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wrenreid · 1 year

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Just Acting

18+ NSFW story | all chapters in masterlist

Chapter Fifteen

"Jess... I uh, I got some shit to tell you,” you say, phone pressed to your ear.

"You did what?!” Jess barges through your apartment door after your brief talk on the phone. A call in which you told her what Matthew and you did.

"Yeah,” you blow out an exaggerated sigh.

"So you do like him!” She gloats.

"No,” you pause for a second. “No. I just had sex with him. There's a difference actually."

"So you like his body though?" Jess raises an eyebrow.

"Oh definitely,” you nod, biting your lip gently.

Jess laughs. "What are you gonna do now?"

"I don't know.”

"Do you want to do it again?"

"I don't know,” you say again, dragging out the last vowel a little.

"Girl,” Jess says sternly but there’s a smug grin on her lips.

"I know, I know. I sound stupid, but like I'm honestly confused myself,” you let out a soft groan. “And I have to see him tomorrow. At work. Where we play a couple.”

"Maybe talk to him? Ask him where you go from there,” Jess suggests.

"Maybe, yeah."

______

You have a few very important scenes coming up for the show. You're nervous, especially for one of them, but it should be entertaining.

You're ready in Delilah's clothes and style, waiting around for your next scene of the day. What you did on the couch you sit on now, not that long ago, burns in your brain. You can almost feel it. You push it back, it's crazy.

A little, and stupid, part of your brain wants to do it again. Wants to feel Matthew, kiss his lips, feel his hair in your hands, his mouth on your neck. What is wrong with you?

You pray that this won't affect your relationship as you leave your trailer and head to the film set. You run into someone coming out of the building when you're going in.

"Might want to watch where you're walking." He says it more sarcastic than rude.

You look up at Matthew, shooting him a sarcastic almost-grin. "Yeah thanks, jackass."

Most of your scenes today are just Delilah at work. It doesn't take any more than 3 hours to film until you're walking back out to the trailers.

"Can't stop thinking about it huh?" Matthew's voice sends shocks on your skin. His breath graces your hair.

You turn around to face him. "You wish," you won't give him satisfaction just yet.

He steps closer to you, touching your arm. "Too bad the first has to be the last." Matthew's voice is low.

"What?"

"Just doing as you said, 'move on with our lives'. Right?" There's a hint of bitterness in his tone.

You inhale, "Right. Yeah."

He looks you up and down, then walks away into his trailer. You're left standing there shocked and confused. You're even confused as to why you are shocked and confused.

You understand now why guys say women are confusing, you can't even comprehend your own feelings right now.

You shake it off, forget this. Matthew was just a one night stand type thing. It was a fluke. A weird, but highly pleasurable fluke.

Okay, Y/n... you're fine. it's out of your mind. You leave for home since you're finished until early tomorrow morning.

You eat some ice cream from your freezer while you sit on the couch, flipping through channels. A sex scene comes on from some random movie, you change it quickly. "Really?" you say as Matthew's face pops up on the tv from a rerun of Criminal Minds season 13. You change the channel, rolling your eyes.

____

It's been a week since the incident, and you and Matthew have not gotten along one bit. One minute it's sarcastic comments, rude remarks, dirty stares, or just plain ignoring each other.

"You know? You were right that day when you said nothing between us would be anything but our characters. Because quite frankly, you're sort of a bitch in real life,” he spits out.

"Excuse me? I'm a bitch? You're the one who acts like an immature assclown every second of your God damn life,” you tell him, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

"That's not what you said while we were fucking.” The grin on his face is the most annoying, smug bullshit you’ve ever seen.

That's it. That's what triggered you so hard to where you snapped. Your hand connects with Matthew's cheek. "Go fuck yourself," you say and storm off. He's stunned as you walk away.

It's taking everything in you not to cry. Angry crying is the worst, and it's so embarrassing. You're strong. You will not cry.

I hate him. I actually hate him.

_____

"We have to what?" You say, louder than intended. Your eyes widen at the script in your hands.

"I think it says you have to have sex," Aisha says.

"Yes, Aish, thank you," you say sarcastically.

You stare more... Spencer and Delilah sex scene. Sex scene. You and Matthew. You're going to die of embarrassment or murder him before you do.

You can't believe you have to have pretend sex with the asshole who called you a bitch. You knew, that playing a couple, you'd have kiss, but you're not ready for a sex scene. You roll your eyes, throwing your head back in anger. You let out a groan. Why me?!

——

Two words continue to burn in your mind. Sex. Scene. Sex scene with Matthew.

You keep reminding yourself that this is what you signed up for; maybe not faking intimacy with the man you hate right now, but you're an actress and doing things you don't particularly want to is part of the job. You wanted this role, you've got to do it.

The scene is tomorrow, it's your second one of the episode. Everyone else is on set right now while you sit on your couch at home. Matthew is probably plotting some way to make the scene more uncomfortable and angering for you. Sounds like something that asshole would do.

You order a pizza and Jess comes over to your apartment. The two of you watch Netflix and eat.

"How's the Matthew thing going?" She asks, half distracted.

"I'd rather his name not be mentioned in this house,” you warn sternly.

She laughs. "So, well I see."

"Yep, totally." You roll your eyes, taking a bite of the pizza.

You don't tell her about the upcoming scene. She'll just think it's funny and ironic.

You ask about her girlfriend, and she rambles on. It's nice to see her so happy. Maybe even in love? You haven't felt that way about someone in a long time. Since you were 20. You let Jess continue to talk about her, it's a nice way of distancing yourself from your own stupid life.

Jess and you watch a few more hours of tv until she heads out to see meet her girlfriend and her friends.

"Good luck with Gubler," she says on her way out.

"I definitely need that," you say quietly. "I'll see you later!"

You clean up, putting glasses in the sink and paper plates in the trash. Then, you head to your room and plop down on the bed.

You call Lola, checking in on how school and everything is going. You assure your sister that you'll be visiting as soon as you can.

This acting schedule life has been crazy, you haven't been back home in a while. A part of you likes that you've been away, free from the stress of your parents and exploring Los Angeles on your own. It makes you feel more grown up than turning 34 will.

You slip into a pair of plaid pants and a white t shirt and wash your face and all the other nightly shit you do. You crawl into bed, a knot starting to tug at your stomach.

You wake up from a random ass dream, dreading the day ahead of you. As you get dressed, the knot tugs and pulls tighter in the pit of your stomach. You slip on joggers and a band t shirt, throw on a flannel, and step into white sneakers. Quickly, you comb through your brown hair, wash your face, brush your teeth, and get ready to head out of the door.

Grabbing your keys and a cup of homemade coffee from last night, you head down the stairs and to your car.

You arrive on set around 11am, heading to hair and makeup almost immediately. Your already slightly curly hair is curled more then pulled apart, leaving gorgeous waves.

A natural look as always is applied to your face, then you're sent to grab Delilah's outfit for the day. You put on black jeans, tan healed booties, a blue top, and a tan blazer to tie the look together.

You head down since they told you they were ready for you as soon as makeup, hair, and costume were done.

After talking to the director and marking/ planning the scene, it's time to shoot. This is just a quick scene of Delilah heading home from work early after getting a message from Spencer.

‘I have a surprise for you. Can you get off work for a little while?’

Delilah heads to her place after saying goodbye to her employees. "I'll be back later today, call me if you need anything." She gets in her car and starts the drive to her apartment. She plans to change really quick before going to see what Spencer had planned.

She unlocks her door and finds her boyfriend standing in her living room facing the other way. He's grabbing something.

"Spencer?"

He turns around, holding a rose in his hand. There's a sign above him that reads "happy birthday".

"Happy birthday, Delilah,” he smiles proudly.

"Thank you. But it's not until tomorrow,” she chuckles.

"I know. I didn't know if I'd get another day off this week, so I figured we'd celebrate today," he blushes, handing the rose to her as she approaches.

"Thank you, Spencer." Delilah wraps her arms around him. She looks down at the rose in her hands after pulling away.

"I wasn't sure what your favorite flower is, so..."

"Daisies... but you can never go wrong with a rose." Delilah smiles up at him, kissing him softly.

"Oh I almost forgot, I also got you this," he leads her over to the kitchen table where a cupcake sits in cute packaging. The mini cake says "to d - sr". "I couldn't fit your whole name," he chuckles nervously.

"You made this?"

He nods. "Baking is harder than I thought."

Delilah laughs. "It's perfect."

"You're perfect," he says.

She sits down, motioning for him to do so too. The cupcake is vanilla with purple icing. After taking a couple bites, she offers Spencer the rest of it.

In the kitchen, after washing her hands, she wipes off icing Spencer had gotten on his mouth.

Spencer wipes his thumb along her bottom lip.

"Oh did I have some too?" She chuckles.

"No." He leans in, pressing his lips to hers with desire. The kiss isn't rushed or too slow as their mouths move against each other's. Delilah starts to take her blazer off, he assists her. Their lips begin to move faster, tongues seeming to fight each other in passion. Delilah's fingers find their way to the bottom of Spencer's sweater, and she pulls it up over his head. She looks at his bare chest for a moment before his lips find hers again.

Spencer's pushed her up against a wall now, one hand on the side of her face and the other up against the wall. Her hands tug through his hair as their mouths move faster.

He kisses down her jaw to her neck, sucking just softly at the skin as he fiddles with the buttons of her jeans. Delilah's head leans back against the wall, a small whimper escaping from her mouth.

"Are you okay with this?" He says, slightly out of breath.

"Yes,” she nods eagerly.

He kisses her neck again, then his lips trail down to her chest. Spencer takes her shirt off, then continues to kiss down her body. When he reaches the top of her waistline, he stops.

On his knees, he looks up, asking once again for permission. Once she grants it, he's pulling Delilah's pants down and off her body.

"Spencer-"

Before she knows it, he's grabbing her hand and pulling her into her bedroom. She hovers above him on the bed. "You're so beautiful."

She smiles, leaning down to kiss him. All of her insecurities are pushed away when his mouth his on hers, when she feels his warmth. He flips their positions, gaining dominance.

"I love you," he says. Delilah's hands tangle in his hair as his mouth works on her. Gasps leave her lips as she feels the sensation.

When he's done, she pulls him down to her mouth, kissing him. Her tongue runs along his bottom teeth. "I love you," Delilah says against his mouth.

She helps him remove his pants and boxers before he unclasps her bra while kissing her neck...

Pulling away from her mouth, he asks if she's ready.

"Yes," she answers, nodding.

His pace stays slow for a while, speeding up with each tug she gives his hair. Moans leave both of their mouths as the pace quickens and gets rougher. She silences his groan with her tongue in his mouth.

You can't believe you just filmed that with Matthew. Obviously, you guys didn't actually have sex. But faking it seemed pretty damn real.

You stay silent as the recap of what just happened runs in your mind.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Matthew says quietly in your ear.

It takes all of your strength not to turn around and slap his stupid face again. Instead, your body shivers, and you hate yourself for it.

You rush to your trailer as soon as you're allowed to. Your entire being is filled with fifty different emotions at once. For some reason, you almost want to cry. Maybe it's out of frustration?

You shut your eyes tightly, pushing back any feeling in your body or stupid thoughts. You pull your knees up to your chest and try to slow your breathing.

There's a knock at your door. Shit. You don't want to answer it, or talk to anybody. The trailer door opens, and the person you want to see the least is standing in the door way.

"Go away, Gubler.”

"Look I'm sorry for what I said earlier. And for calling you a bitch. You were right, I was being immature,” he says.

You nod your head, pushing your lips together tightly. "Actually I said you were an immature assclown."

Matthew chuckles slightly, "Ah yes. That."

It's silent for a moment. You can feel the tension between the two of you. It’s full of frustration and annoyance and attraction.

"Y/n, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to pin you up against a wall since the day I met you.”

You stare at him, wide eyed. Even in shock, you make a sarcastic comment. "Like violently or the saucy way?"

"Definitely the second,” he says calmly.

You try to chuckle, but it comes out as a huff.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. And today the kissing, the touching... it didn't help the situation. Even if it was for the show, it wasn't just acting for me,” Matthew tells you.

"It wasn't for me either..." your words are soft.

"Seriously?"

Oh shit he heard me.

You nod your head with a shrug.

He sits next to you on the couch. "So we're good?"

"We're good. I suppose,” you say with a dramatic breath.

Matthew smiles softly. You grab his face, pulling it down to yours. His lips return the favor immediately.

"We're not having sex here again though.”

"Oh why not? It was kind of sneaky of us,” he says. “Huge turn on.”

You chuckle and roll your eyes, kissing him again.

sixteen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @danis-stuff-is-here @kylakins88 @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @inlovewithcharmers <3

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half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk · 2 months

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Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 26 !!!

bwaaaaa dum 🥁🥁🥁🥁

(that's my version of the intro you're welcome)

The Bad Batch 2x06

Tech is a pro at creating chain codes at this point 💅

"there's something off about this place" bc you can sense it in the force??

GUNGI GUNGI GUNGI 😭💕🤲

Gungi hearing Echo's voice 💔

Echo's turn for the dramatic sigh count lol

lmao Hunter saying "problem?" like its nbd like he can't probably hear/feel them running around out there 💀

"they're with us" Hunter you dropped this 👑

WHO BOUGHT GUNGI 😡

LIGHTSABER !!! 👀

their reactions to him being a jedi 🥲

Gungi's hesitation to get on the ship with them 😭

the batch understanding he's traumatised- I'm 🖐😭

Hunter in dad mode 👌

"my wookiee is a little rusty" Hunter ilysm 💕💕

Hunter says "you catch that?" to Tech... but when they get to Kashyyyk Wrecker is speaking shyriiwook ... 🤔

Hunter's hand on Echo's shoulder while they're discussing what to do with Gungi 🥲

"I say this as a star wars fan but can we stop going to kashyyyk" ~ Zanny - go check out his youtube !!!

Wrecker sharing his food with Gungi !!! 🤲😭

Hunter telling Gungi to hide his "laser sword" and putting his hand on his shoulder 🥺

Wrecker's "woah" seeing the bug things real !!

