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undiscovered-horizon · 9 months

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"Finnish polka" - Ivar the Boneless x Reader

SUMMARY: After helping one of the northern Jarls, the Lothbrok brothers attend a celebratory feast. There, they're faced with a tradition of warriors catching flower crowns that belong to young women. How surprised Ivar is when you almost shove your crown into his hands.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.1k

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Ivar is tired.

Of course he's glad that Jarl Thorstein came out victorious. And that his brothers are fine. Still, he feels weary as the adrenaline leaves his body. His legs start to ache. Ivar downs the rest of his mead in hopes it makes him a little more deaf to his mood.

The upbeat, bright music fills his mind like an obsessive thought. His heart beats to the rhythm tapped by the feet of dancing women. They spin, jump and run around with flower crowns sitting atop their heads. How the wreaths remain immovable, he can't quite say.

Ivar is also angry.

As the local tradition entails, when the song ends, all the dancing young maidens will throw their flower crowns to the crowd. Whoever catches it, is believed to be the girl's lover chosen by the gods. However, whether the couple indulges and trusts gods' judgement is a different story. But if the wreath falls to the floor, the girl is said to remain unmarried for the next five years.

Ivar knows the chance of him somehow catching one of those is near zero. He's sitting quite far from the dancers. Even if he did catch it, he's disillusioned about the imminent dissatisfaction of the flower crown's ownert. Not only is he disabled in a way that almost entirely excludes him from fighting but he's also infamous for his ruthless nature and vengeful heart. Hardly a man who invokes desire. Still, some naive piece of him remains hopeful that maybe he's wrong. Maybe he can be terrible and loved all the same.

He shakes those weak delusions away from himself before they sour his mood further.

His piercing eyes have been following one of the dancers for the better part of the song when he catches himself. Her movements look effortless even when the musicians pick up the tempo. Clearly, she's done this dance one too many times to have any doubts about what she's doing. Joy beams from her in a way that makes her appear almost shining. The wreath on the top of her head is mostly green with white and red flowers. It makes Ivar think of the woods surrounding Kattegat; it makes him think of home.

Ivar leans toward Oddleif, one of the Jarl's men, who's sitting next to him.

"Who is she?"

Oddleif looks at Ivar out of the corner of his eye. He scoffs, takes a large sip of his drink and only then decides to answer:

"If you're thinking of catching her flower crown, don't." His blond braids dance slightly as he shakes his head. There's a hint of laughter hiding in the back of Oddleif's throat. "Half of the surviving army wants it."

"I have no care for flowers," Ivar lies through his teeth. "They have no use. They wilt and die and soon no one remembers them. I am simply curious about her."

"Her father is the blacksmith. You might have seen him in the battle, swinging that damned sledgehammer." Ivar silently nods. He remembers that man - tall as a pine tree and wider than a stable. The blacksmith invokes respect even when he's not decimating enemies like a troll equipped with a tree trunk. "He said once that he'll let any man marry his daughter but only if he can lift an anvil. Tried it once myself. Not that I had any success as you can imagine." Oddleif laughs bitterly and continues drinking. His eyes are glued to the dancers but Ivar knows that right now, the two of them are admiring the very same girl with a flower crown like a forest.

The melody continues to quicken. Despite being out of breath, you don't want it to end. Your feet ache but they do not falter nor do they stumble. It seems that their muscles know the dance better than your mind. There are a dozen girls dancing with you but you do not see them. Not really. They appear worlds away from you and the song of bagpipes and strings.

And then appears he.

A slouched, dark figure flies before your eyes as you're doing another pirouette. The man simply sits there, in the corner, but his presence is overwhelming. Or so you think. He does nothing and yet he tears his way into your microcosm of quick footwork, turns and lively polka.

You recognize him. Of course you do. Many whispers, equally frightened and amazed, have spoken of him. You have believed in all of them until the moment you met his gaze for that split second. Right then, somewhere between blinks and breaths, you renounce every gossip you've ever heard about him. A voice in the back of your head, a trickster or an oracle, nags at you to learn the truth yourself.

When the lively, fast melody comes to a stop, you find yourself shaken awake from the thoughts about Ivar the Boneless. The end of the song seems somewhat abrupt to you as you've been letting your fantasy run wild without paying much attention to what's going on around you. Dancing the last part purely by the memory of your muscles. The moment musicians stop playing, a small crowd begins to form in front of you. Men of different class, age and ancestry reach out their hands. Each one of them is more determined than the other to catch your wreath. They start to yell something but considering that the inside of the long hall is awfully loud anyway, you can't make out any words. Reading their lips, you can only tell when they're exclaiming different variations of your name.

They're only pushing towards you, shoving each other away. You keep taking steps backwards but the distance you create with each step is quickly shortened with the men calling out to you. You knew there would be many of them in front of you but never assumed that many. Instead of somewhat flattering, the siege is terrifying and imposing.

Looking for help or advice, just something that will ease your tension, you silently look around the long hall. Your gaze falls on the same slouched, dark figure. Strange peacefulness washes over you when his eyes meet yours.

The dim candlelight seems to bend around Ivar, making his corner appear darker than anywhere else in the long hall. He's simply sitting there. Maybe he's not interested? But the way he's staring at you shows nothing if not burning curiosity. The sons of Ragnar aren't know for their patience. No, they're said to take whatever they want the moment their desire sparks. Despite that, the youngest of them, and arguably the most famous, appears to be waiting. But for what exactly?

The fresh pine needles prick your skin. You furrow your eyebrows. Your gaze falls to the wreath and then comes back to Ivar. Could it be...?

It isn't much of a throw, really. You toss the flower crown towards him without looking anywhere else but into Ivar's eyes. Without as much as blinking, he catches the wreath with ease as though he has been prepared for that. Low murmurs hit your ears but quickly the sounds of disappointment fall silent as it's made clear who caught your wreath. Despite their initial determination, the men who had been reaching out to you suddenly disperse like fog does in the early morning. They knew better than to get under the skin of a Lothbrok. Especially that one.

"I believe this belongs to you."

Ivar is holding up the wreath. Despite his words, he makes no effort to offer it back to you. His eyes are bright and glistening, the corner of his mouth is tugged ever-so-slightly upwards. He appears amused.

At first, it was nice to finally sit down after dancing for what seemed to be hours on end. But now, when you're facing the consequences of your spur-of-the-moment decision, the tension sets in once more. This time, however, it doesn't feel threatening. In turn, the nervousness is somewhat welcome like the jittery state before a surprise is revealed.

"If I wanted to keep it, I wouldn't have thrown it," you answer in a light tone.

"And why should I keep it?"

The blue eyes study you for a moment. It's a strange feeling - you can't help but think that the longer you are in Ivar's presence, talking or not, he's reading your mind and soul. He stares at you in a way that tells you he already holds all the answers but wants you to confirm them.

