#helps that the urges only occur during work hours so i get distracted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sluttywonwoo · 3 years

Text

high-rise || k.sy x reader

Summary: (ceo!au… ish) walking around your apartment naked has never been a problem, since you live in a high-rise and no one can see in, at least that’s what you thought…

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 9.1k

a/n: reworked this piece originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

additional warnings: mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, spanking, choking, degradation, sir kink if you squint

Your scarf was the first thing to hit the floor, followed shortly by your blazer. You toed off your heels as you simultaneously fumbled with the zipper on the back of your skirt, cursing when the fabric snagged the metal teeth. You were sweating with effort by the time you started rolling off your tights, making the task at hand that much more difficult. You kept your button-down on and kicked the rest of the clothes to the side, making a mental note to add them to the laundry later.

One of the (admittedly many) perks of living in a New York City penthouse was the view. Your apartment was ninety percent windows, which were a bitch to clean, but the sights you were privy to made it all worth it.

Manhattan was beautiful at any time of day, but you especially enjoyed it in the evenings. By the time you got home from work the late afternoon sun had begun to set, and you got to watch the soft pinks and oranges of the sunset fade into dusk. Rainy days and snowy days were up there on the list too. You were so high up that your apartment sometimes found itself submerged in the middle of a cloud. You could watch the rain fall onto the city below, or try to make out the horizon through the fog.

Even though your apartment was practically a glass box, being so high up offered you the luxury of privacy, which was why you usually didn’t bother with clothes. The only reason you were still wearing your shirt now was to shake off the chill from outside, but it would soon join the pile by the door.

You turned on the gas fireplace in the living room before making your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of the white wine you had opened earlier that week. It was a gift from a client, and not something you would have picked for yourself, but alcohol was alcohol and you wouldn’t dream of letting it go to waste.

You knew you should probably eat something before diving back into the paperwork you had brought home with you, but you were itching to get to it. You would never admit it, but your relationship with your job wasn’t the healthiest. All of your friends knew you were married to your work. Your colleagues and bosses knew it too. And deep down so did you. Maybe that’s why you hadn’t been on a date in... a while. It’s what you told yourself.

Even as you were perusing the options of takeout containers full of leftovers in your fridge you couldn’t stop thinking about the files waiting for you in your briefcase. You had to go over resumès and applications for an open position in your company to familiarize yourself with the candidates before you interviewed them in-person tomorrow.

Your fridge beeped at you, letting you know its door was still open as if you had walked away and forgotten to close it, unaware that you were still standing right in front of it.

“I know, I know,” you sighed and grabbed the styrofoam box of half-eaten sarme from your favorite Albanian restaurant down the street.

As the food warmed in the microwave, you gave in to the urge and retrieved your briefcase from by the door, discarding your shirt with your other clothes while you were over there.

You were just in your panties now, a thong if you were being specific. As much as you hated wearing them, they were the only underwear that wouldn’t show through your skirts and slacks.

You settled on the floor in front of the coffee table with your glass of wine and folder full of documents. The fire burned steadily as you flipped through them and made notes in the margins. Your cabbage rolls were lukewarm around the edges and cold in the middle, but still good nonetheless and you finished the rest. You had been hungrier than you thought.

“Mark Wescott... graduated from Georgetown University in 2013, nice! With a degree in... business admin... real fucking original,” you muttered to yourself, “but he’s got good references and decent experience... so... maybe?”

You uncapped the yellow highlighter in your hand with your teeth and ran it over his name and info at the top. You had a color-coded system for applicants. Pink for top priority, yellow for mid, and orange for low.

“None of these are impressive,” you decided after combing through all of the applications. You shook your head at the stack of papers and pushed them to the side. “Maybe they’ll be better in-person.”

You knew that wasn’t true, but it was getting late and you knew you should get at least a little bit of sleep before tomorrow. You had a lot riding on this hire, so you knew you needed to be coherent enough to sit through eight hours of interviews.

You brought your glass of wine to your lips and downed the last of it. “Here’s to hoping we’ll find the one.”

Soonyoung ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sigh. He was already overwhelmed just looking at the stacks of cardboard boxes in front of him, he couldn’t even think about unpacking them yet.

He needed to find the box with all of his suits, at the very least. He couldn’t roll up to his interview tomorrow in the gray sweats and t-shirt he was wearing now, not if he actually wanted the job.

Moving into his new place the day before an interview had been a good idea in theory. But as he grabbed the box cutter from the counter and started slicing open random boxes with no sense of direction Soonyoung was beginning to rethink his decision.

“Why didn’t I label any of these?” he muttered to himself, cursing at yet another box full of DVDs.

It didn’t help that everything was wrapped in newspaper and impossible to identify at first glance. He knew it helped protect things from breaking and shifting around during travel, but it was already making the task at hand twice as long. He had planned to route the walk from the subway station to the office that evening. He wanted to practice the commute and time it so that he wouldn’t be late in the morning, but as the sunlight began to dwindle from the room he knew he wouldn’t have time. He would just have to get up extra early tomorrow.

At least the new apartment was nice. His last job back in Seoul had set him up nicely to be able to afford a place in the heart of Manhattan. It was on the small side compared to what he was used to, but he didn’t need much space since it was just him living there.

Everything was up to date and all of the appliances were brand new. There was an in-unit washer and dryer tucked away in one of the closets, and the dining area had real exposed brick walls. Soonyoung didn’t know what those things meant, but his realtor had told him they were good.

The sun had set completely by the time Soonyoung finally found his suits. He’d had to plug in one of his table lamps and set it on the floor in the middle of searching just to be able to see what he was looking at.

He hung a few options up in his new closet, hoping some of the wrinkles would ease from the fabric overnight.

With that done, Soonyoung figured he might as well unpack some of the boxes he’d already opened. It wasn’t efficient work, seeing as he had neglected to label anything, but Soonyoung managed to put away some dishes, shoes, and miscellaneous sheets and towels before he finally checked the clock again and realized how late it was.

Most of the windows in the surrounding buildings had already gone dark for the night, except for those of the apartment directly across from his. It was in the only other high-rise that was as tall as his, making the illuminated unit at the top stick out even more.

It was then that Soonyoung realized he could see directly into the apartment. He smiled to himself, taking comfort in the fact that he wasn’t alone in being up at such a late hour. He wondered who his night-owl of a neighbor might be. His question was answered moments later when a shadow of movement caught his attention.

A woman who looked to be about his age emerged from a hallway carrying a stack of papers. He couldn’t make out the details of her face from where he was, but as she stepped into the light he could tell that she was naked.

Soonyoung immediately averted his gaze, snapping his head in the opposite direction so fast that he heard his neck crack. He gave it a second or two before looking back, assuming she was gone annnd nope. He squeezed his eyes shut a second time and turned his entire body away from the window. Now she was just... sitting in her living room? Completely naked? He wasn’t one to judge, but the knowledge alone was enough to make being a gentleman harder... amongst other things.

“Focus,” he told himself, resisting the urge to glance at the window. “Don’t be a creep.”

He attempted to resume his unpacking, only to find himself distracted every few minutes, sneaking glances at the window unconsciously. Every time he caught himself looking he was doused in a fresh wave of guilt. He knew it was wrong, but for whatever reason he couldn’t stop himself. The irony of being a peeping tom was not lost on him.

Soonyoung watched as the girl in the window stood from her spot on the floor and stretched, watched as her muscles tensed and relaxed when she raised her arms above her head. A mix of shame and arousal burned in his stomach as his eyes traced the outline of her curves.

All of the sudden it occurred to him that she could also probably see into his apartment. If she were to look over right now she’d see him standing like an idiot in the window practically gawking at her from fifty feet away. He panicked and lunged to turn off the lamp that was still sitting on the floor so that the whole room went dark.

That night as he lay in bed trying to fall asleep, Soonyoung thought about the stranger across the way. He wondered if there was a reason for her state of undress. If she had been waiting for someone, or if that someone had just left. Was that why she was up as late as he was? At least she was getting some. He wished he could say the same for himself.

“This is starting to get sad,” he mumbled and buried his face in his hands. ‘Starting to’ was being generous and he knew it.

He wished the morning would come, wished he was on his way to his job interview already, but every time he checked the time only a few minutes had gone by. He knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep anyway, at least if it was morning he’d be able to do something productive and get his mind off the girl in the window.

Soonyoung rolled over away from his bedroom window and pulled the blankets tighter around his shoulders. He could hear ambulance sirens and car horns from the street down below, the ambience of the traffic lulling the city to sleep.

Your morning started like any other. Your alarm went off at six-thirty and you snoozed it until seven, groaning when you finally dragged yourself out of bed. You turned on the shower and brewed a pot of coffee while you waited for the water to heat up.

You had been trying to get into tea recently, slowly working on cutting coffee out of your life completely and making the switch to the much healthier alternative. Tea had less caffeine and offered a whole range of health benefits that coffee didn’t. You’d read endless articles about how much better it was for you, but it wasn’t as coffee

The switch would be going a lot better if you didn’t let yourself make excuses to keep drinking coffee every morning. It would probably also be going a lot better if you weren’t guilt-chugging that cup (or two) of coffee before leaving your apartment six minutes earlier than usual to catch the 8:00 train instead of the 8:10 train just so you could grab a to-go cup of earl gray from the tea shop down the street from your office and drink that as you walked into work so that you could continue to keep up the charade that your tea-drinking endeavors were going well in front of your coworkers.

The glass was already foggy when you returned to take your shower. You wanted to be at the office early today to set up for the interviews so you tied up your hair and quickly rinsed off. The soapy water hadn’t even finished draining from the tile floor before you were out and wrapping yourself up in a towel.

You dried yourself off and dropped the towel in your hamper, not bothering with clothes yet. You walked back into the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee.

You sipped it as you turned on the stove and cracked an egg into a pan. You usually liked to have a bagel or a quick granola bar before work, but when you were feeling fancy you liked to make yourself a couple slices of avocado toast for breakfast. You had decided that today was a fancy day.

You popped the bread in the toaster as the eggs fried and sliced a ripe avocado in the meantime. As soon as you were done with that, it was time to flip the eggs and put the toast on a plate.

You finished your first cup of coffee and went to pour yourself a second, but thought better of it. You’d be sitting in one place for a majority of the day and too much caffeine would make you fidgety and anxious if you didn’t have a way to diffuse the energy.

You ate your breakfast at the bar in your kitchen, looking over the stack of resumes one last time as you did.

“Are you ready for today?” one of your supervisors, Carolina, asked as soon as she saw you walk in the door.

You took a sip of tea from the paper cup in your hand and grimaced. “I’ve been dreading it all week.”

“At least it’ll be over by tonight.”

“Sure, this round will be over, but then there’s still follow-up interviews and training and-”

“Whoa, whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is the worst part, and we’ve just got to take it one thing at a time.”

You sighed. “You’re right, sorry.”

Carolina smiled and nodded her head in the direction of the hall. “Conference Room B is all set up for you when you’re ready. Page me to let me know when I can send the candidates in.”

“Got it, thanks.”

You set yourself up with your laptop and paperwork at one end of the table, and left the seat across from you open for the interviewee.

The morning dragged by at an agonizingly slow pace. Each potential hire seemed determined to bore you to death with their graduate school anecdotes and corporate buzzwords. They were all the same. Too stiff, too self-absorbed, too-

“Y/n, we’ve got your next one ready for you.”

You cleared your throat before pressing the speak button on the intercom, having been lost in thought when Carolina’s voice began echoing throughout the room.

“Sounds good, you can send them over to me.”

You sat up a little straighter in your chair and brushed yourself off. You’d been interviewing for a couple hours straight already, but you still wanted to look fresh-faced for everyone who came in. You were representing the company, after all, and interviews were just as much about trying to impress the candidates as it was about them trying to impress you.

You reached for your cup of tea before remembering it had probably long since gone cold and grimaced, perking up when you heard the familiar squeak of the door.

The young man offered you his hand before settling in the chair opposite yours with a polite smile.

“Mr.... Kwon,” you said, reading his name off of his resume in front of you. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he agreed. “And you can call me Soonyoung.”

You quirked an eyebrow, but nodded. Straight past his last name and right to Soonyoung, interesting you mused to yourself as you scanned his profile again.

“Nice to meet you, Soonyoung. I’m y/n y/l/n. I’m a Senior Associate here and I’m just going to ask you a few questions about yourself, your work, typical interview stuff. Does that sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

You paused and pretended to organize the papers in front of you while you discreetly gave him a once-over, making mental notes to yourself. He wore a Rolex on his left wrist. That told you that his last job had paid well enough to be able to afford one- either that or his parents came from money. You had a lot of trust-fund kids wasting your time today, you hoped he wasn’t another. Your office already reeked of nepotism and you just wanted this new hire to be on your side of things.

He was rather handsome too. Smartly dressed, sharp jawline, hair that was just barely tamed by gel, warm brown eyes that crinkled up in the corners when he smiled- you had to remind yourself not to stare.

“Alright, Soonyoung, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” The question always tasted bitter when you asked it and it was hard not to cringe. It was the most basic question in the book, but it was a good way to get to know what kind of an employee someone was.

“Uh, well, I just moved here from Seoul. I got in yesterday afternoon and still have loads to unpack, but I’m hoping to adjust quick. I was an Executive Consultant for five years at my last firm, and had just been promoted to Executive Manager last spring.” He paused to think. “What else... I really love to golf on my days off, and if I’m not golfing I’m usually at home watching movies.”

“A lot of our clients like to golf,” you commented off-handedly. “Are you any good?”

Soonyoung shrugged, smiling humbly. “I’m decent. I haven’t had the chance to play for real in a while.”

“Why’s that?” you were aware you were moving away from interview territory, but you told yourself it was relevant enough to pursue.

“Most of my recent games were taking clients out to golf at my old firm. I had to play like shit on purpose so they’d win and we’d close a deal.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe they were just better than you?” you asked.

Soonyoung narrowed his eyes the tiniest bit, but kept a polite smile on his face. “Trust me, I had to try very hard to lose.”

“So you had a pretty successful closing rate?”

“About twenty-six percent.”

You tried to hide your surprise, nodding as if that was a completely normal closing rate for your company.

“May I ask why you moved?” you continued.

“I’ve lived in Seoul my entire life. I wanted a change of scenery, I suppose.”

“Moving across the globe without the security of a job? That seems like quite a big risk.”

He gave another shrug. “What’s life without a few risks?”

You nodded, writing what he’d said down on the yellow notepad in front of you. Soonyoung shifted in his seat, subtly craning his neck to see across the table at what you were jotting down.

“Moving on,” you said and flipped the notebook over abruptly. The slap of the movement startled Soonyoung momentarily and he only let the deer-in-the-headlights look cross his features for a second before recomposing himself. “Do you consider yourself to be a leader or a follower?”

“I’m a switch,” he answered easily, eyes only widening in realization once the sentence left his mouth. “I mean, I can switch. I was in a management position at my last job, but I still had plenty of superiors to answer to. I started at an entry level in that company and worked my way up, so I have experience with both.”

“And do you have any qualms with being a subordinate to a woman? I ask because if you’re offered the position I would be your boss.”

Soonyoung shook his head in response, giving a small, almost imperceptible smirk. “Like I said.”

The rest of the interview passed by smoothly, and you didn’t realize how much time had passed until you glanced up at the clock above the door. You straightened the stack of papers in front of you to indicate that you were wrapping things up and stood from your chair to shake Soonyoung’s hand again.

“To be completely candid, Mr. Kwon- Soonyoung, you are overqualified for this position. However, our company offers plenty of mobility and your starting salary would be almost equal to your previous one. If you’re interested, I’d like to set up a follow-up interview with you tomorrow.”

Soonyoung smiled, and there went the crinkles of his eyes again, softening the sharpness of his features and making him look a couple years younger. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”

“Great. On your way out you can schedule a time to meet with Carolina.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” he assured you. “Thank you again.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow?” you hoped the question didn’t sound too hopeful.

“See you tomorrow.”

You went home feeling a thousand times better than you had that morning. The rest of the interviews had been a blur, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Soonyoung. He surpassed all of the other candidates in almost every aspect, and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

You knew your attraction to him was a problem. You couldn’t hire someone just because you thought they were hot. It was insanely biased, and extremely inappropriate, yet you couldn’t shake the thought of him from your mind. You would be crossing every line in the existence of lines by sleeping with him- that was, if he even felt the same way about you. It would be an unethical use of power, and totally unprofessional so you resolved not to even think about him in that way. Because there was no way around it. He was the best candidate for the job and a perfect addition to your team. You couldn’t not hire him.

The route home usually took about half an hour, but you walked at a faster pace this time because you were supposed to have dinner with a colleague at your apartment and you needed time to cook so there’d be food on the table when he got there.

You made it home in half the time, and kicked off your shoes by the door like you usually did, but kept your work clothes on.

To say you were unprepared for this dinner was an understatement. You barely had anything in your pantry and your cooking skills were subpar at best. Add the time crunch into the equation and it was a recipe for disaster. You could only throw a pot of water on the stove and crack open a jar of marinara sauce and hope for the best.

Soonyoung tried not to smile too wide as he walked out of the interview. He needed to remind himself that the job wasn’t his yet. He still had another interview to get through. Still, he figured a follow-up to be somewhat of a success and a good enough reason to treat himself to pizza.

By the time he made it back to his apartment it was almost dark out. His interview had been in the morning, but after walking two miles to get to the pizzeria he’d found on Yelp, getting on the wrong train twice and missing his stop, it was well into the afternoon. He was glad he’d ordered a whole pizza so he could have the leftovers for dinner, and wouldn’t have to venture out into the city again.

The cardboard boxes sprawled across his living room floor were an unwelcome sight, taunting him with their unlabeled contents, but he tried not to think about it. He deserved at least an hour of rest before he started unpacking again.

He pushed one of the heavier ones into the center of the room to use as a table and set the pizza box on top of it. After changing back into a t-shirt and sweats he settled on the floor with a grunt, twisting the cap off a bottle of beer with the hem of his shirt. He took a sip and let the bubbles soothe his throat.

He stared off out the window, attention snapping to the apartment across from his. Soonyoung realized he hadn’t thought about the girl in the window all day, and silently patted himself on the back for it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to live with, and he wouldn’t have to spiral into a pattern of self-loathing every time he found himself looking. As long as he kept himself in check.

He let himself look for a little longer, promising himself that he would look away if he saw anything he wasn’t supposed to. The lights were on, like they had been last night, but he didn’t see the woman. He scanned the array of windows until he saw her sitting at the kitchen table. She wasn’t alone tonight. There was another person at the table with her, a man.

Soonyoung bit his lip and tried to ignore the way his heart sank. He didn’t even know this person, didn’t even know what her face looked like and here he was getting jealous of another person he didn’t know.

He tore his gaze away from the window and stared down at the floor.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself and took another bite of his pizza even though he had lost his appetite.

People had crushes on strangers all the time. His would fade and soon he wouldn’t even be thinking of whoever it was in that apartment across the way. And if things went well with tomorrow’s interview, he had you. He hadn’t expected to be interviewed by someone his age, let alone someone as pretty as you. It had caught him off guard in the best way possible, and he found himself hanging onto every word you said.

But he wouldn’t be able to act on his feelings with you either, because if he was hired you would be his boss. And it would be completely inappropriate to harbor feelings like that for a colleague. He’d only lived here for a day. He would meet someone eventually. He just needed to give it time.

Joshua Hong wasn’t in town for long. He never was. You wondered why he bothered flying all the way to New York for a few conferences when he could just join them online, but he insisted that having face-to-face interactions were important for interpersonal connections and relationship building and so on.

Secretly, you believed the real reason to be that he missed you and your colleagues on the east coast and used business as an excuse to see you. He had lived in New York for a few years before moving to the LA division of your company. The shift in the dynamic of your team had taken a toll, and it took you months to forgive him for leaving. The first few times he came back to visit were nearly impossible to endure. Everyone was happy to see him, but you. You faked a smile and played along, but your relationship had never fully recovered.

Maybe it was because you’d always had a little crush on him, or because no one was there to take his place, leaving your team dividing his workload amongst yourselves with no additional compensation. The position you were currently hiring for actually used to be Joshua’s. It had taken nine months to convince the CEO to finally fill it, and he only agreed after one of your coworkers threatened to sue over breach of contract.

Even though you were certain that you and Joshua would never be as close as you had once been again, he still had you wrapped around his finger in some ways because you could never say no to him. When he’d asked to have dinner with you under the guise of work, you’d agreed on instinct, not considering how tired you would be or how strenuous it would be to see him again.

“This is really good,” Joshua complimented, twirling spaghetti around on his fork.

“You’re just saying that,” you countered and rolled your eyes as you sipped your wine.

“I’m not!”

“Please, I know LA has ruined you and turned you into a food snob. I watch your Instagram stories.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t love a good classic.”

“You and I both know this marinara is from a jar.”

He chuckled. “So? That doesn’t change the fact that it’s good.”

“Whatever.”

Joshua gave you an amused smile from across the table and placed his fork back down on his plate. “So I hear they’re finally replacing me?”

You nodded. “They are. ‘They’ being me.”

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Anyone promising?”

“There’s this guy, Soonyoung, who might fit.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s Korean, actually just moved here. He’s pretty charismatic too, but not in a sleazy salesman way. Kind of like you.”

“Is he better than me?” Joshua pressed, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“You know there’s no way to tell that yet,” you chided. “But he shows promise.”

“Let me see his profile.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, but you don’t have the clearance to see it.”

Joshua’s eyes widened like he couldn’t believe you were saying no to him, probably because he rarely heard it from you. “What, do we work in a government agency all of the sudden?”

“I have a lot riding on this hire, Joshua. I can’t let anything screw it up.” He seemed to surrender at that, nodding in understanding. “Did you ask me to dinner just to grill me about the new guy?”

“No! I wanted to see you,” he paused, “and make sure that you wouldn’t forget about me when I was replaced.”

You sighed, giving him a tired, perhaps wistful look. “Trust me, I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”

Joshua left around eleven, after several glasses of wine and helping you with the dishes. As much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. But you needed to move on, in more ways than one.

You stripped as soon as you locked the door behind him and threw your work clothes into the laundry basket.

You were a little tipsy from the wine, but you still had work to do before you could go to sleep. There was paperwork to finalize, and you still had to draft a rejection email for all of the candidates who weren’t moving on in the interviewing process.