Gungi teaching them about the animals 💕

Gungi's toof 💕

I wonder if Hunter's senses is a bit like psychometry 🤔

trandoshans are always the bad guys in this show why did I ever question cid ???

Gungi runs out and Hunter's dad mode kicks in and immediately follows him 🥺

Omega checking on Gungi 🤲

the batch really worked through the whole night to save the planet from burning 👑👑👑👑

I WANT ONE OF THE BIG EAR MONKEY DOGS

Yanna 💕👑 welcoming Gungi 😭

every word Hunter understands of Shyriiwook makes my life 🤲🥲

"Jedi or not he's still a child, he needs his people" I'm not crying you're crying

regs ily 😘

the difference in Echo and Wrecker seeing the wookiee water 🤭

are the wookiees all force sensitive or its more like in blue avatar where they can talk to the trees? absolutely love this either way 💕

"they're talking to the trees?" Omega is so fascinated about everything 🥺🤲

"the... trees have a plan? Alright whatever they say" Hunter love your work as always

Wrecker doing the wookiee roar 👌👑

these bug guys make me itchy but they're heroes fr 🙌

"where did the kids go" Hunter was born to have multiple kids 💕

the fire animation has come so far fr one of the biggest animation glow ups 💅

Wrecker speaking shyriiwook !!! 👀

Echo tasting the wookiee water !! and him cheers-ing with the wookiee 🥺 so proud of him

Tech getting up to translate for Hunter 💕

Omega and Gungi talking to the trees together 🥺😭

"perhaps one day we all will find a new path" ~ Yanna said this but Tech translated and hearing him say it just kinda hits different 🥲

"hopefully one far away from war" ~ Hunter but this one also hits different, because me, a star wars fan, knows what is coming and it haunts me every day 💔😭

I love this episode so much I'm so glad Gungi is safe 🤲 I really hope his other little youngling/padawan friends are too, my girl Katooni 💕

huge thanks to everyone who is still following along with my ilysm 🥰 y'alls are the best 🙏

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livelaughwhump · 10 months

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Heyyyyyy! I adore your worrk!!!!!! If it's not a bother, could you possibly make something where Elliot has to be intubated because he can't seem to keep any food down?? Post captivity? If that's too graphic or you're not taking requests that's totally understandable.

Masterlist

Thank you so much!! Of course! This is such an interesting idea and I was very excited to write it! Unfortunately, this probably won't be a canon drabble, because Elliot's eating habits don't actually get this bad, but it's still a fun idea!

I hope you enjoy!

Content: disordered eating, feeding tube, self-hatred, self-deprecation, vomiting, body image issues

If I missed any content warnings, please let me know!

It was 2 a.m.

Normally, the team's safe house would be quiet and asleep, but tonight, a fog of anxiety and dread hung over the house and every team member inside. The lights were on and there was not a sleeping soul inside.

The team was crowded around the bathroom, watching as their youngest member violently vomited up everything in his stomach, just as he'd done for the past three nights.

Broderick was crouched behind Elliot, softly rubbing his back and whispering comforting and reassuring words into his ear. "It's okay, sweet. Just let it out, you're okay."

The rest of the team merely watched from the doorway. The looks on their faces were so terribly sad and exhausted. They hated seeing Elliot like this.

Meanwhile, Elliot's bright red face was covered in tears. Snot was running from his nose and a mix of drool and stomach bile dripped from his lips. He felt absolutely miserable and pathetic. A loud, heavy sob erupted from his chest once he'd finished. His nose and throat were burning, his mouth tasted of stomach bile, and his face was smeared with snot and tears. He felt like the physical depiction of the word 'worthless', and all the while, his friends were watching him. He'd never felt so ashamed.

"Is that all, sweet?" Broderick asked, once Elliot had finished. Elliot gave a slight nod, his face still turned toward the toilet bowl. He couldn't bear for his friends to see his face.

"How are you feeling, love?" Yvonne asked. Her voice was soft and soothing, like always, but Elliot couldn't help the shiver that ran down his back at the sound of it.

Elliot sniffled, his nose burning with the action. "I'm-I'm sorry," he mumbled, almost incoherently. "I-I thought I could do it this time. I-I thought I could..." Elliot couldn't finish his thought before he dissolved into a mess of pitiful sobs. He buried his face in his hands as Broderick continued to rub his back.

Lyra's heart broke as they watched the display. It had been almost a week since they'd started introducing real food back into Elliot's diet, but every time without fail, he threw it all back up again within a matter of hours. He was losing more weight and his skin was growing paler by the day. Lyra didn't know what to do, but they hoped Broderick would.

"Why don't we get you back to bed, love?" Yvonne offered.

Elliot choked on his sobs. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be sorry, darling. You didn't do anything wrong," Yvonne said as she helped Elliot to his feet. He wobbled a bit, and Yvonne had to help him stand. It had been getting harder and harder for him to remain standing for long periods of time. He was growing too weak, and that thought terrified Lyra. Elliot couldn't afford to keep losing weight. Pretty soon, he wouldn't have anything left to lose.

As Yvonne led Elliot back to his room, the rest of the team stared at Broderick, waiting for him to answer the unasked question hanging above their heads.

Broderick sighed and shrugged. "This isn't good, you guys."

Landon scoffed. "Yeah, I think we got that."

Broderick threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "Then, what do you want me to say, Landon?" The medic exclaimed. Yvonne approached from the direction of Elliot's room, silently entering the circle, but no one seemed to notice her. "I wish I could tell you that everything's okay, but it's not! This is the fourth night in a row that he's woken up vomiting, and nothing that I've tried has worked! I thought this was just a mild case of refeeding syndrome, but it's so much worse than I thought and I don't know what to do! Is that what you wanna hear, Landon?" There were tears in Broderick's eyes now, and one by one, they began to fall.

Lyra's lower lip was wobbling. "There's nothing else we can do?" She asked, her voice trembling almost as much as her lip. All eyes turned to her. Broderick lowered his head. Lyra suppressed the sobs building in her chest. "Please, Broderick. I can't lose him again. There has to be something else we can do. Please!"

Broderick shook his head. "Lyra, I'm-"

"No!" Lyra interrupted. "There has to be something else! I don't care what it is! I'm not just going to give up on him, like everyone else in his life has!" Lyra took a deep breath to steady themself. They were exhausted and frustrated and so, so scared. "I'm not just going to let him die, Broderick. That's not an option."

Broderick sighed again, his tense shoulders heaving. "Lyra, I-" he broke off, a thoughtful look on his face. After a few seconds of tense anticipation, Broderick said, "There may be one last thing we can do."

Lyra's eyes widened, but before she had the chance to ask, Yvonne beat her to it, "What is it?"

Broderick bit his lip and scrunched his nose. "The only thing I can think of is implementing a feeding tube."

Landon, Karine, and Lyra all exchanged wordless looks. "A feeding tube?" Lyra repeated. Broderick nodded. "So, what exactly does that entail?"

Broderick folded both arms over his chest. "I would insert a nasogastric tube into his nose, through his oesophagus, and into his stomach."

"But it wouldn't make him throw up?" Yvonne asked.

Broderick shrugged. "It shouldn't, but there's no guarantee. It's only a short-term solution, but it should at least get his stomach used to being full again."

"But what if it doesn't work?" Landon asked.

"Then, our only other option is to take him to the hospital."

Karine shook her head. "Not an option. I don't trust hospitals the way I trust you, Rick, and you know why."

"So, you want me to do it?"

"Shouldn't we talk to Elliot first?" Lyra asked. "This is about his wellbeing, after all."

Broderick nodded. "Of course. It'll be completely up to him. We'll ask him first thing tomorrow morning."

The sound of a soft sniffle followed and all eyes turned toward Elliot's room. Elliot stood in the doorway, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, with the most miserable expression on his face.

"Oh, darling, what are you doing out here?" Yvonne asked, rushing to his side. Elliot turned his gaze down to his feet. "You should be in bed."

Elliot sniffled again. "Just...heard yelling, and I...I'm sorry for eavesdropping."

"Don't be sorry, bud," Landon said. "Hey, it saves us the trouble of having to tell you."

Elliot didn't say anything. He swayed on his feet, but even he didn't know if that was from exhaustion or nerves. He'd heard absolutely everything, and the deep anxiety in the pit of his stomach only worsened with each second of silence.

"So," Broderick began. "What do you think?"

Elliot glanced up. "About what?" He asked.

"About...going on a feeding tube," Broderick clarified. Elliot's face turned pink and his gaze wavered. "It's completely your decision."

Elliot's chin was trembling. "Will-Will it hurt?"

"No, sweetheart, of course not. I would never do anything to hurt you. It might be a little uncomfortable going in, but I can give you some pain meds, and after a while, you won't even know it's there."

Elliot bit his bottom lip to stop the trembling. "If-If I don't do it, am-am I gonna...am I gonna die?" Unlike Elliot's last question, this one was met with hesitation. Elliot's heart dropped as tears flooded his dull eyes. "I don't-I don't wanna die," he cried. "I don't wanna-" Elliot's weak legs gave out as he buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Lyra rushed over to his side and caught him just before he hit the ground. They gently sat and positioned him on their lap, hugging him and rocking him gently. "It's okay, sunshine, you're not gonna die. I won't let that happen to you."

Elliot wept into Lyra's shoulder. "I'm...s-scared."

"I know, love, but it's going to be okay. Broderick's done this before." Lyra turned their gaze on the lurking medic. "Right?" They questioned.

Broderick nodded. "Of course, I've done this loads of time, back in..." Broderick broke off and glanced at Karine, who wore an unreadable expression. "Um...I'll just have to gather the supplies and we can get started whenever you're ready."

Elliot sniffled and looked up with teary eyes. "Wh-What if I'm never ready?"

Lyra hugged him tighter and carded their fingers through his hair. "It'll be all right, Elliot."

Elliot shook his head, pleading eyes staring into Lyra's. "But I don't wanna do this." His voice was small and quivering and it broke Lyra's heart.

"You'll be fine. I'll be there the whole time to hold your hand and talk you through it. Like Broderick said, it won't hurt. It'll just be a little inconvenient for a while. That's all."

Elliot's gaze dropped to the floor. "Okay," he whispered.

Lyra forced a weak smile as they cupped Elliot's face in their hands. "Hey," they said, bringing his attention back up to their eyes. "Everything's gonna be fine. I promise."

Elliot looked absolutely pathetic. His cheeks were sunken and covered in tears. His eyes were red and swollen, snot dripped from his nose and his sandy-blond locks stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was in desperate need of a bath, and probably a hug. Luckily, Lyra was able to provide one of those things in that moment.

Lyra wrapped their arms around the small man on their lap and gently squeezed. Under normal circumstances, Lyra would've hugged him as tight as they possibly could, but now, he was so small and frail that they feared they would crush him if they tried. So, they simply opted to gently hold him against their chest and whisper softly into his ear, "I won't leave your side, sunshine. I won't let you go through this alone, I promise."

. . .

After some brief deliberation, the team ultimately decided to wait until the next morning to implement Elliot's feeding tube. The poor man was already terrified, and performing the procedure at two in the morning with little to no sleep didn't seem like the best idea.

All in all, the procedure took a little over an hour. Elliot had tried his best not to fight it, to remain perfectly still, but he'd been shaking the whole time. The worst part of it was when Elliot had to swallow to tube down himself. It was uncomfortable and invasive and the panic that overwhelmed him made his throat feel tight, which only worsened the discomfort.

When it was finally over, Broderick held a mirror up to his face and said, "What do you think?"

Elliot stared at his reflection as Lyra encouragingly squeezed his hand. There was a thin tube sticking out of his right nostril, hooking around his ear. The tube was taped to his face, and Elliot could make out some sort of colorless liquid moving through it.

The sight made him want to cry, but he forced a fake smile to his face and said, "Th-Thank you, Broderick."

Broderick smiled back. "You feeling okay?"

Elliot nodded. "Just...tired."

"Okay, get some rest, then. I'll be just out here if you need me." Elliot nodded again and Broderick quickly left him and Lyra alone. The second that Broderick was gone, tears began to slip down Elliot's face. He continued to stare at his reflection in the handheld mirror. His hands shaking as he did so.

"Elliot?" Lyra said. Elliot flinched, having completely forgotten that they were even there. "What's wrong? Does it hurt?"

Elliot shook his head and began furiously scrubbing at the tears on his face. "I hate this," he sobbed, dropping the mirror and burying his face in his hands.

Lyra held his hand. "What do you mean?"

A particularly loud sob came from Elliot's throat. "I-I hate b-being so ugly and u-useless! I hate that I can't eat like-like a normal person! I hate that I-that I look like this." Elliot's shoulders heaved with each loud sob he released. His whole body was trembling. "I just want to be normal," he mumbled. The words were muffled by his hands, but Lyra still understood.

Hearing that broke Lyra's heart. It hurt them enough to know that he needed the feeding tube, but to hear that it was only making him hate himself more than he already did? They didn't know what to do. He didn't deserve any of this.

"Well, it-it won't be on long," Lyra assured him. "It's just until your stomach gets used to being full again. Then, we can take it out and try out regular eating again."

Elliot shook his head. "I'm so ugly," he cried.

"No, sunshine, you're not. You are not ugly. You're still pretty, even with the tube."

Elliot lifted his face from his hands and gazed at the mirror once more. He took a few minutes to look at himself once more before he looked at Lyra and said, "I don't feel pretty."

Lyra's heart dropped. "Oh, sunshine." She scooted closer to him and gathered him in her arms, guiding his head to rest on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I wish we didn't have to do this to you, but we didn't have a choice. We weren't trying to make you feel ugly or useless. We just want you to get better. We want you to love yourself again."

Elliot sniffed. "I just want all of this to be over," he whispered.

"I know, sunshine. Someday, it will be. I promise. This won't last forever."

