#no but honestly what threw me body and soul over the edge was the person trying to nose boop my car with theirs gesturing that they want to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astaroth1357 · 4 years

Note

Hi can I request the boys reactions to coming back and seeing that MC has snucked into their beds

The Brothers Find the MC Asleep in Their Bed

This is that other bed request. Back to my fluffy content! Huzzah!! I was a fidgeting mess on that last one… If it wasn't in second person I probably would have never gotten through it… 🤦‍♀️😅 Amazing how distancing the pronoun "you" can be when you're writing: "Oh no, this ain't happening to me, it's gonna happen to you. I dunno what to tell ya." 🤷‍♀️ I give my props for this to one to my favorite jazz singers, Nicki Parrot, and her rendition of I Won't Last a Day Without You.

Intro:

If you're missing someone and, presumably, you have a fairly intimate relationship then something you can do is stay in their bed. Sure, your loved one’s body may not be next to yours but the familiarity can help soothe that aching heart… So when the brothers were away from the House for a few days, it wasn't totally unreasonable for the MC to sneak a night or two in their favorite demon's bed.

If only they had known said demon would come home early…

Lucifer

It was a looong trip for him. Lucifer only goes up to the human world for business reasons and usually he has to bring Mammon to keep an eye on him, which he also swears ages him by a century each time he does…

When he retired to his room that night he wasn't really looking to talk or interact with anyone, not his brothers and not even the MC. He just wanted to go to sleep…

He wasn't expecting to find his human curled up under his sheets, though. And without him there no less.

Had it been another day, he might have just woken them up and sent them away or slept somewhere else but that night, after the trip he had, he felt so… loved all of sudden...

His brothers never miss him when he leaves. They give him the usual welcoming rigmarole when he gets back, "Good to see you, how was the trip?" that kind of thing, but he can tell they're all disappointed that he's back to discipline them again…

But here was the MC, apparently wanting him back so much that they'd risk breaking into his room just to feel close to him again… It's honestly good he was the only conscious soul in the room because if anyone else had seen the look on his face, he'd have to start erasing some memories again.

He changed clothes quietly before getting into the bed himself, careful not to jostle them too much. Only once he was settled in, did he give them a tender kiss to their forehead and finally got a good night's sleep...

Mammon

Look, he never asks to be dragged along with Lucifer on his business trips! It's a pain in the ass for everyone involved so he was more than happy to be home...

So happy in fact, that he didn't think to check his bed before he went sailing into it face first…

When he didn't feel the cushion of his mattress below him, but what felt like muscle and bone, he screamed. Which caused the MC to shoot up from under his covers and scream right back at him.

The two dummies screamed at each other for about five seconds straight before it clicked that neither even knew what they were screaming about… 🙄

"MC?!? The hell are ya doin'?! This is my bed, ya know??"

Oh was he tickled pink when they told him they came there just 'cause they missed him so much… Of course they'd miss the Great Mammon! Anybody who got to spend that much time in his presence would eventually! And he had been missing them so much he could hardly see straight anyway...

"Geez, is that all? Well fine! You can stay the night, but only for tonight! … I mean, unless ya want to stay longer or somethin' crazy like that….. You want to, doncha?"

And that's how the MC ended up spending the next week in the arms of their first man… and getting a pretty good bruise on their shoulder too from Mammon's thick skull slamming into it.

Leviathan

He was coming back from a three-day convention and boy was he tired… There's only so much excitement an introvert can withstand for that long without shutting down completely...

His first clue that something was a little off was his door. It was unlocked. Since he was positive he locked it before he left, he was already on edge... Mammon was in there stealing his stuff again, wasn’t he??

He had his demon form already out when he threw the door open, expecting to have to chase out a thief, but instead he found the MC's arm sticking out of his bathtub-bed.

Cue an incredibly flustered Levi. Did the MC really want to sleep with him? A yucky otaku?? Did they miss him that much?? For a brief moment, he hit cloud nine and beyond.

Levi was frozen in his doorway for a good five minutes, too afraid to walk in and possibly disturb them, before he finally tiptoed to have a look in the tub.

…. He may or may not have snapped a picture when he saw them snuggled against his Ruri-chan body pillow… So what if that's a little creepy??? You're creepy!!

There wasn't really a good way for him to squeeze in with them so he settled for pulling his computer chair over and taking their outstretched hand in his own...

He stayed like that all night until the MC woke up to find him passed out next to them, head rolled back in the chair but still holding their hand with laced fingers...

Satan

He hates going to the human world with Lucifer, even though he acknowledges that he's better behaved than the others for it. That doesn't change the fact that he'd much rather be back in his room with a good book...

He just wasn't expecting the MC to share his sentiments so… identically?

After his trip to Paris with Lucifer, Satan dragged his bags back into his room and expected to at least get another hour of reading in before his mind finally caught up with his body… But to his surprise, his bed was already occupied.

The MC was half-under his covers with their head wedged into the corner of the wall above his pillows, sound asleep… A stray book sat by their hand, one of his favorites too judging by the cover.

He felt the warmth of a chuckle escape his chest… How many times had he woken up in that exact same position? It was almost like they missed him so badly they tried to be him for a while... It was all too cute for words…

He put aside getting some sleep just long enough to take care of his MC, gently moving their body back under the covers and setting the book onto one of the endless stacks that surrounded his bed.

Only once he had them placed into a more comfortable position did he change his clothes and take the spot in the bed next to them…

The MC woke up very much not how they fell asleep… but trading out a good book in their hand for a warm bookworm against their body wasn't a bad deal now, was it?

Asmodeus

He was on one of those long self-care retreats and though, yes, it was a good time he really needed a good nap after such a long trip… He was even considering shortening his nightly routine for once.

When he came into his room, he was ready to just faceplant into his pillows until he spied MC's head poking out from under his covers…

He squealed, but not out of anger or fright. No, no. He felt nothing but Pure. Joy. His heart was soaring and he could have sang, he was just that happy!

His human missed him so much that they just needed to wrap themselves up under his covers?? Well, of course they would wouldn't they? There's no good substitute for Asmo and he knows it.

His literal shriek made the MC shoot out of his bed and try to apologize but he just tackled them back down, wrapping his arms around them in a vice grip of adoration. He was not letting them back down now. It was cuddle time!

In truth, their sudden appearance shocked Asmo awake for about another hour, which he spent snuggled up to his MC and babbling about his trip. He did eventually lose steam though, falling asleep soundly with his head snuggled into the crook of their neck.

The lovey mood was dampened slightly when he woke up and realized he hadn't done any of his routine the night before, but since the MC was still resting in his arms he decided that, just this once, he didn't need to rush it...

Beelzebub

Beel's team had just come back from a long tournament trip and, for the first time ever, he could say that he was more tired than he was hungry…

Belphie was really happy to have his twin back, but this time he was kind of ignoring his brother's excitement as his mind zoned in on his bed… He almost didn't notice the MC was even in there until he pulled back the covers to climb in himself.

His poor sleep-deprived mind had to take a minute to catch up… This was his bed wasn't it...? 😰

"Beel? Is that MC?" "... I think so?" "Why are they in your bed?" "I don't know… Maybe they just wanted to sleep here?" "... Uh-huh. Hey, Beel, I know you're tired. How about you just take my bed instead since it's free? I'll take yours tonight."

Since he was so exhausted, Beel almost considered the offer until he noticed the resentful pout on Belphie's face... Oh. Right. The MC probably wanted to sleep with him. That meant they must have missed him… That thought alone gave Beel a warm, fuzzy feeling like he'd just taken a giant gulp of hot cocoa and he just couldn't help his groggy smile.

"No… This is fine." "But-" "I don't mind, Belphie. Goodnight."

He didn't give his jealous twin any more room to argue before he climbed into bed next to the MC, nestling them close to his chest as if he was welcoming them home instead. And in his last moments of consciousness, Beel promised himself that they'd wake up just like this too…

Belphegor

Belphie tends to hate trips about as much as Levi, especially ones where Beel or the MC can't come along... Too much hassle and all his brothers make so much noise…

When he finally got back from the trip Lucifer dragged him into, he only had one thing on his mind. Sleep. His bed was calling to him, that's where he needed to be… and the MC too, apparently?

He was honestly a little caught off guard to find the MC in his bed... The attic bed? Sure. That was their cuddle space and it was practically sacred ground at that point. But the bed in the room he shared with Beel...? They didn't stay there very often…

Which meant they weren't in his bed just because they wanted to sleep. They wanted him… Had they been awake he might have had something smug to say, but without any audience to save face to he just felt somewhat honored…

There wasn't a day that went by where Belphie didn't regret the things he'd done to them, even during the quiet moments where they assured him that they'd forgiven him for it... Seeing them there in his actual bed proved something, they chose him. No one else.

He didn't think twice about crawling under there next to them, he even got into his usual position by their side on instinct. But this time, for a minute or two, he just watched their sleeping form peacefully and counted himself lucky to even be there…

When the MC woke up to Belphegor wrapped around them, an adoring smile nuzzled into their neck, and they just had to wonder if the mere act of sleeping alone was all they’d ever need to summon their demon home...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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sslow-dancer · 3 years

Note

hi! can i request a one shot with polnareff x reader but he’s still stuck as the turtle but a twist like the princess and the frog? the reader kisses the turtle and he comes back to being his old (part 3) self because the reader is the one? lots of fluff plzzz? ty ;w;

A/N: Okay but this idea is so unbelievably cute?! I apologize for taking forever to get it done. I went a bit deep and overboard with the storyline on a request that is so simple and I’m pretty sure this is my longest one up to date actually BUT- it’s whatever. There’s plenty of fluff near the end, I promise. I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it too!! 🤍

(If this flops, I will be so sad omg)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re The One, My Love.” (Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse and depression

tags: gender-neutral, gender-inclusive, jean pierre polnareff x reader, turtle pol, magical, kiss, twist, slight angst, sfw, fluff

Description: One day after having to escort Polnareff as orders from your boss, you begin to grow quite fond of him. During your usual hangouts, you jokingly offer to kiss him as a way to recreate one of your favorite fairytales.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggle as Jean pulls you into a kiss, you feel him smile as he holds your face gently. You’re happy to see the man you love not be as serious and hurt as he was when you first met him. Your expression reminiscent of the memories shared between you before this moment.

~A Year Before~

Your personal servant had drawn the curtains. Your eyes fluttered open, body awaken by the bright sunlight shining from your windows and murmurs outside your bedroom. You groaned in frustration as you threw a pillow at him, he managed to catch it and place it back by your bed frame. You huffed,

“Didn’t boss say I have the week off? I’m allowed to sleep in.” you stated blankly, remembering how you had the strong urge to strangle him for ruining your slumber. He shook his head as he sat by the edge of your bed and pointed at the clock that stood on top of your nightstand. You distinctly remember the screen marked 7:25AM exactly. You sighed as you thought you could’ve at least slept in by 10. You sat up and criss crossed your legs and played with the lose strings of your blanket as he replied.

“Technically you do, but today is last minute and different. Sr. Giovanna wants you to escort out a close individual he works with today by 8.”

Frustrated, you plopped your hands down onto your lap and rolled your eyes as you said back,

“Not to be bratty but...can’t he just do that himself or get one of you to do it?” you raised your pointers and middle fingers to create air quotations “This individual must be pretty important if not even the boss can take care of it.”

Your servant shut his eyes and sighed. After what you had just told him, deep down you felt bad about how much he had to deal with your bull on a daily basis- not to mention your constant grumbling in the morning whether he woke you or not. Either way, you were pretty grumpy most mornings. He shook his head again.

“It’s not that either. Sr. Giovanna could easily lead him out but he’s currently finishing business with other people in the country. Sr. Mista is with him as well so you’re the only one we have present. They both must attend all meetings, they are not to miss one.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question. What’s so important about him or her or whatever the hell they go by?”

“I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.” He said finally as he patted your bed as a way to non-verbally tell you to get ready.

You huffed when he exited the room, plopping your back down hard into the foamy mattress. You roughly grabbed at the pillow you had thrown earlier and placed it over your face, you screamed into it for a good 10 seconds.

Looking back, were you being a little too dramatic? Yes, sure- of course. It’d make anyone cringe if they were to had witnessed it though you didn’t really mind. You were still maturing anyway. You were still getting used to the life Giorno Giovanna and Guido Mista had offered and gladly given to you.

Before meeting your boss Giovanna and his right hand man Mista, you had been living life miserably at home. Though before anyone asks, no: your parents were not abusive, no: your siblings weren’t either, no: nor were your friends or teachers. You had just become very distressed with the life you were leading on. You didn’t like the person you were and were expected to become. Anxiety took over rather unexpectedly. So what did you do when you had enough? You moved on to drugs.

You were surprised to find out how easy it was for a person in their late teens to gain access towards those terrible substances. But none the less, you later learned your dealer was from the mafia known as “Passione.”

Was it dangerous for you to have figured out that information? Yes. However, you remained cautious and never told a soul...until one day you bumped into the now late capo, Bruno Bucciarati.

You were walking down your local dealing alleyway, hands in pockets and school bag still in sight. You usually dealt after school as many adults were distracted by the kids that filled up the streets. Thus making them barely notice the illegal activity going on as a large number of students would walk down alleyways as a shortcut to their home. You were swift in paying back and receiving your desired substances anyway.

All of a sudden you heard a distant call, a call out of your name. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to look at the direction from where the call was coming from, that’s when you saw him. He stood a few feet from you.

“I’m glad I was able to find you...my name is Bruno Bucciarati. Your parents sent me to look for you, they’ve mentioned to me that you’ve been coming home late from school lately.”

You only shrugged and completely ignored his claim. You began walking away but were stopped again when he said,

“Leaky eyed Luca deals with you, doesn’t he?”

You kept your gaze forward and your back turned away from Bruno. Turning your head slightly over your shoulder, you mumbled,

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

Without having to look at him, you knew he had tilted his head when he answered.

“That depends. If you answer honestly, no trouble will occur. I’ll remain calm with you, that is a promise.”

You blinked, sighing as you kicked at the small pebbles near your feet, staring at your shoes as you thought about what he said.

You had been dealing with Luca and you knew that his business was risky. Though you didn’t care. You felt that you needed to get the drugs you wanted pronto and Luca was the only one who would give them to you quickly. You shook your head, deciding to give up as you didn’t want anyone to notice you both speaking. You turned to face him and quietly replied,

“Yes, he deals with me. He’s the provider, I’m the receiver.”

Bruno smiled, satisfied with your answer.

He followed up with informing you that Luca had been killed at a local airport and was told to investigate his death. He didn’t provide too many details as to the cause of his death but you didn’t feel like asking anyway. Bruno admitted he came to speak to you as hours prior one of your parents really did come to speak to him about your behavior. After connecting some dots, he suspected you had something to do with Luca’s death as you were not attending school and were gone for most of the day. Not to mention, your teachers had called your parents that day as well.

