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No Need To Fear {Moira & Mercy, Angst}

After an Attack on an Overwatch and Blackwatch Meeting, Moira and Angela are trapped in the rubble. A lone window on the ceiling their only escape, Angela the only one able to reach it. Yet, as Fate wished it, Angela is badly injured and in need of medical attention, Moira the only one that could heal her. But does she trust the sadistic scientist to keep her promise?

Angela Ziegler knew better than to trust Moira O'Deorain. She knew better, she should have known better. For years, she had despised her methods, had resisted a collaboration between the two, had decidedly pushed everything away Moira had offered.

Moira just wanted to advance her research, she wanted to surpass death, but she was ruthless. Angela knew that very well. Blackwatch was a disgrace in her mind. Out of hand, uncontrollable and wild. Blackwatch was evil, more so because of the fellow scientist hired.

Angela always met Moira with disdain, dismissive and absolute. Judging her Methods and morals, yet Moira remained unbothered. Calm. Objective set on discovering her revival technology. No, she had long ago made up her mind. Never would she put her trust in Moira, never would she work together with her and never would she believe her words.

Moira had escaped the attack unscathed, Mercy — Angela — had not. Angela was in her Mercy Uniform, the Wings in her back, fitting to her name, bleeding profusely. A part of the protective armour was shattered, flesh exposed underneath and Moira could already tell what a disaster it was, shrapnel and dirt in her open wound, if she was lucky, she could get it out. If only Angela would let her.

Angela's mind was fuzzy, edges blurring and her thoughts mixing into a muddy soup. But she stood strong, slapping away Moira's hands, whenever she caught the slender, bony limbs reach and touch. “My staff”

Moira had already looked for the staff, partially because she wanted to look at it, understand it, but mainly because a great mind like Angela's shouldn't be lost because of stubbornness. She had pulled it out of rubble, and while she was unsure about how it worked, it was broken in multiple pieces. It somehow looked alive inside, and if it was, it wasn't anymore. It had burned and soot was covering the shiny metal.

Angela knew she couldn't fix her staff in time. They were trapped anyway, and Moira needed her if she wanted to escape — there was a window above them, but it was too high for the Irish Woman to reach, even with using the rubble as a vantage point. The highest she got was her long fingernails barely scraping along the glass. Moira had no choice. She was the one who had it. If she would let Moira help her, surely she wouldn't do anything stupid?

Moira had tried breaking the window and failed. The explosion had caged them in, it was a miracle the godforsaken window stood strong, albeit a terribly timed miracle. She clicked her tongue as she walked quickly over to Angela, her shoes clicking against the floor, as she knelt down. “Let me help you, Angela. I promise I won't do anything, all you have to do is trust me.”

Angela had trusted Moira once. Back when they were still in med school, she had trusted her and Moira had coldly used it against her. Angela knew Moira, she knew her nature, she knew Moira wouldn't be able to resist another betrayal of trust, it's what she did to everyone, she didn't care. But Angela cared. At least she would have, her mind was too unfocused, too messy. She couldn't grasp a single thought, and as Moira's hands grasped at the Armour, she couldn't lift herself to stop her, her hands not raising as she tried. She was so weak, so tired.

Moira smiled, as she tugged the armour off, Angela pale and sweaty, as she looked at the wound, taking out the shrapnel with her medical equipment she carried with. Angela flinched and yelped at the pain, but Moira was undeterred. She lifted Angela's undershirt, securing it with a loose knot so it wouldn't fall over the wound steadily leaking blood. Threatening words left Angela's mouth, but the vigor behind it was missing, so Moira continued.

Angela was helpless. She watches as if dazed, as Moira took out a bottle of disinfectant, but instead of doing it properly, she poured it into the wound, a wicked smile on her features. Angela couldn't help but scream, it hurt so bad. Suddenly filled with adrenaline and pain, she pushed Moira from her slumped body, as she turned, trying to crawl along the wall. She wouldn't get far, she couldn't, with them being trapped, but she sure would try.

Moira wasn't pleased. It wasn't the first time her patients went running. Sometimes she let them, only to chase them afterwards - sometimes, it was just thrilling fun, but not this time. Scoffing, Moira reached for Angela's shoulders, roughly spinning her around before pointedly seating herself on her hips, pinning her down. Angela yelled, thrashed. The wound leaked more blood and Moira got angry. She didn't want Angela to die of blood loss, that wouldn't do. Extending her right arm, she aimed at the other Overwatch employee, also injured but already unconscious, extracting his life force, before showering Angela in the soft, warm, sharply stinging healing spray.

Angela was surprised at first, she was scared, afraid of Moira but Moira had actually helped her. She retracted her hands from trying to punch and push Moira, as Moira reached out. Her expression was neutral, as she softly grabbed her hands, and then, in less than a second, Angela was helpless again. Her hands were pinned over her head with Moira's right hand as she could only watch how Moira pulled a syringe out of her med kit, the contents purple like her biotic grasp, before she injected it right where her old wound was.

Moira watched as Angela lay there, helpless and restrained, only able to wait for the effects of whatever Moira had just injected her to kick in. Moira, of course, knew what she had injected her fellow scientist with. Soon, Angela would feel nauseous, she'd fall unconscious before the chemical could actually fulfill it's true purpose — making her a slave to Moira, just like she had chained Reyes, Amélie and Siebren.

If Angela was a merciful Angel, Moira was a ruthless Demon, but Moira wouldn't want it any other way, after all, how else could she achieve her goals? Angela Ziegler's technology in her hands… Well, technically, Angela Ziegler herself. There was no one who could stop her now. Moira looked towards the window at the top. Maybe she would die before Angela would succumb to her pain and help Moira. But she could rest easy, knowing how close she came.

Two Sinners Can't Atone From A Lone Prayer {Reiner Braun}

Reiner Braun was a warrior, a proud man of Marley. But maybe he wasn't so proud, maybe he didn't like Marley at all. Maybe he despised his home, his family, himself. Maybe he just wanted to die, to avoid all this guilt and shame.

Content wraning: Suicidal thoughts, AoT typical violence and Trauma, Reiner Braun being Reiner Braun

He had spent his life living for anyone but himself. Reiner Braun, the son loving his mother so much he would die for her. Reiner Braun, the son who became a warrior for his mother. Reiner Braun, the child sent to war to protect his mother. It was no surprise that by the end of his 13 years he wanted to die. It was no surprise he wanted to choose how to go out, and yet, he had been denied that sweet release every single time.

He had seen wars and blood and death, had killed more people than most in the world when he was still a child. He had been tasked with genocide of an entire civilization when he was 12. Most other children would fawn over cars and races and get into fights with the neighbours kids about some girl they liked and get home to an angry mother and fresh food, and he was strategically plotting how to doom an entire nation, in the name of peace.

Of course, he didn't know then, that it wasn't peace. It was fear, it was war. He was a slave, a slave to anyone who gave him orders. It wasn't his fault, of course, it was the fault of the world, the people around him. It was the fault of Eldia, Marley, his mother, the soldiers… When Marcel died they should have returned, but he pressed on. They weren't about to throw away their chance at 'peace' just because of one death. It was his fault of course, the horror, the dread he felt when he had seen the overgrown titan leap out of the ground, seen Marcel get caught by the titan, seeing him get stuffed between his teeth, the sound of bones as they were crushed, heard his screams upon the pain Marcel felt. He was frozen. What could he have done? Marcel was the leader, he was suited far better for this entire job than him. Maybe Porco had been right, he didn't deserve the Armoured Titan. Then they broke the first wall, a team effort just for a chance to mix under the people — no — the monsters who caused all this suffering. The monsters who followed their leader, the founding Titan, who worshipped him, who praised him…

And they screamed. Ran. They behaved like… Like people. Getting eaten, crushed, trampled. They tried to save their dogs, cats, horses, their children, their wives. They didn't look so different. He enrolled in the Survey Corps with only one intention but at that point. Everything had already started to shift. He had dreams of being a warrior, dreams of being a soldier, and everything seemed to muddle up. Until, eventually, he wasn't Reiner Braun, the son living for anyone but himself anymore. He had become Reiner Braun, the friend and soldier finally making his own decisions. But it was fleeting, like a beaten dog always returning to its owner for food, he always found his way back. Escaping. Into this false reality where Eren wasn't a threat, a reality where he could just be what he was — a teenager, even if he was very mature and enrolling in yet another military. It was an escape, a dream, a wish.

And then they stood on that roof, discussing their plans, before they realized their fatal mistake: Marco. Reiner didn't think. At that moment, he was a warrior. Anything for his success. Everything was only for his success. No matter what or who he had to sacrifice. Marco was a sweet boy, nice and forthcoming, the exact opposite of these “monsters” he had been taught about. He felt with Annie when she hesitated, as he held him down. And then, he stood there, watching Marco getting gobbled down like a small snack. And he fled. How? How could he do this? Marco was his friend, no, his enemy, but what enemy that forgave him? It hurt, in his chest and in his brain, so he shut everything down. And then-

Wait, why was Marco getting eaten?

The second breaking of the wall was a plan. A return to the trauma he experienced. He knew how much damage he'd done. He'd seen the way they screamed, ran. Escaped for naught as they got caught and eaten and trampled and thrown. It was so similar. It was calculated and carefully crafted, but yet, there was a panic inside of him. He did his job, but by god, if there was one, how he just wanted to run. To die. They were just humans, just like him, his family, his mother, like all those who looked down on eldians, there was no difference. Not when they ran and screamed, terrified of the giants invading their home, their sanctuary. What was he doing, torturing, killing innocents? Children, people the farthest away from responsible for the crimes of their ancestors? People oblivious to their criminal past? Who was he, who were they to play judge?

And then, there he was — Eren, a Titan, no, not just any Titan. The Attack Titan, their goal, their mission. This was their objective, yet still his heart seemingly stopped beating. Eren was their mission. But the boy was reasonable, was he not? He was a Titan shifter, they definitely could talk to him, he hated Titans as much as they did, they could argue, he could convince him, he certainly could. So the next plan was set in motion. And from then on, everything seemed to fail miserably. The kidnapping backfired, Annie got captured, they nearly died, so then, Reiner made a decision.

Maybe his next decision already was one of tragedy, the stupid idea he had to tell Eren, tell him in front of basically everyone. The few feet of distance, what would they do? He didn't want to risk Bertholds life, yet he did, and his as well. A risk he took, a risk he nearly had to pay the price for. Precious seconds the difference between his death and survival, yet he survived. Maybe, he would ask himself later, maybe that already was the point where he wanted to die. The first attempt at a suicide, possibly. In the end, it all clumped together in his memory, a haze over his intentions and experiences, yet they still stung as clear as day. What was he doing?

Berthold died alone. And it was his fault. He couldn't protect him, he wasn't even there for him. No. He had to be saved, he had to be carried away, after loosing three titans, of which they only got back one, loosing a fourth was not an option. Reiner had failed. As a leader, a friend, a fighter, a warrior. He had failed Marley, failed to save his family, he was cursed with failure, and he was destined to forever be the symbol of incompetence. So they returned to Marley, while he grieved his only real friend. He was miserable. Reiner had failed at the easiest of tasks, he was supposed to be one of the best warriors of Marley, of the world, yet maybe they had been right. He wasn't prepared. He wasn't fit for this role. If only Marcel would have been alive. If only he would have died instead.

Marley was miserable, just like on Paradis, they lived in a cage, unlike on Paradis, he was a caged dog on a leash, a slave for war. He was home, yet he didn't feel farther away from home than he felt on Paradis. The fights, the senseless rage that Marley instilled into the next generation of warriors, it was nonsensical, complete lies fabricated in order to boost this way of thinking in black and white, their worldview. It was brainwashing at its finest. And now, as he was older, with what he saw himself, it seemed so clear, how could he have fallen for these blatant lies? The blatant propaganda? Marley was loud in such a different way to Paradis. The amount of times he wished he could just die, it was ridiculous. Yet somehow, he survived. He had been so close so often, rifle propped against the floor, the icy muzzle pressed into the wet cavern of his mouth, leftover gunpowder mixing with his saliva. Adrenaline pumped, his finger on the trigger. In less than a second, it all could be over. It would be over.

And he didn't shoot.

If only he had been strong enough to pull that trigger, he wouldn't have had to face Eren. Of all people, that boy a little bit too much like him, he may not have been a boy anymore, yes, but yet again, Reiner found himself begging for death, and again, he was not to be granted the release he so desperately sought. Again he was denied, and again he saw screaming, crying, running. Death. Another battlefield. Another detestation. Another Nightmare to add to his list.

The last mission. For one last time, an attack on Paradis. Return the Titans, stop them. That familiar haven, the familiar city and walls, years spent, wasted here, the place of his failure, the place of his sorrows. And finally, he was on the floor, he was ready to sacrifice himself, save one of the children, die at least in a meaningful way, he had surrendered. He was prepared. He had said his goodbyes, as there were none left to say. And then. Of course, even with his armour undone, his flesh nearly bitten through, there was something bound to get in his way. Another friend, another teammate lost.

Why was he surviving? Why was he the one everyone chose to safe? Why, why, why?

God, how he hated himself. How he wished he had pulled the trigger before meeting Eren again. If only he had accepted his fate. If only his mother wouldn't have pushed him. If only he wasn't born an eldian. If only he wasn't born at all.

And in the end, 80% of humanity had died. And he was still standing. So many of his friends were dead, his family was dead. Annie survived. God, how he had hated her at the start, how he had despised her way of icy rebellion. And now, they stood side by side and there was nothing he wanted to complain about. Reiner wondered if it had all played out differently, if he wouldn't hate himself so much if only he had been born on Paradis, together with his… was he allowed to calm them friends? He has betrayed them, attempted to kill them, was he really in the right to call himself a friend? The others didn't seem to mind, yet even after they decided to return to Paradis, he still couldn't shake, couldn't comprehend.

Why was he the one to survive?

The Way You Taste {Eustass Kid X Fem! Reader}

Finally you meet each other again. After months of each of you leading your own crews, one a small island you both run into each other. And so, when you two decide to have a joined party in remembrance of past combined battles. You two just happen to be on a cliff in the woods, away from the party celebrating your reunion by yourself.

18+ content

teasing, worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetration, riding, temperature (metal = cold), outside sex (woods)

The night was dark, the stars seemed to have disappeared, just like the moon, the waves crashed into the rocky shore, the wind cold on your skin and the grass wet beneath you. You shivered, an ice-cold and bulky hand running up your body, clothing already long discarded on the grass. His golden gaze piercing your soul as he stared at you, he was lowered to the ground, his body just inches above yours as he felt you shiver and looked towards your stomach, the goosebumps rising. His hair wasn't all done up anymore, falling down his face, his clothing discarded as well long ago. He had just been admiring you, worshipping you, on this cliff in the woods, faint noises of the party on your ships reaching you, but going unnoticed, both of you too enraptured with each other.

His muscles flexed a little, eyes flickering up at you and then back to following his cold metal hand as it reached your breast, tracing along the outline before slowly running one of the icy fingers over it. You whimpered at the touch, and his eyes flicked onto your face. Kid lowered his head, giving your stomach a small kiss as he let his prosthetic fill his grip with your soft breast. Another whine escapes your throat, as you arch into him. The brute over you hums, a deep, low, delicious sound that made you shiver. Or was that the cool night air? His face still rests lightly against your stomach, his prosthetic lightly kneading you soft flesh, before the cool metal retracted. You nudged him with your leg, not wanting him to stop. He felt so hot, skin burning like the sun on a summer island, it spread through you but was quickly replaced by a chill again, the wet grass blades tickling your skin, the uneven earthy ground digging into your back.

You didn't mind, for him you wouldn't mind bathing in lava, if it meant you could see his gorgeous face and body. His eyes pierced yours, intense eye contact that made you nearly shy away, but god, why did it have to be this hot? His hair looked so good framing his face, his googles giving them free, and he looked like a god. That hungry gaze, nearly devouring you, nearly like a hunter ready to jump onto its prey, and it made you shiver again, this time, not from the cool air or his cold metallic hand. His shoulders were broad as he held himself up with his good hand. Now slowly shifting onto his right arm, the muscles playing above you. The scars adorning his body, the nasty ones from his face all the way to his abs and to where metal met skin. The two slashes on his good arm, if he would let you, you'd kiss all over him, but he wouldn't let you, too afraid he'd become too soft on you, as if he wasn't already. His hand touched you, heat spreading through your veins like a fire spreading through a forest, and all you could think of was him. Ethereal and eternal, like an angel. A devious and dangerous angel.

And you craved more. Your hand reached out, touching right above his heart and feeling the faint thumping underneath his skin, and it seemed to beat impossibly fast, but yours was beating just as much, so you paid it no mind. Slowly sliding it over the edges of muscles nearly visible, little hills and valleys on his skin, lower. His hand wrapped around yours, bringing it back up before it could even touch his belly button. He hummed against your hand, as he kissed your knuckles. All tame and pretty, handsome and infatuated. There was nothing but adoration and lust in his gaze as he slowly, oh so slowly traced kisses down your body. An eternity he spent kissing each inch of your neck and shoulders, another he spent worshipping your chest. Your arms smeared with red lipstick, your hand with the pretty black nail polish he wore as well dug into his hair, tugging him down, but he held fast. Not even wavering in his stance, not movable for even an inch.

His lips on your stomach, your thighs, his eyes closed savoring you like he would only have you this once. Maybe it would be the last time. Maybe it wouldn't. He looked so pretty, and you felt worshipped like a goddess being adored by a follower, by a fellow god, a servant worshipped by its god of lust, of desire. His red hair was such a pretty shade, oh how you wished to keep him forever. It nearly felt like forever for his lips to finally touch you where you wanted him most. First soft kisses all around your lips, then even small soft kisses on your clit, before his tongue finally darted out, tasting your fluids already leaking out of you, teasing you just right. You held your breath, your heart beating like you were running for your life, maybe, in a sense, you were. Running to give Kid everything he desired, even if it was your life. Running to take from him everything he was willing to offer, running to take his heart and swallow it, cherish it. He hummed and moaned, the cool night air nearly forgotten with how hot you two were running.

Everything about him was perfect, his tongue just as much. He knew you like he knew his ship, every quirk and every scar and everything that made you feel good. He licked at you, sucked your clit, you could even hear him audibly drink, heard him swallow in the mostly quiet night. Then, his tongue finally penetrated you, the skilled muscle moving expectedly inside of you, his wet lips smearing their red lipstick all over you. Your hands grasped at his hair, that wonderful red clouding your vision. He groaned, his eyes opening, staring at you. That golden hue haunting you in your dreams, That near predatory gaze fixed on you like you were all he ever craved. Even if it wouldn't be true, right now, on nights like these, you don't think you would find it in yourself to care. Not with the way he worshipped you, not with the way he loved you. His nose rubbing against your clit, his one hand holding, bruising your hip, the cold metal one resting on your stomach, like an assurance, he got you. And you melted into his touch, mewling and moaning like you were all alone in the world, it definitely felt like you were. The wetness of the grass forgotten, the night sky sparkling with stars upon stars, looking down at you from above, but they barely registered, too focused on the man between your legs, thighs squeezing his head just the way he loved it.

Curses left your throat, choked out words, incoherent moans, needy whimpers. He swallowed everything eagerly, every syllable leaving you, every single tiny sound, how it riled him up even more, his hips pushing harshly against the floor, rubbing them back and forth shallowly, some small relief for the desire he felt, eating you out like it was his favourite meal. He pushed you higher, closer to your climax, his hand slowly, teasingly tracing along your folds, threatening to push in alongside his tongue, pushing in only the tiniest amount before he pulled it back out. His painted nail shining in your fluid, not quite dripping but still slowly cascading down his finger, before you could feel the edge of his trimmed nail pressing perfectly onto your clit, before he shifted to use his finger bed, slowly circling it, constant pressure pushing you as far as he wanted you to, seeing you fall apart, it was the true meaning of intoxication, he was addicted and you were the drug. Pushing you past the edge. With a wail of his name, legs clenching impossibly tight around his face, his cheeks squished together, the flesh of your thighs moulding around his face.

He moaned into your warm cunt as he sucked and licked all the juices from it, before sliding back up to you, giving you a sloppy kiss, all teeth clashing against teeth and tongue pushing as far into your mouth as possible, lipstick smearing against lipstick, black mixing with red smears, his hands grabbing at everything they can, waist, hips breasts. The desperate way such a harsh contrast to the worshipping you had just witnessed, nothing unusual of course, but still something that made your heart flutter. Softly placing a hand on his shoulder, you pushed him away and like warm butter, he followed without hesitation, he didn't doubt you for a second as you pushed him to his knees, then further back until he was the one laying down. You climbed on top, one leg on each side before grabbing his dick and guiding him to slip in, all throaty moans as he finally felt the warm, wet enclosure of your pussy.