"It's said to bring good luck." You shrug your shoulders. "Until the wreath wilts and dies, Freya and Freyr will look after you."

Ivar looks at the flower crown again. Only now, when he's holding it, does he realize that for a flower crown, there aren't many flowers. A few sandworts and poppies, yes, but the wreath is made mostly of evergreen plants. It might take weeks until the crown wilts.

The microcosm seems closed again. Now it's not you and the bagpipes but you and him. It's strange and it's new but it's not threatening. It's not the kind of presence a man of his infamy should have. Or perhaps you've simply fallen for his honey trap.

"Why did you throw it to me?" Ivar tries to make the question seem unimportant, just curiosity brought to light. But he can't quite convince himself that he doesn't care. There's a hint of something vulnerable and genuine when the words roll off his tongue. It's easy to miss like a dandelion clock carried away by a gust of wind.

You wish you knew the answer yourself.

"I don't know really," you say honestly. "Perhaps it was one of the gods that threw the flower crown for me." You make a pause. Ivar's face is unreadable. "Or perhaps I have no interest in urgent, desperate men."

Ivar chuckles. A deep shadow is covering part of his face, making him appear kind of sinister. For a moment, you question whether he's laughing with you or at you.

"And what exactly makes you think I'm not urgent or desperate?" he continues. You notice his smile is growing wider. That glint of amusement in his blue eyes has changed in mischief. "What if I'm worse than all of them? You surely know who I am."

"Of course I do, Ivar the Boneless," you drone the words. In a barely noticeable fashion, he clenches his jaw when you say his name. It makes him feel a strange, burning sensation in his stomach but Ivar is left unsure whether he likes it or detests. "The whispers of your ruthless character are unending."

"But you're not afraid?" he asks with both disbelief and suspicion. A girl with a flower crown doesn't necessarily strike him as fearless in any way. Or this whole strange situation is a little too good, too dream-like, for him to accept it at face-value.

Ivar's smile falters when your face takes on a confident, maybe even arrogant, expression. He's taken aback.

"I'm a woman of the North," you say while leaning towards him on the table. The distance between your faces shortnes. "The only person I fear is my own reflection."

The sudden closeness makes Ivar inhale sharply. The strong smell of pine needles fills his nostrils. For a moment, his imagination runs wild but it's not his fault - he has no grasp on it:

How those big eyes glistened in the semi-dark of the long hall as you were staring at him. Your smirk, somewhat challenging and beckoning him to push on. Then, the smell of conifer that shakes all senses awake. His fantasy leaves the northern snows and travelles to forests, to him brushing pine needles from your hair and your naked, flushes skin smelling of evergreen trees.

But quickly his shaken awake, to his utmost displeasure, by you:

"Well, if you don't want it, I suppose I should take it back, no?"

Your hand unsurely reaches out for the wreath in Ivar's hand. He's quick to pull his arm back.

"It's bad luck to take back gifts," he states plainly. In an act of nonchalance, Ivar is playing with the wreath, spinning it around his finger. "I should like to keep it."

Sometimes you come back to the night you've met the infamous Viking, when you're rendered sleepless while he's calmly breathing next to you, getting the rest he desperately needs. How funny all of it seems - that a flower crown in bloodied, merciless hands could lead to having a genuine crown on your head. Maybe you were right, after all, and it really was the hand of one of the gods that threw the wreath for you.

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megalony · 4 months

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Did I Fall?

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I hope you all like it. Feedback is always amazing and boosts me to carry on.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff

911 Masterlist

Summary: While out in the storm, (Y/n) gets struck by lightning and her husband, brother and family gather round to try and save her.

Enjoy.

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"Are you ready baby?"

(Y/n) turned around so her back was facing the ladder and a smile crept onto her face when she realised how close her husband was standing behind her. She watched the way he clamped his hands down on the handrail of the ladder, pinning her in front of him with no escape.

He leaned forward, arching his bum out as his lips rolled together and his eyes darted down to her lips. Despite the rain clattering down around them, Eddie's vision focused in on those dark lips he was desperate to touch. His tongue darted out across his lower lip when he felt (Y/n) drag her hand across his jaw and tilt his chin up so their eyes were level again.

They were on the job. He couldn't have wandering eyes because they would lead to wandering hands and they promised to be professional if they were joined up on shifts together.

"I think so." (Y/n) tilted her head back and squinted up at the sky. Why did it have to be raining and thundering when they were on shift? Couldn't this weather have waited a few hours? Their shifts ended at midnight, the rain could have held off until then.

"Alright then, Mrs Diaz, here you go." His sultry voice sent shivers running up and down (Y/n)'s spine and her lips parted when he reached up for his helmet. He took it off and slumped it down on (Y/n)'s head instead. She had cracked her helmet earlier on in the day and if she was going up the ladder, Eddie wanted his wife to have a bit more protection. Just to be safe.

He slanted it on her head a little to annoy her and when he clipped the buckle onto the harness around her waist, he used it as leverage to tug her closer. Her hands clamped down on his shoulders and her waist bumped into his as he curved an arm around her middle.

Her eyes landed on the red cable clipped onto her waist that reached down to the winch at the bottom of the ladder. Safety first.

(Y/n) leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, feeling the salt water rain down over Eddie's nose and drip down his lips. She sunk her teeth into his lower lip and gave a little tug which earned her a slap on the bum and quiet murmur of 'be professional' against her lips.

It was a good job the night was as dark as this with the rain morphing and disfiguring their image for the rest of the team below. The last thing they wanted was for anyone to say they weren't being professional. And they both knew how Evan hated them putting on a display when he was around. It had taken Evan a while to get used to the fact that his little sister was married to his best friend.

"Go get 'em cowgirl."

(Y/n) kissed the tip of Eddie's nose before she turned around and curled her fingers around the ladder.

Her eyes rolled and she supressed a smile when she felt his hand on her bum again before he reached his foot out and clicked the lock off the winch so the rope would extend.

Eddie kept his hands on the ladder and stayed arched forwards, keeping his eyes on his wife as she slowly ascended up the ladder. The plan was for (Y/n) to climb onto the balcony, evacuate the fifth floor and Evan and Bobby would go in through the lobby and make sure everyone got out. While Chimney and Hen were working with the hose, Eddie was operating the winch and standing by in case he had to follow up the ladder too.

It was hard to see anything through the thick downpour. The rain was so heavy that (Y/n) couldn't see the ladder in front of her with the torrential downpour that made Eddie's helmet jutter on her head and drop the rain down onto the tip of her nose.

Her lips were drenched, her lashes were fighting off the rain and every inch of her skin was starting to shake from the low temperature.

"Bloody rain," She muttered to herself as she reached the end of the ladder and took a quick glance around.