You grabbed your briefcase and returned to the kitchen table, rolling your neck as you realized you had another long night ahead of you.

Soonyoung wasn’t aware that he was staring until the man stood from his seat and took the dishes from the table to the sink. The sudden motion pulled him back to reality and reminded him that he was sitting alone in the dark once again. He cursed under his breath and chugged the rest of his beer.

His pizza had gone cold in the time he’d spent trying to determine the relationship between the man and the woman in the apartment across from his. He couldn’t tell what they were, and not being able to read their facial expressions made it even harder.

He watched as they washed dishes shoulder to shoulder, telling himself that it was no different from people watching, which was untrue since the people in question weren’t in public, but he ignored the guilt twisting in his stomach and continued to watch. At least no one was naked this time.

The woman’s shoulders moved up and down in laughter, suggesting the man had said something funny. But then she was walking him to the door and letting him out, and that was it. Show was over.

So they weren’t together. At least, not yet. Soonyoung hated himself for the conclusion he’d just drawn, and he hated himself even more for feeling relieved.

Soonyoung leaned back to reach the lamp that was still on the floor and flicked it on so that he could see. He shoved the leftover pizza into the back of his fridge and returned to the living room to try and get a little more unpacking done.

He started with one of the boxes he’d opened the day before when he had been in search of his suits, and began sorting through its contents. He allowed himself another glance at the window to check if the man had returned, only to see the woman completely naked. Again.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he groaned and forcefully turned his eyes to the floor. He needed to buy some curtains as soon as possible because there was no way he would be able to be a respectful neighbor otherwise.

He blinked the image of her silhouette from his mind, trying not to dwell on the thought of her sitting at her kitchen table with nothing between her thighs and the chair.

He couldn’t focus. Every time he tried to get back to the task at hand his thoughts went to her. It was getting pathetic.

One more look. One more and then never again.

It seemed like a simple enough resolution and he promised God he would go to confession at the end of the week- even though it had been years since he’d been to mass.

He gave in to his curiosity and gave the window one final, longing glance. The woman was still at the table, concentrating on something in front of her. But something else caught Soonyoung’s attention this time. It was a snakeskin briefcase that sat on the table next to her. He had only noticed it because of the gold details on the bag that reflected the light, just like the one you-

A thousand different emotions flooded Soonyoung’s senses as the realization set in. It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head. There was no way-

It had to be a coincidence. Had to be. Two people could have the same briefcase... and the same body... and the same hair. As he thought back to his interview earlier that day he saw more and more similarities between you and the girl in the window.

He definitely needed to go to confession now. Not only had he been staring in the window of some naked woman, the woman might just be his future boss.

He felt sick, and despite it all he felt the familiar burn of arousal flicker to life in his stomach. There was no way he’d be getting any sleep tonight.

Soonyoung seemed different. Yesterday he had been confident, charming, and on top of every question you threw at him. Today, he seemed nervous. He was fidgety and distracted. He wouldn’t even make eye contact with you. He kept his gaze trained on your briefcase instead, refusing to take his eyes off of it.

You had been so sure that he was the one, but now you were thinking you might have to start from scratch.

“Soonyoung, are you okay?” you asked, your frustration turning into concern when he failed to answer your question for the third time. “Do you need me to repeat the question again?”

He looked up at you finally, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s okay.”

“No, I- I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I- fuck,” he paused to take a deep breath and shook his head. “I don’t know how to put this, but I think... we’re neighbors.”

“Oh, you live in my building?”

You didn’t see a problem with that. You weren’t sure why it was something he would be tearing himself up over either.

“No, I don’t.”

“So... then how would we be neighbors?”

He averted his gaze again and swallowed harshly. “I live in the high-rise across from yours.”

You raised your eyebrows in question, feeling your pulse jump in warning. Your fingers inched toward the phone, ready to call security at a moment’s notice.

“And fuck, I really wanted this job, but um, I only know that because my apartment is literally right across from yours. And you have a lot of windows... that I can see into.”

You let his words sink in, hand retreating from the phone. “Oh my god.”

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to look or anything, I promise. Your windows are just so big. I didn’t even want to come in today because I felt so bad about it, but I figured you should know that it was possible to see into your apartment. Like other people might also be able to see you too. I just came to tell you that because I don’t think I’d be able to live my life just knowing that information and not telling you.” Soonyoung stopped talking finally, giving you an opportunity to respond. The tips of his ears were red with embarrassment and he looked like he wanted to jump out the window.

You were covering your mouth with shock by now, absolutely mortified. “I am so sorry,” you yelped. “I had no idea, oh my god. I hope you don’t feel... violated or anything.”

“Oh, not at all,” he assured you. “I felt the opposite, actually- I mean, I hope you don’t feel violated.” He stood from his chair before you could say anything else. “Anyway, thank you for your time.”

Soonyoung kicked himself the whole way to the subway station. That job had been the best opportunity he had at breaking into the industry here in New York and he’d fucked it. He could’ve kept his big mouth shut and pretended like everything was normal- but just the thought of that made bile rise in the back of his throat.

No, he was glad he had been honest. It just sucked that he’d lost such a good position, and ruined whatever nonexistent chance he had with you.

When he got home he threw all of his energy into unpacking. He was determined to make a real dent in the pile of boxes this time, and then maybe afterward fill out some job applications.

His apartment was actually starting to look livable by the time he took a break to eat leftover pizza for dinner. He’d unwrapped the plastic covering and bubble wrap from his couch so that he actually had a place to sit now, and he’d found a standing lamp to replace the table lamp sitting on the floor.

He was about to move on to a box full of clothes when he risked taking a look over at your apartment. To his surprise, you were standing in your living room, wearing nothing but a bra and panties. He furrowed his eyes in confusion, wondering why you were still choosing to walk around your apartment undressed with the knowledge that he could see you. But before he could look away his phone started buzzing in his pocket. It was an unsaved number, but he suddenly had the feeling he knew who it was.

“Hello?”

“Soonyoung?”

He recognized the voice immediately, and snapped his attention back over to the windows where he could see you looking back this time, phone pressed to your ear.

“Y/n.” He realized he had never called you by your first name before, and hoped you weren’t offended by it.

“The job’s yours if you want it.”

He blinked, staring right at you. “What?”

“The position. It’s yours if you want it. You were the best candidate by far and I think you’d make a great addition to the team.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am.” He heard you take a breath before continuing. “You have time to think it over, of course. Let me know by the weekend.”

“I don’t need time to think,” he heard himself say.

“No?”

“No. I’ll take it.” “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Soonyoung?” you asked, reaching behind you and unclipping your bra. You caught the fabric and pressed it against your chest so that it wouldn’t slip down.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me if I’m overstepping.”

“You’re not overstepping,” he breathed, hand already traveling down to the waistband of his shorts.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He watched with a slack jaw as you let the bra fall to the floor. You moved to the couch and draped yourself over it, opening your legs to give him a view of your whole body, from your pussy up to your neck. He pulled off his shirt and shimmied out of his shorts quickly so that you were on an even playing field. It was still uneven in his opinion. You were so beautiful, he felt inadequate in comparison. But the moan you let out upon seeing him shirtless boosted his ego the tiniest bit.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured quietly into the phone.

“I don’t want to stop,” Soonyoung admitted.

“Me either.”

His breath caught in his throat as you pulled your panties down and let them join your bra on the floor. He was too far away to see anything in detail, but he could imagine. You brought a hand down in between your legs, spreading your wetness around with your fingers.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

He was hard. He was so hard that it was starting to hurt, and all he could think about was running his cock through your folds. Being the one to make your back arch off the couch like it was now.

He spat into his palm and began working his hand up and down his cock, sighing in relief.

“You sound so pretty,” you echoed, and Soonyoung straight up whimpered in response. He felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “God, I wish I had your fingers instead of mine. They’re so much longer.”

“Guess you’ll just have to imagine them,” Soonyoung said, finding his voice out of nowhere. It was your turn to whimper. “Picture them working you open, stretching you for my cock.”

“Soonyoung?” you asked hoarsely.

“Yeah?”

“Come over.”

“Fuck, right now?”

“Yes right now. I need you,” you whined. “Fiftieth floor, the door code is 0716.”

He heard the phone click as you hung up and that was all it took. He scrambled for his pants and shirt that he’d thrown somewhere in the room, tripping when he tried to jump into both legs of his shorts at the same time. He rushed out into the hallway and pressed the down button on the elevator repeatedly, like it would make it come any faster.

He tried to act like he wasn’t out of breath and held his hands together in front of his crotch in an attempt to hide his erection. The other people on the elevator ignored him, only addressing him to ask which floor he was going to.

Soonyoung swore he’d never run so fast in his entire life. He dodged taxis, bikers, and pedestrians as he crossed the street illegally and made it to the elevator of your building right before the doors shut.

You had put on a sheer robe while you waited for Soonyoung, not wanting to open the door completely naked, but you were beginning to have second thoughts. You were officially Soonyoung’s boss now, which meant that having sex with him was at the very top of the list of things you shouldn’t do. It would no doubt be considered a gross misuse of power, and to make matters worse he had literally just been hired. His first experience with you shouldn’t be in bed-

You heard the lock click and turned around to see Soonyoung standing in your doorway. He was breathing hard and practically dripping with sweat. All doubts about crossing the line vanished when you looked into his eyes and saw how dark they were. He hadn’t even said anything, yet you knew how much he wanted you.

Even more evident was the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his sweat shorts. You tried not to stare, but you figured it was only fair, given how he was staring at you.

Soonyoung let the door shut behind him before approaching you. His hands trembled as he brought them up to your shoulders, like he was unsure of where to start. He slipped his thumbs under the hem of your robe finally and you shivered at the contact. You bit your lip and nodded at him to keep going.

He pulled the fabric down off your shoulders and let the robe pool at your feet. You looked down at it and then back up at him expectantly. He took the cue to follow and yanked his shirt off over his head, followed by his shorts so that he was in his underwear.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. His voice sounded an octave lower than it had been over the phone and it made your knees weak.

“Please,” you choked out.

He placed one hand on your cheek and tilted your head to the side, pressing his lips to yours. It was needy and desperate, strung with promises of what was to follow. His peppermint chapstick made your lips tingle and you leaned in, deepening the kiss. His fingers dug into your waist as he took control, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Soonyoung’s hands made their way down to your ass and squeezed, making you yelp in surprise. He chuckled against your mouth and broke away from the kiss.

“Should we move this to my bedroom?” you asked, breathless.

Soonyoung shook his head. “I want to take you here.”

“Where?”

“Here,” he repeated and nodded toward the windows.

“O-okay,” you agreed, a little unsure on the mechanics of how it would work. But Soonyoung seemed confident, beckoning you over with a wave of his hand.

“C’mere,” he said. “I know you said you wanted my fingers, but I’m dying for a taste of you,” he admitted. “Is that okay?”

You nodded desperately as you watched Soonyoung sink to his knees in front of you. He pushed his hair back with his hand and used the other to hike your leg up over his shoulder. You felt his breath on your clit before anything else, felt the way he was hovering inches in front of your cunt like a goddamn tease.

“Soonyoung, please,” you begged.

You jolted when he suddenly buried his face in between your thighs, letting out a strangled moan as his tongue circled your clit. It was all too much and you had to pull on his hair to maintain your balance. Soonyoung didn’t seem to mind too much, in fact it only spurred him on as he moved even further down and began to tongue fuck you.

His nose bumped against your clit as he worked his tongue in and out of you and it was all you could do not to black out from the pleasure. You braced yourself against the window with one hand, trying to hold off the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach.

“Soonyoung, wait,” you cried and tugged him away from your pussy by his hair.

He jutted his lip out in a pout and frowned like he was disappointed he hadn’t gotten to finish you off. His chin was glistening in your arousal and his lips were pink and swollen from sucking on your clit.

“I want you inside of me,” you pleaded. “Please, Soonyoung?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rose from his knees, smirking as he took the advantage of height back.

“Of course, angel,” he said, pulling you closer so that he could kiss you again. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue, ignoring the way he laughed at your neediness. “Turn around for me, love,” he instructed as he pushed his boxers down. “Hands on the window.”

You did as you were told and bent over. Soonyoung’s hand made contact with your ass just once, the harsh smack echoing throughout the room. You cried out, body shaking even when he ran a hand over the mark to soothe it.

He took his time lining himself up with you, wanting to tease you as much as possible before he finally gave you what you wanted. You tried pushing yourself back against him, but he was having none of it and put you back in your place every time.

“I didn’t take you for a brat,” he mused.

“I didn’t take you for a tease,” you bit back through gritted teeth.

“Yes you did.”

“Fine, but I didn’t take you for someone who was all talk and no follow-through.”

That seemed to work because Soonyoung pushed himself inside you as soon as the sentence left your mouth. You lurched forward, hands on the window slipping as you cursed him out.

“What were you saying?” he taunted, running a hand down your exposed back.

“N-nothing!”

“That’s what I thought.”

He gave you a few moments to adjust to his size, but you were too impatient to wait and began fucking yourself on his cock, desperate for the release that had built up when he was going down on you. Soonyoung brought his hand down against your ass again and stilled your hips.

“Did I say you could move?” he demanded. “Answer me.”

“No!”

“Then why did you?”

“I’m sorry!” you cried.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Your cock-” you choked out, “felt so good. I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, darling. You’re going to be a good girl for me now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

He seemed satisfied with your answer and thrust into you once, then again, slowly building up to a steady rhythm.

For a moment or two all that could be heard was the slapping of skin and your shaky gasps. Soonyoung’s cock was bigger than you expected, and each time he hit your g-spot you couldn’t help but let your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure.

You weren’t even trying to hold back your moans at this point, too fucked out to care. Soonyoung let a hand wrap around the front of your body and travel up to your throat. He rubbed his thumb along your jaw, pressing it against your lips for you to suck on.

You took it into your mouth eagerly, letting him push it further and further until you were practically gagging on it. When he was satisfied with your work he took his finger out of your mouth and wrapped the same hand around your throat, squeezing lightly.

“Fuck,” you whined.

“Are you close?” Soonyoung asked, likely because he was also teetering on the edge.

“Yes, so close.”

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” he pressed, tightening his grip on your neck. “Think anyone watching you get fucked like a slut against the window deserves to see you cum?”

“No one can see me,” you insisted. “It was only you.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t,” you admitted, feeling like the invisible string inside of you would snap at any second.

“You could have a whole audience and not even know it, y/n. What do you think, should we give them a show?”

All you could do was nod as he continued to pound into you from behind, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Soonyoung, please let me cum I can’t hold it-” you gasped as you tipped over the edge before he could respond, clenching around his cock harder than you knew you were capable of. It felt as if you were falling from the window of your apartment, hurtling toward the ground some fifty stories below.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” Soonyoung muttered, his hips faltering.

“Cum inside me, please cum inside me,” you begged. “I’m on the pill you can cum inside me.”

He came with a groan of your name, pumping his cum further into you with every thrust. “So fucking tight,” he sighed as he continued to lazily rock his hips into yours. “Is your poor cunt so sensitive now?” he asked, voice dripping with fake sympathy.

“Yes,” you answered quietly, feeling tears prick in the corners of your eyes at the overstimulation.

Soonyoung pulled out of you finally, making you whimper at the empty feeling. He chuckled and helped you stand up straight, ready to catch you if your legs gave out.

“That’s what you get for cumming without permission,” he said.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled, eyes only half open. “I’m your boss. You should let me cum whenever I want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Soonyoung assured you.

You watched as he picked up his clothes from around your living room and wondered if you had just ruined everything. Once he was dressed he made his way back over to you and kissed you chastely on the lips. The kiss didn’t help you relax at all. It only confused your feelings for him even more.

“See you monday?” you asked hopefully. If nothing else, you hoped he would still accept the position for the sake of your team, even if things between you were awkward and he never wanted to sleep with you again-

“See you monday,” he repeated in confirmation. “And next round’s at my place.”

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kimetsu-no-imagines · 3 years

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submission request

its ur bf write me rengoku porn rn before i kiss you in electrical- u know what i want 😩 ——————————————————————————- a/n : !!!!!! anything for u babe!!!!! a request from my bf,,,,,,,how special,,,,especially when haven’t written on here in forever,,,,,, warnings ; mugen train spoilers!!!!!!!!!! s o m a n y!!!!!! mentions of rengoku/akaza fight, alternate universe where rengoku lives it’s what we all want anyway, pre-established relationship/rengoku is your husband, breeding/pregnancy kink, rengoku living and dying (figuratively) between your legs, “dirty” talk but rengoku is such a loving man i don’t think it should even be called that here, uhhhh body worship but with his eyes? its very vague but it is there, boy just loves you okay, also none of this is proof read or anything if that matters word count ; 2,728

I’m Home

When you first hear about it, of course, like his fellow pillars, you’re terrified-thankful, naturally, that your husband at least hasn’t died, but the crow sent to inform you of the events of his mission, of his injuries, doesn’t exactly try to sugar coat anything, not even for you, his spouse.

Skull fractures from dodging the punch that would have smashed his eye completely, broken ribs from dodging yet another hit that, if he hadn’t moved back fast enough, would have gone through him and killed him-the details were gruesome, they were bone-chilling, it wasn’t as if you or anyone particularly enjoyed hearing about it, but one thing was for certain-you were relieved not to have lost him to this, to have lost anyone. Tanjiro and the others were so strong, so hard-working, and they were so young, with so much to live for-you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if anything had happened to them, either.

There’s so much about it that pains you-not being able to have your husband home with you after he’d already been so busy with this mission and the ones before it, knowing how injured he was and how long it’d take him to recover at the Butterfly Estate, it was all… Torture. Not that you couldn’t go see him, of course-but Shinobu urged you to stay home and relax, you wouldn’t want to see him in the state that he was in, she promised you that much. Her crow did come by to personally update you on his condition every day or so, though-that was at least some amount of relief.

… Or, it would have been. You hadn’t seen any crow come by in a week or so, to the day-and yes, you kept track, because of course you did, you were an anxious wreck, and it’d already been months of your husband steadily recovering, or so you thought. Had he died from his injuries? Did something happen to the estate, were more people hurt? … Well. You supposed that was a silly thought, she lived so close to the Master’s own residence-no demon could get close enough to hurt them, with all the wisteria around both places.

You were so used to having your husband around to calm you when you thought about the worst things, like this-your heart hurt with anxiety and worry. What could you do but stand outside by the door, every day, for hours, just waiting for some sign, of a crow, of Shinobu herself, of anything?

It was another day that had gone by just like that-your feet and legs ached from keeping yourself up for so long, dried tear trails staining the sides of your face-you knew it was silly of you, you knew you should have tried to be at least a little stronger, for him if no one else, but… You just couldn’t help it. You hated this. You just wanted your husband back.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you watch the sun set for just one more moment before turning to go back inside, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes again-maybe tomorrow you’ll go up to Shinobu’s estate yourself. You couldn’t stand this for another–

“Hahaha! Now isn’t this strange! You’re running away from me!”

Your heart stops, and you freeze in place. What?

You feel him before you can turn to see him-chest pressed against your back, though soon you’re spun around and pulled up into a crushing hug anyway, and it’s all you can do to immediately start sobbing into your husband’s brightly-colored hair as you’re held.

“… Hello, my sweet,” His voice is no longer booming and jovial like it was a moment ago, but soft, gentle and meant only for you, as he squeezes you to him-you want to worry about the injuries he was supposed to be recovering from still, but you don’t want this to end, either. You suppose, he must have just been coming around the corner and through the gate when you turned to go inside-not that it mattered, all that did matter was that he was… Here, holding you.

“You must have missed me terribly!” All hearty, he laughs with you again, even if all you can do is cry in his arms while he rubs soothingly at your back, “But of course I missed you terribly too! I tried many times to sneak out and come home to you, but Shinobu or one of the other girls always caught me-”

You missed his voice dearly, you did-and you were still crying, but you couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. It was something you usually did to quiet him, for sure, but right now you just… Needed him. And he didn’t seem to mind, hands happily and readily sliding down to hoist you up into his arms, never breaking from you as he carried you into your home.

“… Such a beautiful shouldn’t have quite so many tears upon it, you know,”He mumbles gently against your lips, and you sniffle as you finally reach up to start wiping at them, “I-I just missed you so much, Kyojuro, I was so scared-you were almost-you could have-”

“But I didn’t, and I won’t.” He interrupts you sweetly, but firmly nonetheless, shaking his head at you, “I am fine. I am healed, my love. I am still here to fulfill my duties-and I always will be. That includes my duties to you as your husband.”

“I…” It doesn’t feel like you should believe it-after what you’d heard of his battle, knowing he’d even just encountered an Upper Moon demon, this felt too good to be real or true, and yet… There’s such certainty and finality blazing in his eyes as he stares at you, all you can do is nod.

“… Alright.”

———————————————–

… Really, all you had intended to do this evening, now that you had your husband home with you, was cook him his favorite meal and go to sleep with him, in his arms, for the first time in who knew how long, at this point. Truthfully, that had been your only goal. You wanted him to rest, no matter how many times he told you just how fully recovered he was through the mouthfuls of sweet potato you so lovingly prepared for him-and yet… And yet…

Well, you suppose you simply didn’t account for him wanting… Dessert.

“It’s been so long,” The words are mumbled around you, your flesh, as he greedily, really voraciously eats and licks you up from between your legs-you’d already known him to be feral when presented with the sweet treat only you could provide him with, but this was something else entirely, “-it’s been too long, my love, don’t you understand how very hungry I am?”

You don’t, but by no means are you going to let that stop either of you. You missed his mouth just as much as he missed your taste.