He grabbed at your hips, a bruising hold, deliciously painful, even if he didn't guide you, no, not yet. You leaned forward, hands grabbing onto his muscles, gliding, scratching, groping. Then you moved, and that was when he started to help you. He moaned out curses, praises, his pupils blown wide, as he watched your body, watched the way your tits moved, your thighs, the plush fat on your thighs and belly and arms. Watched your face, as you lost yourself in the same pleasure he felt. He was otherworldly to you, and you were godly to him. It was mutual. It was perfect, it was honest and pretty and god be damned, it was hot. You haven't had him in months, and now that you finally had him again for a single night, you just wanted it to last forever. Moans and grunts, breathy whimpers filled the deep night, stars twinkling above you, yet he couldn't care less. It was all you, only you to him, and to you, there was only him. The cool air made you tremble, or was it your approaching high? His cold hand stayed on your hip, as his other reached up and first firmly squeezed your breast, before moving to your neck and pulling you down into feverish kisses. You both were a mess. A pretty mess and perfect, and as you moaned his name, you felt him twitch and tremble for a moment, before feeling how his hot semen seeped out of him, into you. But you weren't done, and he would be damned to not let you, so continuing to guide you with his hand, his flesh one slipped down your body, slowly rubbing at your clit with so much pressure it was nearly hurting, but the joint pleasure plus the words he started to whisper between kisses were so tempting, you shuddered and shivered, cumming on his cock with another moan of his name.

Kid held you close, letting you rest and catch your breath, before you two would eventually get dressed and return to your respective ships. It was only for tonight until fate would lead you to each other again, but yet, seeing him leave with the fresh memory of yesterday night, it felt sad. You had chosen your path. So had he, being rivals for the biggest treasure in the entire world, there was no way you would work together, and while you solemnly swore you'd find it yourself, you didn't think you'd mind if he found it first. Of course, you knew what this feeling was, but you were not yet ready to admit it, not when you knew where he was heading off to. Not when you knew he would probably die. If he did. Maybe one day, you could be wherever you go with him, together for however long you were fated to stay.

Okay I was absent for a really long fucking time. I've been working on the Spotify wrapped OneShots and a FanFiction again for my alt account (will it see the light of day? Hm, maybe)

I also have been busy with being sick, university assignments for the first semester (I despise group projects), and also a visit from online friends so I wasn't writing a whole lot, I also have some things to figure out with the Spotify Wrapped OneShots (the last one was a slay apparently, thanks for all the love, i actually squealed like a fox when I saw the reblogs <3)

And yeah, BUT, I got a proofreader app to fix my mistakes! And the next one will be up some time soon, I gave it to a friend to read over because I wanted to make sure the things I tried for it actually work (i hope they do, I tried something new!) and I'll see y'all with the new OneShot!

Also: would you prefer SoundCloud or Spotify links for the songs?

Seven Minutes in Hell {Breakup! Eustass Kid X Reader}

You have been treated badly one too many times. It's time to leave your Boyfriend behind

Shit hasn't been well, this song slaps and let's get this shit show started!

Ofc kinda angsty(not really though?, but on god Reader deserves freedom (Dw, my pookie will get another actual One shot soon lmao, hopefully as tasteful as the song but lbfr i'll probabky flump it again)

Anywho, let's get it started

Admittedly, your relationship with Kid was everything but healthy. He was loud and didn't really care about if you had to stand up in the morning, police called to your place more than once for loud screaming and arguments. There were his guy friends, his crew, that were obviously higher on his priority list than you — far higher. The amount of times he nearly went to jail for them, you'd thought Kid would have learned his lesson, but alas he never did. And you? Well, you seemed to only be there for one thing — stress relief. If that meant fucking you and screaming at you, something even throwing random stuff at you he found in the house, well, that was for him to decide on the whim.

If at least the sex was good, but even that was all about him. It was like the world revolved around him and only him and everyone had to do what he wanted. Well, too bad for him, you had enough. Years of misery finally snapping to a close, you decided he wasn't worth your time anymore. You were done with being treated like an old-timey housewife of the Middle Ages. You had packed your things while he was out with his friends again, ready to leave. There was no way in hell however you would want to miss his face when you confronted him, oh how you imagined he'd look. Would he be upset, would he scream at you again, only proving your point?

You put your last bag in your best friend's trunk, she had been kind enough to lend you a hand in her endeavor. If it went how she wanted to, you probably wouldn't even have started this relationship, but now she just sat ready to drive, the box of glitter she brought still sitting on the back seat as she gave you a last encouraging nod to take it. You didn't and went back inside, letting her know it could get late — she waited, of course. And you went back inside.

Kid was expecting food on the stove when he came back home, he didn't even notice your shoes missing on the shoe rack out front when he unlocked the apartment, but he did notice one thing — all that decor he had absolutely despised missing. He even smiled triumphantly before he realised the missing smell of fresh food. Kicking off his boots haphazardly, he stopped into the kitchen and saw you on your phone, sitting on a chair at the table. "Yo, what's with food?" "I won't make you food anymore."

There was a silence, a calm before the storm. You put your phone in your back pocket before he could fly off the handle, just in time. "What the fuck?! You're not even gonna make me food now, what are you even worth?!" You let him have his little temper tantrum, before you sighed. "We're done, Kid. I'm worth far more than you, and by all means... I really hope you never get another partner in your life, my god" He seethed, his face contorting in anger, but he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, words missing on his tongue and voice dying in his throat. "Oh, and uh, I'm moving out. Like today." You shrugged.

All the tension in him seemed to snap at once, as he lunged forwards, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you against the wall. His metal fingers pressing down hard, actually restricting your airway. "You fucking bitch have the audacity to come in here, live here for years, be absolutely useless to me, then up and leave? No, no, you don't get to do that!" "Well, I was good enough to make you food. And to get you off, apparently. Also, you hurt me in any way, I won't hesitate to call the police, I only need to press one button right now." He huffed, he really seemed like a bull trapped in a ring with gladiators, just that this was no real fight. "Don't fucking pretend like you didn't like this shit, wasn't that part of the reason you even came here in the first place?"

"It was, at the start" You smiled. "You just kind of… Put me through hell, not gonna lie. Like, you've gotten so bad in bed, it's actively hell. Like I'm just there, and honestly, no. Not even a thank you, no — just no." His hands clenched into fists, and for a second you thought you had crossed the line, as he raised his hand, before he turned, smashing the table with his prosthetic. "Get out you fucking whore! Get out, or I swear I'll rip your fucking throat out!" You didn't need to get asked twice, running to your friends' car, who looked at you worriedly, but you smiled as you hoped into the passenger seat. "Drive, Drive!" And without a word, she started the car as you began laughing. Finally, you were free again.

Spotify Wrapped OneShots

Done

Skipped

Already done before

Red Windows {Cloud Strife}

Go F*ck Myself (GFM) {Eustass Kid}

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND {Eustass Kid}

Love Like Mine - Stella Cole

Daylight {Reiner Braun}

The Scorpion and the Frog/Trust Me {Moira & Mercy}

An unhealthy Obsession - Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra

Atlantis

Ghosts & Monsters

Thanatos (End of Us)

Black Fire

Gladiator

Main Attraction

Cigarettes & Feelings

That's All (The Villain's Lair)

Stuck Inside

Friends

EVIL

Jesus He Knows Me

SUCKER4PAIN

Eat Your Young

Beautiful is Boring

ur a zombie

Sweet Talk

Kill the Witch

Return to Versailles

Bad End Theatre - True End Ver.

Silver Screen

Play with Fire

Meddle About

Gambling Man

Mad IQs

Empire

Night Eyes

Everything Moves

Halo

Identity

Smooth Operator - Single Ver.

Dance to Forget

Blood & Glitter

Sometimes

Unknown (Till the End...)

Losemyhead

Take Me To Church

Play Date

Survive

Six Feet Under

Black Sorrow

Looking Like This

Polyphemus

Who is she ?

TUNNEL VISION

Messed Up

Egoist - Jenna Holiday

Pass The Knife

VOID

Autotheist

Tot Musica

She Keeps Me Up

THE CONTORTIONIST

Babooshka - 2018 Remaster

Punching Bag

BABY SAID

Don't Forget

Bones

Choke

Cellophane

Achilles

Below the Surface

Love Me Dead

CREMATE YOUR LIFE

Hands up! - Slowed

You're in Love - Joe Hisaishi

La goire à mes genoux

LOST IN PARADISE

DEATH

Engel

The Red Means I Love You

Pomegranate Lips

Simping For The Villain

Light of the Sun (Sun Wukong)

Always Come Back

The Horse and the Infant

Intruder (Mandela Catalogue Song)

Lady of the Dark

Happy Face

Cross My Heart I Hope U Die

Human Robot

Crows

You're so Creepy

This Is Love

cult leader

505

engravings - Ethan Bortnick

NYMPHOLOGY

LOSER

Crazy About You

The Toybox

Take the World by Storm

Old Money

Red Windows {Cloud Strife x Reader}

I've been gone for a long while working on like, 10 different drafts on and off while also managing life (it's stressful rn, ngl) but let's get to a different thing I wanted to do (so I have more stuff to work on :3)

Considering Spotify wrapped was released a bit ago, I will work on OneShots based on my wrapped, they're gonna be smaller though, since I'm trying to rekindle my passion for writing. Also, of course, I keep my right to skip any song, the only songs I 100% will do are song in my top 5, also song I already based a OneShot off do not get a second one unless i want to. Anyways, I know I ALREADY wrote something with this song, but I'm gonna be honest... I hate it. So let's change that! (this one is a lot better but I still don't like it, anywho)

First up:

The music in the club was loud, nearly deafening as you sat down near the bar, your drink right in front of you. The main lights were dimmed, wildly coloured spotlights roaming on an automated path through the room, some device near the ceiling creating a colour-changing star pattern on the floor. There was a dance floor at the farthest wall, even though most people just danced wherever they wanted to. The barkeeper was rushing around behind the bar, due to some misfortune, all alone this evening.

Taking another sip of your drink, you watched the crowd. It all seemed to blur together, like it was all distant, until you looked back at your drink, the liquid a light blue hue due to whatever juice the mocktail was mixed with. Some people were obviously singing along with the music, their voice drowned out by the bass running through you body, shaking the floor and glasses. Watching over the crowd, your eye got caught on multiple couples, some just looking great, some dancing in a ridiculous manner, others getting a tad bit too handsy. Adverting your gaze again, you downed your drink, ready to leave. It hadn't even been your idea to come here, and yet he was the one who was late.

You made your way to the barkeeper, sliding the money over you owed them, some additional dollars added, as you left. You bid the guard near the exit goodbye, wishing him a good day and leaving the estate, going up the stairs to ground level. Immediately, there was a big commotion, two people arguing about something. It was definitely the guy who checked everyone and gave them the bracelet, arguing with someone about their ID. You pulled out your phone, while walking up, already pulling up the chat with your date, writing only a meager "I'm leaving, thanks for the heads-up" and sending it. You pocketed your phone and looked towards the commotion, stopping dead in your tracks.

"Please, I swear I'm 18, how else would I have a Tattoo? I really just forgot my ID, doesn't my driver's license prove enough?!" But the Guard was unyielding, despite his logic being flawed, still denying the blonde entry. The blonde with the unique hairstyle and the striking outfit you had been looking out for all night. A blonde with a tattoo on his lower arm. It were too many similarities to be a coincidence, especially after he begged to just talk to his date waiting inside, since his phone died. You went up to him then, tapping him on the shoulder. "Cloud?" The blonde turned around, dressed in a loose, white button-up without a tie, a bit messy on his figure, yet still charming, paired with grey dress pants and black dress shoes.

He was confused, not immediately recognizing you, taking a few seconds to register. "I'm sorry, I swear I would have been here on time, but I was in such a rush I forgot my ID at home and-" you smiled, stopping him with a hand hold up "I heard, it's okay. Let's just do this another day" Cloud seemed a bit defeated, before he perked up. "Wait, uh- I... I know a place we could go, if.. if you still want to?" You blinked a few times, debating. "Sure, are you driving?" He nodded, leading you to his vehicle. You didn't know what you expected, maybe something like a car, definitely not a motorbike, though. With a bit of help from him, you got on, before he gave you a spare helmet and his riding jacket, which you happily accepted. You could tell he was a lot more careful when riding, a lot more tense. Maybe he didn't want to scare you? It was kind of cute really. And your hands felt warm thanks to his body heat, which made you wonder just how warm he was when he wasn't subjected to cold evening air. Shrugging that thought aside was probably a bad idea, considering you could just feel his muscles under the shirt, now the only thing your mind focused on. They weren't rock-hard, still a bit squishy and you hoped to god he hadn't noticed when your fingers dug into his flesh a bit, or, if he noticed, that he thought it was because of the motorcycle.

The Place you two ended up at looked nothing like the club he had chosen originally. It was a bit run down, made of wood and looked a bit messy with the string lights and the huge sign reading Seventh Heaven. Cloud let you get off the bike first, then parked it and turned to you with an apologetic look. "I know it's nothing like we planned and definitely not what you thought, if you want to leave-" you smiled and cut into his words. "It's okay, it doesn't matter where we eat or drink, we wanted to get to know each other, one as long as it's good i don't mind." He smiled. "It's the best, even if it looks a bit sketchy" You gave him back his Jacket and he packed away everything, before offering you his arm. You took his hand and he led the way, up the stairs and through the double doors. There was a woman behind the counter, gorgeous, and she already looked tough from a bit away. She looked up and surprise crossed her face. "Cloud?" She then looked at you, and before she even asked who you were she seemed to already know, instead asking what had happened for you two to end up here instead of the 'fancy' place that was the original plan.

The bar was empty, but it looked clean and lived in, loved even. Cloud didn't hesitate, striding to the counter and sitting down after you. He let you introduce each other, before he explained that she was a childhood friend who had already helped him many times in various situations. She was nice, saying she'd even give you two something to eat, as you and Cloud started your date. "So, childhood friends?" He nodded simply. "Yeah. Tifa and I have been... Through a lot of complicated-" he paused, for a minute. "It's not like we even dated, god no" he blushed at that thought. Embarrassed. "It's just a lot of complicated things we've experienced together." You smiled cheekily, sipping on the drink in front of you, shimmering just as blue as Cloud's eyes and resting you head on you hand, before you teased "So she's no one I should worry about?"

He sputtered, nearly choking on his drink, as he rushed to reassure you, while you simply chuckled. "Don't worry, I know how it is. It's good to have such a close friend, really." Your date smiled then, a small smile but it was there. "Yeah. I don't have many friends, admittedly. You don't really make a lot of friends when you have my last and my job and... Well, I've been alone a lot. Tifa was there when I needed her and I got some real good friends afterwards as well. They're good friends, all of them"

Cloud was always very vague about his job and past, but you didn't mind. It was not your place to pry. Not yet, anyways. Maybe someday... You looked at his glass, the drink a ruby red, so clear and vibrant it nearly looked like it was a crystal itself. "So, I know people always wonder, so, did you already have a girlfriend?" He pondered. "I wouldn't call her that. She was a very close friend but it was never more, even if the lines blurred sometimes." There was another faint blush. God, you just loved the way his cheek turned a light pink. "We're still close friends. You'll probably meet her some day."

You chuckled then, "Some day, huh? Looking to repeat today even before it got really started?" His cheeks turned even brighter, and he stammered a bit, definitely flustered beyond compare now. "It's not- I- I didn't mean that, it just slipped out." You laughed, and patted him on the arm. "Think about what you say better, next time" Next time. Some day. A promise of another meeting. Even if he failed to meet you on time. Even if it wasn't the best date ever or ideal or anything like it, you got to know him well. Probably even better than you would originally have, and there was just something about him. Those really bright blue eyes and the blonde hair and the soft, light paper skin had caught your attention. Paired with his tougher build, you didn't know what to expect, but he was a perfect mix of both.

"I have dated a few before. The best relationship I had was probably with a girl from a different neighbourhood, a poor one. My parents didn't approve, but she was the sweetest girl ever." You explained. "We broke it off because we realised we didn't click like that, and we stayed friends as well." His eyes rested on you, studying you. You looked back at him and smiled sweetly. "You know, every time I look at you, I have one thought in mind: pretty. How can you actually be so beautiful?" He blushed at your words, scrambling for words yet again and looking away. "It's weird how you can't handle compliments. Surely, you must have gotten these a few times, no?" He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I just... Never cared about the person saying it." "Awe, so you care about me already? It's our first date, and you're already falling for me."

In a flurry of braveness, he looked you dead in the eyes, "what if I am?" Dear Lord, you nearly felt your soul leave your body, this man had really no idea what he was doing, nearly killing you like that. You stayed silent, air whipped out of your lungs and thoughts racing through your brain, too fast to grasp. And then a whisper: "That wouldn't be a bad thing" Both of you blushed, and the evening went on. A small homely meal later, a few drinks in your system, your arm religiously brushed against his, your shoe bumping against his chair more often than before, sitting closer together now as well. You laughed and you ate and you drank. Then he had to stop, still wanting to be able to drive home. You decided to call it a night, a sense of uncertainty washing over you two.

You didn't want to push it. It had been a really fun night. He fumbled nearly every step along the way, but still managed to make it even better than expected. When you went to the bathroom, you took a pen and a piece of a bill that you left in your pocket and scribbled down your number on it, folding it. Considering he hadn't asked for your number and simply did everything via the app you two met over, you figured maybe this would push him in the right direction without pushing too far.

You returned to the counter, tapping Cloud on the shoulder. "We should probably call it a night. I have to work tomorrow, and you can't drink anymore because you need to drive, so I'd say this is a fairly good place to stop." He looked at you, from his sitting position, for a second, before he stood up. "Yeah, you're probably right. Do you want me to drive you home, or is that too soon?" You shook your head. "A little bit too soon, Cloud." You bid your goodbye to Tifa before returning to Clouds bike. "Don't worry about me getting home. I'll have a friend pick me up in a few minutes. On another note... I really had fun tonight. Somehow, even when it first looked like you had just ditched me, you made it... Probably my best date ever. Thank you for that. You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and handed him the paper.

"Call me if you want it throw it away if you don't. I hope I'll see you again?" He smiled again then, leaning down a bit. Your faces were so goddamn close, mouths nearly touching. "You definitely will" and then he kissed your forehead and smiled as he drove off. You look back at the bar. Tifa standing in the double doors and shaking her head, smiling. He still had to work on some of his etiquette, but he was doing really well. And you? You simply smiled, a giddy feeling in your chest, while the corners of your mouth refused to lower even an inch.

Believe {Father John Price & Reader} [Angst, verbal Fight]

You loved your Dad. You really did. You may not know him, but you knew he was a good man, a soldier. But you don't remember a time where he was really there for you. One day, he sits at the table with you, asking you questions and all you can think of, is why?

A/N: I absolutely didn't base this off of a c.ai Bot I talked with. Absolutely not. Now cry like I have.

TW: yelling, family argument, ilugky crying, fighting, discussions about absent father, exactly that father trying his best, people saying things they don't mean or want to say, !!NO ABUSE!!

You had come home from college, when you already saw the strange truck in the driveway. It took a few minutes before you remembered it was his truck. You father was back. You weren't bothered, but it also didn't spark any real type of joy in you. Your keys jingling, you opened the front door, kicked off your shoes, threw your backpack next to them and looked for you mother to say hello.

You mother was in the living room, lounging on the couch, a thick arm around her shoulder, as you could see your father's head buried in her hair, slowly scratching his scalp. "Hey Mom." She didn't perk up like usually, her eyes only scanning you drowsily. It was kind off cute. She smiled, greeting you back softly, her voice a bit cracked. She had cried, but you didn't bother. Of course she did. "Hey John." You smiled at your father as well, even if it was a tad more blank than the one given to your mother. He noticed, if course he did.

Dinner was already done, so stalking into teh kitchen to serve yourself some food, there were a bunch of small candies strewn on the table. You recognized them. The tiny pinkish Bonbons wrapped in yellow, blue and green paper, a fancy font slapped onto it displaying it's name. You had eaten these a bunch when you were little. But you hadn't for about 10 years at that point. You sighed. It was a cute gesture, so you stuffed them in your pocket. One of your friends would eat them, it would be okay.