Elliot gently touched the tube running from his nose and behind his ear. As much as he hated it, he had to remind himself that it would make him better, which would make his teammates happy. All he wanted was to make his teammates happy.

Elliot glanced up at his best friend. "Do you...really think I'm pretty?"

Lyra smiled. "You're beautiful."

Elliot's gaze dropped. "But would you say that even if I wasn't?"

"Elliot," Lyra snapped.

Elliot's face burned bright red, and he hunched his shoulders to try and hide it. "I'm sorry," he squeaked.

Lyra sighed. "This is only going to make you feel better. We'll take it off once you've gained a bit of weight."

Elliot nodded. "Okay."

Lyra tilted their head to the side. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Elliot shrugged and laid down atop his soft bed. "Just...wanna sleep 'n f-forget about...everything."

Lyra nodded, helping him pull the soft comforter up to his neck. "I think that's a good idea. You've had a long twelve hours." She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and began to make her way out of the room, but not before she turned and whispered, "Goodnight, sunshine."

Elliot sniffled. "Goodnight, Lyra."

Once he was all alone again, he closed his eyes and started to cry.

Sorry this took so long! I've been super busy and haven't had much time to write! Also, sorry if this isn't entirely medically accurate lol, I'm not a doctor. I hope you enjoyed, though!

If anyone else has any drabble requests, suggestions, or questions for me or my characters, please send them to me!

Taglist:

@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream @honeycollectswhump @rabass @whumpdreamz @clairelsonao3 @rosewriteswhump @cepheusgalaxy @pinkraindropsfell @mj-or-say10 @considerablecolors

If anyone else wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, please let me know!😊

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taomyou · 6 months

Text

The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 6

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 5.9k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking

(A/N: this fic is entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead!)

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table for smith

When you wake up, it's not your alarm that gets you. No, you never turned it on before bed last night. Instead, it's the sound of your phone ringing. You're tempted to let the phone call go, but you don't want to miss anything important enough for someone to call in the first place. You can barely bring yourself to open your eyes, much less check who's calling, but you tap the green "accept call" icon and wait for whoever's on the other end of the line to speak first.

"Hello?" The voice says to you. You genuinely cannot tell who's speaking, so you rub your eyes to try and get used to the light sneaking in from behind your blinds. Surely, it's not a client right now—you have a different ringtone for the ones you have pre-saved in your contacts.

"Who is this?" Your voice sounds groggy, but you can't really bring yourself to care in this moment. You hear a bit of commotion in the background of the call, but still no voices you can decipher. You pull your phone away from your ear to check the caller ID, but it's an unsaved number. Before you can hang up, however, a different voice speaks up, and you do recognize it this time.

"Hello!"

You immediately bolt up and get yourself seated on your bed, holding your pillow to your stomach. "Isabel?"

"The one and only!"

You let yourself fall back onto your bed, closing your eyes again.

"How'd you get my number?" You ask, voice still weak having just woken up. You're not angry—just very, very confused.

"I asked Hange for it!"

You guess that explains it well enough. Still, why is she calling you?

"Okay... why are you calling me so early in the morning?"

"What're you talking about? It's almost 12," Isabel says.

Again, you peel your phone away from your ear to check the time; 11:57 AM.

That late already? It felt like you were just texting Levi and closing your eyes.

You sigh and press the speaker icon before getting up to get ready for the day, not that you have anything planned in particular, though. Maybe you'll head over to the store later to get some ingredients for dinner; you feel like making something for yourself. In the background, you can hear the first voice from earlier say something to Isabel along the lines of "what kind... butter..." You choose to ignore that and instead reply to Isabel, and you start getting up to head for your bathroom.

"Sorry, I just woke up."

"That's okay! Good morning to you!"

"Good morning." After setting your phone down on the sink counter, you unscrew the cap for your toothpaste before squeezing some out onto your toothbrush. You quickly run it under some water and pop your toothbrush into your mouth before walking back to your bedroom while Isabel talks.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but could you stay on the phone with me while I'm grocery shopping?"

You put your phone face-up on the spot next to you as you sit down.

"Sure, but what do you need me for?" Your voice is muffled, seeing as you're brushing your teeth, but when Isabel doesn't ask you to repeat yourself, you figure that she can hear you clear enough to understand you.

"Well, me and Furlan decided we would try our hand at making the egg tarts with the recipe you sent Levi last night, but we don't really know what we're looking for."

At the mention of Levi, you take a quick pause.

Well, it does make sense he'd share the recipe with them, but you figured he'd be there to help them figure out what they needed. You don't know who Furlan is, but his name has come up enough times in conversation with the group for you to just assume he's a close friend of Levi and Isabel's. Well, seeing as you don't have anything to do today, what's the harm in staying on the phone with them?

"Yeah, give me a second to finish brushing my teeth first." You leave your phone on your bed to go and finish brushing your teeth and handle other bathroom business. After you finish washing your hands, you head back into your bedroom to take your phone with you into the kitchen. "Okay, I'm back."

There's a quiet before Isabel comes back to you. "Thank you! Okay, so which butter do we need? Does it matter if it's made in Europe?"

You hum, going to fill your kettle with water and turn it on. "No, just take whatever's cheapest. And it'd be better if it was unsalted, but it doesn't really make much of a difference."

You hear a bit of laughter in the background. "See, I told you that it didn't matter if it was expensive!" You hear a bit of shuffling around where you assume that the phone has been handed over to someone else, and that voice is clearer. "We haven't met before, but this is Furlan."

You tell him your name, reaching above to your upper cupboards for your teapot. "Nice finally meeting you. Well, at least over the phone." Once your teapot's safely on your counter, you head over to grab some tea from a small basket near your kettle. You decide on some raspberry tea to start the day.

You go back and forth like this, with either Isabel or Furlan asking you what brand, type, or even color of something to get should be.

It's quite hilarious, kind of like backseat driving. Your mother would do the same for you when you were younger and had trouble picking out the best vegetables and whatnot at the supermarket, and you did the same for your brother every so often when he needed the help. All the while, you're sitting peacefully at your dining table and sipping your tea, careful not to burn your tongue.

Isabel and Furlan excuse themselves from the call, but thank you for your help before it ends. You smile as you say your "goodbyes" to them and quickly add Isabel's number into your contacts. Stretching your arms and legs, you get up from your spot at the table and head over to get dressed and go to the supermarket. You make sure everything's clean before leaving, too, just so you won't have to fiddle around much before you can get to cooking.

The supermarket you frequent near your apartment complex looks overwhelmingly busy and there's no parking, probably because there's some kind of sale, so you decide to ignore it and drive the extra 5 minutes to try your hand at the market on Rose. Maybe Sasha's working so you can thank her for helping Mikasa's birthday run well last night. You applaud yourself for your decision to go there instead, seeing as there's plenty of parking available and you don't need to take a long walk to get to the entrance. You make sure you lock your car before heading in.

There's a big, loud sign at a bin full of cabbages promoting a sale, so you settle for making a nice meal for yourself with them. You pick up a few, seeing if they're good to use, and eventually bag some to put in your cart. It's still quite cold out, so you figure a stew pot would be nice. You pick out a few other vegetables before heading over to grab some other things you need. You take your time going through the aisles before heading over to the bakery, memory of them fresh since you were here just a few hours ago.

You can see Sasha a bit away, putting a cake into the display case. She seems to be talking to a customer all the while, so you wait for them to finish their interaction before you head over and wave. When she notices you, her eyes light up, and she returns your wave. You exchange greetings while she finishes up with the display case, then moving over to the counter to get closer to her.

"Whatcha' doin' here?" She asks, putting her hands into the pockets of her apron.

"I'm just getting some stuff for dinner, but I also wanted to come back and say thanks for having a good time with Mikasa yesterday. She seemed really happy she got to go out with you guys," you tell her. She smiles and gets into the same mock salute from yesterday.

"You're very welcome!" She relaxes, and the two of you giggle. "It's been a while since we all got together, since her, Eren, and Armin are all worked to death—no offense to you, of course."

You wave her off. "No offense taken, I'm also overworked."

"You know, there's a position open here for assistant baker," she jests.

"I'll send in my resume tonight."

Funnily enough, you wanted to be a baker when you were younger, hence why you make so much time to bake even now. It's a dream that never amounted to anything that made you money, but you realized at some point that it was better to keep that part of yourself separate from work. It's nice, though, that Sasha's been able to pursue that, regardless of if it's her long-term goal or not.

You notice a few pastries you hadn't seen before in one of the display cases at the other end of the bakery area, and you strike up conversation with Sasha about what they are. She's a bit surprised that you're well-informed about baking as she's explaining everything, but you can tell that she's happy to be talking with someone who can understand her when she's talking about her work. You can see the edges of her eyes crinkling as she smiles, letting you know that she's genuinely enjoying your conversation. You pull up certain steps she explains on your phone, and she talks you through things you don't know.

The exchange goes for quite some time, but before you can let her go, she waits for you to finish talking about something before looking over your shoulder.

"Is there someone waiting for you?" She asks. Looking behind you, you see Levi at the end of one of the aisles. When he makes eye contact with you, he just as quickly looks away at something on the shelf in front of him.

After yesterday, you feel a bit nervous to see him, but it's nothing for you to necessarily be afraid of. You nod to Sasha, and she quickly goes to grab you a pastry from the back kitchen before you have to exchange "goodbyes." You promise to come back soon, and she promises to look forward to that.

Seeing that Levi's still in the same place, you make your way over to him, careful to not bump into any of the displays in your path.

"Hi. It's nice seeing you here," you greet.

"Yeah." Not much of a talker today, huh. He's wearing athletic clothing, which is quite different from the formal or semiformal attire you usually see him in, so he probably came from doing some exercise that tired him out. Even with the lack of formality present in his outfit, he still looks good. Great, even, but that's not really any surprise. He looks over at you, then glances over at your cart. "What're you here for?"

"Just getting some things for dinner. What about you?" You take note of his lack of cart or basket, coupled with a lack of item in his hands.

"My roommates texted me during my run and told me to buy a bag of flour."

Come to think of it, Isabel and Furlan never asked you what kind of flour they needed. Not that the answer would be anything crazy or out of the ordinary, but you figured they knew that already and didn't bother asking you.

"Isabel and Furlan are your roommates?" At the mention of them by name, he looks at you again.

"How do you know that?"

"They called me earlier for help picking stuff out. I figured you were talking about them."

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I told them to wait for me to text you, not for them to fucking call you. I didn't think they were serious about making anything today." You laugh, bringing up your hand to cover your smile. "Sorry about them."

"It's no problem. Besides, I wasn't busy with anything, so I didn't mind."

"Still." You hum. Remembering the pastry you have from Sasha, you tear half of the parchment sheet she used to wrap it, then use that to tear off half of the sweet. You hold it out to Levi. "What's that?"

"Take some, the baker here gave it to me." When he doesn't move to take it, you keep going. "Or if you don't want it, you can give it to Isabel."

He sighs before taking it, careful to not touch the treat itself. "Thank you. I'll give it to her when I'm home." You take that as your cue to say goodbye, but before you can do that, though, he calls out to you. You stay in place, nodding for him to keep talking. "What flour do I need?"

You smile, then putting your hands on the handles of your cart. "I'll show you."

After you put your half of the pastry in the smaller section of the cart and he does the same, careful to make sure the parchment prevented the pastry from touching the cart, the two of you walk alongside one another. It's almost like the time you came for the eggs and butter all the while ago, but this time, you aren't upset about work. Well, it's still a pain, but that first week was especially rough.

When you reach the flour, you point out which ones he could get, and he picks the cheapest bag he can. You offer to let him put it in your cart, which he does, and the two of you head over to the cash register together.

As you're laying your things on the conveyor belt, you can't help but feel a bit shy. It feels quite domestic, the way you two are out right now. It felt different the last time you were here together—back then, you were both dressed in work attire and lugging around your respective bags and struggling to make conversation, but it's not like that at all this time around.

You're both dressed rather casually, and there's no pressure or rush for you to be anywhere at all.

While Levi's looking down at his phone, you take away the little divider that would've separated the flour from your things. He doesn't realize it until after you've paid, but he doesn't say anything to you in protest. Instead, he wordlessly helps load everything back into the cart and pushes it himself out of the store.

Once you're out of the store and out of the main walkway, you both stop. You hand Levi his half of the pastry and a bag with the flour after checking to make sure that none of your things are in there.

"Thanks for paying for the flour," he says.

You wave him off. "Don't worry about it. It was, like, 5 bucks." He nods.

"Again, sorry about Isabel and Furlan calling you. It probably woke you up."

"It did, but it was almost noon anyway."

"Sleeping in that late now?"

You playfully go to punch his shoulder, careful not to knock anything out of his hands. "You're the one that told me to sleep well."

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away. "Yeah, yeah."

You take your bags out of the cart before pushing it back into another one in the general area where they are. Him not having moved, you smile at Levi and instinctually go to wave, but you feel the weight of the bag keep your arm down. He rolls his eyes again, probably in his own way of laughing at you, but returns the "wave" with his own.

"It was nice running into you, Levi! Get home safe!" You yell after him, given the distance.

"I will, you get home safe too." He doesn't speak any louder than he does before, but there's no one around for you to not be able to hear him. You nod at him before turning to make your way back to your car, smile not leaving your face.

Once you've gotten everything in your trunk and you're seated at the wheel, you go to message Levi to remind him you're free if him, Isabel, and Furlan need any help with understanding the recipe. After the short drive back to your apartment and a somewhat longer walk back up to your unit, you check your phone to see that he replied, saying that you should prepare yourself for a barrage of phone calls from Isabel when they get started. You laugh, and have your phone on the counter as you get dinner prepared.

It's nothing difficult; you're basically just cutting things up and throwing them into a pot, but it's relaxing, and you feel satisfied taking a sip of the broth as you're waiting for it to finish cooking.

You get your first phone call from Isabel around 5, just after you finish putting away your cutting board and knives. When you pick up, you hear chaotic banging of what sounds like pans and other metal appliances in the background of her asking if you need to butter the tins (and her also thanking you for half of the pastry Sasha gave you). You tell her that you do need to butter them, and you can practically hear Levi rolling his eyes at her as an "I told you so."

