day I would find you.”
And it really doesn’t make much sense does it?
How could your life swing so violently from one direction to the next?
Your life on earth seems so insignificant now...now that you’re back with her.
Cymopoleia- queen of violent sea storms and, your mother.
She explains it all to you, gently stroking your hair and fawning over you.
The spirit in the depths was you. Born into a human body, you were fated to one day meet with the demi-god of darkness, who with a bit of trickery- would return you to your rightful place in the cosmos.
Your mother assures you that your mortal family would be relieved of your memory until it was safe for you to visit them, until the gods of fate decide. In addition, Lord Invictus would be the last of the bloodline to pay for what his ancestor had done and, the fog of greed and corruption- which begin the day you were born, would soon be lifted.
The explanation is long and doesn’t leave you completely fulfilled but, your mother assures you that you have all the time in the world to understand the complexity of the universe.
Hours later, after you’ve had a decent feast, your mother instructs Jimin to escort you to your bedroom.
As he leads you down the hallway towards your chambers, you send a playful glare his way, “So- how much of what you told me was a lie?”
He merely smirks, “None of it.”
You scoff, “Even the part of about your voice? And all that nonsense about excitement and me being curious? You knew all along what was to happen- you just tricked me.”
Jimin chuckles darkly, stopping just outside your bedroom door before turning to you, “The part about my voice frightening people wasn’t a lie, Y/N. My father is the god of punishment, any mortal that hears my voice usually cowers in fear...”
“Is that why I felt so drawn to you? Because you were meant to take me home?”
His smirk broadens, “No...you feel drawn me because you want to fuck me.”
Your mouth goes completely dry at his bold statement but, you are unable to deny it- your fingers suddenly twitching at your side.
“Wh-”
“It’s not your fault really...” He murmurs, his body shifting towards you, “...it’s just the way I was made. I am used to people lusting after me- however,” Jimin reaches out then, to brush his thumb over the swell of your cheek, “-I have never known true lust until I had the pleasure of meeting you.”
“You lust for me?” You whisper, completely drawn up with desire- finally allowing your true nature, the nature of a demi-goddess pour out of your soul.
He licks his lips, his gaze upon you timid as he presses his thumb into your face, “I do.”
You turn to the side suddenly, capturing his thumb between your lips, “Show me.”
It's all it takes: that one phrase of consent being enough to unleash all the urges within him.
You’re inside your chamber seconds later, Jimin clawing at the fabric of your robe, his fingers digging into your skin as he does, his lips latching on to every part of you he can reach.
“I knew the moment you walked into my tower-” He grunts, “I knew- there was no way a mortal could be tempting, so dreadfully seductive.”
You sigh hopelessly, raking your hands through the sapphire tendrils on his head, your lips ghosting along the swell of his cheek, the tail of his brow, the shell of his ear...
“In the underworld...” He’s practically growling now, scratching his nails up the newly exposed skin of your back, “We are never taught to refuse our desires. You were my greatest challenge- it took everything in me not to devour you right there.”
You smirk now, positioning your lips at his ear, “I wouldn’t have known what to do with you though- aren't you glad you were patient?”
He grunts again, pressing his hips against yours defiantly, “Patience is for virtuous gods- “ He doesn't answer your question but, you know that he means yes. In spite of his darker nature, Jimin still believes in doing the right thing.... most of the time.
He has you on the bed moments later, his wings spreading proudly. He’s panting, his eyes completely black with lust as he nudges your legs open, determined to finally taste what he’s been craving.
For the demi-god of darkness, denying his desires for even a second is painful. He aches to fufill them over and over again...
You were certainly no exception.
But you want to keep teasing him...
Reaching down, you spread yourself open for him- feeling the visceral substance of your arousal sticking to your inner thighs.
“What are you waiting for then?” You lean up, grasping your hand behind his neck and staring directly into the abyss that is his gaze, “Defile me...”
Jimin growls, sliding into you instantly, his hands quickly bracing themselves on either side of your head. He smirks as your eyes roll back the sheer pleasure of him inside of you causing your nipples to harden.
“Oh look at that-” He chuckles, his own expression unstable with pleasure, “Are you going brain dead already hm? Is this cock that good?”
Your eyes come back into play as you stare up at him, your hands gripping either side of his face as he starts a power rhythm within you.
This wasn’t meant to last long, the carnal desire too much for either one of you to handle...
Perhaps, if your feelings permitted it- you'd make love another time.
Nodding, you moan as he increases the rhythm, pressing your forehead against his own.
“You feel so good.” You whisper, “I didn’t know it could- oh...” A whimper leaves your lips as he hits that spot inside of you, the pleasure completely ruining your ability to speak.
“Of course you didn’t- you’ve only ever let mortals play with your pretty cunt haven’t you?” He laughs, mocking you and cooing all at once, “And now that I’ve gotten ahold of it, you’re never going to want anyone else. I will ruin you ugh-” He finally breaks, his own brow furrowed with the onslaught of his release as you tighten around him, “-ugh fuck yes. I can feel how badly your cunt wants me- it's like you’re begging me to cum.”
“I want you to cum,” You whisper shakily, kissing at his mouth, “Fill me up please, I need it.”
He growls, kissing you back with just as much fervor, his hips moving so fast that the pleasure fucks with your vision.
“I’m going to make a mess of you, they will smell me on you until I can come back-” He promises, smirking ever so slightly, “and then- I'll paint the inside of you all over again won’t I? Such a masterpiece this cunt will be...and you’ll be all mine, cumming only for me.”
And he wasn’t wrong because, mere seconds later- the two of you are cumming all over one another, ruining the silk sheets with your release and clawing desperately at one another.
With the mutual utterance of your names, Jimin collapses beside you and, moments later- when you get your wits about you, he is ushering you onto his chest.
Sweaty, exhausted and satisfied, you lay together in silence for quite a while.
Until finally you speak, “I’m not quite sure what came over me.”
Jimin chuckles but this time, the sound is much warmer than you’re used to, “Immortal lust, it’s a blessing and a curse but, eternal life has to stay interesting somehow.”
You trace patterns on his chest whilst he covers your body with one of his wings, the feathers teasing at your sensitive skin.
“Did you mean it?”
And he doesn’t even bother asking, he knows exactly what you’re referring to.
“I want you.” He affirms, “If you’ll have me- I felt quite possessive of you then but, I won’t insist on anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
You smile, tracing a heart directly over the spot where his heart would beat, “It fits doesn’t it? You and I?”
If the past few days have taught you anything, it is that sometimes- it is appropriate to succumb to fate. Sometimes, believing in the simplicity of destiny works out. Being with Jimin felt right and, for now, this was enough.
“It does.” His statement is simple but his expression says it all: he is elated.
You fall back into comfortable silence once again before one more pressing question leaves your lips, “Did I hear you mention something about your brothers earlier?”
Jimin nods, his eyes half-closed as he cuddles closer to you, “You did. I have six of them.”
“Are they- like you?” You murmur, unable to stop your curiosity.
He nods again, “They are.”
You think one more question will suffice but, his answer will unfortunately bring about a thousand more, “Are they all on missions too?”
Jimin’s trademark smirk shows itself once again as he snickers, “They are-” He repeats before a great sense of pride comes over his expression...
“I was just the first one to return.”
A/N: should this be a series? asking for a friend...
#ficswithluv#bangtansorciere#jimin#park jimin#bts#bts jimin#jimin smut#jimin x reader#bts smut#bts writing#jimin writing#jimin fanfic#bts au
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Our Goddess In Love and War
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Yandere! Royal! Pillarmen x Reader
Summary: Reader-Darling is a girl that lives in a village close to the kingdom ruled by the three kings: Esidisi, Whamuu and Kars. She doesn’t see what everyone else sees in them, and keeps away, but one day, she’ll catch their eyes, and they won’t ever leave her.
Warnings: smut later on in this chapter, yandere behavior, obsession, possessiveness, death, mentions of torture, jealously, Kars puts his foot down with disrespectful maids, reader-chan tries to leave because of threats.
A/n: I apologize for how long this took, But i’m glad to be back writing my big series! I hope you guys enjoy this long awaited chapter update!
(Unrelated but i was listening to Montero by Lil Nas X while writing this, and It was giving me Mad Kars vibes lol but I’m gonna put my playlist for this story at the bottom)
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I sighed and plopped down onto my comfy bed and slipped out of the dress and heels, I didn’t care about my hair, I’d just get up and wash in the morning. I snuggled into my pillow, at first I didn’t want to do any of this, but now I can’t help but feel some type of attraction to the male. I mean he’s going to officially be my husband in a few days, but I still couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong..
….And something bad was gonna happen….
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(First Pov)
I was nervous.
I was dressed in a wonderful purple dress, a slit along the side, matching golden heels on my feet. Several maids were running around my room, preparing everything for me. My hair was styled and had many pieces of golden jewelry dangling off my body, I smiled at myself in the mirror.
“I can’t believe this is happening…”
A few giggles were heard around me, one maid with blonde hair and baby blue eyes smiled at me. Her name is Liza, she was the maid in charge of making sure that I was perfect for events like this. She was the only other person in charge of my dress besides Stella. Liza speaks up as she places the finishing touches on me,
“Oh Believe it My Queen, We can tell how much his majesty loves you, so we are happy!” She says, giving me a twirl as the other maids clapped. I nod smiling along with the women before a rapid knock was heard at the door. All of us turned towards the door and let out a sigh as it was only Stella at the door. Stella gives a sheepish smile as she walks in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but his majesty is asking for his Queen.” She says. Liza and the other maids nod, picking up the end of my dress, I began walking out the door with the girls following close behind me.
As we walked down the hallways, they were decorated with (f/c) flowers, gold and various other precious metals aligned the hall we walked down. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the people outside, nervousness creeping right back up on me. I took a deep breath as two guards opened the door revealing me to the outside world.
Many cheers were heard, so many people were screaming and yelling. I winced at the bright light, a deep chuckle came from behind me, arms wrapping around my waist. I tensed up a bit, only earning a laugh. “My love there is no need to be afraid, it is just me..”
I sigh and relax a bit, Kars felt strangely warm and comfortable, i felt his hands move down to my hips as he moves us both forward.
We stood on top of the stairs, both of us waving to the crowd, I giggle at some of the kids that I met in the village yelling to me and holding up signs that said. ‘We are best friends with the Queen’. Kars stepped away from me slightly, and I let out a soft whine before I knew it, I blushed, quite embarrassed but Kars just chuckled again.
“Save your whines for tonight my love, Because I’ll have you saying and thinking nothing but my name.” He whispered in my ear before stepping away to get the crown.
My face went completely red as I tried to regain my composure, I walked down the stairs to greet some of the townspeople. Smiling as a group of kids handed me a pretty bouquet of flowers, “Why thank you all.”
“Your welcome Miss (y/n)!” “Will we be able to visit you in the castle?” “Is the king nice?” “Are you gonna have kids of your own?” I laughed at the many questions they asked before getting taken away and scolded lightly by their parents.
“(y/n)!!” “Oh my baby you look wonderful!”
I looked up and had a half smile, My mother and sister walked up to me, both of them with tears in their eyes. I rolled my eyes but took both of them into my arms, allowing some tears down my face. Though I still held some anger towards my mom for just giving me up, but I couldn’t help myself, I was glad to have her in my arms.
“My love, Please come up here, It is time.”
I stand up and turn to walk back up, seeing Kars with the same beautiful crown that I saw when I first arrives, the jewel dangling beautifully from it. A smile graced my lips as I stood right infront Kars, I felt a feeling of Joy in my body, the fear that I had when I first came was slowly going away. Kars returned the look as he turned to face the crowd.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, We are gathered here today to celebrate the arrival of my Beautiful, Wonderful and Lovely Queen.” Kars started, I nod along, watching his every movement, He was beautiful, an absolute masterpiece. I still wondered what he would want with a half baked potato like me. I was pulled out of my trance by a weight on my head, realizing he had placed the crown on top of my head. He looked down at me with a look that I’ve never seen before on him, Care, Love, like he genuinely loved me. He then turned back to the crowd pulling me close to him.
“I do hope that you all will continue to watch over us, and grow alongside us.” He spoke before placing a hand underneath my chin. He lifts it slightly before leaning down to capture my lips in a soft, loving kiss, I was shocked, but only for a bit. I soon wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. This must’ve surprised him because he pulled away slightly and whispered. “Oh you little minx~ Just wait until we get behind closed doors..” He placed another quick kiss on my lips before backing away and waving to the cheering crowd. He placed a hand on my lower back as I raised my hand to wave as well, seeing many of the crowd was moved to tears.
I guess seeing one of their own go from literally rags to riches is enough to get anyone crying.
Kars led me back inside, humming to himself softly, his hand firmly placed on my hip. “Kars..may I ask a question?” I ask, making the male let out a soft laugh. “My love, You just did.. But go ahead” He teased, making me puff out my cheeks in tiny annoyance. I sighed and went ahead with asking my question. “Um..Is it okay if my Mom and Sister come and live with us?”
Kars stopped walking, I thought it was because of what I said, but sighed with relief when he was just opening his room, well our room door. He ushered me inside and closed the door behind him. “Of course they can, My Darling…” He started, locking the door, pulling it to make sure it was secured. “But that’s not what I’m worried about right now.” He purrs, a sultry undertone in his voice. I could feel another blush coming on, I went to sit on the bed and just flopped on my back. I let out a groan of satisfaction as to how soft his bed was, making Kars let out a low growl, one that sent shivers down my spine.
“You do not know how hard it was for me to not take you where we stood.”
I let out a squeak as the male was now on top of me, I didn’t notice that he had moved from his place by the door. He placed his face in the crook of my neck as he kept me pinned down, strong hands holding mine against the bed. He let out another low growl as he continued. “It took everything in me to not take you in front of the crowd, Letting them all know that you belong to me now.” He finished, placing kisses on the side of my neck. I could only let out a sigh of content as his kisses moved lower. I watched as he hovered over my chest, which was still covered by the fabric of the dress. He sat up and smirked, I looked at him confused before in one movement he ripped the dress. Going up from the slit until it reached my chest, he then removed the torn fabric from my body, chuckling at my reaction to the coldness of the room.
“I’ll buy you another one, my love, but right now, I need you more than ever.” He said, he then lifted my legs up onto his shoulder, earning another noise of shock from me. He let out another groan of annoyance before ripping my panties from my body. I shuddered at the new cold, but before I could comment, I let out a loud moan. Kars smirked before giving another long teasing lick “Don’t worry about me tonight. It’s all about you Darling, but after tonight, I will not hold back.” He says before he started to tongue fuck me. A completely new feeling that already having me seeing stars and it did not help that Kars was unrelenting either.
He pulled back a bit licking the slick that was left on his lips off before rubbing two fingers against my folds. He looked at me as if asking for permission, and when I gave him a soft nod he smirked once more, slowly pushing two of his fingers into me. He groaned at the sounds that I was making, he picked up the pace quickly, barely giving me anytime to adjust.
“K-kars..” I moaned out, my hands gripping the smooth silk sheets below me. He hummed in response, glancing back over to me. “Hmm? What is it, my love?” He asked teasingly as he increased the speed of his digits, I squirmed underneath him as I struggled to find the words to say. “D-don’t..” I managed to moan, feeling a knot building up, I was close and he seemed to know it. “Say it my love, I know you are enjoying this so much, the way you are clenching around just my fingers. It makes me wonder how you’ll take my cock~” My body automatically reacted to his teasing words, my hips bucking against his fingers, his pace brutal now. “D-don’t hold back..” I couldn’t even believe what I was saying just now. I’ve only had sex once before and it was clumsly to say the least, so for me to practically beg the King not to hold back was surprising.
He must’ve been surprised too because began chuckling before full on laughing, he removed his fingers causing me to let out a whine.
“My Darling woman, are you sure?” He asked as he stood up off of the bed. I nodded, my head cloudy, still whining from feeling empty. Kars quietly removed his bottoms, kicking them somewhere off to the side of the room, he pull me by my legs to the end of the bed.
I looked at his face, and a different expression was there. Lust. Eyes clouded over as he looked over my body. He teasingly pressed himself up against my folds and I gasped. Looking down this man was probably 9.5 inches with about a 1.5 girth, ‘How in the hell is that supposed to fit in me?!’ I thought.
Kars chuckled at the expression on my face. “I know, i know my love, I’m going to take my time so you can get adjusted.” He says, slowly guiding himself inside me. Just from his head, I already felt like he wouldn’t fit, but as he slowly inched more and more inside, he stretched me out wonderfully. Once he was fully inside of me, he gave a slow experimental thrust, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips back. I cried out in pain and pleasure, he set a slow pace, everytime, he snapped his hips in just the right way to hit that spot. The pain was fading fast, and I wanted more than this slow pace he had.
“Kars..Please just fuck me…”
My words must’ve made him snap, soon after those words left my lips he began thrusting at a more violent and fast pace, making me cry out in pleasure. His name was falling off my lips like a mantra, He was hitting just the right spot everytime. I managed to look up at him, his eyes were half open, jaw locked as he let some groans and grunts. One thrust had me seeing stars, I did not care how loud i was being at this point and I’m pretty sure any servant that walked by could hear.
One of Kars hands slowly snaked its was up to my neck and gave it a slight squeeze. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, Tell me darling.” He growled out. I moaned out his name loud, practically screaming it at this point. He smirked “Louder. I want them to know who you belong to (y/n)”
“You Kars!”
“Louder!”
“KARS!”
I cried out feeling that familiar knot unraveling, I could feel myself clenching around his cock, making him curse and growl.
“That’s it..That’s it..You’re mine, No one else's..”
He moans out, feeling his thrust start to get sloppy until that came to a complete halt and he was spilling his seed into me. He stayed in place until he finished before slowly pulling out. He moved to lay beside me and pull me into his chest. I turned to give him a kiss but he just held me in place. “Shh..My Love, You’re tired..Let's just rest, Tomorrow you can relax all day and I’ll have someone come check in on you.” He mumbled, running his hand through my hair, I hummed in response, feeling sleep starting to creep up on me.
“I love you Kars..” I mutter, feeling my eyes getting heavy, I hear him chuckle and place a kiss on my forehead.
“I love you too My Darling~...”
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When I awoke,it was still dark outside.
I was dressed in a nightgown and Kars was gone, I yawned softly and got up out of bed. I nearly fell because the feeling in my legs was barely there, I blushed remembering the activities. I slowly made my way to the door only to have someone else open the door.
“Ah Good Hello Stell-”
“Don’t you Hello me you whore.”
I was taken back by her words and angry expression. “Excuse me?” I was confused. She let out a yell of frustration. “It’s your fault! You are the reason I am not Queen! A common bitch like you!” She barked. I was hurt, I thought of Stella as a nice woman, but now she’s showing a totally different side of herself. I moved to push past her and head out the door but her words made me stop.
“Hell You’re just gonna be like the other girl before you!”
I stopped and turned to face her. “Say what?” She laughed at me before crossing her arms. “You thought you were picked out because they thought you were interesting? No, It’s because you look like Kar’s previous wife. He killed her. He only wants someone who is powerful enough to use the stone thats on the crown.” She saunters her way over to my crown and holds it in her hands. “You’re just going to be another dead body.”
I stood horrified, Mom told me that the previous Queen had died of illness, not that she was killed by Kars. “No..No He wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me.” Stella lets out another loud laugh before looking at me with a deadpan look. “He told me that too. He told me he loves me and that I’m special. I was going to be queen if it wasn’t for you.” She growled, marching forward, “So why don’t you do me a favor and run away. Run far from here..So that My King, no my Husband would have to dirty his hand with more blood” She said.
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and I ran out of the room, hearing her evil cackles from the room.
I went up to several maids and butlers to ask where Kars and the other kings were, but even they would not talk to me. I could feel even more tears run down my face as I ran through the halls, I burst open a door feeling the coldness of the outside and run down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs stood Kars himself talking to a guard. I turned to take another way around the castle, an exit that I saw earlier when I first arrived. It was cold,I was freezing, but I couldn’t not bring myself to look Kars in the face anymore. What if I was just another body? What if he’ll ditch me and get another woman? Hell, if Stella said was true, was he just using me?
So many thoughts were running through my head, I didn’t even notice that I had bumped into someone. “I’m s-sorry..”
“My Queen, what are you doing out?” It was Esidisi, I gasped and began crying even more as I dropped to my knees. “He doesn’t love me Esi! He..He is..Just using me..” I cried out, my cries loud and echoing off the outside walls. Multiple footsteps could be heard running up to us.”My Darling?” I hear Kars call out, I continue to cry, I should have known that royalty like him wouldn’t love a commoner like me. I might as well give up the crown and just go home.
I could feel someone pick me up and hold me bridal style in their arms. “Esidisi. What is she doing out here?” “I don’t know, She ran into me crying about how you do not truly love her and you are using her.” I heard Kars suck in breath and hold me even tighter. “Who said this to you?” He asked me. I shook my head and kept crying, he shushed me and carried me back inside.
He holds me in his arms continuously telling me how much he loved me and to not listen to those rumors. When he entered the main ballroom where most maids were cleaning. “Excuse me. Who in the world told my Queen that I don’t love her?” he barked. I wiped my eyes, watching as each and everyone of the servants who gave me the cold shoulder. Kars sucked his teeth before moving to carry me like i was a child so he could have a free hand. He gripped one maid by her hair, making her let out an ear piercing scream. “I said tell me.”
“AH One of the Head maids your majesty!! She started spreading rumors, but Stella tried to stop her but she kept going.” I rolled my eyes knowing this fully to be a lie. Kars threw her across the room with his brute strength. “Oh you’ll receive a proper punishment soon. But now I have to deal with my Queen.” He said coldly, moving back to holding me with two arms. I lay my head comfortable on Kars shoulder, my cheeks stained with tears as I ended up falling back asleep in his arms.
“My Queen, don’t you worry..I will find out who did this to you..who lied on my name and made you feel unworthy of my love.”
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To say he was pissed was an understatement. Kars had laid (y/n) back in their shared bed, he then charged in the servant quarters scaring all of them.
Those servants wished that they would have spoken up, or comforted the queen in that moment, they suffered severe beatings, threats and some of them were even sent to the dungeon.
All while Stella Listened and laughed.
“One step closer...Just one step closer.”
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I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
My playlist for this entire story is
Montero By Lil Nas X
Alejandro and Bad Romance by Lady Gaga
Streets By Doja Cat
Paparazzi: Kim Dracula
What songs does this story make you think of?
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#pillarmen#jjba pillarmen#yandere pillarmen#pillarmen x reader#Yandere Kars x reader#kars x reader#jjba kars#yandere kars#jjba esidisi#jjba wamuu#jjba#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure#Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken#Jjba x reader#jjba fanfiction#jjba fanfic#x reader#yandere x reader
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To Topple A Giant || Chapter Five
Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.
Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader
Part 5 of 10 ~ Mini-Series
Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.
Warnings in this Chapter: mentions of male masturbation and boners (lol); strong language; references to suicide, murder, and drug smuggling; abusive parental relationship; mentions of child death in a second flashback; dry humping (smut); 18+ only please!
Word Count: 16,500+
A/N: damn that chapter warning list was a trip to write down lmao
~
Westview, 2023, 1:32 pm
An uncomfortable silence spread throughout the parked vehicle, daring either of you to take the first step. No one commented on the glares boring into your soul as you drove through the town or how heavily the three of you got patted down by the authorities right outside the state line. You figured it was completely justified - still a little insulting to a bunch of Avengers who literally saved the world three weeks ago.
With a loud gulp, Bucky was the first to kick open his door and get out of the car. You glanced at Steve from the driver’s seat, biting your lip with a slight quiver as you went over the speech you practiced earlier today. Simple enough, and not too damning.
Steve’s leg bounced rapidly a few more times before he too kicked open his door, leaving you in silence. You pulled the car keys from the ignition and took in a deep breath. Your legs were numb, the anxiety washing over you in uneven cycles. It was now or never.
“Wanda, it’s us…”
Her grief seemed to emit from every crack in the sidewalk, every weak beg escaping the townspeople’s throats, every sound from the inanimate objects her powers had continued to turn from gray to red… to green… back to gray. She was crouched on the property, weeds brushing against her black pants and leaving their mark, mascara smudged with each new wet streak.
Bucky unzipped his jacket, eyes wandering over the deserted plot of land as Wanda tried to control her sobs. She had already caused enough damage, both physical and psychological, the possibility of more government involvement looming over your heads. He carefully walked toward her and wrapped his jacket over her shoulders, all be damned as he held her and began to tear up himself.
“Wanda, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll get through this,” Steve sighed, still keeping a respectable distance from her in case she were to run. But you knew her better - she was all out of fight. One fight after another and yet she still lost her love.
“I did something really bad,” she sobbed, eyes locked on the spot where Vision had just disappeared. Again.
“No, you didn’t know what you were doing,” Steve declared, shocked by the unexpected scoff from Bucky.
“Save it, Steve. She may not have known in the beginning but she does now. She still did it.”
No one dared correct Bucky or argue with that logic because if anyone knew about causing harm with absolutely no intention, it was obviously him. Taking responsibility - that was the best course of action.