Finishing your dinner and putting away the plates, John accompanied you in the kitchen. "Hey, Mouse. How was school?" "Good." An awkward silence settled into the room. "Anything special happened?" "No." Another period of silence as he sat down at the table, in front of where you had been sitting. "I see you took the candy?" "I'll give it to a friend. I don't like them." He looked a bit confused. "I thought you liked them? You always lived them as a child." You sighed, taking your seat. "Exactly. I was a child. I don't like them anymore, too sugary sweet." You didn't know what he thought, not being able to read him like your mother.

"What uh... What have you been up to while I'm gone?" "Studying. I have a Job to earn some pocket money. Got new friends." "Are you dating anyone?" You shook your head. "Not interested right now. Maybe some day." He smiled. "That's good. Wanting to focus on your studies first." "I want to be there for Mom, that's all. If I get a partner, paired with the Job and my studies, I won't be able to be there for her. Don't want her to basically loose her only other family member." Your words struck John, his gaze flickering to your Mom still lounging on the couch.

"I-" he paused and sighed, scratching his neck. "I know I wasn't always there. But I have a few months off now, so we could... We could do something together. If you want." You shrugged. "Sure. Anything specific?" "I hoped you might have some suggestions." You chuckled. Of course. "Well. What do you like to do?" He pondered. He actually didn't really know. He usually stayed home, doing something fun like going to theme parks or taking the kids to teh ice cream parlour down the street. "I don't mind as long as we do something together. I really missed you two and we could do something together, I thought. As a family."

"That's sweet, John." You simply added. "Let Mom plan something, she's better at it than I am." Another round of silence brewed over them. "You stopped calling me Dad." Price stated, matter of factly and you flinched. You tried to avoid the subject. "Yeah." You paused. How would you let him know without sounding harsh? "I don't think it's right someone you don't know your father. It shouldn't be that way." Your words stung. They stung to actually admit, but they stung more to be heard by your father. You loved him, you did. But you just weren't sure if he really was your father. Biologically, yes. But he had never been there for you, or your Mom.

"I'm... Sorry. I'll try to make it up." "It's okay, you don't need to. You already lost my entire childhood, I don't think a few years more will matter." You mumbled, glancing at the table. You really didn't want to look at him right now. You were being honest, you remembered him always preaching to be honest to him and his Mom, so that they could always be honest with you. So you did just that. What would it do to hide your hurt? You could feel the way he had to digest your words. "I know I wasn't there in your life. But I would like to be. Please, Mouse. Let us.. talk. Tell me what you like, what you want, I'll get it."

You huffed. "I don't want anything money can buy. I want a father. A real one." Your words sounded harsher than they should have, tone sharp and accusatory. "Sorry, that's not... I just meant I don't need anything from you. Thank you though." He stared at you, you could feel your body heating up at his stare. Or was that your feeling of guilt making you feel this way? "I understand." was the last words spoken in the small room for a while. "I know I was absent. I promise you, I missed you all the time. I just wanted to hold you, see you grow up... I hated coming here with you having already achieved so many milestones. Milestones I couldn't witness, a baby that was mine, that I didn't raise sits in front of me as an adult. I know it's not supposed to be this way, and I really want to make it up. To get to know you. Please."

Your breath was shaky, as you looked out the window to the garden, tears starting to burn in your eyes. "I needed a father. Not a soldier that was never here." You muttered, you voice waivering slightly. "I know." He leaned forwards, putting his hands on yours. You pulled it backwards instinctively, regretting the action on the spot, as you saw his hand retract back, hesitantly, he spoke again: "I know it hurts." "Do you? Do you really?!" You felt your patience snap, something in you just telling you to scream at him, another part begging you not to, he was a poor man working his job and trying his best for you, he couldn't do anything against the fact that his best just wasn't enough. Startled, his eyes finally found yours, fury in your eyes as you stood up.

"Because I know how much it hurt watching you leave! Every single time, seeing your back as you got into the truck and disappeared for months! Do you know how it broke Mom?! I took care of her, when she was depressed, not being able to get out of bed because the thought struck her that you could be dead!" Your mother shuffled into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed because of the commotion. Your voice was louder, even if you weren't shouting, it was simply slightly raised by your anger. "When she didn't know how to fix something in the house. I tried my best to look it up and do it myself! I did the heavy lifting, I was that one kid in school who only ever had her mother! They called her a whore, you know that?! I protected Mom, I protected myself! Because you weren't there, like you should have been!"

He seemed surprised, before his body slumped into itself. Exhaustion clear on his features. You felt pity, but you also felt you weren't done. You wanted to be down so bad. Why did everyone else get what they wanted but not you? "I'm sorry, I wish I could go back, do it all again, make different choices, but I can't. And I hope we can go forward together, Mouse. I don't want to loose you becaus eif my mistakes, little one. I know my Job isn't an excuse to not be there for you and your Mom, I..." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I tried to protect you by keeping threats out of this country, people away from weapons they shouldn't have, and yet I failed to realise it was too far away for you. And I... I hope you can forgive me like your mother can, e-" "No, I can't!" You screamed, interrupting your father in his speech.

"I can't and I won't! How can I forgive a man I don't know?!" You started to cry, the sadness and disappointment mixing with you anger and simply becoming too much, as tears fell down your face and sobs and whines accompanied you. "The only one in this house that knows you is she!" Pointing towards your mother, Price didn't even need to follow you finger, the only other person in this house being her. "I know. I know. I want to get to know you, so please, calm down, sit, let us talk about ourselves. Please. I just want to be a father for you." "WELL YOU WON'T BE!" your mother gasped, John startled and you stopped in your track, knowing you went too far. You didn't even mean to say it, it just slipped out.

Grabbing a tissue, you pushed her stunned mother aside, making your way up the stairs to your room, as your crying became more violent. You heard your father scramble up in his seat as you were halfway up the stairs, his heavy feet booming on the floorboard, as he reached you when you were at the top of the stairs. "Please, Honey. I know it's a lot, but I really want to know you, I want you to know me, let us start a new beginning, please! I'll be there for you!" You turned towards him. "Until you have to leave again. I know your Job still comes first, John." "I won't let you down, I promise! I'll.. I'll find a way!" You huffed, your eyes gazing upwards to the ceiling, trying to hold back even more tears, even though they dropped anyways. "I know you won't."

"They will call and you will leave, and then we won't hear anything form you until you suddenly show back up. And then we'll have to talk to each other again! That's not how it's supposed to be! That's now how it should be! You should be here for me, and I know this is selfish and rude and mean, but I just wanted a normal family!" John shook, you could see tears forming in his eyes, as he realized the pain he actually caused you. "I'm sorry I failed you." "It's okay." Your voice sounded oddly at peace then. "I stopped believing in you a long time ago." You entered your room, locking it, as you pushed your back to the door, falling to the ground. For a few seconds you could controll yourself, before your son's, cries, whails and whimpers were unconfined escaping your mouth. You just wanted to scream, punch, run. You loved him. He was your father, so why did it hurt this much?

John, on the other hand. Stood frozen, tears catching in his muttonchops, as he stared at your closed door, posters decorating it he had never seen before, drawings and pictures of friends he didn't know. He had gone wrong so many times, why, oh why didn't he realize it sooner?

Young Gods {Eustass Kid X Reader}

"Baby girl, don't get cut on my edges. I'm the king of everything and my tongue is a weapon. There's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs. And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight" ~ Halsey, Young Gods

NSFW below

Mentions: murder, hiding bodies, cheating, broken marriage, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, domestic violence (Kind Off), verbal abuse

NSFW mentions: Worship, rough sex (mentioned), Consenual sex at the start, Non-Con at the end (mentioned)

No NSFW cut this time, sorry pals

I do not condone Non-Con in any way, shape or form. I didn't think I'd ever write something like this. But it just kind of came to this, considering this one shot is based off the song and I always interpreted the quote above as pressuring into sex, this is kinda were it led. I originally planned to have a different outcome here, but the flow got me

Be mindful. Any comments that glorify non-con will be deleted and you will be blocked. People went through this, they experienced the pain and the suffering and the torment. I am not here to make light of what goe son behind the scenes, I'm not here to write a silly little enter tainemtn for you. Rape isn't entertainment, it should never be.

He wasn't good for you. You knew. He knew. Everyone knew. They kept telling you he wasn't for you, but you didn't want to listen. He was Kid, your Kid. Hotheaded, stubborn, aggressive but still yours. And he did keep it that way, he still remained yours, but never yours to control, to calm down. He was yours to love, but you were not his to love unconditionally.

There had been many instances, many mistakes you had caught him in, but still he kept you close. It's not like he forced you, it was simply your obsession with him, the way he made you feel, knew to play you like an instrument he had studied since childhood. He was insane, but who was to say you weren't?

There was that one time, he had been in your shared bed. Not alone, of course. You had opened the door after coming home, after eating your cold dinner he had made - it was quite terrible - and had seen him buried deep inside someone, wild blonde hair all over the bedsheets, hands grasping at Kid's and eyes closed, lowly moaning and grunting. Kid had heard the door open. Felt you enter.

You never forget that look in his eyes, as his eyes locked onto you, his hips not stilling their movements. He seemed angry, but not at the interruption.

He spent the night digging a six feet deep hole in the garden. You had spent the next morning planting flowers on the freshly re-dug dirt.

It was like this a couple times. Whenever you caught him, he would spent the night in the garden. It became a ritual of sorts, even though you were quite unsure about why decided to kill those people - men and women alike. Was it some sort of apology? Most likely not, he kept doing it over and over again.

Sometimes, when you were lying in bed alone, when you heard the shovel scrape and the dirt thump, when you heard his grunts and curses, when you heard him drag and something fall, before the dirt fell again, you asked yourself why you didn't go to the police, why you didn't rat him out, but the flashes of blue hair, blades, fishnets and a metal arm reminded you why.

Then, there were the nights he would worship you, his tongue lapping at every part of your skin, teeth working little purple bruises on your neck, on your arms and thighs, your stomach feeling warm where his flesh hand touched and cold where his prosthetic softly held you. It was sweet, loving even. You felt his mouth leave your shoulder, his tongue reappeared on your calf, he held your foot softly, before his tongue slowly made his way up. His mouth would worship your shoulders, your arms and hands, his tongue would glide from your feet up to your stomach, higher to your neck and into your face, he would lick you most private parts, making you mewl, making you moan. Making you absolutely his.

The Windows and doors would be shut, the curtains drawn closed, the noises of his wet tongue exploring your body yet again filling the room along with your moans and whimpers, your whispers for more and for him to stop already. He would make you come undone this way, absorbing whatever you gave him. His hands would continue, warm and cold a poetic play on your skin, as he expertedly played you, as he felt you shiver and heard you call out his name. Another time you would give in, and an additional one for good measure. These nights wer exhausting, pushing you to your limit again and again, making you forget what he had done again, making sure you still were his.

It worked, usually. These nights that seemed to be so full of love, if adoration and absolute infatuation from both sides, they were testaments of trust, a promise of love. Sometimes you wished it would stay like this forever, but alas. Another night, another girl. A different night, a different guy. He never changed, what would make him do that? Of course you wouldn't be reason enough.

"It's your fault I have to do this! You're just so boring, you're so strict and conforming, you always want to do the same lame things, like you want to control everything I do! Let a man have some fun if he needs to, you don't fucking provide it after all! Or what, you gonna say now, that it's not? Not your fault?! I even kill these chicks for you! I do that for you, or you'd flip! I know you people, you're all the same! What's the problem now. Then? You outraged cuz' the last dude didn't look like you enough? Does that make you cry? Should I get you to bed so you can rest? This ain't a fuckin' miracle dream, get the fuck over it!"

Of course, there were the arguments. When you had enough. When he had enough. Who was to tell? Maybe both. Screaming matches usually, resulting in broken promises, broken furniture. Broken Trust, even. You didn't listen to him. He didn't listen to you, that's how it normally went. Although, sometimes he did listen, sometimes he was quiet, death stare as you screamed your troubles. And then he followed, words twisted - or were they not? With an even louder voice, thundering through the house, no doubt your neighbours heard you, but they wouldn't snitch on the cops. Of course they wouldn't. The previous ones tried it. Their bodies weren't in your garden, but you didn't know where they were, didn't care.

"What?! That's not even what-"

"Oh, shut it with your complaining! That's all you ever do! What would you have done without me. Huh?! I could have left you alone at the altar! I should have! Would have shut you up properly! What if I snitched to the cops about the bodies, Huh? You were the one planting seeds, they saw that shit! If I would snitch, you would have absolutely no where to run to! Think you're gonna be safe in prison? Oh, snowflake, you wouldn't survive a day! You're nothing without me, you're fucking mine. So act like it! Or I'll make sure you will in the future!"

That was usually enough to shut you up. The fear of being rat out to the police, fear of being alone with actual criminals in a prison, some of which he controlled, was too much. At the start, that was always the end of it and he would go out, undoubtedly to do his own business again, while you pulled yourself together, cleaning the glass of the bottle from the floor that he had thrown in your direction. There had been no intention to hit, and he didn't, aiming farther right than he would have if he meant to hit you. You didn't want him to be mad. But after you realized, he wouldn't actually throw you to the cops, because they would find him, the threat stopped working. And it continued.

"You know damn well, that if they find the bodies you're gonna be the first they get in! I can lie myself out no problem, but what would they say, seeing a dude as tall as you with blunt force trauma, multiple stab wounds? Someone with your DNA inside and on them? No way I would go in for that! You would basically confess, and we both know that's not what you do!"

"Playing smart, Huh? Think you're better than me because you're a pretty little thing that can use their pretty little brain, Huh? Well, let me show you who that brain belongs to, I'm gonna keep my promise snowflake. I'm gonna show you that you fucking belong to me and do what I fucking say!"

He approach with loud thumps, steps heavy on the wooded floorboards, the remote you had thrown to deter him easily caught in his grip and abandoned on the floor. His eyes would shine dangerously, anger and lust filled, as he toweder over you, harshly grabbing your hair. He would tear you to the bedroom, ignoring your cries and attacks. The door would be slammed shut, key turned to lock it. The window would be wide open, curtains open as he turned on the light and pushed you towards the window.

"You gonna fucking defy me again, I'll make sure they all see you naked. And just to make it clear, if I need to go that far, Might as well carve my name into you, snowflake"

He squeezed your stomach harshly at that, empty threat hanging heavy above your head, as he pushed you towards the bed, his own clothes discarded fairly fast, and you followed suit. He sat down near the edge, yanking you to the floor and forcing your head onto his dick, making you gag as he went past your limits yet again. He pushed you up, onto the bed, hand on either side. You had stopped resisting, after all, what was it worth? Otherwise, you could be the first body in your garden without flowers. You didn't want to end like this, so you complied.

This was your life. You stayed with him, a twisted thing inside your heart telling you it was his way of loving you, his way of keeping you safe, but when he shut you off from the outside completely, no, since the first of these escalated nights, you knew he wasn't. This wasn't love, this was obsession, ownership. You were a hostage and you had no one to rescue you. You couldn't even help yourself.

So you stayed.

----

I actually originally planned this to be smut. Full on smut, but after discovering it went into a non-con direction, I felt really uncomfortable. So this is all you get. I will never, EVER write something like this again. I feel absolutely disgusting. But it's written, might as well let people read it.

This One Shot is not written for entertainment it also isn't written to inform, it's to give a sneak peak of why peole might stay with someone abusive. It's the ways manipulations can go. They might go so far, they might not. Please be aware, stay safe and keep in mind this can happen to anyone, no matter, age or gender or relationship to the abuser. Every Abuse is different and every story is unique. It's not our place to ask, but it's our place to listen when they talk.

Egoist {Moira X Reader}

You knew who she was, what she was. Even in the black suit with the purple tie and under those gloves, the long nails of her hand were always visible, the way her right hand was thinner, veiny while her other one looked healthy, her face plate always adorning her left eye, even when not working. When she left to work, you knew where she was going, what she was doing. But when she looked at you, the way she held you, you just couldn't let her go. You loved her. But maybe, she did not.

It was unusual for her to have enough time to accompany you to one of your outings with co-workers, like on holidays, bit you were glad that today, this random Friday evening she did have time. Usually she worked from early to evening, always looking to find the key to life. And yet, she would always come home to you, she would lay down in your bed and talk with you if you were awake or tucking herself into your side when you weren't. You were lucky if you saw her everyday in a week, but you didn't mind too much, what she was doing was important, no matter how you disliked her cruel ways of researching.

It was a fromal event in a restaurant, a celebration of one of your co-workers birthday. Moira hadn't stalled around much to get read, she simply opened the closet and pulled out her neatly stored black suit and a purple tie. You watched as she got dressed, her nails digging into the expensive, sensitive fabric, somewhow avoiding it getting ripped. She looked stunning, like an absolute professional - as if she was a chef of a very high ranking firm. She wasn't, she was a researcher, a fighter, a member of Blackwatch, but no one else needed to know. Today, Moira was simply a scientist - and your wife. She had tried to cover her damaged hand with gloves, even tried cutting her nails, but they didn't want to be cut, so she ended up with broken gloves, nails raking out. Hopefully no one would mind her weird appearances.

They did.

Of course they did.

They were confused and you let Moira explain - some sort of terminal generic illness she got by being exposed to too many Experiments and fumes. A lie, of course. But they believed it. That was all that mattered. After you came home that night, she unbuttoned her blouse and opened her tie, letter Ng them dangle aroung her ill frame and falling into one of the chairs, exhausted from this day full of work and the meeting. You had smiled at her, tried to help you relax, but with a quick flick of her now ungloved hand and a curt "No" you retreated to bed, leaving her alone.

You don't think she joined you that night. Maybe she did, but you were definitely not in your arms. She was just tired, nothing else. It was fine, after all, she was a hard working woman.

You stood up early next morning, making her breakfast in bed and even making her lunch to bring to work with her, one that she'd probably forget to eat again. Her mood was better when she woke up, coffee and food ready, she thanked you, gave you kiss and left no food on her plate and no coffee to cool.

You didn't register when she started to change up a bit, when she would watch you closely, not with love, like she had before, but with curiosity. Maybe it was after you had been diagnosed, doomed to live only a few months. Maybe it was when she made you the proposal.

"I can fix you. I can fix you, like I fixed myself, like I fixed all of them"

Maybe it was after you had said yes, or when she started to expirment on you. You were unsure. But the experiments hurt, even though she held your hand, held you close in her arms when you cried, nestled safe on her lap or even when she kissed your tears away, her low voice in your ear.

"You are doing so well, Love. Just a it more, okay? Stay strong for me"

Maybe you should have declined, died with her love still intact for you, before you switched from lover to experiment in her eyes. Maybe it would have avoided this outcome. You were cured, yes. But the pain was unbearable. No matter what you did, there was a surge of huge pain following your movements. After a while you got better at hiding it, accepting it. And yet, no matter what you did, even after it felt like simply thinking was painful, nothing could describe the empty hole in your chest, when you saw her pack her things.

"Where are you going, Honey? Is everything alright?" She had looked at you, her red eye piercing your soul

"Of course, Love. Everything is just fine. Blackwatch just needs me to leave for a mission, that's why I'm packing a few things"

"Why?"

"They need me, that's all. I am the only one able to tend to my fallen comrades, after all-"

"No. Why are you lying?"

She looked at you then, turning around to face you and her cold expression made you shiver. That wasn't your Moira. This was Blackwatchs' Moira. Talon Moira. Crazy-Scientist-Moira. Where did she leave to, you wondered.

"I wanted to safe you from the truth. You are awfully sensitive recently. An unexpected result of the Experiments, I believe. But it seems you have unfortunately kept your attention to detail."

You looked at her, confused. "Sensitive? I mean, you have barely talked with me, these past few weeks, you and I, we're married! We should talk a lot, sleep in the same bed! You loved me before all this and that has changed! I just want us to be like back then again. Wher eyou go to work, come home and we sleep, Where we talk in bed and I get to enjoy your company, your arms. You have been distancing yourself from me, and I don't know what to do, I'm devastated! Clueless! Not sensitive!"

Her expression fell for a moment, just a glimpse pat's that cold exterior revealing pity. "It's your fault you believed you were worth anything to me, actually. You were simply entertainment for me, nothing more." Moira turned around, grabbing her suitcase. You tried to stop her, tears falling onto the floor. "No, you don't get to leave me like this! You don't get to walk away from me with all the damage you just caused! I love you! How can you say you never loved me, when you married me?!"