The second phone call you get from her phone is not even 5 minutes later, and this time it's Furlan who asks you how to measure everything without a kitchen scale (which, to his credit, is on you for only writing in the weight measurements for everything), and you direct him as best as you can, your own recipe book open to the page in front of you to make sure the conversions are correct. You can hear Isabel and Levi arguing faintly in the back, though it's mostly Isabel trying to get Levi to stop criticizing how she washes the dishes as they're being brought out. All the while, you're taking small spoonfuls of your stew, savoring the flavor.

The third phone call you get from Isabel is her asking things completely irrelevant to baking, mostly just random questions that pop into her mind. Furlan and Levi take the phone away periodically to actually ask you how to do things, but Isabel always wrestles it back from them to ask another "would you rather" question that you answer in earnest. During this phone call, you finish up with your dinner and head over to the sink to get everything clean and then put the rest of it into the fridge for the next day. When she ends the call to wait for the tarts to bake, you decide to skip over to the bathroom and take a quick shower.

As the water falls over your head, you let yourself feel relaxed. It's the first weekend you've had in a while that wasn't out spending time with Hange, Erwin, Levi, and the rest of their crew, not that you hated spending time with them or anything, but it gets you a bit tired at the end of the day. Sure, you ran into Levi earlier and you've spent most of the day basically with Furlan and Isabel, but that felt refreshing in its own way. Maybe getting to sleep in instead of being dragged around by Hange was what made it feel different, but you'll ignore that. When you step out of the shower, you brush your teeth and grab a towel to dry your hair before going to bed early. You let yourself melt into your mattress, but keep your phone near you in case Levi or Isabel calls again.

You can feel yourself slowly drifting off, but before you're fully gone, you hear your phone ring again for the fourth time. "Hello?"

"Isabel told me to tell you to look at the pictures she sent you," Levi says.

You hum, putting your phone on speaker and then tapping around to open the message from Isabel. It was sent a couple of minutes ago, which explains why you didn't hear the notification over the sound of the shower.

The first one is relatively simple, just a small plate with three tarts on them. They all look a bit different from one another, so you assume they're all made by different people.

The second photo is a selfie of (who you assume is) Furlan with Levi and Isabel arguing behind him in the kitchen, which you laugh at.

The last picture is of Levi taking the tarts out of the oven, with Isabel and Furlan's hands at the bottom of the shot in a thumbs-up. You roll your eyes, but make sure you save all of them to your photo gallery.

"You guys should open a photography studio."

You hear Levi scoff. "Yeah, right." You yawn before pulling your blanket over yourself, turning over to your side. "Are you in bed already?"

"I'll have you know that," you check the time on your phone, "8:32 PM is a perfectly good time to be in bed."

"If you say so." You laugh, switching your phone back to regular volume instead of having it on speaker. "Don't let me keep you up then."

You yawn again. "Nah, I have a few more minutes left in me." It's a complete lie, but you don't really want the day to end, even if you didn't end up actually doing much.

"You definitely do not," Levi says, then calling over Isabel and Furlan. "Okay, say 'thank you.'" You laugh at the visual of this; he's acting like a dad forcing his kids to say 'thank you' at Christmas. You hear Isabel say something first.

"Thanks for helping us today! They turned out really yummy, even if we didn't wait for them to get cold." You tell her it's no problem, then it's Furlan's turn.

"Thank you, we couldn't have done it without you. They're good, but they're not nearly as nice as the ones you sent with Levi." At the compliment, you hum, closing your eyes. You again tell Furlan it's no problem, and that you'll send more with Levi when you get the time, and maybe you can meet him in-person sometime too. Furlan gives the phone back to Levi.

"What they said," says Levi. You laugh.

"No 'thank you?'"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." You yawn for the third time that phone call, stretching out on your bed. "I think I gotta go."

"I can tell." There's a pause before he speaks again. "Good to know you're getting your sleep back."

You nod slightly to yourself. "Me too."

"Take it easy at work."

"I will. I don't know much about how work is for you, but if Hange's right and you're really as famous as they say, you should take it easy too."

"They're not wrong, but I don't care. About being famous, I mean."

You make mental note of the fact, though it probably won't register with how tired you are. "Goodnight, Levi."

"Goodnight. Sleep well."

Before you even need to think about getting the energy to pick up your phone and end the call, you hear the end note from Levi's end and let yourself fall asleep.

✰

Sunday goes smoothly enough, again not doing anything quite productive. You took Levi's words to heart, pretty much sleeping the entire day away.

Monday passes well enough, without having to see many clients. You stayed later than usual to finish some of Tuesday's paperwork early, leaving the office dead last at 8 in the evening and just barely making the bus, but you went to bed decently happy and excited for the next day, seeing as Hange got you and them a reservation at Sina's Kitchen for the two of you.

Sina's Kitchen is the hardest restaurant to get a table at in the city, and you've never been able to get in before. Not that you tried particularly hard, but the website boasted a months-long waitlist, and you couldn't be bothered to figure out how to even set up a reservation. When Hange first invited you to dinner with them for Valentine's Day, you figured they were just going to take you to a small local diner, and the two of you would finish out the night with whatever bad reality TV would be on air when you got back to your apartment. You asked on Sunday morning over the phone where you'd be eating so you could preemptively choose an outfit.

"Where are we going on Tuesday, anyway?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you? We're eating at Sina's."

You sarcastically laughed at them. "Yeah, sure we are." When they didn't laugh with you, you just had to ask. "We are?"

"Yeah!"

Upon the knowledge that you'd be going to be having dinner on what is one of the busiest days in the dining industry at the most famous restaurant in the city, you texted Mikasa to ask if she wanted to get ready together. You knew she was going to spend her Valentine's Day with someone, her having mentioned it on Friday at her office birthday party, though you didn't know who she was seeing. You don't ask her, and she doesn't ask you who you're having dinner with. She replied that she was wanting to ask but wasn't sure if you'd be up for it, to which you told her she'd be welcome over anytime at your place.

Which brings you to Tuesday, where you've gotten most of your work done for the day yesterday, and you can finally have lunch with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin again in your office. You've missed having them spend this time with you, but work was still too unforgiving to let that happen unless you stayed late like you did yesterday.

When you're back from a quick trip down the hall to deliver some paperwork before lunch, Eren looks over at you from his spot at your desk. You smile at him as you go to sit at your seat, then stretching your arms above your head and yawning. He keeps his gaze on you but seems to be thinking over what he should say.

"What's up?"

"Who are you seeing tonight?"

"Huh?"

At Eren's comment, Mikasa kicks him underneath the table. "I told you not to ask."

Your phone beeps several times, and you pick it up to see several text messages from Hange.

Hange - 12:25 PM

Don't forget dinner tonight! Dress fancy :D Maybe that dress you wore to your Barrister's Ball? Actually, make sure you wear something blue Maybe like blue-grey? Idk what color exactly but something like that And that one necklace you wore! I think you wore it when we went out with Erwin and Levi the first time

You roll your eyes halfheartedly and reply to your friend.

"See! She's smiling at her phone! She's texting her date!" Eren accuses.

Now, it's your turn to kick Eren's leg underneath the table. "Yes, I'm texting my hot, sexy, rich date. I'm telling them all about how much I hate a green-eyed, brown-haired intern working at the same firm as me." He angrily takes a bite from his sandwich, trying to kick you back. You bring your legs closer to yourself before he can.

"Eren, calm down, she doesn't hate you," Armin reassures him.

"Oh, yes. I do." You all, save for Eren who rolls his eyes, laugh before going back to your food and casual conversation. "Got anything planned tonight, Armin?"

"Not really, just going to catch up on some studying." You smile bitterly at him, nodding.

"It's okay."

He wipes away at an invisible tear, a smile on his face. "I know."

"See, Eren, there's a man who's secure being single," you joke. Instead of him sending an insult in return, him and Mikasa look at each other, and then at you. Armin's also looking at Eren and her. Weird. "Anyway, how's everyone doing? I haven't really gotten to talk to you guys much lately. Well, except for Mikasa, I work with her everyday."

Armin slumps further into his chair, and Eren groans dramatically.

"I want to quit," Eren whines.

Armin nods. "It's getting to be a lot, is it normally like this?"

You reach for your teacup, frowning slightly. "It gets bad, but it hasn't ever lasted this long." You trust that management is trying their best to get things solved, but Erwin still hasn't been able to tell you yet what's going on for you to really think things will get better soon. It's gotten a little better and most people in the office have had a cut in their paperwork, but you haven't really seen much of a difference for yourself. "You get used to it eventually."

The four of you move onto making lighter conversation, talking about past Valentine's Days and gossiping about other people in the office. Just as you always do, you shoo Eren and Armin away after lunch has run its course, and you and Mikasa get to work.

You end your work relatively early, seeing as you handled most of it yesterday, so you help Mikasa with hers until you're both done and ready to leave around 3. Petra took the day off today, and so Mikasa was able to bring her car for the two of you to leave and get ready at your place. She's having dinner at a restaurant near Sina's, so you both figured it would be easier to have her drop you off, and have Hange drive you home after.

You're both too tired to really carry any sort of conversation, seeing as work has drained you both once again, but she lets you connect your music to her car, and you try to choose music that you think she'll enjoy. You speak up to let her know what highway and roads to turn into, and she follows along. When you reach the parking complex at your apartment building, you offer to carry her backpack so she can carry up her dress and other items she needs to get ready.

She follows you inside your apartment, and once you've both had a second to settle in and get something to drink, you drag her with you to your room where you have a full-body mirror, and you both start getting ready. It feels fun—almost like you're teenagers getting ready for a school dance.

You get in a blue dress, just as Hange directed (you assume they want to match), and Mikasa puts on a well-fitted red dress before you pull her again in front of your bathroom mirror with a box of your jewelry. You let her try some on, and once she puts on a pair of dainty moon drop earrings, you force her to take them. She does the same with some of the hair accessories she brought, and she forces you to keep a hairpin that has a small star and a few crystals hanging from it.

After checking and making sure you both look ready, the two of you make sure you have everything you need before heading downstairs back to Mikasa's car.

You carry on a bit of conversation now that Mikasa's driving again, but it's nothing particularly deep. Better to not accidentally sour the mood before Valentine's Day can really get itself started.

"Wait, so who's your date tonight?" You ask, knowing you won't get the chance to ask again before you get to Sina's. Even under the dim glow that the city lights provide, you can see her blush.

"Who are you about to see, then?"

"I asked first, but I'm with Hange today, so you know that's not a date. Now you answer."

She seems to hesitate before answering, but there's a small smile on her face when she does tell you. "Eren."

Your mouth gapes open, and then it closes. That's why they were being so weird earlier. Not your place to really judge in the first place, but they actually do seem like they'd be good together. There's probably some HR person that would disagree with you, but Eren and Mikasa can deal with that when (not "if") they get hired. Oluo and Petra make it work, so they probably can too.

"Good for you, Mikasa." She rolls her eyes (out of love, hopefully) before making a turn to get you to Sina's. You check the time; 7:58 PM. A bit late for your liking, but right on time for 8. Once she's parked, you make sure you have all your things in your purse before getting out. She rolls the window down.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Astraea."

You smile at her, waving. "Happy Valentine's Day. Tell me all about it tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah."

And with that, you see her car drive away. Well, more like you see her car get lost in city traffic.

When you get inside the restaurant, you take your phone from out of your purse and check for any messages Hange left. Sure enough, there's a text telling you they're already inside and to use the name "Smith" for the table. When you text back asking why, they tell you that Erwin's the one who got the reservation. Earnestly, you don't question it. Erwin's a powerful enough man in this city, even as only a managing associate at the firm, so you're not all that surprised Hange reached out to have him book you the table for the night. Explains how you got the spot on such short notice.

Pocketing your phone, you go up to the reservation desk. "What can I help you with today, ma'am?" The reservationist there asks.

"Hi, I have a reservation under 'Smith,' at 8," you tell him. He looks over at the computer situated under the countertop of the desk and lightly bobs his head, and you can hear the faint clicking of his mouse scrolling through what is likely the reservation list. He nods before calling over a hostess over to look at whatever's got his attention. She nods before looking over to you, her hand gesturing for you to follow her.

As you're walking through the booths and past other people, you feel a bit star-struck. Not really because you see anyone particularly famous, but it feels like such an elite environment to be in. You don't feel out of place, seeing as you're a lawyer and you're in these types of settings quite often, but it still feels unfamiliar in most regards. The people aren't particularly loud and the lights aren't too bright for your eyes, but something about being there feels overwhelming.

"Here you are," she says, placing the menu at the table. "Your server will be with you shortly." You nod to her, and she leaves. You can't see Hange, since they're seated on the same side as where you're standing, so you walk forward to get to your place in the booth where there's already a glass of water for you. Before you can sit, though, you hear them choke on their drink, and you look over at them to instead see...

"Levi?"

✰

Next Chapter

#levi ackerman x reader #levi aot #levi x reader #levi ackerman #tao.levi #the romance of reimbursements #attack on titan

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skzlover96 · 1 year

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Dirt

Hi guys! Actually, this is my first English fanfic, which is also my first fic here on Tumblr, yay! It's actually quite angsty, so buckle up, it's gonna be a rough journey lol I'm still trying to figure out how everything works here + English is not my first language, so please understand hehe TW: self-loathing, gossips, appearance issues, pretending, members being insulted, social anxiety, panicking, generally depressive text; let me know if I missed anything Disclaimer: the text below does not represent any real people and is created as a work of fiction only; whatever is written here is not meant to insult, hate, or mock anyone — fictional or not

Dirt

It streams down his skin, staining it, and pooling under his feet. It's everywhere — he can't wash it away, he can't hide.

Changbin hugs himself, tries to cover his ears.

"Damn freak. How dare you want to be a visual."

"You look more like a pig than a bunny."