(Y/n) tilted her head over the side of the ladder and let herself look over the edge.

She found Bobby rather easily despite being high up near the fifth floor and she smiled. He had been a father to her and Evan since they first joined the team. Bobby and Evan were hanging back, they were waiting to guide everybody out and they needed Hen and Chimney to put some of the fire out first before they went in. (Y/n) nodded when she saw Bobby give her a thumbs up, the silent go ahead sign she needed so she could proceed into the building.

But her body tremored and she slumped forward and hunkered down when a horrid noise tore through the sky. Her eyes lifted and her head snapped up towards the sky but all she could see was thousands of white droplets raining down from the heavens. The sky was a misty blue mixed with swirls of black like a canvas with only a few swirls of clouds to be seen through the rain.

"Was that lightning?" (Y/n) curled her fingers around her radio and leaned her head down.

If that was lightning they needed to be careful or pull back. The truck was a magnet for lightning and electricity, they had already been down to the beach yesterday when lightning struck the sand. They didn't need it getting closer to this scene and causing problems.

Eddie straightened up and tilted his head up towards the sky before he looked back at his wife.

The sky looked unforgiving, full of darkness without a single glimmer of light to guide them tonight. It made the building look like a beacon in the sheet of blackness, shining a vibrant burgendy with melted orange flames flickering at the sides. Leaking brown ash clouds up into the night sky.

"Baby, do you need a hand?" Eddie gripped his radio and raised a brow, keeping his eyes on his wife. It wasn't strictly professional but Eddie hardly ever used (Y/n)'s name anymore, even on shift he was so used to using nicknames. No one on the team minded, as long as they weren't handsy with each other, nicknames didn't cause a problem.

"I don't kn-"

Lightning broke through the clouds, a true act of God right before their eyes and Eddie swore he could see a hand throwing the lightning bolt down at them like an act of vengeance.

Eddie heard her scream. It was the howl of a banshee that tore through his heart and set off an explosion in his chest.

His eyes snapped closed and a mimicking sound left his own lips when sparks flew from the ladder and seemed to set the truck alight. He couldn't keep hold of the ladder and the force sent him backwards until he was falling through the air. All the air burst out of Eddie's lungs when his back hit the ground and the jolt it sent through his system made him shake on the floor.

Oh God, he had broken a rib, he could feel it.

His eyes couldn't focus when he managed to open them and his arm bound around his chest as he rolled onto his left side with a guttural groan. His knees felt weak and his back burned when he tried to sit himself up and take a look around.

"What the fuck was that?" Evan's voice tore through the air and he reached his hand down for Eddie's hand so he could hoist him up to his feet.

Eddie shook his head to rid the static from his ears and the pounding pain in his head. He grabbed the back of his neck and tilted his head round to click his neck into place, but once he lifted his head and looked up, his body went rigid. All the blood drained down to his feet. His arms dropped at his sides. His jaw went slack and his pupils took over his chocolate eyes that couldn't look anywhere else but up in the sky.

Eddie didn't realise he was screaming until his lungs started to burn for oxygen and he felt lightheaded.

His hand reached out and he gave Evan a shove towards the truck, pointing and gasping for him to grab the winch. His wife was hurt. Evan's little sister was in peril. The girl Bobby thought of as his daughter was hanging in mid-air, lifeless.

The buckle clip was the only thing stopping (Y/n) from plummeting through the air and crashing down on the concrete below. It suspended her in the air, four stories high above them like an omen of death. Her legs and arms dangled limp and lifeless at her sides and when Eddie looked close enough, he could see them swaying in the breeze. Her head was snapped back enough that it looked like her neck had been broken.

The helmet Eddie had plonked on her head less than five minutes ago was now laid on the floor, most definitely cracked and probably broken just like (Y/n)'s helmet had been this morning.

"Lower her down! Get her down to me she's not moving!" Eddie stumbled through the rain, crashing his boots down into puddles that splashed up as high as his shoulders. He barged past Bobby and waved his hand out at Evan who was already on top of the truck, screaming as he started to lower the winch. Eddie ran until his chest was heaving and he was stood directly beneath his wife's suspended form.

"Hen we need a gurney! Chimney back up the ambulance let's go." Bobby shouted out as he waved his hands for them to hurry. They were now in the golden time zone and if they didn't move fast enough, they could lose (Y/n).

"Faster!"

As soon as (Y/n) started to sway and jutter as the red rope lowered her down, Eddie pushed up on his toes and stretched his arms high up into the rain to reach for her. His hand pressed between her shoulder blades and his other hand cupped the back of her thigh as Hen pushed a gurney directly beneath her.

"Unhook her." Eddie took (Y/n)'s weight when Bobby unclipped the buckle and he laid (Y/n) down and slid his hands from beneath her.

He ripped off his gloves and scrunched his fingers around her florescent jacket. Without thinking twice, Eddie wrenched the jacket apart and tore the zipper that wet flying through the air. He threw the loose sides apart and moved his hands to (Y/n)'s shirt which he had no problem tearing away like it was a tissue he was discarding.

It left (Y/n) in her crimson red bra and exposed her chest and stomach that were soaked. Rain continued to patter down on her skin like fingertips drumming out a beat but her body didn't react at all. No shivers, no spasms, no goosebumps or hairs standing up on end. Nothing.

Eddie's upper lip curled when he noticed red, bubbling streaks slithering across her right arm, up her shoulder and down over her chest like a horrible rash spreading like wildfire.

But it was her stomach that made bile rise in the back of his throat.

Her scar.

The scar she got from Masie's C-section six months ago. She had only come back to work little over two weeks ago after having Masie. (Y/n) shouldn't be laid here like this. That scar was a reminder that she had people counting on her. They had two kids waiting at home for them. Eddie couldn't be the only one to walk back through that door, he had to get (Y/n) through this and get her home to their kids. She couldn't leave them, not now, not like this.

"Baby… oh God, mi amor." Eddie cupped her face in his hands and kept her head and neck straight. Her skin felt lifeless. There was no colour, no heat, not a single muscle moving or twitching beneath his touch. His right hand moved down and his fingers pressed against her neck deep enough to try and feel for a pulse.

When he felt nothing, Eddie shifted his hand lower and pressed his palm down hard on her sternum. Her chest wasn't moving.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n), fuck- tell me she's breathing."

Evan jumped behind Hen and Eddie and fell into Bobby who held him up before he collapsed down onto his sister on the stretcher. His hands fought to grab Bobby's shoulders, unsure whether he was actually trying to hold Bobby or move him out the way.

"She's not breathing… I can't find a pulse we need to move!"

Evan screamed and pushed forward against Bobby who held him back. Evan was too emotional, he could barely see due to the tears streaming down his face and he was shaking from shock. At least Eddie was somewhat composed and was ready and able to look after (Y/n).