"Like I said. It's your fault. I never wanted to make that impression" She pries your hand away from her arm with her long nails and opened the door while you followed her close behind, words falling out of your mouth to stop her, none of them sinking into either of you. She turned around one last time, before opening the door. "I suppose I should apologize. But you have no use for me anymore. The experiments conducted on you have brought no new revelations and your body is already at it's limit. So impossibly weak, no wonder you wouldn't be able to make it into any of our Organisations."

She handed you the key to the house.

"I never told you I was a good person. You convinced yourself I was. I told you from the very beginning what I was. I've always been an Egoist.'

The door slammed shut as you fell to the floor, crumbling.

Return to me {Alexander Anderson x AMAB Reader}

You know Alexander from the Library you worked at - when he one day stands in front of your day at the end of the year 1999, you can not deny him shelter. And now, you definitely didn't regret it

NSFW below

NSFW cut: ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

Not Beta read we die like {redacted}

You never thought you'd see him again, but there he was, standing right in front of you was the tall, blonde priest with green eyes that had a way to obvious scar on his cheek, asking you if you had a place for him to stay for some time. Your heart was still somewhat broken by being rejected by said man, that fateful day where you had decided to accept he would reject you and went and got it for yourself, thinking you might be able to get over it, your love for that man.

Needless to say, you didn't. You never did and didn't think you ever would. But everytime he came into the library, asking you for a book you couldn't help but falling for him. And fall you did, landing hard in the reality that he was a priest, the he was to not mingle in relationships with others, his only devotion being god and the preachings of the bible. You had started to read the books that he did, finding most to be about the occult, werewolves, vampires, witches, wendigos... And how to kill them. Books that were written like research, obviously being a piece of someone's fantasy.

But then he would come in and get children's books, about the holy Mary, about birds and trains and flowers, about the way the sun would rise and laugh, but how the clouds would always cry. When you found out he was living in an orphanage, you wanted to go so badly, it wasn't far, but it wouldn't be fair. So the next time he had come by, you had asked him out for a stroll - not a date, just to get to know him, to become friends. His positive response had surprised you.

So why, after all that time of him caring, in the end rejecting and going seperate ways, was he standing in front of you, on this winter afternoon in 1999? And where was his priest robe? He had his usual coat on, but only a thin shirt and jeans, so you didn't waste time, letting him into your house. "Alexander? What are you doing here?" "I quit. And I- You said you'd always be there when I need something, and right now, I don't have a home. Can I stay? Only until I find something for myself, of course." You turned the thought over in your head. The Basement was free, you'd only have to clean it up, maybe stash everything in your garage. "God, sit down first. Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate?"

Sitting down with him, each sipping on their own tea, you finally spoke up. "I really should question how you figured out where I live, but the reason you quit interests me more." He sipped on his tea. "There have been... Some mindest differences recently. Between me and the church. While I am incredibly sad to leave behind the children, I couldn't accept staying there. Not with the recent happenings in London." "London? What does the Church have anything to do with the destruction of London?" He just smiled. You never got an answer. But you guessed it was more involvement then what the newspapers told you.

Sometimes, the ex-priest talked to you about an old friend, one, who vanished back in London. You didn't know if he was dead or just disappeared in the rubble, or if it was... A different kind of friend. You looked after him a lot of the time, driving him back and forth from monestary to your home so you could get all his belongings. You even had to drive to the Vatican - Who had an own room in the Vatican?! It had taken months for him to settle comfortably in the basement, old bookshelves and boxes and dressers functioning as his only storage. You bought him a new bed, so he could at least afford a good rest - he promised to repay you, but you shook it off. It was a cheap one anyways.

You helped him find work in the city, helped him with a driver's licence and, in the end, you both scrapped your money together to get him a car. It was second-hand, fairly cheap compared to the other cars on the market, small and old-school. But he was happy with it, and so were you. After a good 3 months you finally convinced him to buy new clothes, instead of just opting for your old father's ones, it was exciting finally seeing the fashion taste of a man previously running around only in his religious tell-tale robe with the crosses.

He picked out a few checkered ones, others had random prints on it. You got him to buy a muscle shirt (mainly for your own entertainment, but also because it got really hot during summertime) and some pullovers for winter - one Pullover was relatively thin and black, covering his neck from the cold winds that would come in 6 more months. A lot of people had stared at you - maybe it was the fact you were just average size and he was - well - over 2 meters tall, maybe they held you for a couple or found him handsome. But maybe, it was because of his scar. You never knew for certain how he got it.

You saw him enter the library on a fairly quiet day, he hadn't visited for weeks, probably on one of his trips to foreign countries. He didn't take long to get to the Check-out and you were snooker to see his face. His left cheek had a big white patch on it - a compress. There was a thin line in the middle with red specks of blood. When you asked him what had happened, he had dismissed you, saying it had been an accident he didn't want to talk about. The next time, you saw the wound. It was three scratches all neatly lined up, like claw marks. It was then you had your first suspicion, the middle one deeper then the other two, the skin around it a deep purple.

After that visit, he came in again, this time, the upper and lower scratch were healed completely, the middle one still deep and purple, as if it couldn't heal. That's when you knew. You knew what he had been doing, why he had been away, why he had been injured. You had asked him to come to the staff bathroom, getting an idea. You had confronted him, he had brushed it off, yet still he let you cut around the edges, widening the wound and, effectively, overwriting the original one. The wound had healed in a few weeks, only leaving behind the nasty scar on his cheek.

In month 6 of him staying with you, he was finally able to afford his own Appartment so he started scouting. You helped him, of course, You taught him how to use the library computers, so he could scout more effectively, he actually understood it really fast. A smart man, he was. The landline phone, he had figured out within a few weeks of you introducing it to him and he called the monestary every weekend. You liked to listen. He would be a good father, you decided, when you heard him talk with the kids, reassuring them he didn't forget them and that he would stop by from time to time.

He held his word, always arriving to any of their birthdays with a personalized gift. You were happy to be able to accompany him. Some of the nuns were a bit suspicious first, thinking you might have taken advantage of Alexander, but they were quick to trust you and your words - you did love him, but you'd never try to take advantage of him - even though that wasn't something that they needed to know.

Alexander had found the Appartment he wanted to live in during month 8. He was happy, you were not. You offered him to stay for longer, so that he could pay the bills as well - which was something he had totally forgotten about. He lost the Appartment and you felt guilty.

But when winter rolled around again, seeing him in that long-sleeve neck Pullover, paired with thick, dark grey jeans with a fashionable belt and a silver cross necklace, you nearly forgot to breathe, or that you had been feeling guilty. After the incident with the Appartment, things had started to change. You noticed he looked at you fondly, for longer than normal, he smiled whenever you did something - if it was a greeting, rambling, making food - you had noticed he was a way better cook and picked up habits of you - humming along to your music or just watching a show. It seemed weird. Whenever asked, he would just say that he was happy you had been the one to take him in.

On his birthday, you had taken him out to a more expensive restaurant, treating him to something you called "culture cruise". You introduced him to proper Italian traditions that he had missed out on in the orphanage, traditional food that wasn't served there, you showed him a cinema and he was blown away by the movie, not being able to believe it. He had missed out on so much, leading such a humble, yet dangerous, life, that you were more than adamant about giving him a life he deserves. A life full of care, gratefulness, and, if possible, love.

He had liked his birthday, even though, in the end, he admitted, that it would have been enough to spent it with you - but that he was thankful you wanted to show him your world. You asked him to show you his, and, even though he dismissed it now, he would show you later on. After getting home, there was something weird. Between you two, of course, not in your house. You both wanted to retiree for the night, but again, both of you lingered in the living room near the stairs up to your room and down to his. "I'm glad you liked today, I was a bit worried", you admitted out of the blue. He scratched his neck, his muscles showing under the thin pullover. You questioned how he wasn't cold.

He was quiet a bit, before speaking up. "I... I loved this glimpse into your world. It was educating and it meant a lot to you, so I.. You mean a lot to me and so does your world. So I thank you dearly for taking me along, sunshine." You smiled again, wider this time, liking the nickname maybe a little too much. After that it took a few more moments of silence, for both of you to say your goodbyes and go to sleep. You, however, were unable to, thinking about the way he was treating you, how much he cared about you and your world. He really was a gentleman, if you were sure about him feeling similarly about you, the way you felt about him, then you would be glad to, maybe, someday, call him your husband.

Your first kiss came the next day. It wasn't your first overall, but it was the first with him. Maybe it had been the music and jokefully romantically made dinner - you genuinely just wanted to recreate the ambiance of the restaurant, there was never an intention to make it feel so appealing. But joking around with him, about some of the older, black and white movies and the more recent coloured ones, him joking with you there was a moment of you playfully leaning into his side, lamenting over something random, like the candles, while he calmly, in an equal joking matter grabbed your arm softly. You shot up to kiss him on the cheek, something he, apparently, also felt like doing.

It had taken not even a second, before you pulled back, apologizing profusely, you face flushed - as was his. He smiled, saying it was no matter. You sat down to eat, face fixed in the food. He stood there for a moment longer, before he asked, bashfully: "Would you like to do it again?" You looked up, his gaze locked onto you, as if he felt no shame. Why would he, you thought. It was a mistake, nothing more. But why did he offer? Did he.. were your suspicions really correct? He didn't move, standing there. The offer he had just given you hang heavy in the air, debating whether to act on it or not.

You chair creaked when you pushed it back a bit. "Would you like to do it again?" Alexander's face turned a deeper red than before. He was quiet, before admitting a small "yes". It was then that you stood up and closed in on him.

"then, I would like one as well"

The second kiss was really worth it. It was long, gentle and loving. It felt warm, comforting - it felt good. On a completely unrelated note, the food was delicious as well. You just loved eating this dish - especially with Alexander in front of you, the kiss and it's implications - even though it was less of an implication and more of a flashy Broadway Sign, after all, a kiss - no, technically two - seemed like a very exclusive thing that two people wouldn't do if they just were friends, unprompted by any dare.

Long story short, after dinner, there was a deep talk and you both decided to try. And try you did. It worked out fine, the only thing that really changed was the few kisses, the cuddle-sessions and the trips - now dates - to town. It wasn't really a secret, but it also wasn't really public. It's that weird in between-thing, where you knew, but you just weren't quite ready to tell everyone - but showing wasn't really a problem. Alexander had the habit to keep you close - it was a habit he had picked up one or two months after being at your home, but now, he just seemed to be more open about it, actively seeking you out. This day, it had been particularly bad and after getting home, you had asked him about it. He seemed taken aback.

"I'm Sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to, I'll keep it in mind next time"

You sighed. "No, no, Alex, that's not- that's not what I meant. I was simply curious on why you did it, I apologize if it came over wrong"

Alexander looked at you for a few seconds, contemplating if he should tell you. Then: "I am scared"

You could tell he wasa bit uncomfortable, but you couldn't just leave it here. You took him by the hand, setting him down on the couch and sitting next to him, your own hand in his. "If you want to, you can tell me. I'm here for you." Alexander seemed torn, it was the first time you had seen him this conflicted, this... This pained.

"London was last year.", He started and stopped right after. It clicked into place for you, but you wanted him to go on. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, lightly stroking your thumb over his hand in yours, a smile on your lips, as you silently told him to take his time. "It was... I mean you read about it, of course, but... I was there. It was horrible and I- I lost more friends than just one." Oh, that was something you actually hadn't thought about, but it made sense. "One was my student. Her name was Yumiko and she was great. Heinkel nearly lost their life as well - a lot of the division died, nearly all, even though I told them to stay back. I lost so many friends, when I tried to save them all"

He took his hand away then, covering his eyes with his hands and bending forward, hiding his face. Your smile dropped. He didn't loose one person, he didn't loose a few. He lost everyone. You got down on your knees, sliding between his legs and taking his hands away gently. He wasn't crying, not yet anyways - but his eyes were shining bright with the promise of salty water spilling over any second. "Were you scared to loose me too?" He nooded then. You got up from this position, pulling him into a hug. " You won't, Alexander. That life is beyond you now, it's behind us both. We are here together, we are here, Alex. We are alive." You pressed his hand to you heart. "We are both alive."

That day was one you never forgot. Alexander Anderson, previously a priest and in charge of an orphanage, as well as something with the occult, member of a division you had never heard of, was traumatized. He had been vulnerable with you, around you. He had shared his pain and you had accepted it, accepted him and all the implications and complications that came with it. How could he ever hope to find someone better? He didn't, and he never would, because you, he was convinced, were the best choice he could ever make.

When one year had run by, you realized he had never slept in the same bed as you. Not even when one of you fell asleep on the couch, he would always be gone and in bed instead. So today, you tried to get him to sleep with you - not in a sexual sense, by God, only sleeping next to each other, maybe (hopefully) cuddling. That was the day you realized no one had cover taught this man anything about relationships or explained That, when the bible quoted "thou shall not lie with a woman, if thy art not married", or whatever the actual quote said, it didn't mean sleeping in the same bed, but sleeping together.

So that was a conversation you needed to have, and, in retrospect, it was fairly funny, but back then, it was undeniably weird to be the one to give a grown man, which you were together with, sex education. That didn't seem like your job, but now you stood here, and he stood there, and that was the situation you were in. "So uh, the Bible doesn't really mean sleep, Alexander. It means sex." He had heard that word uttered in disgust and disdain by the nuns that had raised him, heard more about this being an act of either love or lust between a man and a woman. He never knew that was what the line meant, nor did he know what sex actually was.

So he disclosed it all to you. You shook your head, in denial that any institute for raising and educating children would stop at sex and don't even mention it to them. What if they would have gone and discovered it on their own, maybe way too young or having to deal with the consequences alone? "Well, traditionally speaking, in most cultures and religions sex is between a man and a woman, but not exclusive. Men can do it with men and women with women. In a traditional sense it's something very intimate, something you do with one you trust fully. Someone you love, if we keep it extremely Christian."

Alexander nodded, seemingly soaking up everything you were saying. "So uhm, do you know the difference between make and female anatomy" "I raised children" point taken, stupid question. "Okay so, Sex is when you put your uh-" god this was more embarrassing than showing and recommending someone erotica and explaining in detail how exactly it was interesting. "So you put your penis into the vagina of the woman and just... Go." "Just go?" "Just... Just go, yes." "How does it work between the others?" Oh lord, have mercy. "So between a man and a man, it just goes in the ass, or they get themselves off with hands or mouths, which is similar in that case with women. There are also specific toys that help."

Alexander seemed a bit puzzled, but the red taint on his cheeks made you realize, he was also embarrassed about this, even though you were sure you were way more red - your head was steaming and cooking your brain. At least that's what it felt like. "But what do you mean with just go?" You just wanted for a portal to hell to open up. At this point, burning you skin off in an eternal hellfire seemed more acceptable than this. "Just go. Like... In and out" "Like when you need to fill a tire of a bike with air?" "Yes. Absolutely. Like a piston, in some ways. Obviously that's not all there is to it, but that is essentially how it works. Have you never tried to uhm- do it yourself?"

You had never seen him so flustered. "No! That was forbidden, seen as a sin!" "Hey, there's genuinely nothing wrong with it. It's actually quite healthy. You're not part of the Church anymore, you don't need to abide to their beliefs." He seemed to stop. Like he was a computer that just shut down because you opened three tabs on the browser and caused a Microsoft error. He had never thought about that before, you realized. It's just been a year away from the church, the place that raised him, homed him, gave him an occupation - of course everything was still indoctrinated in him. How could you expect something else?

You went to bed seperately.

The next day was still a bit awkward, but by the second day everything returned to normal. He even decided to actually do sleep in your bed with you - only after about a month of consideration. You were happy, however. If he was comfortable, then you were too. Alexander had become the thing you thought your life revolved around. When you went out to go shopping, you immediately looked if you could bring him something from your trip. When you were cooking, you thought about how he would cook it, or how he would like it. And when you were cuddling, you thought about the way he was warm, that he was alive, alive with you. Days passed like this, weeks, months even.

"Sunshine?" You hummed positively, looking up from your book. He had been reading one of his own, a recommendation from you. "I was curious." You hummed again, putting your mark in you book and closing it. "I don't know if it's an approprita question." "Shoot your shot, dear." He seemed to think for a second. "I have been thinking about something you said." You grew a bit impatient. "When?" "I don't know, a few months ago. You said I wasn't part of the church anymore and thus do not need to abide their rules" "Dear, whatever you want to ask, just ask. I won't crucify you. And the church won't either."

He closed his book as well, scratching his beard stubble. "Maybe we could try it out?" Before you could ask what he meant, he elaborated, realizing he hadn't said what. "Sex, I mean. Apologies if I'm overstepping-" You nearly choked on your own spit. What. The. Hell. What had you done to this man? He had been so shy, so embarrassed about it, and now, he sat there in front of you, asking you such a question. You mean, damn. If that isn't some quick character development. If you were serious though, you had thought about it as well. Of course, you didn't want to bring it up, as not to pressure him. So this, was perfect.

"Sure, let's go." He was taken aback slightly by the way you stood up, starting to walk to the stairs. "Why go?" "To the bedroom, dear. Yours or mine?" He stood up as well, stopping next to you. "Yours." You sat him down on the bed. "I suppose you don't know more than I told you?" He shook his head. "Don't worry, I will take the lead." "You did this before?" "Yeah, but never like this." "In charge?" "That. And with someone I love."

ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

You took his hands and let them rest on your waist, as you settled on his lap, going for a kiss. You pushed yourself close, shamelessly resting on his crotch. You pulled away, taking one of his big, calloused hands and sliding it up, to rest next to your chest. "You can touch me, you know." He seemed hesitant, but you went in for another kiss, keeping his mouth open this time, your tongue brushing his, animating him to participation. He was eager to follow your lead. His hand slipped to your back instead, holding you close. You pushed back again, leaving him some room.

Your thumb pressed on his scar, the slightly elevated, jagged surface soft and yet hard beneath your fingers. You pushed your hand under his jaw, pushing his head back and starting to kiss along his neck, his throat releasing a loud, shuddering breath, as the hand that had pushed his head back slowly trailed down his throat, cold fingers ghosting over the warm skin, fingers barely touching him. You other hand guided his hand to your neck, squishing it in his large hand. His other hand, still on your waist, gripped you harshly, it brought a slightly hurtful feeling up in you, but it made you feel secure.

You pulled back, Alexander finally finding the courage to explore your body, his head snapping back almost immediately, eyes fixating on yours. His gorgeous green eyes glowing behind his glasses. You slowly reached up, but he stopped you before you could take them off. "No. I don't-" "Okay" and just like that he was back to roaming your body, enjoying as your hands slid over his. A few moments later you sat up on your knees, pulling off your shirt. Alexander seemed a bit flustered at first, but got over it fairly quickly.

You kissed him again, your body shifting a bit, pressing close again, his hand trapped between you bodies, as he leaned back, other hand supporting his weight. You stood up, pulling him with you as well. You discarded all of your clothes, watching him do the same. It was mesmerizing how a small bit of his torso showed when he lifted his arms up, pulling his own shirt over his head. The muscles in his arms flexed slightly, his shirt falling to the ground next to him. Scars were all over his body, the cross of the silver nacklace resting where his collarbone was, a cross tattooed onto his skin with the words "yes jesus" in it. You recalled seeing said design on his gloves when he was still a priest. His trousers were the next to go it was the first time Alexander's head was actually lower than yours.

He sat down on the bed again, back resting against the headboard. You did the same you did before - sitting in his lap. Just, this time, you could feel whenever the muscles in his leg twitched when you bit down or kissed or sucked in a particular way, felt how he tensed and relaxed when you shifted your body. It was captivating, the expression he made. His eyes were on you, the entire time he was focused on you, nothing else. His hands never left you, pulling you close. He was breathing loud, not quite panting, but close enough. And then, when you actually felt him, you realized a grave mistake. You couldn't show him, because you didn't expect this and had no condoms, and no lube, and he definitely had neither either.

"Alex, dear" he hummed. "We can't do it quite the way you want it yet, but we can do it differently." Before he could ask why, you continued. "We don't have protection. I'll go out and buy some, but not right now. I can show you other ways." The Catholic was silent, before a breathless "yes" left his lips. You kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip, before pulling back and spitting in your hand. "It's not the best, sorry" he wanted to reply, but when your hand ghosted over the head of his cock, before you slick hand closed around it pushed him into a whole new sensation. It was weird, to be touched there by someone else. But not unwelcome.

He grasped at your hips, pushing you down and towards him a bit, your own erection brushing his slightly elevated thigh. He pulled you into another kiss, breaths mixing with each other as both of you tried to breathe through your noses, Oxygen soon running out despite your best efforts. You pushed back a bit, getting into a more comfortable position. Your hand gabbed him a bit harder, a loud moan being your response. You slowly started pumping up and down in a slow pace with no constant rythm. Sometimes it was all the way to the head, sometimes only a short, cut off up and down shifting.