"If I was you, I'd throw all the mirrors away. Like, you know, don't wanna get a heart attack after seeing my face."

He can't erase this voices from his memory. They whisper and whisper in his head, and Changbin curls up in his bed, desperately trying to escape from them.

It doesn't get any better.

Felix desperately tries to catch his breath, panicking, still shaking from his dream.

There's this dirt again, and it's coming from him.

He is filthy.

He is wrong.

Such a disgrace for the members.

Useless.

"I don't get your mumbling. How can you be a singer if you can't even talk properly?"

"You are cute, but we need to cover these. They look like dirt."

Disgust.

Whispers.

"You are pulling them down."

Felix rolls around and pulls the blanket up to his shoulders.

It still won't help him sleep again, neither does it warm him up.

Hyunjin tries not to pay attention. It won't touch him if he doesn't listen. But whispers brush against his skin, staining him, soaking into him.

"You are just a pretty face. Who would you be without your beauty?"

"Well, obviously they recruited you. You're lucky, handsome"

"Yeah, but he's definitely rotten on the inside. Scandals don't just pop up out of nowhere. Don't you think he really was a school bully?"

Hyunjin doesn't listen. But he still feels dirty.

Jisung feels guilty and sorry. He loves making music, he loves performing, he loves to see Stays' starry eyes and hear his name being said by a thousand voices.

But why do you all need to touch him?

Fear wraps its sticky hands around his throat every time they come to an airport. Han knows it was his choice to live followed by cameras and hungry gazes, but he still can't get used to them. Too many people, too close, too loud.

Everything is too much.

All of them want to touch him, and someone even succeeds, making Jisung shiver. The touch burns his skin, and Han thinks that if he looks at his hand, he'll see it printed onto his body forever.

Dirt, dirt, dirt.

On the inside Han is screaming on the top of his lungs. But, as usual, no one hears him.

Chan is drowning. The thought that he failed again despite all the promises suffocates him.

Years of training without debut.

Heinous face in the mirror every day.

Endless responsibility for everyone and everything that nearly crashes him.

He's just...wrong.

He just wants everything to be perfect. He wants his loved ones to be safe and sound. He wants to... What does he really want, actually?

Chang looks in the mirror and gives his reflection a tired smile.

Make up hides inner dirt perfectly.

Minho can't even remember if this version of him is real or not. He used to be softer. He used to be lightsome.

But somehow softness and light won't help him reach his dream.

He learns to cut throats and give disdainful looks.

He digs his newly found claws into his dream and bites it till it bleeds on him.

He despises all this dirt, but if it helps him to glow again as he used to — softly, happily, without looking back, without being weak, — well, Minho is ready to pretend dirty no matter what.

#stray kids angst #stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #cerberus writes #god forgive me I love them boys

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morefandomscenarios · 2 years

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Childhood friends (pt1...?)

A/N: Wtf is this word vomit oh god look away people Childhood sweethearts to lovers will always be the bane of my existence sdkfjlsdf

Uhhh this is mostly platonic tho, no full-on romance cause they're kids, just a lil bit of crushing (if you squint). Might or might not continue this lol idk

Proofreading? What's that???

Luffy

Befriends you instantly because he thinks you're so cool and so fun to be around (you have no idea why, you just saw this boy for the first time today???)

You soon get used to him and his antics though.

He doesn't understand what's so fun when you're playing jump rope using his arm, but oh well you're having fun so he's having fun too!

And of course he asks you to join his pirate crew early on.

Shanks always teases the two of you because you "would make such a cute couple".

Before you know it you've fit so well into the role of his 'caretaker'.

And so whenever you come around Makino will always ask how Luffy is doing.

"How should I know??" "Well, aren't you two always together?"

He visits you regularly and tells you all the stories of his adventures with his two brothers.

A lot of times he sneaks down the mountains and not so secretly pulls you with him so you can tag along in his adventures.

Ace and Sabo warm up to you quickly, seeing how attached their youngest brother is to you.

You're the one he cries on when he worries about Ace's safety as the Grey Terminal burns, when he's devastated over Sabo's "death", and when Ace inevitably leaves on his own journey.

Following Ace's departure, you become his regular sparring partner, and even though you're not anywhere as strong as Ace or Sabo, at least you get to spend time with him a lot more now.

The two of you regularly monitor Ace's progress through newspapers and Luffy keeps telling you how looking forward he is to set sail.

Whenever he can't fall asleep, he's talking your ears off about the possible adventures out there in the open sea.

Dadan doesn't appreciate having to take care of one more brat but once she sees the way you handle Luffy so flawlessly, she keeps her complaints to a minimum.

Finally a brat who doesn't give her regular headaches.

When it's time for him to set sail, he does so with you on his side and he's never been so excited in his life.

Law

You said hello to him first, and regretted it immediately.

Who is this murderous looking boy and why is he glaring at you as if you've just killed his entire family?

Yeah, your first meeting doesn't leave a good first impression.

But you keep doing it out of politeness and curiosity, whenever you see him out and about.

And he never replies, just gives you a glare before continuing on his way.

You have no idea why he's being so... mean, when you're just trying to befriend the new boy who just appeared out of nowhere.

But then one day there's a fluffy white bear-person trailing behind him, and bear-guy returns your greeting when you greet murder-eyes.

You ended up befriending the cute bear, who then he tells you grumpy-cat' name.

The next day you meet them again, you greet him with his actual name.

And this time he surprisingly acknowledges you with a nod.

Oh? That's an improvement.

This becomes a regular occurrence. You'll meet them every day, walk around and talk with them for a while, then you'll go off and do your own things.

You think Law hates your presence because of how cold and snippy he is whenever you try talking to him, and that he tolerates you only because Bepo seems to like you.

But then, one day you didn't show up on time.

As you hurry towards the scene, you find the two actually waiting for you, on the spot where you would usually greet them and join them for a walk.

And much to your shock, it's Law who asks whether something happened.

Huh. Maybe he doesn't hate you as much as you thought.

From thereon, you don't break off from the two for almost the whole day.

None of them complains.

Soon enough you meet Shachi and Penguin, and you wonder if you need to change your name or appearance to some sort of animal that has affinity with the ocean, just to qualify hanging out with Law.

He just stares at you blankly when you propose this to him.

"Are you an idiot?"

The first time you see Law using his power, you're half scared and half amazed.

Bepo had eaten a whole fish and its bone had been stuck in his throat.

One second you're panicking, the next second Law mutters an incantation of some sort, enveloping the three of you in a transparent blue sphere, and now he's calmly cutting the polar bear's throat open.

You would've screamed and accused him for murder if you hadn't known how much Law treasures the bear mink.

Mouth open in amazement, you watch as he throws the problematic bone away and re-attaches Bepo's head.

"What was THAT??" "It's Captain's power!" "That's amazing!!"

You think you see Law blushing but you're convinced it must be a trick of lights because when you blink the usual constipated expression is back on his face.

It's safe to say that soon enough, you're calling Law your 'Captain' just like the others.

He never objects or corrects you in any way. Just rolls his eyes and looks away from you the first time you call him with the title.

Unbeknownst to you, he's willing himself to not blush.

Kid

Little shit Kid finds you when he's strolling about, bored out of his mind, and is drawn by the cool toys you have.

Proceeds to steal not-so-kindly tell you to hand them over so he can take a look.

He's awed at how original and nice they look, despite how some parts are wonky and mismatched - they're obviously handmade, and yet every single one of them fascinates him to no end.

Doesn't believe you at first when you proceed to tell him that you made them yourself.

Cue him inviting himself over to watch you make the little toys.

He's instantly enthralled.

You've just established yourself as the second favorite person in his list now. Congrats.

Gives you a few ideas of his own as you work. Tries his hand in the creation process himself. Falls in love with the activity.

Killer slowly joins the two of you when he finds out where Kid has been running off to. He's pleasantly surprised at how well you're handling the feral child his friend.

And then suddenly you find yourself having two extra companies everywhere you go.

They teach you to steal, run away from authorities chasing you, how to defend yourself and how to win against opponents way bigger and stronger than you.

Kid thinks you're kinda weak but pretty awesome. Killer is just glad he has an extra pair of eyes to watch over Kid.

Eventually they show you their 'secret hideout'... which is more like a tiny dilapidated shack built out of various materials they scraped off some garbage heap.

You fear that the whole thing will collapse while they're sleeping and decide to study more on building and construction to help them reinforce it.

When he decides to become a pirate, he doesn't ask you or Killer to become part of his crew. You just are. Period.

Literally, one day Kid just drags you to train with them, saying how you've got to be stronger since you're part of his pirate crew now.

He sulks whenever you deny hanging out with him (read: training with him and Killer) in favor of some 'stupid books'.

But the moment he discovers that you've been studying and is working on a blueprint for a ship - his ship - he's smiling from ear-to-ear.

"[name], the figurehead should be a dragon!! It'll be THE COOLEST SHIP!!!" "... That's so tacky."

Cue Kid smacking you across your head.

He keeps pestering you as you work, so you ended up adding it into the blueprint out of annoyance.

"A dragon SKULL figurehead? .... [name], you're the fucking best." "... You know that means we're gonna have to kill an actual dragon before we can actually build the ship?"

Ah yes, there's Killer, ever the voice of reason.

He does eventually slay "a creature that might have been a dragon but could just also be a sea king" but that's still a story in the future.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #trafalgar law #eustass kid #headcanon

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ditttiii · 3 years

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gold rush. || kth {m}

⇢ summary: kim taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. all narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is everyone’s dream. after months of sharing an elevator with the man who makes your heart race until you can scarcely breathe when the chance finally comes; are you willing to risk it all for his touch?

⇢ genre: porn with feelings, soft smut, angst, is unresolved tension and feelings a genre?

⇢ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

⇢ word count: 4.4k

⇢ rating: explicit / 18+

⇢ theme: strangers to lovers, s2l!au

⇢warning/s: public/elevator sex, exhibitionism, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (female receiving), lots of kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex? reader’s on the pill, swearing, tension and so much of it, unresolved-repressed feelings, taehyung is a certified dingus & reader is hopelessly smitten.

⇢ a/n: betaed by @yeojaa who owns my heart and is the most precious bean ever.

also have all my virtual, socially distanced cuddles @btsmosphere @papillonsgf @birbdae & @unoriginal-username15432. if it weren’t for their support this wouldn’t be out today. my gratitude knows no bounds ♡ also big thanks to taylor for the fic title.

banner by @chillingkoo & moodboard by @today-we-will-survive their art breathed life into this fic ♡ a belated birthday fic for one mr.kim taehyung & the beautiful @kerikaaria. this fic is also my submission for @thebtswritersclub january monthly project.

lastly, i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy it x 2021 here v go ♡

You wonder when the shame stopped making you hide behind a curtain of messy bed hair. When the smell of a man's cologne on you and a fruity fragrance on him started to feel normal; routine.

The elevator closes with a 'ping', and your eyes track the numbers as they descend, the warmth of another human, the soft puffs of his breath, warming your shivering, scantily dressed body.

"What happened to ‘she’s too old for me?’ " You grunt, slipping off your six inches of agony inducing footwear and pushing them to a corner.

"What happened to you not being jealous?" You can feel his smirk, oozing of self-assured nonchalance and smugness that would seem ugly on anyone but fits like a well-tailored suit on him. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he leans back, hands resting on the metal railing while his tall, lean body slouches lazily, almost invitingly, and you have to force your eyes away from tracing the curves of his pecs. It's a tempting sight, but you aren't about to give him any more ammo to goad you with. As it is, he already knows too much, is far too keen.

"Of your sugar mama? I don't think so."

Taehyung hums but doesn't refute the statement and the silence between you two stretches on. A burning ball of jealousy in your stomach continues to eat away at your peace, and with a clenched jaw, you allow your head to rest against the cool metal of the elevator and pretend that the proximity doesn't affect you.

It's always the same between you two, a constant game of tug and war, where one pulls too firmly, and then the other comes tumbling close until one of you comes back to your senses and then it's back to square one. Back to bickering and recounting the previous night’s escapades of half-truths and lies told from kiss-swollen lips and hooded gazes as you try your best to rile the other one up.

It's stupid. You are in your twenties and this isn't like you. The lying, the pretence that you are still seeing your ex-boyfriend and biting and sucking your own lip until it swells; until you look properly ravished; none of this is you.

You should have known the day he first stumbled into the elevator with a half-buttoned shirt and bite marks painted over the pale skin of his neck, a satisfied smirk curled on his dark pink lips, that he wasn't good for you. But no, like the absolute fool that you are, you fell for him. Fell knowing full well he wasn't yours to have, that back then you weren't his to have.

The elevator comes to a stop with a shudder. Your eyes, closed sometime during the descent, snap open and your feet pause when the sight of the closed doors grace you.

"You stopped the elevator." It's not a question, not when his hand is still hovering over the stop button, head tilted as his eyes stay trained on you.

"I did." He admits to a question you never asked.

Biting back a hiss at his insistence on being difficult, you twist on your heels, lips pulled into a smile whose edges sting like shards of a broken glass and parry, "And why did you do that, pray tell?"

He doesn't answer, just looks at you with that half-lidded gaze and his silence only infuriates you more, makes the back of your neck feel heated as an angry flush rises from your chest all the way up to your cheeks and with a few angry stomps you’re in Taehyung's space, barely a few inches left between you two.

"God!" You start, and the anger, the jealousy, the ugly ball of insecurity and lust and something you haven't quite found a name for yet all coagulate and rise up your throat, burning your heart in their wake until you are hurting and seething. “I don’t get you, nor do I want to anymore!" The words tumble out, one after another and half thought out but your chest still burns and the ugly ball still feels scorching hot in your throat and you can't bring yourself to stop, to shut up and think. "Stop doing this. Stop flirting with me and stop looking at me with those hooded eyes of yours and for the love of god, do you really need to lick your lip that often? Why don't you carry a lip balm if your lips are that dry, huh?"