Once you heard of a radioactive disturbance in a small town just outside the state, the team almost retired completely. So soon after defeating Thanos, so soon after Tony’s death, so soon after Natasha’s death - the team left it up to the proper authorities this time around.
But the second you watched the broadcast of Wanda’s fantasies, the sitcom her powers were conjuring, her giving birth to her children… all you could do was wait until she opened the barrier.
“I still did it,” Wanda said, her upper body beginning to rock back and forth as her fingertips brightened with red tendrils of magical grief.
You shut your eyes and willed yourself not to cry. You had done so much crying these past few years and you were oh, so tired. You couldn’t possibly take another beating.
“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Bucky spoke, gently turning Wanda’s face and placing both his hands on her cheeks, mindful of the metal appendage he had forgotten to cover with his glove. “You already did it. It can’t be undone. But you can come with us and grieve properly.”
Wanda reached up and placed her hands over his, tears spilling from her eyes faster now.
“Let us help you grieve.”
This wasn’t an unexpected goodbye. Wanda knew that. She had just voluntarily given up her husband and children - anyone would crumble from that sort of devastation. But now she had been given a proper goodbye, a somewhat proper closure, and the chance to accept it. “Okay.”
You and Steve remained frozen in place even after Bucky helped Wanda stand. Almost as quickly as you thought it, your feet had a mind of their own. You stood next to Steve, taking in the weed infested, rectangular plot of land - the remnants of Wanda’s fantasy still fresh and creating a tiny, refreshing tingle in the middle of your chest. You looked over at Steve and smiled sadly when you saw him inspecting the area as well.
“They would have had a beautiful life together.”
Steve’s breath hitched as you finished your declaration, looking over at you and nodding slightly.
“If I had the chance, I would have wanted a nice house with some decent air conditioning. Some weird, front yard garden where I could plant random flowers. A dog that dug them up and acted like it didn’t do it.”
You giggled, thumbnail between your incisors to try and disguise the wider grin forming. Steve kept speaking.
“Maybe a kid or two. Never actually checked if I could even have kids after the serum.”
You dropped your hand from your face, your attention completely on him now.
Steve sighed and kicked a rock over to the other side of the property. “I would have wanted a giant, king-sized bed. With ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels. And every once in a while we would accidentally use the other one’s toothbrush, a secret we would take to the grave.”
Steve wasn’t even looking over at you as he said this. It was like a one-sided confession, rhetorical, not needing an immediate response or expression in return. And you couldn’t believe he was just saying this in front of you - you of all people - the same person who rolled their eyes whenever Steve struggled to comprehend a modern topic or argued with him when he was in one of his moods. He had been distant the last few weeks after returning the stones, only ever noticing you when other people were around to carry a conversation.
The tingles in your chest were starting to disappear as the plot of land gave its last few magical rumbles.
“Steve?”
Steve bowed his head, hands in his pockets and breath steady. “Yes, they would have been very happy together.”
You stared at the back of his head as he slowly walked back to the car.
Present Day, 2025, 8:10 am
The amount of times you reminded yourself to wake up early as you were drifting off to sleep last night was perhaps more than the number of sheep you had ever counted in your life. A quick reminder here and there as your mind got clogged with pointless information, the number eight behind your eyelids all throughout the night.
And you did it. In the early hours of the morning, knowing Steve would wake naturally in about twenty minutes, you tip-toed out of bed to use the bathroom. Acting completely normal in case he did in fact hear you before your grand plan - an easy escape route if he decided to repeat his horrible morning ritual on you. But he was such an old man, getting older, losing that serum’s boost. This Steve, Steve who refused to call any movie made after 1945 ‘old’ because he literally didn’t get the chance to see them premiere - yeah, this Steve, was passed out like he had been hit by a truck.
Bladder empty and teeth brushed, you quietly opened the bathroom door and peeked through. He still lay there on his back, wrapped tightly in his blanket, breathing steadily, and face completely unprotected.
Could you die? Probably. Would this payback be absolutely satisfying? Hell yeah.
You grabbed the biggest of your pillows and fisted the corner tightly, twisting it a couple times for a better grip. You signed the cross quickly before lifting the pillow above your head and bringing it down to Steve’s face.
Steve’s eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up, “WHAT?”
His eyes flew around the room rapidly until they landed on you, angry and challenging.
“Payback!” you yelled, lifting the pillow high again for a second hit. But he reacted quicker, grabbing a pillow himself and swinging it toward you. It slammed you in the torso and practically sent you flying. You landed at the edge of your bed, mouth open in shock and racks of laughter bubbling deep within your chest. You stood quickly and hit him repeatedly, trying your best to also block his counterattack.
He reached for your hip and pulled you in his bed, rolling the two of you over so he was straddling your hips. He brought the pillow down several more times before accepting your plea of surrender.
You threw the pillow back to your bed and pouted, “Not a fair fight!”
Steve scoffed, “You caught me off guard! You had all the advantages!”
You shuffled beneath him and froze, hips stuck in a lifted position as you were too embarrassed to move them back down. “Jesus, Steve! How do you even sleep on your stomach with that thing?”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows as he inspected your face and body, looking down at the two of you before he noticed the way he was pressing into your inner thigh. He scrambled off you, a blush spreading from his cheeks and all the way down his chest. He cupped himself and turned away, quickly shuffling for his suitcase and pulling whatever clothes his flustered hands grabbed. He was also repeatedly apologizing.
“Steve, it’s okay. It just… startled me, is all.”
Steve cleared his throat a couple times before pacing around the room in search of his toiletries.
You just sat back on your elbows, watching him scurry like a chicken with its head cut off. It was rather amusing.
“I’m gonna - gonna, take a shower. Uh, I’m sorry again.”
You smirked at the super soldier, “Steve, I’m not mad. It isn’t like I’m new to that kind of thing.”
Steve blushed harder, “But I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
You shrugged your shoulders and dipped lower into his sheets, grabbing and lifting them higher. You snuggled deeper, “Still.”
Steve could feel the speed at which the world rotated and he shut the bathroom door behind him. He leaned against it, breathing deeply until he had all his inhibitions back.
He didn’t know what was more embarrassing - reacting the way he did or you seeing him react the way he did. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t seen each other in awkward situations, some borderline lewd. There were plenty of missions that involved heavy flirting with the targets, undercover work in depraved settings, missions where nasty magic was involved and concocted a multitude of inappropriate visions. Hell, everyone had already seen each other naked. It was completely normal, a trustworthy environment, and sometimes necessary.
As much as he wanted to give into the feeling and award himself some proper alone time, he refused to act upon it. He would regret it later once the stress pushed down harder than usual, but it just wasn’t appropriate in his right mind to masturbate with you in the other room.
Why did he have to be such a good and honorable man?
He busied himself with washing his hair and scrubbing away any evidence of sleep from his face. Steve liked sleeping on his stomach, face smooshed in the pillows and arms extended to his sides. It allowed for more comfortable movement, more ways to stretch his hips, just overall comfort for his massive shoulders. Less pressure on the lungs, too. And unlike the enthusiastic yet almost mean accusation that he couldn’t possibly enjoy that position because of his… well, his dick, Steve would choose that position over sleeping on his back any day. But that morning, his body had decided to betray him in more ways than one. One, he was open to attack because he was on his back. And two, whatever dream he was having caused his morning wood to seem larger this morning.
He had washed up quickly, more time spent out of the shower where he fixed his hair and combed his beard. He thought about shaving it for the rehearsal dinner or wedding, but it gave him a more rugged look - like he was all tough and no funny business. As ridiculous as it sounded, the beard allowed him to lean into the criminal act easier, build a fake personality that already had your father eating out of his hand.
Opening the bathroom door and having to face the music, Steve was almost certain you would continue to tease him. But you were already munching on the breakfast you had ordered, shoveling hash browns in your mouth as you swiped the mouse through pages and pages of intel. You didn’t even look up as he crossed the room to grab a pair of pants he had forgotten to pick up during his quick escape. That settled his nerves almost instantly and he was dressed and settled next to you soon after.
You worked in silent cooperation for a long while, handing each other files and passing phone calls like you had during every other mission before. Except now it was more comfortable, pleasant, and kind - the soft sounds from the television in the corner, the humming of the desktop, the soft hums of recognition whenever you two showed each other something. You didn’t even bother with what happened in the morning, if it really was anything at all, because you honestly found it normal. You were more focused on the conversation you had last night.
Steve had offered to kill your father if you seriously couldn’t. Just thinking about his offer caused your stomach to turn. Because yes, you wanted him dead. You wanted to snap his neck in ten different places and feed him to scavengers. You wanted to steal his business from under him and tear it apart, bit by bit, and keep him alive long enough to see you do it. You wanted to see the look in his eyes when you revealed that you double-crossed him. And as the day inched closer, the overwhelming feeling of shame pushed down on your shoulders and swallowed your mind. Once your father was dead, you and Steve would never find true peace. His men would always follow you, probably take you down at the local coffee shop you and Peter frequented.
The thought of dying in front of Peter caused a lump to form in your throat. No, you wouldn’t do that to your friends. You couldn’t do this to Steve.
But you had to. Because even though your life will never be yours after this mission, you had to save the countless others your father was sure to touch and ruin.
But was your life ever truly yours?
Steve’s voice pulled you from your clouded mind.
“Huh?”
“I asked if you wanted the last piece of fruit.”
You looked at Steve then at the small piece of watermelon in the bowl, then back at Steve. He had a pen in between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked, and slightly puffy eyes due to the beer heavy sleep he had last night. You looked away as quickly as you could and stared back at the fruit, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
Ridiculous, you thought. Just looking at Steve had flustered you, squeezing your stomach in pleasurable pulses you hadn’t felt since high school. “No, no. You can have it,” you said, hoping your voice wouldn’t crack.
Ridiculous.
Steve watched you with a funny smile but he took your word and scooped up the last piece for himself.
No, you thought again, this man will not give me freaking butterflies.
It wasn’t like it was odd. Steve had you flustered countless times before, but it was never quite as tingly as it was now. You suddenly wanted to facetime Wanda and rant about these weird feelings; you wanted to curl in on yourself and squeal; you wanted to -
“He’s what?”
You sat on your knees and leaned over the back of the couch, chin resting on your folded arms as you watched Steve pace around the common room. He was tugging at his dress shirt repeatedly, desperately trying to attach cufflinks without additional help. Sam sat right beside you, in the same position, snickering each time Steve cursed under his breath.
“He’s nervous,” Bucky smirked, arm holding out Steve’s tie for the past five minutes. Steve had paced beside him various times already, completely oblivious.
Steve groaned and readjusted his collar, snapping his head toward the three of you. “I’m not nervous.”
“You’re sweating buckets, man,” Sam pointed out, one of his hands discreetly opening up his camera and switching to video.
“What if she doesn’t like me?”
Bucky threw his head back and cackled, choosing to grab Steve and steady him to finally put that damn tie around his neck. “Same old, Steve. Can’t accept that a dame would ever possibly like you back.”
“Hey, Steve don’t worry about it,” you started, shooting Steve a sympathetic look. Steve glanced back at you, expression swiftly changing due to your kind tone. “... when I was in high school,-”
Steve released a loud grunt, rolling his eyes and stepping away from Bucky’s hands.
Sam rolled over and clutched his stomach as he laughed, pulling you into him. The two of you shook from your laughs together.
“Guys,” Bucky warned, reaching for Steve in a ‘grabby’ motion. “Give him a break.”
Steve reluctantly stood beside Bucky again, head tilted upward as he tried wrapping the tie back around his neck.
None of you heard the entrance of Thor and his brother, too busy with bullying, laughter, or moderating.
“Did we miss all the fun?”
You shot up from the ground, kicking Sam away as you rushed across the floor and stumbled over the rug. “Thor!”
You rushed into his arms and he gripped you tightly, swinging you around and loud laughter matching yours.
“Now, why wasn’t I greeted in a similar manner?” Loki questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.
You pulled your face from Thor’s shoulder, “Oh, you want this too?”
You jumped back onto the floor and were about to jump into Loki’s arms, but he held his own out, stopping you. “It’s too late. It’s not the same.”
“Piss baby,” you quipped, rushing behind Thor for protection when Loki’s mouth dropped in surprise.
“Can everyone stop what they’re doing real quick and tell Steve his date is going to go well tonight?”
You rolled your eyes at Bucky’s favor, but he just raised his eyebrows, challenging you to disobey the order.
“The Captain has a date? Are they okay?”
Loki and you shared a comical gasp.
Steve gaped, “Now, what in the world does that mean, Thor?”
Thor raised his hands in defense, “I’m just asking if she truly knows what she’s getting herself into! Don’t try and tell me she has no idea who you are.”
Steve was back to groaning nonstop. Bucky threw his hands up in the air, “I ask one thing of you guys. One thing.”
You stomped over to Steve and ripped the half-tied tie from his neck and smoothed down his collar. You patted down his shoulders and the front of his shirt, and gripped his shoulders to straighten his back.
“Now,” you smiled up at him. The breath caught in your throat for a second, the blue of his eyes shining under the ceiling lights and the pink of his cheeks spreading slowly. You let out a tiny sigh, heart fluttering faintly from the small grin he was giving you. He looked so innocent, a renaissance subject created from light oils, signs of true aging showing in his forehead. “Whatever date you got planned, she’s gonna love it.”
Steve relished in the feeling of your palms pressed against his chest for a few moments before he nodded at your declaration. He stepped back and smoothed down his shirt. “Wish me luck?”
A chorus of ‘good luck’s sounded as Steve found his keys and shared a goodnight hug with Sam and Bucky. They both jokingly reminded him to use protection.
You watched Steve leave, a newfound bounce in his step as he walked away. Your words had been so simple, so cliche, and yet he had dropped any visible nerves as he walked out the door. You weren’t the best motivational speaker, that was for sure, but the proof of at least an ounce of motivation was there. Maybe your words held a hidden meaning. Maybe.
You thought about him picking up this random woman, wine and dining her, kissing her cheek as he said his goodbyes at the end of the night. It was somewhat adorable to think about, but also weird.
Before you could dive more into the strange feeling, Thor’s voice sounded.
“Should we order pizza or chinese?”
It’s like that snapped you from your trance, because next thing you knew you were back to your playful self, sprinting across the room and into Loki’s arms.
You cherished the slight, pleasant churn of your stomach as you watched him happily munch on the fruit.
Okay, it was normal to have a tiny crush on your mission partner. God knows how many times you wanted to jump Thor’s bones whenever you were undercover together. A crush was normal, completely natural and expected.
Except you had never gotten so much sane joy from a simple question of whether you wanted the last piece of fruit.
You blinked a few times and shook off any trace of overthinking devils, grabbing at random files to occupy your mind for a while. After about fifteen more minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke.
“So, we think Ramirez is gonna get straight up murdered?”
Steve snorted, filing through a pile of papers Torres had delivered this morning. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but sure.”
“But it’s just a theory at this point. We can’t just go in guns blazing without enough proof.”
“And if there is proof? Do we protect him? The original mission was to arrest all four men.”
You groaned, “I don’t know. He’s never done me wrong.”
“Personal feelings aside, Y/N.”
“Ugh, fine. But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”
Steve squinted at you with a playful smile. “You’d rather just arrest the bad ones, huh?”
“Obviously what Ramirez is doing is illegal and it’s horrific to think of what might be happening behind the scenes on his side, but either he’s serious or he’s been putting on this good guy act for his whole life.”
“Leaning towards the first option?”
Shrugging, you leaned toward your computer screen and scrolled through the massive list of emails. “It’s what my gut tells me, but ehh.”
There was one random email from Maribel, but random only meant coded. Reading it over a couple times, humming to yourself in concentration, you finally cracked the code she was trying to send.
“Maribel says Ramirez acquired some land in Mexico… lots of it.”
Steve looked up from the files, “Any significance?”
“It’s probably for growing the products.”
Steve quickly typed key words that would alert him of any new transactions in the past few months. “Who’s on the title?”
“Just him. And his oldest daughter. My father must know, right?”
Steve leaned back in his chair, releasing a heavy sigh as he thought about what this could mean. “Ramirez acquiring more land means more of Ramirez’s product. A three-way partnership would be split unevenly if he utilizes the land.”
“Make sure Bucky alerts us of any business my father might have with realtors authorized to work in that area.”
It functioned like this for another hour, the two of you sharing bits of information every ten minutes or so.
“Torres sent us an update on White.”
You rubbed at your strained eyes, “What does he say?”
Steve’s eyebrows raised, “That he’s been in the country for much longer than his passport says.”
You stood from your seat and rushed to look at the same screen Steve was reading from. “He traveling under a fake name?”
“Customs says he returned to Germany,” Steve stated, highlighting a paragraph on the screen for you to easily read. “Four weeks ago.”
It was your turn to snort out a laugh, “Oh, he’s so setting up an alibi.”
Steve nodded in agreement, “Looks like it.”
You slapped his shoulder lightly, voice raising an octave. “Look at us! Piecing together the puzzle!”
“We still got a few more pieces to attach before you go getting all cocky.”
You chuckled and decided to take a break. You speed walked over to your bed and plopped down, the mountain of pillows already relieving your tense muscles. “Hey, has my sister’s plane landed yet?”
Steve glanced at you quickly before pulling up Bucky’s morning emails. “Uh, landed about an hour ago.”
“She at the estate?”
He shrugged, “Torres hasn’t sent an update. Just her profile, hold up.”
You waved him off, a nonverbal way of telling him you seriously couldn’t care less. “I haven’t spoken to her since I joined you guys. You don’t gotta give me her origin story.”
“That long?” Steve questioned.
You placed a pillow beneath your head, body horizontal and facing Steve. “We were never that close. I’ve got tons of half-siblings. Most of them were adults when I was born, anyway.”
With just a few words exchanged, Steve realized he had just stepped through your metaphorical door of reminiscing. So he stood to lay in his own bed, the simple action of giving you attention enough to keep you talking, he hoped. “Were you alone a lot? Growing up, I mean.”
You watched as Steve also placed a pillow beneath his head, “There were always kids around. Kids of the maids, cousins, neighbors.”
“A full house, sounds like.”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, a small smile forming as you thought about old friends. “I remember this one time, we all ran into Ramirez when we were trying to get to one of the playrooms. But he grabbed me quickly and told me to not go in there.”
“Was it a threat?”
You grinned at his protective tone, “No, it was a warning. There were some really bad men in the other room. It was me and a few other girls. He told us to run back to my room and lock the door until he came to get us.”
Steve couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation as to why Ramirez joined the drug game. Sure, the function and presence of cartels had changed drastically over the last forty years, but it didn’t explain why he remained involved. In the eighties, the drug game was highly televised and spoken about, but the cartel violence was not as strong. Nowadays, and not even you could give a proper explanation, the violence was astronomical and basically advertised as something to expect when visiting certain countries. This was the mob game now, freaking Al Capone or the goddamn Godfather, absolutely meant to frighten whoever dare join or leave. For Ramirez to still be one of the big players even with that many internal changes, to be a good person in the middle of such hell, didn’t make any sense.
“He protected you.”
You clutched the pillow closer to your chest, the memory a good one even if it was weird. “Oh, yeah. Those guys he was warning us about were no angels.”
Steve gave an awkward smile, “I feel like I know more about your childhood than you know mine.”
“I’m all ears if you wanna tell me about little, asthmatic Steve Rogers.”
He raised his index finger at you, “Hey, I was more than just my asthma.”
“Oh, excuse me. I totally forgot about your scoliosis.”
The pillow under his head was now flying across the small distance to your face. You shrieked and sent it back.
“Stop bullying!” Steve laughed.
You shielded your face in case he decided to continue the pillow war. “What? I’ve got my health problems, too! I just don’t have the serum to help me out.”
But he didn’t throw it again. He repositioned himself on his back and placed both hands beneath his head, gracing the ceiling with a grin. “I remember this one time, Bucky and I were around eleven-years old, and I had this really bad asthma attack. Bucky just freaked out. I was choking and he was just holding me, screaming for help -”
You blinked, “This is really depressing, what are you-”
“-and! Bucky threw himself into a full-blown panic attack. So we were both choking on air, but I was starting to laugh at him freaking out, which only made him choke harder. We ended up throwing up.”
You were silent at the end of his short story, mouth open in a wide smile. “I don’t know what else to say other than that was one of the greatest stories I’ve ever heard.”
Steve rolled over, a literal twinkle in his eye. “See? Don’t interrupt me before I get to the good parts.”
This simple moment catapulted the realization that Steve hasn’t spoken to you this much in two years, to the front of your mind. In these past four days, you had spoken like you had never stopped, like it was never awkward, like you two seriously didn’t need another person in the room to simply converse about what you wanted for breakfast. Yet here you were, more words exchanged in the past four days than you ever thought possible.
After the fallout, you didn’t say one full sentence to him for seven months. Seven months. He hadn’t attempted a conversation with you either, but you actively avoided him like he was infected. Hell, he even moved out of the compound and into his own apartment to get away from you for most of the day. After your forced reconciliation, the awkward apologies, you still didn’t force any open conversation. But it was easier, lighter, and most conversations involved mission information.
Talking this much now was so easy, so simple, like you didn’t need to force the comfort - there was already full comfort, a sense of community with this man.
He was so different from when he insulted you while you were packing, annoyed by the fact that you pried too much. And now you were prying into his childhood and him yours without a lick of annoyance on either side.
“We both had eventful childhoods, didn’t we?”
“What, with both of us in the middle of a war?” Steve asked, a genuine look on his face.
“Guess our wars never really left us, huh?”
There was a knock at the door. You weren’t expecting Torres again today. Steve muttered ‘room service, maybe’ under his breath as you went to open it. You were startled to find Scott standing outside, two massive suitcases in his hand.
“Oh my god, I forgot you were arriving today!”
Scott scoffed, “Am I not as important as your other friends?”
You laughed and helped him inside, “Stop! You’re one of my favorite bugs!”
“Ha ha. Very funny. I’ll leave right now if you two decide to pile on me instead of each other.” Scott placed one of the suitcases near the door but the other at the edge of your bed.
“We’ll be nice,” Steve promised, standing to greet Scott with a hug.
“You better. Catch me up, please?”
The suitcase contained your outfits for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Whoever was in charge of costumes definitely went all out, hoping their work would make the big fight the most fashionable. Steve was given a perfectly tailored suit, navy blue and velvet. It was lined with vibranium, inside pockets covered with it. That would certainly be handy if you were forced to walk through metal detectors - vibranium couldn’t be detected. His suit for the rehearsal dinner was a lot simpler, the custom black and white aesthetic, but still protected with vibranium.
Your clothes were certainly not styled to match Steve’s, giving you a sense of individuality. It was perfect really - it would allow you to leave Steve’s side, if necessary, when the mission called for you to split up. Your rehearsal dinner outfit was two parts: a black, velvet long-sleeved shirt, slight turtleneck, and gold cuffs. It was joined by a long gold skirt, high-waisted, the front shorter than the back and sides more curled than ruffled. You would have to wear tights underneath, but it was beautiful. Vibranium was also stitched in for added protection. Your dress for the actual wedding, however, was a total knockout. Red, spaghetti strap, tight on top but loose once it reached your hips, a long slit on the left side. They were even kind enough to give you a pair of heels to match.
Yeah, Steve was Captain America and his appearance will shock the guests, but your attire will definitely be the second topic in gossip.
Scott was filing through the same papers you and Steve had reviewed earlier, a bowl of potato chips at his side. And it was peaceful - you and Steve even had the chance to nap.
“So, you’re gonna see Jackeline at the rehearsal dinner?”
You wiped the remnants of your nap from your face and groaned as you stretched, “She’ll probably be busy tomorrow when we go for breakfast, so yeah.”
Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes practically attached to the computer screen. “And… she’s the one getting married?”
His tone started to worry Steve, “Yes, Scott. You good?”
Scott piled a handful of potato chips in his mouth, finger clicking the mouse every few seconds. His eyes were now wide, blinks forgotten. “Jackeline Vega. Jackeline.”
Steve ignored him now, “Hey, why isn’t your last name Vega?”
As much as you wanted to share about how and why you changed your last name, Scott’s demeanor interested you more. “Changed it when I became an American citizen - Scott, what’s up?”
He let out a tiny squeak, swallowing his snack quickly. “And she’s your father’s favorite?”
You rolled your eyes, “Mmm.”
Scott released a huge huff of air, shoulders falling as he raised his voice and turned the monitor to face you. “Think he knows anything about this?”
The photograph was blurry because it was enhanced, but you could still make out the face of a sister you hadn’t seen in years. Older, still with teenage features obviously, and tossed on what looked like a church alter-
Steve's eyes widened, “Is she…?”
Scott finished his sentence for him, “Fucking a priest?”
You covered your mouth in shock, “Oh my god, she’s fucking a priest!”
Bent on the literal church altar, skirt bunched around her hips, head thrown back in ecstasy and face in full view. And the damned priest, in between her legs and under the eyes of god.
“That’s why I asked!”
Steve clutched at his chest, head thrown back as he howled, “I think you were wrong about your sister.”
Now your eyes were glued to the screen, “Oh, I was fuck all from correct!”
Scott cleared his throat, “Is the priest… her fiance?”
Steve came down from his laugh attack, “I highly doubt that, Scott.”