“K-Kyojuro-Kyojuro, I’m-Kyo–”

… He’s never been one to tease or deny you. And yet just as you’re about to cum, so close to the edge you could have tasted it yourself, he’s pulling away from you. His lips and chin and… Well, his face, in general, are so shiny with you-you easily forget your frustration and get lost in the blissful look in his eyes as he cleans himself with his tongue. “While you certainly are the most delicious thing in this world, my sweet,” He crawls up the length of your body so quickly, so desperate to smash his lips to your own, “-as I’ve told you, it’s been far too long. I want to feel you cum around my cock this evening. But I’m sure you have no complaint either way?” Any other day, you’d want to hit him, to get that cheeky look off of his face, but… You also can’t say you don’t want that. Maybe you really don’t have any complaints either way. “… You’re awful,” You huff up at him, but you nod, “… But alright.” … And yet he stays still. It would be so easy-you’re properly soaked, and the pair of you are completely naked, and yet your infuriating husband is just… Sitting there, hovering over you with a smile on his face. It’s a soft, loving smile-but you’ve known him so long, you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “… Can I not admire you, my beautiful spouse? Even for a moment, after I’ve been gone from you for so very long?” It’s not a crime for him to stare at you so adoringly-really, you’d love it if you weren’t as damn horny as you were. But... It has been a long time. He’s teasing, but as much as that’s true, you know he’s being earnest, too-his eyes flicker all over your form so carefully, meticulously re-memorizing every tiny detail about you. “... Even more beautiful then before I left you, dear one,” The way he murmurs it, so absently, it’s almost more like he’s saying it to himself, but his eyes raised to bore back into yours after a minute-clearly, he wants you to hear every word of what he’s saying, absent or not. “... Would you like to know something I thought about while I was away?” His love renders you breathless, speechless-it’s all you can do to nod up at him. “During the brief hours of respite I would get, I would think to myself... What would it be like to come back to you, our home... How would it feel, the joy of it all... And then, another thought had started to occur to me,” A sharp gasp tears through you as you feel a few fingers suddenly and swiftly beginning their work at stretching you out-sneaky man, he’d distracted you from his hands with his voice, and even then, he kept talking like he hadn’t done anything, “... What would it be like if I could come home to the sight of you all swollen and glowing with our child...?” Those words rob you of whatever meager amount of breath you had managed to regain. With your child...? “... Oh, my love, you squeezed my fingers so nicely just now,” He marvels at the sight, the feeling of you, worrying his lip between his teeth-you’re so pretty like this, is what he wants to say, but his mind is suddenly consumed by the thought he’d put into both your heads a moment ago. You, glowing with the product of your love in your stomach. You don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock where it hangs all hard between his legs. “Do you like the sound of that, then...? Do you want to carry my children, our children, my dear one? I’ll give it to you if you just say the word-after all, what poor excuse of a husband would I be if I didn’t?” His fingers move in and out of you faster, frantic and eager to prepare you for him, now, as he almost rambles on like that-his words set your body, your insides, on fire. You do want it, you realize-it’s not something you’d given much thought to before, but here, like this, right now after spending so much time worrying about losing him? You really do want nothing more. “P-p-please, please Kyojuro, I want-please give me your children, I want it, I want you, please make me pregnant, my husband, please-” It’s not meant to egg him on, truly it isn’t-you just can’t help but beg with how badly you want it yourself. But that doesn’t mean you don’t delight in the way he seems to snap, just the slightest bit, above you, quickly removing his fingers from you to replace them with his cock-what you’d been waiting for since he laid you down in bed earlier. That felt like an eternity ago right now, though. The stretch isn’t an uncomfortable one, with the care he’d still taken to prepare you-you missed it, if anything, you missed him. And it’s clear that he feels the same-he’s gone so tense above you, arms trembling on either side of you with the restraint it takes not to move. Somehow, he still manages to keep up that bright smile of his, too. “Do tell me when I can move, my love. This is a bit unbearable with how lovely you feel!” ... As hazy as your mind was with pleasure, you couldn’t help but giggle. Even now, your husband was so... Endearing. So cute. Your bring your hands up to hold his face as you nod your head eagerly, over and over, “Please, Kyojuro-please, I want it,” You can see that he wants to worry about you, wants to ask you again to make sure-but he can’t, his body betrays him, his hips instantly slotting themselves against your own, pulling back only to quickly bring themselves back down, his cock pressing and rubbing against every bit of your insides as it moves in and out of you, over and over and over, so fast-and your husband hardly even breaks a sweat. ... His being a demon slayer, and a pillar, at that, had its perks, you supposed. His stamina was one of them. But he seemed to already be losing his composure, too, with just how long it’d been since you’d gotten to be so close. “This-this is embarrassing, haha-I feel like I could burst at any moment already-just-just thinking about how-utterly perfect you’d look, ah-” His hips stutter, and he stills for a second, to keep his own pleasure at bay for a moment-though he makes up for it with the hand that shoots down to rub and stroke at what his cock isn’t already touching, “-goodness gracious-how perfect you’d look, pregnant, my love-” As if you aren’t ready to burst, yourself. Did he suddenly forget about denying you mere minutes ago...? “M-my husband-my husband, Kyojuro, please, m-me too, just go ahead, please-please give me your child, give it to me, please-” “You’re really as difficult as you are beautiful!” The very wind is knocked out of you as you find your legs suddenly on either side of your head, as he fucks into you with a very renewed, fittingly fiery sense of vigor and passion, grunting freely every time he feels you wrap around him again and again, “I truly did want to take my time with you this evening, my sweet-how irresistible you are like this-I’ll have to savor you another time-” This position, the wildness in his eyes, the feeling and the sight of him-yes, the sight of him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the bulge appearing and disappearing from your stomach-fucking into you desperately, all of it is far too much for you, far too overwhelming, but of course he revels above you in the way you clamp down on him and make a sudden, abrupt mess all over the pair of you, not to mention the futon underneath you. “So beautiful-so beautiful like this, my love-I-just the sight of you, you’re going to make me-goodness-” He leans over you and folds you in half even further, nose brushing against your neck, “I-I’m going to-I’m going to give it to you now, alright? I swear it, my love, my dear one, I’ll-I’ll get you pregnant, I promise, I promise, I--” It’s so intense, he almost roars as it washes over him, as he fills you up so completely it leaks out of you, with how long its been since either of you had any form of... Release. Your legs are released, and they flop numbly down against the plush futon beneath you-your husband can barely keep himself up, but he at least tries to be careful as he collapses against you, chuckling so happily against your shoulder while you can hardly keep your eyes open, let alone say anything. You wish you had the sense what was apparently so... Funny, right now. “... I love you, _____.” The biggest wave of tranquility falls over you, hearing those words. You can’t quite say much of anything still, but he knows-he sees it in your eyes when he looks up at your face. You love him too. Right now, that’s all he needs. “I really am so happy to be home, dear one.”

#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut #demon slayer smut #submission

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sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw · 3 years

Text

Immortal - 1, Introduction (kinktober)

Kaminari Denki - Electricity

Warnings: 18+ (minor dni), non-consensual touching, electricity, creepy Denki, running, not edited

Word count: 3,185 (this is longer than all the other parts)

Masterlist

Part 1 | Next

October

The month that had become dedicated to stories and decorations on store shelves that ranged from spooky to creepy. But there was a strange unsettled feeling resting in the air this year. You felt it in the cool breeze and the whispers as people talked about the missing heroes from the past two years.

It was hard to believe the year was almost over. Especially when it felt like it had only just started, but here you were. You checked the clock and found your shift was done. You promptly wrapped up what you were doing and practically skipped out, with a book in hand. On your way out, your ear caught snippets of a conversation.

"It's horrible what happened."

"I wonder if it's going to happen again this year."

Right.

Two years ago, in October, the famous incident occurred when several students from U.A. went missing during a mission they had all been on. No one could ever find a single trace of them.

You pondered on it as you walked on the sidewalk with your book tucked under your arm. The sky was a deep blue and the air you breathed in was crisp and refreshing. And you were off work for the rest of the day. Which meant you could finally read more of the book that had been sitting on your counter for the past month. And it was a perfect day to read outside.

But you couldn’t stop recalling the strange, seemingly related event that happened last year. The next year after the disappearance, also October, two more heroes who had only just recently graduated from U.A. vanished the same way. It was also around that time when they realized that the villains Shigaraki and Dabi never showed their faces again, and the League of Villains seemed to be looking for them.

However horrible the disappearances, it soon faded into past news and life went on like nothing had ever happened. However, when the calendar changed to October once more, everyone was on edge. The heroes seemed more cautious, the public held their breath in anticipation.

You did your best not to care. It put a sick feeling in your stomach. Hopefully your book would manage to distract you.

Upon finding a nice bench, with a view of the nearby forest, you sat down with a content sigh and flipped the book open. Thankfully, it worked. You slipped into the story, hardly even noticing when you flipped the page or even when the clouds began to block out the sun. You only stopped when it became nearly too dark to read the page. You looked up.

Night had fallen. Shadows stretched and covered everything like a blanket. The only bit of natural light was a dim blue that was sure to fade soon enough.

Your heart beat fast. You closed your book and started in the direction of your apartment. There were always stories. Stories you knew were real. Stories that you'd hear all throughout the whole year, about people staying out too late at night and running into the wrong people. Real monsters.

This was your plan until you spotted somethin- no, someone moving. In the darkness, it took you a moment to see them more clearly. Someone in black and gray from head to toe, not a single bit of skin showing. And one in yellow, a top hat, and a theater mask. It took a moment, but you recognized these two as villains. You stumbled back. They were on the news once, and now they were there. You could see them. They could see you if they looked, they just hadn't yet. Or had they?

Your hands shook. Your limbs were frozen for a few precious seconds. Seconds that you could have used to get away. You ran to the forest. It was the first place you thought of. Maybe you could hide in the trees if they followed you. It was certainly a better option than running in the middle of the street.

The shadows swallowed you. You rushed past the tall trees that loomed over you. Twigs snapped beneath you. The sound of your own terrified breathing filled your ears. So loud, you thought everyone could hear.

The thought of actually stopping to hide finally occurred to you. You ducked behind a tree, hoping it was wide enough to completely hide you. Your eyes darted everywhere. You stopped breathing, praying that you wouldn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Nothing. Just the wind in the trees above. The leaves were so dark they looked more black than the sky above you.

Suddenly, your eye caught something that you missed. It was large. You jumped, as if some primal instinct were prepared for a giant monster. It didn’t move. You squinted and let out the breath you were holding.

It was a mansion. There were no lights on inside of it, and the wood was so dark it almost blended in. You never heard about this being here.

You wondered if anyone lived in it. Maybe they could help you. Though, it thankfully seemed like you weren’t being followed. It would be easy to just walk up and get a closer look. With a hand against the tree, you considered your options, to stay or check it out.

Your curiosity won the day.

You stayed low, prepared to dive behind a tree or bush, or duck underneath the mansion porch's railing. Almost every sound was amplified in your ear, making you jump. Which included the sounds even you were making.

The door wasn't locked. It swung open with ease, seemingly inviting you in.

You were considering whether you should enter, when you heard a distant, deep voice behind you. Your heart leaped from out of your chest. Following the voice, now another one, were footsteps. Without a second thought, you dashed inside and closed the door.

The entrance was large and open. Two staircases across from you. Two rooms to the left and right. You stepped into the left room to peer through one of the windows. You walked closer and closer to it. But no matter how close you looked, even when your nose was nearly against the cold glass, you could only see black. You stepped back in confusion.

It was the moment that you heard the door opening that you realized there was nowhere to truly hide in the left room. You quietly ran and dove under the table in the right room. Probably a dining room. The old carpet was rough against your elbows propping you up. You willed yourself to stop breathing as you watched their feet slowly tread in.

"I don't remember this mansion wasn't here last time we searched here," one said.

The other closed the door behind him.

"Yeah. This place is cool, but a little creepy. It's old and boring!"

"You don't suppose this mysterious mansion would have anything to do with Shigaraki's and Dabi's disappearance?"

"Hopefully, definitely not! Everyone's been looking for them for a long time. But I think the voice behind the screen cares more about Shigaraki."

You couldn't hold your breath anymore. You tried to be as quiet as you possibly could, but the small amount of air you allowed yourself just made you breathe faster and heart race. What were they doing here? Still looking for Shigaraki? You resisted the urge to peek up at them. If you could see them, they could see you. But somehow even looking at just their feet filled you with anxiety. Jumping every time one seemed to walk towards you. You wished the table was lower. That there was a long tablecloth that would hide you. That they wouldn’t see you.

"We should tell Kurogiri about this. Let's just leave."

"I agree." A moment passed. He tapped his foot against the floor. "I seem to not have a signal here."

A few seconds and some rustling. "Me neither. I'll go out and make the call."

His heavy steps left, leaving the other to wait behind, but only for a second.

"Um, you might need to see this. We're screwed."

"Hm?" He promptly left, leaving you alone.

You considered getting up and running away. But where would you hide? Would you be fast enough to hide somewhere else? Maybe you could open a win-

"How… did this happen?"

"I don't know! I just walked out and saw the ground wasn't there anymore! Or the trees or anything!"

You barely concealed a gasp. The door slammed shut and you saw two pairs of feet walk in once more. They debated for what felt like hours. Your nerves were shot and it felt like your elbows had rugburn. Finally, they walked up the stairs. You waited just a little longer until you heard a door closed. And even longer, until you were sure.

You slid yourself out from under the table. That couldn't be true, right? You ran to the door on your tippy toes, wincing every time you made the slightest sound. The door opened after a gentle twist.

You looked out. And sure enough. There was nothing beyond the porch but an endless black. Not the kind of black when everything's too dark to see. Even then, the shadows had depth. This.. seemed to stretch on forever.

You rushed back in and grabbed a vase on a wooden stand. Fragile white with turquoise lines that formed diamonds. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. You lowered the vase to the dark, one hand on the floor board while the other reached down as far as you could with the vase in hand.

The vase never touched the ground. With a sigh, you let go of it. It dropped and dropped. Fell and fell, slowly spinning… until you couldn’t see it anymore. You listened for a crash, some sign that it reached the bottom, but the only sound was your own breath.

No bottom in sight.

This had… this had to just be some sort of quirk. Some sort of… defense for someone living there. It was the only explanation. That had to be it. You weren't trapped there with no way out, right?

You sat up. You cautiously glanced into the room before stepping in. You hadn’t noticed that it should be too dark to see anything. But somehow you could, like dim light coming from a moon that didn't exist.

A red carpet led to the staircase, then split to go up each set of stairs. Between the two sets of stairs was a book on a stand. One you hadn’t noticed.

You opened up a window and looked out. The void was still there. Still wrapping around the mansion. The only thing that existed now was you and this house. And the villains.

You wrestle with your pocket while dashing to a dark corner beside a table, and ripped your phone out. It nearly fell out of your hands as you turned it on and dialed the first contact you saw. Dial tone. The number was unavailable. You texted your parents. The text couldn't get through. Zero bars. You could get onto social media or make a Google search. But you could post or message anyone. Not one word, not on a single forum.

Your hands trembled. You ran one through your hair, grabbed onto the roots, and pulled. It didn’t even hurt. Nothing to distract you from your situation.

What to do. What to do. Well, hiding there was doing nothing good. Maybe you could search for a way out. Or find the owner and tell them what had happened.

There was no way you were going through the dooring up the stairs. You wanted to avoid the villains at all costs. You picked the door on ground level to the right. Book shelves were lined against the wall. There was no dust, but something gave you the feeling they hadn't been used in a long time. No lights, but strangely lit like the room before. You walked through the next door. A bedroom. The bed was sloppily made. Maybe it was the lack of people, but something unsettled you. Nothing felt quite right. But perhaps this was reasonable considering nothing else about the mansion was normal.

You reached for the knob of yet another door when you heard footsteps on the other side. That was your chance. You should have seen who it was, if they could have helped you. But there had been almost no real sign of anyone being in the mansion up until then. Even with the used bed, what if the villains had found another way downstairs? What if they were about to catch you?

You turned and made a dash. Through every door you'd been through so far. You should have just hid under the bed, but you didn't think of it at the time. You just wanted to get as far as you could.

When you got back to the entrance, your heart dropped in horror when you saw the villains emerging from the doors at the top of the stairs. They hastily ran out of it and firmly closed it behind them.

"Who is that!?" The louder of the two said.

Blood pounded in your ears. You didn’t stop. You were already opening the door in the left room and pulled the door shut behind you, still running.

How did they get there? Were they actually following you? Was it someone else you had run from? Was any of this even real?

You lost track of how many rooms you had run into. This one was hardly any different from the others. Same dark red wallpaper. There was a wardrobe, but did that really make a difference? You stopped in front of a window. Black. The moment you stopped was the moment your exhaustion hit you. Your legs and chest ached. You glanced at the door quickly then stared at the window.

Was this real? Was this all some sick dream?

You opened up the window.

If this was a dream and you fell, you would wake up.

You leaned out, placing your hands on the farm and beginning to lift a knee. The whole time you just stared into the nothingness.

"Woah, that's not a good idea," a cheerful voice behind you said, pulling you back by your waist.

Your back hit the stranger's chest. You twisted your head back to see who it was. His blond hair was long enough to reach his stubble covered jawline. He looked to be in his twenties, and was familiar for some reason. None of the villains, fortunately.

You breathed a much needed, heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness you're not them."

“Nope, I’m Kaminari. Kaminari Denki. Wow! It’s been forever since I’ve talked with someone new. Hi, I’m Denki. Oops I already said that.”

You raised an eyebrow at his behavior. He held you a little too tightly. It was then you noticed you were too close together, with his crotch against your rump. You, embarrassed, gently pushed him away and he let go.

“Nice to meet you too. Kaminari? That sounds familiar.”

“Maybe you heard of me from the U.A. Sports Festival?”

“U.A…? Wait! Chargebolt? One of the U.A. students that went missing two years ago!??”

“The one and only.” He puffed his chest out.

“But.. what? That’s not possible. You look like you’re twenty-five or something.”

“You’re right, I am! It’s been so long since I had someone else to talk to! Did I already say that?”

He held your hand and pulled it close to him. Electricity sparked, going straight into your hand and making you jump.

“Sorry.” He smiled with concern in his eyes. “I have a little bit of a hard time controlling it now. Especially when I’m this excited.” His other hand reached towards you.

You stepped back and pulled your hand away. “Don’t touch me, please.”

He tilted his head, like he didn’t understand. But he didn’t come any closer.

"By the way, who were you talking about earlier? I’m not who?"

"Villains! They came in here after I ran in to hide from them."

“Really? What did they look like?”

“Twice and Mr. Compress. Twice has a black and gray suit, and Mr. Compress has a top hat, a mask, and a yellow jacket. Did you see them?”

“Yeah, I did. Actually, I saw them coming this way.” He pointed towards the door he had just come from.

“What!? Oh no…” your head whipped around, eyes scanning everywhere for a place to hide.

“I know a place to hide! In here.” Kaminari opened the wardrobe.

He quickly stepped in and moved to make room for you. You slid the hanging coats and clothing to one side and closed the door with just a small crack to see. It was too cramped for you. It was uncomfortably warm, but you would take it.

Your heart pounded in your ears. It was hard to see anything in the room with the small slit. Even then, you prayed they wouldn’t see you through the crack. If they did, you’d be finished with nowhere to run.

His fingers were against your waist, something you hardly even noticed because of the adrenaline. But they began rubbing circles into you, small tingles of electricity tickled you. One slipped down to the dip where your legs attached to the rest of your body. He pressed against your butt, at first you assumed it was simply him adjusting and the lack of room, but he didn't move. In fact, he pushed himself flush against you. You felt something warm and hard between your cheeks through the fabric of yours and his pants. If you tried to back away, the wardrobe door would open more, and the villains might come in any time.

"Please stop," you whispered.

He didn’t stop. He rubbed his head against the back of yours. He breathed in contently.

His hand rubbing you fell to your hip, then up again, into your shirt. You felt him drag against your soft skin. Reaching up to your bra. He made a clumsy effort to slip beneath it before squeezing and massaging it with the bra still on. Tiny sparks from his fingertips only drew your attention to this. You jolted when one ran over your nipple.

"Hey," you tried to sound angry, but it came out as a whine.

Much to your dismay, you felt your core growing unbearably warm. You wanted to stop him, but you froze. Your breaths were heavy. It didn’t help when he dipped his hand into your pants. Electricity somehow teased your clit through your panties. You barely held the moan in your throat.

"We can't be doing this," you said as a final attempt, "What if they hear?"

His lips fluttered against your skin. "Who will hear?"

"What do you mean? The villains… they are…" Did he actually see them coming?

He chuckled and ran a finger against your waistband. "We're gonna have some fun."

#kinktober #kinktober 2021 #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki x reader smut #smut #tw:noncon #I finally got it done

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saberstars · 3 years

Text

I'm Here

Pairing: Gender Neutral Y/N & Loki

Fluff, angst, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of depression/mental illness, epilepsy/seizures, mentions of sex, as always if I missed anything feel free to let me know

Summary: Loki & You have a pre-existing friendship with benefits & one night you have a seizure after some spiciness. He cares for you helping you afterwards & makes sure you rest easy & safe. Reader is portrayed to have seizures more so during changes in sleep phases, not awake. The wake seizures or more of a medium ish absence/ focal aware seizure that only occur on occasion & can be “fought” through.

Word Count: 1796

Notes: This was intended to be a gender neutral reader. I think I removed all he/she pronouns.

Additionally, I know that not everyone experiences seizures the same way, and that epilepsy can affect people differently. This is all written from my experiences with it, so I ask that you do not tell me I portrayed something wrong. I can and will accept constructive criticism, But I will not accept someone telling me blatantly that I am wrong with my experiences. Therefore please keep that in mind when reading. I genuinely hope this fic brings others comfort if you suffer from epilepsy or any disorder that causes seizures. Thank You <3

It’s been three years since you found out you suffered from epilepsy. A diagnosis that came late in your life to be fair. As a young child up until you reached adulthood, you suffered from eye shakes that would eventually turn into stuttering spells that made it difficult to breath or not breath properly at all. You never passed out though, you got close a few times, but you managed to stay awake and “fight it off.” You started to notice over time that you’d also get a strange taste in your mouth, almost like metal or as if you were sucking on a battery and it had that zing flavor. You knew that was a precursor and would panic on cue rightfully so. You hated when you had your mini stutter fests because all you could do was hope it didn’t happen.

Of course you complained to your parents as a child but they didn’t think it was anything. They said it was just a panic attack. So you took their word for it. That was until you started having grand mals in your sleep. At first you thought they were just a part of some strange dream, that wasn't real to you, not yet anyway. You would wake up exhausted, sore, sometimes unable to move properly, walk, open and close a fist, and you just overall couldn't stay conscious sometimes. Again you complained to your parents about it, but they said it was nothing. You probably had night terrors or some form of minor sleep paralysis. So you dumbly believed them.