Hen placed the medic pack down beside (Y/n)'s left thigh and opened it up but before she could even attempt to grab the defibrilator, Eddie reached out first. He slapped her hand away and gave the bag a rough shove until it almost toppled off the side of the gurney.

"You really wanna send more electricity through my wife? Look at her she's drenched! You're not frying her to a crisp."

(Y/n) was covered in rain from head to toe and their suits weren't water proof. Now Eddie had ripped apart her clothes, she was getting consumed with water. Lightning had already shocked her heart once but if they tried to do it again when she was wet, they would be executing her with no chance of revival.

Eddie wouldn't let her do that to his wife.

"This is Captain Nash, we have a firefighter down. Repeat, firefighter down who has been struck by lightning. Requesting medic team on standby at Mercy hospital, we are on our way."

"Get her in I have to start CPR or I'm gonna lose her." Eddie all but growled until people started to listen and they helped him wheel the gurney up into the ambulance Chimney had backed right over to them.

As soon as the gurney was inside, Eddie climbed up onto the metal frame and shed his jacket like a second skin. Evan jumped up in the back along with Hen and they both slumped down into the seats opposite Eddie and Bobby hopped in the front with Chimney. The other station could finish up here and get the building evacuated and the fire put out. They had to protect one of their own and rush her to the hospital before they lost her.

"You are not allowed to do this. You hear me? Don't go anywhere, mi amor."

Eddie locked his fingers together, straightened his elbows and pressed his fists against the middle of (Y/n)'s chest. He gulped and choked when he started to push down on her chest.

He'd never done anything like this on one of his own family before. He'd never given CPR to his wife.

Why did it have to be (Y/n)? Why didn't Eddie go up the ladder instead of her?

(Y/n) couldn't die.

She couldn't die here and now. Not when the whole team was here to bring her back and Eddie, Evan and Bobby would give their souls to the devil if it would bring (Y/n) back. She wasn't allowed to leave them, there was no way Evan or Eddie could cope in a life without (Y/n).

Eddie stopped his compressions when he reached thirty and slumped over the stretcher to reach into one of the drawers opposite. He didn't give Hen the chance to help and when she tried to talk, Eddie's firm expression told her not to even try. She watched Eddie place the air bag over (Y/n)'s mouth and nose and manually squeeze two breaths past her lips before he put the mask down and continued his compressions.

Evan lowered his eyes down to the gurney and reached out to curl both his trembling hands around his sister's limp hand. Her skin felt like rubber against his touch, taut and cold and lifeless and it made Evan choke. He pulled her hand to press his lips against the back of her knuckles and his blurry vision zoomed in on her eyes.

He couldn't look anywhere else.

Her shirt was ripped open, exposing her chest which wasn't a sight Evan wanted to see and he truly didn't want to watch his brother in law press down on his sister's chest so hard it looked like he was going to crack through her ribs. And Evan couldn't look at (Y/n)'s face. Not when she wasn't moving, breathing, twitching or even opening her eyes.

Tremors rattled through Eddie's chest as he tried to keep himself calm. He could feel the rain and sweat rolling down his skin, sinking beneath the collar of his shirt, beneath his arms and even through his trousers. His skin was flushed red and radiating heat despite the cold night air and goosebumps prickled over his arms as his numb fingers continued to press down into his wife's chest deep enough to feel her ribs creaking beneath his hands.

Hen silently leaned over and found some towels and flannels from a drawer. She started to wipe the cloths over (Y/n)'s chest in frantic motions to clear up as much of the water as possible. CPR wasn't going to be enough. Her heart had been shocked, she would need another shock to get it going again and soon.

She clipped a monitor onto (Y/n)'s finger and grabbed the white plastic sticker, planting it down firmly in the middle of (Y/n)'s chest before she patted Eddie's shoulder.

"Stand clear."

Spit rolled down the corner of Eddie's mouth and he heaved each breath until stars danced across his vision. He let go of (Y/n)'s chest and took a step back while Evan dropped her head and braced his hands on his knees. Evan pressed his back up against the wall and closed his eyes.

Both men winced and made gurgling, horrified sounds when the shock ignited through (Y/n)'s chest and arched her back up from the stretcher before she flopped back down; lifeless.

"Go again." Evan wiped his sleeve against his eyes before he slammed his hand down on the gurney. They had to do it again, she needed another shock. Her heart wasn't beating, the monitor was flatlining.

"No. Her heart won't stand much more. Starting compressions until we get to the hospital." Eddie braced one hand on the roof and the other on the stretched before he swung his leg over and climbed up. His knees clamped down into (Y/n)'s damp legs and he sank back onto her thighs, with a grimace. He wasn't used to doing this in such a panicked, horrid situation.

They couldn't risk shocking her heart more than necessary or else it would give out completely. She had already endured a violent shock that had likely affected her heart, lungs and probably her liver too. More shocks would only crucify her heart and ensure she was dead.

Eddie started compressions again, blinking away the tears that dripped down onto (Y/n)'s cheeks as he started to growl and gasp each time he pushed down.

He didn't feel the ambulance rolling to a stop until the back doors swung wide open and he tilted his head over his shoulder. Locking eyes with Bobby whose heart visibly dropped to his stomach when he saw that they hadn't managed to get her rhythm back again.

He and Chimney tried to be careful when they lowered the gurney down to the floor and Evan kept tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand, pulling her arm until it was pinned across his chest. He kissed the back of her hand repeatedly, freely crying as he and Hen followed them all inside.

As soon as they were inside the doors of the ambulance entrance to the hospital, Eddie held his hand out to get them to stop. He clenched his hands down on the gurney beside (Y/n)'s shoulders and climbed over the side to jump back down to his feet.

"Go again. Everybody stand clear."

On Eddie's word, Hen set the defibrilator up again and everyone held their breaths and watched the jolt rush through (Y/n)'s chest.

No one knew who made a sound when her heartbeat suddenly came back.

"I've got a pulse… but she's still not breathing. I need to intubate." Eddie pressed his palm against (Y/n)'s chest but she still wasn't breathing. Her heart wouldn't last long if she wasn't taking in any oxygen.

"We can-"

"Get the Hell off my wife! I'm intubating."

His arm flung out to the right and slapped into whichever nurse tried to pull him back. He wasn't having anyone else bustle in and waste more time. (Y/n) hated hospitals and she was his wife. Eddie was the one she trusted the most to look after her when she wasn't well so he was going to be the one to intubate her and get her breathing.

Everyone stood silent as Eddie rummaged in the medic bag Hen had left on the side of the gurney.

He cupped (Y/n)'s chin, brushing his thumb across her lower lip as he tilted her head back and wedged a tongue clamp into her mouth. He held his free hand out, keeping his eyes focused on (Y/n)'s parted lips and he clicked his fingers until someone placed an intubation tube between his fingers. The thin, clear tube slid easily down (Y/n)'s throat and as swift as the lightning that hit her, Eddie attached the air bag on the end.