Luckily, he was able to clear you out as a suspect as you cooperated with him and weren’t sweaty or completely jittery. He also gave you a little talk about using drugs. He promised he wouldn’t tell your parents that you got yourself involved in that abusive life if you promised to not buy more again.

You truly felt at the time that he was the only one who understood and cared for you in just the short time you met him. Your eyes watered as you complied with Bruno, promising to do what he suggested. A promise you have held onto forever.

After some investigating of your own, you found out that it was your future boss that killed Luca. You were rather impressed than angry that he was able to kill him. You honestly believed Luca would never be caught.

Back to the day you had to escort this individual- after some more complaining and grumpy remarks towards everyone in the household, you were finally ready to meet them. Your personal servant led you to the front door. He made sure to quietly remind you to be polite.

Your attention turned to another servant walking down the stairs towards your direction. A pillow in hand with a piece of cloth covering whatever was on top it. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, laughing as you sarcastically remarked,

“Is this some kind of joke? It’s not April, is it?”

“No, but I guess this household treating me with the upmost respect is.”

Your eyes widen. ‘Did that thing under the cloth just speak?” you asked yourself.

The servant removed the cloth and there revealed a turtle. A turtle with a key-shaped hole embedded on its shell. You almost assumed that the turtle smirked at you when he added,

“I know, don’t be too surprised. I plan to get out of this animal once my soul decides to give up. I haven’t always looked like this, ya know.”

Your mouth gaped open as to say something, but you quickly shut it as you didn’t know how to reply. He chuckled,

“Hand me over to them, we’ll talk more when we get to my destination.”

You hesitantly took the pillow from the servant’s hands and remained in shock as you walked out the door. You were careful not to drop him as you got down to the front gates. Gulping as you asked,

“So...my servant wasn’t that specific on me having to leave you in the car or actually riding with you. It’s kind of my fault as I don’t like to listen and talk in the morning...”

You nervously laughed as he looked up to you. He replied,

“It’s quite alright. I was told you have to ride with me. But don’t worry, you won’t have to stay for long. It’s only around a 10 minute ride.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You sat behind the passenger seat and placed the pillow in the middle, right next to your side.

The ride was relatively quiet, you looked out the window as you kept a fist under your chin. Your expression showed that of concern. You were too nervous to say anything. Even though he had joked back earlier, you were afraid he didn’t like you as his voice stayed stern throughout your small talk. You were afraid you had offended him in some way.

Your mood changed when the driver alerted that you had arrived. You thanked him as he opened the door for you, your hands grasped the pillow tightly so the talking turtle wouldn’t fall. You asked him with a small voice.

“Is there anywhere you’d like for me to set you?”

“Yes... put me on top of that balcony over there. I want to look at the lake.”

“Of course.”

You did as he said and sat him on the balcony. Your eyes gleamed when you caught sight of the glimmering water and greenery of the setting. You’ve always known that Italy is one of the most beautiful places in the world but at that time you had forgotten and were fascinated all over again. Like when a child sees a playground for the first time.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, you nodded.

“Yes, it really is. It’s no wonder you asked me set you on here.”

“Yes... I wanted to look at one more beautiful sight before I go. Like I said earlier, my soul is no longer fit to be here, so I might as well admire my surroundings for now.”

Your mind quickly became curious after he said that. You wanted to know more behind what he meant. You weren’t going back to that car until you got answers. So to make things easy, you started off with asking his name.

“If you don’t mind... would you like to tell me your name?”

“It’s Jean. Jean Pierre Polnareff.”

‘So he’s French.’ you remember thinking, his accent wasn’t too thick but you assumed and your assumption was right. After that, you went on to tell him your name and your experiences before meeting boss Giorno Giovanna. He shared the same with you.

You talked for so long in fact that you paid off the driver of your assigned car to go back and finish his shift early, promising them that you’ll find a ride later yourself.

You ended off the chatty night with placing Jean under a nearby bench and waving at him. You were saddened but Jean said he enjoyed your company so much that he’ll try to stay for longer and that you’re welcome to come him visit him everyday.

And so you did.

For months you came by to talk to him. You were happy to see that his soul wasn’t giving up yet- you knew you would cry if it were to one day. You had come to realize that you love him but you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you. You had only seen his face once- that was the day he decided to show you the physical embodiment of his soul.

You thought (and still think) he was so beautiful. The missing of bottom limbs and blindness in one eye did not bother you at all. His white-silver hair, style and personality is what did it for you. What it did to make you fall in love with his vanity and him. Just him. Jean himself.

~A Year Later~

It’s been a year now and as per usual, you spent half your days speaking to Jean by that same lake you were ordered to drive him to.

Boss Giovanna and Mista have noticed how fast you are in missions since then. They appreciate that you get things done but they still remain curious as to why you’re more happy and less grumpy than you were before. Though they don’t bother to ask, as they’re kind and don’t want to ruin your pure joy.

Today isn’t particularly different. All you had done earlier in the day was speak to a few citizens in town and dealt with giving details to your boss about a certain drug epidemic at a school. Nothing too out of the ordinary, a situation like this occurred at your old school too years back. Your duties were basically done once you learned information got to police.

You drive down to the park where the lake is at, smiling when you see a familiar small green circle on the balcony, looking over the glimmering waters. You park in the nearest lot and lock your car after getting out. You excitedly run over to Jean and smile when he turns his little head to greet you.

“I’m glad you’ve come again.” he says with a smile.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” you reply in a genuine tone.

You go on to talk about random topics and subjects as you always do. The conversation moving onto favorite pieces of literature and genres.

You roll your eyes in embarrassment as you tell him your most favorite one- one that is a fairytale and goes by the name of “The Frog Prince.”

“Well... it’s very fem of me but I really enjoy fairytales. Especially the ones from the Grimm brothers. My favorite is actually “The Frog Prince”

You place your elbow on the rail and use a hand to cover your burning cheek. Hoping that the redness rushing to your face won’t be noticed by Jean and that the sunset covers it up. Jean only laughs and hopes to comfort you when he says,

“Oh, that’s fine. Who cares if it’s feminine? They’re very well written stories and people shouldn’t be ashamed for what they like. I admire that your favorite genre is fairytale, you don’t hear people say that as often, you know?”

His words do comfort you and you thank him for that. He welcomes you and you feel like you’re actually looking into his sapphire eyes. The ones you fell in love with so long ago. You speak up before you’re even able to fully think.

“Say, the frog prince and the princess kissing, huh? Why don’t we kiss and see if it turns you back?”

Shit.

‘Did I really just ask that?’ you ask yourself ‘What the actual hell is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t see why not...”

“Huh?”

You’re stunned. You thought he would get offended for spurting out such a stupid thing. Of course your request won’t work- that shit is from a story book. It’s pure fiction. This is real life.

He’s a turtle now and you’re a human. You can’t and you won’t kiss him. You raise your hands up in defense.

“Hey, no! No need to play along after saying something so stupid to make me feel better. I just blurted that out I’m so sorry-“

“No, it’s okay. And I’m not playing along, I’m being serious. Go ahead. I’ve grown to like you a lot, a small kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

This answer is not what you expected. You nervously fiddle with your fingers as you look around. You sigh as you give in.

“Fine. I like you a lot too and I’ll do it. Let me just-“

You lift up the top half of Jean, his front turtle legs up in the air and his little face staring up at you. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, you slowly lean in and- kiss✨

The turtle falls out of your grasp. You stop puckering your lips and open your eyes. In a panicked state, you frantically look over the balcony and both sides of you to find him. You look forward and gasp. You grab at the railings to hold you steady.

There sits a groaning man on his knees. He rubs at his neck as he silently curses to himself, blinking fast and harshly as he tries to understand what’s going on around him. It’s dark now but the moon shines bright enough for you to get a better glimpse of him. You furrow your eyebrows as you slowly recognize who he is- Jean.

He has that same white-silver hair, sapphire eyes, big stature though the only difference is no eye glass in sight and his “legs” aren’t made out of metal.. they’re completely real. Flesh and all and you know that blood flows right through them like the rest of his body.

“J-Jean?” you whisper.

The man doesn’t hear you. All he does is groan and cross his legs in front of him. He stretches his arms and looks over any possible injuries on him.

“Jean.” you say again, louder this time.

He finally looks up at you. And there they are, those sapphire eyes you love so much. That face you’ve grown to be so fond off. His expression more than surprised. Though that expression quickly changes and softens- his eyes crease and a small smile appears. He says your name. And you tear up after he does.

He attempts to get up but his legs give up on him. You sprint to his side before he falls, letting him use your shoulders as support. He blushes.

“I’m sorry... I haven’t had real legs in years. Apparently I forgot how to use them...”

His voice is softer than before, the sternness isn’t there. He sounds younger almost. You giggle, as you use a hand to wipe at the tears of your eyes.

“Okay, I think I can stand now. Let go of me so I can look at you fully.”

You do as he says and as you watch him wobble, you reach out to help again but he shakes his head, waving your hands off as he’s able to maintain balance. You grin proudly when he does.

Jean turns to face you, he clasps your hands together and brings them up to his lips. You blush as he proceeds to hold them over his heart. He looks at you with pure love in his eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. What you suggested was silly but it worked.”

“Yes, you’re welcome...” you say softly, looking down. He makes you look up again.

“You’re the one, my love. You always have been and always will be. My feelings for you started when we first met, I meant what I said. I have grown to like you a lot though it’s more than “like”- it’s love. And I’m so happy to know you feel the same way.”

You tear up at this and hug him. He hugs you back and you can’t believe that he does.

The turtle is no more and you have your true love back to human form.

He raises your chin up with his thumb and pointer, he kisses you and you kiss him back. The kiss long and meaningful.

You’re happy to know that the man you love, loves you too.

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realcube · 3 years

Text

HQ BOYS REACT TO YOU FAKE CRYING

characters ♡ yaku, kenma, kayegama & iwaizumi

content warning ♡ fake crying, mentions of murder, hurt/comfort, fluff & timeskip! iwaizumi (no mature themes, just domesticity)

credit ♡ thank you to 🍦anon for this request

morinosuke yaku

♡ why did you need to need to practise in the bedroom?? in his bedroom, no less

♡ your show was quickly approaching and you recalled the scene where you were to burst out into tears on stage, and you hadn’t yet rehearsed how you were going to do that

♡ honestly, you were under the assumtion that yaku would have no problem with you practising while in his bedroom bc he has ran lines with you in the past and this was hardly any different

♡ so sat, thinking about the most horrible, morbid, grotesque things you possible could, all while keeping your eyes wide open and not blinking so soon enough, the tears started rolling

♡ proud of yourself, you smirked before burying your face into your hands; now to add sobs!

♡ it started out with mere snivels but then as you got more confident, it built up to full on bawls which were loud enough to gain yaku’s attention from the kitchen

♡ he was quick to rush over to his bedroom, his soul audibly leaving his body when he saw your upset weeping figure on the bed

♡ he basically pounced on you and engulfed you with his embrace, ‘dear! what’s wrong? are you alright? who hurt you?!’ the questions were fast falling off his tongue as cradled your head, leaving no room for you to speak without being muffled by his chest or arms

♡ and when he noticed that you were trying to speak, he simply hushed you, ‘shh! it’s okay, dearest.’ and continued to whisper ‘comforting’ stuff like that in your ear

♡ he thought he was helping but really he was just preventing you from getting you point across

♡ eventually, you managed to escape his steel grip and gasp, ‘yaku! i’m fine! look — no tears!” you gestured to you damp cheek, “i was just practising for my role! i’m not actually sad. though, it’s cute that you care so mu--”

♡ as soon as yaku heard the word ‘practising’ he immediately recalled how you mention you have a sad scene where you need to cry and his natural reflex was to lean backwards, grab a massive teddy bear that sat behind him which he had won at a carnival for you but you insisted that he keep it bc you didn’t want to carry it home

♡ ...and he threw it straight at you, causing you to fall backwards and burst out laughing at how you were currently being straddled by a big teddy bear

♡ ‘(y/n)! i thought you were hurt! you can’t just fake cry without telling me first- i was so worried! like i thought it was real and--’ this went on for an elongated amount of time, yaku ranting while you added a faint ‘sorry!’ whenever you saw the opportunity

♡ eventually, he stopped only to take a deep breath, visibly calming doing as his chest heaved, ‘alright. what’s done is done; it’s fine. you worried me though, (y/n). i thought you were being for real, what then?’

♡ you nodded, smiling at his softened expression as your lips twisted into a smirk at his final comment. cocking a brow, you purred, ‘so...you think i’m a good actor? tha--’

♡ pow! another plushie to the face! K.O!

kenma kuzome

♡ as a joke, you dabbed water under your eyes a few times so you could send your friend a snap of you ‘crying’ and ofc kenma had to walk in at exactly the wrong time

♡ you were over at his house, chilling on his couch while he was upstairs talking to kuroo over the phone— he said he’d only be a moment but almost half an hour had passed and he still showed no sign of coming back downstairs, though you couldn’t blame him as kuroo does have a tendency to be overly descriptive when spilling tea

♡ anyway, as soon as you had sent your snap, you placed your phone down and scanned the room in search of some tissues to wipe you eyes with, when kenma barged in

♡ ‘hey, (y/n). i’m sorry that took so lo--’ when his gaze shifted from his phone onto you, sitting on the couch with tears streaming down your cheeks, he immediately cut himself off

♡ at first, you were frozen, simply staring at each other; as if he had just walked in on you committing a violent act of homicide in his living room

♡ honestly you were too stunned to move at first but if you could, you’d probably say something along the lines of ‘this isn’t what it looks like’ but before you could even open your mouth, kenma edged towards you until he was able to outstretch his arms and wrap you in his warm embrace

♡ with your cheek pressed against his warm hoodie, basking in an uncommon blissful silence, you postponed your explanation until you were finished enjoyed how his nimble fingers caressed your back

♡ you hummed, your lips curling a smile at how comfortable you felt in his arms and how nice his hoodie smelt, since it usually reeked of an unholy mixture of body spray and monster energy

♡ he planted a kiss upon your head, murmuring into your hair, ‘baby, what’s wrong?’

♡ you were quick to swipe away your ‘tears’ with the back of your hand, ‘i’m fine, don’t worry.” you chirped, beaming at him to reinforce this point, ‘it’s just water, for a silly video i sent to my friends.’