When you moved out, You sought answers, and eventually got them. You were grateful. The medication they prescribed helped tremendously though, it did make you tired but it was worth not having your episodes. Thankfully your case wasn’t as severe as others and it was manageable so long as you took care of yourself and took your medications. Though you were warned, breakthroughs were common, and missing your dose can and would cause a seizure.

Despite having such a diagnosis, you kept it to yourself. You never really told anyone. It wasn’t until you started sleeping with a friend, that you finally divulged your secret too in the event that it ever happened whilst they were with you.

It was someone you randomly slept with on and off with. A friend with benefits, his name was Loki. You had met the god shortly after his father had passed and his home, destroyed. You found comfort with each other despite it being more of a sexual comfort. You both used sex as a way to fight your own demons, a distraction, a quick grab at serotonin. Despite the sex you both developed a very deep friendship. You’d read together on occasion, have very interesting debates on current events, history, as well as other nuances, and a lot of other things. You even met his brother and the avengers at one point.

You both slept soundly after spicy events had taken place 2 hours prior, Loki had come over desperate for attention of any kind. He didn’t say why, but you knew it was a rather serious topic he wished not to discuss and rather lessen the pain with ecstasy. Little did you know, on this day a few years ago he indirectly murdered his mother. He blamed himself dearly, he knew if he would have kept his mouth shut for once in his life she may be here today. So he needed a genuine distraction. One of any kind. Preferable you. Due to the spicy events that took place you missed your dose, due to falling asleep promptly after, which cost you dearly. Missing doses always caused this to happen no matter what.

You gasped for air like usual, your body contorting outwards first with a thrust. You were awake, conscious, and terrified for the few seconds you normally were given before blacking out. You began to stutter violently all the air leaving your lungs as it happened. Until no sounds were made and it was just you chattering. Loki woke immediately, with a completely calm exterior despite a raging mixture of emotions internally. He knew you never called an ambulance for these things because you were normally alone & unaware until you became conscious again. She made him promise to never call 911 unless it was over a certain time length, to save her medical expenses, or unless she stopped breathing for good.

Loki dare not touch you though as you shook and curled up. The last thing he wanted was his godly strength to crush you somehow or cause you more pain. Instead he watched and hovered until you finally stopped. It was a short 50 second one, which was under your time limit, but he still debated calling. It’s not like You would’ve known he lied.

His breathing hitched as he went to check your pulse and airway, ever so delicately, which were both clear and strong.

“Oh thank you.” he whispered

A few hours had slid by with still no response from you. Loki sat next to you, staring down at you, to the point where he would fight the urge to blink, waiting for a stir of some kind from you. He did give the courtesy of redressing you though, in a nightgown from a drawer after an hour slid past. He even went as far as ensuring that you were adequately covered by the blankets to avoid being chilled. It has been 3 ½ hours now, with no stir of any kind from you. He knew it would be awhile before you showed any signs of movement possibly but this worry tore him to his core. In the midst of waiting he refused to just idly go back to sleep next to you, he was determined to stay awake until you were conscious again, so that you knew, he stayed there waiting for you. Loki didn’t know when he found himself talking to you as if you were awake, but all he knew was that it made him feel a bit better, and he hoped that when you woke it would make you feel better too.

“You know, I’ve been reading this really dumb gothic romance novel. I think you’d like it because of how naive the girl is. I know you like to criticize and pick on how they make decisions.” he spoke with a chuckle in his voice thinking back to how you’d flail your arms and drop your book to scream about how dumb some main protagnist could be.

“I'll have to buy you a copy or give you mine when I’m done.” Loki shifted his weight from his right to his left brushing your bangs out of your eyes.

“I don’t know why you keep those so long, all they do is get in the way of your gorgeous eyes.”

It was in that moment you rustled, you shifted your neck ever so slightly, Your eyelids twitch. Loki leaned forward parting his lips as he watched with a heart of hope completely overwhelmed with joy when he saw the color of your iris’s. He exhaled a shaky breath cupping your cheeks which caused you to flinch sending a wave of shocks through your body. It was at that moment you knew. You knew what he saw, what he had gone through. Your heart sank and you immediately berated yourself internally despite your exhausted state.

“It’s ok you don’t have to say or do anything. I’ll stay, I’ll take care of you for as long as you need.” Loki assured you, wanting you to know that you didn’t have to go through this alone. You never really had anyone stay, let alone worry about you. Your eyes began to water as tears rolled down your face.

“I’ll go grab you some water, you’re probably parched. I’ll also grab you a banana. I read that potassium can help with the cramping.” Loki said leaving to yourself for a moment. He also grabbed tissues for your eyes and nose just in case. Upon returning her placed everything at your side offering help to sit up. “Do you need to use the bathroom or help sitting up?” He asked with a gentle tone.

You nodded trying to take a good deep breath so you could speak a bit. “I’m so sorry you had to see that… but thank you. Thank you for staying, for helping. I do need the bathroom and I would appreciate help. My legs are still...” you mustered out with all your might but after a point your tongue refused to work with you.

“Of course, I may be a monster but I’m not entirely cruel. If it helps… you can just think to yourself and I can listen that way. So that you're not struggling too much.” Loki admitted with a tone of self depreciation.

“You're not a monster just because you're different & have made mistakes.” you thought as Loki picked you up bridal style walking you to the bathroom. Of course he placed you down on the toilet and waited outside for you to do what you needed. Since he had only added a nightgown to your previously naked body it made things easier. It was exhausting to just sit up and do everything but you pushed through. You even pushed yourself up and limped to the sink best you could to wash your hands. Upon hearing the faucet though Loki came back in standing behind you offering support if needed.

“Catch me~” you thought before falling back into his arms with a snort.

“You're lucky I have godlike reflexes you minx.” He replied with a hint of flirtation. You had used more than you had in you to wash your hand. Loki caught you obviously and carried you back to the room placing you back on the bed. “No, more like I knew you were ready to catch me.” you slowly thought as exhaustion tugged at your consciousness again. Loki noticed the pill bottle on your dresser before prompting you to take it. Instinctively opening it and sliding one into his hand.

“You should probably take this before you fall asleep.” You took it mentally saying thanks drinking the glass of water with it.

“Yeah that would probably help avoid some added breakdancing.” You joked trying to use humor to lighten the situation. Loki stared plain faced trying not to entertain your joke though, despite finding it secretly witty. Maybe he’d laugh at it when you felt a bit better. Soon after you began to dance between awake and sleep. Loki took note based on how your thoughts jumbled around between multiple things, laughing to himself a bit before minor intrusive fears began picking at you. Loki immediately jumped into action in an attempt to squash them soothing you a bit.

“You can sleep soundly, please get some rest. You don’t have to force yourself to stay awake out of fear or guilt.” Loki spoke in the most caring and sweet tone he could muster up. Trying to convince you that it was going to be ok & it worked. Somehow you knew he was right & that you could trust him completely. You drifted back to sleep peacefully thinking about how for the first time in your life, you didn’t fear sleeping in your bed. You didn’t have intrusive thoughts about whether or not you’d wake up in the morning or not. Which honestly brought tears bubbling their way up and out of Loki's eyes. The amount of trust you had in him in your thoughts, at that moment completely took his breath away. And that was something he wasn’t going to break or ever lose.

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Fabio Blue Nose

Aaaargh, this was supposed to be a short, but it has demanded to be longer and I’ve run out of time. I did not want another WIP!

But anyway, here be Fabio Blue Nose, or a start of some kind at least. I hope you enjoy this random fluff so far.

Many thanks to @tsarinatorment and @janetm74 for their support.

It should also be noted that no sea shanties were harmed in the creation of this fic. Nor are their any sea shanties in it, despite there being an urge to add one.

Aaaargh, it is 12.45am. I gotta go sleep, damnit.

-o-o-o-

The first time was an accident.

None of the brothers owned up to it but chances were it was Gordon, no matter how many times he swore complete innocence.

Though, come to think of it, Scott was rather more compliant than expected, so Virgil threw a little unspoken suspicion his way as well.

But anyway, it happened and it was a good thing.

There was always press at rescues that they could reach. Scott was fully aware of the importance of the media, particularly where communication and, to a certain extent, promotions were concerned. But when they got in the way of a rescue, the commander was well known to be intolerant.

This particular time, however, the press was managed by the GDF who were also onsite due to the scale of the disaster and possible sabotage, so International Rescue didn’t have to worry about them so much while they dug fifty miners out of a kilometre deep hole.

All but John were on the rescue. All but John were dirty, sweaty and ever so tired. There had been a chunk of rock that had needed demolition charges to get through, causing enough headache that even Virgil had been heard to spit profanity over comms when one of the charges misfired and nearly took his head off with shrapnel in the tunnel.

Eleven of the fifty men didn’t make it and there was some body recovery after the far too many trips it took to get them all back to the surface. In short, it had been an ugly, hard day. All the Tracys just wanted to go home and disappear into whatever distraction worked best for them.

Scott had to liaise with the GDF regarding red tape and reporting circumstances in the mine...that they should probably go down and see for themselves instead of relying on a civilian rescue organisation to do their dirty work for them. But whatever the reason, Virgil, Gordon and Alan were left to pack up and wait while all the dots and crosses were applied to appropriate Ts and Is.

It took longer than expected.

Virgil, sporting an aching shoulder, was reduced to pacing the length of Two’s open hatch. He should just take his brothers home and leave Scott to tackle the GDF.

But Scott was just as tired as they were and he had only just returned from another rescue when this callout came in. His big brother was exhausted and Virgil feared that if he left him behind they might end up a few GDF personnel short before the sun went down.

And the press were watching.

It was probably at this point the photo was taken.

It was iconic, even Virgil had to admit it. Emotive and made a statement about who they were and what they did.

The shot was from a forty-five degree angle, using a zoom lens that caught every detail of Two’s open module. Virgil stood in the middle of the ramp, paused mid-pace and staring off at something, probably Scott, in the distance. The shadow of Two in the evening light had his head in shadow, adding a heroic seriousness to his expression.

That alone was dramatic, but behind him from the camera angle, sitting on the top of the ramp to one side of the open hatch were Gordon and Alan.

Gordon had his arm around his little brother as they both stared in the same direction as Virgil. All three brothers were grimy and exhausted, Alan’s head was resting on Gordon’s shoulder.

It must have been an extraordinary lens to capture the detail because the media were fenced off a considerable distance away, but there was enough clarity to see one tear track in the dust on Alan’s face.

Their littlest brother claimed he had scratched his cheek, but they all knew better.

So, yes, this photo was taken and thrown across the planet as an illustration of three heroes of International Rescue.

There were rave reviews. Whole swaths of text praising everything their organisation did, what had been achieved that day and what had been achieved in the past. Inevitably, the history of International Rescue did the rounds again, their father’s legacy and all that. An unfortunate reminder of both the parents they had lost in the process. Being proud didn’t negate the pain that came along with it.

But due to the quirkiness of human attention, none of the above was the source of the impact the photo finally had.

It wasn’t Thunderbird Two or any of the three brothers photographed that captured most of the public’s attention.

It was a teddy bear.

Virgil kept a number of cuddly toys on Two. Some he had knitted himself, or purchased, a few were donated, but all were kept and given to children and occasionally adults, who were terrified during a rescue or evacuation and found themselves secured in Two’s module.

Perhaps the bear had fallen out of its storage, perhaps one of the brothers had shoved it aside. Whatever had happened, in the iconic photograph of three hardworking Tracy brothers, right at the back, inside the module sat a dark grey teddy bear with a blue nose and shiny eyes that caught the setting sun.

Staring right at the camera.

And the world went nuts for this bear.

It took less than a day for the fame of the teddy bear to become enough to alert Thunderbird Five and, in turn, roust Virgil out of bed - it’s lunchtime, Virgil, time enough to wake up.

Virgil’s answer to that was clear, precise and rated for adults only.

John triggered the coffee maker in the kitchen to start working its magic before his brother busted up something other than the English language.

Eventually, Virgil made it down to Two and dug out the bear responsible.

It was still sitting on top of the storage locker, which added kudos to Virgil’s flying skill.

He was going to shove it back into the locker when John asked him not to. Apparently, the bear had a following on social media.

So, Virgil picked it up and took it back up to the comms room. He placed it beside him at their father’s desk and pulled up a search screen and typed in ‘bear’ and ‘International Rescue’. He could, of course, ask John to forward him whatever his brother had obviously found, but he didn’t.

The search results that sprung up made it very clear that the world was most definitely obsessed with that bear.

There were zoomed in pictures of the inside of the module – a fact that had Virgil a little worried regarding security until he realised that anything that could possibly be compromised was just that little bit blurred. No doubt that was Eos at work. Probably snared the original photo before it could perpetuate.

But even then it was obvious that the posters had no interest in the technology. Several photos had the bear circled in red.

Various comments attempted to give reasons as to why the bear was there. The explanations were rather fantastical in the majority. A few were actually disturbing and linked Alan’s tear track to the bear – Virgil threw that bit of information at Thunderbird Five and that line of thought suddenly disappeared from the results. Some suggested the photograph was posed, a few mentioned that Thunderbird Two did carry such things and that was followed by a wave of genuine thanks and admiration for what they did…and then completely ignored when more fascinating ideas were presented.

Virgil was quite frankly amazed at what people could concoct from a photograph of a bear.

Said bear sat and stared at him the entire time. Its nose was very blue.

But ultimately the outcome that had occurred somewhere between all four brothers making it home last night and the time John dragged Virgil out of bed, Fabio Blue Nose had become a mascot for International Rescue.

Yes, ‘Fabio’.

Some inspired person had mentioned ‘F.A.B.’ as IR’s callsign and it went downhill from there.

Fabio stared at Virgil almost accusingly. His curly fur was a shade darker than Scott’s baldric and his eyes as golden as Gordon’s. His blue nose shone in the sunlight.

They had a teddy bear with a fan base, fan art and a dash of fan fiction.

Virgil caught his own name in one of them and shut it down so fast the browser crashed.

It didn’t help that an hour later Gordon found the same story and promptly paraded it around the villa for all to see and hear whether they wanted to or not. Apparently, because Virgil was the pilot of Thunderbird Two, Fabio was his crewmate.

A very heroic crewmate at that.

Could a teddy bear really rappel down a grapple like that?

He shook his head and threw a lounge cushion at his brother’s head. He really didn’t need to know.

But in any case, they now had a mascot that wasn’t Alan.

Gordon was hit in the head again for that assessment.

So, Fabio found his way to being sat on Two’s dash and accompanying them out on rescues.

The second photo was more than they had ever expected.

-o-o-o-

TBC?

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #fabio blue nose #Gordon Tracy #I don't know what the hell I was thinking

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

Text

Little Miracle

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1,900 Warning: A few curse words.

Author’s Note: This is part of the canon scene where Ethan and MC watch over Dolores’s baby, from Ethan’s POV. I was inspired by the line from the book that says they “talked long into the night.”

Catch up here.

The sterile room of the NICU feels stifling that night, the fluorescent lights shining on them both almost blinding. Ethan had been in that room many times before, but never like this. Never with a strain on his mind and heart so painful, he thinks he might burst from it. Now, sitting in the love seat, counting each of the baby's breaths, he feels as though he is in a foreign place—a vastly terrible one where his dearest friend does not exist anymore.

The knot in his throat returns.

Dammit.

It threatens to constrict his breathing in the most debilitating way and he hates it. Urgently, he suppresses the flood of emotion at once, turning instead to glance at Lilac next to him.

The young doctor is not looking at him. In the silence that stretches between them, she stares at the linoleum floor, her tear-streaked face is pale, her eyes bleary and red. The weight of their previous conversation hangs over them and he is surprised to discover it is not an unpleasant one. Instead, her quiet presence at his side feels oddly… comforting. More so than the many glasses of scotch he was planning on drowning in had he not stayed.

Sensing his eyes on her, she glances up and offers him a tired smile which Ethan returns without hesitation. The moment lingers and before either of them can say anything, a soft cooing distracts them as the baby stretches.

An inexplicable warmth pierces through Ethan as he very gently offers Dolores' baby his hand. Small fingers close around his, weakly, yet powerful enough to steal his breath away.

“She named him after you,” she informs him tenderly, as though the words she is offering him are made of the most delicate crystal.

A small wave of shock courses through him as he looks at the name.

Ethan Hudson.

His throat tightens painfully yet again and all he can do is swallow.

“I...see she did.”

A small silence.

Her soothing, kind voice saves him from his thoughts when she comments, “You must have known Dolores a long time.”

Ethan busies himself with carefully removing his hand from the baby's grasp. Despite the painful ache in his throat, he finds the words. “Over ten years. When I first emailed her I only meant to check in. But she was recently divorced, feeling alone, so she insisted on coffee.” In spite of himself, he smiles at the memory of the lively yet persistent young woman who had been so determined to befriend him. “And then it turned into more emails and meeting once every couple months for Sunday roast.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

She was, he thinks before his mind catches up with him. When it does, the past tense stabs him like a knife to the side.

“I didn’t make friends easily when I started here,” he begins, pausing only briefly to keep his voice from breaking. “So I was always grateful to her for that.”

The words finish ringing out in the quiet room and he swallows, suddenly exhausted from fighting back the excruciating pain of Dolores's death. As he falls silent, prickling eyes moving to the baby she fought so fiercely to protect, Ethan allows himself to mourn. The torrent of sorrow hits him is like the opening of a floodgate.

He is certain he will drown in his grief until a soft, warm hand slides over his, looking small and delicate against his own.

Ethan remains very still.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” she murmurs, the sincerity her voice offers something akin to a caress.

Ethan's eyes remain locked on their joined hands. Something about the sight and the feel of her soft skin against his tears away at his pride until all he wants to do is hold on to her desperately. Instead, he looks up to meet her eyes, unprepared for the quiet compassion in their depths. It hits him so abruptly that he is unable to look away, feeling something foreign stir in the depths of his chest, as consequential as the first blooms of Spring.

“Me too.”

As the seconds tick by and he becomes very aware that her hand remains on his, his pulse picks up, clamoring at his ears. With much effort, he forces himself to pull away.

“I think we need coffee.”

“I can get some,” she says, already rising to her feet, unaware of the scorching trail her touch left behind on his skin.

Ethan shakes his head. “No, I’ll go.”

He leaves the room in quick strides, grateful for the brief moment of solitude. Being alone, however, proves to be a small torment since he is unable to suppress thoughts of earnest, kindhearted eyes breaking down every barrier he had stubbornly built that evening. Steaming mugs of coffee in hand, he returns to the NICU with an eager haste he refuses to acknowledge, missing the tendrils of her soft companionship.

When he enters the room, Ethan finds her lovingly murmuring to the baby. “That’s it little tadpole. In and out.”

Lilac notices his arrival, offering him a sheepish smile at being caught. Cheeks blazing, she accepts the coffee gratefully. “This doesn’t taste like the cafeteria coffee,” she observes approvingly.

“This is from my private coffee machine. As soon as I got an office, I vowed never to drink that caffeinated dishwater again.” He watches her take this information in with knowing amusement. “Nobody knows I have it so…”

Quite seriously, she vows, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Ethan chuckles, shaking his head, the first true flash of amusement that evening.

They fall into a comfortable silence after that until the attending overseeing the case during the night shift strolls in to check on the baby. Satisfied with her findings, she quickly jots down the information on his chart.

“Our little miracle,” she comments quietly, both to the baby and to them, before leaving the room.

Ethan snuffs the urge to scoff at the word miracle. Lilac, of course, catches this and arches a brow at him.

“You don't believe in those,” she says, not as a question but as an undeniable observation.

Ethan hesitates to answer until he glances at her. There is no trace of judgment or derision on her lovely face, just fatigue from already spending several hours keeping watch.

“There is no scientific basis to account for them,” he allows. “Frankly, I'm a little surprised you believe in them despite choosing to spend your career with facts and empirical evidence.” He is careful to keep all sarcasm out of his tone though he doubts he is successful. Years of being a sardonic little shit are hard to break.

Lilac doesn't seem to mind, however, because she gives him an indulging sort of smile. “It is because I have studied science and facts that I am hesitant to dismiss their existence,” she explains. “Even with everything we know, there are some things science or reason cannot explain.”

“There are too many variables at play in a single minute, Rookie,” he counters. “When something occurs that we cannot explain away, it means a plethora of those variables aligned to create a perfect outcome.”

Lilac takes a careful sip of coffee, watching him over the rim of her mug. Not for the first time, he can see her mind working, formulating an argument. And like many times before, he longs to know the mystery of her thoughts.

“And getting that outcome despite all the innumerable possibilities,” she begins thoughtfully. “Isn't that a little miraculous?”

“No.”

Lilac laughs at the resolute way in which he shoots her down, though the sound is far from mocking.

“Are you then crediting what science cannot explain to coincidence and luck, Dr. Ramsey?”

He briefly pauses at that, thoughts stumbling. The haughty way in which she lifts the mug to her lips, concealing a smug smile, tells him she had intended to stump him. Instead of feeling annoyed, as he should, he feels a thrill of approval and something else entirely.

“Not at all,” he returns when he recovers. “I am merely pointing out that there is still much we don't know as a species. When something inexplicable takes place, the real cause is most likely attributed to something we haven't learned yet.”

Despite looking utterly exhausted, her eyes glint, as though she had expected that very answer.

“'If he is confronted with a miracle as an irrefutable fact he would rather disbelieve his own senses than admit the fact.'”

Ethan blinks.

“Are you seriously quoting Dostoevsky at me, Rookie?”

This time, she dissolves into self deprecating laughter. “Sorry,” she says, scrunching her nose in the most endearing of ways. “I studied him as an elective when I was in my undergrad program so it's hard to break out of the habit of being a pretentious ass.”

“A pre-med student with a penchant for world literature,” he observes, allowing himself to relax into the air of amusement her laughter catalyzes.

“I was downright insufferable.”

“So not much has changed.”

Lilac throws him what is meant to be an unamused glare, but she ruins it by losing the battle against a smile. Ethan grins, unable to help it.

“What else do you walk around quoting at people who disagree with you?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Nothing as severe as Russian literature,” she quips. “I save that for the most stubborn of the people I argue with.”

Ethan rolls his eyes though he too fails to stifle a smile. He begrudgingly accepts that he enjoys bantering with her, though he would never admit it out loud.

“Be lucky I didn't quote Harry Potter at you,” Lilac continues sagely. “I am notorious for that, too.”

“There's nothing in the Potter books about miracles,” he points out.