He finally let a nurse get close enough to start squeezing the bag to give (Y/n) each breath until they could get her on a ventilator.

"What have we got?"

"(Y/n) Diaz, female, twenty-two, struck by lightning."

Eddie leaned to the right and suddenly took Bobby's wrist in his hand so he could check Bobby's watch. His eyes then raked down to his own watch, squinting to see through the broken glass of his watch.

"She's had no pulse for three minutes and seventeen seconds," Eddie could barely hear himself huff but those times rattled around in his head. His watch had broken when he fell off the truck and that had roughly been the exact time (Y/n) stopped breathing, give or take a few seconds. It was the closest estimate they had and it made Eddie want to be sick. He didn't want to know the exact amount of time his wife's heart had given out on him.

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair and tugged so harshly he winced and felt a few loose hairs become stuck between his fingers. What were they going to do? How were they going to take care of his wife? What did someone do for a lightning strike? Did people usually survive this kind of thing- had this ever happened before?

"She's allergic to naproxen." Bobby clamped his hands down on his hips as he watched them barely nod along with him.

"We'll take her from here," One of the nurses placed a hand on Eddie's shoulder, but she let him lean down and hastily kiss her temple.

"No, no please-"

"Buck come on, they'll look after her."

A wave of hurt washed over Evan's face and torrential tears flushed his face when Bobby held his biceps to pin him back. He didn't want them to take his sister away. If she lost her rhythm again and they didn't bring her back, that would be it. Evan wouldn't get a chance to talk to her or tell her how much he loved her. He wouldn't be able to say goodbye.

Bobby wrapped his arms around Evan and pulled him back, letting Evan press into his shoulder and start to gasp for breath. "Take care of her."

"We'll do our best."

"Do more!"

Eddie didn't want their best. He wanted everything possible and more to be done to look after his wife. He wanted to go with her and hold her hand and oversee what they were doing to make sure they did whatever they could. Eddie wanted to make a deal with the devil to save her if he could.

No one stopped Eddie when he turned around and pummelled his fists into the wall. He kept going until a dint started to form in the plaster and his knuckles split, spraying blood across the magnolia wall while a roaring scream erupted from his lips.

He couldn't lose her.

***

"Do you want to take a break, maybe go and get a drink?" Athena tentatively laid a hand down on Bobby's shoulder as she leaned against his chair. Her head tilted down so she could kiss the top of his head and her other hand moved to hold his other shoulder, but it was as if he didn't even register her touch.

He had been sat here all night, rosary beads clenched between his fingers and pressed against his lips. He was chanting something so quiet Athena couldn't be sure whether it was a prayer or a memory he was trying to retell to himself.

"No, thank you."

Bobby didn't bother to look up as he spoke, but he did finally open his eyes that instantly locked onto (Y/n).

"You need to rest. When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't remember." He wasn't sure what day it was. He didn't know if he had been sitting here all night, all day or for a whole week. All Bobby knew was that if he left and something happened, he would never forgive himself. This was his child laid here, someone he thought of as closely as his own kin and he couldn't go anywhere.

"Bobby…" That tone of voice made him sigh, but not in a horrid kind of way.

He leaned his head back into Athena's chest and dropped his hands down to his lap. He rolled the rosary along his leg but his eyes still wouldn't move away from (Y/n).

"She's my kid," He could feel his lower lip wobbling and his voice came out barely more than a quiet whisper. "She said that… that she thinks of me as her dad. She wants Masie to be my grandkid, how can I- how can I go when she might die?"

How could he leave her now?

(Y/n) told Bobby a few months ago that she thought of him as her dad, that she wished somehow, that it could be possible. He had always let Evan call him pops and more and more, Bobby acted like a father to the siblings whether they were on shift or not. They came over to his house, they went out for meals together and spoke through problems and dealt with their problems together.

When she and Eddie had Masie, (Y/n) asked Bobby to be her grandad because her parents weren't going to be involved. She thought of Bobby and Athena as her parents.

They couldn't go anywhere when she might die. If the worst was to happen, Bobby wanted to be right by (Y/n)'s side to comfort her and ease her through the transition. He wanted to hold her hand and kiss her goodbye and tell her he would keep her in his thoughts every single day. And that he would look after Evan and Eddie and Chris and Masie.

Bobby couldn't leave.

He didn't notice Athena move one hand from his shoulder to pinch the bridge of her nose. She didn't cry often. Her job hardened her exterior and made it hard to express much of anything, even joy. But all those years of experience did nothing to stop the tears from falling right now.

She had two children of her own, but when she married Bobby, she gained another two. Losing (Y/n) would feel the same as losing May and it would break Evan and Bobby completely.

"We're not leaving, okay? Do you think she would let you sit and wither away in this chair? She has some special visitors coming up so you can let me take you for some food, then we will come right back."

There was no use in arguing, Bobby knew this and he figured Eddie and Evan would want some time alone with (Y/n). They had been gracious enough to never comment on how long Bobby stayed for and they seemed grateful for his company. But he knew as much as they were thankful he stuck around, they both needed some time alone. She was Evan's little sister, he needed some time to talk to her and beg her to be okay. And she was Eddie's wife, that certainly qualified him some time to be alone with her and sit vigil by her bedside.

He figured the special visitor might be Maddie and Chimney.

Bobby pushed up from the chair and rested his hand over (Y/n)'s. He forced himself to smile as he leaned over her and kissed her temple, whispering a quiet 'I'll be back soon' before he followed Athena out.

They didn't walk far before Athena pressed her hand into Bobby's chest and stopped him just as a few people rounded the corner.

"Are you sure about this?" Athena looked across at Eddie when he rounded the corner with Chris in front of him and Masie in his arms.

His hand moved up to cradle the back of Masie's head and he pressed his lips to her temple, brushing his nose against the little wisps of hazel brown hair tufting along her head. Eddie hitched her higher against his chest, relishing in the weight she applied to his chest like a calming weighted blanket easing away his anxiety and preventing a panic attack.

But it was Chris his eyes kept going back to. The little boy was walking determinedly in front of him, keeping a slow pace in case they had to stop and wait for any nurses to walk past. Kids weren't allowed in the ICU, but that wasn't going to stop them. Chris wanted to see (Y/n) and Eddie couldn't persuade him otherwise, so he gave up.

"Yeah, we are. Could you watch Masie for a while… I don't wanna take her in with us,"

"Sure." Bobby wasn't sure whether it was the look Athena gave Eddie that made him ask or whether he truly didn't want to take Masie in with them. But Bobby answered immediately and he could feel his heart lifting in his chest when he looked at the six-month-old.