♡ kenma blinked rapidly, staring down at your seemingly genuine smile

♡ honestly, you expected him to tease you or be irritated that you made him reveal a hidden soft side of himself for no reason, since he’s usually quite private with his emotions

♡ but instead, the corners of his lips just lifted into a slight smile as pushed your head back against his chest, then resting his head upon yours, ‘oh, that’s cool.’ he breathed, his warm, calming voice causing your eyelids to become heavy — that and the fact you had went on a run not too long ago

♡ kenma felt your eyes flutter shut against his chest so he slowly leaned backwards, holding you against his hoodie as he laid down, allowing himself to doze off with you snuggled up on his heaving torso

hajime iwaizumi

♡ you were making iwaizumi dinner, cutting onions and cooking curry

♡ so it was not surprising when tears started brimmed at your eyes, eventually slipping from your lashline and trickling down the soft skin of your cheeks, leaving you to blink rapidly to lubricate your burning eyes

♡ iwaizumi had just came out the shower, he had dried off but when he came downstairs and peered into the kitchen, he was wearing just a towel which was draped around his hips, ‘mm, something smells good. whatcha cookin’, baby?’

♡ he didn’t plan on staying downstairs for long, which is why he didn’t throw on a shirt; all he wanted to do was get to the bottom of what that magnificent aroma was that he smelled from upstairs, then once he figured it out, he’d go back upstairs, get changed, then head back down for dinner

♡ but his plan was cut short when he noticed crystalline tears pouring from your red, puffy eyes

♡ without thinking or taking into consideration why your eyes are red, his immediate reaction was to dash over to your side and slip his arms around your waist, puling you in so that one of your hands had no choice but to rest on his back while the other continued to stir the pot

♡ noticing that your watery eyes were still fixated on the curry, he took your chin inbtween his fingers and forced you to cook at him, ‘why’s my angel crying? hm?’ he cooed, features painted with genuine worry and concern

♡ you lifted a brow, stifling a chuckle at how silly he was being, ‘what do you mean?’

♡ before you could process anything else, iwaizumi bought you in for a passionate kiss with the his hand pressing against the small of your back, only pulling away so he could rest his head on your shoulder and hum into your ear, ‘you can tell me anything, angel, so what’s on your mind?’

♡ you bottom lip quivered at his intimate action — you might just start crying for real

♡ biting your bottom lip, you resisted your tears and forced out a laugh, ‘what’s on my mind? well,’ you started, momentarily letting go of the ladle so you could hug back, ‘i have to make dinner for my himbo husband, but the onions and spices are burning my eyes. pray for me, iwa.’

♡ it took him a moment to register what you just said. he’d been in the kitchen many times so by now he was basically immune to the way onions and spices affect the eyes, so he completely forgot that stuff like that happens. he honestly, wholeheartedly thought that you were crying real tears of sadness while making dinner

♡ he impulsively pushed you away, crossing his arms over his chest and his initial kind expression lowering into a scowl, ‘who are you calling a himbo?! i just forgot that some people have weak-ass eyes. bye.’ he spat, clearly trying his best not to laugh as he stormed off to his room, keeping a firm grip on his towel the whole time

♡ don’t worry, though. he was back ten minutes later — fully clothed — to eat dinner with you :))

♡ but don’t mention it ever again or else he’ll blush and tell you it ever happened

tobio kageyama

♡ you were scrolling on your fyp and found a video of a person explaining how to cry on command and you didn’t believe it’d actually work so you tried it

♡ as it turns out, it does work and now you are sitting on your bed with tear stained cheeks and a dry throat, completely zoned out until kageyama came marching into your bedroom

♡ it was in that moment that you recalled that you had invited him over for a movie night and you had left your front door unlocked for him, hence he must’ve invited himself in

♡ ‘sorry i’m late, but i brought doritos.’ he spun on heels after closing the door, doritos in hand but not for long because as soon as he noticed your cheek glistening the lamplight, he instantly dropped them to rush over to you

♡ ‘eh? (y/n)? are you crying?’ he asked with a harsh voice, which wouldn’t help if you really were crying. instinctively, he reached out for your hand and began pressing kisses to the back of it

♡ he wasn’t really too sure on what exactly he could do or say to comfort you, so he recollected on the time you tried to cheer him up after he lost a big game. you lay beside him on his bed, humming a distant tune that matched the one playing in his ear from his earbuds. one hand threading through his hair while the other cupped his cheek so you could press occasional, soft kisses on his cheek while he set to himself. it was calming, and it definitely worked in making him feel better. usually, it’d take him months to recover after a devastating loss like that, but with you by his side and giving him support, he was back to his normal self in a couple weeks

♡ well, as normal as it gets for kageyama

♡ you gently shook your head, admiring his adorable actions and allowing his to continue as you used your spare hand to wipe away your artificial tears

♡ ‘oh, sweetie, i love you so much.’ you mused, thinking up a way to start your story without sounding foolish

♡ but perhaps you shouldn’t have began your explanation with a term of endearment as his impulse with to promptly throw his arms around you, holding onto your torso tightly

♡ you were taken back for moment, wheezing slightly as kageyama squeezed the air out of you but finally able to speak once he relaxed his arms, ‘tobio! nothing’s wrong, don’t worry. i was just testing to see if i could fake cry or not. i’m not actually crying.’

♡ kageyama’s eyes widened and he paled

♡ you weren’t actually in need of comfort? then why did he just get all soft? for nothing?

♡ ‘no.’ was his simple response which he punctuated with another kiss on the back of your hand

♡ you couldn’t help but giggle, taking advantage of this opperuntiy to reach out and ruffle his hair, ‘yes. i’m seriously okay. i’m happy, actually, because i get to spend my evening watching movies with you!’

♡ surprisngly, he didn’t glare at you for messing up his hair — since it was already untidy — and just took a seat beside you, keeping ahold of your hand as if it was a fragile gem, ‘i don’t believe you.’

♡ you laughed, realising that he was clearly making excuses for openly showing affection and being soft so you just let him, hopping to your feet and tugging your hand away from him so you could grab the doritos he dropped, ‘whatever you say, tobio.’

♡ he pouted but it was only brief as he was soon able to take your hand once more, ‘yeah..’ he grunted, averting his eyes so you didn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks, ‘whatever, just put on the stupid movie...stupid (y/n)...i love you..’

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

Text

you’re my living proof my love is alive

for @eddiediaz HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY <33

read on ao3

“Did you ever think we’d get here?”

Eddie opens his eyes, the shade of the tree they’re under saving him from an assault of sunlight. He’d been dozing off and on, lulled by the warm day and the soft breeze and Buck’s fingers raking through his hair where his head rested on his lap. But something about Buck’s voice — not a sadness, not an edge, but something — wakes him up fully, and he rolls onto his back to look up at Buck’s face. He follows where Buck’s eyes have landed — on their family, spread out around them, absorbed in their own conversations while kids flit in and around them like over excited butterflies. He’s looking at them wistfully and in some sort of awe, and Eddie waits for him to elaborate.

“To the park?” he asks slowly when it looks like an explanation isn’t coming. “It’s like a 10 minute drive from our house.”

Buck tugs his ear, fighting and losing to the smile spreading on his face. “No, asshole. I mean all of this. Our family. You and me. Did you ever imagine we’d get a life like this?”

The breeze seems to blow a little cooler as Eddie takes that in, because honestly? No. All of this, the joy that he’s found here, is brighter and better than anything he ever let himself dream about.

And it’s not that he never thought he’d be happy or filled with some kind of lightness. It just wasn’t a priority — not when he had a team to lead or a marriage to try and fail to fix or a kid to take care of on his own. Everything and everyone else came first because those were things he could handle, tangible things with some kind of concrete solutions, the direct opposite of the amorphous, unreachable discomfort that always seemed to sit right at the base of his skull. And there were moments of joy, especially with Christopher — his smile, his laugh, the way he lit up at any opportunity to learn something new. Those were good moments, great moments, and Eddie treasured all of them, locking them up tight in his heart because they were sometimes the only things that got him through the day.

But still. No matter what, at the end of the day, he’d find himself in bed, surrounded by silence, fighting off the aching loneliness that grew stronger as the sun went down. Only then would he let himself indulge — he’d imagine a dip in the mattress next to him, warm skin begging for his touch, craving that feeling of being wanted by someone else despite the demons and nightmares that still haunted him.

He doesn’t really know if it made the loneliness better or worse.

Moving to LA helped — a fresh start for both of them, more opportunities, no one hovering over his every move waiting to swoop in the minute he made a mistake. He felt lighter, excited even, like maybe now things would actually turn around for him, like maybe he was ready to fill that space that sat in his heart. Maybe Shannon coming back was a sign that she was supposed to fill it the whole time, just like he thought when they were 19.

But then she left, permanently, just as quickly as she came, and suddenly he wasn’t sure of anything his heart or soul was telling him anymore.

So he threw himself back into what he knew best — being there for everyone else. Whether at work or with Chris, his focus was solely on the outside, ignoring any pangs of longing or indulgences because they didn’t matter. A person could only survive so many broken hearts in their lives, and he’s certain that watching the life fade out of Shannon’s eyes with no way of stopping it was the last one he’d be able to handle. It wasn’t a waste, this focusing on other people, and he wasn’t unhappy — how could he be when he had the best kid, the best friend, the best family that he’d cobbled together for himself, that had saved him time and again without even knowing it?

The loneliness lingered, though. It wrestled with the fear he felt so hard sometimes it blew the breath right out of his lungs. He thought he did an okay job of hiding it until Bobby sat him down and told him it was okay to move on, that it was okay to want to let someone in, to not carry the burdens on his own anymore. And he knew that, rationally, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that in the moments when his resolve cracked, his indulgences were no longer faceless. They had broad shoulders and strong arms, a halo of curls and eyes so blue they put the ocean to shame.

The problem was that this person was real and solid, an unshakeable presence in his and Chris’ world who smoothed out creases and stitched up tears in a way that was helpful, not in a way that made Eddie feel guilty for letting things get creased in the first place.

The problem was that the person his stupid, lonely heart had let in, without his consent, without him even noticing, was the person he knew would shatter his heart into a billion, unrepairable pieces if he ever lost him.

So he settled instead.

He found someone who was nice and low maintenance and good with Chris and it was enough. Or almost enough. Or as close to enough as he felt he deserved.

He feels another tug at his ear. “Did I lose you? Pretty sure your eyes just glazed over for like two minutes.”

Nothing he does gets past Buck, that’s for sure, and the knowledge of that warms him better than the sunshine. He reaches up and threads their fingers together, kissing the back of Buck’s hand before resting both on his chest, over his heart. He sighs, eyes slipping closed again. “Sorry. Zoned out for a second.”

“And forgot my question,” Buck says, squeezing his hand. “So did you? Imagine this? Or something like it, I guess.”

He’s better with words than he used to be, can be straightforward with his feelings without breaking out into a cold sweat. But still, these words stick, because years and countless therapy sessions later, he knows exactly how deep the darkness went back then, and he hates thinking about it. Hates remembering the full body ache of loneliness, how dull and bleak it made everything seem.

But also, he can’t — won’t — lie to Buck, and he’s warm enough now, surrounded by sunlight and laughter and Buck’s hand on his chest, that he’s not worried about being pulled under again.

“No,” he finally says. “I didn’t let myself think about anything like this for a really long time. But when I finally did, it was never as good as the real thing.”

Buck hums but doesn’t say anything else. He traces carefully over Eddie’s knuckles and the back of his hand, and Eddie almost falls asleep again.

“What changed your mind?” Eddie opens his eyes and Buck’s looking down at him now, an intense curiosity in his eyes, like he was just cycling through everything he knows about Eddie trying to figure out what made him believe in love again.

Knowing Buck, he probably was.

Eddie’s happy to save him the trouble. “I got shot,” he says simply, and Buck’s hand finally stills. Eddie reaches up, cupping Buck’s cheek, relishing in the way he automatically leans into his palm.

“I got shot,” he says again, “and you saved me, in every way you possibly could.”

It’s true — it wasn’t the first time a bullet had found a path through him, or even the first time he’d seen his life flash before his eyes. But as he lay there in the street, hot asphalt underneath him, weaker by the second, the only things running through his head were Chris and Buck and ChrisandBuck, and his only regret was that Buck didn’t know — about his guardianship of Chris, about how he made Eddie feel something like hopeful for the first time in years, any of it.

As his vision blacked out, Buck’s face streaked with blood and panic was the last thing he saw, and he vowed to make sure Buck knew everything if he made it out of this.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy.

After he woke up, with Buck’s name on his lips but Ana’s hand in his, everything became a waiting game.

He waited for Buck to show up at the hospital, out of breath but still so dazzling, his very presence making Eddie feel like he could run a marathon right then.

He waited for them to finally be alone so they could talk, but only got through telling him about the guardianship before Buck got a text from Taylor that made him smile so softly the rest of Eddie’s speech died in his throat.

He waited to break it off with Ana long enough that he didn’t seem like a jackass, waited as Buck and Taylor flew higher and higher before crashing, waited for days and weeks and months, waited, waited, waited.

But it didn’t hurt. All that time, it wasn’t excruciating, it didn't feel like a waste, because he knew from the minute he woke up that he was waiting for something. He could feel the anticipation burning up inside him, and it wasn’t going to be for nothing this time.

Finally, finally, just as naturally as they had fallen into each other’s lives the first time, they fell together again — in the dim light of Eddie’s kitchen, empty beer bottles and raw, unfiltered words between them, reliving the day they hadn’t been able to talk to each other about for the past nine months. Eddie’s hands shook and Buck took them in his and Eddie knew this was his moment.

He looked Buck dead in the eye and said, “You’re the reason I’m sitting here right now, and I’m in love with you.”

The evening air crackled in the silence, and neither of them moved. Eddie was pretty sure even his blood had stopped flowing as he waited, until suddenly everything snapped.

Suddenly they were both leaning in, suddenly they were kissing and whispering I love yous soft and desperate across each other’s skin.

Suddenly everything began.

He shakes his head a bit as he comes back to the present. Buck doesn’t say anything this time, just smiles and kisses the center of Eddie’s palm where it’s still resting on his cheek, tangles their fingers together again before placing them back on Eddie’s chest.

“You saved me too, you know,” Buck says quietly. “I wasn’t the one who got shot, but still, you did. You always do.”

“Always will,” Eddie says, because it’s true, and the easiest promise he’s ever made. Buck is his hope, his light in the dark, every other cheesy cliche, and Eddie will work for the rest of his life to make sure Buck feels safe and loved. It’s the least he could do for all that Buck has given him.

They lapse back into quiet, enjoying the sounds of the park and their family, and Eddie feels something he's been too afraid to name until now, a holdout from years of guarding himself.