Lilac shoots him a surprised look. “You've read them?”

“Yes, I read the few that were out when I was in high school. They had midnight release events at bookstores when a new one was published.”

She stares at him in stunned silence.

“You went to that? That is so…”

“Don't say–”

“Cute.”

The word sends a jolt through him, made worse by the sound of her tired but giddy laughter. Ethan allows her to enjoy the mirth, even if it's at his expense. If he was being honest, he thoroughly enjoyed it too, feeling his anguish ease with each passing moment.

“Did you dress up?” she asks, eyes alight with excitement.

“We are not speaking of this anymore.”

“You did, didn't you?” she manages to say through a wave of fresh laughter. “Who did you dress up as? Harry? Dumbledore? Snape?”

Ethan makes a disgusted sound. “Don't insult me.”

Her laughter is uncontrollable by now and he can't help but join. “Good answer,” she commends.

Bodies close on the love seat, they both relax further into their seats, contentment lingering in their fading smiles. Ethan allows himself one good look at her as she becomes momentarily distracted by her phone. The harsh lightning of the NICU washes her out, especially in her sleep-deprived, exhausted state, but somehow she still looks unfairly beautiful. Yet, there is something entirely different about her, though he is far too tired to decipher what.

Lilac glances up to catch him staring.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Her previous words echo in his mind.

“There are some things science or reason cannot explain.”

Ethan thinks of Dolores and the unwavering friendship she offered him despite being surly and unapproachable. He thinks of the unconditional love she held for a being she had not even met yet, so profound she gave her life for him. He thinks of Lilac, offering him compassion and companionship despite his every effort to push her away.

Lilac glances glances his way, beaming at him radiantly. As he returns the smile, his heart feeling ten times lighter than it did an hour ago, he admits to himself that she was right.

______

Author’s Note: I don’t know what that was but if you made it here, thank you!

I think I will skip the baseball game scene and go on to the fMRI scene. I might have that be slightly AU and have Ethan ask MC the questions. Let me know what you think <3

______

@dulceghernandez | @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing

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exosmutfactory · 4 years

Text

Apart (Part 2 to Fallen)

Part 1

word count: 3158 (how tf!?!?)

Baekhyun feels uneasy the second he’s back inside the house; the air seems to be ten times colder without the warmth of your smile and the soft laughter of your daughter filling the air.

His fingers mindlessly trace over the patches of fabric you lovingly stitched into his coat after all the times he carelessly snagged holes in it from yanking it off of the hanger. He knows it’s selfish. Not properly sending you on your way to mask his own hurt at seeing you and your daughter venturing off on your adventures without him. Your world-stopping smile, pregnancy glow, and the two sets of heart softening doe eyes looking up at him too much for his tired form to bear. Too much for him to deal with his guilt without falling apart in front of you.

He hates it — hates how hard it is to be around you lately. Always feeling as if he is stepping on eggshells in fear of stressing you out. Your soft smiles and sweeter words whispered to the precious symbol of your love growing inside of you brings tears to his eyes that he has to hide every time you gaze up at him from across the living room when he steps through the door. You mean the world to him and he’d do anything for you. No matter how many long hours he spends cooped up alone at the office, or sleepless nights from attending to your daughter when she cries for him in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t change a single part of your lives — except for last night.

His heart aches at the thought; fists clenched and bile rising in his throat. Remembering the deceitful men urging him to take more drinks, and the woman he practically had to shove off his lap.

♡♡

Baekhyun’s heart beat is pounding furiously in his ears, the only thing stopping him from going into a blind rage is the thought of you waiting up for him at home. With your pretty doe eyes and worry-melting smiles. Just your presence alone can calm him down.

He steps over the threshold without a word, hanging up his cream colored coat as he’s struck with the reminder that he is two hours late again. The underlying implications of that puts him in an even sour mood. He’s so stressed out lately that just the thought of anything more than a cup of coffee makes him feel sick to his stomach, and even more ill at the fact that you’re probably thinking he doesn’t enjoy your meals anymore. Meals that you usually store away for later, yet tonight you are—

“How was work?” Your voice is soft, always understanding in wake of his more often than not pleasant moods. His heart flutters as he quietly moves over to the coffee maker, mindful to carefully brush off his shoes before stepping onto the newly mopped floor. You turn away from him and he frowns, guilt budding in his chest as you distract yourself with the dishes. He knows how hard it is for you to have to take care of things around the house while having a bun in the oven.

“The merger bailed.” He mumbles, taking a few minutes to remember what you asked him.

“No.” You gasp, spinning to him, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. “Why? You’ve been working on this collab for months-”

“They wanted us to travel with them.” Anger once again fills his veins while recalling how disrespectfully those bastards spoke of you; a bitter smile forming on his lips. “Apparently a 7 months preganant wife doesn’t make the cut.” Fuckers. The lot of them.

“Y-You can go, I mean.” Your stuttering breaks him from his revengeful thoughts. Looking so small in his eyes with your hand over your adorable stomach and a plate of food balanced in your other hand. “I-I could let the baby spend the week at-”

What? “Where will they go?” Baekhyun panics. Why would you want your daughter to be away? Did he do something wrong? Are you—

The crashing of the plate to the floor startles him; hours of your hard work scattered like his barely contained emotions. “Where will they go?” He repeats softer, roughly carding his fingers through his ruffled hair. Did he startle you? He didn’t mean to. He’s just so—

Baekhyun raises a brow, swearing that he heard you say something in that cute way you like to utter things under your breath. His eyes widening at your state, hands outstretched to help you back up only to stop, a memory occurring to him. You screamed at him every time he attempted to help you pick up fallen food during the earlier months of your pregnancy. Proclaiming that you were ‘capable of doing it’ yourself while sternly pointing him towards the cupboard that you keep the cleaning supplies.

“I-I got work in the morning,” Baekhyun mumbles. The last thing he wants is to fight you. He doesn’t want to risk what regretful words he’d spew if he stays any longer; quickly going over to open the supply cupboard for you and setting the first-aid kit on the countertop just in case you accidentally prick yourself. He tentatively retrieves his coat from the rack, meekly uttering, “I’ll be at Chanyeol’s. Don’t wait up, okay?” While pulling the door closed behind him.

♡

Yeah, he’s still upset. Very upset. He’s been working on that stupid merger for 4 months. Hours upon hours spent worried over how he’s going to pay off student loans, provide for your growing family, and help your little stars through college. The weight of all the responsibilities weighing so heavily on his shoulders that he has resorted to shutting down and shoving his own feelings aside. He’s got a beautiful daughter, a beloved wife and another little one on the way. All of them are depending on him and he cannot under any circumstances afford to disappoint them. For what is the sun without it’s pretty planets circling around, leaning on it for stability and warmth? Nothing. But a big ball of pent up energy marching on its own journey to collapsing upon itself.

Suddenly, the sky is covered with dark clouds; the bottom dropping out from under the fluffy accumulations of rain. It’s pouring out; the heavy droplets pelting down on the roof remind him of all the times he went out his way to go pick you up in the middle of storms such as this one. Because it’s not safe for you to be driving out in the rain — driving out in the rain.

Baekhyun’s eyes widen, ripping a new hole in his coat as he rushes to put it back on, throwing the front door open with half the mind to lock it behind him because you always chastise him over leaving the house vulnerable — but right now you’re fucking vulnerable!

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters, yanking the door to his black Audi open just as the squealing of car tires in the distance reaches his ears.

Baekhyun freezes, grip tight on the doorframe and hair matted to his forehead. Because just up the road is a car accident with what he swears is your car and it doesn’t look pretty.

“Oh my god.” A neighbor gasps, her leashed puppy cradled in her frozen grasp.

Baekhyun doesn’t stop to think; he fucking runs.

An ambulance is already weaving through the crowd as idiomatic bystanders block their way to the flipped over white Honda surrounded by broken glass on the sidewalk. The shrill screams of a frightened child — his child! — has him pushing his way through the crowd. Scrambling to the driver’s side of the car.

He wrenches the dented back car door open, tentatively brushing glass away from her tear streaked cheeks. Thanking every higher being that she only has small scratches on her little face. He scoops her out of the ruined carseat and cradles her to his chest, trying to soothe her as paramedics rush over to pull you from the car. Fuck. You —

Baekhyun’s head snaps up, wordlessly hurrying over to them on quick feet while they pull your unconscious form from under layers of broken metal and glass. A glance alone shows that you weren’t so lucky to leave the accident with only a few scratches on your face. No, there’s large pieces of glass distorting your delicate skin and a waterfall of red washing away in the rain.

Baekhyun barely hears a word that the person next to him is saying, only catching the phrases “child” and “hospital” before snapping out of his trace. “W-Wait!” He walks as fast as he can with your shaking daughter in his arms, “I’m the husband, I—” He chokes, eyes stinging with the realization of what is unfolding in front of him. Your limp body being lifted into the back of the ambulance. “I’m her husband.”

The paramedics usher him inside, offering a seat and asking to check up on the trembling toddler in his arms.

“How far along is she?” One of them asks, pulling a stethoscope from around her neck.

“7 m-months.” His voice comes out hoarse, a lump forming in his throat as he watches her slide it over your stomach. The lack of reaction from the little life inside of you makes more tears pool in the corners of his eyes. “I-Is the baby okay?”

She only gives him a solemn look, uttering some type of medical code to one of the other paramedics jotting down notes on a clipboard. “We’re almost at the hospital. Can I take a look at her?”

Baekhyun blinks through his blurry vision, reluctantly handing the small girl in his arms over to her. He shivers, just now feeling the coldness of his soaked clothes; swiping his drenched hair out of his eyes while graciously taking the thick blanket offered to him.

You couldn’t arrive at the hospital fast enough for him. He doesn’t know how much longer his heart can take seeing you like this — like a shattered irreplaceable vase missing the pieces to put it back together. Lifeless. Never to be the same again.

He barely registers the commotion as the paramedics roll you out of the ambulance and through the lobby, only stopping when a nurse holds him back from following you down the hall. “I’m sorry, Sir. You can’t go back there.”

“I—”

She swiftly shakes her head, standing her ground as he feels as if his whole world — his whole life is being flipped upside down. Less than an hour ago, your glowing figure was smiling up at him. Less than an hour ago, he thought that nothing else could get worse than the stress he faces every day. Yet here he is now, helplessly watching you and your daughter get taken further into the hospital — farther away from him. The man who vowed to be with you; in sickness and in health. In times of hardships and your greatest accomplishments. The same man who swore that no matter what came your way, you would face everything together—

Together…

Baekhyun plops himself down in an uncomfortable plastic chair; his head hanging low. How could he have forgotten such a thing? All the promises of sticking by your side through everything and anything. Of trust, leaning on each other — communication! When’s the last time he told you about his tiring days at work just to end up smiling by the end of the night while held in your loving arms? Or heard you complain about your feet hurting only for you to giggle soon afterward when he accidentally tickles you with his diligent massage? Or dared to reach across the body-shaped pillow that has taken up space in your bed to pull you to his chest. Did he really let himself get carried away by his own self doubts and fears?

Baekhyun’s breath hitches, his heart stopping in its tracks. Did he seriously hide himself away thinking the pain of being unable to reach him wouldn’t hurt you? Wouldn’t make you… You want to leave him?

He doesn’t know how long he sits there. Surrounded by the endless amounts of people being rolled in the never-ending stream of patients in the hosiptal. It seems as if everyone has gotten into bad accidents today, but no amount of blood and body disfigurement can erase the horrific image of your helpless child — of your lifeless form being carried out of that battered car.

“Mr. Byun?”

Baekhyun’s head shoots up to the light blue and white dressed man in front of him. “T-That’s me,” He croaks, throat hurting from holding back tears while hurrying to stand up.

“I’m Dr. Kim,” The man holds out his hand, introducing himself — uselessly, Baekhyun thinks.

“H-How are they?” He manages between shaky breaths, five seconds away from crumbling into a heap on the porcelain white floor.

“Your daughter and son are okay.” The doctor states calmly, flipping through papers on his clipboard.

Baekhyun breathes a small sigh of relief, heart calming down a little. “And my wife?” His tone hopeful; eyes pleading. The uncertain expression on the doctor’s face enough to knock the wind out of him, “Follow me.”

He trails after the man; right on his heels, gulping down the panic steadily rising in his chest as they turn the corner at the end of the long hallway. The doctor opens the door, wordlessly stepping aside to let him enter the crowded room. At least three nurses are stationed in the room. One fussing over a small bundle in their arms and another with his daughter outstretching her arms towards the bed on the right side of the room. The sight of you nearly sends him falling to his knees.

“Your son is 5 pounds,” The brunette softly says over the loud cries of your daughter. “He has to spend a few days in the NICU until we—”

“Give her here.” He demands, arms held out to take his daughter away from the blonde nurse struggling to hold her squirming form. She’s quick to hand the child over, watching enviously as the little girl settles in her father’s arms, loud wails simmering down into quiet whimpers.

Baekhyun slowly makes his way over to the bed, carefully lowering her down between the spaces free from all the tubes attached to your pale form. She wraps her arms around your bandaged arm, doe eyes still brimming with tears. He hates the panicked confusion swirling in her shiny orbs. Hates how lifeless you look against the standardized hospital sheets and the gauze wrapped around your head.

“She lost a lot of blood.” The doctor tentatively notes, dismissing the nurses from the room. The brunette sets the baby down in the bassinet next to the bed before departing as well. “And hit her head pretty hard on the dashboard… The baby had to be taken by C-section,” He adds, noticing Baekhyun’s eyes drifting over to the little one squirming in the bassinet. “We want to keep an eye on his vitals for a few days.”

“And my daughter?” Baekhyun mumbles, he can’t bear to raise his voice. Can’t bear the slow beeps of your heart rate echoing around the quiet room.

“Nothing but a few scratches.” He sees the doctor raise his hand from his peripheral as if to place it on his shoulder before reconsidering it, lowering it back down with a clear of his throat. “I’ll give you some time alone.”

Baekhyun barely acknowledges his words, shaky hands reaching out to cradle your ice cold one in his own. Unmerciful tears swarming his eyes. He doesn’t hold them back this time.

“I’m sorry.” He barely registers the pain of his knees hitting the tiled floor, head bowed as he folds in on himself, weeping so hard his shoulders quake from the built up emotions rolling through him by waves. Much more choppy than the ones that lapped at your bare feet dipped into the ocean all those years ago. At the edge of the world. Where nothing else mattered but your bright smile and your heart racing against his own.

“I-I’m sorr—” He chokes, hot tears flowing down his cold cheeks. Why did he pull away from you? Why did he have to go and hurt the sole person he would lay his own life down for? What if you never wake up? How will he explain to his daughter that her mother won’t be around anymore? That your son won’t know you at all anymore? You who were strong enough to stick by his side, filled to the brim with endless bounds of unconditional love despite how he treated you instead of the actions promised within your shared vows until you couldn’t — he made it so hard that you couldn’t anymore.

“I don’t deserve you.” He sniffles, voice cracking through his trembling lips. Hands clutching tightly onto your own. “I don’t deserve you at all, but please.” He can barely talk around the waterfall of tears pelting down his face, the sting of them worse than any downpour imaginable. “Please don’t leave me alone like this, baby. D-don’t.” He reaches up to cradle your cheek in his palm; the sound of his heart breaking nearly audible in wake of the healthy glow now gone from your face. “Open your eyes,” He breathes, fingers caressing your cheek. “Open your pretty eyes, baby. Tell me your love again,” He pleads, tears wetting the sheets and the fabric of your hospital gown. “Come back to me again.”

He drops his head again when you give no signs of hearing him; his hand slipping down helplessly back to your own grasping aimlessly at his — your hand!

Baekhyun nearly gets whiplash, eyes shooting up to meet your tired ones. The relief of seeing you looking back at him has him jumping to his feet, almost tangling himself up in the tubes attached to your body if not for your quiet warning reminding him. He settles for continuing to hold onto your hand, squeezing it softly as it slowly warms up the longer it is held within his, “You came back.” He whispers, astonishment clear in his hoarse voice.

“You came after me.” You utter right back, lifting your arm to let your daughter snuggle closer into your unbandaged side.

“Of course I did,” Baekhyun’s eyes flutter all over your person, heart leaping in so much joy he wonders if you can feel it racing between your intertwined hands. “I’d die for you.” He declares, words resonating through both your chests like the meaningful ones exchanged five long years ago.

“And I’d live for you.” You proclaim right back; smile bright and eyes lighting up at the small cries of your symbol of undying love.

#Baekhyun angst #I mispelled hospital THREE TIMES glad I read over it #bbh-net #let me go take a longggg break woo #Fallen

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atsukashii · 4 years

Text

❝r.i.p to the youth❞ // e. kirishima

SYNOPSIS: ➛ The world has gone to shit and you have lost almost everyone close to you, including Kirishima

» CHARACTER PAIRING: eijiro kirishima x reader

» WORD COUNT: 5.6K cause i have no chill again

» GENRE: apocalyptic au, aged up characters

» WARNINGS: major character death, ANGST with fluff ending, blood, swearing

« masterlist || ao3 »

You were only seventeen when the world had gone to shit. You had been studying with your friends at U.A when you watched the news roll in, villains had popped up everywhere in a large scale attack. After that day, the world had never been the same. Led by Tomura Shigaraki, the league of villains now held hostage the world, ruling it in the very way they knew how. Now labelled The Purge, many of the top heroes were wiped out in the first few months, and more as it followed.

Now today, five years later, you are still trying to survive through an apocalyptic world, where ones who were only students when it started, are now leaders of rebellion… the only force to attempt to rise up against the villain dictatorship. The Rebellion Army was created by pro heroes once the fighting began, however as the years passed, there were newly inducted commanders in charge more frequently than there ever should be. You are one of them. Along with your previous schoolmates and close friends, Izuku, Shouto, Bakugou, Iida, and Momo, somehow you had all become the leaders of the rebellion army. All the previous pro heroes either having been killed or forced into solitude for their safety and the safety of the rebellion. Together, your spread out force had managed to locate some of the existing pro’s, however, they opted to be the voice of reason and advice, and decided to leave the leadership to a bunch of twenty-year-olds. You were inducted as a commander just over two years ago due to the strength of your quirk, your incredible strategic skills, and your ability to be stealthy was far greater than anyone else. You had earned that rank in a time where you didn’t want it. All you wanted was for this all to end.

Looking down at the picture in your hands, you wish you could turn back time and transport back to it. It had been a few months before The Purge began, where the only concern you had was if you were going to pass your final exams, your work-study, and your boyfriend. Not the fate of the world, or at least not until you were a pro.

In the faded image, you were shielding your eyes from the sun but had a bright grin on your face. Your thighs were draped over a shirtless male torso that had your heart hurting inside your chest. He had a carefree, teeth-bared grin on his face, his eyes squinted shut in the sunlight, as he held onto your legs to support you. He looked so happy that day, in fact, you all were. You and your class had gone to a water-park, as a time to relax and just have chaotic levels of fun. It was one of your last good memories before it all fell apart. And now, this picture with your boyfriend was your greatest treasure.

Because two years ago, villains had discovered your previous location and attacked out of the blue. It had been pure chaos and a mad scramble to evacuate and get away with as few casualties as possible. It was one of the worst days of your life. Because that day, you had been separated from your boyfriend and once the dust had settled, he was gone. You had searched for days, not eating or sleeping. The only thing on your mind was finding Eijiro Kirishima, if it was the last thing you did. You were only forced to stop when Bakugou pulled you away, kicking and screaming. Everyone had said he was dead, and that you needed to accept it, but Bakugou just reiterated the same line over and over.

‘Shitty hair wouldn’t fucking die like that. We’ll find him y/n.” yet here you were, two years down the line, with still no sign of him. So like everyone else, you had accepted the fact that he was no longer going to be around, and when you found yourself deep within a pit of depression, it was your friends who pulled you from it, helping you take a step every day. You weren’t over it, and you knew you wouldn’t ever be. For that red-head who was sunshine personified was the love of your life, and he always would be.

A knock comes from your closed door, and hesitantly, you shift your gaze from the photo in your hands to the figure now poking their head through the partially cracked doorway. Momo’s kind smile meets you, and when she sees the tattered picture in your hands, it morphs into something soft but laced with pain. You aren’t the only one who is hurting from his passing, it has affected your friends and comrades too. There was too much death these days, too much for people to bear.

“It was a very fun day.” She says, walking over to where you sit on your bed, before sitting next to you. It had been one of your best memories with Kirishima, yes, but also with your other friends. Some who weren’t around now…

“And so different to life now.” You reply, pushing the picture back under your pillow before you turn to your friend and fellow leading commander. “What’s going on?” There had to be something for her to come and get you during your break.

“Shouto wants to move the stealth operation to today. He says he’s got a bad feeling about tomorrow.” You’re not surprised by the idea, so you just nod, not questioning your friends’ instincts for a second. Being in charge of such a large operation, all six of your close friends have learnt the inner workings of each other's minds. And when someone has a gut feeling, a hunch, you follow it, because nine times out of ten, it’s right. And in a world ruled by villains, being wrong means death, and that’s something you don’t want to see happen ever again. “We want you to lead it.” Of course.

The argument sits heavy on your tongue, but something inside you like always can’t seem to let it out. Maybe it was the guilt, or the fear of not being there to stop something bad from happening again. Because not long after you had lost Kirishima, you had lost your mentor, your work-study agency leader, your friend, in a stealth mission gone wrong. You had almost died that day, unable to save your mentor. Instead, Keigo Takami had saved you, and you weren’t going to let his sacrifice go to waste. You were going to protect every single one of your friends, even if it meant you died in the process.

“Alright.” Together, you both stand and begin the walk to the meeting room. The second you walk in, your eyes meet your four commanding friends, as well as three others. You smile at Jiro, Sero and Shoji before sitting down at a vacant seat. “What’s the plan?” You ask the quiet room, listening as Momo points towards a map of the city in the centre of the table, explaining the plan.

“Jiro’s ear jacks are going to eavesdrop on anything audible inside the warehouse. Shoji and Sero, you are on lookout, and Y/n, you are on escape routes.” Everyone in the stealth team had quirks that allowed them to do their job quickly and efficiently… but you were just there as back up, as a walking bomb ready to go off if something detrimental should occur.