“This is actually really damning evidence.”
You grinned at Scott, “For what? Painting her out to look like the most sinful whore? I might just congratulate her.”
Steve stared at you, judging almost. “For fucking a priest?”
“For proving me wrong. She’s not so innocent after all,” you responded, cheeks strained from how wide you were smiling.
“Clearly. This is… actually badass,” Scott admitted, turning the monitor back to him.
You teased, singing your next words. “Don’t let the Lord and Savior hear that.”
Steve glared, “Y/N.”
You leaned away from him, “What? Anyway, that’s gotta be one the worst sins to commit, right?”
Steve’s expression contorted from annoyance to disbelief. “We’ve literally killed people.”
“Pfft, but we’re not fucking priests. Right?”
Scott answered, nodding quicker than he needed to. “Right.”
“You’re literally asking that?”
You pressed your lips into a fine line and tilted your head at Steve. “Steve?”
He glared at you for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m not fucking any priests.”
Your response was immediate, “Alright! I gotta hand it to her, though. Who took the photo?”
Scott went back to fishing through the emails. “Some sleazy magazine that never got around to actually printing these out.”
“Someone paid them off. Or killed them.”
“I wonder who,” you replied sarcastically.
Steve continued, “You honestly think he would support her doing that?”
You shrugged and scurried back over to your unmade bed. “Not my problem.”
Scott interjected, “Okay, okay. How’s tomorrow gonna work?”
Steve answered first, “Well, we’re driving out around eight.”
You hummed in agreement, reaching over to unplug your phone from the charger. “Scott, you’ll just ride on one of our backs as we walk through the estate.”
“I kind of want to ride Y/N’s back this time.”
You snorted, “Now that doesn’t sound sexual at all.”
He hid his face in his hands, “You know, I heard it once I said it.”
“Course you did.”
Steve jumped back into the conversation, Scott’s embarrassment seeming to grow under the weird tension. “Then you’ll hop off and plant the bugs wherever you feel like they’re needed.”
“Easy peasy!” you cheered.
“Bucky and Sam gonna meet us Friday night?”
Steve nodded, “That’s what they said.” He looked over at you, scrolling through your phone and already smiling at something you found funny. He cleared his throat to get your attention. “You know they can be out here in under an hour if we seriously need them.”
You glanced over at Steve, his sincerity greatly appreciated. “I know. But all my faith is in Scott here.”
Scott moaned quietly, “Oh… no, let’s not put all the faith in me because I can’t handle that responsibility.”
You propped yourself up onto your elbows, “You saying I can’t trust you?”
“No, no! That’s not what I’m saying at all-!”
Steve rolled his eyes and looked at the man, a sheen of nervous sweat starting to form on his forehead. “Scott.”
Scott lowered his hands from his chest, “O-oh. She’s messing with me, huh?”
You chuckled and laid back down. “You’re so easy.”
The easygoing atmosphere for the next few hours almost had you believing you were on vacation, away from the bad guys and space aliens for just a moment. Almost like you weren’t in the middle of a drug war, a mob business, the literal daughter of a king. Scott had that effect, his personality such a sweet refresher and such a contrast to every soul in the compound.
Thor and Peter were also sweethearts and fun was always expected when they were around, but Scott had this different vibe. Maybe it was because he was relatively new, or that he had a child, or that he hadn’t suffered the same five years as everyone else did. Like he wasn’t yet tainted.
“You guys mind if I run a job inside a job?”
Your head snapped up at Scott’s crazy question, “You stealing something?”
To run a job inside a job was risky. There was no exact plan to keep both missions balanced, to somehow rank the other more important. You prayed it wasn’t something insane.
Scott chuckled under his breath, already grabbing his jacket and suitcase by the door. “No, I’m not stealing something. Hank needs me to speak to some guy he’s doing negotiations with about a space for a new lab headquarters.”
Steve tilted his head, “In Northern California?”
“Nah, the dude is vacationing out here for the time being. The lab will be in San Francisco again.”
You squinted at him, still cautious. “Where you meeting him?”
“Some nice Italian restaurant an hour out.”
Steve spoke before you did, similar thoughts running through his mind. “You check with Torres? We don’t know who might randomly show up there.”
Scott tried his best to reassure you, “Yeah, he said they’re following every car that leaves the premises and travels more than thirty minutes away. None of Ernesto’s men have been spotted further up north.”
You sighed. You didn’t want another member of your team to venture out in this area, let alone this goddamn state, without your eyes on them. You were protective, the proximity of your outside world with the one you had spent ten years building too suffocating of a reality.
Still, you told Scott goodbye with a steady voice. “Then enjoy your dinner, Scott.”
His voice picked up again, that childish and upbeat feeling wrapping you around his finger. “You guys wanna come with? I’m sure you’re sick of icky hotel food.”
Steve waved him off, “It’s actually not that bad-”
“Breadsticks. Garlic pasta. More breadsticks.”
You laughed, “That sounds nice, Scott but we can stay here-”
“Three-cheese pastas.”
“Scott, you can try all you want but-”
“Unlimited breadsticks.”
You shared a look at Steve, puckering your lips at the suggestion.
“.... We’ll sit far away from your table, okay?”
Scott opened the hotel door and started sprinting down the hallway. “I knew I could persuade you with that! C’mon!”
California at night was a death trap. Potholes on every stretch of asphalt, construction halted for who knows how long, random opossums lingering in the shadows just waiting to get hit by tires. It was prettier during the day - less of a ‘lead me into this forest, yes, kill me’ vibe.
You chilled in the backseat while Scott drove you guys to the restaurant. You had texted Bucky where you were planning to go, the message activating the group text chain.
Peter: it���s Wednesday! Who died?
Wanda: she’s literally texting us
Peter: Y/N, you won???
Bucky: fuck do I owe the fucking spider money?
Peter: pay up dude
Y/N: tf Bucky? You bet against me?
“You sure you two are good?”
The restaurant looked quiet considering it was a Wednesday night, but it was still crowded. There was a short line extending out the door and a… bouncer. You sucked in a breath and smacked Scott in the chest once you were out of the car.
“Thought you said this was a restaurant?”
Scott rubbed his chest, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “Restaurant slash bar!”
“We eating with the Italian mob now? I can only handle one mob at a time, Scott.”
You nodded rapidly, pointing at Steve. “I agree with him!”
“Not every place has bad guys!”
You groaned and reluctantly stood at the back of line, pulling Steve’s hat lower on his forehead. It wasn’t like people couldn’t take one long, hard look at him and not know who he was, anyway.
“Can you guys just… enjoy a night out?”
“While on a mission?”
“While living your long lives. God, Y/N, you getting old already?”
Your mouth dropped, “I’m twenty-six and I’m not complaining about a nice dinner, Scott.” You pointed at the bouncer. “I’m worried about the fact that our ID’s are gonna be checked.”
Scott’s mouth formed an ‘O’. “Yeah, that.”
“Next.”
You shot Steve a worried look but handed the bouncer your driver’s license. He just looked at the date of birth and moved you along. “Next.”
Scott handed him his, doing his best to smile proudly while the bouncer scanned him up and down. “Next.”
“See? Wasn’t so hard,” Scott joked, standing next to you in the far corner of the entrance.
You rolled your eyes, “Wait.”
The bouncer took one look at Steve’s ID and gasped. Steve looked anywhere but the bouncer’s eyes, his bottom lip suffering the abuse of his incisors.
“Cap-Captain?”
Steve gave a sheepish grin, lowering his cap further. “Uh, yeah.”
“Enjoying your day?”
You pinched your nose.
“Would like it a lot more if you could lead us to a table with as much privacy as you can offer.”
You had to hand it to Steve for taking advantage of situations like this.
The bouncer agreed immediately, speaking with the manager and promising discretion. The manager said it was no problem, that it was the least he could do for you guys after you brought his son back to him after those rough five years.
The restaurant offered a somewhat real Italian setting, awarding their guests with as much real scenery and architecture it could. You could only compare it to the Venetian in Vegas as you had never actually been to Italy, but the live band and garlic smell was enough to transport you.
The lights were low, older couples enjoying the food and wine, and there was a small bar near the back of the restaurant. It wasn’t really a place for some shady business, but years of experience let you know that wasn’t always the case. It was second nature to eye women reaching into their purses, only to pull out a pack of gum. Second nature to wince at the sound of a loud laugh cutting through the quiet atmosphere.
As promised, you were led to a more private area of the restaurant, closer to the bar than to the band.
“Go run the job, Scott. We’ll just be enjoying our unlimited breadsticks,” you said, letting out a heavy and relaxed sigh as you settled into the private booth.
“That hat isn't really hiding those broad shoulders, Cap,” Scott laughed, slapping Steve on the back.
Steve slid into the same booth, ignoring the completely empty seat across from you. “Thanks, Scott. I’m aware.”
You tried to hide your blush as you squeezed deeper in your seat. Scott noticed though, side eyeing Steve who was none the wiser. “You know, I told him that he should have used those facial changing things SHIELD used to have.”
Steve grabbed the offered utensils and started unwrapping them from their napkins.
“What are we if not superheroes who think a baseball cap and glasses hide our identities?” you teased, shooting Scott a quick wink.
Steve answered almost triumphantly, “Uh, Superman?”
You giggled and grabbed the napkin he had unwrapped for you. “I’d argue Thor is more like Superman, but okay.”
“How am I not more like Superman? What-”
“Uh, guys? I see the dude so I’m gonna go. You two enjoy your meal,” Scott interrupted, running off to a booth located toward the middle of the restaurant.
You sat for a few awkward moments before you squinted and looked at Steve, who was sitting to your left and way too close. “Are we annoying?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, like,” you spoke with your hands, “you and I bicker a lot because we love to annoy each other but you think it gets on other people’s nerves?”
Steve chuckled, rubbing his shoulder with yours. “Do you really care if it does?”
That blush of yours was starting to feel warmer. “No, just wondering if you felt that way.”
He shrugged, “I quite like our relationship.”
“Oh,” you smiled, looking down at your lap. “I quite liked it more a few years back but you know.”
He immediately tensed, body leaning away from you as if you were burning him. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “Sorry, that was low.”
He sighed deeply, “No, I deserve it. I’ll always deserve it.”
You took a risk and reached for his hand, squeezing gently. The kind gesture seemed to calm him, and he looked back at you. “I still shouldn’t have said it.”
He accepted that, and handed you the menu.
The hotel food was grand, it did its job of filling you up and providing the necessary nutrients, but there was just something about the carbs in pasta and bread. It ignited the food critic inside you, because now you were cursing the hotel chef and dreading having to order breakfast in the morning. No, dinner. You were having breakfast with your father tomorrow.
Scott was busy conducting his own business, bluetooth turned off but still glancing over his shoulder once in a while to check on you guys. Each time he did, he felt butterflies flutter in his breadstick-filled stomach. It was the first time he had seen the two of you so carefree, let alone with each other, and it was the most refreshing thing in the world.
Steve was in the middle of telling another childhood story, his main plate already finished and practically licked clean. But the unlimited breadsticks were coming out by the pound, a new stick in each of your hands every five minutes.
“I swear, she loved Bucky more than me!”
You covered your mouth and chewed, careful to not let anything through because of your giggle fit. “Steve! Your mother did not!”
Steve wiped at his under eye, clutching his chest as he continued explaining. “Bucky was always around and my mom would just linger every second she wasn’t working!”
“Bet she loved him.”
“See?”
“No, I mean she must have loved him like her own! Bucky was your best friend, your only friend. She probably thought of him like an angel sent from God!” you clarified.
Steve smiled wider at your cheesy explanation. They were happy memories, joyful ones that he would often think about while writing or drawing.
He continued with a soft confession. “I really wish I could see her again.”
You leaned your temple on your palm, “From everything you’ve shared with me, she sounds lovely.”
“She would have loved you.” The blush was back, and so was Steve’s, almost like those words were supposed to be kept in the back of his head. He cleared his throat. “God, she was so destroyed when Bucky first got his orders.”
“Was Bucky scared?”
“Scared? Absolutely fucking terrified. We talked about running away and changing our names so he didn’t have to go.”
The draft was such a horrible practice. The fact that men still had to enlist and hope no ‘necessary’ war was upon them. It was quite reassuring to know most of those men wouldn’t have to see battle today, they were given a choice, and there were agencies that managed people who could, like the Avengers.
“Steve…”
Steve just hummed softly, “Life in the forties, am I right?
Your voice also got quieter. “Why didn’t you run away?”
Steve huffed out a laugh, swallowing the last of his bread. “We tried. Got all the way to the edge of town before Bucky’s dad wrung us both back to kick our asses.”
Almost out of instinct, you gripped his hand again. You rubbed soothing circles into his knuckles, knuckles that hadn’t seen hand-to-hand combat in so long. There wasn’t much danger in the world nowadays, just small missions here and there. It wasn’t like the team was itching for another alien invasion. But these periods of well needed rest were odd, periods where bruises completely healed up and little pockets of weight were gained. Steve’s knuckles were soft, only having seen the ends of paintbrushes for a long while.
“...Where’s your mother?”
His voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you had to repeat the question in your own head a couple times.
“It’s not a happy story.”
There wasn’t much of a story anyway.
“But is it a story you need to get off your chest?”
Steve didn’t want to push too hard. The long pause in your relationship definitely didn’t soften this blow, and it only added to the strings of resistance. If you decided not to tell Steve about this, Steve would have to accept it. If anything, this was one of the toughest questions to ask someone when all you’ve been doing is ignoring them for two years.
“Not really much to get rid of.”
He nodded, only a slight hint of disappointment laced within his words. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Natasha was the only one with any knowledge of your mom. There was never an actual moment in which you freely spoke of her - inserting her likeness, her person, back into some alternate and fucked-up reality - you kept her legacy dead. It was obvious she hadn’t enjoyed this part of her life, no doubt it absolutely killed her to leave you trapped in it, so keeping her dead, even in conversation, was a favor.
But one drunken night and you were showing Natasha the one photo you had of her, stuffed deep in your wallet and crinkled beyond repair. Her black hair to her shoulders, lip liner a darker shade than her lipstick, hands intertwined behind her back as she arched forward in a playful tilt, shooting the camera a smile that was stuck around the word she was saying as the candid was taken. There was no recorded voice but you had a record of her movement, frozen in time.
Steve’s sincerity grasped you by the literal roots of your hair, because next thing you knew you were spilling the first thought you had.
“She was twenty-three. Working as a real estate agent, very beautiful, and she was engaged. To an American.”
Steve chuckled around his champagne glass, “Was that bad?”
You grinned at that, like he was already fully and deeply invested in your story. “Not necessarily. But everyone knew she was taken.”
“And your father?”
“He wanted to buy some houses. Saw her, wanted her, tried persuading her into going on a date. Nothing really worked, she didn’t accept his money or gifts.”
Steve fumbled over his next words. “Did she eventually?”
“No, but her brother did. My father didn’t know it was her brother, so he thought she was accepting them. Got mad when she still refused his advances.”
He was digesting this little by little. Steve had heard horror stories of girls he grew up with, forced to marry at a young age when they were caught in a passionate moment with a man, or when they ended up pregnant. Bucky and his mother had always instructed him to treat women with respect, to never intentionally or accidentally ruin their reputation, to protect and use his voice to stand up for them. And although women weren’t getting frisky with him when he was all but ninety pounds at the ripe age of twenty, that didn’t stop Steve from exchanging a few words and punches with men who had no right. “How did they end up together?”
You shrugged, reaching over for another breadstick. “No one knows. He invited her to a party one day and she didn’t come back for a whole week. Next thing her family knows she’s engaged to my father and no longer with the love of her life.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah, her family had no choice but to accept that. Her poor fiance, though.”
“Where is he now?”
Steve had this weird hope that the fiance may still be alive somewhere, waiting for your mother to find him. But that was just the hopeless romantic emerging.
You sighed deeply, “My father told my mother he killed him. My mother believed him.”
“So, he’s still alive? He didn’t hurt him?”
“Apparently he’s still kicking, yeah. But my mom became severely depressed from that lie.”
The restaurant felt colder and the air became thinner. Steve didn’t want his next thought to be true. “She didn’t...?”
You shook your head quickly, “No, she found out he was alive.” Even if you weren’t witness to it, you could still imagine your mother charting the areas she would have to run and swim through to get away. Wasn’t like it was a heartfelt thought, but the mere fact that she had that much determination to risk her life for love, it was somewhat therapeutic to think about. Like it was genuinely satisfying to imagine her defying your father. Still, your face drooped as you gave Steve the sad conclusion. “She didn’t even make it across the border before he had her killed for betraying him.”
His face fell in time with yours, “Fuck.”
“She left me with Maribel’s mother. But my father found me and told me she had an accident. Didn’t find out the truth until I was thirteen.”
“I’m so sorry.”
You shoved his shoulder with yours, a light chuckle cutting through the sad moment. “Not like you had a hand in this, Steve. It’s just my life.”
You were used to Steve’s generosity, his ability to make any person feel a part of his family - you had been on the receiving end of his sincerity for the past week now. But as you held his gaze, his body seemingly towering over yours, your chest flushed with such warmness, a tranquil promise of safety. He leaned forward, breath hitting your cheeks, hand still gripping yours.
“Not anymore. We’ll end this, Y/N. I promise you, we’ll end this.”
You took a risk and rested your forehead on his, his continuous promise still causing your stomach to twist pleasurably. “How’d we get so sad all of a sudden?” You pushed away and threw your arms in the air. “We need more breadsticks!”
Steve laughed loudly, the private booth still providing somewhat of a thin curtain to the other diners. “No, we need mints!”
Rolling your eyes, you blew your breath at Steve teasingly. “Weak.”
Steve groaned, “You and Scott are not getting into the car without chewing on a mint.”
“You got a thing against bad breath?”
“Take the mint.”
“I’m gonna fight you if you force the mint on me.”
He was reaching into his jacket and pulling the small case out. He winked at you. “I’ll win.”
He popped open the cap and held it out to you. He didn’t tip it though, as if he was waiting for you to extend your palm. Everything was silent for a minute, eyes challenging one another.
He could easily lean in. He could easily just tilt his head a little to his left and capture your lips with his. Every damn molecule in his body was telling him to do it, every bubble from that champagne somehow giving him some extra courage.
Your breath hitched slightly, and he leaned away. I’m such a coward, he thought.
You reacted swiftly, disguising the awkwardness. “You’re right, give me the mint. You should swallow like three.”
Steve snickered, “You ruined the moment.”
But you didn’t ruin the moment. And he just blamed you for it. Like he had already established - he was a coward.
You grabbed the mints he offered and popped them into your mouth. “What moment? I didn’t see any moment.”
Okay, he could just lean in right now and hope the mint freshness in your mouth would mask the garlic in his. Yeah, he could just lean in and do what he’s been thinking of doing for the last day and a half-
“Hey, you guys finished? Getting dessert?”
Steve almost shot from his seat, “Jesus fucking christ, Scott!”
Scott slid into the seat across from you. “You scare easily. Let’s get dessert!”
You were too flustered. Fine, okay. You’ll play along. If the gods want to reward you with this fun Steve, the Steve you were closest to years ago, then so be it. You’ll bite. And if he wants to resort back to his bitchy self, his hermit behavior, then you’ll fight him then.
Scott ordered so much dessert.
So much.
The little moment you had with Steve was still fresh, you could sense he was thinking about it too, but you opted to simply enjoy the night out. You were here with two friends, protection was just a phone call away, and you were safe.
Perhaps Scott had the same effect on Steve that he had on you. Absolutely demolished his ‘Captain’ self and released the guy who simply wanted to enjoy a mini road trip with his friends.
You were barely fifteen minutes into your ride home when Scott lowered the windows and turned the radio up high.
“Woohoo!”
You screamed over the loud roar of the wind, “Scott, it’s fucking freezing!”
Scott yelled back, “We just had three desserts each! Your blood should be running warm!”
You blinked away the dryness, “Dude!”
Steve, surprisingly, agreed with Scott. “Enjoy it!”
Your mouth dropped open and you followed Steve’s movements as he turned the radio higher.
The music blared and you were about to protest again, the air literally nipping at your sensitive cheeks, but the song that started was a non-skip.
You would indulge in this childishness once.
Once.
You reached around the passenger seat and gripped Steve’s shoulders, shaking him in place. “Ah, California radio giving us the classics!”
Scott leaned over and turned it up higher.
You swayed in your seat and sang along with Scott. “Bidi bidi bom bom!”
Scott pointed at you and recited the lyrics, “Bidi, bidi!”
Both of you sang, “Bom!”
Even with his eyes on the road, Scott was nailing some good dance moves in his seat. You both sang each lyric with your heart and soul, laughs escaping during the guitar breaks.
Steve just enjoyed the show. He didn’t know the song, the melody a foreign one for him, but it must have been popular for both you and Scott to know it. He watched you sway in your seat, hands dancing and voice matching the volume of the radio. Just the other night, you had mentioned how you never sang anymore.
But here you were, singing through the most beautiful smile Steve had ever seen.
He missed the sound of it. He missed hearing you sing in your room, no doubt you were dancing too since he usually heard your feet shuffling against your carpet. He missed the innocence you would casually portray, an invitation for anyone to befriend you. He missed teasing you lightly, and he regretted the roughness of his voice years later. He missed just walking into the common area and finding you there, cooking for yourself and anyone who wanted a plate - that plate usually for him. He missed you.
You were right here, voice hitting those octaves Steve didn’t think he would ever hear again. You were right here, and he missed you.
Scott was staying in a separate room. The dessert and alcohol had run right through him, and he bid you goodnight after he threatened to plop down in your bed if you invited him in.
The sound of Scott’s retreating footsteps seemed to suck all the air from the vents at once, whispering its song lovingly in your ear. It was both refreshing and terrifying to be left alone because now here you were, standing outside your hotel door with the super soldier you had gone to Hell and back with.
You inwardly cringed, the tightness in your chest sending your childish ass back to sophomore year of college. A first date, the lost promise of another - a proper teenage reaction to a crush. But this man in front of you wouldn’t let you delete his number from your phone; he wouldn’t avoid eye contact in the dining hall; he wouldn’t sit at the back of the lecture hall just to keep a necessary distance.
Granted, Elijah - poor, frightened Elijah - had seen you literally kidnap someone off the street under your father’s orders. This being before you went straight and moral, before you had met Fury, before SHIELD training. You were to blame for that sprouting relationship going south pretty quickly. So you avoided him, too - praying Ernesto or Seda could never track him.
But Steve, beautiful Steve who reloaded your guns when you couldn’t, who jumped in front of stray bullets for you and those he loved, Steve who very quietly asked you for various salsa recipes when he was in the mood to cook. Here he was, eyes also watching Scott walk away, no doubt experiencing the same tight coil within his chest. He hadn’t run, he had worked and fought with and against you, and he wasn’t running away.
No, Steve Rogers never ran.
The low beep from the hotel lock snapped you from your thoughts. You sensed his hesitance because when your history was truly reviewed with the most unbiased of minds, there was absolutely no reason to overthink. Hell, when you ran through the halls of Thor’s Asgardian palace with Rocket tailing you, the first joke out your mouth was how Steve would probably instruct you to respect a place like that and speed walk. Your first thought when starting the pilot episode of a new show is to wait for Bucky… and Steve, who would pop the kernels over the stove and add real salt and butter.
His first thought as he helped load people onto the planes in Sokovia was that your whiny ass better be on one of them. Or when Steve regrouped in the support circle, his first thought before he continued the discussion was that he really hoped you would walk through those doors and join - until one day you did.
Whether the two of you recognized the severity of your unspoken feelings, they were there. Silent and at a gradual increase. Never rushed, not entirely obvious because of the temporary roadblocks of unnecessary separation.
Steve was here in front of you, like he always was, and he was wearing the smallest nervous smile you had ever seen.
And you were here in front of him, like you always were, and he could not entirely read the mixed emotions on your delicate face.
You shuffled alongside your bed, stopping to shrug out of the heavy jacket you had on. “We should turn in early so we can be well-rested, in case we gotta fight tomorrow.”
Steve nodded in agreement but remained silent, hovering near the coffee table and monitors. Your back was facing him and he just watched you fumble with your boots and belt. It was like your back was on fire, bursting with fueled flames as you could literally feel his gaze boring into you. The overwhelming urge to simply snap and ask him what the hell he was looking at was strong, so in character, but you refrained. It was too intimate, too quiet, but before you could even ask him if he wanted the shower first, the warmth of his chest was near, inches away and calling.
Your breath hitched, shoulders rising slightly and exactly what Steve needed to witness. It was awkward for him to just stand behind you with no actual intention of touching you first - no, he needed a proper signal. So Steve waited those few precious seconds more until you turned, sun-kissed by the California sun and hair no longer in tight curls, before he glanced down at your glossy lips. You followed his eyesight, all knowing in his intentions, and you glanced at his lips as well.
A gesture of approval.
Steve pulled you in, both hands settling on your cheeks, thumbs exploring the corners of your mouth. He watched them dance and how your mouth parted slightly in response. He looked back up, studying the small crease forming in between your eyebrows and the pinch of water filling the inside corners of your eyes.