He’s happy. Truly, with no caveats or strings attached, unbelievably happy.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #IT'S MY WIFE'S BDAY ALL THE EDDIE EMOTIONS FOR HER #ficcery

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sergeantxrogers · 3 years

Text

| confused all the time |

Summary: Bucky’s back, and Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (post CA:TWS)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, violence, slight TW for physical abuse (but not really), just a shit ton of crying because apparently I can’t have a fic without some hurt/comfort

__________________________________

"It was him, I just know it. I would bet my life on it."

Steve ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time, pacing the floor of your shared bedroom.

You sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed and frowning. You were worried for him, you really were. Of course, you trusted Steve, with your life practically, and you believed him, but seeing him in this state made you upset.

Apparently, seeing his best friend after decades of thinking he was dead hadn't affected him very positively. There's also the small additional fact that he, the aforementioned best friend, had no idea who Steve was. After finding him on the river bank, last seeing him falling through the sky along with the rubble into the water, lids heavy and barely breathing, soaking wet and cold, it had taken you several days to bring him out of the state of shock he was in.

He had kept insisting it was Bucky who had dragged him out of the water; kept insisting that he saw the hesitation in his eyes before he threw the final punch; kept insisting he had recognized him. You pulled him through every claim with silent nods and the occasional "I know, babe".

Today was different though. It had been 8 days since the incident on the helicarrier, and Steve had been losing his mind bit by bit everyday trying to piece together the how, when and why of the whole situation. Which brought you to right now, watching him shut his eyes and let out deep breaths trying to calm himself down.

"How is it even..," he started quietly. You got up on your knees and moved over to the edge of the bed, leaning a bit to reach out to him.

"I saw him fall," he stated blankly, taking your outstretched hand mindlessly, interlacing your fingers. You bit the inside of your cheek and tilted your head at him.

"Stevie...," you began, and he pulled his hand from yours suddenly.

"I saw him, Y/N, I couldn't see anything else for months. I couldn't sleep because all I could see were his eyes losing hope and all I could hear was him screaming."

You nodded slightly, getting up off the bed and slowly making your way a couple steps over to him.

"So how? How? I know it's him, I just can't, for the life of me, understand how," he said desperately as his head shot up to make eye contact with you. You let out a deep sigh as you grabbed his hands in your own, trying to give him some sense of stability, if only for a split second. You admit, it was very hard to believe, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried that Steve had lost his mind completely; it had only been a matter of time, honestly, considering everything he'd been through. You had no idea how to talk to him about this, but you knew you should approach the subject lightly.

"Steve, honey, I know you must miss him a lot, and I know it was a horrible thing for you to see him... go like that... but-"

His eyes that were previously burning holes into the floor shot up to meet yours, seemingly furious.

Okay, so maybe it could've been approached even lighter. Oops.

"But? But what?" he challenged, daring you to finish the sentence. In all honestly, you had no idea where you were planning on going with it, but now you were nervous. Very, very nervous.

Steve had this incredulous are you kidding me look he gave people when they said something stupid or rude. It was one of those looks where the disappointment was obvious and whoever it was directed at felt immediate regret. The look of God's Righteous Man and America's Golden Boy, and all that. And you were sure as hell feeling that regret right about now.

"Go on, finish your sentence, honey," he ended on a sarcastic note, pulling away from you to cross his arms. You felt your stomach clench as he leaned his head back to look down at you, raising a brow in waiting.

You swallowed, and shook your head slowly, not knowing what to say. You just wanted to help him, but seeing Bucky like that had made him act like a completely different person ever since. He was frustrated all the time, he tended to roll his eyes at people way more than appropriate, and he always got lost in his thoughts, not registering anything or anyone around him for hours at a time. Nobody knew what to expect from him at any given moment, which is what made your pulse pick up speed. You weren't necessarily afraid of him; Steve would kill himself before he ever deliberately hurt you, but you hated confrontation of any kind.

Steve took a step towards you, and in turn you took a step back. Your brows furrowed as you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, racking through your brain for something to say to diffuse the situation before it got too out of hand.

"Steve, I'm just... worried about you," you let out honestly.

"You haven't been sleeping... you haven't been eating as much as you should, you've been snapping at people who are just trying to help you..."

You caught the way his nostrils flared slightly at the last part, before he took another wide step in your direction. You took another step back. He did it again, but this time when you stepped back, you were met with the cool surface of the wall against you.

"Baby...," he says lowly, lowering his head to meet your eyes at the same level, "... do you, by any chance, think I'm overreacting? Or do you maybe not believe me?"

Clenching your teeth, you wanted nothing more than to reach your arms out and have him fall into them, but you knew it wasn't the right situation for it. Instead, he placed his hands on either side of your head, trapping you. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before speaking.

"No, you know I believe you. You know I'll always be by your side, right or wrong, it's just... you've been so preoccupied with this that it's changing you."

Steve's jaw tensed and he closed his eyes, dropping his head.

"I'm just so confused all the time," he whispered, just barely.

"I know, baby, I know," you cooed, and you brought your hands up to hold his face.

The minute your fingers made contact with his skin, he snapped.

"Stop saying you fucking know, Y/N!" he yelled, slamming the wall to the left of your head with each word, and your heart jumped. You flinched, drawing your hands into yourself immediately, turning your head away from his hand.

"You don't fucking know anything I'm going through, nobody does and I just want some goddamn answers!" he continued furiously.

You felt tears in your eyes and heard Steve take deep breaths. You didn't know what had shocked you more, the fact that Steve swore, the close proximity of his hand to your head or the fact that he had finally cracked, nonetheless, at you.

Your hands shook ever so slightly at your sides as you refused to open your eyes. Steve's labored breaths slowed, and you heard his hands slide down and off the wall. Feeling him step away from you, you opened your eyes just a bit. It was enough to see him looking at you with regret in his eyes. You saw the clarity flood them as his bottom lip trembled; he was about to cry at what he just did.

Your body filled with worry as you surged forwards, arms reaching out to him, but he held his own up and quickly moved away from you. You stood there, both of you worried, eyes filled with tears, hands held up in surrender and hopelessness. It was quiet. Quieter than what you were used to with Steve, and you didn't like it.

Tears ran down his cheeks and he brought one hand up to his hair, pulling at it, a habit he had when he was frustrated with himself. Turning his head away from you, he went to sit on the bed and rested his head in his hands.

You followed him. You knew he didn't plan for that to play out the way it did, so you weren't mad. But you also knew he was mad at himself now, for letting himself go that far. Feeling you come closer, Steve's head shot up from his hands and he quickly shook his head.

"No-" he choked out, holding his hand out to stop you from coming any nearer, afraid of hurting you. The sight of him made your heart hurt, and you felt cool air on the wet streaks your tears left behind on your face as you walked to stand straight in front of him, pushing his hand away.

He kept pushing you back with his hand, and you kept pushing it away from you, determined to hold him even if it was the last thing you'd ever do.

He let out continuous whimpers: "stop", "please don't", "I'm so sorry", "I can't-".

Your hands trembled as you pushed his hand away harder than before.

"Steven, fucking stop it," you said through clenched teeth, pushing at his hands, hating the way the two of you must've looked, and hating the way he was retreating into himself, too scared to even look you in the eyes.

You finally managed to drop to your knees in front of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and you rested your hands on his knees.

"Stevie, it's oka-," you started.

Cutting you off, he took a deep, trembling breath and slid off the bed. His legs on either side of you, head hanging low, he timidly ran his hands up your thighs and over your hips, bringing them to rest loosely on your waist. Grabbing his head and lifting it so you could look at him better, he let out a deep, pained whine when his eyes met your own.

"Everything is just so much," he whispered and brought his head forward to rest against your chest, moving his arms to wrap around your waist. Another wave of tears washed over you and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, placing a soft kiss to his hair.

"I'm just so tired," he whined out into your chest, the words vibrating deep in your soul, and you pinched your eyes shut to keep anymore new tears from falling.

Nodding silently, you stroked the back of his head softly.

You placed another kiss on his head, humming through it, rocking side to side slowly. He was going to beat himself up about this for a long, long time, you just knew it. Your travelled down to his back, tracing patterns on it as his breath steadied.

"It's okay... it's okay," you mumbled into his hair, barely audible, but the kisses you felt him leaving on your chest showed you he heard.

You sat there for an hour, rocking him back and forth, until he fell asleep.

You sat there for another as he slept, until your back was sore and your legs were numb.

You didn't care though, Steve had done the same and more for you countless of times. He was always there, as were you.

No, you didn't understand what he was going through, he was right about that part. But, feeling his body relax into yours, feeling the grip he had on your waist loosen, feeling his breath go steady, feeling the wet spots on your shirt where his tears had soaked through, you were determined to try.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021

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minachuuu · 3 years

Text

Itzy Reaction to being sick and cared by their S/O

This was so fun to write, knowing some of the Itzy girls, I don’t think they fancy the idea of staying still, but it’s super fluffy and domestic!💖

Yeji

You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched once again at your girlfriend urgently roaming around the apartment. The doctor had demanded her to rest for a few days but you weren't sure what that really meant for her, or if she even knew what the word 'rest' meant.

Being the oldest member and leader for quite a while, Yeji had forgotten how it really felt to be taken care of. You can't blame her for always wanting to look after herself instead of letting herself be taken care of, but it was definitely making your job of keeping her in bed a little harder than usual.

You had been running around the place reminding her to rest, and every time she went and sat on the sofa, but didn't last there more than five minutes at a time. As your last resource to finally get her to stay put, you went to get a huge blanket, wrapped her from behind on it, carried your 'Yeji burrito' bridal-style to your bedroom and unwrapped her there.

"Hey Y/n! What was that for!?" She whined as she let herself fall into the bed. Her curious eyes followed you as you ran all around her.

"It doesn't look like you're as sick as you say you are!" She furrowed her eyes, confused at your statement. "Just let me show you what it really means to rest, okay?"

You turned on the TV in one of her favorite dramas, successfully engaging her attention as you went and prepared more things for her. As the bath filled itself with hot and steamy water, you prepared a hearty and warm dinner for her, put little candies with the meds that she had to take and made sure she always had a good supply of water and tissues. It was all pretty new to Yeji, to just lay and have all those things just come to her, but she could definitely get used to it, especially if at the end of the day, it meant more cuddle time with you.

Lia

Jisu is one of the most clever girls you have ever met in your life, part of what attracted you to her was that she would get everything she wanted in ways nobody really saw coming. And that alone was the reason why you lowkey started suspecting if she really was that sick at all.

She was enjoying all your cares a little too much to have an injured ankle that needed rest, that maybe for a moment you wondered if she acted as if it was more severe than it was only to get a little extra rest time. But every time you think of that, you remember how she looked like when she arrived home the night she injured herself.

It happened back in practice, only a misplaced step was enough and Jisu had twisted her ankle, falling down to the ground. Her staff had already taken her to the doctor, as you only got to receive her back home, being carried in the arms of her manager.

Even after listening to the story and witnessing the deep bruise on her ankle, she still had the nerve to joke about the whole ordeal.

"Maybe I need to twist my ankle more often if that means you're going to spoil me this good!" She sneered while tasting the food that you had ordered for her, her smile never erasing off her face.

"I'll spoil you all you want," You whispered, with hints of concern scattered in your voice. "But please, no breaking any limbs on purpose."

Jisu was a strong woman, you had absolutely no doubt about that in your heart. The way she handled everything life threw at her always with a smile and humor as her weapons, only reassured another thing that made you fall hard for her from the first time you met: How she always saw the good side of life.

Ryujin

"But I'm fineeeeeee!" It was probably the hundredth time you heard Ryujin excuse herself as she walked around your apartment. You counted down on your head and exactly as you hit cero, she sneezed once again, shaking the entire house in the process.

You had honestly given up on making her stay still, Ryujin has always been incredibly stubborn though she rather likes calling herself a persevering person. From the instant that you first started noticing her increasingly common sneezes, her stuffy nose and sore throat you wanted to take her to the doctor, but she kept dismissing you every time, saying that she 'didn't feel bad at all' But you knew her a little too well, and it was only a matter of time before…

You know those times where she throws her little tantrums? You leaned against the door frame while you watched her groan against her yoga mat as she laid flat over her stomach. You let her vent all that was necessary, until she turned around and finally faced you.

"Okay, maybe I'm not feeling precisely incredible," She accepted, shrinking her shoulders. You helped her up and offered her a tissue.

"Shall we go get you checked?" You scoffed lightly, to what Ryujin sheepishly nodded.

The doctor was quick to tell you both that it was only a cold, and sent you both back home to rest. She was very complacent into taking her meds and rest enough, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to be frowning the entire time. You only chuckled at her facade, there was no way she was hating all the attention and cares as much as she wanted to show it. Because when Ryujin thinks you're not looking, her smile shines as she cuddles into you, holding for dear life the hot cup of tea that you know how to prepare exactly as she likes it.

Chaeryeong

No one enjoys looking at their girlfriend being all sad about hurting herself. Chaeryeong wasn't amused when the doctor told her that she had to heavily rest for at least three days if she wanted her leg to heal perfectly. You had noticed her a little blue after the incident, but she knew she had to take care of herself if she wanted to go back and dance her heart out like she loved to.

You had enough of her sad frown, you missed your girlfriend's smile and even in these circumstances you were put on getting it back. You stood up from the couch where you both were turning the endless channels for something interesting to see, getting your phone, you ordered Chaeyoung's favorite takeout and a few sweet treats to spoil her. As you waited for your food to arrive, you ran to your room and collected all the pillows, banquets and cushions you could find.

For the last touches, you cleaned the dust off your string lights and rushed over to the living room, hanging them around from all different places. Chae's eyes only followed you around, confused. She watched you putting up the lights and hanging huge blankets from the furniture, covering all the floor and sharp edges with pillows and… that's where it dawned on her.

"Jagi! Why are you making a fort?" She asked, while a grin was being painted on her once gloomy face.

"It's not precisely how we planned it initially," You took the remote and changed over to Netflix. "But how do you say we take advantage of this, and have that movie date we talked about?"

Her eyes sparked as her grin grew from ear to ear, just as the bell ringed, with all your favorite snacks at your door ready to have a fun binging date. Part of her couldn't believe she was so lucky to have a partner as sweet and incredible as you, but if it was a dream in any way, she prayed she never woke up from it.

Yuna

Usually, when someone has a cold it wears them off, tiring them, making them look like walking zombies. Not Yuna! Of course not! If all, you looked even more tired of keeping up with her energy even if she was the one with the cold. But you knew her, she's just like that. And to be honest, from the beginning you weren't really trying to maintain her on the bed, you knew it was going to be impossible.

But your deal consisted of her staying home and not making anything really vigorous, you took on the tasks of reminding her of the meds she had to take throughout the day, cooking her warm soup, making hot tea and supplying with enough tissues needed. But she wasn't keen on just watching the TV and letting you do all the hard work alone! So wherever you were, she was always there right besides you, talking her soul out through her sore throat about funny anecdotes with her members.