You’d lost half of your quirk the day you had almost died, and witnessed your mentor sacrifice himself for you. Those flames, ones you can manipulate yourself- but failed to, burnt your wings until the weight that had rested between your shoulder blades your whole life, was gone. Now, you could manipulate fire, but hadn’t used it in almost a year, instead, focusing on hand to hand combat. After that day, you could barely glance at flames without either making yourself sick, or having flashbacks powerful enough that they seemed as if you were actually trapped back in the past. The sensation… the scent… the burning… the screaming.

“Live, little firebird. Save us all.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a sigh before standing to your feet. Everyone in the room looks in your direction, and you look at Bakugou, one of your closest friends and look into his eyes, trying to ignore the nagging thought that they look similar to Kirishima’s.

“We leave at 22:00.” Momo nods to you across the table and you look to your friends who are risking their lives alongside you. “Let’s get some dirt on these assholes.”

҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉

“We don’t get closer than ten metres to any entrance or exits of the building.” You whisper, using your very very little air manipulation to help your words travel to your friend’s ears. You see all three of them nod in response as you creep down the abandoned alleyway. The world is so quiet, the only noise was the slight breeze and trash being moved across the street from it. Everything about this area was abandoned and for good reason. You had discovered through one of the rebellion’s many spaced out informants, that they had seen S class league members frequently visiting this warehouse. This mission wasn’t to take more than two hours, that’s what Bakugou had drilled into your brain.

“Don’t be fucking late because I’m not coming to look for your dumb ass.” You weren’t a moron, which is what you had responded with and you could have sworn the blonde wanted to punch you in the face. It was the usual really, the urge and not the actual physical blow - that never happened. However, you knew that if your team didn’t show up, the blonde would come looking for you and not stopping until he dragged you all back and then tried to kill you himself for being stupid.

Normally, other than villain activity, it is quiet in this part of town. The previous residents having abandoned their homes the second the league of villains moved in. So you are surprised when Shoji gestured to you only thirty minutes in.

‘Figure. 2 blocks.’ He gestured with his hands, not risking to speak so close to the building. Sure you are on the second floor of the building next door, but with Jiro’s quirk in use, you aren’t going to distract her either.

‘Villain?’ You question, using both your hands to communicate the thought back. Shoji shakes his head and instead waves you over to his position. Silently, you manoeuvring until you are next to him, looking out the broken out window at where he is pointing - straight towards a figure staring at the building you’re currently listening on. The person is completely decked out in all black, and you definitely different recognise them, not that you could make out much of their figure other than the fact they were tall and bulk, probably male. If he were a villain, surely he could have just walked towards the building instead of peering at it like a predator watching its prey.

In silence, Shoji and you watch as the figure moves towards the building, carefully using the shadows to hide their body as they slip between alleyways and across the street. Okay, so not a villain… Suddenly the figure disappears behind an alleyway and you look at Shoji with a frown. What the hell was someone that wasn’t a part of the rebellion doing here?

From what you were aware, you were the only current branch within this area, the rebellion spreading wide across both Japan and the world, all under different titles and names, however, you were the leading force in this city, and possibly Japan. You would know if there was another organisation within the city limits. So who the hell was that?

Jiro taps the floor twice and your eyes look to Sero, holding his binoculars, directed straight at the warehouse. They were wrapping up. You tap your wrist to signify that you were to head out in one minute, when a gasp suddenly breaks the silence. Oxygen leaves your lungs as Shoiji tackles you to the floor. Wheezing, you don’t question in when heat engulfs the world outside the window. Your ribs scream in pain from the impact, but over your friend’s shoulder, you see the bright blue flames lick across the ceiling through the open window. Blue flames.

Your screams bounce across the concrete walls of what once had been an office building but was now nothing but rubble. Blue flames lick over your shoulder blades and neck. Your spine, engulfed in a pain you never thought possible, but what has you screaming is the image in front of you. You look up into Dabi’s smirking face, his blue flames swirling around his scarred fist. “This is the end of the line for you gorgeous.” He raises his hands in front of your face and for a second you close your eyes, praying for it all to be over. But then there’s a thump, and you watch in horror as Hawk’s - beaten to a pulp, lands in front of you, his scarlet red wings spread out behind him shielding you from the blue flames.

“Live, little firebird. Save us all.”

The last of his feathers grip your clothes, and you slam out of the rubble, dragging you across town as fast as they can. You cry out and beg to stop as one by one, they fall to the ground, losing their power, until you lay on the sidewalk outside the warehouse on your stomach, trying not to scream. You knew your wings were gone, the heavyweight you had held up your entire life wasn’t there. Only pain, god so much pain, you wanted to die. You had only passed out after you’d heard people mumbling above you, and at that point, you hadn’t cared if it were villains… you just wanted it to end.

Those blue flames… They had brought down your old compound that day, and you had been flying people out of the burning building when you had bumped into Kirishima, about to sprint into battle to join Bakugou and Shouto. You had wanted to beg him to stop, to just get out of the building, but that’s not who you were, and it definitely wasn’t who he was.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll be back. Get everyone out and I’ll meet you at the safe-point soon.” Kirishima says, kissing you on the forehead before racing out. You hadn’t even had time to tell him you loved him like usual, before moving to pull more people from the wreckage and transporting them. And that was something you would never forgive yourself for. You let Kirishima run into that burning building.

Once you had gotten the last people out, there was a loud crunch, followed by a boom. You and Sero turn around, only to see the roof of the warehouse begin to collapse. Figures flee from the fire, and one is heading towards you at an alarmingly fast rate. The second they reach your position, you do a headcount, tracing peoples faces until you realise there are only four of them. There should be five. Whipping your head back and forth, you quickly spin around, scanning everyone here for that head of red hair...but he’s not there. Where is Kirishima? Where the hell is your boyfriend?

You then look to the very singed and exhausted as-blonde before you. “Where is Eijiro?” Bakugou frowns at you, before looking around, his movements getting more frantic with every passing second.

“He was right there…” You hear hum mutter, only for another loud bang to come from the old warehouse.

No, god please no...The situation finally hits you, and you jump to action, your wings propelling you forward towards the burning building. You hold out your hands and try to smother the flames with your quirk, but theres too much, and its burning through the building to quickly.

Your only a few feet from the inferno when you’re tackled to the ground. You try desperately and wildly to shake the weight off, but soot covered hands have pinned your wings so you can’t move.

“Get off me! HE’S STILL IN THERE! I NEED TO GET HIM OUT! KIRISHIMA!”

“And die yourself in the process? There’s nothing you can do Y/n.” Bakugou’s voice is in your ear, and you scream out in frustration. The noise is so loud, coming from a place deep inside you that it hurts your vocal chords when it comes out. There's another crunch, and you watch helplessly as the roof completely collapses, finally succumbing to the flames, and the second it falls, part of you dies with it.

“EIJIRO!” You scream again, trying to shake the blonde off you.

“I’m so sorry Y/n.”

“No, please no.” Your voice is barely there, unable to be any louder. The flames leaving nothing in their wake, devouring everything it comes into contact with. “Not him, not him.” You repeat the words over and over, as you rest your head on the ground. He’s not dead, he can’t be. I can’t- I can’t do this without him. Your heart is pounding inside your ears, unable to hear anything else, and your lungs can't seem to hold any air at all. Before you know it, black dots line your vision, and then everything is dark. Before you pass out, the last thing you remember was the flickering of blue flames.

Those blue flames took your mentor from you, they took your wings, your freedom, they took the love of your life from you. You had nothing left. And now, those blue flames are going to pay.

For a year and a half, you haven’t touched your flames. You haven't activated the power that prowls under your skin like a beast. You had smothered it, tried to calm it, bottled it up for months, waiting for a moment to release it. The second you lock eyes with Sero, you nod before rising up off the ground.

“Get them to the checkpoint now.” You hiss, just as a chuckle echoes from down on the floor below.

“Running away so easily?”

“He’s right below us,” Jiro whispers, her ear-jacks still pressed into the concrete. She looks up at you, fear her eyes. How the hell do we get out of here alive? Luckily enough, you already have an escape route.

“Sero, now!” You yell out, aiming your hands at the floor and releasing a breath. All that unrelenting anger, frustration, grief, fury bubbles to the surface, and the second you see Sero swinging out the window with Jiro and Shoji in tow, you unleash yourself upon the world. Your pent up emotions spread to life in the form of a white flame, immediately melting the floor beneath you, and unfortunately missing the scarred man that it now reveals.

“We’ve been looking for you, little firebird,” Dabi smirks, even whilst standing in the middle of a world of flames. “The name’s kind of ironic isn’t it, considering how you lost your wings.” You know he’s goading you, so instead, you raise a hand, your own flames swirling around your fingers almost resemble lightning in their color.

“Ironic, considering you’re about to be burnt alive.” You hiss out before releasing your flames upon him. Dabi quickly unleashes a flash of power, only for those cursed blue flames to become overwhelmed by a wave of white melting hot fire. The smug look disappears in his eyes as he takes you in. You can feel the fire bubbling inside your veins, spilling out across your body like a shield, only not burning you. “You took everything from me,” Your throat aches from breathing in the smoke of the building. “and now, I will take your life.” You shout, letting your quirk redirect itself partially to your feet, sending you flying through the air where you fire white-hot fireball after fireball in the raven-haired man’s direction.

He would not survive this. You would make sure of it.

Your blasts were tearing up the building around you, and the warehouse you had been spying on, yet you did not care. You would set the whole world on fire before you gave him the chance to get away. The second you boost yourself out of the building and into the open courtyard between the buildings, is when you finally notice the fact that they’re barely standing, one slight movement from completely crumbling around you. Focusing back on Dabi, he looks at the buildings before relaxing his stance and glaring back at you.

“Don’t fool yourself, you can’t kill me. You’re nothing but a pathetic waste of a quirk.” He spits back, releasing a volley of blue flames towards you. Placing both your hands above your head, palms facing the sky, you swiftly release a blaze of power as you bring down your hands towards the floor, effectively slicing the incoming blue flames in half like a hot knife slicing through butter. You weren’t going to talk anymore, instead, you would fight him until he felt as much pain as you once had. Until Dabi knew how you had felt every day for the past two years since he had taken everything from you. Since he had ripped the love of your life from your grasp and permanently forced your feet to the ground.

Pieces of debris began to fall to the floor around you from collapsing buildings. Raising your arms either side of your body, you grin a feral smile at Dabi and aim at the two buildings, knowing fully well that when they collapse, they will bury you both. Quickly catching on to your idea, the man in front of you hesitates, only for a second, as if shocked by your actions.

“I’ll see you in hell, Dabi.” You release your flames and watch as the world crumbles around you.

҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉

At first, there is nothing but silence, your body weightless and mind empty of all thought. Is this death? Everything is dark until there’s a shout that echoes so loudly in your brain it hurts, and you feel something grip you tightly but you can’t tell where... and then… Nothing…

When you come to again your eyes blink open instinctively, and you find yourself staring at a concrete ceiling that you’ve seen many times before. The infirmary?

You blink a few times, vanishing the blur from your eyes. You can hear the scraping of furniture coming from outside the room, but surprisingly, as you glance around, you’re the only one in here.

Trying to sit up, suddenly your ribs screech in protest, forcing a hissing breath from your lungs. Jesus christ! You pause once you force your aching body upright, and glance around the room again, giving yourself a chance to let the pain settle before moving again. An IV machine stands empty next to your bed, and a bandage wrapped around… well your everything. The white compression cloth fits your ribs like a second skin as well as your arm. You don’t even remember getting injured… All you remember was unleashing hell on Dabi and bringing down a building around you. You were ready to sacrifice yourself to take out one of the main league members like any of your friends would have done.

The only questions that matter right now though are did you succeed? And how weren’t you dead? You can’t seem to come to an answer for either though.

A loud muffled noise comes from outside, interrupting your thoughts. Curiosity gets the better of you, as you manage to pull yourself off the bed, ignoring your aching body’s outcry. The second your bare feet meet the cold concrete flooring, you can’t hold in the wince as the temperature makes your bones groan. You push on, slipping through the closed doorway, and glancing around, trying to track the source of the noise. You can’t make out the conversations, not until you’re passing through the halls, hunched over and holding your ribs that ache with every slight movement. It’s only once you’ve been walking around for too long do you deduce that the sounds are coming from the main common room of the warehouse. As you head in that direction, you pass a mirror and actually cringe at the image that stares back.

Yikes.

Any dust and grime that had covered you from the rubble you had most likely been pulled from had been cleared, but you still look as if you have been dragged backward through hell. Small scratches pepper your face, and a massive black eye is forming on the right side of your face. If you thought you could move your arms high enough without wanting to cry, you might have prodded it to make sure it was real. Thank god for small mercies, you suppose.

As you draw closer to the large open doorway of the common room, you see a few people gathered around the entrance, with smiles on their faces. The look confuses you enough to force your feet to scuff along the floor as you stop. The second the noise meets their ears, their heads snap in your direction, and those smiles become grins that are slightly terrifying. How long has it been since you’ve seen faces like that?

“Y/n, you’re awake! I should get someone from the medical team, stay there a second.” An older woman says before quickly jogging back down the hall from which you came. More sound spills out of the room and this time, you can finally catch parts of the conversation.

“I’m going to kill you myself.” Bakugou growls, which doesn’t surprise you. But the fact that his words don’t meet his tone is what surprises you enough to force your legs to move, and to step into the room. Right away, your eyes are drawn towards the cluster of people in the middle of the room. First, you see Sero and Jiro, both looking a bit dishevelled, but mostly okay which has you sighing in relief. The next is the fact that everyone was here… but why? Between the heads of your other friends and comrades, you catch a glimpse of the fiery blonde that has pure murder in his eyes. However, he doesn’t act upon and instead reaches forward and brings someone into a tight embrace.

Oxygen abandons your lungs and for a second, you’re positive that you are hallucinating. Your body is no longer responsive and your mind is an empty void as you try to take in the person before you. He’s still across the room, but you’re asphyxiating under his very presence. His red hair is now black, most likely due to the fact hair dye wasn’t on the list of top priorities of anyone these days, and has also grown out enough to be pulled off his face. It’s so different… but those crimson eyes, ones that gleam like light peaking through rubies is the same… You are dreaming, or dead… you have to be… You had watched your boyfriend die, you had watched Eijiro Kirishima run into a burning building. You had seen the structure fold like paper cards, and you had searched the rubble for days after. You had grieved for two years for the man you had loved since you had first met him in the U.A entrance exams.

There is no logical reason as to how he is now grinning at Bakugou, slapping him on the back with tears filling his eyes. It’s not possible.

It’s not, you searched for so long…

The second he pulls the blonde back into another embrace which earns a string of curses and some laughs, his eyes finally meet yours over Bakugou’s shoulder, and you find yourself transporting back to the day you had lost him.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll be back”. He never came back,

“Get everyone out” You had.

“I’ll meet you at the safe-point soon.” He never did.

You’re gasping for air as your heartbeat thunders inside your head. It blocks out all other noise, and black dots dance within your vision. All of a sudden people are looking at you, and you can see Izuku’s lips moving in your direction, his eyes full of panic as he takes you in but you can’t hear him. You can’t seem to look from the ghost in front of you. No… he’s dead… Kirishima was dead. You have grieved him, you have cried over him, you have mourned the love of your life and still were…

Stepping out of Bakugou’s embrace, the man slowly walks towards you with caution, as if not to spook you. Well, that’s too late because I’m not seeing ghosts so I’m definitely off my rocker. With every step he takes towards you, you find the rise and fall of your chest gaining more and more speed, trying to take in more air, but failing to do so. Within seconds, he’s feet away from you, and you can’t take it. You had wanted this, so much… but it was impossible. Shaking your head, you hold your hands up in front of you to stop him from moving closer. Tears are flooding down your cheeks uncontrollably, and when he takes another step, you physically flinch back, a broken noise emerging from your lips that causes him to freeze. No, you’re dreaming! Wake up y/n! Maybe you’re in hell, and you are going to be forced to relive this again and again, only to lose him. If that’s true… Your eyes roam over Kirishima, looking almost the same as the day you lost him, and you know then your heart can’t take much more. You can’t take it.

“I- I can’t - I can’t…” You know you’re not making sense, and you’re not even sure if your words are actually understandable. But the pain and anguish in his red eyes is so similar to your own, it makes looking at him hurt even more. Kirishima finally walks forwards once more, until he is close enough to hold you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stares down at you with so much affection and fondness in his eyes, and so much heartache you feel an echo of it inside your own chest.

“Sorry it took me so long to come back angel, I got a little lost.” oh my god. He says, trying to break the sombre mood with a joke, but you just fall to your knees, weeping and sobbing so hard you can’t breathe. In a split second he’s there holding you, crushing you to his chest so tightly, all you can hear is his heart and all you can smell is his scent. Oh my god, he’s here. He’s actually alive. The thought makes you cry even harder. Oh my god, he is alive.

Eijiro’s alive. Your brain begins to piece it all together. When you had brought the building down… someone grabbing you, a shout. It was him.

You pull back, your trembling hands cupping his wet cheeks as you search his face for any signs that it isn’t him, that it's nothing but a cruel dream. But the pure love swirling in his crimson red eyes and the tears running tracks down his cheeks are enough of an answer. “How I- you didn’t come back. Why? I needed you! And I thought you had died! I thought he had killed you like Hawks… I needed you Eiji, and god I missed you, so so much!” You manage to get out between the sobbing. Your mouth is moving on its own at this point, and you can’t keep up with what it’s saying. You have so much to say, so much to tell him and feel as if you don’t say it now, you’ll suffocate under its weight.

“It’s a long story sweetheart, but I’m here. I’m never leaving your side ever again.” You clutch his shirt beneath your palms, your weeping quieting slightly, and you rest your forehead to his chest, just relishing in the heartbeat you feel beneath your hands. He’s alive. Eijiro’s alive. Your brain repeats it on a loop as if trying to forever engrave the fact into your brain so it will finally sink in that this is reality. You will no longer have to experience a day without his smile, a night without his warmth, a second without his heart.

“I love you. I love you so much, and I missed you so much Eiji I can’t-.” You whisper breaks again as you squeeze your eyes closed, trying to stop another wave of sobs from breaking through. A warm hand gently lifts your chin, and you find yourself staring back up at your first and only love. He’s alive.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before rubbing his nose against yours, his eyes not wavering from your own, as if he blinks, you’ll be gone. “I love you so much y/n, I will always come back to you. Always.”

You couldn’t care that you were in a room full of people, you couldn’t even care if villains showed up out of nowhere. Kirishima was back, he was whole and he was home.

#major character death #blood #swearing #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #eijiro x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #eijiro kirishima fanfic #kirishima eijiro fanfic #kirishima fanfic #eijiro fanfic #bnha #mha #lolswrites #lolsplaysbingo #eijiro kirishima angst #angst with fluff ending

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haikyuu-philia · 4 years

Text

Dancing in a Dirty Puddle | Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

A typical case of 'It sounded much better in my head', but I wanted to share it with you anyways!

Words: 1755

Summary: Going with the headcanon about Sakusa being germaphobic, my head came up with this scenario :P

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There were many things that Sakusa wouldn't do. Simply shaking someone else's hand could make him reach his limits, if he wasn't wearing gloves or didn't have sanitizer on him. But this never stopped him from doing what he certainly wanted to do.

And this list happened to be a lot longer than the one with the situations he was struggling with.

As his teacher went on to explain the next math problem that the boy had already solved quite a while ago, he watched the raindrops on the window to his left. This morning had been unexpectedly perfect until the grey clouds had appeared at the horizon.

Nearly silent thuds echoed in his ears while his eyes followed the line of one of the new droplets.

A sigh slipped out of his mouth to be caught by his facial mask. Today would be rather exhausting for him since human interaction couldn't be avoided. First school, then practice and later a meet-up at the local library with some classmates to finish a group project.

At least the rain would wash off all the bacteria of the people he would run into on his way to the unusual location. Many considered it only a detour, for him it was the opportunity to catch a terminal disease.

Before the thoughts could take over, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to have a panic attack in the classroom.

Some things just had to be done, like that biology project.

By the time practice had come to an end, some rays of sunshine broke through the gloomy blanket above his head. But the blue sky was still nowhere to be seen.

Carefully he made his way to the concreted paths of the school ground to not step into a puddle or - worse - faceplank into one. A shiver ran down his spine as he cleaned his hands with a sanitized wipe. Who knew in whose mouths the air had been earlier.

"Sakusa! Mind if we walk together again?" You, one of many classmates and member of his assigned group, waved from the school gate.

There you were, his personal ray of sunshine to save him from the boringness. Maybe the assignment had been of use for him anyways.

He shrugged his shoulders in response, though that seemed to be enough to get a smile from you. Everytime this happened, he stared at you for a second and looked away the next. Whatever it was, he couldn't tell whether you were the weird one in this scenario for causong such a reaction or him for acting this way.

Like the past two Fridays that your group had met up at the library to work on the project, he walked next to you with a safety distance of two imaginary people in between.

On your way to the meeting you asked him about his day and he responded with a short reply, mostly telling you the exact same thing as the other days. His hands in his pockets he watched you from the corner of his eyes whenever you spoke.

So he immediately noticed as soon as you had stopped in your tracks.

"Woah, how beautiful! Don't you agree, Sakusa?", you awed at the sight ahead of you.

The street on your right, Sakusa and a brick wall to your left a big cherry tree was looming over the side walk. In front of you the grey stones were covered in pink cherry blossoms that the wind had carried away.

Nevertheless the tree shone in the most beautiful colors from white to nearly red while some leaves still dripped a bit due to the heavy rain earlier.

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and went a few steps ahead. The device in your hand you stretched towards the sky as much as you could to capture the natural beauty that you were witnessing right there.

"Damnit, I'm not tall enough to get the wall out of the picture", you hissed between your breaths.

Sakusa watched your efforts from afar. How you were balancing on your tiptoes, arms high into the air to get the perfect angle and how you were failing in your opinion. In this position he would only have to place his hands around your waist to rise you up a tiny bit more.

Inside his pockets his fingers tingled while his feet nearly took action before his brain stepped in. The thoughts of where your jacket had been today, when it had been washed the last time and the amount of bacteria that might be attached to it took over.

Even though you were only a call away, he froze next to you. With his eyes fixated on your blazer, his chest tightened when he tried to suppress the urge to sanitize his hands.

"This will do", you finally exclaimed. "Thanks for the wait!"

Yet again with this big grin on your face, that looked so much happier than on anyone else's, you turned towards him.