You twisted your hand, lifting a few fingers and adding them again from time to time. Alexander's Head rested against the wall, his mouth opened, sounds leaving his vocal chords in low hums or gasps, vulnerable sound that he trusted you with. You hummed as well, seeing one of his hands grabbing the sheet, crumbling them. You wouldn't be surprised if he ripped them. The other was still bruising your hip, a thrum of slight pain shoot up, a thrum of the love he shared for you. You hummed, your hips pushing themselves forwards on his thigh to gain some friction, a movement immediately stopped by you.

This wasn't about you. This was about him. A moan escaped your lips. "Alexander-" You felt him twitch when you changed the pressure, tighenting and loosening your grip in random intervals. He moaned, trying to hold your stare, while his hand wanted to fall back. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing loud, chopped and fast. You never knew what a sight you missed out on and he never on what kind of pleasure. This Sight, you were sure, was one you'd never be able to forget, if he would leave you know... You're done for. But the way , he looked into your eyes, torso jolting forwards whenever electric signals went through his muscles, he was in just the same situation.

"Sunshine-" You knew he was close, when you felt the sticky liquid leaking onto your fingers and when he involuntarily started thrusting his hips up in a jerking motion, as if his body told him what to do and he had no choice but to comply. When he did tip over the edge, you had the feeling as if he was about to crush your hip and hand, but if this is how you lost them, it'd be worth it. The way he calmed down, his chest rising and falling abruptly, noticeably slowing down as you removed your hand, watching as the white-ish colour leaked out, gathering and spilling over the edge, cascading down as if it was a water fountain without pressure.

You smiled patiently, warmly, even though you yourself were extremely desperate. You waited until he came back to you, finally leaving this state of pure bliss. His head was flushed red, the red spreading down his neck and disappearing into his shoulders, but he slowly regained his colour. "Dear lord in heaven...", he breathed, gaping air in as much as he could, "what have you done to me?" You chuckled and smiled, "Just falling in love, my dear. Just falling in love." Alexander laughed at that, his hand on your hip grabbing your waist an coupling you back in, lips meeting again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're a witch that out a spell on me" You grinned, raising your hand before his eyes and wriggling your fingers. With a darker, goofy voice you ominously proclaimed: "I put a spell on you~~"

He kissed you again, his smile clear as day. You pulled back and whispered: "and now you're mine" Again, he smiled and you noticed his glasses were slightly tilted, so you took them off, driving your fingers through his hair, which was now a bit longer then when he came to you, and you put them back on. "How did you feel, Alexander, dear?" "Really good... Does it... Feel the same for you?" You hummed positively, his eyes flickering down to his thigh between your legs, he noticed your legs were a tad bit closer than before, the way your height shifted backwards, as if trying to get more and yet less touch at the same time.

"Can I help you? Can you guide me?" "You really don't need to, Alexander. We can take it slow." "What if I want to?" You breathed in. Okay. So you were doing this. You smiled again, and took his hand in yours, guiding it towards yourself. "Take it slow, Alexander, there is no need to rush, okay?" He nodded, following your lead. You leaned back a bit, your hand letting go of his and switching to his wrist, his hand bumpino against your erection. "This is the same I did to you" you took the hand you had just left and pulled him towards you, as he started to lean forwards to meet you halfway, guiding his hand to wrap around yourself

You hummed. "Now just-" "go?", He smiled at you and you let out a laugh through your nose at the throwback. "Just go." And go he did. He was careful at first, his hand staying straight as he only pumping his hand up and down, pressure nearly unnoticeable. There wasn't anything building just yet, your desire for something being satisfied. "You can experiment, Alex, I'm not gonna break", you smiled, your hand resting on the one he held himself up with. That was when his hand started moving with experimental paces, faster, slower. He applied pressure however he saw fit, a delicious thrum starting to build.

His hand alone made you feel really good, despite the basic way he used it and, oh did you wonder what he would be able to do if he was more experienced. You hummed and he applied harsh pressure suddenly, your hips thrusting up a bit. You looked at Alexander, his green eyes glimmering, as you found them still looking at you - your face. You moaned at that, your hand reaching over and pulling him even closer. His movements slowed, before he stopped completely, before his fingers feathered out a bit and he set a different pace, a different pressure. You let his shoulder go, focusing again on keeping yourself sitting.

He had an irregular pace, the harshness and actual pace of his pumps being vastly different from each other - he learned. From nothing but the things you did to him. His hand was huge compared to yours, fingers wide and calloused. So when he pushed back to your head, his spread fingers brushed the thin line at the top and you jolted like you had just experienced an electric shock, a loud gasp escaping you as well - you hadn't expected this. He stopped dead in his ministrations, studying you for a minute. Your face was flushed, you were leaned back onto your hands, eyes nearly closed, but not quite, focusing on his own.

He looked down, pushed his hand down and did the same as before, with the slide of his finger over the slit - as he got not even a similar reaction he pressed his finger ghosted over it slowly again, and another jolt ran through your body. Alexander smiled and you knew you were in for it now. He took your shoulder and gently pushed you down on the bed, kneeling between your legs. His hand lowered from the sensitive spot and his other hand sneaked there instead, finger pressing and exploring exactly where it was, eyes never leaving yours. And when he found it, oh dear lord in heaven, you prayed he'd have some mercy left for you.

With the combined experimenting pumps and moving of his fingers you were quick to grasp his shoulders, squeezing and pulling, your high approaching. You body shivered, as you called his name, fluids spilling onto his hand, as you hands gripped harder and your head fell back, breath quick but steadily slowing down. Alexander didn't look away. He sat there, a bit confused on what to do with his hand, so he just... Held it over his lap. Your cum dropping onto his bare legs. You shifted into a sitting position and gave him a smile, before noticing how lost he looked. You didn't waste time to hurry and get some tissues to wipe himself - and your hand clean with.

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After you pushed him to the shower, both of you opting to just do so together, because, why would you care now about nakedness of all times? You both got dressed, before you changed the sheets and, even though he offered to help, you ordered him to just wait a few minutes. He did. Then you gestured for him to sit on the bed with you. "So, That's what it feels like." "Everytime?" You shook your head. "Not everytime without exception. It might be more or less intense or satisfying." He seemed to hesitate to ask you the next question, but you just answered it before he could ask: "I am very satisfied, Alexander"

He smiled and took your hand, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get some snacks", he offered, giving you a kiss. You smiled as well, giving him a peck on his cheek. "Yep, let's go!"

Return to me (Alexander Anderson x AFAB!Reader)

You know Alexander from the Library you worked at - when he one day stands in front of your day at the end of the year 1999, you can not deny him shelter. And now, you definitely didn't regret it

NSFW below

NSFW cut: ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

Not Beta Read, we die like {redacted}

You never thought you'd see him again, but there he was, standing right in front of you was the tall, blonde priest with green eyes that had a way to obvious scar on his cheek, asking you if you had a place for him to stay for some time. Your heart was still somewhat broken by being rejected by said man, that fateful day where you had decided to accept he would reject you and went and got it for yourself, thinking you might be able to get over it, your love for that man.

Needless to say, you didn't. You never did and didn't think you ever would. But everytime he came into the library, asking you for a book you couldn't help but falling for him. And fall you did, landing hard in the reality that he was a priest, the he was to not mingle in relationships with others, his only devotion being god and the preachings of the bible. You had started to read the books that he did, finding most to be about the occult, werewolves, vampires, witches, wendigos... And how to kill them. Books that were written like research, obviously being a piece of someone's fantasy.

But then he would come in and get children's books, about the holy Mary, about birds and trains and flowers, about the way the sun would rise and laugh, but how the clouds would always cry. When you found out he was living in an orphanage, you wanted to go so badly, it wasn't far, but it wouldn't be fair. So the next time he had come by, you had asked him out for a stroll - not a date, just to get to know him, to become friends. His positive response had surprised you.

So why, after all that time of him caring, in the end rejecting and going seperate ways, was he standing in front of you, on this winter afternoon in 1999? And where was his priest robe? He had his usual coat on, but only a thin shirt and jeans, so you didn't waste time, letting him into your house. "Alexander? What are you doing here?" "I quit. And I- You said you'd always be there when I need something, and right now, I don't have a home. Can I stay? Only until I find something for myself, of course." You turned the thought over in your head. The Basement was free, you'd only have to clean it up, maybe stash everything in your garage. "God, sit down first. Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate?"

Sitting down with him, each sipping on their own tea, you finally spoke up. "I really should question how you figured out where I live, but the reason you quit interests me more." He sipped on his tea. "There have been... Some mindest differences recently. Between me and the church. While I am incredibly sad to leave behind the children, I couldn't accept staying there. Not with the recent happenings in London." "London? What does the Church have anything to do with the destruction of London?" He just smiled. You never got an answer. But you guessed it was more involvement then what the newspapers told you.

Sometimes, the ex-priest talked to you about an old friend, one, who vanished back in London. You didn't know if he was dead or just disappeared in the rubble, or if it was... A different kind of friend. You looked after him a lot of the time, driving him back and forth from monestary to your home so you could get all his belongings. You even had to drive to the Vatican - Who had an own room in the Vatican?! It had taken months for him to settle comfortably in the basement, old bookshelves and boxes and dressers functioning as his only storage. You bought him a new bed, so he could at least afford a good rest - he promised to repay you, but you shook it off. It was a cheap one anyways.

You helped him find work in the city, helped him with a driver's licence and, in the end, you both scrapped your money together to get him a car. It was second-hand, fairly cheap compared to the other cars on the market, small and old-school. But he was happy with it, and so were you. After a good 3 months you finally convinced him to buy new clothes, instead of just opting for your old father's ones, it was exciting finally seeing the fashion taste of a man previously running around only in his religious tell-tale robe with the crosses.

He picked out a few checkered ones, others had random prints on it. You got him to buy a muscle shirt (mainly for your own entertainment, but also because it got really hot during summertime) and some pullovers for winter - one Pullover was relatively thin and black, covering his neck from the cold winds that would come in 6 more months. A lot of people had stared at you - maybe it was the fact you were just average size and he was - well - over 2 meters tall, maybe they held you for a couple or found him handsome. But maybe, it was because of his scar. You never knew for certain how he got it.

You saw him enter the library on a fairly quiet day, he hadn't visited for weeks, probably on one of his trips to foreign countries. He didn't take long to get to the Check-out and you were snooker to see his face. His left cheek had a big white patch on it - a compress. There was a thin line in the middle with red specks of blood. When you asked him what had happened, he had dismissed you, saying it had been an accident he didn't want to talk about. The next time, you saw the wound. It was three scratches all neatly lined up, like claw marks. It was then you had your first suspicion, the middle one deeper then the other two, the skin around it a deep purple.

After that visit, he came in again, this time, the upper and lower scratch were healed completely, the middle one still deep and purple, as if it couldn't heal. That's when you knew. You knew what he had been doing, why he had been away, why he had been injured. You had asked him to come to the staff bathroom, getting an idea. You had confronted him, he had brushed it off, yet still he let you cut around the edges, widening the wound and, effectively, overwriting the original one. The wound had healed in a few weeks, only leaving behind the nasty scar on his cheek.

In month 6 of him staying with you, he was finally able to afford his own Appartment so he started scouting. You helped him, of course, You taught him how to use the library computers, so he could scout more effectively, he actually understood it really fast. A smart man, he was. The landline phone, he had figured out within a few weeks of you introducing it to him and he called the monestary every weekend. You liked to listen. He would be a good father, you decided, when you heard him talk with the kids, reassuring them he didn't forget them and that he would stop by from time to time.

He held his word, always arriving to any of their birthdays with a personalized gift. You were happy to be able to accompany him. Some of the nuns were a bit suspicious first, thinking you might have taken advantage of Alexander, but they were quick to trust you and your words - you did love him, but you'd never try to take advantage of him - even though that wasn't something that they needed to know.

Alexander had found the Appartment he wanted to live in during month 8. He was happy, you were not. You offered him to stay for longer, so that he could pay the bills as well - which was something he had totally forgotten about. He lost the Appartment and you felt guilty.

But when winter rolled around again, seeing him in that long-sleeve neck Pullover, paired with thick, dark grey jeans with a fashionable belt and a silver cross necklace, you nearly forgot to breathe, or that you had been feeling guilty. After the incident with the Appartment, things had started to change. You noticed he looked at you fondly, for longer than normal, he smiled whenever you did something - if it was a greeting, rambling, making food - you had noticed he was a way better cook and picked up habits of you - humming along to your music or just watching a show. It seemed weird. Whenever asked, he would just say that he was happy you had been the one to take him in.

On his birthday, you had taken him out to a more expensive restaurant, treating him to something you called "culture cruise". You introduced him to proper Italian traditions that he had missed out on in the orphanage, traditional food that wasn't served there, you showed him a cinema and he was blown away by the movie, not being able to believe it. He had missed out on so much, leading such a humble, yet dangerous, life, that you were more than adamant about giving him a life he deserves. A life full of care, gratefulness, and, if possible, love.

He had liked his birthday, even though, in the end, he admitted, that it would have been enough to spent it with you - but that he was thankful you wanted to show him your world. You asked him to show you his, and, even though he dismissed it now, he would show you later on. After getting home, there was something weird. Between you two, of course, not in your house. You both wanted to retiree for the night, but again, both of you lingered in the living room near the stairs up to your room and down to his. "I'm glad you liked today, I was a bit worried", you admitted out of the blue. He scratched his neck, his muscles showing under the thin pullover. You questioned how he wasn't cold.

He was quiet a bit, before speaking up. "I... I loved this glimpse into your world. It was educating and it meant a lot to you, so I.. You mean a lot to me and so does your world. So I thank you dearly for taking me along, sunshine." You smiled again, wider this time, liking the nickname maybe a little too much. After that it took a few more moments of silence, for both of you to say your goodbyes and go to sleep. You, however, were unable to, thinking about the way he was treating you, how much he cared about you and your world. He really was a gentleman, if you were sure about him feeling similarly about you, the way you felt about him, then you would be glad to, maybe, someday, call him your husband.

Your first kiss came the next day. It wasn't your first overall, but it was the first with him. Maybe it had been the music and jokefully romantically made dinner - you genuinely just wanted to recreate the ambiance of the restaurant, there was never an intention to make it feel so appealing. But joking around with him, about some of the older, black and white movies and the more recent coloured ones, him joking with you there was a moment of you playfully leaning into his side, lamenting over something random, like the candles, while he calmly, in an equal joking matter grabbed your arm softly. You shot up to kiss him on the cheek, something he, apparently, also felt like doing.

It had taken not even a second, before you pulled back, apologizing profusely, you face flushed - as was his. He smiled, saying it was no matter. You sat down to eat, face fixed in the food. He stood there for a moment longer, before he asked, bashfully: "Would you like to do it again?" You looked up, his gaze locked onto you, as if he felt no shame. Why would he, you thought. It was a mistake, nothing more. But why did he offer? Did he.. were your suspicions really correct? He didn't move, standing there. The offer he had just given you hang heavy in the air, debating whether to act on it or not.

You chair creaked when you pushed it back a bit. "Would you like to do it again?" Alexander's face turned a deeper red than before. He was quiet, before admitting a small "yes". It was then that you stood up and closed in on him.

"Then, I would like one as well"

The second kiss was really worth it. It was long, gentle and loving. It felt warm, comforting - it felt good. On a completely unrelated note, the food was delicious as well. You just loved eating this dish - especially with Alexander in front of you, the kiss and it's implications - even though it was less of an implication and more of a flashy Broadway Sign, after all, a kiss - no, technically two - seemed like a very exclusive thing that two people wouldn't do if they just were friends, unprompted by any dare.

Long story short, after dinner, there was a deep talk and you both decided to try. And try you did. It worked out fine, the only thing that really changed was the few kisses, the cuddle-sessions and the trips - now dates - to town. It wasn't really a secret, but it also wasn't really public. It's that weird in between-thing, where you knew, but you just weren't quite ready to tell everyone - but showing wasn't really a problem. Alexander had the habit to keep you close - it was a habit he had picked up one or two months after being at your home, but now, he just seemed to be more open about it, actively seeking you out. This day, it had been particularly bad and after getting home, you had asked him about it. He seemed taken aback.

"I'm Sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to, I'll keep it in mind next time"

You sighed. "No, no, Alex, that's not- that's not what I meant. I was simply curious on why you did it, I apologize if it came over wrong"

Alexander looked at you for a few seconds, contemplating if he should tell you. Then: "I am scared"

You could tell he wasa bit uncomfortable, but you couldn't just leave it here. You took him by the hand, setting him down on the couch and sitting next to him, your own hand in his. "If you want to, you can tell me. I'm here for you." Alexander seemed torn, it was the first time you had seen him this conflicted, this... This pained.

"London was last year.", He started and stopped right after. It clicked into place for you, but you wanted him to go on. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, lightly stroking your thumb over his hand in yours, a smile on your lips, as you silently told him to take his time. "It was... I mean you read about it, of course, but... I was there. It was horrible and I- I lost more friends than just one." Oh, that was something you actually hadn't thought about, but it made sense. "One was my student. Her name was Yumiko and she was great. Heinkel nearly lost their life as well - a lot of the division died, nearly all, even though I told them to stay back. I lost so many friends, when I tried to save them all"

He took his hand away then, covering his eyes with his hands and bending forward, hiding his face. Your smile dropped. He didn't loose one person, he didn't loose a few. He lost everyone. You got down on your knees, sliding between his legs and taking his hands away gently. He wasn't crying, not yet anyways - but his eyes were shining bright with the promise of salty water spilling over any second. "Were you scared to loose me too?" He nooded then. You got up from this position, pulling him into a hug. " You won't, Alexander. That life is beyond you now, it's behind us both. We are here together, we are here, Alex. We are alive." You pressed his hand to you heart. "We are both alive."

That day was one you never forgot. Alexander Anderson, previously a priest and in charge of an orphanage, as well as something with the occult, member of a division you had never heard of, was traumatized. He had been vulnerable with you, around you. He had shared his pain and you had accepted it, accepted him and all the implications and complications that came with it. How could he ever hope to find someone better? He didn't, and he never would, because you, he was convinced, were the best choice he could ever make.

When one year had run by, you realized he had never slept in the same bed as you. Not even when one of you fell asleep on the couch, he would always be gone and in bed instead. So today, you tried to get him to sleep with you - not in a sexual sense, by God, only sleeping next to each other, maybe (hopefully) cuddling. That was the day you realized no one had cover taught this man anything about relationships or explained That, when the bible quoted "thou shall not lie with a woman, if thy art not married", or whatever the actual quote said, it didn't mean sleeping in the same bed, but sleeping together.

So that was a conversation you needed to have, and, in retrospect, it was fairly funny, but back then, it was undeniably weird to be the one to give a grown man, which you were together with, sex education. That didn't seem like your job, but now you stood here, and he stood there, and that was the situation you were in. "So uh, the Bible doesn't really mean sleep, Alexander. It means sex." He had heard that word uttered in disgust and disdain by the nuns that had raised him, heard more about this being an act of either love or lust between a man and a woman. He never knew that was what the line meant, nor did he know what sex actually was.

So he disclosed it all to you. You shook your head, in denial that any institute for raising and educating children would stop at sex and don't even mention it to them. What if they would have gone and discovered it on their own, maybe way too young or having to deal with the consequences alone? "Well, traditionally speaking, in most cultures and religions sex is between a man and a woman, but not exclusive. Men can do it with men and women with women. In a traditional sense it's something very intimate, something you do with one you trust fully. Someone you love, if we keep it extremely Christian."

Alexander nodded, seemingly soaking up everything you were saying. "So uhm, do you know the difference between make and female anatomy" "I raised children" point taken, stupid question. "Okay so, Sex is when you put your uh-" god this was more embarrassing than showing and recommending someone erotica and explaining in detail how exactly it was interesting. "So you put your penis into the vagina of the woman and just... Go." "Just go?" "Just... Just go, yes." "How does it work between the others?" Oh lord, have mercy. "So between a man and a man, it just goes in the ass, or they get themselves off with hands or mouths, which is similar in that case with women. There are also specific toys that help."

Alexander seemed a bit puzzled, but the red taint on his cheeks made you realize, he was also embarrassed about this, even though you were sure you were way more red - your head was steaming and cooking your brain. At least that's what it felt like. "But what do you mean with just go?" You just wanted for a portal to hell to open up. At this point, burning you skin off in an eternal hellfire seemed more acceptable than this. "Just go. Like... In and out" "Like when you need to fill a tire of a bike with air?" "Yes. Absolutely. Like a piston, in some ways. Obviously that's not all there is to it, but that is essentially how it works. Have you never tried to uhm- do it yourself?"