Finally the sun set up on the horizon as you both sat in bed watching some of her favorite dramas eating some light and warm dinner. You still didn't totally understand how she was able to keep jumping from side to side over the bed, but you watched her joyfully as she did. The night was young when she slammed into your body, cuddling down with you when she let out a deep sigh.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me Y/n." She whispered as she tightened her grip around you.

"It's always my pleasure Jagi." You caressed her hair lightly, running her strands through your fingers. "What would you like to eat tomorrow?"

But you received no response back after a while. You looked down at the girl in your arms, her closed eyes and gentle smile laying on your chest, as her heavy breath gave up that she had finally run out of energy.

#itzy reactions #itzy scenarios #itzy imagines #itzy yeji #itzy ryujin #itzy lia #itzy chaeryeong #itzy yuna

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onesillybeach · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings Ch. 18

F!Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao

This one is short and I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. Also, yay Helena cameo~ But also, aw, Helena cameo ;-;

@ancientowlgirl @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @shang-hung

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 *15 16 *17

You two hadn’t had sex. You’d made out. You’d talked. You’d made out some more. You’d talked some more. You’d fallen asleep with Liu in his bed. His light snores had lulled you to sleep comfortably. Finally, relaxed.

You’d woken up the next morning when Liu had shifted. You felt his lips on your forehead and smiled before opening your eyes to look at him.

“Good morning,” Liu said softly.

“Sure is,” you said, then returned the kiss, but to his lips.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright.”

“Did you want to train with me this morning?”

Yes. You did… But you trained with Lao in the morning. And today was supposed to be Lao’s day with you as well. If you ditched him for Liu… You didn’t want to think what would happen. But, instead of telling Liu that, you shook your head and snuggled under his covers, inhaling his scent. “I’m gonna sleep a bit more. I’ll see you at breakfast?”

He grinned and nodded as he got out of bed. “Take your time,” he told you, grabbing his gi-top from the floor and tossing it into a basket. He took another moment to watch you with a smile before stepping out into the hall.

As weird as it was to notice, Raiden had not been acting like himself lately. Him being distant wasn't new. Raiden had seemed to keep a distance between everyone. But as you trained with Kung Lao, you noticed Raiden watching with a solemn expression.

When you finished training, Lao had given you a kiss. Oh, that kiss. It wasn’t a simple kiss. No. You’d learned that Lao wasn’t a fan of giving you those little pecks. When he kissed you, he did so with purpose. He’d held your face. His lips engulfed you. That alone could be all the encouragement you needed to train harder. As he pulled away, your smile brought him to smile in return. You could tell the kiss encouraged him as well. It was a reward for both of you. But instead of following him to Breakfast, you told him you would catch up later.

You watched Lao walk off… watched his ass a bit selfishly, then turned your attention towards Raiden. He was watching you.

You gave him a respectful bow.

He gave you a bow of his head.

"Lord Raiden," you addressed as you approached him. "Are you alright?"

He raised his brows to you. "Of course I am, Y/F/N."

"You don't look it," you pressed.

Raiden took in a stiff breath. "I assure you, I am fine."

"You can't lie to a nurse," you told him. "We know better."

That got a little chuckle from him. "You are quite observant."

"I was trained for it."

"I suppose you were."

"So what's bothering you? Is it me? Am I not training hard enough?"

"You are doing well."

“The kiss? Was that awkward for you?”

“No.”

"Then what is it?"

Raiden sighed. His glowing eyes shifted away from you. "Your issue has painfully reminded me of my own."

"Of the person you loved?" You’d remembered.

"I still love," he corrected you.

"Didn't you say it's been like five-hundred years?"

He nodded.

"They're… still alive?"

"...No.”

"Oh..." You weren’t sure what to say.

Raiden sucked in another breath. You could tell this was difficult for him to talk about. "She was killed in a tournament."

"What was her name?"

Raiden frowned a bit. "Helena Morana," he'd breathed.

You blinked at him. "A human?"

He nodded.

"What was she like?"

“Just and selfless. She used her magic to help others, even myself.”

"She was a witch?"

“A sorceress.”

"Like Shang Tsung?"

Raiden frowned. "No. Not like Shang Tsung. Shang Tsung is a snake corrupted by evil… Helena Morana… My Helena… Was once a beacon of light and hope for me." As Raiden stared at you, you could tell he was hurting. You could see the pain in his eyes. He wanted to say something else, but no words came from his lips. You frowned to him.

"You are concerned for me?" Raiden asked, now amused.

You nodded. "She must have meant a lot to you.”

“She still does.”

You were quiet then. The way he spoke of Helena, as if she still existed, made you wonder. He must have read your mind again, because he chuckled and nodded. He then offered you his arm. You took it carefully despite your confusion. He began to lead you through the halls.

"What do you know of Mortal Kombat's history?" He asked you curiously.

You cringed. History was never your forte. You barely passed your history classes in highschool. And you honestly didn't remember much of what Liu had told you. You blew out your cheeks.

"Ah." Raiden nodded, not at all disappointed. "It is a complicated history. Do not worry."

"Liu told me all kinds of things. I just…" You made a vague motion with your free hand.

"It is alright. You are being forced to learn much in little time."

"Yeah…" You frowned despite Raiden's understanding.

"He did not mention my Helena?" He asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I know he told me about a bunch of people, but I think I would have remembered your girlfriend. It’s kind of… odd.” He lifted a brow to you then. You quickly tried to explain yourself. “I mean. You don’t usually hear about gods falling in love with humans… Except for like, Greek mythology.”

Raiden laughed. A good laugh. But he said nothing as he continued to lead you through the halls. Eventually, they grew totally unfamiliar. You'd never seen this part of the temple, but you knew you were deep in. The air smelled different… musty.

Raiden stopped before a large wooden door and turned to look at you. "Prepare yourself. I know mortals are rather uncomfortable with what rests behind this door.” And before you could answer, the door had opened and revealed to you the source of that musty smell.

Tombs. Catacombs. Hundreds--No, thousands— of bodies were at rest, lined neatly along the walls, dressed in robes. Most of them were nothing but skeletons now. Some seemed mummified. You quickly realised who these people were as you stepped in: Monks. Your brows knotted. Why had Raiden brought you here? And why weren’t you grossed out?

Probably because you’d seen your fair share of disgusting things. Being a nurse wasn’t all bandaids and booster shots.

“Come,” Raiden said, pulling you from your head. You turned to see him walking further into the catacombs. You quickly followed. “Those who perish in my service, do not go forgotten,” Raiden said.

“Are all of these people… Did they all serve you?”

“Yes,” he simply answered. The further he led you, the more you were grateful he was there to guide you. The catacombs were an absolute maze.

“This place is insane…” You whispered as you looked from one body to the next.

“Those here are only the ones who wished to be here… or had no other place to go.”

You turned your head to look up at him.

“You may be put to rest here as well, if you choose.”

Your jaw stiffened. You were sure Raiden meant that as a simple offer, and not a warning of what was to come. “Thanks…” You said. “But… I don’t think I’d match the dress code.” Joke. Humor. Always when awkwardness hit.

Raiden glanced to you. “There is no dress code.”

Maybe he just didn’t understand that it was a joke. “The robes… And the… bones. I think I’d look too fresh.” Oh, God, what was wrong with you? You weren’t a slab of meat! “I mean—”

“They were not all just bones and robes when they entered here.”

“No, I… I guess so. I just… I’m sorry. You just threw me a curve ball and I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Ah,” He nodded.

You must have followed Raiden for several more minutes before you began to notice a change. Some of the bodies wore armor instead of robes. Were those… fighters? Former Earthrealm defenders? Wait, if those ones were here… “You’re taking me to her, aren’t you?”

Raiden let a small grin pull his lips.

“How did she die?” you asked. “I know you said in a tournament, but… how?”

“Shang Tsung defeated her. He took her soul.”

The catacombs had twisted and turned the whole way so far, but Raiden now led you into a large, circular room. The walls were lined with more remains, all in different clothing. Some with beautiful armor, some in simple clothing. One section of a wall in particular caught your eye. Nine bodies, each with their own burning incense, were lined up on their own shelves. And the shelves and remains themselves were neat and clean. Stepping closer to them, you could hardly see a speck of dirt nor dust on either of them. It was such a stark contrast to the rest of the bodies in the room, and in the rest of the catacombs, where the bodies had mostly seemed left alone. But these nine seemed actively taken care of. Why?

“Kung Lao’s ancestors,” Raiden answered your curiosity.

Lao’s ancestors. Nine of them? Surely there were more...

“This room is for Earthrealm’s former defenders,” Raiden answered your thoughts again.

“So these are all the past Kung Laos?” You asked, stepping back to look them all over as a whole. “Then this one here—” you pointed to the one you figured was the oldest.

“The Great Kung Lao,” Raiden answered. He sighed then and rested his hand on the edge of a raised, open, sarcophagus in the center of the room. “And this is my Helena,” Raiden said slowly, painfully. He wouldn’t even look at his lover’s remains. It was too painful. You looked, though. You couldn’t help yourself. You’d stepped right over and peered down into the stone sarcophagus.

She wore a dark dress. You weren’t sure what color it used to be. She wore simple shoes, not too different from the ones you were offered by the temple. Her hands were folded neatly over her stomach. Her hair was long and black and draped over her shoulders. And you could tell, even with how horribly sunken her face was, how mummified she was, that she used to be pretty… gorgeous even. You frowned at the sight. “She’s beautiful, Lord Raiden,” you said softly.

A small, single sound of disbelief left him. “She is nothing but brittle skin and bone now.”

“Well… Yeah,” Your frown sunk. You supposed it did sound silly to say such a grotesque sight was beautiful. “But… That’s not how you remember her.”

Raiden nodded, then let his grin come back to his face. “No, it is not.”

“She’s beautiful, Lord Raiden,” You repeated.

“She is,” he agreed.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang #kung lao #raiden #reader insert #fanfic #fic #reader x character #ludi lin #max huang #tadanobu asano #new beginnings #reader x liu kang #reader x kung lao #liu kang x reader #kung lao x reader

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nikethestatue · 3 years

Text

Meet Me in the Silence

Elriel Month - Day 5

Continuation of ‘Forbidden’

Honestly, tooth-rotting fluff, some Nyx, stabbing Cassian with fork, Azriel singing and relationship stuff

Azriel loved Nyx. He didn’t love him because Nyx was cute and pudgy, or because he was his nephew, or because he was a fun, if demanding baby, and not even because spending time with him was a private relief for Azriel. A time to let go, a time where he could spend rolling around on the carpet, helping Nyx with blocks, rattles and the construction of pillow forts, watching Nyx sneeze little whiffs of starry night.

Nyx, unbenounced to him, showed Azriel some truths that Azriel couldn’t face before. The thing with Nyx was that he was a baby and he didn’t care—he didn’t care about Azriel’s scars and his ugly hands, he didn’t care about Azriel’s cruel ways, or the services that he provided to the High Lord. Nyx didn’t care about how many people fell under Truth-Teller’s deadly edge, or what Azriel had to do on the battlefields or during the Blood Rite. Nyx didn’t judge. As an infant, he wanted the same thing from Azriel as he wanted from everyone—warmth and comfort, kindness and love. He wanted to be rocked to sleep, fed, changed and played with. He didn’t care that the bottle was held by the same hand that tortured the Night Court’s enemies, or that the man who held him to his chest did some unforgivable things in his life.

As the last nine months rolled by, Azriel had to do some re-evaluations of his life. He had time on his hand, to be sure. Instead of courting Elain, like he wanted to, he thought. There was nothing much else left for him to do.

He thought that perhaps, despite his internal denials, Elain was much like Nyx—she accepted Azriel for what he was. Scars and all. Her acceptance did not stem from naiveite, though, but love. The realization hit Azriel like a sledgehammer. He crawled towards it, slowly, but surely, rethinking every touch and every smile, recalling every smirk and sparkle of the caramel-brown eyes, all the jokes and jabs, and gentle touches and finger brushes. Recalled the worry on Elain’s face when she knew that he went on his missions—even if they weren’t particularly dangerous. The pain that was etched on her features, when he returned in a particularly foul mood, and she knew that it was because he did things that marred his soul. He remembered her casually handing him a whiskey, which he’d gulped down in one go. Or a cup of tea, with honey and lemon, just like he liked. The gooey caramel cakes that she made—they were his favourite—and they began making a frequent appearance on the dessert menu. The past nine months of their forbidden love—is that what it was?—were the time when Azriel finally felt loved. For the first time in his life. Mor never really loved him, not like he needed to be loved. His brothers—well, they were his brothers, so that was that. Elain loved him. Of that, he was now certain. Elain loved him without touching. Without kissing. Without romance. Without courtship. Without gifts or presents or flowers. Without promises. Without expectations. It’s like she couldn’t help herself, even if she tried. She needed to love him, as much as he needed to be loved by her. All her tiny gestures of comfort and care created a glittering mosaic of love and devotion, which he only now began to piece together. And it pained him that she was not free to express herself as she wanted to, because loving him came with a hefty, unreasonable price.

For her, he’d fight. For her, he’d be the person she deserved. When she began choosing him, it was the first time in his life when someone actively chose him, despite all his shortcoming. And he wanted her to continue choosing him, every day, making the decision to love him.

Azriel had a lot of time to think about it, in silence.

Azriel was a good cook. One of his may hidden talents. He spent much of his time alone, or in places that were foreign and unfamiliar, or in the army, and necessity being the mother of invention, he had to learn how to cook. And then, he became quite good at it. He had to draw the line at baking, but he could make a steak like nobody’s business, and eggs every way were his specialty. Tonight though, he was tired and distracted. It was the first time in a very, very long time when he and Elain were alone, so he didn’t particularly want to waste it on cooking. What’s more, with Nyx being the raging little monster that he was today, Azriel wanted to put the kid to bed as soon as possible and just relax. For a meticulous planner, tonight, he had no plans at all…and it both excited and frightened him, because it would just be the two of them and they’ll have to figure it out.

“Breakfast for dinner?” he offered, while Elain set Nyx’s food in front of him. He was too quick for her and immediately jammed his whole fist into the vegetable mash, soliciting a groan from her, as he began licking his palm and fingers with gusto.

“Whatever you want to make,” she agreed, as she began wiping the mess that Nyx made, while Azriel smirked, shaking his head. He tossed two slices of ham in the skillet, and allowed it to crisp up and caramelize.

He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. She smiled, momentarily lost in the sensation of closeness and comfort that he always offered her, so effortlessly too.