His thumbs felt like a gentle sigh, a promise of a sweet caress in both the daytime and dead of night. Although all his focus was on you, his own features reacted to the moment. His lips were also parted, sweet breath with the scent of those classic tiramisu’s he had devoured, touching the tip of your nose and equally trembling lips.
So goddamn intimate that you found yourself internally cursing those sitcoms Wanda had forced you to binge watch. Because the two love interests, albeit they had several months or years of growing tension, rushed into their first kiss for the sake of limited airtime. They didn’t prepare you for practically a ten-year build-up, a relationship that was both heavily work and friend related, the slowness of such a moment fans would most certainly be jumping out of their seats for. No, nothing could have prepared you for the warmth of Steve Rogers.
Your Captain.
You registered the soft feeling of his lips as they pressed against yours, overlapped only slightly. Eyes now fully closed in surprise and pleasure, you leaned into it more, hands placed on Steve’s rising chest. The squeeze of his hands cupping your cheeks caused your lips to pucker more, but you were relaxed in his desperate touch. He tilted his head a little to the left, your lips sliding against each other’s and noses bumping. Steve frowned in concentration, pouring whatever emotions he had felt throughout the last few years into this one kiss, and he knew he couldn’t possibly fully portray them. And almost as quickly as you thought about how sweet and innocent of a kiss this was, Steve’s tongue slowly peaked out from behind his teeth and greeted your bottom lip.
His tongue traced over your bottom lip warmly, welcomed by yours as you followed his lead. God, you would always follow his lead.
You tried to move in closer, but your elbows were already bent fully against him and his hips were only a few inches from your greedy ones. One tiny step forward and you would be completely flushed against him - but you chose to respect the distance Steve created.
You let out a quiet whine, body shuddering as Steve applied more pressure. It was as if Steve had never heard such a sound - completely unexpected and causing him to pause momentarily. He leaned away a little, lips still barely kissing yours. He opened his eyes, gaze wandering from your flushed cheeks still squeezed between his palms and to your fluttering eyelids. The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he debated leaning forward again, to be selfish for once and to pass forth the trophy for ‘waiting too long’. But as you opened your eyes, no trace of regret or hate swimming inside your irises, Steve froze.
You were his friend. His friend who teased him about the paint streaks across his forehead, who followed his lead no matter how ridiculous the order.
He didn’t want you to inspect him further as well, so he shut his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. It was only then that he felt you settle back down from your tippy-toes.
You gulped loudly, throat dry and lips instantly craving him again. “Steve…”
Steve let go of your face and dragged his hands lightly down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head slightly, his breath now kissing your cheek. Although your cheeks were red, the absence of Steve’s palms made them cold.
He took a small step back, hands straining to stay on your skin as he reluctantly pulled them away. The absence of any warmth finally woke you from that intense daze and you frowned at Steve as he pulled away altogether. The instinct to reach out was there, and you cursed yourself for being so clingy.
“Steve?” you called again, voice hoarse but light enough to pinch at Steve’s fast beating heart.
He looked up and locked eyes with your confused ones. Oh, you’re gonna hate him for this.
He gave you a small and kind smile, one you had seen plenty of times when he was actually enjoying your company. He backed up to the door, gaze never leaving yours even as he reached for the handle and key card.
And he wanted to bring his hands back to your face to rub away that wrinkle between your furrowing eyebrows. But he simply opened the door and left you standing near the edge of your bed, flushed with a deep sense of longing and growing confusion.
Steve already knew the amount of heat he would receive from the moment gossip of the kiss spread. Whether he was first to tell or you were. Bucky’s going to kick his ass, for sure, no doubt about it. No matter his bond with Bucky, it could never excuse leaving you alone to unravel this situation. You had this hold over Bucky, a soft mutual understanding of mental torture, so this inevitable ass kicking would be justified. Plus, after years of being rejected over and over, mostly in the forties, Bucky might just kick his ass for simply being a dumbass.
But Steve felt calm, an added relaxation due to the whiskey cooling in his hand. If there was anything Steve was an expert in, it was overthinking. You two had that in common - were you overthinking while absentmindedly watching TV? Overthinking while rubbing shampoo into your scalp? Overthinking while angrily stomping your way down to the hotel bar to hand his ass back over to him?
He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see you burst through the doors.
“Anyone wanna start?”
Steve glanced around the circle of familiar and new faces. The group varied each week. Some people would try, share their anecdotes about lost loved ones, only to never show up for another session. Others often attended and never spoke, but they kept returning. Steve didn’t judge their choices - he couldn’t. No matter how many mornings he wanted to crawl back under the sheets and binge eat packaged foods, he never could. He had been at this job for two years. There was both pain and satisfaction in what he did. Sam would be doing this if he were here.
And he had to do this for Sam.
“My divorce was finalized yesterday.”
Steve looked over at the man who spoke first, a long-time member of this particular support group, and grimaced at his confession. The man couldn’t have been more than thirty, no wrinkles or gray hair, and he was ending a two-year marriage.
“I’m sorry, Michael.”
The man, Michael, shrugged sadly, “We still love each other, man. But seeing your newborn disintegrate in your arms does something to your soul that’s just… we both knew we needed to move on. Even if it was from each other.”
Steve squeezed the small, red stress ball in his hand and tried to offer more condolences and a kind smile, but it came out rather painful. He opted to stay silent in case Michael wanted to continue. Instead, another member decided to comment.
It went like this for almost an hour with Steve adding in his empathetic words of wisdom whenever he saw appropriate. It was good for everyone to share so openly, to carry the conversation with minimal involvement from Steve. Steve had shared snippets of his story with the group awhile back, careful to not mention the gruesome specifics. He had let out as much as he was able, not as much as he would have liked, but his main job was to facilitate. Besides, Steve went to confession every month to talk to someone - anyone - even if he wasn’t necessarily Catholic. But that’s just the thing - no one knew who they were anymore.
The sound of a scraping chair leg caught everyone’s attention, and they all turned to the entrance in search of the disruption. You paused in your movements, face scrunched in embarrassment. Opening one eye, you mouthed a quick apology and rushed to carry the chair to the circle.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Subway was a bitch,” you muttered, your embarrassed smile growing wider.
For over a year, Steve had subtly urged you to attend one of these meetings. He was witness to your nightmares, your destructive solo missions that even Friday had no records of, and your sudden breakdown last week. You were casually jogging around the outdoor track when you suddenly stopped and fell to your knees, broken sobs seeming to shake the trees around you. You were crouched for a good minute before Steve had seen you wipe your eyes and continue your jog. As if nothing happened.
To see you here, whether to share or to listen, prompted the proud and erratic beating of Steve’s heart.
“It’s completely fine. Time’s almost up but we still got time for you.”
You sent Steve a funny smile, amused by his professional tone. “Uh, yeah! A friend convinced me to come. He was pretty persuasive.”
Steve blushed, head tilting downward.
You introduced yourself and let the group know you were also an Avenger. No one seemed shocked and you were suddenly grateful for this mixture of people.
Steve sat and listened, his nerves settling.
“I’m gonna be honest with you all,” you started, thumbs dancing in your lap. “And I’m not sure how you’ll react.”
Steve sat up straight, eyebrows scrunching as he listened intently.
You sighed, wetting your lips briefly. “The day before the snap, I was supposed to die.”
You wanted to avoid Steve’s gaze until the right moment. You continued, “I went on a mission to Mexico. Alone, which was completely against protocol but hey, we broke a lot more rules than that.”
Steve cleared his throat which earned a chorus of chuckles from the group.
“And I was technically on house arrest but I found out a way to temporarily disable that ankle monitor,” you added, grinning from the laughs you were receiving.
“Anyway, all my potential backup was nonexistent. I had friends on the run,” you paused, glancing at Steve with a somber expression. “And other friends literally fighting another battle on their home planet somewhere in space. So, I went alone.”
“While I was bleeding out from a bullet my own father ordered, Tony was already up in space. Loki was already dead.”
You hoped no one commented on Loki’s role in your life. He wasn’t exactly a nice figure to suddenly name drop in New York, but he was important in your grief.
It was slightly unnerving to be on display here, but you weren’t exactly planning on returning. You just needed to rant.
“I stitched myself up the best I could in that quinjet - which I almost crashed,” you muttered, smirking at Steve. “Sorry, Cap.”
“This is the first time I've heard you flew. You’re not even authorized to fly,” Steve declared, face scrunched in confusion and astonishment.
“That’s not important,” you teased. “But the stitches were messy work. Horrible criss-crosses.”
Steve was in a tiny state of shock. He had known what happened to you, but to hear you talk so casually about the day before the world went to shit - it just made it more real.
You had mentioned before that you never dreamed about the snap, but about everything leading up to it.
“I woke up, betrayed yet again by my own blood, and Steve was suddenly there after two years. We were gonna fight an outside threat.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed lightly, “I was still healing but I was on the battlefield. Stayed close to Nat most of the time.”
The group was heavily invested in your retelling. “I couldn’t fight him, obviously. But I did see him. I saw how he ripped that stone from my friend’s head.”
A few winces sounded around the circle.
“I guess I feel immense guilt. Like, I could have done something more even though realistically, I couldn’t. Kinda feels like I sat back and watched my friend’s die.”
No one spoke, but it was obvious everyone had survivor’s guilt.
“And now, I’m living with the pain of having all three of my best friends stripped from me while also celebrating the fact that the snap took my father.”
Shrugging, you gave your last sad smile to the group. “I feel guilty for what happened while also being grateful it took someone who deserved it.”
After a few seconds of silence, Steve spoke. “You’re here today to tell your story. No one has to agree or disagree with you. It’s your story. Tell it like it is.”
You chuckled, “I could easily bother Steve with this at the compound.” You smiled at the teenager clutching what looked like a stuffed animal in his lap. “But I had nothing else to do tonight. My only friends are gone.”
“You and Steve aren’t friends?”
This time it was Michael that spoke, his eyes bouncing from you to Steve. You turned to Steve for some kind of answer. Was it a yes? Were you more like coworkers than true friends?
Steve’s eyes softened and his kind smile was back.
You answered, “I guess. I did come here for him.”
Steve rolled his eyes and kept his light-hearted tone, “I’m really glad you did.”
Steve backtracked, clearing his throat as he addressed the circle. “I’m really glad all of you did. Same time next week.”
You busied yourself with stacking the chairs and dusting off your pants. Once most of the group had left, Steve gathered his things and walked over to you. “You take the subway?”
Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and you stacked the final chair high. “I did. You drive?”
Steve hummed in response, “Want a lift?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re not staying at your place tonight?”
“Nah, I haven’t seen Nat in a week. I should pay her a visit.”
He curled his jacket around your shoulders as you exited the building. You held it tightly, relishing in the comfort. The walk back to the car was quiet but not awkward. After such a heavy night, silence was most definitely needed. And just the comfort of being around someone you trusted added to the relaxation aspect of it all.
Steve kicked a loose piece of gravel to the street. You watched him for a few seconds before you spoke, voice light and a puff of cold air escaping your lips.
“Steve?”
He turned to you and waited for you to continue speaking.
“You know Sam would be so proud of you doing this, right?”
Steve watched the cold air leave his own lungs as well. He felt the weight of that statement pressing down on his shoulders as he looked up at the dark sky. “I know.”
Steve knew he was utterly fucked, so fucked that any line that had been established was stepped over and kicked a thousand yards back. His mind was made up, he would not run, he would not succumb to some former mindset 2016 Steve would have fallen victim to. He was a new person, a completely different person than he was out of the ice and after the snap. He deserved to cross the line, he deserved whatever happiness was afforded to him - he deserved comfort in the arms of another after years of denying himself.
He downed the rest of his drink with a loud gulp, mind made up, and headed back to your room.
It was best to just pretend it never happened… no? But did you want to pretend it never did? So many moments over the years where this could have happened, where either of you could have literally just said ‘fuck it’. As overthinking was a specialty, quite a useless skill, you thought about the countless fights you had.
Red in the face, hands clenched until nails imprinted little crescents, absolutely seething at the mouth. Some of the things you would yell were vile, none at all honest but with the intent to cause pain for only a moment, and mumbled apologies later. You were literally enemies for these past two, long years. Enemies who had to be seated and scolded, tricked into accepting defeat and living as teammates once more.
Perhaps one of those arguments could have been remedied by simply leaning in like you had tonight, by throwing each other against the wall, by pulling the roots of your hair as he tugged-
Nope.
Nope.
No matter how much tension you were now realizing you had for this man, tension that could literally be fucked out, wasn’t it too late to act on it? You couldn’t pinpoint the chance you maybe had and missed.
Steve walked through the door in the middle of your rapid brainstorming. He just grinned sweetly and slipped into the bathroom.
As simple as that.
Now you couldn’t discern between the feelings of wanting to fight him or fuck him. Not being able to differentiate between them ignited a sour mood, and once he stepped out from the shower, you basically pushed him to the side to lock yourself in.
Even the warm water hitting your body couldn’t alleviate the pressure of overthinking. You disregarded your hair tonight and instead just washed your body. As quick as you could jump back out and go to bed, the better.
Sucking in a deep breath, you opened the door and shut off the bathroom light. Your eyes landed on Steve’s torso, shirtless and the only thing not covered by the white blanket. He hadn’t shaved his beard either, the length evident when he kissed you earlier. It felt wrong and right at the same time, a battle that you seriously did not want to deal with. To get involved with your mission partner was dangerous - not because Steve himself was dangerous, but because it was a giant distraction. A distraction that you couldn’t afford.
But as he put down his book and lay it in his lap, looking up to look at you through hooded eyes, sleepy but alert, the ‘danger’ was nothing but enticing.
You cleared your throat and padded down your pajama shorts absentmindedly, slinging your hair over one shoulder and focusing on plugging your charger into your phone. It was so silent besides your pitter-patter, and god, did Steve find that sound so relaxing, until you climbed into bed. Once your shuffling was done, the slight buzzing of Steve’s desk lamp drowned out all your other senses. And the longer it was heard, the more it sounded like a ticking clock.
Steve shut the lamp off, the only light now illuminating your figure from outside. He studied your breathing, watching how every so often you would bring your hand up to scratch your cheek or move a stray hair. You looked so gentle, so inviting, so small.
You were turned away from him and facing the wall, eyes shut as you listened to his movements. There was a small part of you that wanted to stay up all night talking, to lean on his shoulder and simply feel his warmth, to feel that beard against your cheek one more time. As quickly as those thoughts flashed through your mind did you scold yourself, that this was inappropriate and wrong and so dangerous.
You felt a dip in your bed, heavy and unsure, a lift of your blankets, and it happened so quickly that you could have sworn you dreamt it. Steve wrapped his arm around you, his broad chest pressed tightly against your back and his lips attacked the skin just below your earlobe. Your breath hitched, eyes shot open, and your hands reached up to grip his wrist. Steve stilled.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, lips hovering over your blushing skin and breath practically blistering. You could feel him now, hard and pulsing against your ass and ready to move. You felt dizzy, overcome with such a rush of desire that you couldn’t help but stiffen in his tight grasp.
“Don’t,” you choked out, feeling his body become rigid and his breath begin to quicken.
“I’m sorry I-” he began to move away from you, voice no longer a whisper and tainted with panic.
“No,” you pulled back, tilting your head up to lock eyes with him. You brought your arm up to grasp the back of his head, and you tugged it back to your neck. “Don’t stop.”
Yeah, he was utterly fucked. “Fuck,” he groaned, continuing the attack on your neck. But he gained momentum now, arm squeezing you against him tighter, and voice cracking as he moaned your name.
“Steve, please do something.”
Your hands found their way back to his arm, gripping it tightly as he fumbled with the waistband of your shorts. He played with it, teasing in his actions, almost as punishment for the years you tormented him with your attitude. His lips pressed harder now, finding each patch of available skin on your neck and flushed cheek, and Steve has never felt so aroused in his life. He wasn’t even inside you, but the quick gasps he heard from you did plenty in aiding the rush of blood from his head to his stiffening cock.
“Tell me what you want. Please, tell me and I’ll give it to you,” he moaned, the slightest experimental role of the hips causing you to whimper.
“Touch me,” you practically sobbed, rolling your hips back against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt all of him.
And just like that, he gave you what you asked for. He gripped your hip and shoved you closer to him, hot and ready and pressed firmly against you. He rolled his hips into you, little whimpers of his own touching your sensitive ear. He quickened his pace and he found it hard to think straight when the scrunch of pleasure all over your face, making you look so willing, was all he was focused on. He focused on the way you bit your lip, a bite and then a gasp, and then you were back to biting as if you were trying to restrain any higher moan. And even with only the moonlight illuminating the room, he could see the sun-kissed color of your skin and the bruising he was causing. He kept his mouth on you as he rocked himself against you, indulging in a few more selfish seconds of pleasure before becoming his generous self.
He dipped his hand into your shorts and found the sweet nub that so desperately needed attention. His brain almost short circuited, the feeling of his fingers finally sliding into your wet lips making his throat dry. He drew little but skilled circles, each twirl of his index and middle finger in unison with the grind of his hips. Your mouth fell open by such pleasure, and you braced yourself by placing your left palm on the mattress and pressed down, nails scratching the cotton fabric and alerting Steve of your excitement. You pushed back against him, timed and in perfect harmony.
You knew the room wasn’t on fire, but even if it was you didn’t think to check.
“Keep talking to me, Y/N. Keep talking to me,” Steve begged, each rotation of his hips gaining pressure. His eagerness prompted you to reach back up and grab him by the hair, yanking his head to your tilted one and smashing his lips against yours. Steve gasped at the pleasant sting, somewhat surprised with himself that he liked that form of roughness. But who was he to judge his kinks when the tip of your nose was turning redder, the blush in your cheeks mixed with barely visible silver droplets of sweat, and a purple outline was beginning to form on your plump upper lip?
The kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, but still beneficial in getting Steve to rut against you even harder.
He could so easily pull your shorts down and enter you, and if he was anything like he felt, then you knew it would sting. But you craved that sting and stretch, the thought of him inside you causing another gush of desire to leak from you. Steve dipped his finger deeper into you only to accumulate your juices and spread them higher. He went back to rubbing expertly, actions gaining speed to match your whimpers.
“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned louder, and you swore you felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You pressed back harder, his hand rubbing and pressing down on your stomach simultaneously. Your head felt cloudy, the pleasure coursing through your veins and to the very tips of your toes. “Oh, my fuck.”
Steve paused his fingers to trail his hand back up your stomach and to your breasts, pulling your tank top down to spill them. The sounds leaving your throat set him on fire, desire pulsing everywhere - his head, his heart, his aching cock that was pressed so closely against you that he could feel you vibrating. He pinched your nipple and rolled it, closing his eyes in response to your dirty purrs. “Let me make you come, doll.”
“Wasn’t that the point?” you quipped, ass tilting at an angle that caused Steve to choke. He growled from the attitude he couldn’t believe you still fucking had during a moment like this and kissed you roughly, both your broken moans molding into one. His hand returned to your shorts.
“Do that again,” he begged, hitching his leg up to rest on yours. The angle allowed him to drive his hips even harder. You maneuvered to provide the same tilt, grinning at the pleasurable cries that left your Captain’s mouth.
“I think I’m gonna make you come first,” you chuckled and took his bottom lip between your teeth. You pulled lightly, concentration still in the circle of your hips. He looked back down at you, determination and undeniable lust in his eyes. He thrust his aching cock against you, sliding himself over your ass. He did it hard but slow, the pressure applied giving the head of his cock such a sweet squeeze as he bumped it against the curve of your lumbar spine.
The heavy duvet was abandoned now, cold air from the hotel air conditioner failing in cooling you down at all. You both had a thin sheet of sweat on your clothed bodies, goosebumps standing proudly, and lips all plump and red from your harsh kissing.
Steve held you so close, so tight, and his fingers were drawing such rushed and tiny circles that you swore his wrist had to be cramping up. But the sound of both your whimpers started to mesh together, alerting you of such a sweet climax up ahead.
“Steve, fuck, fuck, ohh,” you mewled, voice now high pitched and yes, it turned Steve on incredibly but it also fueled you. Your pornographic moans ignited an even deeper desire within you, just the true fact that Steve was touching you, Steve was getting you to make these sounds, Steve is actually hearing these sounds, Steve is making the same exact sounds.
“I-, please, come for me,” Steve pleaded, cock twitching with each thrust as he neared his end. “Make me come.”
His begging, his equally high voice, his skilled fingers rubbing rapidly and the slight pain from that, his breath burning your neck, were all too powerful, their combinations causing the fire in your core to explode and make you see white in a flash, black dots later clouding your vision. Your nails dug into his moving arm, crescents branded into him. You clenched around nothing, walls fluttering and thighs shaking as they pressed around his hand and fingers.
The inappropriate squelching sound of your juices spreading as your thighs clenched around his cramping fingers, the slide so sensual and dirty, had Steve rutting against you one, two, three more times before he came in hard but long spurts. His mouth hung open, breath still fanning your neck, and his eyes were so tightly shut that the force was enough to strain them.
“Oh, fuuuck, yes, yes!” Steve groaned, his body taking longer than usual to recover. His orgasm was powerful, more powerful than when he got himself off in the shower or in the comfort of his bed at night, and he knew it was because you clouded his senses. Of course, there was an added benefit to getting off with someone else, aiding that person in the same endeavor, but because it was you, it made the climax even more forceful, more intense. The whole situation was both unexpected and calculated, gentle and rough, and Steve’s heart was beating so fast by the thought of what just occurred that he found himself wanting to spill into you all night long, and to apologize for overstepping an unspoken boundary.
You could feel the wetness of both your own release and Steve’s, head still cloudy from such a sharp orgasm. You hummed in satisfaction, reaching your arm over once again to lift his head up by his hair. He hissed at the pull now, his body all fucked out and satisfied. “You good?”
Steve gave you a lazy smile, chest heaving in unison with yours. “I’m okay. You?”
“I’m good.”
Steve scanned your face for any regret just in case your words held other meaning, but all he could see was your satisfied expression, cheeks still flushed pink, hair tangled, and pupils dilated. He hesitated for a second before he leaned down and connected your lips, molding his with yours slowly and chastely. You both sighed at the feeling, highs now lowering and the coldness from the air conditioner causing a different set of goosebumps to appear. Steve pulled away, giving you one last peck as if testing the waters, and rested his forehead against yours. You both relished your post-orgasm bliss for a few silent minutes before cleaning up.
You shared playful shoves as you cleaned up. It was almost innocent, a huge contrast to the sinful activities you two had just committed, but there was a genuine feeling of understanding in the room. Your heart clenched at the simple sight of Steve washing his hands, eyes meeting his in the mirror, a soft look in his that startled you.
You gave him a smile so as to not alert him of your reaction, and exited the bathroom to climb back into bed. You drew the heavy duvet back over your body and cuddled in it deeply, chin hidden underneath and back facing Steve’s bed. It was a few more minutes before Steve came back into the room, shutting the light off, and looking at your resting form. He wanted to climb back in with you and hold you innocently, to have the feeling of your warm back against his broad chest, gentle exhales tickling the arm that would wrap around you. But he just looked back and forth from your bed and his, and he decided to not push the boundary further. He hesitated with this decision, but climbed into his own bed, the feeling of his cold sheets making him immediately regret it. He shuffled silently, his body facing yours.
You wanted to lay beside him too. But whether you were making a smart decision or an absurd, cowardly one, one thing was certain: you could no longer ignore the stacking of such emotions you had for this man.
It almost angered you, how much you denied yourself of even a simple crush for literally ten years, and it made you mad at Steve, too. Because if he hadn’t pushed you away, then maybe you could have accepted this sooner.
~
TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress
#Steve Rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#captainsimagines#by Moni#ttag#part five#chapter five#captain america x reader#reader x steve rogers#steve rogers x you#marvel fanfiction#enemies to lovers#to topple#a giant#angst#mob fanfic#read the warnings#avengers x reader#mini-series#reader insert#Smut#trigger warnings listed
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.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ephemeral ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+
summary: sometimes things don’t go according to plan
warnings: tartaglia / gn!reader | angst
word count: ~1530
sfw content under the cut | 18+ | minors dni
“here, let me help with the silverware.” his mom had cooked a spread of food fit for a banquet, the least you could do was help set the table. you were curious as to the occasion, you could feel the excitement thrumming through the air. whatever it is has to be big. even his older siblings were present, a feat in itself.
“oh nonsense, darling. you’re a guest, i couldn’t possibly let you do that. go sit with your honey at the table, we’ll be ready in just a couple of minutes.” she shoos you out of the kitchen with a smile and you laugh and do as she had said. when you sit next to ajax, he’s tense, a little fidgety. you quirk an eyebrow at him, a silent ‘are you okay?’ to which he responds by taking your nearest hand in his and squeezing gently.
he brings your joined hands together and presses a kiss to several of your knuckles, his younger siblings groaning and ‘ew’ing at him being mushy and earning a laugh from the two of you. you stick your tongue out at them playfully and they all giggle, teucer and anthon stick out their tongues while tonia rolls her eyes and laughs.
moments later, the last of the main meal has arrived at the table and everyone begins to dig in hungrily. you all make easy conversation with each other, having been acquainted for so many years.
before long everyone is finished eating and the topic of dessert is brought up. ajax’s mother laughs and agrees to bring it out momentarily, but states there’s something important that needs to be said first.
ajax shares a look with his parents and the three of them come to an understanding or agreement of some kind, his father nods at him approvingly. ajax stands up and away from his chair and you look up at him.