The remaining minutes of the walk went by without another incident. Sometimes he would nod to agree with your statement, then a time would follow where you just continued to walk in silence.

While more and more rays of sunshine won the battle against the seemingly undefeatable dark, Sakusa found himself lost in the recaps of what had happened back there.

Sure, he had experienced moments of paralysis before. But in contrast to those he couldn't stop thinking about it now.

About how his actions could have changed the events for the better and how he could have been the one to make you smile even more.

The work on the presentation for school brought him some surprisingly welcomed distraction. It still didn't manage to make him forget about the wave of thoughts sweeping away his sanity.

For the first time in forever he actively noticed that he only touched his own things. The pens, the ruler, the scissors.

If someone else accidentally grabbed them, he would have to clean them or never get in contact with them again.

Nobody of the group made a comment about his reflex to use a baby wipe once he had touched someone else's belongings. Additionally, he didn't take off his mask in a secure place like a library as thousands of people had been there before.

To get a book from the shelves he grabbed a tissue first to protect his hand from direct contact. Everything else raised his blood pressure on the spot.

So he busied himself with writing note cards for his group in a neat handwriting.

When he stepped outside the building after finishing the project, he felt like being able to properly breath for the first time in hours. During the stay it had rained some more, leaving the air freshly cleaned from pollution.

"Let's head for the station. It's late already", he announced to you.

Meanwhile you stretched to make the exhaustion vanish from your limbs. At home you planned to simply eat dinner before collapsing on the bed.

Pretty much aware of the tired look in your eyes, Sakusa didn't say a word. As you didn't either, silence ruled again.

Thanks to that it wasn't hard to hear a speeding car approaching you two from behind.

Before it passed you in the blink of an eye, Sakusa noticed the puddle on the side of the street, which instantly splashed into all directions once the wheels had hit it. The boy felt the urge to throw up as soon as single drops of water reached his face.

With an unsteady breath and shaking hands he pulled the baby wipes out of his backpack to clean his forehead. Next was the mask that he switched for a completely new one.

Only when he had discarded the used supplies into a zipper bag especially for that purpose, he checked the rest of his body.

"I'm sorry, Sakusa", you mumbled with a breaking giggle. "I didn't manage to shield you from all of it."

Then it hit him what had happened.

You were standing in front of him, the back of your clothes and parts of your hair soaking wet. Nevertheless you tried to smile at him while checking the damage the water had done to your appearance.

"Are you okay? Most of the water hit me, I guess. So I'm sure that you will only need to wash your uniform once and take a shower later."

"Why?", he replied without breaking eye contact with you.

At the same time you wiped your face with your bare hands, making him shiver at the mere look of it. You even tried to squish some water out of your wet hair.

"I've noticed that you don't get along with dirt, physical contact and everything of that sort", you explained calmly. "The bullet of discomfort was shot and I took it for you."

Offering you his help by throwing single baby wipes at you to finally make you stop touching your dirty face with your even dirtier hands, he didn't know what to answer.

Instead he grabbed a tissue for himself and opened the zipper of his sports bag with it. He would certainly not take the risk of touching potentially stained metal.

"Here. Take this."

Sakusa was holding his yellow-green trainings jacket towards you. Thanks to the face mask his expression seemed the same as always, though it did hide the uneasy snarl of his lips.

"Thanks", you welcomed the offer wholeheartedly "I will wash it and return it on Monday!"

It was this moment when the boy had made you smile simply because of him for the first time. The way your face lightened up once you had put on the jacket was directed towards him and only him at this very moment.

Sure to say that his lips formed a small smile as he found the neatly wrapped jacket in his shoe locker on Monday.

Immediately after opening the little package, a nice scent of flowers reached his nose through the face mask. You were nowhere to be seen, but your image popped up in his head as well as the memory of you standing underneath the cherry tree a few days prior.

Surprisingly, it didn't occur to him that you most likely hadn't worn gloves while wrapping his jacket.

His mind had other priorities to think about. Including the issue about the comforting warmth inside of his chest whenever you were around.

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Posted: April 8th 2020 | Requests: Open | Match-ups: Closed

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #germaphobia #itachiyama #reader insert

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omega-girl-in-heat · 4 years

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your first heat

Before we start

I know your first heat can be scary, especially if you have to spend it alone because you are not in a relationship yet or because you do not feel comfortable enough around your partner yet. Both of these are very common scenarios as most omega start their first heat around the age of 16.

Luckily you'll learn everything you need to know about your first heat in this post!

If you already have a mate and will spend your first heat with them, look up my other post "First Heat with a Mate" after reading through this.

Now let's get started!

What is a heat?

The heat is the most fertile period of every omega and usually occurs about 4 times a year, so typically every 3 months.

How do I know if my heat is about to start?

It is very very difficult to predict your first heat, honestly, as the symptoms vary from omega to omega. Lots of omegas confuse their first heat with being sick at first, as the symptoms might be quite similar.

Typical heat symptoms include:

Upset stomach, cramps, light headache/feeling dizzy and of course the most common one: the urge to eat a lot. And by that I mean A LOT

If your first heat catches you by surprise then you won't be able to buy a heat supply of food beforehand, but if you are still interested in it or plan on buying food for your next few heats read my post "What food to get for heats, before, during and after "

How do you know your heat has started?

The first thing that will happen right at the beginning of your heat is probably that you will produce a very high amount of slick and that you will therfore feel very very wet. A few minutes later you will feel hot all over your body and soon after that the typical horny feeling will kick in. The ones of you who can smell yourself will also notice the instant change in scent to something you have never smelled on yourself before (typically sweet and full of arousal)

What to do now?

If you are in public, go home immediately.

If you are in school, quickly excuse yourself and go to the nursery. They will send you home and maybe even provide you with some supplies, such as food, blankets or contraception if you ask for it. If they do not offer to escort you home or if you deny their offer, make sure to avoid lonely roads to minimize the chance of any alpha or beta hurting you. Statistically speaking it is very unlikely, but there have also been cases of omegas molesting other omegas, so just stay safe, guys!

You're home, and now?

If you are not fully sated yet, definitely go eat something and put a big glass of water on your bedside table. I know it can be hard to resist your instincts to throw yourself on the bed immediately, but your body will thank you later, trust me! If you can, consider taking a shower before lying down.

Most of you will probably not feel the need to build a nest, because you are not mated yet, but if your instincts kick in anyway, do not feel ashamed to take your own clothes and blankets to make one.

The next step is where it gets tricky!

If you are still a virgin and especially if you've never put anything inside you, I understand that you will probably be sacred to do it for the first time. I can promise you 100% that you will be more than wet enough and that it will not hurt, though!

If you have any toys at hand - I especially recommend knotted ones as they make your heat go away quicker and also make it less painful - then just use those to pleasure yourself.

If you do not own any toys, just use whatever you feel comfortable with. This can be your fingers or some sort of household object that is in within reaching distance.

You can additionally pleasure yourself in some way with your free hand to distract yourself from the entering object and to still your heat a little.

The first time you'll come will only feel like a small relief though, which might be a very unusual feeling compared to getting off when you're not in heat.

Some of you might even experience pain, but this will only occur until you fully satisfy your body's needs, so do not worry about it!

In heat

You'll spend the next few days (normally between 3 and 7) occupied with your heat, which means cycling back and forth between eating & drinking, sleeping and pleasure (maybe even a few showers, this depends on the intensity of your heat and whether or not you can handle showering during it)

You will probably eat whatever is available so make sure to never have an empty fridge in case you'll go into your first heat and are stuck at home without any food then.

When it's all over

After the end of your heat, your body will need time to regenerate, which means that you will sleep very long (at least 15 hours is common). When you will wake up you'll feel satisfied, but also a bit weak, which brings us to the next fact:

You'll need to eat a lot. The actual amount depends on your body type, height, weight, metabolism and on how much fat and nourishment your body was able to store before the heat.

About 2 days after your heat ended, you will feel completely "normal" again and you will be ready to start attending school or work again.

That's it: You managed it! Your first ever heat!

If you have any questions or topic suggestions, always feel free to ask :)

A few tips:

if you live with your parents or roommates, try hoarding all avaliable food and bottles of water in your room and lock the door. This way you won't need to face them as often (it can be embarrassing) and as they will smell your heat, they will most likely understand why you locked yourself in your room and will leave you alone

put your phone on airplane mode to avoid texting your ex or your crush during heat (trust me it's not a good idea)

buy knotted toys know, because you'll never know when your heat will start and it honestly helps so much

keep a little bottle of scent block with you at all times for a safer way home, if your heat starts unexpectedly

even though your first few heats might be a bit irregular, write down the dates of the start and end and calculate when your next heat will take place

buy food in advance for next time

stay safe and healthy!

Follow my blog for more helpful advice coming soon!

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hollywooduniversityalumnus · 3 years

Text

3. alone in our secret, together we sigh

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“I did not bid a hundred and fifty bucks for you to not pay attention to me,” whined Bianca Stone.

Thomas Hunt, who sat nearly a foot away from his “date” in Chateau de Rose, barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had known that auctioning off his evening for charity was going to guarantee him several hours of boredom at best, but being essentially held captive by one of his most detested students was not what he had even considered in the realm of possibilities for how the night would go. Aria Sheridan, the unnervingly perky hostess and auctioneer, had failed to inform him that his students would be allowed to bid on him, something that surely would have influenced his decision to take part in the event. But he had been one of the bigger names on the block, and though he knew that hundred and fifty dollars was Anders Stone’s money, at least it was going to some good use for once-

“Thomas, are you even listening to me?”

Snapped out of his thoughts, he reluctantly turned his gaze to his student. “Do not call me that.”

Bianca’s frown quickly turned sly. “Oh, okay. I’ll call you ‘professor’ then, if that’s what you like.”

He did not appreciate the implications behind her words. Or the tone she used to deliver them.

Thankfully, their server appeared, bearing their respective meals and drinks, giving him a much needed out from the salacious turn their stilted conversation was going. Though he hadn’t been to Chateau de Rose in years, not since – well, it had been a while, but he had ordered what he considered to be his favourite dish. Salmon Wellington with a side of herb and garlic mashed potatoes and acid-free cherry tomatoes. Back when he had frequented the restaurant with – well, back then, he only ordered the buttered mashed potatoes to spare his date from garlicky breath. But now, however, he hoped it would at the very least deter Bianca.

As he gulped down his three fingers of scotch, he nearly choked at the feeling of a shoe rubbing suggestively against his ankle. Swallowing hard, he shifted further away from her, only for the distance to be shortened by his smirking companion.

“Don’t be shy, professor.” The way she said the last word made his skin feel like crawling. “We’re tucked away in the corner. You don’t have to be so staid. We can get a little closer. A lot closer, in my opinion.”

Though the meal was as delicious as he had remembered, his stomach was churning. “I don’t know what you think this is-”

And then a commotion pulled his attention away from her, to where two people were noticeably getting escorted to the only other booth near them. The commotion came not from the two settling into their seats, but from other diners present who apparently couldn’t help but speak loudly of their entrance.

“Is that who I think it is?”

“Why, of course, I worked at the Fox Theatre for years. I’d recognize that face anywhere!”

“Chris Winters and . . . wait, who’s that with him?”

“That’s certainly not Sofia Morena.”

“Now, where have I seen that girl before? She looks so familiar.”

As the voices of the other diners seemed to fade into the din of the restaurant, Thomas found himself fixated on the booth in which the action movie star was openly flirting with his other notorious nuisance of a student. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the conventionally handsome household name and A-lister leaned into her and whispered something, earning him a face-splitting smile and a laugh that Thomas had heard often from across the lecture hall.

And several times during . . . other situations, but he didn’t want to think about those.

Ignoring Bianca’s attempts at getting him to sit closer to her, Thomas finished his food and signalled to the waiter for another drink. He gulped down his refill in record time as he watched Chris Winters wrap an arm around her shoulder and hold his phone in an angle that suggested they were taking a selfie.

Thomas sensed Bianca moving a little closer, cell phone in hand.

“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered.

Bianca scowled. “If I had known you were going to be this rude, I would never have bid on you! You’re the worst date ever.”

Removing the cloth napkin from his lap, he dabbed at the corners of his lips carefully before folding it and placing it on the table beside his empty plate.

“Miss Stone, what exactly did you think was going to happen?” Thomas asked, genuinely curious. “Did you think your purchasing several hours of my time for charity guaranteed that we’d, I don’t know, fall in love and have children together? At the very least, cross the line that should never be crossed between student and teacher? I wish I could say I didn’t expect you to be so obtuse. This is simply a charitable obligation for me. I mean, really. Do you honestly think I want to be here?”

Bianca stood up so fast that Thomas instinctively leaned back. Grabbing her purse and phone with one hand, she took hold of her half-drunken bellini and tossed it at him, narrowly missing his face.

“I’m getting a refund,” Bianca declared. “And for your information, I wasn’t even that into you anyway.”

“Right,” Thomas deadpanned, assessing the damage the colourful cocktail was doing to his shirt.

Bianca left in a huff, leaving him damp in alcohol and feeling uncomfortably vulnerable to the other diners, who had begun speaking to each other about what had just transpired in more hushed tones than before. He heard his name murmured more than once, which annoyed him; usually, he was in more dignified situations when he was recognized, and he suspected that this incident would be in a tabloid soon enough.

But he had other things to worry about, like the state of his clothing. He took his cloth napkin and delicately dabbed at the splatter. The shirt was most likely a write-off, unless he could get a-

“Tide pen?”

He startled at the sight of his other student, having left the booth where she had sat with Chris Winters to approach him, brandishing the aforementioned product as though she were offering a spare pencil. Warily, he took it, and made quick work of his shirt. Though he knew she lingered by him, he didn’t glance up until after he had finished the application. Then, he handed it back to her with little fanfare.

Still, she didn’t move from where she stood, watching him closely as though assessing the situation.

Finally, he snapped, “What do you want, Miss Schuyler?”

His student seemed surprised by his tone. But quickly, her eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome.”

He felt a rush of heat on his cheeks, realizing that he didn’t even bother thanking her for the pen. Though he had his own doubts about whether it would actually work, it was a nice gesture all the same. Clearing his throat, he turned to look at her properly, only to find that she had returned to her booth and her own celebrity date, who seemed eager to recapture her attention now that he had been handled.

Well, Thomas thought as he prepared to leave, at least the rest of my evening is free.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Unfortunately for Thomas, it was not to be.

Aria Sheridan, upon getting brought up to speed with what had occurred between him and Bianca, called him just as he was getting into his car. Though his bidder had forfeited her date – and failed to bully her way into getting a refund – he was still obligated to attend the other event for the evening. And, much as he hated to admit it, it wasn’t like he had other plans for himself other than getting out of his suit and repressing the evening’s events with a bottle of merlot.

The aquarium had been kept open after hours for the charity dates, and though he felt a little silly walking through the exhibits by his lonesome, he much preferred it to having to deal with Bianca clamped to his side, much like the starfish to its mossy rock. He found himself walking in a tunnel made mostly of glass, surrounded by aquatic creatures who seemed almost at peace with being held captive for ogling by the public. Even he knew it was cynical to think like that, but he couldn’t help himself. The seahorses, the clownfish, even the eels, all unwitting spectacles for the amusement of those who would tap on the glass and buy obnoxious, over-priced plush versions of the creatures at the gift shop afterwards.

Despite himself, while stopping to observe some jellyfish, he wondered if it would have been an enjoyable experience with an actual date.

Now that he was finally alone, barring the fish, he allowed himself to reminisce, his mind’s eye conjuring up a heart-shaped face with a dazzling smile and a laugh that he was startled he even remembered. Her name on his tongue, as though he were decades younger again, being dragged out of the dorms to a party or being pulled along during a tiring, cliché hike to the Hollywood sign with their likeminded peers.

He pressed his fingertips gently to the glass, closing his eyes against the blue tint of the tunnel.

Yvonne.

He wondered if she ever thought of him, of the aspiring director who had failed to meet her that fateful night when they were to run away together, as her time in America was ending. He had sat in his dorm room all night, his hair clenched between his fingers, forcing himself to read to distract himself from thinking of her sitting at the bus stop. He wondered, for the first time in years, if he would ever see her again. If he would ever feel like how she made him feel again.

It was a love destined to end, and they both knew it. But they were young, in love, and desperately foolish enough to believe in those grand gestures Hollywood peddled in their blockbusting, lackluster romantic comedies. He had not wanted it to end, but he knew that running away would severely hinder his burgeoning career, and though he had loved her, he loved film – and the prospect of being one of the greats – more.

Still, he had regrets. He seldom allowed himself to dwell on them, but as soon as he afforded himself that moment of weakness, it all came back to him. His mind was cruel enough to conjure up dregs of their final conversation, done over the phone, months after she had returned to Spain, when his guilt and his need to hear her voice became too much to bear.

“I have a husband now. We’re expecting.”

“You made up your mind. I made up mine.”

And, lastly, “Please don’t call me again.”

It could have been him, and he knew it. She knew it. But it wasn’t. And, as far as Thomas was concerned, he might never be that for someone.

A husband. A father. A lover.

He had his career, the respect of his peers, and accolades that spilled over the polished surfaces of his many armoires and credenzas. All that had been dreams when he had met her.

He didn’t dream anymore. Couldn’t remember what he last dreamt of even if he tried. His life had become a blur of grading and critiques and tiresome events. Waking up in his bed and falling back into it sixteen hours later, repeating the cycle with little to differentiate the days.

Though he had dated after Yvonne, he found it difficult to forge a lasting connection with any of his now-exes. God, how he had tried. Marianne, for all that they had in common, was just too much like him, critical and cold, and they were better off as friends anyway. And Priya . . . he hesitated to brand her a mistake, but his memories of their short relationship proved that her choosing to prioritize her career over him was not a decision he should’ve been blindsided by. He chose not to dwell on the others, those he had brief dalliances with, because they were momentary distractions more than anything else.

All the awards in the world couldn’t fill the void he had been working tirelessly since that night in his dorm room to ignore.

He hadn’t realized he’d pressed his forehead to the glass until a thunk from the other side startled him out of his thoughts. A turtle knocked itself against the glass before swimming away. He looked after it for a few seconds before straightening his shoulders, wiping under his eyes with his thumb, and leaving the tunnel through where he had come in.

The room he entered was more dimly lit than the tunnel, but the displays emanated that blue-green glow that made it obvious where everything was. He didn’t have to squint much to see the benches, the informative plaques citing statistics and scientific names, and . . . he stilled.

Even shrouded in shadows, he recognized her immediately.

His student stood alone, tears streaking down her face. Her head bowed as soon as she saw him enter, and her arms, wound around her torso as if giving herself a hug, squeezed her sides as if in reassurance or comfort.

No Chris Winters in sight, or anyone else involved in the date auction, for that matter.

His chest felt tight at the sight of her.

But, before he could say anything, she broke the silence.

“I’m sorry I let Bianca win.”

Thomas blinked, taken aback by the apology.

“I could have won,” she continued, her voice shaky in a way that made his own throat feel dry, “but I let her win. I shouldn’t have.”

He felt frozen in place. “Where is your date?” His voice embarrassingly cracked at the last word.

“He’s gone.” She sniffled, a pitiful sound in the otherwise silence.

Thomas looked around. Still no employees or other charity dates in sight. Where did they all go? Were they even here when he showed up? He struggled to remember much of anything between parking in the nearly empty lot and all the memories he dredged up with his forehead pressed against the glass.

His student lowered herself onto a bench and buried her face in her hands. And, as much as a part of him scolded him for doing so, he joined her on it, though he chose to keep his eyes glued to the exhibit in front of them rather than the girl softly crying by his side.

“I bet you would’ve been a better date than Miss Stone,” he finally said.

She made a sound between a sob and a laugh. “I know I would be.” She raised her head and gave him a little smile. “For example, I wouldn’t waste a bellini on you.”

That little smile made him feel a little braver. He reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder. The mere touch made her smile brighten for a beautiful, lingering moment, before dimming once more as her eyes went downcast.

Thomas wanted desperately for that smile to reappear.

“I wanted to keep bidding,” she admitted. “You looked so nervous on the stage, seeing Bianca and I bid on you. And, between the two of us, I consider myself the lesser evil, so . . . I was going to.”

“What stopped you?” Thomas asked, shifting on the bench to see her better. Her eyes were still downcast, but she had somewhat of a bitter smile playing on her lips.

“I want to say my friends,” she said slowly. “They knew Chris was going to be at the auction, and that he’d taken me on a couple of dates already, so I felt pressured to bid for him. But that’s not the real reason.”

Thomas’s brows furrowed. “What is the real reason, then?”

She snorted. “It was the way you looked at me. When you were standing on the stage, when I was about to outbid her. You looked . . . well, you were . . . disgusted.”

Sighing deeply, she turned her gaze to the exhibit in front of them, following the manta ray’s movements as though she hadn’t just made Thomas’s stomach twist with her confession.

They were dangerously close to talking about it. What had transpired between them in the past few weeks, first at the masquerade, then on that film set overnight. She had not spoken to him about personal matters since that night on the set, allowing him to blissfully pretend as though he hadn’t, for a handful of hours, been close with her in a way that he knew he shouldn’t have been. But now they were alone, and it seemed as though it was the time to discuss it.

“It . . . scared me, seeing you look so horrified by the possibility of spending any time with me. Even after . . . what’s happened between us.” She looked as though she was speaking to the manta ray. “I may be a hell of a handful as your student but believe me when I say I didn’t want to torture you. Still don’t.” She shook her head. “I’m surprised you’re even talking to me, after everything.”

Thomas’s mind was cruel, bringing up images and sensations he hadn’t allowed himself to think of. The beautiful blue dress. Her impressive, fluid dance moves that kept up with his. The sound of her voice as she teased him for apparently being able to recognize every person in that ballroom apart from her. The mask that hid her high cheekbones, one of the most prominent physical characteristics of her, but still couldn’t conceal her identity from him.

The truth that he had kept to himself. That he had known it was her from the start.

His playing along, pretending that he didn’t know who she was, was irresponsible. Reckless. Inappropriate. But he had done it, partly out of curiosity to see where it would lead. Another part due to his boredom of attending the event stag, of attending such events for years alone and without much to keep him past the obligated hour or so of mingling. And another part . . .

“Can I drive you home?”