“You know,” warned Azriel, using his ‘stern’ voice, looking at Nyx, “for your behavior, you should be sent to an Illyrian training camp. Just so you know what’s what. There, there won’t be 10 people looking for Brute for you, or uncle Cassian swimming with you in the pool, or Elain feeding you lemon cakes, or aunt Nesta reading to you the same book over, and over, and over, and over again. No aunt Mor taking you on a pony, and no Varian building sandcastles with you, only to watch you destroy them.”

Elain, tucked against his chest, was laughing. Especially because Nyx was glaring at Aziel unhappily and suspiciously.

Then, she said, softly, almost to herself, “I am happy that he is happy. That we can give him the childhood that none of us had. Let him be a little bit spoilt, because he is so loved.”

There was longing in her tone. Longing for something that she probably desired for herself. Those conversations have never been had between the two of them. Gods, they’ve never even been together in public, let alone had conversations about the future, and a future that included children. It was never something Azriel even thought of, considering his ‘luck’ in love, and his line of work. But he heard her. So he gave her a little kiss on the cheek and returned to his cooking.

Elain was feeding Nyx the last of his food, when Azriel placed two plates on the table, and poured both of them a glass of ale.

“Beer with breakfast,” she giggled. “I like the way you think, shadowsinger.”

He laughed, loving how easy it all was. How easy the banter came, how relaxed they were together, how there were no pressures at all when it was just the two of them. Well, three.

“Alright, you’ve taken enough of everybody’s time today,” he decided, as he fished Nyx out of the highchair and went to wash his face and hands again. Elain remained seated, watching the two of them, with her chin propped on her hand.

Was it normal to be that enamoured with a man? When he did mundane things? She had to admit—Azriel was indescribably beautiful. That alone would attract anyone. The gargantuan wings, ticked tightly, but not tensely against his back didn’t hurt either. The span of his enormous shoulders, the movement of those thick muscles around the arms, over his back, which moved and bulged as he wrestled with Nyx, who was refusing to get his hands washed, were mesmerizing. She knew that she shouldn’t be so dazzled by his looks, but she couldn’t help herself. But it was more than just admiring the elegant cut of his body, the well-fitted trousers that did very nice things to his thighs and his long legs, or the enticing forearms that were exposed from his haphazardly rolled up sleeves. The tattoos, in fact, snaked lower than she anticipated. She’d never seen him undressed—Cassian, strong, beefy and powerful, and the leaner, thinner Rhysand—plenty of times. But not Azriel. He’s been annoyingly timid. All three were tattooed, but apparently, Azriel’s reached all the way to his scars. She smiled to herself, amazed and bemused. Who would’ve thought that she, Elain, would be so attracted to a winged and tattooed male? What a far cry from the ordinary, plain Greyson.

Azriel plopped Nyx down on the floor, tossed him Brute and some toys and then quickly threw a shield around them, so Nyx was contained and didn’t attempt to wander from the kitchen.

“You should’ve started,” he nodded to her untouched plate, as he sat down.

“Not without you,” she said. “Looks very good!”

“I try,” he said bashfully and they tucked into to the scrambled eggs, ham and vegetables.

“Oh, gods, it’s really good,” she almost moaned.

“Baby, it’s just eggs,” he reminded her, secretly very pleased with her reaction.

“Well, baby likes them!” she giggled, cutting into the ham. Azriel watched her, watched the movement of her hands and she asked, “What?”

He chuckled and said, sipping his ale,

“I recall when you were planning to kill Cassian with a fork.”

Her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Oh, you don’t remember?” he was laughing softly.

“I don’t think it’s even possible to kill Cassian,” she noted.

“I’d agree. But you were ready and eager.”

“When was I planning to kill Cassian?” she demanded.

“First time we met—at dinner. I remember Nesta…well, being Nesta. And Cassian—Mother save me, the moment he had her eyes on her, he was just dripping with this hideous arousal,”

Elain almost choked, eyes wide.

“What?”

“It was horrible,” he gave an exaggerated shudder. “Rhys and I were traumatized. Those two were going at it, as usual, fighting, sniping…whatever they do, and all we could smell was him getting hotter and hotter. That dinner,” he shook his head at the memory. “It was something else.”

She was laughing, nodding.

“And you?” she asked, at last.

He gave her a long thoughtful look. A tender, loving look that made her throat bob, and suddenly she was hot…much like Cassian.

“Honestly?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off her.

“Yes.”

“I thought that I saw the most human and the most beautiful girl in the world. Utterly unattainable. Engaged to another man. But surprisingly unafraid of us,”

“I was very afraid of you!” she argued. Azriel smiled.

“You three were huge!” she cried. “With these enormous wings,”

He raised his brow suggestively and she smacked his arm,

“Oh, shut up,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” he shrugged, “but please, tell me more about our huge wings, and our generally superior size,”

“I am not telling you anything,” she snapped, her cheeks red, and he was delighted.

“But you do admit that you tried to kill Cassian?”

“I didn’t try to kill him. Just defend myself, if there was need,”

“Pretty sure Nesta would’ve unmanned him with her bare hands,”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

“And me?” he pressed, “you didn’t want to stab me with a fork?”

She gave him a cool look of nonchalance and recalled,

“You suddenly turned into a poet!”

“Did I?” it was his turn to be confused.

“Something about hearing the wind song, or something,”

“I don’t even remember that,” he confessed, a slow blush spreading over his cheeks.

“I do. I guess we remember different things about that evening.” She glanced at him from under her lashes and added, “I just remember thinking that you were the most handsome man—male—I’d ever seen. I didn’t even think that people could be that beautiful,”

Azriel’s blush deepened and Elain secretly enjoyed watching him squirm a little. She was well aware of the fact that he was always uncomfortable when people mentioned his appearance. He knew that he was handsome, almost unnaturally so, but whatever horrible words and deeds he’d experienced in his childhood warped his perception of himself. At times, she wanted to assure him that no one paid much attention to his hands…she certainly didn’t. She always found his hands, the scars on them just as attractive as the rest of him. They were simply a part of him, just as his beauty was. But he struggled. She knew it.

And as she always did, when she wanted to reassure him, she took his hand and brought it to her lips. He stilled. She kissed. Kissed the inside and outside of his palm. Watched him. Watched him tense, but not pull away his hand. Kissed each long, strong finger. Kissed the rough skin. Kissed the pain and the doubt. Not away, but at least temporarily.

Bored and tired, Nyx fell asleep on the floor, sprawled on the rug, clutching Brute.

“We have to take him upstairs,” muttered Elain, releasing Azriel’s hand.

She didn’t know how to deal with the intimacy of their relationship. Her feelings were raw and exposed, and she was painfully aware of her own inexperience. She didn’t know how to be seductive. Had no idea how to play games—wasn’t really looking to learn either. But she wasn’t dazzling or mysterious, and had no inkling of what Azriel expected, of what he wanted. He was so unbearably difficult to read, while she was stupidly, obviously in love with him. She was the Cassian to his Nesta. She was the one dripping with arousal, unable to stifle her need, or dampen her desire. He probably saw her as the fool that she was.

Frustrated, she made to get up from the table, but he caught her wrist and clasped it gently, as always reigning in his terrifying strength.

“Come here,” he murmured and pulled her to him, until she settled on his lap, feeling both awkward and happy. “Lainey,”

“I like baby,” she blurted.

He nodded, and said, “Baby, you don’t need to pretend with me…I…” he swallowed, thinking how to continue. “You might be surprised, but it’s new for me as well. I’ve had,” ugh, he really didn’t want to discuss his past lovers with her, not right now. “I am not inexperienced,” he said diplomatically. No, he wasn’t. “But this,” and he waved his hand between them, “this is new for me as well. I’ve never felt this much…for anyone. Ever,”

“What becomes of us, Az?” she asked softly.

“Whatever you want,” he stated simply.

“But,”

He shrugged, “there will always be obstacles,”

“Rhysand is more than just an ‘obstacle,’” she reminded him.

“Rhysand, frankly, can go and fuck himself,” Azriel said flatly.

The new, Fae Elain wasn’t scandalized by the coarse language. The three brothers, Nesta and Mor cursed like sailors, and Elain found herself throwing an occasional ‘shit’ and ‘dick’ in her speech. So it made her smile when the usually controlled, polite Azriel unleashed his mouth.

“He is your High Lord,” she reminded him.

“He is technically everyone’s High Lord, but it doesn’t mean that he gets free reign on doing whatever he wants. If I am not asking him to give up Feyre—remember how he snuck her out from Tamlin’s clutches—then he doesn’t get to tell us what we ought to do.”

The thing that he’s been carrying in his pocket was burning through him, a constant reminder. He shifted and then looked straight at her and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. For someone who didn’t crave or enjoy touch, the desire to touch her was constant. He didn’t even need anything sexual at this point, but feeling her skin against him, in whatever way, was beyond satisfying.

“Did you promise him anything?” she inquired, moving even closer to him, loving the heavy warmth of his arms around her.

“Absolutely not!” he spat. “He is completely overstepping, and I’ve been humouring him up until now, but it seems to be that he is a little too comfortable with the status quo,” he looked at her, his voice grave, “I hope you didn’t promise him anything either?”

She shook her head,

“No. I didn’t say anything.”

A whoosh of breath escaped him. “Thank the Cauldron.”

Elain stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers and said, sharply this time, “Everything’s been taken away from me once already. I wasn’t prepared to give you up. You are the only thing that I want, and Rhysand wasn’t going to take that away from me. From us…” she glanced at him, “if you feel the same…”

“Do you need to ask?”

She smiled.

Azriel exhaled deeply and then cupped her face between his hands. He was going to do it. He needed to do it. She devoured his gaze, the look of intent in his forest-green golden eyes, the determined set of his jaw. He left her, once, waiting…Waiting for him to take the next step, waiting for him to act and he didn’t. Not today.

“Elain,” he swallowed audibly, and she felt that he was nervous. “Will you permit me to court you?”

Azriel wanted to do this properly. Elain deserved it—deserved to be treated with kindness and respect, but he deserved it as well—he wanted to do what so many others took for granted. It never came naturally to him, the normal things, and for once, despite everything, he was going to make this one thing happen.

Nyx moved on the floor, woke up and let out a scream. Confused, he looked around and began babbling tearfully ‘ma, ma, ma’.

Elain slipped off his lap and gently cooed “Shhhh, come…come, my sweet boy,” and picked him up. Azriel watched them, not even upset at the interruption.

Nyx was crying in earnest now, and not even Brute was enough to console him.

“I am going to try to put him to bed,” she whispered, rocking the baby against her chest.

Azriel opened his arms and said, “hand him over.”

“But,”

He carefully took Nyx from her and the move did not result in silence or calm, and Nyx cried just as sadly, looking for his mom. As Azriel made his way down the hall and towards the stairway, with Elain trailing him, he began to sing. In a language that Elain did not know, but understood innately to be Illyrian. The way the sounds rolled off Azriel’s tongue was natural, the melody lulling and sweet. His voice was soothing and pleasant, with a gravelly note that came from the back of his throat. Nyx stilled, blinking at him. As they slowly went up the stairs, Azriel rocked and cuddled Nyx, stretching his wings so they covered them in a dark canopy, the words of the lullaby muffled, but just as beautiful. Elain wished that it didn’t end…There were just a words that she picked up ‘warrior’ and ‘sleep’—something she learned from Cassian, who was teaching Nesta some Illyrain phrases, now that they spent a decent amount of time in their Illyrian bungalow.

In Nyx’s nursery, Azriel put the baby down in the crib and covered him with a blanket, rocking the crib lightly, as he continued his song, quieter now, seeing that Nyx’s eyelids drooped.

Wordlessly, he lifted his arm and Elain slipped to his side, and wrapped her arm around his torso. They never needed words.

Sleep, warrior heart

Sleep and know that you are loved

Sleep, warrior heart and meet me in silence

Find dreams and peaceful slumber, my little warrior heart

Azriel quietly translated the song, without her prompting. He knew that she’d want to know what the words meant. He, however, did not explain the history of the song and where and how he’d learned it.

“Yes.”

He looked down at her, a silent question on his face.

“The answer is ‘yes’,” she repeated. “You may court me.”

“Thank you,” was all he said.

They left the nursery and stopped in the hallway.

He put his hand on the back of her neck and stroked.

“Then I’d like for you to have this,” he said at last. He took something from his pocket and laid it in her palm. It was a key.

“We will have to meet in silence.”

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elriel #azriel #elriel fanfic #elain x azriel #azriel and elain #elain archeron #elain #nyx #my writing

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house-of-galathynius · 3 years

Text

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Three ~ Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Chances

Aelin had sat on her bed thinking of only Rowan. She had tried and failed to read a book, as well as braid her hair and even as far as trying to brush Fleetfoot's coat. But no matter what she did, her mind wandered back to the Fae prince who was her soul-bonded.

Her maids had knocked on the door an hour ago to dress her for dinner. She had wanted to form an excuse as to why she could not go, but nothing came to mind. And she was sure Aedion or Orlon, or both would come up here and drag her down either way. So she put on her finest gown and let the maids put her hair into a pretty updo and place the tiara on her head. And when she looked in the mirror she balked. Aelin knew she was pretty, as she’d been told by many suitors. But when she gazed at her reflection she really felt pretty. Her cheeks had a rosy glow to them and her eyes were bright. She felt good.

The maids had let her stare in the mirror a few seconds longer before they ushered her away and down to the dining hall. Elspeth giving her a wink as she departed.

Aedion was at the door when she arrived, looking handsome in all his finery. He seemed to think the same as he grabbed her hand and spun her around before grinning. “You look… you look like a princess.”

“Don’t you start.” She rolled her eyes.

“I look forward to hearing all about it later. The maids in the kitchen wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“What were you doing in the kitchen? Terrorising the cooks again?” She elbowed his side.

“I haven’t done that since I was ten.” He elbowed her right back. “I was doing a favour for a friend.”

“Oh, you mean you were doing whatever you could to get into Lysandra’s good graces? Honestly Aedion, you’d have an easier time winning Ren over than you do Lys.”

“Very funny Aelin. Should I bring up all your successful relationships? Shall we talk about the mating bond now or later?” That lions grin crept up his face and Aelin didn’t know whether to start a brawl or to laugh along with him.

“Careful Aedion, she could easily take you in a fight.” Her father stopped behind her, laughing quietly at their bickering.

“Not without her flame she couldn’t.” Another grin.

“Settle down you two. We do have company. I don’t think they want to see the two of you bickering all night.” Her mothers words silenced them. Aelin poked her tongue out at Aedion as he poked her side, both of them earning stern looks from her parents.

When they entered the hall Orlon had already been seated at the head of the table, Sellene at the other end. Dispersed along the table were a mixture of Whitethorn family members and spouses, along with members of the Terrasen royal family. Servers were showing everyone to their seats, but even so, Aelin made her way to the usual spot she took at functions such as these, when the server intercepted her before she could sit.