The cross of your eyes is almost painful, but you have started and fuelled by anger and unreciprocated feelings there’s no stopping your steam. "And now this! Stopping the elevator! What the hell is this supposed to mean?" His lips part as if to answer but without waiting for his response, you plow on, "What! Do you actually have an answer? Really? Let's face it; you think I’m some sort of challenge that needs to be conquered. Another notch on your bedpost. You and your stupid smirks and half-lidded eyes and that damn mole on your nose and god, can you just not—"

The soft pad of his finger on your lips pauses your rant, leaves them parted and your heart hammering while unsaid words clutter the hollow spaces in your throat, tighten around your vocal cords like a noose until they become their own nemesis.

"I broke up with her last night," Taehyung says, and from where you are standing so close to him, his breath on your neck, cheeks, lips is too enchanting, too much like something you had hoped and begged and prayed for far too long now. Breathing out harshly you blink yourself back to reality because you must be hearing him wrong.

"Huh?"

His hand slowly comes up to hold your chin, thumb running over your lower lip with a feather-like touch, "I broke up with her last night, went home and came back early because I didn't want to miss you." He says, and your chest feels tight, palms numb and it's only when his hand gently settles over the nape of your neck and you inhale painfully that you realise that you had stopped breathing.

"Why?" You rasp out.

Don't hope. This means nothing. Do not hope.

Something twists in your belly, a thread tightens around your heart, and you know, despite it all, that you are hoping.

"Why do you think?" He asks instead, and you stifle the sudden desire to bash his head into a wall.

"Don't play games with me."

A sigh, his breath dancing on your lips and you barely suppress the tingles that burn down your spine, "I'm not. I don't want to, not anymore." The hand resting around your neck curls, fingers caressing the soft skin behind your ear.

"What do you want then?" Your words are quiet, hope and longing laced into every syllable that you desperately hope to hide but fail.

Your heart hammers into your ribs with so much force you are half afraid it will leave them cracked; splintered just like your love for the man who is touching you, holding your entire heart in the palm of his hands while you wait for it to be crushed. Because it will, it's inevitable. Kim Taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. All narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is too good. Too good for the woman he was with and certainly too good for you. You would be happy if you looked half as good on your wedding day as he regularly does because he is that gorgeous. And unreal, and pretty and it hurts.

It hurts because you can never have him and any second now he will push you away and ridicule you for getting flustered so easily and he will never understand, and god it cuts. It tears at you because despite knowing better, you long for him, his touch, his warmth.

Maybe even his love. But that is one hope you refuse to acknowledge out loud.

Your breaths mingle from where you two are standing so close, and part of you aches to reach out, to pull him closer and wrap yourself around him until you can sync the beat of your heart to his, to nestle your face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in, drown in the scent of that spicy cologne that you associate with him and nobody else. Because it's tempting, oh so inviting and he is so so close.

You could touch his chest, caress the skin peeking from in between the dip of his low neck shirt and it would be easy, he would let you, you know that too but what about after? How do you come back from holding someone your soul is in love with and then pretend that being with them for one night was enough? How does your hope keep living on in the name of that fragment of love? His arms your shelter for one night and then you are back to being strangers, sharing elevators and bumping into each other at the grocery store, pretending all the while that you do not yearn to visit that one night you spent together whenever your head hits the pillow?

"I..." Taehyung struggles, chews the words before his lips form them because this is his last chance and if he loses you now, it's over; he knows that too. The pair of you are done playing cat and mouse.

"I know my words don't hold a whole lot of value. I could promise you things, but you won't believe me and that's fair. I get it." He admits, another hand coming up until your face is cradled in his open palms, fingers slipping behind the edges of your ears and you will yourself to not drop your gaze, to look into his eyes and search for...love? Honesty? You wish you could say you know what it is that you are hunting for, but held so close all you can think about is the chestnut brown of his eyes, the black that rims them, the high arched brows and the thin, smooth lips and that mole; that mole that you can only see when you are pressed close, a hair's breadth of space between you two.

"But...?" You ask, pray, and yet again, against your better judgement hope.

"But I love you." He confesses, voice forever rich and deep and you feel the hum of his baritone from where your chest is still pulled tight to his. "My love for you is unlike any I have ever known, and it scared me; it still scares me because I don't know. I don't know what I will do if I ever lose you. I care too much, I—" His grip on you tightens and instinctively your hands snake around his waist, clenching the soft cotton of his shirt, nails biting into your skin as his words thread your hopelessly lovesick heart back together; piece by piece.

"I love you too much." Taehyung whispers and the ice around your heart thaws, his raw confession lighting a fire in your nerves until you are left buzzing from the high of his admission. "Trust me. Just this once. Please." He is vulnerable in his plea, and for the first time you wonder if you had characterised him wrong. Boxed and stored him like a gift on a shelf without bothering to look underneath the paper wrapping.

Taehyung doesn't have to beg, he doesn't have to try and persuade anyone, and for all the gibes you threw his way, all the daggered words about him dating only for money, you didn't truly believe any of them. Sure, the woman he had been with for the last few months was older (a voice in your head whispers wiser), but that wasn't because she was, as you would often insist, his 'sugar mama', but instead because their interests aligned. Kim Taehyung is a man of taste, whether it be his fondness for a violin's trill, fascination with modern art, or his love for jazz music. He is an enigma and with no small amount of embarrassment you think back to all the times you have bought a book after he made a passing comment on it, searched the pages and the characters to find some semblance of him.

Maybe you are pathetic, perhaps you are far too infatuated with this man for it to be healthy. Just maybe...

"No," Taehyung commands, his voice so determined you’re snapped back to the present, head thrown out of the haze your wandering thoughts had created.

Seeing your obscure expression and strayed eyes (look away because you can't acknowledge how much he matters), he pushes, one hand sliding down to grip your chin and urge you to look him in the eye. "Don't."

Maybe he sees something in your eyes, spots your hidden insecurities, reads you like an open book and dog-ears the pages that hold your weakness.

"Don't what?" You deflect, gaze drifting away again as you pretend to not know what he means but secretly long for him to keep pushing, to keep trying—your denial’s a facade to hide all your pleas.

"Don't do this to me. To us."

"You'll hurt me." You protest, a half-hearted attempt at trying to protect your already doomed heart even as your fingers clench tighter, pull him closer.

"No, I won't." He speaks with certainty that you don't wholly believe but fuelled by far too much love and longing, you don't protest any further and instead toe closer, rise higher, and breathe in the shaky exhale he lets out when your lips skim the sharp curve of his jaw.

"I've wanted this for so long." Unadulterated desire courses through your veins at his admission. Even if Taehyung is lying, even if he leaves you stranded after today, you'll live. You'll live on the high of this moment, the memory of his skin under your touch, the crisp of the cotton draped over his lean torso.

It's easier to let go and surrender yourself, easier to lay yourself bare because you have already come too far and there is no protecting yourself anymore—your heart is now his to do with.

Your hands twine around his waist, slide over the vast expanse of his back like he is yours; as though if you try hard enough, you'll leave an imprint, a sign that he belongs to you. Mark him for the rest of eternity and brand him with your name on his heart.

Kissing him is easy, the slight ache of staying on your tippy-toes going by unregistered as you get lost in the sensation of his lips, his sighs on your chin, the tickle of his lashes against the high curve of your cheek.

The cradle of his palms around your face is gentle, almost careful, as though you are a porcelain doll and he is afraid one harsh move will leave you splintered. Chest tight, you push down the last remaining traces of hesitation clinging inside your throat and twist to catch his lips instead, licking a long strip from the soft cleft of his chin over to his parted lips, dip into the hollow of his mouth and slide over the soft flesh on the inside before you catch his upper lip in between yours and suck.

His responding groan has you clenching your thighs and you break the kiss, breathing in to replenish the oxygen that doesn't seem as important when his lips are on yours. When your gaze catches his, for once you don't look away, don't force yourself to stop from swimming in the beautiful, clear pool of his eyes.

"I love you too." Your admission is quiet, more a careful whisper than anything else, as though any louder and you'll break this spell and things will go back to the way they were. He will come to his senses and realise he doesn't love you after all and then you'll go back to being a pining, lovesick fool, only this time with a broken heart and no hope to cling to.

His eyes grow soft—gentle in the curve of two crescent moons, and you smile your first real smile, the edges twitching and pulling into a gentle grin before you can bite it down and the answering smile that Taehyung rewards you with has your heart squeezing almost painfully inside your chest.

"Yeah?" He asks as though he already knows the answer but just wants to hear you say it again, profess your love for him again and you do. You say it again and again, press your lips over every inch of his face and emboss the words onto the smooth, unblemished skin.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you answer from around the suspended ball of disbelief and love in your throat. "Yeah."

When the clothes start coming off it’s a gentle, slow affair, the spaces in between filled with tender touches curious to explore the skin that they had desired for so long and open-mouthed kisses pressing promises of forever and happily ever after onto the naked expanse, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Legs twined around his waist like ivy, you arch off the floor. A tug of your hand and his shirt slips low, and then your mouth is pressing warm, wet, kisses, tongue slipping out and desperately tasting his skin, his sweat— him. You lean back and then he's on you, low, low, low until his lips are close enough to skim the edges of your panties and you buckle, arch and push without meaning to as you ache for relief only he can provide.

"You are beautiful. So so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

His words are rough, less speech and more growl as he pushes his head closer to your soaking heat and inhales. "Fuck."

Breathes turning to hitches, words into gasps, you can scarcely keep your eyes open when he runs a long, slim finger through your folds and circles your wet opening before your walls are pulsing around him, sucking and pulling the finger in as deep as it will go. One and two then three, your cunt can't have enough of his fingers, his heat and him and oh—

His lips are velvet against your clit, your body a molten mass of gold moulding itself around his fingers, your sanity and restraint slipping and dripping down onto the carpeted floor from in between the spaces. With the last left strength, you prop yourself onto your elbows and the sight of Taehyung's mouth on your sex is almost enough to send you slipping back down again. His tongue laves across your folds with the desperation of a man parched, caressing every fold, greedily licking away your dripping arousal and moaning out obscenities too vulgar for how early the day is.

When you come, it's with a cry that sounds too animalistic to be yours. One that comes from your chest and leaves your back arched like the ends of a boomerang. "Good?" He asks with glistening lips, and you wanna scream, hysterical in your pitch— good? Is there anything better that exists in this world than his lips on you making you come? Again and again, until you can no longer stand the sensitivity?

But instead of screaming, or shaking him by his shoulders until it gets through his head, you reply with a spent nod and let your elbows slip. This is what being eaten out by Kim Taehyung feels like. The pleasure coursing through your veins is something far more potent than any you have ever felt before. The blood in your veins thrumming, almost sizzling under the thin layer of your skin.

He presses his forehead to yours, rests to catch his breath and with every shuddery inhale you breathe your arousal in, a swipe of your tongue across his glistening lips, and then you can taste it too. It tastes of nothing and yet everything. Coming from his lips, it tastes of what your dreams are built from, like liquified recklessness and yearning and above all —Taehyung.

It tastes of him and his smirks and all the kisses you couldn't have and all the kisses you now hope for.

His fingers are gentle when they tuck your hair, eyes bright behind the curtain of messy, ink-black strands, "There's a law somewhere that says when you love someone with all your heart, you are unavoidably loved by them as well. Amor ch'a null'amato amar perdona."

Your eyes search his, frantically rove all over his face, search the lines under his eyes, pause at the small mole on his nose, and then stop at the sight of the one on his lower lip, the one that your eyes would always drift to every time he'd smirk or grin in the past. Now he's smiling, lips stretched into a soft boxy curve, the mole evident against the edge and you raise a trembling hand, run your thumb across it. Cup his face with both your hands until your vision blurs and then your lips are on his. Locking and licking and your mouth is a leaking faucet of I love you's, hands working to the back of his head and getting lost in those perfectly long, wavy strands.

You hope this is the real thing when you wildly take off your dress, rip off his shirt unmindful of the last few buttons that clatter to the floor and undress until the both of you are as bare as you were the day you were born.

The steel railing is startlingly cold against your rear but before you can wince Taehyung's large hands are on your waist, pulling you closer until all that's on your mind is the feel of him, hard and hot against your dripping heat. His mouth is on your breast, lips sucking marks into the flesh and tying you to him, leaving traces of his presence behind until you can no longer differentiate the ache in your heart from the burn in your belly.

Somehow through the haze of want and compulsive need, you collect yourself enough to tell him you're on the pill when he remembers the lack of protection in his wallet, and then he's inside you. The thrust inside is fluid, and you are moaning, keening at your wetness, at how long he is, at how unbearably, entirely full you are.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, like the last words of a man dying an untimely death, desperate and hurried and like if he takes a second too long he might never get the chance again. The scratch of your nails against his back must hurt, the grip of your heels around his sides must be painful, and still you can't bring yourself to let up; to let go.

The air inside becomes humid, reeks of sex and sweat and everything that shouldn't seem so right, and yet does.

You come first, hit your peak and crash through it like a ship in a torrential sea, hot and volatile and like something vital that you'll retain even in the afterlife. Taehyung–sweet, sweet Taehyung – helps you ride it out, makes your body sing with the honed practice of a pianist who has spent more decades playing than he can recall. His tongue is on your neck, stroking that one sensitive spot in the hollow of your clavicle while his hand brushes your clit, builds the pleasure and lets it drift, unhurried and soft until you are crying from the overwhelming rightness of it.

With a shudder, you finally push his hand away from your quivering heat and bring it to your lips, kiss the bony knuckles and let it rest on your thigh from where he wraps it tight around your waist and drives to chase his own high.

Sated you watch Taehyung, catalogue all the features that you had never seen before but up close can. Just in case—just. File them all in a part of your heart where only he resides, a piece you will always come back to, regardless of if the man in your arms chooses to stay or not. You will be selfish with these memories, hoard and treasure them in secrecy until the day you can look back upon them with nothing more than nostalgic fondness.