“we’ve been in each other’s lives for so long now, that i feel like this may be long overdue. i remember back when we were still mischievous children, causing trouble for the townspeople, getting into trouble almost daily; but we’ve always had each other’s backs.”
you smile at him and nod.
he continues, “you’ve seen me at my worst; you comfort me on the bad nights when i wake up in a cold sweat, when i’m still stuck in my nightmares. you hold me and bring me back to you, back to reality, never angry over losing sleep. you always treat me with such care and unwavering kindness, even when i’m not quite myself and far beyond a pain to deal with. i won’t pretend i’m perfect, and i’m so incredibly happy that you choose to stay with me despite my shortcomings.”
you realize that his family are all sitting at the edges of their seats, his younger siblings bouncing excitedly in their chairs, his older siblings smiling on with what appears to be immense pride.
“it warms my heart to see how well you’ve fit into our family, how much you all love each other. you’re so good with my siblings despite their troublemaking nature, you keep up with their energy and sometimes i’m not even sure just how you manage to. you’re patient with them when their natural curiosity gets the better of them and they fire question after question at you.
you’re so patient with me, even when it comes to my work. i remember when i had to cancel our vacation plans due to an unexpected deployment, you were understanding and compassionate. you had every right to be angry, but you weren’t. i know with work, i’m always sent so far away for so long, but you always wait for me. there were nights where i’d dream that i came home to an empty house, with you and all of your things gone, but you’ve always been there for me when i come back.”
he gets down on one knee and pulls out a lavishly decorated box with the ring of your dreams inside. it’s clear that he spared no expense.
i truly cannot picture my life without you in it, so would you do me the immense honor of marrying me?”
your throat feels dry, words failing to come to your lips. this is what you wanted, isn’t it? a doting man who loves you all of his heart down on one knee with the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen in your life. a man that you’ve loved for all of your life, one who’s always done his best to treat you right even when it was difficult for him. so why did this all feel so wrong? was it always this hot in here?
the room is quiet, waiting for your response, but you’re left reeling and unable to form a sentence. you can see the concern written all over his face, even when he’s nervous and vulnerable he’s worried for your well-being. the silence drags on for what feels like hours into something tense and uncomfortable but you still can’t bring yourself to answer him.
“sweetheart?” his tone is gentle, caring, worried, anxious, afraid.
‘i…” you can feel their eyes glued to you, watching, waiting. why does this feel so wrong? Your thoughts are racing, trying to pinpoint exactly why you feel this way. no logical reason comes to mind, so why? is it because it’s so sudden? is it because his whole family is watching? there’s no reason to say no, so why can’t you say yes?
“no,” you breathe out quietly, almost going unheard.
no.
“n-... no?” hurt and confusion settle themselves into his features. “i... is it the timing? we can wait until you’re ready, i won’t mind at all,” he offers, hope laced in with the fear. he’s trying so hard to maintain his composure. the two of you had only been dating for a little over a year, but you’ve been close all your lives. he would wait an eternity if it meant your happiness, he just wants to be by your side.
“no, ajax.”
no, ajax. your answer echoes in his head over and over and over again.
before he can piece his thoughts together, you rise from your chair, grab your things, and walk out the door. you leave him still kneeling on the floor, devastated, his heart pounding in his ears, he feels like he can’t breathe. he hasn’t felt this weight on his chest in months now, like something has reached into his lungs and crushed them, tightness barely allowing for any intake of air.
by the time he’s recovered and out the door after you, he has a fair bit of distance to cover and takes off running after you, frigid snezhnayan air stinging his lungs. once he’s close enough for you to hear him, he shouts for you.
“wait! please!” you stop in your tracks, wait for him to catch up. he’s panting and out of breath, but he doesn’t stop to catch his breath before speaking. “please, can we talk about this? was there something i did wrong? i just… please, please help me understand. you’re important to me, i love you. please let me fix this.” you can hear the desperation in his tone.
he’s trying so so hard to hold himself together, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. he tries to blink them away, but they just end up falling, freezing to his cheeks.
“ajax... i…” you trail off, uncertain of what to say to him. “..you didn’t do anything wrong.” he inhales shakily and opens his mouth as though he’s about to say something, but you begin walking away from him before he can. he doesn’t move to follow you.
“then why?” you continue walking. “is there anything i can do to fix this?” you stop and turn back to him. he’s a man on the brink of ruin, you mean the world to him.
i truly cannot picture my life without you in it, so would you do me the immense honor of marrying me?
“...”
“please..” he looks like he’s going to fall apart on the spot. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so broken before. not even when he’s come home severely injured, not even when he came back from the abyss. his next words come out sounding utterly defeated, he seems to know there’s no changing your mind but he tries anyways. “i’ll do anything, please.. we can figure this out, we- we can-” he chokes out a sob, “please, talk to me.” tears are cascading freely down his face, any trace of the light that had been restored to his eyes in recent months flickering back out.
you shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “i can’t do this, ajax. i can’t do this anymore.” he crumples, landing hard on his knees; you can’t help but notice how dishearteningly adjacent it is to how he was just minutes before. he wants to understand, but you have no explanation to offer him.
and so he watches you walk away from him for the second time that night, for the last time.
#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#angst#｡･:*:･ﾟangst#｡･:*:･ﾟwriting#｡･:*:･ﾟsfw
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| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |
↪ ✦ sea castles ✦
this chapter pairing; yandere!woozi x reader, subtle jeonghan x reader
genre&warnings; merman!au, yandere!woozi, character death, dom!woozi/possessive!woozi, virgin!reader, overstimulation, oral(fem receiving), cheating, drugs/poisoning, kidnapping.
✖ That being said, I do NOT condone yandere-like/obsessive/possessive behaviour in real life. this is a work of fiction therefore I will indulge in it. If you do NOT like this kind of content, please just ignore it.
notes; Welcome to the first installation to Monster Mash, where we explore the strange and unusual with our monster fucker anonymous club! 👻 🎃 Let’s get spooky, bitches! As always, I just want to take the time to thank you all for the interest in Monster Mash! 😳 I was not expecting it tbh so thank you all so much!💕 also if the writing style of this seems weird just know that I wrote half of this in 2018 so some parts read different from my usual write style, in my opinion at least 😭 hehe~ anyway, enjoy this first chapter and I will see you all in the next! 😌✨
word count; ~5100
chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x
baby, why don't you see, see my sea?
make slow, get inside and pull on my sea
get inside and build your castle into me
Jihoon’s head breaks through the surface of water, sea foam momentarily blinding him as he frantically searches beyond the jagged rocks for any sign of his human companion. His fragile hands move slowly over the rocks. She’s late again, He thinks. Nothing new.
A sigh escapes his lips as he rests his head on one of the rocks, closing his eyes as he waits, a soft hum on his lips when he drifts out of consciousness.
When he wakes, he isn’t even aware he’s fallen asleep but the frantic thoughts that someone’s found him sends him into overdrive as his pale grey eyes sweep over the shore once again; eyes landing on a figure sitting not too far away.
“Jihoon you’ve fallen asleep on me again.” You chide. A blush forms on Jihoon’s cheeks as he ducks under the water momentarily, hoping the slight chill of the water will keep the heat from spreading to his face. “You’re late again”, he starts, “We agreed to meet here when the tower bell chimes for sun down every other nightfall, didn’t we?” There’s a moment of hesitation on his end but he wades through the water, carefully making his way towards you.
“I’m really sorry about being late, it was Jeonghan, I--”
Jihoon’s eyes flash a pale pink, tuning you out at the sound of his name. Jeonghan; the prince and your soon to be husband. Jihoon doesn’t like him, not one bit. “It’s fine! I’m just glad you could make it…” A pout on his lips as he picks a rock near your legs, propping his arms up onto it as he stares up at you and rests his chin on his folded arms.
“What were you up to today, Jihoonie?” You ask. Your fingers curl around the hem of your dress as you pull it further up your legs, not wanting it to get wet from the rising tide. He hums in thought, his eyes falling onto your bare legs.
“Um, well, Seungcheol-hyung and I went and checked out that sunken ship I told you about last week… There was still some stuff left inside so we brought it back to the castle!”
A smile graces your lips as you watch him talk animatedly; there was always something so calming about being around Jihoon. You fondly remembered the first time you’d met him. Scared and curious about the man peering at you from beyond the rocks, not knowing that he felt the exact same way that you did.
That had been a few months ago now and the two of you had become good friends, meeting every other night for a chat before anyone in the castle knew you were missing. He was handsome, kind and most of all, friendly.
“Hey, are you listening?” Jihoon pouts up at you, lips curling into a teasing smile when a blush forms on your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, I was zoning out thinking about how we met. Why don’t you start again, from the beginning?”
“You’re late.”
Jeonghan’s already a third of a way through dinner before you enter through the double doors. “Forgive me, I’ve--I’ve lost track of time.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he picks at his food; this was quite routine of you. “Isn’t that what you always say?” You take a seat across Jeonghan, grimacing when the wet hem of your dress touches your bare legs. “I like taking my time on my walks. It helps me clear my head.”
Jeonghan takes a sip of his wine, standing from the grandiose table as he makes his way down the length of it, to your side.
“You should be careful on those walks of yours. I’ve heard there’s dangerous creatures lurking around the edges of town. You wouldn’t want to get caught up in the crossfire, would you?”
“No, Jeonghan, I--I wouldn’t.”
“Jihoon-hyung!!”
Seungkwan swims over to Jihoon; a bright smile on his face when he reaches the older male. “Hey, are you alright? You seem upset.”
Jihoon’s pale grey eyes blink sadly, “I’m… okay. I’m just…”
“It’s that human again, isn’t it?”
It always is, Jihoon thinks. He was always glad for your friendship and your kindness, but he always craved for more. Even if the current circumstances didn’t allow it. “Well, yes. It’s just that... I wish there was a way I could get her to see me and not my… well, you know.” He chuckles sadly, watching the way Seungkwan mimics his sadness.
Jihoon liked Seungkwan.
Out of all of his brothers, he was always the most empathetic.
“She’s going to be married, hyung. To the prince, no less. She’ll be queen eventually once the king passes and Prince Jeonghan takes his place. Need I remind you she’s human and you’re not? You should be thankful she hasn’t exposed you yet.”
The older male grimaces at the thought alone. She’d never do that to me.
“I know, I know. It’s just going to take some time, that’s all. She’s not like the other royals on land… She’s a good person.”
Seungkwan wraps an arm around Jihoon’s shoulder; lips pursed in a tight smile. “You’re in line for the throne here as well, you know? The other hyungs don’t seem to care for the throne, but you, hyung, suit it well. You’ll find someone. I promise.”
The next morning, you wake up with a sigh on your lips.
I hate it here.
The only reason why you were to be wed to Prince Jeonghan was solely because both of your respective parents wanted to have a joint rulership of the western lands and needed successors down the line, should the time come. Neither you nor Jeonghan were necessarily happy with the idea, but Jeonghan had quickly taken a certain possessiveness over you that confused you greatly.
On most days, he seemed uncaring, even standoffish. But there were a few times since the announcement of your marriage where he seemed to have quickly taken the role of overbearing husband.
A knock at your door brings you out of your thoughts; a small ‘come in’ muttered just loud enough as an older handmaid pokes her head in.
“Miss, we should get you ready for the day. Prince Jeonghan would like your company for tea in the garden.”
That’s new.
“I’m telling you that Wonwoo is dangerous, Vernon! You need to be careful!”
Jihoon swims up to Seungcheol and Vernon in the heat of their conversation, brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on?”
Seungcheol lets out an exasperated sigh in return, “It’s that Wonwoo…”
Jihoon’s lips purse into a firm line. Not all mercreatures were gifted with magical abilities, but Wonwoo was one of the few that were. He granted anyone of their desires, whether the intentions were good or bad. As long as you paid the right price for it. Wonwoo lingered on the southern side of the underwater kingdom, tucked away within the giant kelp and crystal caves where most mercreatures knew to stay away from.
Although, the younger ones were always riddled with temptation.
“Vernon, what were you even doing over there?” Jihoon asks. The youngest exhales harshly, avoiding his hyungs’ piercing stares.
“I just---I was curious. That’s all.”
This time it’s Seungcheol who inquires, “About what, exactly?”
“Don’t you ever wonder what you would have to trade to be able to go on land, at least once?”
Jihoon clenches his jaw. He knew better.
He knew better.
Jeonghan waits patiently and never raises his voice.
Quite frankly, he’s not very good at it, he’ll admit.
However, what he does expect from you is your obedience and absolute loyalty to him, especially with your wedding just around the corner.
The last thing he wanted were the townspeople talking about a king with a disloyal and disobedient wife.
“You wanted to see me for tea?” Jeonghan looks up from his lap, noting you standing a few feet away with Mingyu, one of his guards.
“Yes, have a seat. Mingyu, you can go.” The taller male nods, pulling out the garden chair for you before he leaves. Jeonghan pours you a cup of warm tea, sliding the tea cup across the small table. “I spoke to my father earlier this morning before he left.” His eyes flit to you, already noticing the way the colour drains from your face at the simple mention.
“They want us to move the wedding closer. Next week, if possible.”
“I--wh--why exactly, may I ask?”
Jeonghan can hear the shakiness in your voice as he reaches for his own tea cup. “First of all, it’s not my choice. My father just requested as such and I expect you to fall in line as well. These nightly walks along the edges of town need to stop, immediately. I can’t have rumours flying around town about us. Am I clear?”
Your hands ball up into fists in your lap; tomorrow might be the last time you’d be able to speak to Jihoon.
“I--yes, I understand.”
When the tower bell chimes for sundown the next evening, you’re already waiting by the water’s edge.
You had to make it back in time before Jeonghan noticed you’d already snuck out.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
His half-hearted smile is enough to alert you that he hasn’t been having the best of days either. But you find yourself getting choked up as your vision blurs with each second; unshed tears making it hard for you to speak.
“I--I’m sorry, but---but I c-can’t come back here…” You whisper out. Jihoon’s eyes flash a pale pink as he leans up onto a rock closer to you.
“What are you talking about?”
“Jihoon, I’m---I’m getting married next w-week.”
Jihoon begs for forgiveness in his head.
Asks to be spared for the sin he’s about to commit.
He fumbles through the giant kelp; tail getting caught with each second he goes further and further into the murky depths until he comes across the crystal caves.
It would be just one time. He promises.
He finds the small opening in the cave, making sure nobody sees him when he swims in.
“Oh? To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Wonwoo’s voice is deep and matches the alluring smirk painted across his features when he spots Jihoon at the entrance. “Can’t say I’ve seen someone look so hesitant in a long while.”
Jihoon feels a sense of dread wash over him when he gets closer to the male, gulping down his second guesses as he opens his mouth to speak.
“T-to go on land. What… what would I need to--to trade.”
Wonwoo laughs loud enough for it to bounce off of the cave walls, head thrown back in absolute bliss.
“My, my. You sound more serious than the last one who came to ask.” He pauses, swimming down closer to Jihoon who backs away by nature. “You know, people offer me all sorts of things. Riches, jewels, even parts of themselves. All cliché when you think about it. And all things replaceable in theory.”
The twinkle in Wonwoo’s eyes lets Jihoon know he’s going to be in more trouble than he anticipated.
“No… what I want is something irreplaceable. Something that lets me know you really want this.”
Vernon will be missed.
But it was his fault for being so curious, they’ll all say.
He shouldn’t have asked Wonwoo.
He should’ve known better.
Just like Jihoon.
A few days have passed since the last time you see Jihoon and being castle-bound is eating away at you.
The wedding is in five more nightfalls and with each day, you find yourself more and more miserable.
“Miss, please turn to your left. We need to finish your wedding dress before the day is over.” Sighing, you do as told, facing the large mirror where you see the sadness in your eyes.
A sharp knock brings everyone’s attention to the door as one of your hand maids rushes to answer it.
This time it’s Seokmin, one of Jeonghan’s other guards and best friend, at the door. “I’m so sorry to disturb, however we have a guest. A Prince from… the east. Prince Jeonghan would like your company in the grand hall, immediately.”
Confusion crosses your features, but you nod, shooing Seokmin away as you already make efforts to get the heavy fabric off of you. It takes a good few minutes before you’re completely free and redressed in more casual attire and you all but rush down the hall, curious to see who the newcomer is.
The first thing you see is Jeonghan speaking to a slightly shorter male; a tight lipped smile on his face.
He catches you from around the corner, gesturing you forward.
“Ah, here she is. My wife, to-be.” The unknown male turns to face you and you feel your breath caught in your throat.
Jihoon? No…
He shoots you a knowing smile, reaching for your hand as he kisses the back of it. “It’s my pleasure. I’m Prince Jihoon. Of the East.” Your fingers feel clammy in his hold, confusion on your features even when you introduce yourself back to him in a low whisper.
“I can’t say I remember there being a Prince Jihoon from the east. Interesting.” Jeonghan comments. Jihoon chuckles lightly, releasing your hand as he turns to face Jeonghan once more.
“Yes, I’m quite sorry for my sudden arrival. You see, I never really was one for the throne or anything of the sort. No, I’m more into studies and books. However, there’s been a bit of a change in interests lately so I figured I’d come… and see what the world has to offer.” He shoots Jeonghan a smile, eyes forming crescents.
“I also do apologize, but would it be alright if I stayed here a few nights? Just before I head back to my own. I don’t have anywhere to stay and, well, I seem a little under-packed for my journey.”
Jeonghan bites the inside of his cheek, “I… suppose. Actually, our wedding is in five more days. Why don’t you stay until then. See how the town celebrates.”
Jihoon turns to you; a smirk on his lips as his eyes flash a pale pink.
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Jihoon stays in the bedroom across the hall from you, just a couple doors down.
You tell Jeonghan you’re not feeling too well and that you’ll be in your bedroom until you finally feel better; but the reality is that you slink off to Jihoon’s room when the coast is clear and the halls are free of Jeonghan’s guards.
You softly knock at his door, whispering his name until he opens the door for you; a giddy smile on his lips.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the princess. To what do I owe this honour?”
“Please, don’t---don’t play this game with me right now. What in heaven’s name is--how are you even here!?” You whisper harshly. Jihoon tugs you into his room, locking the door behind you as he presses you against it.
“I just… wanted to try something, that’s all. I thought you’d be happy to see me.” There’s a tinge of sadness in his voice and you can’t hold back the sigh that floats out past your lips.
“Please, Jihoon, I’m so incredibly happy to see you. It’s just, I---this is a big shock and with the wedding, it’s---and your legs, how---”
Jihoon cuts you off with a kiss, fingertips under your chin as he tilts your head up to meet his.
You immediately melt into the kiss, fingertips tangling into his soft hair.
Were you always attracted to Jihoon like this?
He eats up all of your soft and quiet moans as he presses you harder into the door, slotting a leg between yours just you finally find your senses.
“W--wait, I--no, we--we can’t, Jihoon…” You push him away as gently as you can; a soft pink coating your cheeks. “It’s just that Jeonghan--”
“Please, can we not speak about him.” Jihoon grumbles, stepping away from you as he makes his way towards the bed. “No offense, but it’s quite obvious that neither of you want to be in this marriage anyway. I don’t understand why you keep trying to defend him.”
You stand by the door, eyes fixated on the way Jihoon leans back on the bed. Mental images of you in his lap, naked and in absolute bliss flit through your mind in a split second.
“It’s---it’s not that, it’s just that... “ You’re unsure of what to say next; Jihoon was right in the fact that neither of you were too keen on the marriage but the two of you were also just following orders for the betterment of the kingdoms.
“I’m sorry, I should go, You should rest up, Jihoon. Dinner will be in a few hours.”
You turn to leave, body warm with thoughts you knew you shouldn’t have been having.
Jihoon can sense it too. The way your body craves his.
“I’ll see you later, princess.”
Dinner goes on without any issues, which you’re thankful for and Jeonghan and Jihoon seem to be on alright terms despite Jeonghan’s initial concerns and suspicions.
You retreat back to your room after a walk around the grounds to clear your head, hand on the doorknob of your bedroom when Jihoon comes barreling into your back.
“J--Jihoon, what--”
“Inside, now, sweetheart.”
You shuffle into the bedroom, turning to face Jihoon who turns the lock. “What are you doing?!”
“What we both want.”
A blush coats your cheeks as he walks you back towards the bed; his hands immediately finding purchase on your waist as he sits you down onto it. “Do you think I’m oblivious to what you want?” His voice drops an octave and you feel the arousal starting to pool in your lower half. “I--I---”
“You what, princess? Tell me what you want, what’s going on in that mind of yours.”
You know you shouldn’t, you know you should fall in line with Jeonghan and what your parents say.
But the other part of you just wants to be freed of all your responsibilities and expectations.
So you make a decision, gulping when you wrap a hand around Jihoon’s forearm.
“I want y-you.”
A soft moan floats through the air just as Jihoon sinks the first finger into your warmth, your fingers locking into his hair as his tongue flicks at your clit.
Jihoon knew more than you anticipated.
He smiles against your skin as he leans in closer, flattening his tongue against you as you bite your lip to hold in your noises when he drags the flat of his tongue through your folds.
“Such a shame, princess. I’d love to hear my name rolling off those pretty lips of yours.” He teases; curling his finger into you just right until it grazes against your sweet spot. Your legs clamp tighter around his head instead as Jihoon laughs.
“We’ll have to save it for another time. When we have more privacy, hmm?”
Another time?
Jihoon sucks your clit into his mouth as your hips cant up to meet his movements. He gently adds another fingers after a few more pumps; noting the way your walls tighten around them instinctively. You can feel the pressure building up when he starts to scissor and curl them just right, a shaky cry on your lips.
“Ji--Jihoon, ah, something’s---”
“S’okay, let it happen.” Mumbling, he doubles his effort, tongue flicking at your clit harshly as he works to throw you over the edge.
A choked sob gets caught in your throat when you cum on his fingers and tongue and he works you through it with patience and adoration. He slows down his fingers as you continue to ride your high, tongue still lapping at your clit in slower strokes until your fingers loosen their grip on his hair.
“Everything okay?” Jihoon murmurs, pulling his fingers from inside of you as he pulls away.
“Mm… Mmhmm…”
Jihoon sits up, wrapping his wet digits around his cock as he pumps himself. He smears the precum down his shaft; a soft groan on his lips.
“Do you still want me, princess?”
You nod shakily, watching as he scoots in closer. He runs the head of his cock through your soaking folds as you mewl quietly at the sensitivity your body feels. “If it hurts, just let me know, okay?”
Jihoon’s soft voice is enough for you to relax under his touch and he uses his free hand to wrap your leg around his waist before he positions himself at your entrance. His eyes dance up your torso until they land on your flushed face, grey eyes searching for any sort of hesitance.
“This is your last chance, princess. You can stop me here and we can forget this.”
Your heart pangs in sudden guilt over Jeonghan, but you quickly push it out of your head. There was nothing wrong about this; You wanted him.
“I want you, J-Jihoon…”
He nods at your response, taking a deep breath before he starts to sink his cock into your wet cunt.
There’s a subtle stinging you feel, a whimper on your lips when he only just gets the head of his cock in. “Okay?” He asks, fingertips massaging the skin of your thighs. The momentary pause is enough for some of the stinging to subside so you nod, clammy hands digging into the sheets.
Jihoon lets out a guttural moan, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he bottoms out after a few tense seconds. “Oh, god, you---you feel so good, princess…”
He leans over you, kissing you on the forehead before he leans in to kiss you on the lips; swallowing up your mewls and whimpers as you get used to the feeling of Jihoon’s cock snug between your warm walls.
“Jihoon, please---please move…” Your words are muffled against his lips as he smiles, nodding when he pulls away from you.
Jihoon starts a slow pace at first; skillful hips pistoning into you. He watches you bite your lip when he angles his thrusts in a particular way, smirking when he knows he’s gotten your sweet spot.
“Look at you… So pretty underneath me, where you belong.” He licks his lips, pupils blown wide. “You know I’d do anything for you, right, princess? Just say the word and I’ll give it to you.” His grip on you gets tighter as his fingernails dig into the skin of your thighs.
“Ngh… Ji--Jihoon…” You whimper quietly as your hips cant up to meet his thrusts. “Please, m-more…”
The head of his cock grazes against your g-spot with each thrust and you can’t help the moans that bubble past your lips at the feeling.
Jeonghan momentarily flits through your mind again and Jihoon can sense the way you seem to tense up. He bites the inside of his cheek at this, pulling his cock out of you as confusion crosses your features.
“Jihoon, wh--”
“I want you on your hands and knees for me.” He murmurs; using his strength to flip you onto your stomach.
It takes a second for you to catch your bearings, hands planted on the bed sheets as he tugs your ass closer to himself. He repositions his cock at your entrance, bottoming out in a single thrust as he starts a much quicker pace this time.
In this position, he can fuck you deeper, hips slamming into your ass as you slowly slump down against the sheets.
A sharp knock at the door a few minutes later has you gasping as you reach behind you to try and push Jihoon off. He doesn’t budge, instead, smirks at the way your pussy clenches harder around his cock.