This was probably a diversion, a tactic to get Bobby to leave (Y/n)'s side and try to recooperate before he went back in. And he would accept this because he could do (Y/n) a favour and watch over Masie until she was better again.

"Go to grandad," Eddie cooed quietly against her temple as he eased her into Bobby's arms where she happily cuddled up and started to pull on his shirt.

He watched them disappear down the corridor before he opened the door and let Chris walk in ahead of him. He had prepared Chris for what he was going to see. (Y/n) wasn't going to be alert, responsive or able to communicate with him. She would effectively be asleep with monitoring stickers on her chest, a breathing tube down her throat and wires and tubes stuck beneath the covers into her body.

Eddie was surprised that Chris didn't seem affected when they walked in. He moved over to the chair Eddie knew Bobby had been in all night and sank himself down and let his crutches drop to the floor.

"Can mum hear me?"

Chris had taken to referring to (Y/n) as his mum since she had been in his life for the last four years. He couldn't remember much about Shannon, she hadn't been in his life since he was four and a half but (Y/n) had been there since he was five. She was all Chris knew and he loved her and thought of her as his real mum.

"I don't know, I hope so. The doctor said talking can help." A big part of Eddie hoped that (Y/n) could hear them, however deep her subconscious had been hidden away. He hoped she could hear them tell her how much they loved her and how badly they needed her back.

Eddie leaned against the window and folded his arms over his chest, staying in the background to give Chris some space.

"Mum, it's me. Uncle Buck said you'll wake up soon," He leaned forward, flopped his elbows onto the mattress and moved around until he could hold (Y/n)'s hand. "I want you to wake up soon… dad will look after you and make you better."

Eddie tilted his head back into the window and scrunched up his nose while he wiped his eyes. He didn't want to burst out crying and upset or worry Chris and make this harder for him. But Eddie didn't know if (Y/n) was going to wake up. He had no idea if she was ever coming off this ventilator, if he would hear her voice and kiss her lips and see her get out of that bed.

The unknown made Eddie afraid. He didn't do well being alone. He couldn't go back to being a single dad. He couldn't bring up two kids on his own. He hadn't been there for the first part of Chris's life and Eddie was doing his best to be more present in Chris's life and be there for all of Masie's. He wasn't bringing them both up without (Y/n).

"You'll be okay. I love you."

Eddie's shoulders quaked and he brought his hands up to smother his face, forcing himself not to breathe or make a single sound. He didn't want to gasp for breath or scream or cry out but he didn't know what to do with himself. He could feel a cry bubbling up and gurgling at the back of his throat.

Why hadn't it been him that went up the ladder?

***

"She's breathing fine without the ventilator now, all her vitals seem good. We just need to wait and see if she will come out of the coma okay."

How long would they have to wait? How long did they have before they knew if she was ever going to wake up? What would happen if she woke up and she couldn't speak or move or even remember any of them? What if she was changed, somehow, permanently, from this?

Eddie wouldn't be able to go through life if one of those things turned out to be true.

"Y-you're rather heavy baby… you know that?"

A quiet grumble left Eddie's lips and his eyes twitched behind his eyelids while he nuzzled his head further down and tried to keep his mind in a dreary state of sleep. But once those words- and that lullaby voice, registered in Eddie's ears, his eyes shot open and his head snapped up so fast he cracked his neck.

His hands planted down on either side of the bed and he bolted to sit up, swaying back and forth when the blood drained from his head and he couldn't see straight.

He was imagining things. He was hearing voices. He had to be. That was a voice Eddie told himself he was never going to hear again. A voice he saved for when he closed his eyes and cried until he finally blacked out, listening to that voice in his memories.

His heart started to pound against his ribs like it was trying to bruise his chest and he could barely see when tears flooded his face.

(Y/n) was awake.

She was trying to blink enough to clear her blurry vision and she hummed quietly to try and clear her throat that felt croaky and dry and hoarse and scratched. A tremble set in down her arm when she tried to curl and bend her fingers and her head hurt when she turned to see who was clenching her hand so tightly the blood couldn't reach her fingertips.

Bobby was holding her hand. Evan had his feet propped up against hers as he slouched down in the other chair. Eddie had been laid on the bed with her and had shuffled in his sleep until his head was on her chest and his arm had been draped around her waist.

"Oh my God."

Before she knew what was happening, (Y/n) gasped and closed her eyes when Eddie's hands moved to cup her face and his lips planted down on hers. Thousands of kisses fluttered against her lips as his thumbs rapidly brushed across her cheeks and his arms squeezed into her shoulders to pin her beneath him.

"You're awake, you're awake," Was the only thing Eddie could fathom to say on repeat, over and over against her lips he was going to bruise.

When (Y/n) managed to squeeze Bobby's hand, she felt him push Evan's legs off the bed to jolt him awake before all of them were leaning over her. Eddie pulled back enough for Bobby to lean down and kiss her temple and she felt Evan grab her hand and drag her arm up until the back of her hand was pressed up against his cheek. He kissed her wrist while Eddie leaned forward and pressed his temple down into her shoulder to try and stop himself from blacking out.

"Did I fall?" (Y/n)'s quiet, meek voice took them all by surprise and for a few seconds, none of them could find an answer.

Bobby perched down on the side of the bed while Evan scraped his chair along the floor until his knees were wedged under the bed frame and he could lean his head near her arm. And when Eddie pulled up to hover over her, despite the tears staining his face, he was smiling.

"No, sweetheart, you got struck by lightning." Bobby kept tight hold over her hand and smoothed his free hand up and down her arm, minding the rosary beads he still had curled around his fingers and tangled over his wrist.

It was almost endearing to see the look of wonder and surprise that pooled within (Y/n)'s eyes and how her lips parted in a round shape of shock.

"Where's Chris?" Her words took Eddie by surprise as she tilted her head forward to press her temple against his and nudge his nose.

"Maddie took him to school, mi amor. Why?"

"I thought I heard his voice…" (Y/n) trailed off and closed her eyes as a smile graced her lips. She pecked Eddie's lips and squeezed Evan and Bobby's hands. It was the strangest feeling, like she was waking up from a very lucid dream that was now fading right before her eyes. (Y/n) had heard so many voices while she had been asleep and some of them were ringing in the back of her head.

She guessed she hadn't really heard Chris after all, he must have been playing on her mind as she recovered and woke up.

But (Y/n) could of sworn she heard Chris.

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #eddie imagnie #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #bobby nash

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coyfoxarts · 8 months

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Sometimes self love is making designs for your OC for a show you haven't watched yet

#2023 #imagnie if a guy got trapped in the spirit world would that be fucked up or what.