You had never seen him so flustered. "No! That was forbidden, seen as a sin!" "Hey, there's genuinely nothing wrong with it. It's actually quite healthy. You're not part of the Church anymore, you don't need to abide to their beliefs." He seemed to stop. Like he was a computer that just shut down because you opened three tabs on the browser and caused a Microsoft error. He had never thought about that before, you realized. It's just been a year away from the church, the place that raised him, homed him, gave him an occupation - of course everything was still indoctrinated in him. How could you expect something else?

You went to bed seperately.

The next day was still a bit awkward, but by the second day everything returned to normal. He even decided to actually do sleep in your bed with you - only after about a month of consideration. You were happy, however. If he was comfortable, then you were too. Alexander had become the thing you thought your life revolved around. When you went out to go shopping, you immediately looked if you could bring him something from your trip. When you were cooking, you thought about how he would cook it, or how he would like it. And when you were cuddling, you thought about the way he was warm, that he was alive, alive with you. Days passed like this, weeks, months even.

"Sunshine?" You hummed positively, looking up from your book. He had been reading one of his own, a recommendation from you. "I was curious." You hummed again, putting your mark in you book and closing it. "I don't know if it's an approprita question." "Shoot your shot, dear." He seemed to think for a second. "I have been thinking about something you said." You grew a bit impatient. "When?" "I don't know, a few months ago. You said I wasn't part of the church anymore and thus do not need to abide their rules" "Dear, whatever you want to ask, just ask. I won't crucify you. And the church won't either."

He closed his book as well, scratching his beard stubble. "Maybe we could try it out?" Before you could ask what he meant, he elaborated, realizing he hadn't said what. "Sex, I mean. Apologies if I'm overstepping-" You nearly choked on your own spit. What. The. Hell. What had you done to this man? He had been so shy, so embarrassed about it, and now, he sat there in front of you, asking you such a question. You mean, damn. If that isn't some quick character development. If you were serious though, you had thought about it as well. Of course, you didn't want to bring it up, as not to pressure him. So this, was perfect.

"Sure, let's go." He was taken aback slightly by the way you stood up, starting to walk to the stairs. "Why go?" "To the bedroom, dear. Yours or mine?" He stood up as well, stopping next to you. "Yours." You sat him down on the bed. "I suppose you don't know more than I told you?" He shook his head. "Don't worry, I will take the lead." "You did this before?" "Yeah, but never like this." "In charge?" "That. And with someone I love."

ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

You took his hands and let them rest on your waist, as you settled on his lap, going for a kiss. You pushed yourself close, shamelessly resting on his crotch. You pulled away, taking one of his big, calloused hands and sliding it up, to rest next to your breast. "You can touch me, you know." He seemed hesitant, but you went in for another kiss, keeping his mouth open this time, your tongue brushing his, animating him to participation. He was eager to follow your lead. His hand slipped to your back instead, holding you close. You pushed back again, leaving him some room.

Your thumb pressed on his scar, the slightly elevated, jagged surface soft and yet hard beneath your fingers. You pushed your hand under his jaw, pushing his head back and starting to kiss along his neck, his throat releasing a loud, shuddering breath, as the hand that had pushed his head back slowly trailed down his throat, cold fingers ghosting over the warm skin, fingers barely touching him. Your other hand guided his hand on your breast, squishing it in his large hand. His other hand, still on your waist, gripped you harshly, it brought a slightly hurtful feeling up in you, but it made you feel secure.

You pulled back, Alexander finally finding the courage to explore your body, his head snapping back almost immediately, eyes fixating on yours. His gorgeous green eyes glowing behind his glasses. You slowly reached up, but he stopped you before you could take them off. "No. I don't-" "Okay" and just like that he was back to roaming your body, enjoying as your hands slid over his. A few moments later you sat up on your knees, pulling off your shirt. Alexander seemed a bit flustered at first, but got over it fairly quickly.

You kissed him again, your body shifting a bit, pressing close again, his hand trapped between you bodies, as he leaned back, other hand supporting his weight. You stood up, pulling him with you as well. You discarded all of your clothes, watching him do the same. It was mesmerizing how a small bit of his torso showed when he lifted his arms up, pulling his own shirt over his head. The muscles in his arms flexed slightly, his shirt falling to the ground next to him. Scars were all over his body, the cross of the silver nacklace resting where his collarbone was, a cross tattooed onto his skin with the words "yes jesus" in it. You recalled seeing said design on his gloves when he was still a priest. His trousers were the next to go it was the first time Alexander's head was actually lower than yours.

He sat down on the bed again, back resting against the headboard. You did the same you did before - sitting in his lap. Just, this time, you could feel whenever the muscles in his leg twitched when you bit down or kissed or sucked in a particular way, felt how he tensed and relaxed when you shifted your body. It was captivating, the expression he made. His eyes were on you, the entire time he was focused on you, nothing else. His hands never left you, pulling you close. He was breathing loud, not quite panting, but close enough. And then, when you actually felt him, you realized a grave mistake. You couldn't show him, because you didn't expect this and had no condoms, and no pill, and he definitely had neither either.

"Alex, dear" he hummed. "We can't do it quite the way you want it yet, but we can do it differently." Before he could ask why, you continued. "We don't have protection. I'll go out and buy some, but not right now. I can show you other ways." The Catholic was silent, before a breathless "yes" left his lips. You kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip, before pulling back and spitting in your hand. "It's not the best, sorry" he wanted to reply, but when your hand ghosted over the head of his cock, before you slick hand closed around it pushed him into a whole new sensation. It was weird, to be touched there by someone else. But not unwelcome.

He grasped at your hips, pushing you down and towards him a bit, your entrance brushing his slightly elevated thigh. He pulled you into another kiss, breaths mixing with each other as both of you tried to breathe through your noses, Oxygen soon running out despite your best efforts. You pushed back a bit, getting into a more comfortable position. Your hand gabbed him a bit harder, a loud moan being your response. You slowly started pumping up and down in a slow pace with no constant rythm. Sometimes it was all the way to the head, sometimes only a short, cut off up and down shifting.

You twisted your hand, lifting a few fingers and adding them again from time to time. Alexander's Head rested against the wall, his mouth opened, sounds leaving his vocal chords in low hums or gasps, vulnerable sound that he trusted you with. You hummed as well, seeing one of his hands grabbing the sheet, crumbling them. You wouldn't be surprised if he ripped them. The other was still bruising your hip, a thrum of slight pain shoot up, a thrum of the love he shared for you. You hummed, your hips pushing themselves forwards on his thigh to gain some friction, a movement immediately stopped by you.

This wasn't about you. This was about him. A moan escaped your lips. "Alexander-" You felt him twitch when you changed the pressure, tighenting and loosening your grip in random intervals. He moaned, trying to hold your stare, while his hand wanted to fall back. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing loud, chopped and fast. You never knew what a sight you missed out on and he never on what kind of pleasure. This Sight, you were sure, was one you'd never be able to forget, if he would leave you know... You're done for. But the way , he looked into your eyes, torso jolting forwards whenever electric signals went through his muscles, he was in just the same situation.

"Sunshine-" You knew he was close, when you felt the sticky liquid leaking onto your fingers and when he involuntarily started thrusting his hips up in a jerking motion, as if his body told him what to do and he had no choice but to comply. When he did tip over the edge, you had the feeling as if he was about to crush your hip and hand, but if this is how you lost them, it'd be worth it. The way he calmed down, his chest rising and falling abruptly, noticeably slowing down as you removed your hand, watching as the white-ish colour leaked out, gathering and spilling over the edge, cascading down as if it was a water fountain without pressure.

You smiled patiently, warmly, even though you yourself were extremely desperate. You waited until he came back to you, finally leaving this state of pure bliss. His head was flushed red, the red spreading down his neck and disappearing into his shoulders, but he slowly regained his colour. "Dear lord in heaven...", he breathed, gaping air in as much as he could, "what have you done to me?" You chuckled and smiled, "Just falling in love, my dear. Just falling in love." Alexander laughed at that, his hand on your hip grabbing your waist an coupling you back in, lips meeting again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're a witch that out a spell on me" You grinned, raising your hand before his eyes and wriggling your fingers. With a darker, goofy voice you ominously proclaimed: "I put a spell on you~~"

He kissed you again, his smile clear as day. You pulled back and whispered: "and now you're mine" Again, he smiled and you noticed his glasses were slightly tilted, so you took them off, driving your fingers through his hair, which was now a bit longer then when he came to you, and you put them back on. "How did you feel, Alexander, dear?" "Really good... Does it... Feel the same for you?" You hummed positively, his eyes flickering down to his thigh between your legs, he noticed your legs were a tad bit closer than before, the way your height shifted backwards, as if trying to get more and yet less touch at the same time.

"Can I help you? Can you guide me?" "You really don't need to, Alexander. We can take it slow." "What if I want to?" You breathed in. Okay. So you were doing this. You smiled again, and took his hand in yours, guiding it towards yourself. "Take it slow, Alexander, there is no need to rush, okay?" He nodded, following your lead. You leaned back a bit, your hand letting go of his and one of your fingers slightly disappearing into yourself. "This is where you need to go" you took the hand you had just left and pulled him towards you, as he started to lean forwards to meet you halfway. You took the finger out, Alexander noting that it was wet. He thought he had just imagined that his thigh had gotten wet, but now he knew he hadn't.

He was taken aback when he felt just exactly how wet you were, his index finger sliding in easily, nearly being sucked in. You hummed. "Now just-" "go?", He smiled at you and you let out a laugh through your nose at the throwback. "Just go." And go he did. He was careful at first, his finger staying straight as he only pulled out a small amount and filling back in, finger not even buried to the hilt. There wasn't anything building just yet, your desire for something being satisfied. "You can experiment, Alex, I'm not gonna break", you smiled, your hand resting on the one he held himself up with. That was when his finger started moving, exploring. He seemed to massage you from the inside, finally eager to know every single twist and turn.

His finger alone brushed the spongey end you knew so well and, oh did you wonder what he would be able to do if he was more experienced. You hummed and he curled his finger a bit, your hips jerking up again. You looked at Alexander, his green eyes glimmering, as you found them still looking at you - your face. You moaned at that, your hand reaching down and pulling his hand even closer. His movements slowed, before he pulled his finger nearly completely out, as a delicious, slow stretch made itself prominent and you realized, that he just added another finger. You let his hand go, focusing again on keeping yourself sitting.

He had an irregular pace, the harshness and actual pace of his thrusts being vastly different from each other - he learned. From nothing but the things you did to him. His hand was huge compared to yours, fingers wide and calloused. So when he pressed back into the spongey end, his fingers playing around with it, his hand brushed your clit and you jolted like you had just experienced an electric shock, a loud gasp escaping you as well - you hadn't expected this. He stopped dead in his ministrations, studying you for a minute. Your face was flushed, you were leaned back onto your hands, eyes nearly closed, but not quite, focusing on his own.

He looked down, lifted his hand away and did the same as before, with the pressure of his hand on your clit - as he got not even a similar reaction he pressed his hand down on you again, and another jolt ran through your body. Alexander smiled and you knew you were in for it now. He took your shoulder and gently pushed you down on the bed, kneeling between your legs. His hand raised from the bundle of nerves and his other hand sneaked there instead, finger pressing and exploring exactly where it was, eyes never leaving yours. And when he found it, oh dear lord in heaven, you prayed he'd have some mercy left for you.

With the combined experimenting thrusts and moving of his fingers you were quick to grasp his shoulders, squeezing and pulling, your high approaching. You body shivered, as you called his name, fluids spilling onto his hand, as you hands gripped harder and your head fell back, breath quick but steadily slowing down. Alexander didn't look away. He sat there, a bit confused on what to do with his hand, so he just... Held it over his lap. Your juice dropping onto his bare legs. You shifted into a sitting position and gave him a smile, before noticing how lost he looked. You didn't waste time to hurry and get some tissues to wipe himself - and your hand clean with.

ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

After you pushed him to the shower, both of you opting to just do so together, because, why would you care now about nakedness of all times? You both got dressed, before you changed the sheets and, even though he offered to help, you ordered him to just wait a few minutes. He did. Then you gestured for him to sit on the bed with you. "So, That's what it feels like." "Everytime?" You shook your head. "Not everytime without exception. It might be more or less intense or satisfying." He seemed to hesitate to ask you the next question, but you just answered it before he could ask: "I am very satisfied, Alexander"

He smiled and took your hand, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get some snacks", he offered, giving you a kiss. You smiled as well, giving him a peck on his cheek. "Yep, let's go!"

Some things to know about this blog of Mine:

- I do X Reader stuff, I usually try to avoid Y/N, instead opting for (in my opinion) gender neutral nicknames

- It's written in 2nd person

- Reader is ALWAYS gender neutral UNLESS specified.

- If a reader's gender is specified it is most likely a smut one shot. This is mostly due to anatomy reasons, because I don't want to be too vague. I will use they/them never the less, if needed. There will be ALWAYS an AFAB and AMAB post, UNLESS it doesn't make sense (i.e.; drunk sex, where the character is too drunk to get a boner, etc.)

- I do requests. I am genuinely not done with a list of what kind of requests I want to do, but I definitely do angst, smut and fluff. You can get a character or an A x B Kind of thing, doesn't have to be reader. I reserve myself the right to deny anything I do not want to write or feel comfortable with, just in advance: you may have to wait a few months, since it's a really stressful time if my life rn

About myself:

- I am the age of consent. I do not want to disclose my actual age here, however.

- It doesn't matter what you call me, genuinely, I couldn't care less.

- I am AFAB, but I am Genderfluid and prefer to go by they/them. I don't mind other pronouns however

- I write, work and go to school, all while also having sports and therapy sessions in my free time, so my weeks are usually scuffed. I find my writing time at night, around midnight or later, reducing my sleeping time from 7 to 4 hours or less, yk, the usual

- It's usually an uncontrolled impulse, which is why I also don't proof read any of my texts ever. The One Shots I like, I do read over from time to time, sometimes I fix mistakes, usually I don't. Live with it or proof read my texts and send the mistakes to me, I do not have the time, nor patience

- I write directly on Tumblr or in my Notes app. Don't ask me how I stay sane AND trust my fingers to not fuck up my writing, I genuinely don't know myself.

Secondary Blog for Tag Games, Art, bs and more:

andersons-bayonettes

Engravings {Peruh X Reader}

After getting your first Tattoo, your boyfriend Peruh helps you through the pain and with care, torturing you with massaging the tattoo cream into your skin, your pained gasps ringing out, your body jolting forwards, trying to explain the way it hurt, when he touched your painted wound.

You had heard many horror stories about how painful a tattoo would be, but the hours you sat there getting your tattoo were mildly uncomfortable. It wasn't as bad as everyone had made it out to be, at the start you had nearly fallen asleep multiple times because it had been so relaxing. Your Boyfriend Peruh had held your hand and reassured you. He had laughed with you and commented on the process of the tattoo whenever you needed it. He one time went up to get some drinks and snacks for everyone in the room.

The end undoubtedly hurt the most. There just wer certain spots that hurt immensely, Peruhs' hand nearly being crushed by your sheer force of pain. It was all good, however. No tears were shed, the show was finished, and so was Our tattoo - a big hawk flying into space adorned your back now, a tad bit of blood seeping out very slowly, while the tattoo shined with the clear fluids to close the wound. You had thanked the artist and returned home after getting some clear foil over your tattoo, as to not stain your clothes. He drove you home.

The worst part wasn't the pain, it was not being able to shower for a solid two weeks. Every morning your boyfriend took the shower head, making sure the water wasn't too hot or cold, and washed the tattoo off with water, before patting it dry. You hung around without a shirt or bra in your house to let the tattoo air-dry and heal better and faster. You had no idea if it actually worked that way, but it had been suggested. Peruh was kind enough to even treat it with the treatment salve you had bought from the shop.

When he told you your tattoo was flaking off you first started to panic. ou had heard about tattoos falling off, but never about flaking off - had you down something wrong, or had the artist? Where you gonna end up with a nasty scar? He had been quick to shut it down, explaining it was simply flaking, and that the ink wasn't actually leaving your body. You ended up googling to to make sure and were thankful that everything healed correctly.

When it started to itch and you couldn't bare it, he simply placed his hands on the spot where it did, effectively ending the itching most of the time. He was a wonderful help and you were grateful. He even made progress pictures of the healing tattoo and updated you on ever single thing happening.

After two weeks were over there was one thing on your list, that was first - shower. Shower with the nearly scorching water running over your skin and using shampoo and conditioner and body wash without having to bend over the tub or using a washcloth, as to not get any chemicals inside your tattoo. Peruh joined you in the bathroom, wanting to see the fully healed tattoo. The second you got out, he still helped you dry off, his hand wandering to softly go over the painted picture, engraved in your skin forever.

"Such a beautiful picture on such a strong person. I am so grateful, so honoured you allow me to call you mine" "As I call you mine, my beautiful, handsome, gentle and loving partner. Thank you so much"

He had blushed at the compliment and bashfully exclaimed how he loved you until every star in teh universe would die. He could be a bit dramatic, but it was always a pleasure to hear such words. A storm of light, loving kisses were exchanged and you were left happy in the bathroom as he went to make dinner, a wonderful engraving on your back, always reminding you about him and the way he loved you.

"I love you too, Peruh. Even if all the stars in this universe died, I would love you still, until tmevery star in every universe died and nothing exists anymore"

Nobody like you {Eustass Kid X Chubby! Reader}

Fluff: Comfort

You're not feeling great, a sharp pain in your stomach keeping you from Work. After an emergency call to his workplace, your husband takes his break to come over and look after you. Making you feel better, not only physically, but also about yourself

You really couldn't understand why it had to be today of all days, that you were getting Ill. You really had tried to push through, but ended up calling your boss to excuse yourself for today. You apologized profusely, knowing, that your team would be short-staffed - especially today.

It was terrible. The pain, the day, the light, the dark, the volume, the way you felt guilty for not being able to work. After having a small accident that you definitely couldn't get rid of yourself, you had called the Mechanic's Shop. Killer was who answered, and who didn't waste a minute after hearing your weak voice, strained by the pain, asking for your husband.

Kid was on the phone in a matter of seconds. "What's wrong, plum? You alright?" "Yeah, kind of?" He repeated his words, this time with more pressure behind them. "I uh- I need you for a few minutes here, I think." "Be right there, don't you worry." You could hear him yell he's taking an emergency break, before the call went silent. You curled back up in your bed, trying to find a good position to feel comfortable in.

Kid arrived in a few minutes - undoubtedly a result of himself speeding all the way here. He helped you with your accident and layed next to you on the bed, your face facing him. You didn't want to look at him, felling ashamed of your situation and weakness. "Pumpkin" One of his sweet nicknames pulling you out of your head.

"You're the most gorgeous person I've ever seen. You're strong. Keep doing your best. You need something?" You shook your head, tears starting to rise up. Kid wasn't a man of many words - at least not of affectionate and sweet ones - so you cherished this more than anything. He came closer, putting his hands around your Body, slightly squishing the soft meat and letting you rest and relax against him however you liked.

"I love you, gorgeous." Your head fell forwards, you eyes looking away again, forehead hitting his chest. Your arms went around his Torso as best as they could from this very comfortable position. "Love you too, my handsome tulip"

(I don't) wish you the worst (Eustass Kid X AFAB!Reader)

Halloween is tonight, and after pestering your Best Friend Kid for long enough, you had managed to get him to at least dress up with you - you were a bit embarrassed about the basic topic - Angel and Demon - but that was now the least of your concerns, when you stood in the bathroom of Kid's house and looked at the white costume with bloodstains on it. Damned be your frequent nosebleeds and the fact you didn't take anything spare with you. What a shame it would be for Kid to see you like this, right?

NSFW below

Not Beta-Read, we die like Marines.

I don't use warnings lightly, so be warned. This one is focused on drunk sex. The Reader and Kid are both drunk. The Reader falls unconscious multiple times during intercourse without Kid stopping. It is only for a few seconds each time, but there is heavily discussed material of the effects of Alcohol, such as numbness, the increased intensity of touch, colours and the inability to think correctly. The Reader is technically not in a state of mind for such a decision, but neither is Kid. Warnings for Haemotolagnia, rather known as a blood fetish? Mentions of choking. If you are uncomfortable, leave. I will build in a possibility to skip over the Smut, but please, if this is not your thing, keep scrolling. This is a serious topic. Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ For the Alcohol-effect cut, ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗ for the Smut cut

It had already been a Surprise to you, that Kid even accepted to host a Halloween Party - especially at his house, since he really dreaded cleaning it up, but getting him to dress up with you in a partner look? Most definitely unexpected.