The appearance of a deep furrow on his forehead, between those long arched brows and the breaking rhythm of his thrusts, alerts you to how close he is and you clench. Clench with all the love and devotion you nurture in your heart and hope that somehow it will be enough. If not forever, then at least until you can have your fill, until you can love him for a life's worth and live off on those memories. Live on them like a late mother's half-finished perfume bottle that you take out and sniff on your sorriest days, a push strong enough to keep you going.

One more day, then one more and then just one more until you can finally meet him in the afterlife, old and having done all that you had been sent to do. Except for love. You doubt you can ever love like this again.

Kissing him after feels like the best kind of heartbreak because you know, somewhere deep in your gut where you house your intuition and insecurities, you know this won't last.

Yet you wouldn't take back anything. Your lips form words on Taehyung's shoulder 'i love you so much. i always will', and you tighten your arms around his waist. Anchor him to the present and pray that the defence will be strong enough to keep him with you for a little while more.

Just a little.

a/n: the end is up to your interpretation, you are free to imagine whatever end you’d have liked to see. If you enjoyed reading this please let me know through comments, reblogs, tags or asks. the feedback makes me insanely happy and i love hearing from you guys ♡

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

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Okay, I can't find where this request went anymore, but I'm sure it existed (or I wouldn't have written this). I'm going to try to look again in the mail. Anyway, our boys (Vil, Azul, Leona) a little sad and the reader comforting them with hugs.

54- Twisted Wonderland, Vil, Azul, Leona x Reader

His life isn't that easy. Back straight, head up, be elegant, be polite, never show the weight that falls on your shoulders. This is Vil's life, nothing more, nothing less.

As beautiful as a marble statue, a precious object that can only be admired, not touched. Sometimes he himself forgets that he is human.

It's hard to never break down, it's hard to keep up appearances, and you make it more difficult. You, the most precious thing he has.

He should feel free with you, right? Isn't that the cliché of every love story? But he can't really know, he's always the bad guy in stories.

So even with you it is the appearance that counts him, because you love him for that, right? It's not like there's much more to him than just his appearance - and apparently not even that is enough to give him any real value.

He is tired, that's why he has such negative thoughts. A restful sleep and the next day it will be a fragrant flower again, but it is still early to go to sleep.

"Vil?" Your angelic voice rouses him. You are there, stuck a few steps behind him, you look at him doubtfully and his heart trembles. Oh, did you notice too much wrinkle in his expression?

"Vil." You call his name again, and he is already preparing to tell you how tiring his day has been to clear the doubts that are likely creeping into you.

Vil is not someone used to being touched, he is a precious work of art after all, yet he is convinced that even a caress from you could at that moment bring him relief. But he has to keep up appearances.

"My dear?" His questioning smile tries not to be too guilty under your worried eyes that scrutinize him.

After a few seconds of silence, you are moving. You are slow, yet fast. Your arms slide gently under his, and your body tightens to his chest. Your warmth invades him as your face seeks refuge under his chin, lovingly rubbing your nose against his neck.

"It's cold ..." You murmur, and this is the justification you use, but he knows that you have only read inside him, and you have simply taken some of his weight for you.

"You smell good." You continue, while his arms hold you slowly, in a silent request for affection.

“Oh yeah… it's a new perfume you know? I thought…"

"Yes, that perfume is good too, but you also smell of something else."

He just walks away, so that his purple eyes can look for the answer in yours for that doubt you have posed to him. There is no need for him to ask, he knows that you will give him the answer.

"The scent of Vil." Your cheerful and affectionate smile erases all poison from his heart, and he smiles at you as he does not smile at anyone else as he silently welcomes you back against him.

Who knows, maybe with you appearances are completely useless.

A faint sigh comes from the dorm leader's lips to confide only in the air the pressure he is feeling inside him.

He is an excellent trader, a businessman, an excellent speaker and a perfect gentleman. Is not enough. He is never enough, and he probably never will be.

Sometimes the slander and contempt of many also burn him. Not everyone looks favorably on him, Azul knows, it's the price he himself chose to pay - at least he got something in return, right?

He isn't sure. Days like this, flat and heavy, occasionally bring back the most latent insecurities of him. Not that he shows it, only his eyes barely reflect the weight in his heart if you look at them carefully.

You are a relief, usually. Like every day he waits for you to come and greet him, but more than every day he would like to drop everything else, take you in his arms and hold you there. Yet despite his appearances he is still so shy. Sometimes even your gaze makes him blush, you know it, and you also know how much he cares about his figure and his representation in front of others, so you never take a step too far towards him, and he never has the courage to ask.

"Azul?"

Your voice finally reaches his ears, your bright eyes peeking through the crack of the half-open door before you allow yourself to enter.

"Oh, here you are ... give me a second, I'm almost done." His voice is as firm and calm as ever. He doesn't look at you, it's not strange, but the way he bows his head to avoid you sends you strange meanings.

He doesn't have the courage to look at you, the need he has for you makes him feel ashamed. A child who needs pampering, that's what he is at that moment. A nullity in front of you.

He feels you close, you are next to his chair, standing, looking at him. You don't move away, and he understands that you want his attention, he won't be able to ignore you for long.

"Do you need something?" He finally asks you, and his eyes force them to lift to your face, and he is surprised when he sees you smiling.

You just stare at him for a few moments, without giving him an answer, and then suddenly your arms are around his shoulders, his cheek gently resting on your shoulder.

"I missed you, Azul!" Your light but cheerful voice caresses his ear, while you hug him protectively, full of affection.

"We only met last night ..." he murmurs, in a tone that wanders between wonder and relief.

“I know, but I don't care. I missed you." You confirm again, as you make your way into his lap and let him hold you.

Your weight on him is reassuring, your touch and your presence welcoming.

"I can't hide anything from you, right?" He whispers in your ear, as if he is afraid of being heard by others, even if only the two of you exist in the room.

"No, I would say no." You mutter satisfied, snuggling up to him.

Usually he is so good at silencing that part of him, but when that black feeling arises it feels like a living being inside him struggling to get out and leave him weak, empty, mocked. He always swallows it, never allows it to peek out. Sometimes it curls up in the stomach, other times in the lungs, or gets stuck in his ribcage making his heart heavy, almost blocking his breath.

Leona is good at silencing those wounds to his pride, but sometimes it happens that a gesture, a laugh, a word at the wrong time weaken his defenses, taking him away from the already heavy looks of others.

In the greenhouse he is alone with himself. No, he's not there to sleep, he just needs to calm down. For some reason today it is difficult, more than usual. The weight in his chest causes him to hunch over, head bowed, ears down. His hands are left in his lap as he sits hidden among the plants, he almost seems to be meditating. Calm down, calm down, calm your anger. It is what he repeats to himself like a mantra as he listens to his own breath. Nobody can beat you, nobody can hurt you.

No, no one is going to hurt him - no one thinks he's worth hurting, do they? All that he is, all that he knows he is worth, is always trampled on, torn to pieces, thrown away by others, as if it were of no use.

"Caught!"

Your weight is never too violent against his sturdy back, but his surprise causes him to lean forward slightly.

You laugh as your hands gently tighten around his neck, and he growls.

"Idiot! Are you crazy ?! " His words are acidic, but by now you've got used to it. You are the only one who can ever afford to do such a thing with him, you are the only one he can forgive.

He doesn't realize it right away, but that little leap to his heart you gave him has suddenly lightened his mind. He only knows when your arms go away from him.

Wait, stay still.

That thought unexpectedly reaches his mind, but he is quickly kicked out. He won't beg for mercy, not even from you, especially with you.

Still, even if he doesn't speak, your weight doesn't stray too far. Your arms now slowly encircle his stomach as you drop relaxed on his back, like a lion cub on his father's back.

With your head resting behind his ribcage, Leona knows you're listening to his heartbeat. He knows this because he is listening to you too, he listens to your breath which naturally coordinates with the muscle moving slow and powerful in his chest. And then he understands that you understand his need that he pretends not to have.

"You are so strong, Leona."

And that's enough.

A light sigh caresses his lips: "Of course I'm strong, otherwise you-"

"I'd be fine!" You defend yourself, knowing full well where he wants to hit.

You don't see him, but a proud smile is painted on his face as he continues on his way: "Otherwise you would have already been eaten by now."

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #vil x reader #azul x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst azul #leona x reader #request

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itsany62 · 3 years

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SteveTony - Alternate Universe

Here are some Alternate Universe fics that I love. Don't forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!

Food for the Heart, by LagLemon, 14 k >, Cooking, No Powers.

After being introduced to a gourmet food on a budget blog by Pepper (a gift for her elderly, cheapskate mother) Tony starts cooking again. The recipes are good, but the blog owner is even better. Still, Tony isn't so sure Captain America, the guy who runs the blog, can compete with Hot Bagboy, the gorgeous blond who works at the grocery store.

"Free to Good Home" by Captain_Panda, 7 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

"Oliver and Company" AU.

There's a great big world outside the box.

But it's a dog-eat-dog world, and Tony's just one cat. Then a stray dog comes along, looking for a friend.

A Day In Principal Stark's Office, by nannersmelo, 10 k > words, Steve Single Parent, Director Tony.

Tony Stark has his hands full with not only Stark Industries, but also his beloved mother's life project: The Maria Stark Academy, and as he enters his office in order to deal with a ferocious mother whose son was apparently assaulted by one of his brightest students, he was sure this day would culminate in nothing but a heinous headache. Little did he know - he was in for one hell of a surprise.

I Am the Night by gottalovev, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Tony Stark, Wizard Steve Rogers.

That's it. Tony is doomed. He rolls on his back, crosses his wings over his belly and closes his eyes. He'll await death here, misunderstood by the world to the bitter end.

C is for Calculus and Compromise, by heydoeydoey, 11 k>, Gifted AU, Post-Divorce, Angts with a Happy Ending.

Steve's just trying to give his prodigy daughter a normal childhood. Enter a meddling school administrator, Tony Stark, and too many lawyers.

tell you my love for you by jelliebean, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Based on Love Simon.

A guy at Shield High comes out on tumblr, anonymously. Tony thought he was the only gay guy on campus--not out, because of Howard--and sends him an email.

“Hey, Flying. Same here. I’ve got a secret too, and it’s like I’m hiding who I am, every day. From everyone. All the closest people to me. But I just can’t tell them. I’m gay, too. It feels like I’m putting on this mask, this shell of who I think they want me to be. Even though I don’t think my friends would judge me. I don’t know why. I just. I’ve got a secret. –Shell”

The guy seems great--amazing, even, and then Hammer has to step in and ruin it all.

Mergers & Acquisitions by Robin_tCJ, 33 k > words, Angst, sex as currency.

Steve Rogers is the CEO of the Rogers Corporation, which he built from the ground up. When he learns that Hydra International is making a bid for a hostile takeover of Stark Industries, he decides he has to do what he can to stop Hydra from overtaking the market and becoming an unstoppable, unethical conglomerate. Tony Stark asks for something Steve isn’t sure he should give, but he does it anyway – and it completely changes everything. But when Hydra keeps coming, Steve and Tony realize there’s more to this than they’d realized.

Meeting the Monsters by itsallAvengers, 23 k > words, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters.

Tony's at public school with kids his age for the first time in seventeen years, and he is determined that this year is gonna be his year. He's going to make friends. He's going to be popular. People will like him.

Unsurprisngly, none of that actually happens.

He does sort-of-maybe fall in love with a vampire in his class that everyone is terrified of, though. So... there's that.

(I Want You To See) The Darkest Side Of Me by ann2who, 45 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Post-World War II.

In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.

Gift With Purchase Remix by sabrecmc, 43 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, hooker Steve, Sugar Daddy.

Gift With Purchase Remix wherein Steve actually is a hooker. But for a Really Sympathetic Reason.

The Little Glass Screwdriver by ann2who, 19 k > words, Cinderella AU.

When Prince Steven is forced to find himself a bride, true love gets in the way. As the night of the grand ball unfolds, the prince meets a mysterious knight who might just change his entire life in a way he could have never imagined.

**Cinderella AU**

Covered in Lines by royal_chandler, 3 k > words, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - College/University, Age Difference.

He can’t lose sight of pale, deft hands that gesture on transitive verbs, an ink-stained thumb edging underneath Tony’s ribcage with an affection that can only be called dangerous.

half-wild and glimmering by deathsweetqueen , 15 k > words, Alternate Universe - Western, Prostitution.

“Give me a drink, Tasha,” Tony sighs as he lands in front of the bar. “I’ve had one hell of a day.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Have you really?” she asks, loftily, sliding a tumbler of whiskey along the well-polished wood.

Tony lets his head hang, the sweat beading on the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to put myself through today,” he sighs, wearily.

“I would not know. You will not let me work the rooms,” Natasha retorts, her voice a little strained, busying her hands in a dirty glass.

“I don’t let you work the rooms ‘cause you’re liable to kill anyone who touches ya the wrong way and we can’t lose that much of our business,” Tony reminds her, wryly amused, sipping at his whiskey. He shakes his head at the burn. “We peddle flesh, darling, not death.”

peers, fears and holiday cheers by jacobby, 24 k > words, Parent Tony Stark.

“He’s only two years older than you,” Tony finally says when the silence becomes too much to bear.

“Dad, Teddy is turning twenty-seven next year.”

“I am not dating your husband—”

“I’m not implying you are. I just want you to be...aware that he’s practically the same age as my husband.”

AKA

Tony Stark's new boyfriend is only two years older than his adult sons. Telling them is one thing, introducing them is another. What Tony doesn't expect is that the past always has a way of catching up to him, of biting him in the ass when he least expects it. Well, at least they're all together for the Holidays. What more can he ask for?

A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc, 292 k > words, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Historical Romance.

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

you can call me babe for the weekend by complicationstoo, 10 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, actor Tony Stark.

Tony left his small town for Los Angeles after high school, leaving behind everything to pursue his dream. Ten years later, he comes back for the first time and finds that some things are impossible to let go of.

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be by iam93percentstardust, 72 k > words, Alternate Universe - Theatre.