“Princess? It’s me.”
Jeonghan.
Jihoon leans over your back, kissing your shoulder once before whispering in your ear. “You should answer him. Before he gets suspicious.” You clear your throat to the best of your ability, brows furrowed when Jihoon reaches a hand around, fingertips on your clit rubbing soft circles.
“Y-yes, Jeonghan?”
“May I come in? I’d like to speak with you.” Your heart pangs in a way you don’t expect, teeth clenched hard when you feel the pleasure starting to peak again.
“I’m, a-ah, so---so sorry, Jeonghan, I’ve already, hah, d-dressed for bed. M--maybe tomorrow? O--over tea, perhaps?” You shakily offer; hoping that he doesn’t barge his way in.
“Right. Of course, my mistake. It’s quite late. I’ll see you for tea tomorrow then. Sleep well.”
You hear his footsteps just as your second orgasm hits you; body seizing up under Jihoon as he continues to fuck you through it.
“Such a naughty little princess, aren’t you? Laying with someone else while your husband-to-be is on the other side of that door. And not only that, but taking your pleasure from someone else inside of you too? My, my.” He teases, eyes flashing the same pale pink in warning.
He pinches your clit between his fingertips, loving the way your body jolts under his touch. “Ngh… Jihoon I---I can’t…” You whine. Your body feels extremely sensitive now that you’d cum twice, but Jihoon laughs lightly as he pulls out from you yet again.
“You’ve taken your pleasure twice now, princess. But what about me?”
Jihoon flips you over yet again; a sheen of sweat on your body and his.
An idea pops into his head, smiling down at you before he, himself, rests against the pillows next to you. “Get on my lap, princess.”
You shakily get up, swinging a leg over him as you situate yourself on his thighs. He helps guide you, hands on your waist until you’re hovering right above his cock. “Stay like this.” Mumbling, he uses a free hand to guide his cock until it’s right at your entrance again. “Now sink down onto my cock, princess.”
Not really knowing how slow or fast to go, you sink down onto his cock in a single motion; the air knocked out of Jihoon and your lungs when you’re finally completely seated on his cock.
You let out a choked cry at the feeling; oversensitivity biting into you already when he places his hands on your waist again. “Mmh, okay, princess, you’re---you’re gonna raise yourself up and down, okay?” Nodding, you brace your hands on his torso, lifting yourself up and dropping yourself back down onto his cock.
The two of you share a moan as you fall into a rhythm; Jihoon planting his feet down flat onto the sheets as his hips cant up to meet your movements. You alternate bouncing on his lap and swiveling your hips, testing different ways and seeing how he reacts.
Jihoon feels his abdomen tightening as he finally feels his orgasm coming, a soft growl on his lips.
“P--princess, I’m---I’m so close.” He whispers harshly, eyes slamming shut as he chases his high. “Touch yourself for me. I want you to feel good with me one more time.”
“J--Jihoon I---I c-can’t…”
“Oh but you can, sweetheart. I can feel you already close again too.” He teases.
Jihoon takes one of your hands from his chest, bringing it to your clit as you blush. “Right here. Make yourself feel good too.” His voice is soft yet alluring and enough for you to slowly rub circles around your swollen clit. You immediately let out a cry, letting Jihoon take the reins again as he fucks up into you.
“Together, princess, with me.”
This time when you cum a few perfectly angled thrusts later, Jihoon does too; hips stuttering and a sultry moan on his lips. Your vision is blurry, tears wetting your eyelashes as you slump over into Jihoon’s chest.
Your entire body shakes; fingertips numb as you let out soft cries against his warm skin. “Jihoon…”
The two of you stay in that position for a while longer and his heartbeat is enough to lull you into a soft slumber, eyes finally welcoming sleep as your tired body lays on top of him.
“That’s right, princess. Go to sleep. You’re tired, aren’t you?” You nod gently, unaware of the way Jihoon smirks down at your head.
“I’ll get you cleaned up and make sure nobody sees you like this.”
You smile gently, warm and sated as you let the sleep take over.
When you wake, the warm sun filters through the curtains.
A smile graces your lips as you blink your sleepy eyes open and something immediately feels off.
This… isn’t my bed?
Your brows furrow in confusion as your vision focuses, taking in your surroundings as you sit up. “Where---where am I?” Mumbling softly, you move to take the covers off of you, noticing immediately that your left leg is bound to the bedpost.
Panic floods your senses; a cold sweat down your temple as you tug on it harshly. “Jihoon!? Jeonghan!? Hello!?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t yell so loudly if I were you. You’ll only hurt your throat.”
Jihoon enters the room with a small tray in hand, placing it on a nearby table as he sits by you on the bed. He shoots you a warm smile; grey eyes permanently a soft pinkish hue.
“Jihoon, where----where is this? Where are we?”
“Oh, that Wonwoo. You know, I traded a great deal to be here with you. But he’s just so selfish.” There’s a soft chuckle on his lips as he shakes his head in thought. “I traded him a life for a week on land. But it’s not enough, you know? He wanted more so I gladly let him have two more for a little bit more time. A month! Can you believe it?”
“J--Jihoon, pl--please, this---why---”
“But don’t worry. I couldn’t kill the Prince. No, no, no even I am not that cruel. But those bodyguards of his… Tsk, such a handful those two. They saw me leaving with you and, my, well… Wonwoo does like a good trade.”
His soft laugh is sweeter than a siren’s call; genuine happiness lacing each second.
“But---but what if they c-come looking f--for me? And---And you know they w-will, Jihoon...”
Jihoon smiles, eyes hollow as he stares out of the window.
He’d already thought of every escape plan in the book.
“Oh my, well… Wonwoo will just have to keep giving me more time with the amount of bodies that will pile up outside of our castle, princess. Don’t you worry your little head.”
“Hey, did you hear about what happened at the castle this morning?”
“Not at all. Do tell!”
“They said they found Prince Jeonghan poisoned! And his bodyguards were found dead in the grand hall!”
“Dead!?”
“Yes! Dead! They’re unsure whether or not the prince will wake… As of right now there’s no suspects or even any hint of who could’ve done it! But the poor princess…”
“What happened to her? Is she alright?”
“Nobody knows. She seems to have been taken, the poor soul. Not a single trace of her existence was left at the castle. It’s like she never existed.”
#woozi smut#yandere!woozi#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen fic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#svt scenarios#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#jihoon smut#merman!au#merman!woozi#yandere!svt#woozi#jihoon#monstermash!svt
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So like, what exactly happened with Than, Sisyphus and Ares? Did Sisyphus *attack* him or Ares?
Okay so originally Hermes was going to speak to Than about what happened but I switched it to boulder man for a whole host of reasons ANYWAYS
While Hermes was gone, one of Sisyphus' community comes to Asphodel to request Thanatos' services for their leader as Corinth does not have a physician who specializes in actual medicinal care. Thanatos goes, as he has once or twice before, spends a few days fixing whatever is wrong with Sisyphus, and the entire time boulder man is joking that he should stay here as the idea of a 'good-looking personal doctor' sounds great to him. As one would expect, Than is like 'fuck no' and when Sisyphus is on the mend and no longer needs him to monitor his health, decides its time to leave.
Sisyphus doesn't like that, so he kidnaps Than, chains him up in his home, and we'll just say Than has a bad time of it. I'll leave it up to your imagination about exactly how 'well' he was treated. Flip back to Asphodel a week or so later, Ares arrives and he's looking for the town medic, knowing if anyone is going to point him in the direction of a robot man, it'll be the doctor. Of course, Eurydice laments Than was supposed to be back a while ago and most of the townspeople seem worried.
Bored and impatient, Ares goes after him when another day passes and, upon seeing Corinth is a) fenced off but not extremely well guarded and b) really far away from any other big settlement, decides to let loose a little. He finds the local raider gang, cuts them a deal they can have whatever they want out of the town if they provide enough of a 'distraction' for him to get Thanatos, which of course turns into a full on assault. Corinth was not equipped to deal with it, having been on the other end of smaller scale attacks from the same group for the past year plus this attack was planned and led by a synthetic man with a craving for violence and who was specifically built for military stratagem and conquest.
Maybe enjoying himself a little too much as he successfully pulls off this bout of senseless brutality, Ares makes a show of beating the shit out of Sisyphus and the execution of his wives before dragging the cult leader and Than back to Asphodel. Before they get to Tipper, Ares tells Sisyphus that the safety of what's left of Corinth is contingent on him keeping his mouth shut before beating him unconscious. He similarly implies to Than that his discretion on the matter will ensure Asphodel remains untouched and they go to wait for Charon's barge at the docks.
What was going to come out of Than's side of the story was that he has survivor's guilt and partially blames himself for what happened. He also was going to admit that Ares keeps visiting him to continue making vague threats along with some other...colorful remarks and advances that are Not Great??? So to answer your question, Sisyphus is the only one who actually physically hurt him but Ares certainly wasn't a person of safety and if anyone is happy that Ares is taken out of commission, it's certainly Thanatos.
#fall out hades au#poor than hes this stories auxillary punching bag#sisyphus was power tripping hard when he kidnapped than#and everything that happened after kind of shocked him back to reality#so now he gets to do manual labor for life in the mines to atone for his crimes#there was also going to be mention of the fact than has to treat his kidnappers injuries#but i couldnt figure out a place to put it#oh well
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The Devil Always Works Harder
Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Female Reader
Summary: Your husband can’t make it back in time for your wedding anniversary. The town’s sheriff takes notice and doesn’t plan to let you celebrate alone.
Warnings: Adult themes 18+ | Smut (unprotected & non/dub-con sex, vaginal penetration & fingering, belly bulge, breeding kink). Infidelity. Corruption. Language. Manipulation. Sexual assault. Mentions of alcohol consumption & misuse of drugs (date rape drug).
Disclaimer: The Devil All The Time (2020) film spoiler-free! Please be careful if you’re out in public and NEVER leave your drink unattended! I’d rather go thirsty than accept a drink from someone I’d just met, seemingly sealed in a bottle or not.
A/N: I’m not sure when date rape drugs became a thing, but for the sake of this fic, let’s just forget about specifics in the drug timelines.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes quickly turned into an hour, and already you’d drank at least two glasses of water, ate a small basket of bread that was offered, the second growing stale in front of you, and you even made a trip to the restroom, but still there was no sign of your husband in the dimly lit restaurant.
Tonight, was your third wedding anniversary but it felt longer than that. You and your husband were high school sweethearts, so there’d been plenty of anniversaries throughout the years, and the love never faltered. The pair of you were very understanding and caring of each other. He was really the one.
He’d been away for at least four days now on a business trip, and while you were used to him traveling for work, tonight was different. It was your wedding anniversary, and he was set to return to town in time to celebrate another milestone of the relationship. It’s not like there was much to be excited about when hitting the streets of Knockemstiff, but tonight you were given a reason to look extra nice and just enjoy an evening out with your husband, maybe even cap it off lovingly in bed. Who knows? Maybe tonight would even be the night you two start trying for a family.
You do your best to sit there trying to not look so dejected as you stare at the condensation budding on the outsides of your glass of water, but you’d been occupying this table for a long time now while the other occupants enjoyed their dinner around you. They just had to have noticed you’d been stood up by now. The eyes felt heavy on you. It’s not until the waiter tending to you the whole night breaks the spell.
“Excuse me, miss?”
Sitting up straight you listen to what he has to say; perhaps if you needed yet another refill or wanted to go ahead and place an order, but it wasn’t any of those. Instead, he informs you that they’d received a phone call a few minutes ago from your husband, claiming he was extremely sorry for not being able to make the reservation.
Still keeping up with appearance, but you know you’re failing miserably to look okay, you thank the waiter for the message and leave a decent amount of cash to pay for the establishment letting you practically loiter there for an hour and occupy the table.
Before you leave, you ask if you can borrow the phone to make a quick phone call, which they were kind enough to allow you to. Your husband had given you the number of the hotel he was staying at a few towns over, and you wanted to not only make sure he’s okay, but at least speak to him on your anniversary.
“Hello?” You hear his tired voice through the receiver.
“Hey, babe, it’s me,” you reply, clutching the phone closer to you, like that’d make you feel any better. The distance was still large, and you longed for him to return.
“Hey! Honey, I’m so sorry,” he says, very apologetic, “the client is asking us to come back and present a final pitch tomorrow and then they’ll make a decision on if they want to sign a deal with us...”
The company he worked for was very prominent and credible in the area. He provided for you both just fine and you knew how important this client was to them. He was leading this pitch with his boss close by, and you were made aware that if they successfully closed this deal it would send him to a promotion and you’d both be set, enough to possibly leave the rough town of Knockemstiff. This was no place for you, and he was determined to get you both out of here as soon as he could.
“Oh, yeah. No, I get it,” you respond, trying to sound as understanding as you could without giving off how crushed you actually were that he wouldn’t be returning tonight. Twirling the coiled telephone cord around your pointer and attempting to lighten the mood, “I do. I know they’ll sign!” You boost, and hear his cute laugh drown with the static of the connection.
“Happy Anniversary,” he says sincerely, and you can tell that he genuinely feels bad for standing you up tonight, but at least he had the decency to call the place and let you know.
“Happy Anniversary,” you repeat then continue to let him speak. He promises you he’ll be back tomorrow and if everything goes as planned, he’ll spoil you with a trip, a little getaway for you both. It fills you with so much hope that after the exchanges of “I love you”, the call ends, and you’re feeling slightly better than you had minutes ago.
Make no mistake, you were still upset, letting your make-up, hair and dress go to waste. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to extend a trip. You thought you were used to it, but again, it was your anniversary. It knocked you down a bit that life was cruel enough to not let you have just this one thing.
As if that wasn’t enough, the sudden downpour was the cherry on top of it all as you were now left standing on the sidewalk, using your long dress coat as a makeshift umbrella, while waiting for a cab. You’d taken one earlier to the restaurant, but the idea was to go home with your husband in his car that he’d taken for the trip.
You contemplate for a few minutes to leave your post and head back towards the restaurant to stand under the awning for shade. With this much rain, you were doubting you’d be able to hail a cab anytime soon. The water seeps into your nice heels with each step through the puddles, water splashing against your legs, and the ends of your dress dripping.
Once under the tiny roof, you shake off the water on your coat before slipping your arms back through the sleeves and try to warm up as best as you can, while waiting for the rain to let up.
“Mr. Perfect stand you up, tonight?” You suddenly hear a voice pipe up next to you. The voice is smooth and a familiar one, and not just because it was prominent to the townspeople of Knockemstiff, but because you’ve heard it almost your whole life.
You turn to see Lee Bodecker, childhood friend and the town Sheriff, uniform-clad, badge slightly fogged from the moisture of the weather but still as shiny as ever on his left breast pocket and topped with his campaign hat.
“Hey, Lee,” you greet him, ignoring the comment about your husband, as he lights a cigarette.
He always called him that and hardly ever by his first name. Even physically around the man, he’d resort to calling him by his last name and you’re not sure if it’s because there was something personal between them or where you all stood in life, but surely them having known each other since high school you’d think there would be no need for formalities amongst...friends? Acquaintances? Whatever they were to each other, they weren’t strangers.
You’d lived in Knockemstiff your whole life and was around the same age as Lee. You grew up going to the same school, church, camps...he was a constant in your life. You liked to think he was a friend. He on the other hand liked to think more. He always wanted more than what he already had.
“You look nice tonight,” he compliments before blowing out a cloud of smoke into the stuffy air.
“Thanks, but no,” you begin explaining why you ended up alone tonight, “he’s having to extend his business trip,” not like you owed it to him or anything, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to kill time talking to an old friend.
“You sure it’s not something else…” he trails off while looking forward, not paying mind to your bewildered expression. Of course, you’d think that was the most outlandish idea. He knew you were madly in love with your dear husband and he would never think twice about him cheating on you. The two of you were just too perfect. It was almost sickening to him.
“He would never!” Your voice raised, but not as to shout out at him, but loud enough to appear insulted and defensive. Your arms crossed over your chest, upset that he would insinuate your husband would be unfaithful to you. You trusted him and he trusted you, that’s what made the dream work.
“I’m not saying he would,” he says flicking the white stick of the ashes on the end, “...would be a damn fool to,” the last bit more to himself before taking another drag.
If he thought you didn’t catch the last part, he was wrong. You weren’t completely oblivious to Lee’s advances, no matter how little they were. People talked, your husband especially, noting the soft spot the Sheriff had for you. He was always nice to you and you didn’t think any harm of him. He was rough around the edge, but that’s how he had to be. Plus, he was married, and your heart was spoken for.
“How’d you know I was even here?” You ask curiously. How did he know your husband was a no show tonight?
“Think I’m some stalker?” He jokes, a grin spreads across his features, and you blush embarrassed you’d made it sound as if he was a creep, “I was hungry and heard this place was nice.”
He was in there? You’d been people watching the whole time you were inside, and not once did you recall spotting Lee at a table. You shrug that thought aside, settling with the fact that he was a trained official, and it was his job to blend in and keep a watchful eye.
“I wouldn’t know,” your remark sounding a tad bit petty. You didn’t get to eat anything on the menu aside from the free bread. A few more seconds go by, before he speaks again, waiting for the uncomfortable topic of your date being cancelled tonight to pass.
“You’re never going to catch a cab in this weather,” he points out, tossing the rest of his cigarette onto the soiled ground and stomping on it. He hears you let out a big sigh knowing he’s right. “Come on. My car’s not too far,” he offers, his head cocked to the side in the direction of the lot.
The last thing you wanted to appear as was helpless, but that’s what you were in this moment. Spirits down, soaked and stranded. You shrug your coat off again to cover your head before reluctantly accepting his offer, not noticing the wicked curvature of his lips on his pudgy face.
He wasn’t having dinner inside that restaurant at all. He was aware that your wedding anniversary was tonight, and had your husband been able to attend, Lee got some sort of sick pleasure in tormenting him in front of you, even with something as silly as bringing up a past memory unfavorable to your beloved, and luck seemed to be on Lee’s side tonight.
Lee knew where you lived. He’d visited a few times from the outside, and as an official he knew the town almost like the back of his own hand. The rain seemed persistent by the second. You could make a run for it up the steps of your front porch into the safety of your home, but you knew how bad the roads could get on a stormy night. Lee didn’t leave you stranded tonight, and you wouldn’t feel right leaving him stranded in his police car overnight.
You hang your coat on the nearby rack by the front door and extend the courtesy to Lee, who hands you his hat and worn-out leather jacket. He slips off his wet shoes, not wanting to leave a trail of muddy prints in the pristine home. It was a beautiful house. You kept it nice and clean, it was basically a model home. Lee couldn’t help the scowl on his face, while your back was turned to him as he followed you deeper into the house, just thinking about how your husband won again. His home couldn’t compare to what he gave you.
After stowing away your heels in the closet, trading them for a comfy pair of house slippers, you tell Lee to make himself comfortable in the living room, while you disappear into the kitchen to make a quick snack. You opt for a nice variety of meats, cheese, crackers and some fruit on a small charcuterie board.
When you returned to the living room, Lee had been inspecting the artifacts that decorated your home. The framed photos of you and your husband, his bright smile almost mocking him as he glared at it. He’d sure like to knock that smug son of a bitch stiff himself, alright. Other items that scattered the home were of the souvenirs from his trips, tiny religious figures, and other trinkets that made the home your own. Oh, you had it made, he thought.
Lee never liked your husband. He believed he was well on his way to snagging you, until he moved into town that year during high school, and when you both met, people called it love at first sight. Lee felt like he was always out bested by him, he one-upped Lee in almost everything. It was ridiculous, but it wounded his male ego, and even up to now, with the kind of power he possessed, he still felt like he came in second place and your husband ultimately won because he had you - the real prize.
He does his best to maintain his composure at the sight of your exposed cleavage, the dress you wore accentuated your bust nicely, as he turns around just in time to see you bent down to place the board on the coffee table. When you come back up, you offer him a seat on the couch.
“Got anything nice to drink around here?” He asks, and you mentally scold yourself for not being a good hostess and initially offering him a beverage upon arrival. You list out a plethora of usual choices, water, coffee, tea, a bottle of pop even, but he was looking for something hard. Neither you or your husband were heavy drinkers, so you didn’t stock up on liquor, but tonight was supposed to be special, so technically you had something.
“Well, I do have this nice bottle of wine, but…” your words trailing off. You probably wouldn’t be able to enjoy it anytime soon. If your husband successfully closed the deal tomorrow, he’d probably be thrust with more responsibilities and longer hours, before you two could escape on that getaway he promised to take you on. “...I was saving it for my anniversary tonight,” the words come out pathetically and you curse yourself for even mentioning you had the bottle and its purpose, but you were awful at lying.
He lets out a tiny scoff, no doubt amused on being reminded that Mr. Perfect couldn’t be here to rightfully celebrate your union. “There’s no use letting it go to waste, right?” He says, it was almost effortless on his part, like his whole domineering appearance made people bend to his every will.
“I guess you’re right,” you agree and turn back around to grab the pricey bottle and two glasses. It was a little weird at first, drinking with an official of the law, but he did his best to make it feel more like two friends catching up over drinks.
Suppose it had been the effects of the alcohol, you were definitely not a frequent drinker, but it made you feel more at ease and open enough to get through the night with your guest. Lee knows very well that you’ve been a good girl your whole life. The girl next door. An angel in his eyes, who attended church regularly and lent a helping hand to the community, he knew with his track record you’d never settle or trade the life you had now to be with his sorry ass. Not to mention, he let himself go after his marriage to Florence; he’d settled that was for sure.
He kept tabs on you, more than of the suspects he’d be tipped about. You figured he was just dedicated to his job and not much of his seemingly harmless rounds around your usual routes. It wasn’t a big town after all; you ran into people all the time.
With your legs folded underneath you, the alcohol settled itself in your system enough for you to relax, not realizing your dress had ridden up, so much that if Lee were to just recline a few inches back, he’d get a peak of your panties. The food and bottle of wine halfway through, Lee started probing into your personal life. Was everything all that it cracked out to be? Were you really happy with your husband? What did he have to do?
He works his way cleverly in conversation. Starting with old memories of growing up together and embarrassing high school moments, before asking the more personal ones. The elicited memories served as a blanket of faux trust, to get you to confine him. Good old Lee, you’ve shared countless memories with him, you could trust him, right?
You didn’t realize you’d drunkenly admit how you’re ready to start a family with your husband, but the thought of his impending promotion would halt the idea. Maybe he wasn’t ready just yet. You’re alone at home for the majority of the day, you were ready and were getting tired of waiting, but you made a vow to do whatever it takes to make this marriage last even if it meant putting a pause on things you wanted.
Lee notices the wistful look that washed over your delicate features. On the outside you were happy, but on the inside, you yearn for more. A better life outside of Knockemstiff, with a more devoted husband and someday soon a baby in the picture. No doubt, he would’ve given you that immediately...
“I’d never leave yo-” he quickly catches his slip-up, before recovering, “Florence. I’d never leave my wife alone, especially on our own wedding anniversary,” he says, voice growing almost husky, and suddenly you’re uneasy at the close proximity between you two.
You could even smell the alcohol on his breath, see the way it made his lips shine, staining it a deeper shade of red. You remain unmoving for a moment, like you’re hypnotized by his alluring blue eyes. You thought they were rather nice, very different from your husband’s eyes. Your mind clouded, you started convincing yourself of something you’d never felt before, an attraction to Lee Bodecker.
It was absolutely not a match made in Heaven, but Lee always wanted a taste, and you were the embodiment of forbidden fruit. He notices your glossy eyes but thinks nothing of it. You’re scared, scared to break your sacred vows, ashamed of yourself for thinking about someone in another light other than your husband.
Not wanting to turn this into a pity party or even think about what would happen if you didn’t cut the tension now, you excuse yourself and keep busy by cleaning up the remnants of your “dinner” and pick up the charcuterie board to take back to the kitchen and begin cleaning up. The slight wobble in your step indicates you’re almost gone and would have to call it a night.
In your absence, Lee fishes out a tiny plastic bag he had stashed with him from a previous bust. Some stupid teenage party, and with his power, it meant he had access to all the confiscated substances the precinct collected. He decides to pour you both another glass but pays special attention to yours. When he hears the rush of water from the kitchen, he takes advantage of the stalled time to slip and allow the drug to settle in your glass, careful to measure just enough based on your body mass, so as to at least keep you conscious.
When you reappear, Lee stands up, glass in each hand, yours outstretched to you. You want to refuse, knowing your limit, but not wanting to be a downer, you give in and accept the doomed glass.
“To wedded bliss?” Lee toasts to you and your husband, raising his glass slightly up towards yours, to which you force a smile and clink the cup ware together.
Two gulps in, your head starts spinning, and you blink your eyes a couple of times to keep your line of vision straight, but it doesn’t. Lee sets his glass back down on the coffee table and swoops right in, an arm cradling the small of your back to keep you steady before you stumble to the floor. He grabs your glass and sets it next to his, still holding you close, your hands are covering your face as if to wipe off the effects of the alcohol.