“Your Highness, you will be seated here tonight.” She looked to the chair that had been pulled out for her and cringed. Sat in the chair to the left was Rowan. She glanced to Orlon who was actively avoiding eye contact, but she knew that he had been the one behind this little rearrangement.

Despite her disapproval, Aelin sat and smoothed her dress as she did. Moments went by with silence, people around her chattering away. She tried and failed to meet the eyes or Orlon, instead she had the pleasure of Aedion laughing at her expense. She wasn’t going to give Aedion the upper hand tonight, so she decided to suck it up and turn to Rowan.

“You clean up nicely.” As if he had not been dressed to the nines the first time she met him.

“As do you, princess.”

Silence.

“Did you find your way to your rooms? The castle can be… large.”

Since when had she become such a bumbling fool?

“I did. I also had the chance to inspect the training facilities.”

“Oh? And were they to your liking?”

“They’re adequate. If you would be up to it we could use them tomorrow?” She hadn’t lied when she had told him she had never trained with anyone before. The only person had been her instructor, who had never really trained with her, more like watched and criticised. Her flame was more a party trick than anything, she wasn’t sure it would be that impressive using it in front of Rowan. But despite her reservations about the mating bond and him, she still agreed.

Dinner went smoothly, their conversation remained strictly polite; talking about the food, the wine, the dessert. All too soon it was over and Aelin was thankful to be excused.

She returned to her room and jumped at the sight of someone on her bed. Her flame immediately sprung from her fingers and she edged closer, only to sigh in relief when she saw Sam.

Sam?

“What the hell are you doing in here?” She quickly shut the door and lit the few candles and fireplace.

“I needed to see you. Lysandra said you weren’t going to be able to see me for a few weeks… so I asked her to help me here.”

“If someone catches you…”

“I know, but I had to see you.”

She stepped out of the slippers she wore and undid her hair letting it fall down her back.

“You can’t be here Sam. I’m serious.”

“I’ve never seen you dressed liked that. You look royal.” He smirked.

“That’s because I am royal you fool.” She threw a cushion at him and then collapsed onto the sofa. “What is it Sam, that couldn’t wait until I came to you?”

“I wanted to know if you’d thought my offer over again? I’ve found someone who will take over the library. And there’s a ship leaving for the Southern Continent in four weeks. It’s enough time to sort everything out, for you to—“

“I can’t, Sam.”

He stopped where he had been pacing by the fire. “You… can’t?”

Aelin’s body went hot and her pulse quickened. She loved Sam, but when she looked at him… there was no buzz. No spark. Not like what she had felt with Rowan. And she knew that was because of the mating bond… but it still meant something. Hadn’t she always known it was never going to be forever with Sam? Hadn’t her parents said the same thing to her?

“I want to run away with you. Or I did… last night. But what would happen in sixty years? When you’re ageing and I’m still what I am now. What happens when you’re gone? I can’t come crawling back asking for the throne. Not after abandoning it like that. I have responsibilities, you know this.” She stood now. “My life is here Sam, it will be forever.” She turned to face him fully. “I love you, but my answer is no.” She choked on the last words.

He stood there, staring into the flames. Neither of them said a word, the only sound came from the crackling of logs.

Sam finally turned to her. “I had really hoped that you would give it all up. That what you told me about wanting to be free, wanting to live your own life, was true. That you would realise that your love for me was stronger than your love for this.” He gestured to the room, the palace, Terrasen. “I would give up everything for you Aelin. I would lose everything if it meant we could be together.”

She was crying now.

“And deep down, I thought maybe you would give up your immortality. Give up that side of you so we could have a normal life together.” Sam wiped tears from his own face, but still she said nothing. “I was never going to be good enough, was I?”

Her heart cracked at his words. “You are enough Sam. But my country, my kingdom… it will always come first.”

“Does the fact I would give it all up mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it does! But I never asked you to do that. I told you from the beginning this would be temporary. We would continue as long as we could, but one day I would have to step up and be the person I have to be. For my kingdom, for my family… and for me.”

He slid his hands down his face, despair in his eyes. “I should have known better.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” She was angry now.

“It means that I was right when I first met you. You are spoiled and selfish and only care for yourself. Maybe it’s a good thing it’s ending now. I’ll save myself the pain in the future.”

His words stung. Sam had been angry at her before, but he had never been cruel. A knock at the door had them both freezing.

“Aelin? Is everything okay?” Rowan. What was he doing here?

“Everything is fine.” Sam was staring at her, then at the door, trying to put it together. She didn’t take her eyes of Sam, he stared right back. Neither of them said a word until Sam gave a slight shake of his head and made off through the balcony doors and out into the night. She didn’t look away even as Rowan knocked at the door once more.

“You might as well come in.” She sighed.

The door creaked open, slowly at first, and then wider as he let himself in. Rowan left the door ajar, letting her know he had good intentions, whatever they were.

“What are you doing here?” She glanced once more at the balcony doors, sure that Sam was far enough away.

“I could... smell something was wrong.”

Right. The Fae senses.

“It’s nothing, just a sad book.”

“I’d believe that if it wasn’t just you I could scent.”

He could smell Sam.

“Rowan…”

“I have no claim over you, so what you do is none of my business. But I had to check you weren’t in danger.” Her heart panged in her chest, warmth spreading at his protectiveness. She returned to the sofa and motioned for Rowan to join her. She beckoned the guard outside and requested tea for them both. She could see Rowan’s hesitation as he debated whether this was a good idea.

“The door will remain open, no funny business, don’t worry.” She gave him her signature grin and he relaxed as he came to sit next to her. They had been closer at dinner, but the intimacy of them both being in her room… it was new and strange to her. Sam had never been in here.

“Was the male…” He trailed off.

“He’s my… was my—“ she cringed at the next words. “Was my lover.”

He flinched at the word, she felt his jealousy even if he did not fully show it.

“You’re not planning on courting me for these few weeks just to reject me?”

“That was not what I was planning on doing.” Aelin continued. “To be honest, I didn’t know what I was planning to do. I’ve never been in this situation before.” She picked some lint from her skirts.

“You loved him?”

She gave a small nod. “He asked me leave with him, to runaway. Head to the Southern Continent, to build a life there. I didn’t give him an answer, so he came here to get one.” She didn’t dare look Rowan in the eyes. “I told him I couldn’t do it, and he said some things… and then he left.”

“Did he hurt you?” A guttural growl.

“No! Not physically. He would never hurt me. He’s just upset that I said no, that’s all.”

Aelin’s own voice was low, sad. The maid entered the room carrying a tray of tea and sweets, she placed it on the low table in front of them and gave a small curtsey before scurrying away.

“Do they always look terrified around you?” He picked up a cup and poured some of the herbal tea in.

“They do not look terrified!” She swatted his arm. “My maids love me, I let them eat sweets with me and I always give them gifts on holidays.”

Rowan’s eyes glittered with laughter, his body relaxing into the sofa. “Well, she looked like she couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“If she looked terrified it’s because you’re in here looking grumpy.” Rowan barked a laugh and Aelin could’ve sworn it was one of the loveliest sounds she had ever heard.

Rowan stayed for another two cups of tea and then politely excused himself, but promising Aelin that he would see her tomorrow for training.

She went to sleep that night, not thinking of her fight with Sam, and the way that they had ended; but of Rowan and those pine green eyes.

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Note

talk to me about king christopher, intentionally or not, helping his two dads figure out they’re in love with each other 🤗 xoxo

cailee, you beautiful wonderful tropical fish, did you know you had a direct line to my soul with asks like this?

There was a very, very good reason that whenever anyone asked Edmundo Diaz about his son, the first word that he used to describe Chris was ‘smart’.

Chris was a caring boy, a kind boy, a kid who had known loss and grief in his life, more than any child should. He had survived earthquakes, tsunamis, surgeries, death, and that had shaped him into a kid that was incredibly sweet, empathetic, but most of all, smart.

Eddie knew it, of course; he was incredibly proud of his son, of the work he did in school, of the friends he made, of the person that he was growing into. Chris was bright, and he was bubbly, and he was whip quick in a way that Eddie sincerely wished he could be an adult, let alone as a kid—but that wit usually came as a double edged sword.

Because as proud as Eddie was of his son, Chris had a knack of thinking circles around everyone, himself included.

Eddie knew when he was being played for extra video game time, and knew damn well when Chris batted his eyes for a sick day from school, but Eddie figured that was about as far as things went. As far as Eddie was concerned, as long as his grades stayed up and he stayed happy with his friends, a little special treatment wouldn’t hurt.

So it only made sense that when Chris decided to wield his powers for good where his father was concerned, Eddie had no idea what was coming.

“Dad, can we go over to Buck’s house to play some video games tonight?”

Eddie smiled, watching Chris tilt his cell phone to get through whatever game he was playing in the rear view mirror as they made the trek home from Abuela’s. He had to admit, while the best possible thing that had come out of him joining the 118 was the easy friendship that he found with Buck, the easy friendship that Chris and Buck seemed to have made was a close second.

“I dunno buddy, Buck might already have dinner plans. Besides, you know it’s rude for us to invite ourselves over.” Eddie said, catching Chris’ eye in at a stoplight. He was thankful for their friendship, of course, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel a little guilty about monopolizing all of Buck’s time when they were both off the clock.

The look Chris gave him was thoroughly unimpressed as he held up Eddie’s phone, speaking like it was actually paining him to have to explain himself. “Dad, Buck was the one who asked. He says we should bring over pizza!”

...okay, Eddie might have felt bad about being attached to Buck at the hip, but that didn’t mean he was about to deny himself the pleasure when Buck was the one to initiate some time together. And Eddie definitely wasn’t going to say no when he knew that Chris was looking forward to spending time with Buck just as much as Eddie was.

Even if Eddie knew he enjoyed Buck’s company for entirely different reasons.

“Hey, thanks for having us over.” Eddie said softly, once pizza had been devoured, and Buck had his ass thoroughly kicked (With Chris, Buck definitely threw his matches—but with Eddie, well, there was no denying the cry of defeat whenever Eddie skimmed past him into first). “Chris loves spending time with you, you make his night whenever he gets to see you.”

Buck grinned back at him, that easy smile that made Eddie’s heart do things he didn’t care to identify as he shrugged his shoulders. “You know I love spending some time with my Diaz boys. This was definitely one of your better ideas.” he said easily, clearing the table, sliding the pizza box into the fridge.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, pausing before any words could come out, a curious look crossing his face. He reached around Buck and grabbed two beers, handing one to Buck after he cracked them open. “You mean, thanks for the pizza. This was your idea, after all.”

It was Buck’s turn to look confused, swallowing a mouthful of beer as he pulled his phone out. “No, Eddie, pretty sure you sending me a message that said ‘game night, we’ll bring pizza’ was pretty clear.”

Eddie blinked as he looked at Buck’s phone—sure enough, the message was there plain as day, and he shot a curious look over to Chris, who was conked out on the couch. Buck followed his gaze, chuckling when he put two and two together, shaking his head. “Hey, go easy on him... after all, it’s not like I had any other plans.”

“Buck...”

“No, I’m serious.” Buck said, his face holding that soft, sweet grin. “After all, it’s... well, I like spending time with you. With, um, both of you I mean.” he murmured over the mouth of his beer bottle, pink raising in his cheeks as Eddie took a swig of his own. He didn’t trust himself to respond and instead linked his ankle with Buck’s beneath the table, trusting the gesture would say enough—and judging by the grin Buck shot him, the message was received loud and clear.

Unseen to either of them, Chris had a small smile on his face, peeking through his lashes as he watched the two from his space on the couch.

In retrospect, Buck probably should have asked what all was entailed in Career Day when Chris asked he and Eddie to show up to his school at 9am.

All he had expected was that he and Eddie would get to show the kids some of their tools, some of their gear, and then answer some questions. What he got was a room full of single moms (and dads) that were looking at Eddie like he was good enough to eat.

Which, let’s be real, Eddie was. Especially when he was partially suited up, PPE from the waist down, a 118 tee shirt, and the thick red suspenders to hold everything together. Saying he looked delicious was selling it short, but that didn’t mean Buck liked a room full of strangers being so blatant about it.

It was all he could do to stand back and not cause a scene as yet another mom walked up to Eddie and put her hand on his bicep, laughing at a joke far too loudly, for far too long. The only saving grace was the look that Eddie shot him while she had her head tossed back, rolling his eyes so hard that Buck thought he was going to hurt himself.

As Chris took his turn and made it up to the front of the class, Buck couldn’t deny feeling a little bit self conscious as he stood beside Eddie.

A room full of parents, with their kids, and then Buck.

He wasn’t jealous, okay?

And even if he was—

“This is my Dad, and this is my Buck! They’re firefighters!”

—Chris knocked that feeling out of him, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as Chris started his presentation. A quick look at Eddie confirmed that he wasn’t the only one who caught the title, and he dipped his head with a little smile, not bothering to hide how pleased he was.

Pleased because he got to be Chris’ Buck. Not pleased because of the disappointed looks that he could see flicker across half of the single parents faces. Nope, that had nothing to do with it, and if it did, it was no secret that Chris was the real source of his joy.

“...they use their trucks and ladders to help keep us safe...”

Chris being an awesome kid was no surprise—Eddie was a great dad, okay?—but Buck still felt lucky that he got to see such a bright kid in his element like this, and even luckier that he got to help out whenever he could. He let his mind wander as Chris continued to speak, treading into dangerous territory. Chris had called him his Buck, so easily, like it was obvious, and for a moment Buck let himself wonder what it would sound like for Eddie to say the same.

“...and they’re super strong, too!”

Chris turned around, looking directly at Eddie, and Buck had to swallow a snort of a laugh as every eye in the room followed him. Eddie, to his credit, tried to save face, nodding his head. “Uh, we... workout every day?” he said, and Chris giggled as he looked over to Buck.

“Dad, you have to show them! Lift Buck up!”

Now it was Buck’s turn to feel every eye swivel over to him, and he was sure his face was bright red in record time. Was this part of the presentation? Did Chris mention this? Buck couldn’t be sure, but honestly, it didn’t exactly sound like something he would have agreed to. He caught Eddie’s eye and shrugged helplessly—after all, Eddie would be the one doing the heavy lifting, it was kind of out of his hands.

After a shared, barely-there nod, Eddie clapped his hands together, turning back to the class. “So, uh, this is called a fireman’s lift. It’s what we do when we have to carry someone out of a burning building, if they can’t walk out on their own. What we do is—“

“Have you ever had to do it before?” A blonde boy asked from the second row, his hand straight up in the air, eyes wide. His father, a corporate manager, didn’t look entirely pleased.

Eddie was all smiles, though, as he nodded and looked over to Buck. “We both have. Our job is to keep people safe, and this is the easiest way to do it.”