Famed director Phil Coulson brings Shakespeare’s beloved play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to Broadway. This production though comes with a twist: a brief but passionate love affair between the faerie king, Oberon, and his attendant, Puck. In the roles of the two star-crossed lovers, Coulson casts America’s darling Steve Rogers, fresh off his third Academy Award, and Broadway royalty, Tony Stark. Steve quickly finds himself falling for the quick-witted and sarcastic actor but Tony is dating the stage manager. Unwilling to come between the seemingly happy couple, Steve steps back but all isn’t right behind the scenes and Tony may need him when everything falls apart.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza, 26 k > words, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Soulmates, Mutual Pining.

Sometimes, a voice whispers: you will never atone for your mistakes.

Tony believes that, believes it so strongly some days he drowns in it, but he still tries. Tries through Starfleet, tries through inventions, tries through missions. Then, one day, he meets his new Captain, and things change.

and teach this heart (how to beat with light), by starklystar, 40 k >, AU Hospital, Single parent Steve.

Eight years ago, at a funeral with a baby's cries ringing in his ears, Tony Stark decided to turn his life around. He's a genius, billionaire, philanthropist. What's so hard to adding 'doctor' to that list? And after that, it can't be that hard to add 'husband' and 'father' too, right? But the past has a way of haunting even the very best of us, and in any universe, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers have never had an easy love.

Featuring: drama, chaos, Peter's scheming, meddling friends, and doctors learning again that the heart can never be as simple as four chambers and four valves.

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by sabrecmc, 120 k > words, Alternate Universe - Sweet Home Alabama Fusion.

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.

The Night Shift by weethreequarter , 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Hospital.

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Cake It Till You Make It by ChocolateCapCookie, 10 k > words, Kid Fic, Alternate Universe - Bakery.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark have a lot in common. They're single parents, they own rival bakeries at the center of town... and they both hate each other's guts.

When a mix-up at Peter and Morgan's school has both fathers scrambling to prove they're the better baker, they do the mature, adult thing and compete in a bake-off. Between the mixing and the creaming, the baking and the icing, Steve and Tony find that hate is actually not that far from love.

Looking for Heaven by foxxcub, 31 k > words, Alternate Universe - Regency, Marriage of Convenience.

When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.

just a guy, standing in front of another guy by theappleppielifestyle, 12 k > words.

“It’s not real,” Tony says, still smiling, jaw twitching with effort. “The fame. It’s - I’m just a guy."

(Or, Notting Hill AU, with a twist.)

Mother of Exiles (A Titanic AU) by BladeoftheNebula, 21 k > words, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Steve said, taking a deep breath to try and calm his breathing. “I met someone. A guy from first class.”

Dublin 1912: Steve Rogers is barely making ends meet, living in the tenement slums of Dublin. But a stroke of good luck gives him and his best friend the chance to change their fortune. Two tickets to America on board the RMS Titanic.

The Devil You Know by shetlandowl, 17 k > words, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Author/Novelist.

Best selling author Tony Stark revives the bodice ripper genre for a modern audience. From frisky gay cowboys to ravenous lesbian pirate queens, he consistently delivers riveting thrillers full of romance, drama, and the filthy, unapologetically kinky sex that has become his trademark specialty.

Tony has everything a man could dream of - horny, adoring fans, and boatloads of money. Or that's what he thought, until Detective Steve Rogers walks into his life and turns it all upside down.

Bears and Mountains and Lumberjacks Oh My! by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday), 24 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Lumberjack Steve Rogers.

It was supposed to be easy--go meet the reclusive artist and buy some art. And then came the broken down car. And the snowstorm. And the lumberjack with a face like a greek god. So yea, Tony is stuck in a cabin in the woods with a hot lumberjack till the storm clears. Could be worse.

Series: A Furious Vexation by Annie D (scaramouche), 18 k > words, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse.

A Steve/Tony post-apocalypse AU that exists pretty much just for the smut.

That Feline Beat by Tito11, 5 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

Presenting Steve and Tony in the Aristocats!AU

Tony and his three kittens have been kidnapped from their fancy Upper East Side apartment while their owners are away and deposited on the mean streets of Harlem. Unsure of where they are or how to get back home, they'll have to rely on street cat Steve to guide them. Will they get home safely? Will Tony's fear of abandonment cause him to drive away the best tomcat he's ever known? Only time will tell.

do you fondue? by calciseptine, 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting.

Tony has done crazy things in the name of food, but falling in love with Steve Rogers really takes the cake.

a glimpse of heaven's love by parkrstark, 13 k> words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Terminal Illnesses.

The child begins to empty his pockets. He starts to count coins on the counter. Tony huffs a little impatiently as he realizes most of them are pennies.

The cashier actually humors the kid and counts along with him. They reach 3 dollars and 54 cents before he shakes his head sadly. "Sorry, kid. There's not enough here."

The kid sounds close to crying. "I need these paints for my Papa. It's Christmas Eve and these...he doesn't have any. The doctors said he doesn't have long. I want him to have these. In case he meets Jesus tonight, I want him to paint one more time. Please."

Tony takes a step forward, arms still full of toys he's buying just because. He can cover this child's gift for his dying father. Money. Money is what he's good for.

"I'll buy them."

Or, the Christmas Shoes AU no one but me asked for.

If you survive first impressions, you're good to go by itsallAvengers, 3 k > words, Parent Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - No Powers.

The first time Peter Parker-Stark sees Steve Rogers, he may or may not be standing in direct path of the man's motorcycle.

His daddy is really not going to be happy about that one.

A Rat-ional Conclusion by BladeoftheNebula, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Parent Tony Stark.

He had a strong flurry of patients throughout the morning and by the time it rolled around to noon, he was just about worn out.

He walked out into the reception, stretching until he felt a satisfying pop. “Are we done?”

Bucky checked the screen. “Just about. One more before lunch - a rat, singular.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully straight forward then. “Great, let me know when they-”

He was interrupted by the bell over the door and looked up to see a little girl cradling a small animal carrier, being shepherded through the door by easily one of the hottest men he’d ever seen in real life.

Oh wow.

Tidal Pull by sabrecmc, 97 k > words, Octopus Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked.

After the American Civil War, Union soldier Steve Rogers takes a chance on an opportunity to sail with the Stark Trading Company down in the Caribbean. During a terrible storm, his ship is lost. To his surprise, he survives, and ends up stranded on an island that isn't quite as deserted as he first thinks.

Or, a reverse Little Mermaid tale where Steve has to fall for the fish-man.

Twelve Days by elysianprince, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Ghosts.

In which Tony finds himself in a town that looks like it crawled out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, trying to sell an inn he didn't know he owned, all while dealing with Steve Rogers, the resident ghost who has returned to haunt the inn each December during the twelve days of Christmas for the past seventy years. Tony has only one logical solution that benefits them both: break the curse that binds him - but falling for a man almost a century old wasn't among his plans.

She kissed me by S_Horne, 1 k > words, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting.

“Your mom kissed me.”

Steve blinked awake and lifted his head from his pillow to look over at the silhouette in the doorway. “What?”

“Your mom,” Tony reiterated. “She kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said simply, “she does that.”

#stevetony #stony #fic rec #tony stark #steve rogers #my recs

226 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years

Note

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way).

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property.

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers.

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms.

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight.

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back.

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house.

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him.

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him.

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump.

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more.

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. “You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room.

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable. Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence.

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change.

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you.

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging. “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises.

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length.

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance.

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches.

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace.

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly.

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate.

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day.

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

133 notes · View notes

duckugou · 3 years

Text

golden

Kenma x GN!reader

Im trying to stray away from my comfort zone of just writing readers that use she/her so bear with me

sorry if this lowkey sucks but it was inspired by harry styles song golden

cw: big cursing, huge fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, comfort, aged up!

come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in!

Requests are open!!

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Being a streamer comes with perks. Being comfy at home, not having to face people in real life every day, playing games, typical shit. Another perk is making good friends.

Meeting people on a voice chat is common for Kenma -guys and gals alike. What he wasnt expecting one night was the sweetest voice on the other end of his headphones.

"You're all fucks- I'm better at this game than all of you combined. Try me."

To think that was the sentence that made Kenma's ears perk up and burn.

"What the hell ever- we have the great Kodzuken on our side." One of the guys said, half joking half dead serious.

"Oh yeah, he isn't even speaking up to defend your pussy asses- probably knows I could beat him too." You could hear the smirk in that last part.

"U-uh, no. You can't beat me. Nobody can actually. Not at this game." Kenma rebutted , confident in his gaming skills but not so much his speaking skills to this stranger.

"Oh man, you certainly sound confident. Come on, Kodzuken- 1v1 me then. Show me who the best really is."

Kenma suddenly felt nervous. Should he really demolish this stranger? Isn't it polite to let the person you like win? He didn't like this person yet but god their voice was attractive.

"Fine. Send the request." He decided.

"Sent, fucker."

The game resulted in a tie because this stranger actually knew what they were doing. They both threw friendly insults at each other the whole time of course, making each of them laugh a little.

"Okay fine. The great Kodzuken himself almost beat me. Im almost honored to have a great streamer almost beat me."

"Well you almost beat me too- uh-" Kenma stuttered over the fact that he didn't know how to address this stranger.

"Oh! Call me Y/n." The person giggled.

"You can uh, call me Kenma."

"Oh you don't want me to repeat your title over and over like everyone else?" They laughed.

"No, friends don't call me that. They use my name name." His ears were burning.

"Friends, huh? Guess that means you owe me your number so we can schedule a rematch where I can properly beat your ass."

"Huh, guess so."

A few months had gone by and Y/n and Kenma were as close as they could be. They found out they live close by each other and began hanging out a lot.

Y/n would be in the back of his streams on occasion and wouldn't hesitate to speak up during them. Thats the thing about Y/n. They've always been so outspoken. Since the start. Everything they talk about comes so easy to Y/n. Nothing is held back. Kenma knows everything about them. He on the other hand is still a bit closed off. Quiet. The two are so opposite yet so alike. Kenma doesn't speak much about himself, opting to listen.

Especially when talking about past relationships.

One night, they were sat in Kenmas room in separate chairs, letting conversations flow.

"So, you've dated but why have the relationships ended?" Y/n asked.

"Ah, I dont know- its not important. Why did yours end?" Kenma flipped the question as he always does.

"One guy cheated," Y/n tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, missing their mouth and brushing it off. "One girl left because she was leaving for school, and one guy just didn't mesh with me. Your turn." Y/n pushed the question back.

"Uh- well. I don't click with people easily. I'm pretty closed off so when I date it usually ends in hurt feelings by accident or they get sick of me." Kenma finally admitted.

"Huh." Y/n flopped onto their stomach on the bed after setting down the popcorn. "Don't you like anyone though? Like- if you liked someone enough, do you think you would give opening up a shot?"

"I mean I guess. Nobody ever takes the time to...pry me open." That got a laugh out of Y/n. Good. "But yeah I do like someone."

Sitting up suddenly, Y/n became visibly excited.

"TELL ME WHO."

"No god no- it isnt important." Kenmas ears burned again.

"Come onnnnn. Its gotta be someone big time cool to earn your heart. I have to approve."

Y/n pulled Kenma from his chair to the bed, not letting go of his hand as he sat down.

"Theyre very cool- and very sweet. Understanding. Someone who stands up for me and makes me comfortable-" Kenma began gushing.

"Do I know them?" Y/n interrupted.

"Y-yeah. You sure do." Kenma scratched the back of his neck.

"Oooh ok, a guessing game. Describe them more- their looks!" Y/n held his hand tighter, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Well- ok." Kenma took a deep breath and decided he could be vague enough. "Theyre short. As short if not shorter than me. Competitive. Very cute smile-"

"TOO VAGUE give me the JUICY DETAILS" Y/n pushed.

"They uh- they have..pretty eyes." He was staring at this point, eyes wandering around Y/ns face to find more things to describe. "cute nose too I guess. Squishy cheeks. Glasse-"

"WHO THE HELL IS IT KENMA- its starting to sound like youre describing me." Y/n laughed.

"No- I'm totally not!" Kenma rushed.

"Tell this person you like them. You look so happy when you talk about them. Its kind of sickening."

"I can't just do that." Kenma stated flatly.

"Yeah you can."

"No-"

"DO ITTTT. Nothing to be scared of- it's CUTE. They would be dumb to not like you."

Kenma sighed, knowing he couldn't tell Y/n the truth about who he liked. What does he usually do when he's put in a corner like this? Oh thats right-

"Who do you like then Y/n?" He asked, proud of himself for deflecting again.

"Oh thats easy. You." Y/n said, letting go of his hand and laying back on the bed, leaving Kenma sitting up and stunned.

"What? No I mean a crush idiot. Who do you liiikkkeee?" Kenma pushed, hoping he didn't hear Y/n wrong.

"You, Kenma. I've had a crush since our first tie in a game. Thought that was obvious-"

Kenma flopped back on the bed as well. The both of them looking at each other.

"Oh. My person is uh... really... open and honest." Kenma said quietly.

"Is that why you wont tell them?" Y/n asked just as hushed.

"Yeah... what if right now they say yes but then their feelings change one day? That would hurt so bad. Worse than not telling them ever." He whispered.

There was silence. They knew what they both just admitted. Kenmas heart started racing. This might've fucked everything up. He might lose them. But they like him too so why is he so scared?

Y/n held his hand again.

"I know that youre scared because I'm so open...but hey... If you wanna give it a try..." Y/n whispered, scared about whether or not their honesty fucked them over.

"You might be right this time Y/n." Kenma whispered.

The space between them was closed due to both of them being drawn together like magnets in that moment. A sweet kiss.

"Let's try it then. I'll work on... being more open if you'd like." Kenma said.

"Kenma. I dont want you to change one bit. I like you the way you are."

Acceptance. It was the best thing Kenma has ever felt.

#kenma #kenma fic #kenma fluff #kenma gamer #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu fluff #harry styles golden lyric AHHHH

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