“You alright there, gorgeous?” He asks with a light pep in his voice as if he found some humor in this. He certainly did. You were a lightweight and it wouldn’t take long for him to finally get what he’s always wanted. It couldn't have been more of a blessing in disguise that you were left all alone, vulnerable on this particular night of your life. The devil always works harder…
“Yeah, I-I think I just need to lie down,” you say disoriented. Eyelids heavy, you try to focus on Lee’s concerned face, your hands settled on his chest.
“Then let’s get you to your bed so you can rest properly,” he nods before taking your hands in his calloused ones. He reveled in how soft they were and how nice they’d feel wrapped around his cock, tugging him until he came undone.
“It’s okay, Lee,” you attempt to thwart his plan and remove your hands from his. A part of you had some sensibility to remind you that your bedroom was sacred, and no one else, especially another man that wasn’t your husband should be left alone with you in it, “I-I can...m-make it there on...m-my own,” you struggle in convincing him.
“I’m not so sure you can, sweetheart,” he starts to reason, “just let me help you,” and then pulls your body back to prevent you from falling again. You let out a strange noise, which causes him to laugh. You stagger in guiding him to the master bedroom, but soon enough he’s successfully laid you on top of the large bed.
As soon as your body hit the mattress, you felt weightless, almost as if you were floating in the clouds. Nothing hurt and nothing mattered, it felt kind of good, suppose that’s why some people abused certain drugs. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of rough hands running up the length of your thighs, dangerously close to the hem of your dress.
“What?” You speak out ever so confused, hands coming down on his wrists to stop him from traveling further up.
“Relax, babe,” Lee says as tender as he could be, your hands weakening their hold, “I just want you to feel comfortable in your own bed.” He was crossing a line and had you been able to think clearly, you’d have kicked him out, but Lee didn’t even entertain that possibility at all. What were you going to do? Call the cops? He was the law. No one would believe you.
“I-I,” you stutter profusely, “I don’t think you should be...doing that,” you manage to say, his hands long gone under your dress, grabbing the sides of your hips, hands full of your flesh. You weren’t going to lie, it felt nice to be touched again, but as soon as Lee started to lean in, your legs bent up to block him, your body still playing in defense over him. His hands reemerge from your dress and settle themselves on top of your knees.
“Lee, I-,” all words disappear from you, you can’t seem to find them or the strength to enforce them, especially when he parts your legs, climbing into bed with you, he maneuvers his body to settle in between, and he’s careful to not crush you with his weight.
“What is it, baby?” He asks, then tests the waters by planting featherweight kisses on the skin of your exposed cleavage that’d been teasing him all night, “What do you want?” Each kiss burns, but the substances flowing through your veins turns it into sheer pleasure that you start to lust for more.
His lips make their path up the column of your neck, until their ghosting right above yours. Your breaths mingled with one another, eyes staring at the small gap between your lips. Your mouth opens and you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Lee however takes the initiative and closes the space, his tongue wasting no time delving right in.
When the muscle makes contact with yours, you’re not sure what to do at first. A part of you wanted to voice out that you’d wanted him to kiss you, relieve you of the frustration, and the other part wanted to demand he get off. You were always faithful to your husband, the initial shock needed to pass by first.
Lee notices your frozen state, and coaxes against your lips, “don’t fight it, baby,” his hands wander and explore all the fields of your body, “you deserve to feel good...I can make you feel good...better than he ever could.”
Your head starts to turn to the side, your willpower isn't going down yet still putting up a fight against this act of sin, but their efforts fail as he forcibly grips you by the chin, directing you back to his lips. The kiss is sloppy on his part as you’d still manage to not reciprocate his affections.
“You’re allowed to feel good, doll,” and by some unexplained phenomena, it was as if his words gave you the push, the permission, to give in to temptation.
When he’s sure you’re locked in place, he lets his hand loose to grope at and knead your breasts through the material of your dress. Your lips started to relax and move against his. His handy work causes you to sigh through your nose and it encourages him to slide the straps down your shoulder, pull at the top of your dress, and yank at your bra, allowing your breasts to spill out.
The skin-to-skin contact causes an abrupt jolt to course through you as you involuntarily arch up into his body. Your sensitive nipples rolling in between the pads of his fingertips, causes your breathing to hitch. Lee tears his lips away from yours to take a gander at your exposed top half, and he audibly swears at the very sight. That son of bitch husband of yours, keeping you housed practically all day, away from anyone. He can’t entirely blame him there, he’d want no one to get any ideas of you behind closed doors either. At least they could agree on one thing - you.
Breathless, you start tugging at the end of his tie, desperate to feel his lips back on yours, and he doesn’t disappoint, going in for a bruising kiss. Your hands unwittingly start undoing the knot at the front of his neck, unbutton the top of his shirt, but he stops them, and pins them at the sides of your head. He was going to leave his clothes on for now, not sure if you’d be turned off by him - drugged or not.
You let out a whine and stare up at him with big, pleading eyes. The smirk on his lips, makes your stomach flip. You were losing this battle. You sealed your fate, there was no coming back from this now.
Lee ruts his hips forward, the rough material of his pants scraping against your delicate under garment, and you let out a guttural moan, his hard on evident and poking at you the more he does it because he loves each and every sound that escapes you.
He lets go of one of your hands and revisits an earlier task, slipping back underneath your dress. His fingers push aside the slit of your panties, enough to let him run his fingers through your unashamed wet folds. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t control the itch anymore. Lee hisses lightly, the effect he had on you all too evident.
His ministrations are slow and calculated, running his fingers up and down, your arousal coating his digits, rubbing small circles at the nub, and just right at the entrance. You inhale sharply when he slips a finger in, your hand still cuffed by his other, the intrusion causes your fingers to curl around his wrist, your nails slightly puncture his skin. You’d only been with your husband, and the comparison between him and Lee were indisputable.
He drags his finger back out before digging in again, this time almost knuckle deep. You bite your lip and stare back at his eyes that have turned dark, almost black, full of desire. He’s all but enamored by every bit of reaction he pulls out of you. He’s judging by the looks of it, your husband didn’t think out of the box, wasn’t exciting enough. What a bore, he thought. A woman like you, deserved to feel all sorts of pleasure. And you felt incredibly tight around his digit alone, he could hardly wait to bury his cock inside you.
“That feels good, huh, baby?” He pretends to ask, but he knows it does. It’s written all over you, you’re breathing deeper, eyes closed, intensified by ecstasy just running through you. Nonetheless, you nod in response, and it turns him on even more at how obedient you are.
“You want to feel more?” He tempts you. Your eyes flutter open and look at him again, faces close once more, the tip of his nose nudging your own. Growing impatient with your answer, without warning he curls his finger inside and lightly scratches at your walls.
“Yes, yes!” You say, stunned by the sudden trick, but also loving it.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, right before reclaiming your lips with his. Your complete and utter mush underneath him, his kiss sends your mind in a frenzy. Your hands fisting at his short hair, any trace of inhibition completely leaves your body.
He pulls you into an upright position, lips never parting only for the brief seconds when he pulls your rumpled dress over your head. Your bra casted aside, hanging on the edge of the bed, closest to your husband’s side as if to mock him.
You attempt to untuck his shirt, pulling roughly at the material, Lee laughs at your eagerness. It’s all but muffled as your other hand, at the nape of his neck, pulls him impossibly closer to you, lips moving feverishly on his. The faint stubble on his face burning the corner of your lips and jaw, a sharp contrast between your husband, who kept a clean-shaven face.
Lee parallels your legs to easily pull your panties down, then gets between them once more before pushing you to back down on the bed. You lie there, watching him hovering over you, your eyes travel down his large body and are mesmerized on his hands working to unbuckle his pants. He leans into you again, and kicks his pants off, the thud of the metal belt clanking on the bedroom door serves as an indicator.
You daringly, sneak your hands down south and grip his hard cock through his boxers, catching Lee off guard. Your heart pounded heavily in your ears, all you could hear was the sound of blood rushing as you felt, firsthand, at what you’d be dealing with tonight. It only increased your appetite and sexual curiosity.
Palming him, you start to gauge at the length and girth, but you didn’t want to leave the rest of the imagination, so you reach in and pull his member out, the tip already leaking with pre-cum, staining your palms. He bucks into your hands and you both let out sighs of pleasure when you start rubbing the bulbous head of his cock on your soaking cunt.
Lee swats your hands away, wanting to be in control again. He rids himself of his boxers, tosses the end of his tie over his shoulder and on his back, and picks up the flaps of his police shirt. He does all this to give you both a clear view of his cock as he slowly sinks into your wet channel.
As soon as he disappears inside, so deep you feel the underside of his clothed belly against your lower body, Lee looks up at you, desperate to see your expression, getting off at how good he made you feel. Your head thrown back, lost between the fluffy pillow you were resting on, mouth hung wide out. He was so much bigger, and Lee knew then that he won in at least one other aspect of their little battles.
You gripped him like a vice, your body not used to this kind of intrusion. He moved in-and-out slowly, the tear from each stretch of his thick cock gradually became less painful. Lee studies your facial features, waiting patiently as the creases between your eyebrows start to disappear, and your breathing turns from choking on air to puff sighs and breathy moans.
Your thighs start to loosen and the walls that grip around his hard member relaxes, your eyes peer open again and get a glimpse of the work. You start whimpering at how just as good it looked than it felt. Lee snaps his hips hard the next time, now that the worst part has passed.
As much as he’d rather plow you deep into the mattress at a fast pace, he also wanted to savor the feeling of your warm walls, squeezing him just right for as long as he could last. Who knows when he’d be able to get you alone again? Maybe he should stop by more when Mr. Perfect was out on another business trip.
His thrusts back in are long and hard, a strangled noise escaping you each time, only fuels him. He picks himself up, resting his body weight on his knees, he hooks his arms underneath your legs and pulls your body upwards, your ass resting on top of his thighs. You grip at the bedsheets, a corner popping off, as the new position allows his cock to probe at different areas inside you. It didn’t take long for you to convulse around him, wrecked with euphoria from the orgasm.
Your legs falling slack in his arms when you come down slow. It was apparent, you hadn’t had it that good in a while or Lee would peg, ever, just convinced he was a better lover in bed than your husband. He was wrong before; you could have it so much better with him. Lee reaches over to caress your face, skin hot and cheeks flushed, but the touch provides a sense of comfort and tenderness.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says blown away by the sight of you overcome with pleasure, and spread open, completely bare for him. His eyes scanning your body from your head to where you both were connected.
That’s when he notices it. His hand travels down and braces itself on top of your belly, right where his dick poked, feeling the slight bulge. The mere thought of you swollen riled him up. If you wanted a baby, he’d give you one. You didn’t need to ask if he was ready or not, he’d give you however many you desired.
“You want to be a mommy so bad, dontchu?” his voice all gruff and thrusts picking up speed, “I’ll give you a baby,” he promises and continues to pound into you, tenderness a thing in the past. It was now all about his climax and living up to his new promise.
“Huh?” you question, a sense of knowing creeping back in when he says this, “no, no, please don’t,” you start begging, legs trying to kick him off before he cums inside, “Lee,” your pleading hopeless and futile against him as his hips ram into yours forcibly, no doubt you’d be incredibly sore in the morning at the sudden roughness. It gave him a thrill to fuck you in the same place where you and your husband slept.
His lips litter wet kisses all over your exposed neck, you pay no attention to it as the tears stream down the corner of your eyes, burn your ears, and you’re exactly what you hoped to not appear as, completely helpless. The death grip he has around your waist holds you still long enough for your body to absorb every drop of his seed. You hadn’t realized your hands were braced against his sweaty shirt as if to attempt to push him off, but he was much stronger than you, they formed into clutching onto handfuls of the material instead as you felt his load shoot into your womb.
For a few minutes, Lee stays put, still inside of you, trying to remember how you feel around him. He filled you to the brim, as some of the mixed juices pooled around the base. Lee lets out a low groan, as your walls involuntarily contract around him, like you’re trying to suck him back in as he slowly pulls out.
He collapses on your husband’s side of the bed, but just before he does, he reaches down at his discarded pants on the floor for the carton of cigarettes in one of the pockets, the lighter in the other. When he’s back in a reclining position, a few drags in, he looks over the opposite of him, and studies you.
Your body shining with a thin layer of sweat, hair matted and stuck on parts of your face, your breathing had seemed to regulate once more. It might as well appear that you were sleeping and not recovering from a good fucking.
“You still with me, doll?” He asks for safe measure before lightly tapping the sides of your face. When you make no protest or movement at all, he mentally applauds himself for a job well done. You’d sleep through the night and he’d be long gone before your husband returned.
By now, the rain had since died down, roads were safe for driving, and well into the late-night hours. Lee finished his cigarette and decided it was time to tidy up and make his exit. He’d set the scene as if you’d been drinking alone tonight. He carefully slipped your clothes back on, tenderly wiped you, and even cleaned the glass you were drinking from earlier, to rid of any traces of sludge, in the kitchen sink. He did everything to make sure there were no holes in this plan.
Before Lee leaves you, he stares at your sleeping fame. So sweet, he says to himself, while tracing the outline of your lips with his finger then leaning down to feel them soft against his for one final taste.
The next morning you hear your name being called out repeatedly, and even with the slight pounding ache on the side of your head and remaining grogginess, you recognize the voice to be of your husband’s. He was back, and you regrettably attempt to sit up to welcome him home with loving arms, but the sudden and quick movements only increase the drumming in your head.
“Whoa, take it easy, babe,” he says, gently resting his arms on yours and pushing you back down on the bed, “looks like you had a long night,” he comments.
“What?” You ask why he’d think that. You don’t remember much of last night other than him cancelling on your wedding anniversary...and the very vivid dream you had about Lee Bodecker. Yeah, too vivid it made your stomach flip, but also it felt all too real except it couldn’t be. You’d never sleep with another and break your vow and he was a married man.
He figured you’d have trouble remembering, but he explains that he found the opened bottle of wine, you’d saved for the both of you, the stained glass next to it on the coffee table, and you passed out in bed still in your dress. It was then you noticed you were still in last night’s attire, so any wild thoughts that crossed your mind earlier of infidelity were scratched out.
“I thought something was wrong,” he expresses worriedly.
“Why would there be anything wrong?” You ask now confused. Despite the dull ache in your lower region, you were in the safety of your home, and you didn’t have a history of drinking heavily before, so last night was just a fluke.
He starts informing you of how your kind and elderly neighbor had noticed a sheriff’s vehicle parked in front of your house for a few hours, “…said she’d gotten worried something had happened to you when she saw the car...” he pauses, a hint of annoyance on his face at his next words, “...but said once she saw Lee step out, she knew you’d be safe, and well, I can’t disagree with her on that. Lee would never let anything happen to you.”
You didn’t even pay attention to his last few words, too caught up when he revealed Lee was in fact here last night. The idling, dull ache now suddenly growing, and you do your best to swallow down the small bile rising in your throat at the revelation that confirmed your suspicions. The dream you had about Lee couldn’t have been a dream, but reality. Not only had you committed adultery, you were ashamed of the heat between your legs at the flashback of how good he made you feel.
You knew you’d never consent to such a thing. Was this a case of sexual assault? And could it be classified as one if you were just as willing? It confused you greatly, not wanting to believe Lee manipulated you to having sex with him. You couldn’t recall any part of how it began, where he had done something wrong other than also cheating on his wife. Oh, poor Florence, you thought to yourself and it only added to the headache.
“I guess I owe him some form of gratitude for making sure you’re okay,” he says reluctantly, almost a little pained and forced, “oh honey, don’t strain yourself,” he advises, nursing your obvious hangover.
He’d mistaken the look of sheer horror and internal heartache for illness. Like the doting husband he was, he helped you slip into something comfortable and less restricting before heading into the kitchen to fix you up something light to eat.
As you laid there in the tainted bed, you prayed for forgiveness. You lived your life carefully and to your best ability, morally, how could this have plagued you? Was there an appropriate way to confess your infidelity to your husband? He wouldn’t tolerate it, you knew that much, and you wouldn’t blame him for leaving you.
The thought of a life without him scared you, but not as much as the possibility of a life that wasn’t a product of your love growing inside of you.
A/N: Yeah, I don’t even know. I’ve been reading a couple of Lee Bodecker fics and I was tempted. Thanks for reading! Please give this a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed!
#mrwinterr writes#lee bodecker imagine#lee bodecker smut#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan smut#tdatt fic#tdatt imagine#the devil all the time
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RESPECT ✩ namgi
✩ as part of @btswritingcafe‘s mots: 7 collab ✩
✩ pairing: king namjoon x witch reader x king yoongi
✩ genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, angst, smut, fluff, a sprinkle of crack
✩ summary: in a land where the only openly acceptable magic is intrinsic soulmate bonds, what is a lowly witch to do when she is called upon by not just one king but two?
✩ word count: 7.1k
✩ warnings: 18+, cursing, magic, societal oppression, mention of snakes, reader has hella trust issues, begging, general cheesy fluff, smut [dom!reader, dom!namjoon, switch!yoongi, threesome (duh), throne sex (yuh), yoongi gets taken to paris and then the reader gets double teamed (aka double penetration)]
✩ beta’d by: the MAGNIFICENT phia @meowxyoong
✩ banner by: the ILLUSTRIOUS danica @dee-ehn
Magic danced at your fingertips as you summoned ingredients from the shelves behind you. You had been brewing this potion for hours - a tedious and tumultuous process that always accompanied the crafting of wolfsbane. It was a badly kept secret that you supplied the temporary suppressant along with a variety of other magical remedies, spells, and an occasional curse or two.
There were - of course - limits on what you would provide. You did not take too kindly to townspeople that asked for dark spells or soulmate switches. Your fellow magical and supernatural folk in the kingdom of Meridian were ostracized enough as it was by the majority of the wealthier classes. To add on to your bad reputation would be a foolish endeavor.
Magic - it seemed - was a poor man’s trade. Why would the rich deign to ask for help from lowly witches and warlocks when they had access to the best doctors, the furthest overseas markets, and the fattest bank accounts? The occasional upper class individual would stray from the norm and enter your shop, but that was a rarity. And thank god it was.
The rich and the royals often feared what they did not understand – whether it be foreign powers, lower class revolts, or magical beings. For centuries, supernaturals like yourself clung to the outer rim of the kingdom out of necessity. Some who were able to pass as human lived closer to the castle at the center of the kingdom; but, you had long since lost your cover, choosing to openly use your powers for good and for a source of income.
While the two current rulers had lifted the outright ban on supernaturals and magical beings a few years ago, centuries of prejudice and trepidation could not be quickly unlearned.
It always struck you as ironic how easily the magic of soulmates was accepted, but a simple spell of healing, for example, was not. Perhaps the acceptance of soulmate magic was out of the longevity of its presence or the necessity of its inevitability - perhaps a combination of the two. You were taught from a young age that soulmate bonds felt like a welcomed tether to another person - a connection celebrated and cherished. And, in most cases, that rang true.
However, you knew too much to hope for a soulmate of your own, having heard too many stories from your fellow magic wielders. You knew all too much about the severance of soulmate bonds and the pain that accompanied the process – the pain that never left.
Obviously, you were downright terrified of finding your soulmate and the almost certain rejection that would follow over the mere fact you were a witch. You would stick to your spells and your potions, thank you very much.
Giving the wolfsbane one final stir, you reached for the empty bottle next to your cauldron, only to be interrupted by a thumping knock on the thick wood of your front door. Sighing, you set down the bottle and doused the flames beneath your finished brew with a flick of your hand.
Turning to the door, you cast a quick reveal-spell at the dividing barrier between you and the newcomers. The magic dripped down the door, erasing it from your sight.
Kim Taehyung waited expectantly on the other side, body practically vibrating with anticipation. You rolled your eyes. That boy always carried way too much energy with him. He pounded again on your door. You smirked, it always seemed funny when visitors would continue to knock on what was - for you - an invisible barrier.
You waved the spell away with another wave of your palm. Pulling open the door, you failed to get a word in before you were swept into a giant hug. “(Y/n)!” Taehyung bellowed in your ear while he swung you around.
“Tae,” You wheezed, “Can’t. Breathe.”
The werewolf let you stand on your feet once more. “How is my favorite witch?” He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You sighed, chuckling slightly, “Tae, I’m the only witch you know besides Sinestra, and she scares you.”
Taehyung gasped, “She does not scare me! She’s just mean. She threatened to turn me into a cactus last time I went to her shop!” A pout formed on his face.
“Well,” You cannot resist teasing the boy, “She did say that you were being a prick.”
Taehyung shot you a playful glare and mumbled something about damned witches sticking together.
Deciding to let him off the hook, you headed back over to where the wolfsbane was left waiting to be bottled. “It just finished,” You told Taehyung as he trailed after you. “But, Taehyung, you really should just tell him.”
The reason that Taehyung repressed his wolf each month was none other than his soulmate - a human named Jimin. Tae was terrified of Jimin’s reaction to discovering his supernatural side. You thought his fear was justified, but you also figured that Jimin would be accepting of Tae just from how the werewolf described him.
Besides, it seemed inevitable that Jimin would catch on at some point. And Taehyung seemed to know that, too.
Tae’s shoulders sagged, “I know, (y/n). I’ll think about it.”
With that, you nodded and dropped the subject, pouring the portion of the potion Taehyung needed into a bottle. Capping it tightly, you handed it to him, “Here. Remember to take it with food this time, okay?”
He smiled widely, clutching the bottle close to his chest. “Thank you! I will, (y/n).” Pulling you into one more hug, Taehyung waltzed out the door with a wave.
You smiled wistfully at his departure. So full of life, that one was. You just knew that his soulmate would accept him. You also recognized that you were not like Taehyung. You weren’t as vibrant, as gentle, or as beautiful. Would your soulmate be able to look past all your magic and stay for you? You didn't think so.
Shaking yourself from your negative thoughts, you carefully bottle up the rest of the wolfsbane for your stores. Even though you had long since stopped charging Taehyung, there were other werewolves nearby that you sold the potion to for quite a pretty penny.
You had barely begun to shelve the bottles when another knock sounded at your door. Cracking a wry smile, you yanked the door open, “Tae, what did you forget to tell me this ti—”
The knock had not been from Taehyung. Instead, two palace guards stood there, shoulder to shoulder.
Oh, this was not good. Having any lingering association with the palace would hurt your business. It was always best to deal with potentially hazardous situations quickly. Pulling open the door wider, you stood with hands on your hips, facing the two intruders. They both gaped at you, and you arched an eyebrow at them. “Can I help you, boys?”
You took their continued silence as an opportunity to flick your eyes up and down each of the men before you.
The one on the right looked like he had just passed the guards’ test with his widened doe eyes and his flushed pink cheeks. The one on the left looked slightly older but no less youthful as he seemed to bounce on his toes with energy.
Seconds ticked by until - finally - the second guard exclaimed, “You’re (y/n)? The witch?”
“Last time I checked, yes,” You addressed the guard who had spoken. You dubbed him ‘Happy’. “Were you expecting me to look differently?”
“I heard that you were super old! Like over one hundred years old!” Doe-eyes unhelpfully answered before widening his eyes in panic, “Not that there’s anything wrong with being old! I mean, I love old people! But, not, like, romantically! I mean—”
Happy seemed to notice your mood darkening with each word his partner spewed out. Shoving the younger guard aside, Happy puffed out his chest and announced with pride, “We are members of the Royal Guard sent to escort you to the palace, Miss Witch.”
Doe-eyes nodded swiftly next to him, cowering slightly as you continued to glare at him.
“First of all, please never ever call me ‘Miss Witch’. My name is (y/n),” You uttered, completely unamused, “Second of all, what happens if I refuse your escort?”
The guards slid each other a look.
“Ah, I see,” You murmured, mood darkening even still, “Was there an implied ‘by any means necessary’ tacked on to the end of that sentence that I didn’t hear?”
“She’s a mind reader!” Doe-eyes gasped, leaping behind Happy and peering slightly around his shoulder at you.
You rolled your eyes at the sight of his quivering form, “Calm down, kid. I’m not into non-consensual mind reading.” Shooting the baffled duo a wink, you turned to open your door further. “Please, come in,” You insisted. It was obvious there was no avoiding your summons, but that did not mean your business would suffer.
“But our orders...” Happy failed to follow through with his attempted protest as he practically jumped past you into your little cottage. What an intense curiosity that one had, you mused. Meanwhile, the younger guard seemed more trepidatious, practically tiptoeing across the threshold and into your humble abode.
You shook your head at the way the two palace guards were quickly captivated by your gathered crystals, your worn spellbooks, and your wall of potion ingredients. Swiftly, you shelved the rest of the wolfsbane potion like you had tried to do before being interrupted.
Your clients would have to pick it up themselves. Scrawling a quick note to your fellow witch Sinestra about the recent events just in case, you vanish it to her with a snap of your fingers.
“Whoa,” Two awed voices sounded from behind you.
“It went ‘poof’!” Doe-eyes yelled, tugging on the sleeve of his fellow guard, “Did you see?”
“Do you want to go ‘poof’, too?” You smiled evilly, wiggling your fingers in his direction.
“Ah, hyung! She’s threatening me!”
“Get it together, bro,” Happy rolled his eyes. Turning to address you, he asked expectantly, “Ready to go now, (y/n)?”