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alloftheimaginesblog · 1 year

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merry christmas {p.p}

plot: christmas is peter's least favourite time of the year

character: peter parker (tasm) x reader

warning: angst, sad, death

He could hear the stifled giggles coming from beside him as you crawled into bed beside him. He rolled over, reaching out to tug you close to him, "Merry Christmas, Pete," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, "Santa's been!"

Had Peter had his eyes open they would've been rolling. Christmas was your favourite time of year. You'd decorated the small New York apartment to the high heavens to the point it was almost difficult to walk around without bumping into a five foot inflatable snowman or inflatable candy cane. You got so excited over Christmas, you'd never lost the childlike excitement of the day. Peter thought it was adorable. He didn't really like Christmas, not after losing his parents, but Uncle Ben and Aunt May always tried to make it happy and exciting for him. Some years were better than others but you made him love it, you made him excited for it. You made Christmas.

"Santa, huh?" He asked with a laugh, pulling you closer.

"Yes now let's go! we've got gifts to open!"

Peter let out a frustrated groan as he rolled over, hands rubbing tiredly at his face almost as though trying to rub the memories away. He hated Christmas. He hated it. His plans of sleeping the day away had been rudely interrupted by the memories and the pounding headache that the bottle of whiskey Aunt May had gifted him for his birthday had brought on. He'd tried to drown out the sadness, wash away the memories with Jack Daniels but if anything, it made them worse and the hangover left him vulnerable with his defences down.

He forced himself up and out of bed but this time there were no decorations around the apartment. Instead it was cold and dark and... lifeless.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he said, "I told you that my money's tight just now and I-"

"Pete," you said as you placed a kind hand on his, "It's okay, I promise... besides I didn't get you anything, it was all Santa."

He rolled his eyes, laughing at you, "Yeah, right."

He raised his head to look at his reflection. God, I look awful. Red eyes - red from crying so much, from the hangover or from the pitiful sleep? All three probably. His hair was unkempt and his face unshaven. He looked as bad as he felt. He didn't really give a crap though and instead left the bathroom to grab a hoodie. He pulled on his shoes and left the apartment.

Aunt May knew how hard a day it was for herself without her husband and she knew how hard it was for Peter without his parents, without his uncle and now without you. She'd been calling him all morning but to no avail. Aunt May knew where he would be; she always seemed to know. She knew that he would be trying to push her away, block everyone out and that way it doesn't hurt, right? Wrong. She picked up her umbrella and walked the short distance to the place she knew he visited when he was upset. It didn't take her long to walk, ten minutes and she was standing at the cemetery gates.

When she'd lost Ben, she had a routine like this too. First thing in the morning, she'd head to the cemetery and talk to him, cry to him, sob and wail and beg him to come back. It was torture and therapy all simultaneously.

She walked the familiar path to where she knew Peter would be and she found him, drenched and sobbing, in front of the grave with your name on it. Her heart broke for him. Mid twenties but in this state, knees pressed to his chest and sobbing his heart out, she saw that young boy who lost his parents far too early.

He looked up only when Aunt May shielded his body from the rain. She had to be strong for him today so she smiled, nodded and sat down on the gravel beside him. It was wet and cold but she had to be here for him. She had to do this for him; for you. "Hi, (y/n)," she said loudly over the sound of the rain. Peter began to cry harder, head on Aunt May's shoulder, sobbing into the crook of her neck like he used to do when he'd skin his knees after falling off his skateboard as a kid, "Merry Christmas. I know you always loved the holidays-" her voice cracked, "Ben did too. Always made such a fuss over them, didn't he honey?"

Peter half laughed, half sobbed, "Yeah," he whispered.

It took him a while to peel himself off of Aunt May. When he did, they were soaked to the bone and shivering. He wiped the tears away and cleared his throat, "Merry Christmas, (y/n)."

He looked to Aunt May who smiled back at him with watery eyes. Her expression said so many things to Peter that he understood immediately.

I love you.

I'm so sorry.

You'll be okay.

I miss them all too.

Aunt May squeezed his hand and together, they stood up and began to walk back home.

"(y/n), what the hell? This is so expensive, you shouldn't have!"

You were grinning at him, wide and happy, "But I wanted to see you smile, Pete! Can you blame me for wanting to see that goddamn pretty smile?!"

Peter laughed, "Oh but I thought Santa got me it, not you."

Your eyes widened, "Oh no, I've been found out!" The smile pulled up the corners of your lips as you leaned in to his ear, "I am Santa."

Peter's laughter grew louder and louder as he pulled you in close, "Yeah?" He asked, "Well, thank you, Santa." His lips pressed against yours, warm and soft. He pulled back too soon, pressing his forehead to yours, "Merry Christmas, (y/n)."

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dreamescapeswriting · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 6 ~ Edging ~ HJS [M] [Request]

⤜WORD COUNT: 1.9K

⤜PAIRING: Jisung x Fem!Reader

⤜GENRE: smut, minors dni. Oral - Male recieving, sub!Jisung, anal fingering, edging, whiney!jisung, slight degradation - slut, brat, cock slapping, “noona” is used here and there,

⤜MASTERLIST

You teased Jisung completely, sucking on his tip and refusing to go any lower than that while he let out small whimpers and whines with his head thrown back against the pillows.

"Hmm baby, what's wrong?" You teased already knowing that your mouth wasn't doing much of anything to please him but you didn't really care. You enjoyed getting to tease Jisung when he was like this.

"W-Want more." He moaned out as he let out a small gasp, doing his best to catch his breath as you pump him in your hand giving him a small squeeze every now and again.

"You know the rule Jisung, you don't get what you want until you ask nicely for it." You smirked, moving your hands away from him completely and letting his cock bounce back against his abs as he whimpered at you. Your eyes locked with his and you could already see the neediness that was behind his gaze and you giggled a little. He'd been teasing you all day long and it was time you got your payback from it all.

"Want your mouth around my cock," He whined as you let out a giggle and moved closer to him,

"What else do you want Sungie?" You teased, slowly moving your hand to cup his balls while you fondled them playfully, a small whine left his throat as he tried to form words in his head. There were things you'd done many times before together but he still got shy when he was asking for them.

"W-Want your fingers...I-Inside," Was all he managed to say before his cheeks flamed red and you were left with a giant smirk on your lips.

"Oh baby, why didn't you just say that? Does my brat want to be fingered?" You hummed faking sympathy as he nodded eagerly at you and you giggled to yourself.

"Words Jisung," You said sternly before you slapped his cock softly causing him to let out a quick yelp,

"Please! Please!" He begged out as you nodded, reaching over to the side table and retrieving the small bottle of lube from the drawer and applying a little to your fingers.

"You've been so fucking needy all day, wouldn't let me do any work would you?" You asked as you slowly ran your fingers over his hole and smirked to yourself.

"You're just so desperate to be filled with something, you'll do anything won't you?"