He had been fairly stubborn however, insisting on his topic of Pirate King and Queen, when you told him, that that was cool but just too overplayed for the red head, considering that was his childhood go-to costume.

You had looked up some costumes and ended up comissioning one for him, since he never seemed to like the ones you looked up to buy - and you couldn't sow at all, so you never really saw his costume, until he entered the living room with two Bitburger Beer in hand, after you had let yourself in.

The thing was, you had a crush on your best friend for a long while, way too long for it to still be a complete secret - Killer and Heat knew, while Wire suspected something. The only clueless one was Kid, but you knew, based on the years of accompanying him, that he didn't do relationships, or, if he did, they were purely physical and didn't last long. But you weren't that type of person, and instead of ruining your friendship with him you had just decided to get over him.

But now, seeing him near bare-chested, four black straps connecting right underneath the meeting point if his way too well toned pecs, golden metal ring, undoubtedly being cold, with the fur coat and the black horns nearly sprouting out of his tulip-like hair, pants tighter than Kid used to wear, you just couldn't deny your crush. It was still there, and it was currently boiling tea to throw it in your face. And it worked. You were flabbergasted as you accepted the beer, opening it with your teeth.

He was your demon, at least for one Halloween, and you were his angel, at least for one Halloween. You hoped it would be enough. You also had opted for something more revealing, not too extreme, but definitely sluttier than what you normally wore: white shorts, showing the bottom half of your round ass cheeks, as well as a white, bigger sheer white shirt, messily and only partially tugged into the pants, a white tank top underneath. You had some gold accessories and white feathers as earrings to symbolise the wings.

You were still waiting for another girl of the group, she had just gotten her PhD, and thus would arrive a bit late, but would definitely come over, until then you'd talk and drink a bit. The conversation with the boys usually turned out to go one if two ways: Something with Violence, or something dirty. Those were just their interests and neither you, nor Adission, the other one, minded one bit, they were just very entertaining to listen and to add to.

This time was no different, swaying from the topic of waiting, to the topic of work, to the topic of guns and the specific new models. You supposed this was normal for soldiers in the Military and one that runs a gun shop.

When Adission arrived, Kid layed out some music and the party started - with Mario Kart, because of course it would, it was a great game! Wire was the undefeated champion though and kicked everyone's butts. Next in the Table was Mario Party 8, old but gold, you and Adission Teaming up, as well as Kid and Heat and Wire and Killer. It was a wild ride, with lots of curses, but Killers foresight was something to behold - and the duo's skill in Mario games. The evening continued with little games. A buffet and lots of alcohol.

Maybe that was what landed you in this place. You had simply sneezed once and had felt the thick liquid slowly making it's way down the inside of your nose, when you quickly threw the controller at Killer, a Sto not lose this match of Smash against Kid, holding out a hand under your nose, tipping your head forward, hunching über a little and running to the bathroom with a quick "Fuck"

No chance though, the time it had cost you to get past Wire, Heat and Adission, had soaked your white shirt, where most of the blood had dropped. Even staining your tank top. Great. Today if all days, fitting, you thought with a butter taste in your mouth. Both, from the blood and from the Irony. You washed your hands, while your nose was still running, not liking the feeling of drying blood on your hands.

After round about five minutes your bleeding had stopped, your face and sink were both clean, only thing missing was leaning your clothes. That however, didn't work. ou tried, in hopes it might work this once, but as expected you only smeared the blood further. Devasted, you looked into the mirror, trying to figure a way out if this mess. Your phone was with your friends, you couldn't go to your friends, because of, well.. Kid.

It's not like you were embarrassed, everyone knew about your frequent nosebleeds, that was no secret. The Problem behind this was, that Kid had haemotolangia. He got turned on by blood. And it wasn't like it's small, like it would only arouse him on a naked body, if there was blood, it made him run hit, but if it popped? You avoided such a situation once before, when he told you about it, because you had cut your finger and wanted to change the Bandaid.

This was more than the finger.

This wouldn't go as lucky, you suspected.

You could try to avoid Kid seeing this? Maybe you could lend some clothes, if they would fit? Just when you made a decision to open the door and call out to Adission for help, there was a loud, banging Knick in the door. Even before he spoke you knew it was Kid "Aye, Angel. You okay in there? You've been gone for a solid 10 minutes." You huffed. "Kid, I can't come out right now"

"You need Pads? I have some in the upper left drawer." You stopped. "You have Pads?" "Yeah, for Emergencies." "Huh." Silence. "You gonna come out now?" "Kid I can't, I have Blood everywhere." "Are you okay?" "No?" It was more of a hopeful and confused question instead of an answer, but apparently enough for Kid to try to break open the door. "You're not okay, I'm coming in." Apparently he himself had forgotten his condition, because when you opened the door to genuinely stop him from breaking his own door, he stopped dead in his tracks, gaze falling on the red stains.

"Fuck"

You very much agreed. Fuck indeed.

His gaze seemed to darken, and you stepped forwards a bit. "Kid, do you have anything to spare?" His Eyes were still fixated in the blood, clinging to the red drops, the way it had smeared into a pink, slowly fading away into nothingness. You noticed he was way too out of it, so you stepped closer, touching his fur. "Kid? Just let me through and I'll ask the others" With the slightest push of your hand, he followed. You turned him sideways, passing by him without any effort. You reached the living room no problem, Kid staying behind in the position you left him in, only his eyes following your every move, his head tilting slightly when he couldn't trace you with his eyes alone anymore.

And then you were out of view.

Killer immediately sat straight, already knowing what probably had conspired, his character on screen stopping. Heat turned to you as well and stopped, his glass mid-air. "Does someone have some clothes I can burrow? Don't give me anything that can't get dirty though, my Nose will be having a field day today, I can tell." Killer got up, mentioning he might have something, taking you to his room with you - the boys lived together, so that was really fortunate.

He didn't have anything that was good though. He left for a second and came back with the biggest shirt you had ever seen. It was white, with a band logo on the front. You recognised it. Kid's.You stopped, thinking for a second. You would get a nosebleed again, you were sure. And if you weren't sure, you had to expect the shirt getting bloody either way. You accepted though, retreating to Killers room to change - no way you wanted to face Kid like this again.

Kid came back to the group roughly 10 minutes after you rejoined them. You knew what he had done and you would pointedly ignore it. He was determined to do the same, unlike Wire, who teased him quietly - so quiet you couldn't hear, but Kids reaction was more than enough answer for you. You really didn't know how to feel about this, after all it really was just Kid's weird and.. well, just weird - fetish, not like it had anything to do with you as a person. But somehow you also enjoyed the thought. Your crush doing... That to the thought of you? Like you had been to the thought of him? You stopped yourself before your thoughts would drift away.

The evening went by fairly quickly, hours passing like minutes, 1 am coming and going, reaching 2 am and suddenly it was already 3 in the morning. You grew tired, sleepy, the bottles of various kinds of alcohol that had already been emptied filling the table, some random music running in the back, Playlists long abandoned. Admission was nearly falling asleep, so Heat decided to let her have his room, and share with Wire for the night. You'd have to do the same. Which room though, still had to be decided. Killer was starting to clean some of the bottles, you helping him, while Adission groggily sauntered towards Heats room. Him and the other two boys were still participating in some drinking game.

The first one of them to give up was Wire, conceding in order to not throw up on the couch. It was an interesting match to watch, but it had been clear as day that Kid would be the one to win. And win he did, with roaring laughter and a small victory pose with his halfway drunken bottle, Heat struggling to get up to finally go to the toilet, after hours of holding it in.

Slowly but surely everyone went to bed. Kid had decided you could sleep in his room, he would sleep with Killer or on the couch, depending on the available space. Kid was a big man and he needed a lot of space. To be fair, all of the men in this household were.

Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ

So you and Kid were brushing your teeth, the way too big shirt of him, you reminded yourself, still hanging loosely on you relatively small frame. You finished up, waiting for Kid to finish as well. You yawned, the alcohol slowly getting to you - you hadn't drank as much as the others, but some stuff, you favourite liquor, that had been gone in less then a few seconds - downed by you. So you definitely weren't sober either, which you really started to notice, when Kid's golden eyes seemed to shine just a little brighter and sharper, when his red coat seemed more fluffy and bug and when his red hair looked so, so, oh so bright that it nearly hurt your eyes. Or was that the lights in the room? You weren't sure. You couldn't tell.

What you could however tell, was the way that Kid bended over the sink, spitting out the remains of his toothbrushing, gurgling some water and spitting that out as well, was hot. Hot in a way you would have probably never thought sober. He reached for the cabinet, slightly swaying while doing so, taking out some makeup remover and tissues. He started furiously rubbing his face, his shade turning just a tad bit more pink where he is rub the makeup off. His messy hair was still held back by the horns. And you don't know what came over your drunken mind, when you kneeled on the toilet you were sitting on, reaching for the closest horn and taking it off. It was a simple hair clip.

You placed it to the side, reaching for the other one, nearly tipping over and only being fought by Kid, Face hitting his shoulder, arm wrapped tight around you. "Careful Angel, wouldn't want you to-" his smug, cheeky grin disappeared when you looked up at him, that gaze from the earlier incident returning. You couldn't piece together why. He pushed you back onto your knees, tearing his eyes away. His rubs got more violent, and then you saw the red spot on his shoulder, the way it trickled down the front and side of his arm, following his toned build and setting the dark coat he was wearing.

You looked down, blood dripping onto the white shirt. You held your hand under your nose, realizing after the first drop hit you hand that you were bleeding again. Kid didn't leave. You didn't leave. You held you head over the sink, letting it drop, coating the blueish stone turning a deep red. Kid stopped, face halfway done. His eyes fixated on you, the way the red dropped from the tip of your nose. He put the tissue aside, after forcing himself to move, getting another one, soaking it in cold water an puttingbit on your neck to cool down the blood and make it stop faster.

You washed the blood from your hand, starting to clean the sink, when he stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

"Don't"

So you didn't. The blood kept running for a few more minutes, while kid finished his face, slightly distracted by your predicament. "Angel" You looked up slightly, one of the last few drops running down to your upper lip, when your head tilted slightly. "Yeah?" He seemed to hesitate, his red face seemingly dropping a shade. "Your Costume was good." "Yours was hot", you blurted out. That made him laugh, a cocky grin returning to his face, as he looked at you. There still were a few stray drops of blood coming from your nose, but the bleeding had stopped.

You had smears of it all over your face. Kid grabbed you chin, taking the tissue from your neck and slowly wiping the tip of your nose clean, when he stopped. He had a thought. And you had a hunch of heat kind of thought it was. You were proven right, when his lips connected with your cheek, tongue going over the smeared blood and sucking int the skin there. You looked down at him. That was a weird feeling. His nose near your ear, hair brushing you skin, the wet muscle gliding greedily over the half dried blood.

You reached a hand up to your lips, collecting the blood that had run down. "I have some on my lip too." An Invite. A question. He could refuse. Not like he would, considering he was fairly drunk as well. "Can I get the tissue?" You offered a way out, even though his answer was clear. Kid pulled back, eyes dangerously lidded, the ember eyes glowing, and a fight inside of him. A fight he lost, considering how aggressive he captured your lips, messy, open-mouthed and collecting the blood with his tounge, sharing it with you.

"Fuck, I wanted to do that all night"

◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗

You hummed when he let go of you. "Those shorts really suit you well. That costume was so goddamn attractive, but the blood?" He groaned low. "Like a murder angel or s'm shit." His voice started to slur, when his other hand, which had been gripping the sink came up to his top you were wearing, pushing it high enough for the shorts to be visible. The metal, stained with blood left bloody fingerprints on the shirt as he held it in place, the hand on your chin settling on your hips, squeezing.

He pushed you back a bit, the back of you legs hitting the toilet and loosing you balance. He held you firm, his prosthetic hand catching your wrist and pulling it close to his mouth, sucking away some of the blood there. You hummed again, the booze hitting you full force now. "Kid?", You asked, voice playfully slurring, you head falling back, staring at the ceiling. "Kiiiid", you repeated right afterwards, not waiting for an answer. He supported your head, making you look at him, metal cool on your scalp. "What?"

"''m hot" His smile widened. "Want me to make you cold?" You hummed approvingly. "Don't regret it" he pushed his metal hand under the shirt, following the path up from your navel, towards your breast, his metal fingers trying to sneak under the bra. He couldn't feel it, how he was moving over it, instead under, how is fingers only grazed your skin, making you shudder whenever they did.

Your hands went to the metal ring on his chest, trying and failing to get it open, but you kept trying, huffing, frustrated. Then, angrily, you pulled, part of the ring opening, the first leather strap sliding off. You slid of the second and third one, pushing his cape off his shoulders and you hands settling on his muscular body, roaming, while you felt the hairs on his skin rising, where your touch would go.

Kid pulled off the shirt, pulling you into another hefty kiss, teeth crashing into each other and you mind blanking, when you saw how he looked at you, with hunger and a sense of furry, a rush to have you now and not a minute later. You lost you focus, lost your feeling, only seeing the red, the gold, the fire the man in front of you was, only coming back to reality, when you felt his metal hand on your naked breast, bra abandoned, even though you don't remember him doing so.

One of his metal fingers swiped along your nipple, careful as not to hurt you. His other hand, however, groped your ass, roughly, pulling you even closer and grinding into you, his erection pressing against you, rutting himself against your body in irregular timing and differing force, his desperation clearly visible. He groaned, the voice vibrating through the connection of your mouths, making you groan as well. His metal hand slipped away, going back to the sink and coming back to your body, smearing blood wherever his hand roamed. Your stomach, your breast, and when it went to hold your neck tightly, he left a bloody handprint of the metalic fingers and joints on your skin.

He didn't squeeze, but the simple pressure of his metallic hand on your throat, gripping just like he would a water bottle: firm to not slip, but not enough to crush, was heavenly. He pulled you away from the toilet, mouth still connected, tongues trashing in each others' caverns, when he pulled away, taking your hand, pulling you into his nearby room, pushing you against the door, closing it with a loud thud.

Your hands got lost in his hair, messing it up, combing through the small amount of gel in his hair, softening it to make it fall down, while he got to work on your shorts, drunken, fumbling fingers trying to open the closed button, failing and trying again. You hummed, opening them yourself and going back to his hair, when he pushed them down, over the bottom of your ass cheeks, where they slid to the ground easily, only needing a slight push of Kid's hand, to get them over the thickest part of your thighs. He lifted you up, your feet dangling in the air, you head starting to spin as he did so, loosing your sense of direction, your shorts falling from your ankles, when he let you down on the floor again, slightly to the left, back facing the bed.

You fell backwards the second he let go off you to take off his own pants, you body feeling way too week, drugged with alcohol and the haze of Lust, of want, of need. Your mind and body running hot, nothing feeling real and everything feeling 10 times more intense. You could feel every wrinkle of the sheets under you, could feel Kids hand approaching your last remaining piece of clothing, pulling your underwear off, your legs immediately falling uncomfortably open, considering your legs were still halfway in the air.

You saw his face getting closer, felt one of your hands being pushed next to your head, huge, warm, calloused fingers intertwining with yours. He lifted your body to his, pushing you further, when he let you fall down on the soft bed again, legs now completely on the bed, his mouth opening, the points of his canines clearly visible, as his upper lip pushed up a bit, wrinkles on his face forming, as he let out an unwanted low growl from deep inside his throat. The way he lowered his head to your throat in a matter of seconds, looking like a starved man, reminded you of the way a lion would bite into it's prey, tearing out the first patch of meat to devour after the successful hunt.

He was an animal.

But so were you.

Your fingers went around his back, one pulling his head even deeper into your throat, his tongue licking over your Adams apple, sucking hard, teeth digging deeper and deeper, hurting but in a pleasurable way - the feeling being so much, your other hand gripped his hand harshly, pulling, while also trying to get him away. Your mind was muddled, no thought forming, only focused on his groan, his sounds, absolutely infatuated with the way he was addicted, the way he couldn't get enough, the way his sucking on your throat made him feel like he was alive, as if he would die if he stopped. Your moans were breathless, hitching high from time to time, whenever he would suck or lick, or put pressure on the bite in a special way.

He pulled away, his lips glistening with his spit, the spot at the front of your throat where he had sucked, feeling wet - something trickling down your neck, if blood or saliva, you couldn't tell. His hair was disheveled, not sticking up quite as much as it did at the start of the night - not tidy this time, it was a mess, largely thanks to you. The hand in his hair moving to his chest, lightly brushing over the protruding scar, your mind registering the raggedness of it, the way it was uneven and slightly elevated from his chest.

The way he looked at you, hovering over you, his red hair so bright and messy, the colour of his eyes contrasting with his skin and hair beautifully, the way his hand still hold yours tight, pushing it into the mattress and the feeling you had, when you felt him between your legs, only one thought formed in your mind. And unwanted as it was, it announced itself in a quiet whisper:

"I love you"

Kid groaned at that, his metal hand lifting form the bedding and settling on your hip, his self-restraint hanging by a single thread, when he started to slowly push into you, his head fell forward, forehead meeting your collarbone, sending a painful chill from there to your head, when bone met bone. He huffed, while you let out a mixture of a hum and a moan, your head rolling back, the mark on your throat hurting while you did so.

When he started to slowly pull out and push in again, the hand on your chest gripped his shoulder again, you legs falling open even wider due to the somehow comfortable and uncomfortable feeling in your lap. The intrusion making you feel simultaneously stuffed to the brim, while also not being able to seemingly get enough. His face disappeared between your shoulder and neck, biting into the flesh there. You moaned loudly when his speed increased rapidly, his thrusts reaching a familiar spot, your back spasming off the bed, legs trembling, trying to close around him, as his name fell out of your mouth in high pitched, yet breathy screams, each varying in volume.

"Fuck, You're amazing, I can't get enough" his groans transformed into low moan, which he tried to surprise at first, an oddly gurgling grunt coming forth instead. But when he let go of that restraint, seeing your face, feeling the way your body spasmed, shivering under his touch, bending to the way he treated you, hearing you thrashing against the sheets, hearing you call his name, "Kid" over and over again, breathless and hitching, like you yourself couldn't believe this was real, your hands clutching his flesh hand in a way that almost hurt, the way your other hand dug into his shoulder, the way slow tears ran down the side of your head, he couldn't help himself. His moans weren't as loud as yours, they were more primal with a rough sound to them, fitting for a man like him. The hold he had in you hurt your hips, the cool metal slowly adjusting to your body temperature, his hand entangled with yours a bruising hold your returned with all your strength and passion.

You turned your head to the side, the dizzyness taking over again, black dots dancing in your vision, your body feeling way too hot again, the metal on your hips suddenly scorching, the feeling between your legs forming into a sharp but somehow comforting pain. A numbness spread from your brain, over your chest and to the tips of your toes, blacking out for a second again. You came back to your senses with overwhelming pleasure, your breath catching, hitching every split second, struggling for air, you body convulsing, tremors being sent up and down your body, making you tremble and thrash around.

But Kid had an Iron hold of you, after he had caught the way your body had slumped, head turned to the side, gaze unfocused, your hand slipping from his shoulders, you being obviously unconscious, there was no way he'd be stopping, when he knew you were close. You came back not even a second later, as if nothing had happened, Gaze still dazed, looking at his eyes, looking through them, the way the hand that had slipped grabbed your breast, a reflex when you came close, so impossibly close.

And when it stopped, A loud, high whine escaped your mouth, teary eyes focusing in Kid, as he kept going, which you didn't even feel at this point, only realising he was still there because of the hand. Your Head started to swirl, Colours spinning, clashing together, when you heard a voice "Angel, c'mon, stay" His voice muffled, was it strained? Your head faced the wall, even though you couldn't tell. Red flashed your vision, flodding with golden dots, when the blur disappeared over time, Kid's features sharpening. His nose, his red-fhushed face, a similar daze, even though not quite as strong as yours, in his eyes. A weak smile on your lips, as a hoarse "hey" was brought over your lips.

You felt a warm, funny feeling between your legs, when the numbness subsided a bit. "Angel", his voice broken, rough and there was something else, but you brain was too muddied to understand. "You're incredible." You hummed, loving his voice, managing another weak smile. "Rest", he whispered into your ear, stroking your cheek, "We'll take care of this tomorrow." In your dazed aphahe, while slowly drifting to sleep, you felt him lifting you from the mattress, loosing your sense of direction again, felt him putting you between soft sheets, his body close to yours.

Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗

The sun beams were streaming through the sides of the shutters on the windows when you woke up, Kid snoring silently, his right arm angled in a way, where his head was resting on his hand. You sat up slowly, you head spinning and hurting, immense pain throbbing behind your eyes. It felt like they could pop out any minute. You went on you hands and knees, climbing over Kids frame and nearly falling to the floor. Your legs felt weird, the funny feeling between your legs still there. Still? You didn't remember much from the evening.

You found your underwear and shorts, pulling them in and opting to rather look for one of his shirts, instead of going out of the room bare-chested to give everyone a perfect view of your body. You found one in the pike of clothes in a corner, one that didn't stink too much of sweat, as to not overwhelm your senses and one that wasn't as dirty as some of the rest were. You opened the door as silently as you could, stepping out and walking to the bathroom, which, admittedly, wasn't too far away. You opened the door to Killer collecting the clothes on the floor, throwing them in a plastic basket. "Morning", he greeted non-chalant.

You blinked. " Hey." "Don't even try, I guessed when Kid didn't show up in my room and I knew once I heard. The blood doesn't help either." You looked down. "What blood?" He gestured to your throat, which prompted you to look in the mirror, spotting the bloody handprint of his metallic hand. You don't remember when that happened. "I already cleaned the bathroom. If you want to, you can have your stuff back, but it is full of blood." You hummed. "No thanks, I'll stick to this one. You don't suppose you have a bra or something?" "You can ask Adission if she has a spare, but we don't." You groaned. "Anything against a headache? "Already in the kitchen, green bottle."

You sat down the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring the weird liquid inside into the mug. You yawned, when you sat down, surpressing a since at the uncomfortable feeling when you did. "Rough night?" "Yep." You and Heat and Adission drank your drink in silence after that, Wire joining you three later, Killer starting to make breakfast. You yawned again, when Kid came in, the pain of the mark on your throat bareable but discomforting. He saw you, smiled, his best part only covered by his Boxershorts, and grabbed himself a piece of the bacon Killed was currently preparing, gobbling it down like a starved man, you remembered, parts of yesterday night flashing back.

He hadn't said "I love you" back, but by the way he picked you up, sitting you down on his lap and stealing parts of your drink, you didn't think he had to. It was clear for you, and it was clear for him and that was all that mattered.

Masterlist & Blog Information

Events

Spotify Wrapped OneShots

Fluff

Angst

Smut

Horror

～⁠>⁠`⁠)⁠～⁠～⁠～

X Reader

Marvel

Daredevil

Red Windows {Soulmate AU, Matt Murdock X Reader}

One Piece

Eustass Kid

(I don't) wish you the worst {AFAB Reader, Halloween, Haemotolagnia}

Nobody Like you {Kid X Chubby Reader, Pain comfort}

Young Gods {Kid X GN! Reader, Abuse, Manipulation, Mentioned Non-Con}

Peruh (Pell)

Engravings {Peruh X Reader, Tattoo fluff}

Hellsing Ultimate

Alexander Anderson

Return to me {AFAB Reader, Virgin Alexander}

Return to me {AMAB Reader, Virgin Alexander}

Overwatch

Moira O'Deorain

Egoist {Moira X Reader}

Call of Duty

John Price

Believe {Dad! John Price, verbal fight, absent father}

Red Windows - Matt Murdock X Reader (Soulmate AU)

Another Day writing your Soulmate thesis for work, nothing else. That's what you thought. When the Morning dawns and a Devil ends up in your apartment, the same song stuck in both of your heads - what could go wrong? When your Soulmate ends up being a vigilante, the answer is easy to find: everything.

Set in a world, where even after Electra's Death and Daredevils partial hearing loss, Nelson & Murdock & Page are still together and never departed. This is partially due to my own stupidity and confusing the lore, but also simply because of I love the plotline but goddamn, I just want them to stay together.

Proof Read? Yeah, no.

Warnings: None. This does say Matt Murdock X Reader,can however also be seen in a platonic way. Also, maybe like Part 1? Idk, not sure tbf. Hate the ending, but here goes nothing. No use of Y/N or any placeholder

Soulmates. A thing everyone was talking about, sometimes singing so their Soulmate could hear it. Talking to someone else, one didn't know, someone far away, somewhere on this world. Or universe you guessed, considering the recent outing of a bunch of aliens, gods and more. Someone had to be their Soulmate, you guessed.

A lot of people thought Soulmates meant something romantic and were disappointed whenever they found out it was usually a platonic relationship. You should know. After all, you were studying philosophy with a focus on Soulmates. It was a topic that had interested you for a long time now and the older you had gotten, the more you had been fascinated by the mechanics of Soulmates and what the existence of these even implied. You would have preferred to go into the science field of things, however, since progress has been stagnating it was cut out of a lot of universities. So philosophy it was.

You had turned 29 a while ago, yet, had never heard your soulmate sing. Maybe whoever it was just wasn't that into it? Sometimes you sang a little tune to them, to this day to no avail. You were currently working on a thesis about Soulmates and the indications of the inevitability of future and choices and consequences, barely being able to write down all the rapidly passing thoughts on your sheet, when your best friend barged in. "It's Break Time for you and for me. Pack your things. We have an hour and I will not stand being in this office building for longer than five more minutes!"

You laughed slightly, grabbing your stuff and leaving the building right after them. They didn't wait until they started rambling to you, but you were content to listen. "So I met this girl yesterday, she was like, really cute. Short hair, ripped jeans, a flannel? Undeniably incredible taste in fashion. Also, the way she verbally decimated those guys? Absolute slay. The Guys were like trying to hit on a girl or something and wouldn't leave her alone, a real shame to be honest. She was really cute, asked her out." You smiled "That's nice, what did she say?" "That she already has a girlfriend. God, why must all the good Partners always be taken? It's so unfair!" You smiled lightly "Wouldn't know about it" Your friend gasped. "Exactly! I can't understand it, how no one sees you and wants to go out with you! Like, none of the good ones that is. I would totally try." You laughed. "Oh I would as well" "Dating yourself?" You looked at her "not my point, but totally yes."

The Break was over faster than you expected, but the work even longer. You sighed, when you looked at the clock, finally being allowed to get off. You closed your Laptop and said goodbye to the man behind the counter, who had just arrived and wished him a good and peaceful workday. Hell's Kitchen hasn't been the same for a while now, after Daredevil disappeared, the crime rate skyrocketed again, and a lot more Mutants were involved in it as well. You guessed because they didn't feel like they fit in, you couldn't blame them. The glass doors swung close behind you, the cool air of the evening of approaching fall nearly sending shivers down your spine, only nearly though. You fished out you phone and earphones out of your pocket, plugging them in and putting only one on. It was way too dangerous to walk around nearly deaf. You resumed the playlist you were listening, enjoying the song that came next, one of your all time favourites.

Take me to a light show before we go

Chemicals inside us line our bones

Your steps echoed through the street, the dark orange sky darkening slowly but surely fading into blue. The Bus station wasn't far away, and since your workplace didn't provide you with a parking spot, you took the bus. It roughly took the same time anyways.

Everybody's wasted, on their phones

Digits on the dancefloor, then our clothes

Next to the bus station there was a bakery, which you went to all the time while waiting for your bus. It wouldn't arrive for another 15 minutes, plenty enough time to buy yourself whatever you wanted. You usually opted for the same, but sometimes you felt like switching it up, like today. You asked for your order, waiting for the kind cashier to pack it.

Even if it blinds us

I'm reaching for the light within the fever

I'm reaching for your hand

You payed the cashier, taking your order and going back to the bus station.

The space between our fingers

Sparks, I feel them linger on

The bus arrived and after scanning your monthly ticket you sat down, thanking your work for not letting you get off in the middle of rush hour. The drive was quiet and you arrived home safely, deciding to get out of your work clothes and make yourself comfortable. You relaxed a bit, before deciding to head to bed, humming the melody of the song stuck in your head.

Next time let it go

Break my skin, Red Windows

So I'll know

.................…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

It wasn't morning when you woke up, and it wasn't your alarm that woke you. The crashing of a window, heavy breathing and pained groans. Despite yourself, you stood up after you heard another crash - glass, maybe your table or a glass you just hadn't put in your dishwasher yet. You armed yourself with the first thing you could find - a belt - and stalked to your living room. The man had stopped trashing around, leaning heavily on a counter, shattered glass on the floor. He was still panting, but definitely trying to hide it. It was Daredevil. Daredevil stood in your apartment. Sure. yeah. Just a normal Tuesday Night. Not to mentioned he was supposedly gone.

You didn't know what came over you, but the only thing your brain was able to scamper together was a breathy "Hi" to the Vigilante. A pained smile graced his features "Hey." You stood there for a second, before remembering that he was leaning on a counter, just shattered a glass and was probably in a lot of pain. "Oh my god, wait, let me-" You vanished to get the Frist aid kit from the bathroom, returning to him in a matter of two minutes. You never thought you'd really have to use it, you didn't really expect a crime fighting Devil to appear injured in your living room. You hadn't seen any blood in the darkness, but you were sure to turn the lights on to take care of the man.

"Alright, just sit in the couch and I'll prepare... I don't know, what do you have? Bulletwounds? Were you stabbed, slashed?" The man laughed slightly but didn't move an inch. "Do you even know how to treat wounds?" "No, but that doesn't mean you can't guide me, you must me very well versed in this field." He still didn't move. "You gonna come over here?" He hesitated but pushed himself off the counter and waddled towards you, totally not noticing the couch and swaying harshly against it. He cursed under his breath and felt along the backside until he found the seating part. "Damn, you must be really out of it, not seeing the couch like that." He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, rough night" "Did you get hit in the head?" "No" Phew, thank god. One least thing to worry about. "Okay, could you like, get rid of the suit?" "Want to see a Vigilante naked so you can give it to the press?", He joked, you laughed. "No, but maybe I want to be able to keep a secret just for myself"

He got rid of the suit, wearing a thin black shirt and pants underneath, they reminded you of those that ice-skaters wore while training sometimes. His left leg was soaked, and not in sweat or water - in blood. You bunched the thin Leggings over the injury and came face to face with a red leg and a white structure, that looked way too much like a bone to be anything else, exiting his skin. "Fuck." "Yeah" "You walked with that?" "I did more with that then walk." "And you're human? Not just Thor in disguise or something?" "Pretty sur einem, yes" "That's wild. Okay, anything else?" I got shot and stabbed in the side, don't know how they got through the suit." "Alright, alright. Yeah, sure, we can.. we can work something out. I think" He laughed again, a charming laugh, you noted. "What do I do?" "Is the bullet still inside?" You pulled him forward from his leaning position, pulling up his shirt and seeing a matching hole in the back. "No" "Okay, that's good. Now you'll have to-"

You got more comfortable with him guiding you, knowing and feeling that he knew what he was doing. Sometimes he needed to help you a bit and in the end, you were done and he was still lying on your couch, his pantleg was still bunched up and his shirt was off - it had just been easier than him needing to hold it up while also guiding and helping you. While he was putting his shirt back on and sipping on some water you had brought him, you were already cleaning up the mess. You couldn't help yourself humming that song, calming yourself down why you did so, passing by Daredevil to clean the table and floor, the couch was something to worry about later. You weren't gonna throw an injured man off of your couch just to clean his blood. "My Soulmate sings that song all the time." You looked up from the puddle of blood, mixed with water and bleach you were scrubbing at and observed the man. He had a small smile on the lips that were visible. "Your Soulmate?" He nodded "Yes, she keeps singing this song, always at the same time on weekdays. I guess she gets off of work then." "Why are you telling me this? I could use this against you." "Doubt it. You would've called an ambulance or police if you would go against me" "Maybe I'm building trust to betray you."

"Why do you want me to distrust you so badly?" You stayed silent. "It's not about me", you started after a while, "it's about you. You need to be careful. Not all are as friendly as I am" "That, I only know too well." Silence. "My Soulmate doesn't sing. Never." "Never?" "No. Not even humming. Or jingles, absolutely nothing. I heard him once, back a few years ago. He was drunk, singing something very badly. He was practically screaming." "That must have been exhausting." "It wasn't. I was absolutely ecstatic. I had heard him for the first and only time that night, while he hears me on a daily basis. Sometimes I wonder if I am bothering him, because he doesn't sing at all, or if he died. I just hope he is a good man." "I am sure he is." Before Silence could settle in again, you spoke up "When your Soulmate sings Red Windows a lot, it shouldn't be hard to find them. Only round about 200 people listened to the original on YouTube, where it came from. 200 people in the entire world, shouldn't be hard to find. Not only that, but some of these probably don't even like the song." "Could you play it for me?" You were startled. "What?" "I couldn't find the song. Could you play it for me?" "Uhh" you stood up, washed your hands thoroughly with soap and got your Phone. "Sure." You typed in the name of the song, letting it play and setting the phone down on a clean surface.

In Time let it show

Feel that scarlet Undertow

As it flows

You hummed with the song, swaying a bit to the beat and going back to cleaning. The stranger on your couch watched you.

Even if our bodies start to burn

And our passion starts to turn

I don't want our night, the night, tonight to end

So

Daredevil shifted on the couch, getting up while mainly using his uninjured leg and grabbing another cloth to help you clean the blood, sitting on the floor instead of kneeling like you were.

Next time let it go,

Break my skin, Red Windows

To my soul

So I'll know.

He grabbed your wrist mid-cleaning. "You should go to bed. This is my mess, I'll clean it. You have work tomorrow, so you should definitely get enough sleep" "But you need to rest as well" "I've had worse, you should really go to sleep. I will sleep in a bit as well." "You can stay as long as you need to. And you need to rest. Leave the cleaning to me." "Of course."

After waking up, you understood that that was a stupid request from you, seeing that he cleared the shattered glass, and that every surface was clean - the Couch still had some stains but it was mostly clean. There was breakfast on the table and a man, back turned to you, helmet off, sitting and eating. "Good Morning. I see you didn't rest like I told you." "And you did" He didn't turn his head and you didn't look at his face, when he pulled his mask over his head again, hiding his black hair. "Don't you have work to attend as well?" "I.. I do." "Then you should take a cab to work and get a coworker or friend to help you." You sat down and started to eat - scrambled egg with bacon pieces mixed together with some herb you had lying around. You didn't know what it was, your mother had brought it over when you had moved - but he seemed to know. "Shame about your window" You looked at the pieces of cloth and wood (where did he get that stuff from anyways?) covering the busted window. "Yeah, that's not gonna sit well with my wallet, I'm afraid. A shame, indeed" After the Breakfast was finished, and he was back in his superhero suit, he looked back, before walking out the fire escape. "Go to a Lawyer named Matt Murdock, he will help you" "Don't think I have money, big guy" "He doesn't take money. He takes whatever you are willing to give"

And just like that, you sat at work, sitting over a half-finished sentence in your thesis and pondering about this being a dream. The Fact you had been so unfazed probably was a sign of - no. You didn't believe you'd think his, and that this was the reason that convinced you, that it had all happened. You don't even remember what you did with the belt you were holding, it seemed like a big blurr, the moment you had seen him. You clearly remembered patching him up and all that, but God damn did you want to tell someone. And tell someone you did. Your new lawyer for a case that wasn't even a case. You didn't even know why exactly you looked him up and called him, but oh well.

"Matt Murdock, Attorney at Law. What is the reason for your call?" You gave him your name, hesitating before continuing. "This may sound weird, but Daredevil crashed into my window yesterday evening and told me to call you to get that situation sorted out." The Lawyer chuckled. A familiar voice, a familiar chuckle, you realised. It was slightly different, but you couldn't shake the feeling as if you were talking to Daredevil again. Stupid Vigilante crashing into your window and your mind. You desired emotional compensation, even though he had no negative effect on you. The Lawyer chuckling was having a lot more negative impact on your mood. Of course he wouldn't take you seriously. "Do you happen to have insurance?" You nodded, then sighed, remembering you were on the phone. "Yes, but I don't think it covers crashed window because of a Vigilante type of Damage" Another laugh "Come in with your contract and I'll see what I can do" "What about Payment?" "You don't need to pay me, if you have no money. I am only here to help" Damn. So it really was whatever you were ready to give, sure.

Since a Memory is locked in tight

Even in our dreams we'd never find

Any hidden Details, not one sign

Not even your dial tone, if not mine

Making your way to the lawyer's office, your trusty Google Maps as your guide, you silently sing the song to yourself. You took off one of your earphones when you reached the building,riding the elevator a few levels up to the designated one. There was a door with a metal tag on it. In bold, pretending letters it read Nelson & Murdock & Page. You knocked beside the tag.

But I heard it in surround sound

In a private space between that only we found

Like a feeling we can't shake

They are watching through the keyholes

Wishing they could be this close

When a blonde woman opened the door, you completely took off your headphones, stopping your music effectively. She seemed surprised. "Didn't think we'd get someone today, come on in!" You entered, slightly confused. "Uhm, I called earlier, and I was told to come in whenever I can in business hours." The Woman nodded. "Who did you speak with?" "I think it was uh... A man, Murdock, I think?" She lit up. "Ah, yes, let me just check with him really quick!" She disappeared in one of the doors, the one to the left, and reappeared a few second later. "Sorry I didn't think of you, I was on break so Matt took your call, if you could wait a minute, he will call you in." You thanked her and sat down on one of the free chairs.

You were singing under your breath, just loud enough for your ears only, when you heard you name being called by a very familiar voice, a man standing in the door that was previously unoccupied, a small, smug smile on his lips. You stood up, noticing his red tainted glasses. Unusual, you noted. "Good Day, Mister Murdock, thank you for seeing me" "I just want to help, come on in." You followed him into his office, noticing how he kept one of his hands on a surface at all times, making his way to sit at his table, a bunch of thick books laying in one corner, and - you noticed - Sheets of Paper with bumps on them. Braille. You sat down at the chair in front of the desk, while he set up a recorder. "Would it be alright if I record the conversation?" "Yes, of course." "Okay good. Then, let's start." He pressed play. "Please state your name and the reason you are here." You gave him your name again, before elaborating "Yesterday night or this morning, i didn't look at the clock, but I had already gone to bed, I was woken up by a crashing sound. I went to investigate and found the Vigilante Daredevil had crashed through my window, severely injured. I helped him and just before I went to bed he told me to call this office." "About your insurance?" "Yes." "Okay, do you happen to have the contract with you?" You affirmed once again. "What kind of contract?" "It's an Appartment I had to take because of my workplace, so it's an insurance contract with them, they pay for round-about normal insurance. Don't think those cover Superhero or Vigilante Damages"

You ended up reading the entire thing to him, not even understanding half of the stuff you were reading. He did though, obviously. You ended up staying well past opening hours, tomorrow was your free day so it was fine for you - and apparently also for the lawyer. Karen Page had left around half an hour ago, so you volunteered to find the kitchen and make some coffee and a small snack, while he worked through some of his Texts in Braille, saying something to the recorder from time to time to keep it on his mind. Quietly singing the song to yourself while searching in the small kitchen for the coffee beans.

Next time, let it go,

You found the coffe beans and put them in the grinder, positioning the first cup underneath and letting the coffee run.

Break my skin, Red Windows

After that one was done, you did the same with the second cup. Bringing the two cups back, you stopped singing under your breath right in front of the office. You opened the door with your elbow and sat down the two cups p, settling back into the chair.

"You really like that song" You didn't think he'd heard you, so you were slightly surprised. "Oh, sorry if I was too loud" Matt Murdock smiled "It doesn't really matter how loud you are, it's a good song, I've heard it on loop thelastfew days" Oh, so he already knew the song, weird coincidence, considering how unknown it was. "I have been too, it's a wonderful song." "Well, I didn't really have a choice, but definitely better than other songs I had to listen to." He didn't have a choice? "Has your Soulmate been singing it?" He didn't answer, instead sipping on his coffee, giving you a fairly cheeky smile and focusing back on his work. A few Minutes passed, when you heard him hum. You heard him hum twice.

One was in you head and the other was, well, right in front of you. You were baffled. "What?" He stopped, his eyes shielded behind the red glasses, still looking straight ahead. He gave a questioning hum. "Uh... Sorry, i just had a thought" "About us being Soulmates?" You faltered. "What? How did you know?" "Because I knew since you came in. He went to take of his red glasses, unfocused eyes looking in your direction, but feeling like they still looked past you. "I didn't want to rush, but I admit, it was a pleasant discovery." "Huh".

You eyes fell to the red tainted glasses, like Red Windows.

To my soul