She looked surprised to hear him offer. And, honestly, he was surprised he offered, too. For a moment, they looked at each other, frozen in that mutual moment, before she nodded.

“I don’t think there’s anything going on after this, so . . . if you wouldn’t mind, I’d be grateful not to walk back in heels.”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

He’d let her pick the music for the drive and was surprised that she unearthed a CD case from the console to rifle through.

“Barry Manilow?” Margot giggled. “I didn’t take you for a Fanilow.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Thomas said warningly, though he found the corners of his mouth twitching.

She flipped to the next few slots. “Ooh. A big musical theatre fan. The Music Man, Oklahoma, and – Ooh!” Pulling out a CD, she stuck it into the slot and allowed the music to wash over them both. At a red light, he side-eyed her with an amused grin.

“What? ’The King and I’ is one of my favourite shows,” she admitted.

The light changed, and another song began, one in which two forbidden lovers sang about hiding their relationship. Though she seemed unaffected by it, choosing to stare out of the window, he felt himself glancing more and more at her as the song progressed.

He did not appreciate the irony.

But, all the same, he kept a close eye on her as they neared the dormitories. Where, he realized too late, it would be completely conspicuous for him to be dropping off one of his students in the late hours of the evening. Especially one who was dressed to the nines like she had just gone on a big date-

Wait a minute.

He looked over at her as the car came to a stop by the curb. She was rifling through her purse for her keys, hardly paying attention to his lingering eyes, when he spoke.

“Why did Mr. Winters leave you this evening?”

She stilled. Sucking in her bottom lip, she bit down on it enough to transfer some of her lipsticks to her teeth.

He waited.

And waited.

Then . . .

“Good night, professor. Thank you for getting me back safely.” Her hand moved toward the door handle, only to freeze on it upon contact.

Offering her an out, he simply said, “Good night.”

But rather than swinging open the door and taking her leave, she turned herself until she was angled to him, her face fully visible to him. Though her eyes still seemed a bit puffy from her earlier crying, she looked otherwise flawless, even with the slight smear of dusty rose lipstick on her front teeth.

“He knew I wasn’t . . . into being with him tonight, but he had been a good sport all the same,” she said, her voice so soft against the darkness of the night and the gentle hum of the car’s engine. “We got to the aquarium shortly after you did. I saw you in that tunnel, looking so upset, so sad, and I wanted to talk to you. But Chris . . . well, he didn’t want me to. Said I’d been distracted all evening and that I needed to focus on what really matters.”

Thomas suppressed the urge to scoff. Regardless of the kindness Chris Winters may have usually bestowed upon her, his superstar ego still got in the way. It wasn’t a surprise; big names like him, whose careers revolve around big-budget, unnecessary-explosions-and-gunfights, tropey Tommy Phelps-ian films, almost always thought far too highly of themselves, demanding their mere presence entitled them to nothing less than the best at restaurants, public events, and the like, as though they weren’t one injury away from being replaced by a brighter-eyed actor who continued the vicious cycle . . .

Margot’s voice was a little quieter than before, more vulnerable.

“So, I did.”

Their gazes met over the centre console and held for several moments too long.

Thomas felt strange, a mixed bag of emotions furiously working their way over his senses. Mortified that she’d seen him so . . . so human. Upset at himself for opening that old wound in the first place. Confused that she had intended to blow off one of Hollywood’s biggest movie stars to comfort him. Touched that she considered him and his feelings of great importance to her.

“I made up my mind,” she continued, shrugging. “He made up his.”

His ribcage felt constricting around his lungs. Her eyes upon him felt both judgemental and soothing.

Finally, he straightened up in his seat, nodding to himself as he broke the spell. She similarly took the movement as a dismissal and pulled on the door handle, stepping out into the cool night. Illuminated now by the lamppost by the sidewalk, he could see her, really see her.

Of course, he’d seen Margot on screen in several assignments during his class. For all her faults, she really was a remarkable actress, and her classmates almost always asked for her assistance in their projects, meaning that her visage was more often than not gracing the screen, inexplicably yet seamlessly transformed into whichever character she was embodying. He could recognize her a mile away, regardless of the darkness of the room or the mask perched upon her face.

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night, Thomas,” Margot said, giving him one last small smile before closing the door and turning for her dorm.

He did not correct her.

#thomas hunt #thomas orson hunt #hollywood u #only fools fall for you #fanfiction

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: There's a Place I Like To Hide

Summary: Pillows, so many pillows, Edge has a few thoughts about those and other things.

Notes: In this chapter there is some violence. Angst! Drama! We got it all!

Tags: Spicyhoney, Brotherly Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy, More Angst

Warnings: Implied underage pregnancy. Implied miscarriages. Past Trauma.

~~*~~

Chapter List

What Will Be, Will Be

Something To Say, But Nothing Comes

Can’t Go On, Thinking Nothing’s Wrong

Seldom All They Seem

Voices Are Heard But Nothing Is Seen

Winter Makes You Laugh a Little Slower

That Place Where You Can’t Remember and You Can’t Forget

Casting Its Shroud Over All We Have Known

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

There was only one chair in Rus’s room, a rolling one that usually sat by his desk in front of the broken-down old computer he used to share terrible puns with the rest of the UnderNet.

Edge was sitting in that chair, but not at the desk. He’d pulled it around the bed into the far corner. It was safer to sit there than anywhere else. Even the bed, stripped of both blankets and pillows, was not out of the line of fire, as demonstrated by the pillow that flew out of the closet, smacking into the wall before falling onto the bare mattress with a sad thump.

The same thing had been going on for the past hour, from nearly the moment Edge arrived to deliver his menagerie of pillows.

Rus had been waiting in the living room, pacing, when Edge arrived. He’d presented his offering of fluffy pillows and most were snatched away, a grateful kiss pressed fervently to his mouth and then gone before Edge could even decide what to do about it. Rus waddled determinedly upstairs with his prize, Edge at his heels with the leftover pillows that were too much for Rus to carry on his own, particularly with his own similarly pillowy physique. He’d watched in silent bemusement as Rus disappeared into the large closet, and there he remained, occasionally crawling out to snag a discarded pillow before diving back in and the sounds of whatever chaos was reigning in that small space echoed through the room.

Despite the occasional thrown pillow, the room was probably as clean as Edge had ever seen it. The floor was barren of its normal litter of socks and trash, vacuumed within an inch of its life. The windows were washed, the baseboards scrubbed. Even the ceiling fan gleamed and the very idea of an ungainly, pregnant Rus tottering on a ladder to wipe it down was nightmare best not considered. Along the far wall were stacks of folded clothes, books, shoes, whatever had been in the closet before its pillow invasion was lined up ruler-neat along the wall.

The amount of clutter the closet held beforehand was evidence that despite a lack of Narnia inside, it was spacious enough for whatever Rus intended, even if Edge still couldn’t fathom what that was.

The loud thumping noises and occasional curses had stopped coming from the closet a few minutes ago, leaving silence in its wake. Edge rallied his courage and took a chance, cautiously approaching to peer through the half-closed door.

The pillows and blankets were arranged into a sort of cozy nest and Rus was burrowed exhaustedly right in the middle of it, his sockets barely open. His sweatshirt crumpled into a discarded ball in one corner and the only thing he was wearing was a pair of pajama pants, the waistband pushed beneath the heavy swell of his belly.

“Are you finished?” Edge asked cautiously.

“think so,” Rus mumbled tiredly. He lifted his head enough to look at Edge, his pale eye lights glowing softly in the dimness. “you coming in?”

The tone made it seem less a question and more a hopeful desire, one that Edge was more than willing to indulge. Carefully, Edge crawled inside, trying not to disturb the cushiony layer. It was not an easy process; the pillows felt as if they were three-deep and they were laid out with almost geometric precision. With some effort, he settled in behind Rus, who sighed and snuggled back against him, slender legs tangling with Edge’s own. Edge settled a hand on Rus’s belly, gently stroking along the sides where the magic was stretched tightest and earning a relieved sigh for his efforts.

Unusual as it was, the closet was hardly the strangest place Edge ever slept, though the question of why still lingered.

“Was there something wrong with the bed?” Edge asked, curiously.

“no, with the room,” Rus said. He sounded sleepily distracted, nearly drowsing, “it’s too open out there, i dunno, i can’t explain.” He shook his head in frustration. “i needed to be someplace better, closer.” Abruptly, Rus squirmed, grumbling, “my back is killing me.”

Edge obediently began to rub the length of Rus’s spine. The cartilage between the joints felt painfully hot and swollen from taking on its extra burden. That explanation made a certain sense; the closet was darker, the only light coming in from the open door and perhaps some instinct made Rus wish to be less exposed, an inherent need to conceal himself when he was at his most vulnerable. “I’ve heard of nesting during pregnancy, I’ve never seen it taken literally.”

“i ain’t questioning the hormones or whatever it is we get,” Rus yawned. It shifted to a grimace as his stomach visibly distorted with the movement of the baby within. “anything to get this ball rolling. this kid can pop anytime she wants. stick a fork in me, i’m done.”

“She’ll come when she’s ready,” Edge said, a truth that he tried to soften by firmly rubbing out the tension in Rus’s lumbar vertebra, which seemed to take the brunt of the abuse.

“yeah, well, she can start packing her bags and head to the station, cause the conductor is about to take off… ow!” Rus yelped.

Edge stopped instantly. “Did I hurt you?”

“nah, daddy’s little angel just smacked me with her halo. easy, skitten,” Rus pushed the heel of his hand against the obvious bulge at the side of his stomach, then yelped again, louder and startled, “ouch! what the fuck, kid—”

Edge settled a hand atop Rus’s. Beneath their combined touch, the roiling movements that were once thumps and kicks were now more full body rolls, the baby struggling to move in her constricted space, “I believe you might be getting your wish soon, she’s very active.”

They both went quiet, waiting, the silence broken only by Rus’s occasional grunt of discomfort. Their disappointment was palpable when the baby settled back into stillness. With an aggravated sigh, Rus pushed restlessly against Edge’s hands and he started dutifully rubbing again.

After a moment, Rus said, thoughtfully, “you know, no one has actually told me yet how she gets out.”

“What?” That was enough for Edge to stop his massage and sit up, appalled. “What do you mean how she gets out?”

“how she is getting out,” Rus repeated, irritably, “it’s not rocket science here, she’s currently in and she’ll need to get out. somehow, i’m thinking it’s not as easy as knocking and calling ‘olly olly oxen free’. and the traditional method probably isn’t in the cards.”

Edge was somewhat familiar with childbirth as it went for other Monsters and the more he considered it, the more he thought Rus was likely correct. Rus’s hips were too narrow for the baby to pass through his pelvic girdle and his ectoflesh hadn’t formed a vaginal canal, either.

“How do you not know this?!” Edge demanded.

“i dunno, it didn’t come up!” Rus snapped defensively. “it’s not like you know, either!”

“I am not currently pregnant!” Edge regretted yelling the moment the words left his mouth. Arguing about this wasn’t going to help and he didn’t miss the sudden well of tears in Rus’s sockets before he turned away, burying his face into the pillows. Edge settled back down, and Rus didn’t resist when Edge pulled him back into his arms, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.”

“i know that,” Rus swiped angrily at his cheekbones, “stupid fucking hormones. i knew how to get pregnant, but that’s about as far as i go. turned out that undyne’s old research books weren’t real useful for skeleton pregnancies and it’s not like i know any pregnant skeletons to ask. looks like we might be figuring it out as we go.”

“I can’t think of another situation where I’d like less to improvise.” They didn’t know any other pregnant skeletons, that much was true. Not pregnant, no, but there was at least one skeleton they both knew who’d endured a pregnancy of his own. Edge swallowed hard and said haltingly, “I could call Red for you, we could ask him.”

“no,” Rus said immediately. He rolled over and caught hold of Edge’s hands as if afraid he’d start reaching for his phone. “no, don’t do that. he’ll be here tonight. i can ask him then.” He nodded, almost to himself, “yeah, that’ll be fine. red will know.” With a sigh, Rus settled back into his pillows, closing his sockets. But there was a certain tension in him that hadn’t been there before, his new contentment in his little nest regretfully lost and there was very little that Edge could do to help bring it back.

“Do you want something to eat?” Edge tried, “I can bring it up.” The refrigerator and freezer were filled with easy to prepare meals, containers whose contents only needed heating. Blue cheerily put up plenty of extras, not only due to his brother’s current needs but anticipating for after the baby’s birth…however that would occur. It would be the work of minutes to heat something up.

Rus only shook his head, mumbling out, “nah, jus’ tired.”

“All right, then.” Edge gently stroked along the curve of Rus’s skull, silently urging him to close his sockets. “Go to sleep.”

“stay?” That single word, nearly a plea, and Edge only nodded, pressing a light kiss to Rus’s temple and listened to his contented sigh.

Stay. Of all things Rus could ask for, that was what he chose and if Edge were honest with himself, he would have been hard-pressed to decline even if Rus weren’t pregnant with their child. Casual and occasional, that was how he’d described their relationship to Blue back when Rus first told him about the baby and now, he couldn’t say the same. How could he, when every evening he wanted to hurry back to Rus, to see his smile, listen to his foolish jokes and laughter, watch over him as he napped, his skull settled comfortably into Edge’s lap and inviting a gentle touch. He wanted that, all of that, to continue, wanted it with a desperation that bordered on necessity.

He didn’t know what they were, what they were doing; all the walls he’d raised between them were rubble, the cautious distance he’d kept between them breached. If the question of how their child was going to come into this world was an important, then this was at least a distant second. What were they to each other and what were they going to do about it?

He wanted to help parent their child, there was no question of that. Edge only wondered if he were going to be allowed to remain close to Rus as part of the bargain.

A part of him boiled with the urge to ask now, now, to shake Rus awake and stupidly demand an answer. But despite what his brother might think, Red hadn’t entirely raised a fool. Asking now would be the height of unfairness when Rus was so close to the end of his pregnancy, at his most needy and overwhelmed. Once Lucy made her appearance and things settled a bit, that would be a better chance, a fairer chance, one that allowed Rus to choose without any fear that he would lose Edge’s support.

Besides, that would give Edge an opportunity to ask Blue if there were any specific customs in Underswap that should be followed, perhaps even to borrow their version of the dating manual…he was really going to do this, Edge realized, and the thought nearly made him giddy. He was going to discuss some sort of commitment with Rus and after that, the choice would be his. If that was something Rus wanted from him.

If.

Rus was sleeping deeply enough that he didn’t stir as Edge pulled him fractionally closer, holding him firmly within the circle his arms. If the baby were coming soon, he might well be losing his chance for this and the thought was a painful one, cramping in his soul, to think that he might lose the opportunity to hold Rus in his arms.

It was Rus’s choice to make, just as the choice to carry their baby had been his. All Edge could do was guiltily indulge in the urge to glut himself on this closeness, anguished with breathing in the sweetness of Rus’s scent, wishing desperately that this would be something he could keep, something he could be allowed for himself, just this once.

He held Rus close and didn’t expect to fall asleep himself, hardly aware of drifting off, one hand pressed loosely against Rus’s sternum and the other gently draped over the swell of his belly. Holding onto what meant most to him, even in sleep.

~~*~~

For the first few moments after Rus woke up, he was disoriented to the point of not even knowing where the fuck he was. That wasn’t so bad, really. Where wasn’t a problem so much as what and what was that he was fucking hot.

There was a thin layer of sweat coating his bones, the bedding beneath him was sodden with it, and as he woke up a little more, Rus figured out that part of that was because Edge was about half on top of him, squashing him into the cushions, what the fuck—

Ah. Pillows. Right.

Earlier, the thought of climbing into the closet for the next month or so seemed like the most brilliant of all ideas. Someplace nice and safe, all enclosed and cozy along with plenty of cushiony pillows to pad the way. Rus’d gotten the closet all cleaned out and ready to go, only to figure out that his single pillow added with the two he stole from Blue’s bed didn’t exactly make for Cloud 9. The cushions from the sofa helped a little but not enough, and in his desperation, he’d thought of Edge.

It was almost embarrassing now to think of how he'd called Edge while he was on patrol to demand a pillow sacrifice but hell, Edge came through in spades, didn’t he. Probably better not to ask where he got ‘em all, although the idea of Edge ransacking Underfell in a pillow heist was enough to make him choke on a laugh.

It was not, however, enough to distract him from how fucking hot he was. Turned out being pregnant turned his internal thermostat up to eleven and sometimes it was all too much. Like now.

There was a choice to be made here. If he woke Edge up, there was no question that he’d go get a towel for Rus so he could dry off. Probably even offer to sponge him off and tempting as that was, if Edge was zonked out, stood to reason that he probably needed some zzz’s, too. Sure, Rus was doing the major lifting, but Edge was going back and forth between their worlds, doing all his regular work before heading back here to hang out, dealing with all of Rus’s bullshit and helping Blue.

So if waking up Edge was out, it was time for Option B to step up to the plate, which involved escaping from Mister Clings-A-Lot here and wandering outside for a minute to bask in the lovely, cold Snowdin air. Preferably before Red showed up ‘cause he’d throw a fit about it and start yowling about keeping mamas safe and that would probably end with Rus stuffed into a blanket and plopped down on the sofa with a bitchy lecture made to order just for him.

Yeah, Rus could do without that tonight, thanks.

Even as Rus considered his options, a ticklish trickle of sweat was winding its uncomfortable way down his sacrum and yeah, okay, enough was enough. Time to get his Mission Impossible on.

Getting away from Edge was the first step and the most dangerous, but as it turned out, once he was out, Edge was down for the count. He didn’t even stir as Rus wriggled his way loose from his duct tape grip, crawling his way across the mounds of pillowy goodness to the door.

Rus was panting by the time he got out of the closet, leaning weakly against the wall as he caught his breath, shit but pregnancy was not for the faint of heart or the weak of will. Not that Rus was gonna win any awards for either, eh, didn’t matter, Lucy wasn’t complaining.

Except how she totally was, already squirming hard in her disapproval of sneaking away from papa. A quick peek showed that Edge was still snoozing away, and Rus patted his belly gently, snagging a fresh sweatshirt from the carefully folded pile against the wall as he slipped out the door.

“easy, kiddo,” Rus whispered. All he got in return was a disagreeable little foot jammed right into his floating rib, hard enough to make him wince. “look, it’s only for a minute, i’m roasting like a pineapple in here.”

Kid was definitely taking after Edge; she reluctantly settled down and Rus could practically feel her sullen, unspoken agreement for just a few minutes.

His slippers were by the front door and Rus slipped them on. Not exactly the best for tromping around outside but his swollen boney piggies didn’t much care for getting crammed into his sneakers. Another preggo joy to add to his growing collection.

“kiddo, at this point, i don’t think i care if you make an exit out of my eye socket, so long as you move out,” Rus sighed as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head. “okay, only kidding, if anyone up there is listening, i didn’t mean that—”

Any concerns about divine retribution vanished as Rus stepped out into the crisp, cold air. He groaned aloud, shuffling further out into the snow. The path that led around to the back of the house was mostly shoveled, only a fine layer of fresh snowflakes scattered across it.

Rus followed it around back to where he used to hang around out of Blue’s sight to sneak a cigarette. He’d quit smoking the moment he’d found out he was pregnant, but that didn’t stop his hands from automatically groping for his cigs. The lighter was a poor compensation, but Rus fiddled with it, anyway.

Getting down to the wire here. Pretty soon their little skitten would be here and Rus was right around a hundred and five percent positive that he wasn’t ready for this. Shame that he didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.

At least they were set with gear, even if it wasn’t at the house yet. The Buns declared it was bad luck to have baby stuff in the house before the kiddo got here and while Rus privately thought that was a load of bullshit, he’d never say a peep, nope, he owed the Buns big time, not only for their timely rescue from the snowstorm but for what they had waiting to bring to the house the second Lucy came down from the sky with her diamonds in tow and—

Moving was pure instinct, an almost blurred sidestep to the left, away from a huge armored hand that nearly snagged ahold of him.

Rus was usually pretty fucking quick on his feet, at least as long as his stamina lasted. That was before his sense of balance was thrown off by the combined weight of ectoflesh and baby. He staggered and nearly fell as he dodged again, his slippered feet sliding in the fresh layer of snow as panic rose heavy in his throat and who the fuck—

He stared up, his soul frozen in sheer disbelief at the figure towering over him; a Knight Knight, but not one he’d ever seen, not one of the humorless hulks who hung around with Madjick and occasionally stopped at his sentry post to buy a hot cat. This creature was a nightmare, her grotesque armor covered with rusty spikes and one of the horns on her helmet jaggedly broken off. The birdlike face that dominated her torso was a twisted, sneering wreck, its mouth opening to reveal a bloated, bloodshot eye with oozing pus crusted into the corners. Even that didn’t horrify Rus as much as the dust, so much dust, caked into the armor joints and falling in horrifying motes from the clawed gauntlet reaching again for Rus.

He was backed up against the house, there was nowhere for him to go, no escape except one. and the second those vicious claws grazed his sweatshirt, Rus took it.

It’d been weeks, but reaching for the void was as easy as it ever was. Rus grabbed a frantic mental picture of where and pushed through, stepping into a shortcut…and stopped.

Never before had one of his shortcuts stuttered halfway through, never had it dropped him painfully back into the world, whimpering and aching with the aborted backlash of the failed attempt. The ground came up to meet him hard enough to knock the breath out of him, the Knight Knight dangerously close to landing on top of him.

The hard landing at least got him loose and Rus scrambled away, struggling to crawl through icy slush with his heavy belly almost dragging on the ground. Trying desperately to get to his feet and he could hear the clang of armor behind him. Close, too close, he felt the brutal virulence of intent at the same moment as he felt the panicked squirm of his child inside him responding to his fear through their soul link and Rus didn’t think, only reached for his fiercest attack with the last of his strength.

In a split second, he summoned a blaster, its enormous sockets filled with maddened eye lights, its toothy maw gaping open and from it a blazing hot explosion of orange plasma boiled out, directly at the Knight Knight, engulfing it. She made a sound that passed for a scream, a sulfurous, hollow shriek that rang painfully through Rus’s skull.

He watched, dry-eyed, as she fell to her knees, KR burning through her HP. His own strength was fading, black dots starting to hover in his vision and Lucy was still shifting painfully inside him as he stared at the collapsing grotesque.

“night night,” Rus managed to whisper before unconsciousness claimed him.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #pregnancy fic

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