"I-I'm sorry-" He barely got the words you before you slapped his cock again and he let out a yelp.

"I didn't say you could apologise. I asked you a question," You growled, taking his cock into your other hand and squeezing softly as he squirmed beneath you. Jisung's moans slipped out louder than before and he buckled his hips toward you,

"D-Desperate for you," He panted out before you rewarded him with a small kiss on the tip of his cock,

"Good brat," You told him before you gently began to bump his whole dick in your hand slowly whilst squeezing ever so gently as he bucked up to meet your hands. But you pushed his hips back down and shook your head at him,

"Don't be bad or you'll only get a worse punishment," You told him as you slowly moved your lubed-up fingers to his hole and pushed your fingers into him.

The high-pitched moan that Jisung let out made your body heat up and he gripped onto the pillows.

"F-Fuck! Fuck!" He cried out as he rolled his head back, his body giving into the pleasure you were giving to him.

"You okay?" You checked, just to make sure none of this was too much for him and he nodded while letting out small whimpers of your name.

"Please...P-Please move." You smirked at him using his manners and you slowly began to slide your fingers in and out of him building up to a rough pace as the moans slipped from his lips. Curse words falling into the mixture but you weren't going to say anything.

"Agh! Fuck! Fuck...Yes!" He cried out as you curled your fingers upwards, pressing against his prostate and his entire body jerked.

"Yn! Yn!" He cried out, his eyes opening as he stared down at you, you smirked gaining more confidence as you move your fingers rougher inside of his tight ass. Your hands moved in time together and you ran your thumb over his slit as you felt pre-cum leak out of him.

"Dirty little slut," You cooed, using his pre-cum to lube your path up and down his cock as he continued to cry out your name when you massage his prostate. The intensity was burning inside of him and he could feel himself getting closer with every pump and thrust,

"Yn!" He warned you as the warm feeling began to build in the pit of his stomach. He knew he wasn't allowed to cum without your permission and yet he couldn't help but chase his high, his hips bucking into your and as he panted heavily.

"S-Shit...I-I'm close!" HE muttered softly as he looked down at you, you smirked as you continued to fuck your fingers deeper into his hole and your hand pumped faster around him, giving him no indication that you gave permission to him but he didn't care. The warmth was washing over him and he was left breathing heavily as he muttered your name over and over again, his back arching away from his bed.

You smirked to yourself as you realised he was on the very edge of his climax and just like that you stopped everything and pulled away from him,

The whine he let out was gratification enough for you and you couldn't help but get turned out at the soft gasps and cry he let out when he realised his climax was fading away.

"No...N-No...Noona please!" He cried out as he tried to bring your hand back to his cock but you let your wrist go limp and he cried out at you. He hated this. He hated when you were getting him so close to his bliss only to rip it away from him.

"P-Please Noona. I'm sorry...I-I won't t-tease ever again!" It was an empty promise but you played along with him, moving closer as you pumped him weakly in your hand.

"You promise?"

"I-I promise...Please just...j-just let me cum," He whimpered as you began to pump a little faster, smirking at him as his cheeks turned pink and he let himself feel good all over again,

"You like it don't you babe? " You teased, bending softly to kiss the tip of his cock as he let out a shaky whine, his heart speeding up as you slowly lapped your tongue around the underside of his sensitive dick.

"You like it when noona teases you, don't you?" His eyes locked with yours through the tears and he nodded at you. "Y-Yes I love it," He moaned out before you slowly began to suck on the head of his cock, licking up all of the precum that had leaked out of him.

"Ah...Fuck, Just like that," He whispered as you slowly began to take him all the way to the back of our throat. Rewarding him by holding yourself down on his large cock until you gagged a little, you slowly pulled away and used your saliva to pump him with ease.

"Hmm, baby? Do you want to cum in my mouth? On my tits? Where do you wanna cum baby?" You teased as you pumped him faster in your hand, the pleasure made Jisung's body shudder and he could barely speak a coherent word to you

"P-Please! Please!" He cried out. The pleasure grew deep inside of him again as he felt himself getting close to his impending release again. The orgasm reached him faster than it had before.

"Shit! S-So warm..." He moaned out as you once again took him into the warmth of your mouth and began to move your head up and down his shaft. Your hand playing with his balls as he let out choked moans.

"Oh...O-Oh fuck," He moaned out as you felt him squirming beneath he was so close...So close.

"Close! C-Close!" He moaned out, but as soon as his dick twitched inside of your mouth you moved away from him and let out a giggle at him.

Tears were running down his flushed cheeks as you denied him his release all over again

"You didn't tell me where you wanted to cum, only good boys who answer questions get to cum." You told him as his bottom lip began to tremble at the sight of you.

"Please! Please let me cum! F-Fuck please!" He cried out as he looked down at you,

"Where Jisung?"

"On your tits...Please let me cum on your tits?!" He rushed out the words and his cheeks were flammed but he didn't care. You giggled and nodded at him, letting him kneel on the bed in front of you as you looked up at him.

The tip of his cock was red from how hard he was and it only turned you on more to know that you had been the one to get him like this.

"Good boy, asking so nicely." You cooed, kissing his thighs before you hissed the tip of his cock.

"Oooh...F-Fuck," He gasped out as you spat onto his cock and began to pump your hand fast up and down his shaft bringing on the orgasm he had been denied already.

"W-What-Oh fuck!" He cried out as you took the head of his cock into your mouth and flicked your tongue over his slit while your hand worked on pumping him quickly.

C-Can I please come?" He looked down at you as you nodded around him, smirking to yourself as you heard him begging to cum. It was a power trip that you'd never get tired of having.

"T-Thank you!" Thank you!" He cried out as you continued to softly suck on the head of his dick while your hands worked the rest of him. His orgasm was heading straight for him once again and his breathing quickened as he looked down at you with widened eyes. Jisung begged you not to stop and you rewarded him by taking him all into your mouth over and over again.

"F-Fuck! Fuck! Shit...-" Curse words in different languages began to fly out of his lips as you took him free from your lips and allowed himself to pump.

"Cum for me Jisung," You giggled as you looked up at him, holding your chest out and sticking your tongue out wide enough so he could hit you with it. His cock twitched and throbbed in his hand as long bursts of cum shot out of him and landed all over our bare chest and lips. There was a lot, a lot more than there usually was when the two of you did something like this and you giggled. knowing it had something to do with him being edged so much.

"O-Oh." He moaned out as you began to pump his cock in your hand softly, milking him as you took the head into your mouth and sucked him until there was nothing left for him to give to you.

"You got me all messy baby. What do you say?" You quizzed as he fell down onto the bed, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Thank you," He whimpered as you kisses his chest softly,

"Good boy, want to come and shower with me?" Within seconds he was on his feet and rushing in the direction of the bathroom while you let out a small giggle.

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