“As I’ll ever be,” You muttered, grabbing your cloak from the rack by the door. Ushering the two men out before you, you quickly cast your protective charms on your home. Now, no one besides your most trusted clients should be able to enter.
Satisfied, you trailed behind the guards as they walked over to where their horses were tied to one of the many nearby trees surrounding your cottage. At least they didn't seem to be malicious in their intent. Their backs were to you, either a sign of trust or blatant stupidity. Only time would tell, you guessed.
"You'll ride with me," Happy smiled at you as he held his palm out for you to take. You shrugged, ignoring his hand to mount the horse on your own. "Alright then," The guard muttered as he seated himself behind you, "Let's go."
The journey towards the heart of the kingdom was not one you made often. It was only out of necessity that you sometimes ventured to the more expensive markets for key ingredients. The looming castle always stirred up inexplicable and foreign feelings of longing and fascination. You feared that actually entering it this time would be almost too overwhelming.
As the three of you made your way through the town you lived in, you received some tentative smiles and concerned looks from those in which you interacted with regularly. Visitors from the palace were rarities in these parts of the kingdom. You didn't blame people for being concerned by the guards’ appearance and by your departure with them.
The day wore on as you made your way through village after village, stopping only for a quick lunch. All too soon the palace appeared on the horizon. The looks you received from the townspeople were no longer cordial or concerned. They were full of suspicion and condescension.
You shrugged it off as best you could. You had bigger things to worry about - starting with whatever was waiting for you on the other side of the looming palace gates.
The large engraved metal doors swung open with your approach as Happy and Doe-eyes nodded to the guards posted there. Your breath caught in your throat. The castle was magnificent. The stone structure seemed to shine with a silvery sheen. Large stained glass windows gleamed from the many stories and towers adorning the palace. Vines wound their way up the walls despite the best efforts of the gardeners to stem their growth.
You stifled a laugh as one such gardener attempted to do so, but the vine refused to budge. Maybe there was some magic here after all.
Two other palace guards walked over to where the three of you had come to a stop inside the palace gates. Doe-eyes dismounted first and then offered a hand in your direction. This time, you decided to take the olive branch and accepted his assistance.
“Okay, ready?” Happy nodded at you and pointed towards the castle doors. “Let’s go. We don’t want to keep the kings waiting.”
“Oh, no,” You gasped, slapping a hand to your heart, “That would be a travesty.”
Doe-eye’s mouth quirked at the corners like he had stifled a laugh, while Happy spluttered something about respect. The short walk to the front entrance was much too short for your liking. You felt like you were walking to your doom - and maybe you were. The two guards had given you no clues as to the purpose of your summoning. That was such bullshit.
The heavy gold encrusted front doors creaked open as you approached. The foyer of the palace beckoned to you with that familiar pull. You sighed as you took in the expensive decor. From the shiny marble floors to the heavy purple drapery, you could see yourself living here all too easily. Why did you feel so called to this place? Well, you had always thought of yourself as a queen.
Laughing to yourself, you let yourself be ushered down an adjacent corridor to the right of the foyer. You barely noticed where you were headed since your attention lingered on the gorgeous paintings that lined the walls. You probably should have been more alert because you suddenly found yourself at the cusp of the throne room.
The second you entered the room your attention was captured by the two men lounging on elevated thrones at the focal point of the room. These must be the kings, you mused. You had never seen them in person before, but their reputations preceded them. Your magic surged as you neared the kings. Was there a threat nearby? You shift a glance throughout the wide hall.
Courtesans were scattered amidst large marble columns adorned with intertwining gold and silver accents. The majority of those gathered gaped at you in distaste, while a small handful simply spared a few curious glances. You couldn't spot a single person you knew in the bunch - not that you had expected to - nor could you find a source of outright danger.
Still, your magic thrummed louder within you as you continued on your way towards the kings.
Your heart sank. This was not a reaction based on imminent danger. No, you knew what this was; someone here was your soulmate. And, when your eyes finally landed on the two men who summoned you, you had to choke down the hysterical laugh that bubbled up inside you.
King Yoongi reclined lazily on his ornate silver and black onyx throne, his body lax but his eyes sharp. His laser-focused attention on you made your stomach flip. You held his gaze as best you could, taking in the delicate dark silk of his diamond encrusted tunic and the tousled auburn hair on which his silver crown resided. He was beautiful.
And he was your soulmate.
Could he feel the tether between you? Had he known about it somehow before you did? Was this why were you here?
Your eyes slid over to the right, unable to take the heat of King Yoongi’s gaze; King Namjoon’s curious eyes met yours. Unlike his partner, King Namjoon leaned forwards on his gold and emerald throne, avidly taking you in like you were a subject of study. And perhaps you were… You studied him right back. This king was no less intimidating in his scrutiny than the other. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands steepled in front of his face as he stared you down. The intelligence you saw within the depths of his brown eyes clued you in that this was a king that no one could fool.
And, since fate was clearly a bitch, he was your soulmate, too.
You came to a stop before the kings amidst the sea of murmuring courtiers. “Bow,” Doe-eyes whispered to you, urgently prodding you in the side with his hand. You only stood straighter. You bowed to no one, and you certainly would not bow to your soulmates - no matter their status.
“Leave us.” At King Namjoon’s command, the room emptied. Your two escorts remained behind you. “Hoseok, Jungkook, that includes you,” King Namjoon lifted his chin as he swished a hand in dismissal of the two guards.
“But, sire—”
King Yoongi spoke for the first time, effectively cutting Happy off, “Don’t worry, Hoseok. What can one little witch do to us?”
Oh, you could think of a lot of things. Your thoughts must have been written all over your face because King Namjoon glanced at you and immediately let out a deep chuckle.
Glaring at the two men before you, you decided that one way or another they would learn to respect you. The guards you now knew to be Hoseok and Jungkook exited the room, leaving you alone with the two kings - your two soulmates.
Now, it seemed that you were somehow in a staring contest with both of them at once. Fine, if they didn't want to talk, you would.
“So, nice weather we’re having, huh,” Your tone could not be any drier.
“Indeed,” King Namjoon quirked a half smile, and you realized you might be in over your head as his dimple made its first appearance.
You hated the whole power imbalance thing going on right now - the two of them sitting silently on an elevated platform lording over where you stood. Gathering all your dignity and lack thereof, you placed your hands on your ample hips and raised your eyebrows, “Well? Did you summon me just to stare?”
“No,” King Yoongi drawled, cupping his chin in his hand, “But you are quite delightful to look at, soulmate… That is, if this is your true form.”
You let the backhanded compliment simmer as King Namjoon chastised his partner, shooting him a warning look.
“Ah, yes,” You finally say, swiping at a nonexistent tear, “You’ve caught me. My true form is actually so old that it’s partially decomposed. Ah, silly me. I thought I would spare you from the grotesque monstrosity.”
King Namjoon burst into uproarious laughter. “Yoongi-ah,” He wheezed, “You’ve really met your match this time.”
Opposite him, King Yoongi scowled, “It was a fair question! The last witch that we summoned could shift into an owl.”
“You’ve met Helvetica?” You blinked, thinking of the only witch you knew with that ability, “She’s legendary.” Then, it registered. “Wait, what do you mean she was ‘the last witch you summoned’... Why have you been summoning witches left and right?”
“Isn’t it obvious now?” King Namjoon smiled, “We’ve been looking for you.”
“You see, (y/n),” King Yoongi purred your name, inciting a shiver down your spine, “Namjoon and I are also soulmates.” He gracefully shifted to his feet before walking down the few steps to where you still stood.
Circling you like a shark in water, King Yoongi continued, “But we had been feeling lonely despite our connection. We couldn't figure out why.”
“That’s right,” King Namjoon chimed in from his throne, “We tried everything to fill that void.”
“And we mean everything,” King Yoongi whispered in your ear, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.
“We were quite desperate,” King Namjoon laughed lightly. He, too, rose to his feet and made his way to stand before you.
Your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest from the sheer sensation of being caught in between these two beautiful men. King Yoongi continued to play with your hair from his position behind you. King Namjoon’s heavy gaze pinned you in place with its wicked intent.
“Desperate enough to contact King Seokjin of Andolia and request that his top Seer be sent to us to do a reading.” King Yoongi’s words caused you to jolt back slightly in shock. Andolia was known to be a more liberal kingdom than yours. It was a kingdom of magic, of carnal pleasure, of beauty.
Plus, King Seokjin was practically famous for his good looks and for his love of otherworldly entertainment.
“You outsourced from Andolia? Couldn't you just have asked one of the Seers here in Meridian?” It seemed absurd to you that these two kings reached out to another land so unlike their own for assistance - especially when you knew of at least four Seers in your own land.
King Yoongi and King Namjoon exchanged a look. “The Seers in our kingdom weren't exactly forthcoming, (y/n).” The taller king in front of you withered under your responding glare.
Could they really blame the Seers for not coming forward to help the very kingdom that had rejected them for so long? You certainly didn't think so.
King Yoongi continued, “Well, King Seokjin sent us his personal Seer Moonbyul… And imagine our surprise when she took one look at us and laughed.”
“‘No wonder you’re lonely! You’re missing one,’” King Namjoon quoted the Seer’s past words with air quotes. You had to bite down a smile over the cuteness of his action. “And not just anyone… a witch no less!”
His tone was light, jovial. You couldn't tell his feelings on your magical status no matter how hard you searched his twinkling brown eyes. Turning slightly, you assessed the other king who looked no less unreadable.
Still staring at King Yoongi, you questioned, “Okay, so you knew your other soulmate was a witch, and you just decided to summon every witch in Meridian to check them out? Do you have any idea how much that would scare us?”
The shorter king had the decency to look a bit embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. “I guess we were too excited by the prospect of finding you.”
You fought down the hopeful feeling inside you. There was no way these two actually wanted to keep your bond to them, right? Not in this economy…
“I’m just going to be straight up with you.” You pulled away from their hold and paced away to climb up a couple steps so you were finally the same height. “I think you searched for me because you want to sever our bond.”
The two kings moved to interrupt you, but you just held a palm in the air, “No, let me finish. Look, I’ve already come to terms with the fact that my soulmate wouldn't want to be tied to a witch. And why should I even want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me or my craft?”
You lowered your palm, effectively lifting the unspoken silencing charm you had cast on them.
The first thing that King Yoongi said once he recovered his voice was: “Damn, that was sexy.”
And the second? “I would rather sever my left arm than sever our bond.”
“Well,” You blinked as King Namjoon nodded emphatically besides his partner, “That’s a bit dramatic.”
“Please don’t write us off that easily, (y/n),” The taller king begged, “Don’t you feel it? The tether between the three of us? Can’t you see we were made for each other?”
Oh, you felt it. You felt the pull so deeply that you feared you might lose yourself within them.
But if the spark you felt for them was akin to a flame, you weren’t sure if you were the darkness longing to be brightened or the moth destined to be burned.
Would it be worth it to give up your current life to be with them? Could you leave Taehyung and your little cottage? Could you survive in a court that held no love for your kind?
Your prolonged hesitance clearly worried the two kings before you.
“What can we do to show you how much we want you here with us?” King Yoongi implored, his hand drifting out to clasp with King Namjoon’s.
Staring down at the unified front the kings presented, you realized that your soulmates could offer you so much if you let them. By accepting the bond, you could gain the ability to help others more broadly than just offering simple spells of assistance. You could feel safe and secure. And, you could even allow yourself to love and be loved.
“Hm,” You mused, “I think I need to take a seat.” You lounged on the very throne in which Yoongi had lazed just a half an hour prior.
“Just when I thought you couldn't get any more beautiful,” King Namjoon murmured as he stared up at you as you reclined on the silver and black throne.
King Yoongi hummed in agreement, “We’ll need to make hers resplendent just to even come close to her radiance.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” You lied, secretly basking in the warmth of their praises, “Would I really get my own throne? You’re not planning on shoving me in a far away tower?”
“We were fearful of this,” King Namjoon walked up to the foot of the throne with King Yoongi in tow. Pausing briefly, they both fell to their knees before you. King Namjoon continued, “We feared you would think the worst of us. And for good reason.”
King Yoongi’s gaze pleaded with yours as he explained his partner's words, “We grew up to be scared of magic. We were sheltered from it and were told falsehoods about its ‘malicious nature’. It wasn’t until a few years ago that we first travelled to Andolia and met King Seokjin that we realized how wrong we were.”
“We were ignorant,” King Namjoon said lowly, “We removed the outright ban on magic and supernaturals immediately, but unlearning such prejudiced ways has proven to be difficult for our kingdom.”
You took everything in. You did not doubt that they were being genuine; however, one thought still lingered in the back of your mind.
“If I stay here with you...” Both kings eagerly stared up at you and you rolled your eyes, “And I mean if I do, will you see me as an equal? Will you respect me as such?”
The kings exchanged a confused glance before replying that they already did. You weren’t convinced. You decided to lay everything on the table.
“Okay, but do you really respect me? Or do you just want to fuck me?”
“Do those have to be mutually exclusive?” King Yoongi asked, his hands clenched at his sides as if he was holding himself back from touching you.
Your lips quirked, “I suppose not.”
“Thank the gods for that,” He growled, “I’ve been hard since you sat on my throne.” Both kings moved forward with clear sensual intent, but you sent a wave of magic forward - effectively halting their movements.
Their eyes blazed with desire for you that you were certain was mirrored in your own. You take in the magnificence of the sight before you. Your two powerful soulmates on their knees before you, desperate to touch you, to taste you. Your eyes traveled over the expanse of Namjoon’s shoulders to settle on his black velvet and gold choker. Then, you shift your gaze to Yoongi and his long ring adorned fingers, the smooth skin of his chest that peeked from the v-neck of his tunic.
They really were quite a pair. What in the universe had you done to be fated to such beauty? You guessed you probably shouldn’t question it.
Waving away the magical barrier between you, you began, “Earlier you asked what you could do to show that you want me here with you.”
“That’s right,” Yoongi rasped, his heated gaze locked with yours as he lightly trailed a finger up your calf. Beside him, Namjoon inclined his head in agreement before taking your hand in his.
Trying to ignore the rising tension, you forged onwards. It was important that you made these points before this went any further. “Well, I have some requirements.”
Namjoon cracked a smile, “I would be disappointed if you didn’t, my soul.”
Your cheeks warmed at the endearment but didn’t let it distract you. “I want to draft an ordinance that explicitly declares equity for those with magical and supernatural abilities.”
“Done.” Your soulmates agreed in unison.
You paused. That had been almost too easy… “And also an amendment stating that discrimination against said subjects will not be tolerated by any means.”
“Agreed.”
You were on a roll now. “I like practicing magic. It’s a part of me. I don’t want to have to hide it.”
Namjoon pressed a kiss to your palm, “We don’t want you to hide it.”
“Your magic is beautiful, (y/n),” Yoongi’s hand slid further up your leg, “You should never feel like you have to hide an intrinsic part of yourself - especially around us.”
Your body burned under their touch, but you still held back. Were they just going to agree to any old thing you threw at them? “I also want ten thousand Burmese pythons.”
That took them a second to process. “We can easily get you around six hundred, maybe seven?” Namjoon squinted as he seemed to calculate the math in his head, “I’ll have to talk to our allies about trading for the remaining amount.”
Spluttering out a laugh, you shook your head, “I was just kidding about the snakes, my gods. Although… now that i think about it, maybe one would be cool?”
Yoongi pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. When had he pushed your skirt up that high? “Anything for you, my queen.”
It was official. You were ruined.
Your soulmates had effectively stymied your doubts and quelled your fears, leaving you with only the intense desire to be with them.
And so you caved. “That just leaves one last stipulation... You say you want me, need me. Well then show me how badly you want me to be with you.”
The words barely left your mouth before they were on you. Yoongi pushed your legs further apart so that he could get closer to you. His hands slid around your waist, tugging your body flush against him, and he fused his mouth with yours.
You smiled into his kiss as you felt Namjoon sidle up to you and begin to place fevered kisses across your collarbone. A witch could get used to this, you thought as Yoongi’s tongue tentatively swiped across your lower lip. What a good boy he was to not take more than you offered.
Your hands tangled into Yoongi’s silky strands before they came to a halt at his crown. Carefully, you slid the crown off his head and onto yours. Pulling away from Yoongi’s mouth slightly, you murmured, “Well? How’s it look?”
“You look like our queen,” Namjoon whispered hoarsely as Yoongi just looked at you like he might devour you whole.
At Namjoon’s words, you turned to face him, hooked a finger around the choker adorning his neck, and tugged his mouth onto yours. His hand immediately flew up to cradle your cheek as he kissed you as if you might slip away from him if he stopped. You almost laughed at how obvious it was to you now that Namjoon was the more dominant of the two.
He had just mastered the art of patience amongst the other things you only hoped you could have the pleasure of discovering. His teeth playfully nipped at your bottom lip, and you returned the affection in kind.
Meanwhile, Yoongi refused to let you forget about him as he settled into his position of kneeling between your legs. His lips kissed and sucked at your neck while his fingers danced up your thighs, taunting you with their light touch.
You decided you had been teased enough. Tugging away from Namjoon and shifting Yoongi back from you slightly, you paused briefly to focus your magic and then snapped your fingers. Your dress and undergarments disappeared from your body and reappeared a few steps away folded neatly.
“Fuck, I love magic,” Yoongi breathed as he takes in your naked body for the first time.
Without hesitation, you hitch one leg over one of the ornate arms of the chair. “Well?” You arched a brow, looking over your two speechless soulmates, “Are you just going to stare? Or are you going to get naked?”
The speed at which they shed their clothes almost gave your magic a run for its money.
You marveled at the two men before you, their bodies chiseled, their cocks hard.
“How do you want us?” Yoongi asked, practically thrumming with anticipation.
You arched an eyebrow at Namjoon, “Is he always this eager?”
The taller man grinned, “Occasionally, but this level is rare form for him.”
Yoongi scowled, “Please, Joon, like you aren’t dying to sink your cock into our soulmate’s pretty little pussy.”
“Oh,” You sighed, “Someone has quite a mouth on them… Why don’t we put that to good use while Joon teaches you some discipline.”
Not even thrown off at the notion of being punished, Yoongi gladly sunk to his knees before you once more. Namjoon hesitated, and you quickly realized the problem. Summoning your magic, you materialized some water-based lubricant for him.
“Yeah,” Namjoon laughed, “Magic is a fucking beautiful thing.” Taking the lube from you, he leaned down to prep Yoongi. “Ready?” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine. Yoongi nodded.
“Gods yes,” You barely finished your thought before Yoongi buried his face between your legs, his mouth immediately kissing and exploring your pussy. The first stroke of his tongue tore a moan from you as your back arched into the cool metal behind you.
“(Y/n),” Namjoon growled, “Look at me, my soul. Watch me fuck our soulmate while he tastes you. I want you to feel each of my thrusts in every jolt of his tongue.”
Despite not being one to typically take orders, the heat of Namjoon’s words pulled your attention immediately and the sight before you made it stay. You watched enraptured as Namjoon slowly sank his cock into Yoongi’s ass.
Yoongi groaned and the vibrations sent another rush of arousal through you as he continued to greedily tease your clit with his tongue. Your hands dug into his auburn waves, pushing his face harder against your pussy.
Namjoon slid out of Yoongi and then drove back in. The visual of his hard cock pumping feverishly in and out of Yoongi’s pert ass was indescribable when every stroke caused Yoongi’s tongue to thrust inside you and his nose to nudge against your clit.
“How does she taste, Yoongi? Is she as sweet as she looks?”
You scowled at Namjoon for causing Yoongi to pause his worship in order to answer. “She tastes like the fucking sun, Namjoon.”
“Now, that doesn’t even make sense— Fuck,” You moaned as Yoongi’s mouth sucked hard on your clit, effectively shutting you up. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you felt the arousal build and build inside of you. Your legs shook as Yoongi sucked and hummed on your clit as Joon continued to pound into him.
Your eyes focused on the sharp movements of Namjoon’s hip and the flexing of his muscles as he alternated in thrusting and rolling his hips. Gods, you wanted those hips to drive that cock deep inside of you.
“Does this please you, my soul?” Namjoon growled, “Do you like watching me wreck Yoongi while he gives you pleasure?”
“Y-yes,” Your breath hitched as Yoongi teasingly nipped at your swollen bud. “But I want you to wreck me and then I want to wreck you both.”
Namjoon’s thrusts stuttered to a halt as your words connected. Yoongi tore his mouth from your folds. Placing your foot on his forehead, you gently pushed Yoongi back so you could stand, “I want both of you inside me.”
Panting, Yoongi gasped, “Please, please wreck us, my queen.” His lips shone with your essence and you swiped a finger along their seam. Bringing your finger up to Namjoon’s plush lips, you tilted your head with a sly smile, “Well? You wanted a taste, didn’t you?”
Without a pause, he took your finger into his mouth, his tongue curling around the digit, tasting you. His dark eyes remained on yours as he released your finger with a pop. “So fucking divine,” Namjoon groaned, his hands darting out to grab your hips, his hard cock pressing into your stomach.
Yoongi once again mirrored Joon’s actions from behind you. You could feel his hardness against your ass, and you couldn't help but to grind slowly into him. “(Y/n),” Yoongi moaned into your neck as his cock practically throbbed with need for relief.
Tugging Namjoon closer to you, you whispered, “My love, go sit on your throne.”
Your soulmate appeared confused but nonetheless did what you said. Pausing only briefly to admire the way Namjoon looked on his throne, you extracted yourself from Yoongi and sauntered over to stand over Joon.
“You know,” You murmured, grabbing his cock firmly, eliciting a gorgeous moan from the man, “I think I want to sit on your throne, too.” Your hand stroked him teasingly as his head leaned against the back of his throne.
“As you wish, my soul,” He rasped out, his thighs tensing.
With that, you knelt over him. Immediately, Namjoon’s hands rested on your ass and squeezed. “What a greedy boy,” You murmured, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “That’s for Yoongi, my love. Or is my pussy not enough for you?”
As you spoke, you slowly sunk down his thick cock inch by inch. And at the mention of his name, Yoongi practically shoved Namjoon’s hands off your ass and replaced them with his. Echoing your own words, he teased the younger king, “Yeah, Joonie, don’t be greedy.”
Namjoon shot the two of you a half-hearted glare, but before he could say a word, you clenched your walls around him. “F-fuck,” He moaned, his eyes squeezed tight, “You feel so good around my cock, so wet.”
You slid up and down his length, reveling in the building heat consuming you. From behind you, Yoongi slowly teased your other opening. The coolness of his finger assured you that he had done this before. His finger slid into my ass with ease, the lube no doubt helping with that. You both moaned.
“You like that, my queen?” Yoongi growled, beginning to push his finger in and out.
“Oh my gods, yes,” You felt wild from the sensation of being so full of your soulmates, but you couldn't help but want more. “Want your cock inside me, too, Yoongi.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” He responded, pulling his finger out of you. After a moment, you felt the gentle nudge of his cock head against your ass. You stilled your motions, bottoming out on Joon’s dick as you waited with anticipation of being stuffed full with both of them.
Slowly, inch by inch, Yoongi pushed into you. “Fuck,” He bit out, “Joon, I can feel you.”
You felt so satisfied as Yoongi’s hips pressed into you, his cock buried deep inside you.
Namjoon’s cock twitched inside you as he no doubt could feel Yoongi right back. “Please, my soul, I need to fuck you. Let us fuck you,” He begged, gazing down at you with pupils blown out wide.
“No,” You shook your head emphatically, “I’m going to fuck you.”
With that, you started riding Namjoon’s cock. Moving up and down his thick shaft, you guided Yoongi’s hands to your hips as he thrust in and out of you in time to your movements. Every time you sank down on Namjoon’s shaft, Yoongi thrust into your ass. It was exquisite.
You felt your orgasm coiling within you, burning brightly. You squeezed down, trying to prolong the sensation, rolling your hips.
“Godsdamn,” Yoongi moaned, “Your ass is so tight, my queen. I’m not going to last much longer.”
You shook your ass slightly just to tease him. Yoongi responded by biting your neck and muttering, “You’re such a witch.”
“You fucking know it,” You gasped out as Namjoon suddenly rolled your clit between his fingers. Pleasure shot through you as you writhed on top of them. Your walls clenched down as you hurtled towards bliss, your world going white.
You could feel both of them coming inside you, painting your walls. The heat of their releases only added to the intensity of your orgasm as you flew over the edge, milking them with every pulse of your pussy.
Slowly, you came down from your high, breathing hard. Collapsing against Joon’s chest, you nuzzled his neck.
You felt his chuckle before you heard it, “I think we tired her out, Yoongi.”
“Yes, I think so, Joon,” Yoongi replied, slowly pulling out of you, “Let’s get you cleaned up. We have a private hot spring just outside.”
Not one to be outdone, you straightened, hopping off Joon. Placing your hands on your hips, you leveled each of them with a devilish smile, “Hey, maybe I was pretending to be satisfied for your benefits, you old men.”
“Old!?” Yoongi bellowed, so easily riled up.
“Hmm,” Namjoon’s arms encircled you, hugging you to him. Bringing his mouth to your ear, he whispered, “You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you, my soul?”
“Undoubtedly,” You whispered back as Yoongi still fumes over being called old. Yeah, a witch could really get used to this.
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
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