The clear hero worship may have helped Eddie become a little more comfortable, but for Buck, the situation didn’t matter—acting as a dead weight was always going to be a little weird. He sighed and opened his arms as Eddie stepped forward, and he was in the air before he could blink. He twisted his body as Eddie lifted so he could still face the class, focusing on Chris’ smile as his world went sideways.

If Buck thought it was awkward before, the dead silence that met him when Eddie spun around with Buck on his shoulders was completely deafening. It was all Buck could do to focus on keeping himself right side up, and not focus on the firm line of Eddie’s shoulders against his side, his strong hands on Buck’s thigh and wrapped around his arm—and thankfully Buck didn’t have long to follow that train of thought before there were twenty kids cheering for them, clapping wildly.

Okay, note to self; if you want to impress a room full of nine year olds, you just had to lift something heavy up.

Buck found himself smiling again, cheeks feeling permanently pink as Eddie brought him back down to the ground, turning to answer a few questions as they were swarmed with tiny bodies. He loved kids, he always had, and he was definitely in his element—but he couldn’t get the thought of Eddie’s hand on his thigh out of his mind.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse when the weight of Eddie’s arm looped around his waist, effectively anchoring him and sending him into another galaxy as Chris’ teacher took a picture of the three of them together.

As Buck leaned into Eddie’s touch, he couldn’t help but look down to Chris, who very much looked like the cat that got the canary—and Buck was content to assume that it was because he obviously had the coolest Career Day presentation.

After all, getting your Dad to deadlift your Buck certainly blew any investment bankers or realty agents out of the water.

“You know, if you actually want to watch a movie, you have to press play on the remote.”

“Shove it, Eds.”

His words were snippy, but Buck was all smiles as Eddie joined him in the loft, plate in hand, passing Buck a burger and a huge plate of chips as he crashed on the couch beside him. Buck had been listening to the menu theme of some action DVD that Chim had picked out for the better part of a half hour as he scrolled through his phone, his attention quickly pulled to the food. “What’s wrong, Bobby kick you off the grill again? Made you realize there was more to life than being a meathead?” Buck said with a teasing smile, and Eddie found himself laughing in spite of himself.

“Well, actually, Carla sent me a few pictures of Chris on his class trip to the zoo today, and I was going to show you, but...”

“Hey, no, what? I think it’s awesome that you’re a middle aged grill dad, you look great with that spatula, now show me the pictures!” Buck said, immediately back tracking, his pride an easy thing to swallow whenever Chris being adorable was involved.

Eddie snorted as he handed over his phone, letting Buck swipe through the photos, and if he happened to be looking at Buck more than he was looking at the photos, well that was his own business. Buck, mercifully, was plenty distracted—the sight of Chris and a peacock would do that to anyone, Eddie had already set it as his wallpaper.

“Eddie, your kid is so fucking cute.” Buck said as he looked back up at Eddie, smiling as he tapped at Eddie’s screen, undoubtedly forwarding a few of the images to his own phone. Buck’s phone was only second to Eddie’s when it came to cute pictures of Chris, and if Eddie had more than three brain cells bouncing around in his skull, he probably would have looked a little more deeply into that.

Eddie pulled his phone back as another message came through, eyes flickering over the text message as Buck took a huge bite of the burger Eddie brought him.

“Hey Buck?”

“Mmmphhgghh?”

“Say cheese.”

“Ehh, muhnuie!”

The picture was pretty disgusting, honestly—Buck had a mouth fit to bursting of burger, sauce and ketchup smeared over his cheek, eyes wide as he turned to the camera. “What? Chris wanted to see what we were doing today.” Eddie said innocently, saving the picture to his camera roll before sending it to Carla’s phone.

“Dad I need selfies of you and Buck!”

The message from Carla came through easy enough, though it was clear that Chris had taken over, and Eddie was still laughing at Buck when he read the message aloud. Buck’s scandalized look didn’t go away as he finally swallowed, and Eddie knew he was in trouble the moment Buck reached for his phone, ready for retaliation.

He couldn’t complain when he suddenly had an arm full of Buck, laughing easily as Buck fired up his selfie camera, but his laughter quickly turned into a sound of absolute horror as he felt ketchup against his cheek when Buck smushed their faces together, camera shutter firing rapidly.

“You are disgusting!” Eddie finally got out between laughs, shoving Buck aside, who looked all too pleased with himself as he furiously tapped at Eddie’s phone, undoubtedly sending the pictures to Carla (and probably Maddie, and Abuela, and maybe his own phone too).

He had to admit, when he finally got his phone back and looked over the pictures, he was a little uncomfortable—not because of the content, but because he had never known he was so fucking obvious when he was looking at Buck. He hadn’t understood the term heart eyes until now, and it kicked his anxiety up just a little bit—he needed to work on his subtlety.

Then again, the next time he caught a glimpse of Buck’s phone, he was stunned to see that the picture of the two of them had made Buck’s wallpaper...

...maybe Chris was on to something with the whole selfies idea.

“Hey Buck?”

“What’s up, bud?”

They had just finished what Buck would not hesitate to call one of the best nights of his life—Eddie and Chris had shown up with a truck packed full of food, blankets, chairs, and a huge, colorful umbrella. Buck had worried that Chris would be less than thrilled to be near the ocean after the tsunami, but his fears were completely misplaced—Chris took to the beach like a crab, and Buck’s heart felt lighter than it ever had every time he heard Chris’ laughter, getting to the point where he actually deleted a few apps from his phone to take some more photos.

The icing on the cake, though, was Chris insisting that Buck could read him his bedtime story that night. Eddie looked completely betrayed, even as he insisted it was fine.

It was fucking hilarious.

“You love me, right?”

Buck felt his brows raise into his hairline, closing the book as he nudged Chris’ shoulders. “Course I love you, buddy. You’re my favorite little man.” He said softly, the initial spike of concern easing in his heart when he watched Chris break out into a grin. He should have known it was a trap, but Chris was so cute, so unassuming, so—

“And you love Daddy too, right?”

—so damn sneaky.

Buck swallowed once he regained his bearings, nodding his head, glad for the dim light of Chris’ room to hide his blush. “Course I do kiddo. You and your dad are both very important to me.” Which, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, if the scrunch of Chris’ face was anything to go by.

“But you love him too, right? You love me and Daddy?”

Putting the long forgotten book down on the night table beside Chris’ bed, Buck pulled his arm around the kid easily, pressing a kiss to his mess of curly hair. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that would come out was the truth. “Yeah, I love you and I love your dad too.” he murmured. It was the first time he had ever said that aloud before—and even as he felt his heart race, he felt lighter, to be able to get that off his chest, a secret that had been heavy on his heart for a long time.

“You should tell him that.”

Buck almost swallowed his tongue. Like he could sense his discomfort, Chris looked up, blinking owlishly without his glasses, a small smile on his lips. “It makes me happy when you tell me you love me. I bet it would make Daddy happy too.” he said with a little shrug, and Buck actually surprised himself with a little laugh.

“How did you get so smart, kid?”

Another kiss goodnight and Buck had the door shut behind him, walking on the balls of his feet as he returned to the kitchen, where Eddie was still scrubbing at a dish—and if that wasn’t enough of a red flag, the red tint to his cheeks and the way he shyly looked up at Buck told him all he needed to know. Shy was just not a typical look for Eddie.

“Edmundo Diaz, were you eavesdropping on your sons bedtime story?” Buck asked, his voice light and teasing, even as his face heated up. If Eddie had been listening in, there was no way to tell just how much he had heard, but while the thought usually pushed Buck into a spiral of despair, all he felt now was a strange sense of warmth.

Eddie looked up at him cautiously, chewing his lip. “What? It’s not my fault, I had to make sure the story you picked was up to his standards, and that you... did all the voices, and—“

“I meant it.”

Wow, fuck, Buck just blurted that out. He felt his jaw clamp shut as Eddie’s gaze snapped to him, Eddie’s eyes as wide as his own.

“Buck...”

“I’m serious, Eddie. I meant it, I... I mean it.” Buck’s feet are moving of his own accord, closing the distance between them until Buck could reach out and touch Eddie if he wanted. Well, if he could get his arms to respond. “You and Chris, you’re the most important people in the world to me, and... and I do, I love you. And I think, I think you love me too.”

Eddie couldn’t think, couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything other than move forward and pull Buck into his space completely. Their first kiss was a little rough—bumped noses, off center, but even then Eddie could feel fireworks—and when they reconnected, when Buck’s lips met his properly, it was all Eddie could do to remain upright.

He kept his hands around Buck when they pulled back to breathe, their foreheads resting against one another, and Eddie’s cheeks were literally hurting he was smiling so hard. Buck’s little laugh was all Eddie could hear, all he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life—so he couldn’t be blamed for failing to hear a pair of little feet leaving the kitchen, back through the hallway, or the nearly silent closing of Chris’ bedroom door.

Chris didn’t need to stick around to see the end result—adults were so gross—but he was pleased enough to see that his hard work and careful planning had paid off, knowing that his dad and his Buck would be happier than ever now that they were finally smooching (even if it had taken forever!).

His dads were a little slow on the uptake sometimes, sure, but that was okay.

After all, Chris would be there to give them a little push whenever they needed.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #chris diaz #chris diaz is a little genius #chris diaz: professional matchmaker #buddie #buddie fic #911 #flospeaks #floanswers #mutually assured devotion #buckleydiazs

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 12

Click here if you are a first time reader.

Summary / TWs: Steve Rogers does not pass the vibe check yet again, le sad face. Loki is a good bro. Bruce fluff but what else is new? Literally everyone is a good bro, yo. Reader has best people. Tony's in there, kind of. Parents still suck.

For taglist: please send an ask if you changed your @! I noticed several people are unavailable :(

As always, my baby gay @miscmarvelwritings is the bestest beta!

"I think I am going to murder your father." Bucky's angry statement didn't surprise me. Neither did Steve's initial reaction, or anybody else's mostly pitying looks.

Bruce, my Bwucie, was calm and dejected. That worried me. I expected him to be at least a little bit green around the edges when Steve forcefully sat me down and made me explain the drunken, drugged stunt I'd done the night before, but alas, it seemed like Jolly Green was just sad. Or disappointed. And I didn't know which was worse.

The more I thought about it, the more defensive and abrasive I became. "And you'll kill yourself trying, he'll drive you fucking nuts" I responded to Barnes. "Honestly, I don't fucking see the problem here. My dad shows up five times a year at best. It's been like that forever. And it's not like I'm some kind of junkie," I defended myself, and my dad, because I really didn't see the huge deal about it. Relaxing once in a while doesn’t hurt anyone.

"It's not right!" Steve exclaimed, loosely banging a fist on the table. The self-righteous prick, seemed like he wanted to pick a fight just for the sake of it.

"And who are you, exactly, to say that? The moral police?" I blew up, standing and turning to the blonde man, hands on my hips. "Or you've decided to be my parent without asking me first? Keep your hopes up and maybe a fuck will magically appear, so I could give it to you."

He stood up in turn, getting uncomfortably close to my face. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that he was a very large, very strong man. "We want what's best for you! Can't you see it?" Rogers was getting red in the face, crossed arms, staring at me down like I was dirt under his shoes.

"How about..." I seethed, having to stop mid-sentence to swallow the scream that wanted to erupt. "How about... You FUCKING ask me what I want?"

"I suggest the Captain leave to go calm down," Loki suddenly piped up. He stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, picking at his food instead. Only after his sharply uttered words I noticed he had stood up. His hand hovered over my shoulder, body discreetly wedging between me and the Captain.

I heard Steve growl before he stormed off, throwing an annoyed look at Loki. A pregnant silence hung in the room. The longer it lasted, the more I wanted to crawl out of my skin, suddenly hyper aware of all these people - strangers, save a few - debating on what to do with me. Like I wasn't a person. Like...

"Ugh, fucking hell," I growled, beelining for my bag. I had definitely overstayed my welcome.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, standing up to follow.

"Home," I replied curtly, nodding my thanks to Loki for the intervention. He nodded back, walking off. I would have probably started swinging at the Icicle Dick if not for the raven haired Asgardian's timely interruption.

"I'll drive you," Banner trotted after me like a dejected puppy. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with this, at all.

"I need to see Tony first. Meet you downstairs?"

Bruce nodded, looking even more confused.

Tony kissed me hungrily, in between promises to kill Steve and cancel my dad and get me my own apartment in the tower. Believing in fairy tales wasn't something I was ever prone to; I smiled, nodded along and did my best to shut him up with my own mouth on his. I left with the promise to text him as soon as I got home.

"How are you?" Bruce asked me as we once again drove through the busy city. This was becoming a nice habit but we really had to meet up when I wasn't going through another one of my turmoils.

"All things considered, I am great. Better than I've been in a while." I answered honestly, meaning it. However brief Tony's attention would be, it still satisfied me. Then and there I decided to always, always cherish what happened during my brief stint in his arms.

"Really?" Banner's warm smile was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. "Care to share?"

It threw me for a loop. I didn't know how much Tony wanted to disclose regarding what happened between us. I didn't know the extent of his friendship with Bruce. I didn't know...

"Tony," I choose the usual option. Admit what you can't deny, deny what you can't admit.

"I know the feeling," The good doctor chuckled, companionable-like and meaningful. "He tends to go all the way for the people he cares about. Too much, if you ask me."

"What do you mean?" I was confused. Sure, me and Tony were friends. But not, like, super close or anything. We'd fucked, or more like messed around, so I expected our friendship to grow colder. That's what happened when friends decided to bump uglies.

"I mean... He'll move mountains and challenge the government and bully them into dropping charges against you," There was a hint of sadness in Brucie's voice. I vaguely recalled seeing something on the news, something about the Hulk and a massive destruction spree. It didn't take long to put two and two together.

I reached out, putting a hand on his knee. He covered my palm with his own, giving it a brief, warm squeeze.

"It must be great having a friend like that. You're both wonderful and brilliant. You deserve no less," The smile threatened to split my face in two.

Bruce returned the smile but the sadness didn't go away. "You realize that extends to you, right?"

"Me? I'm just me, Bruce." I wasn't sure where this was going. "I'm Peter's classmate and the resident hot mess express."

Bruce frowned, deep and long, up until he parked. Life seemed to be taking back all the happiness it gave me previously-in fucking buckets. The strap of my bag was going to get its threads pulled out with the way I was fiddling with it.

"Baby… Princess?" The scientist turned to me, tone torn somewhere between stern and pleading. "Listen to me. You are brilliant. Incredibly smart, talented and beautiful. Don't ever, ever think of yourself as less than any of us." I gaped at him.

Did he mean us as the Avengers? Us as Tony and Bruce? Meanwhile he continued, "In fact, I think you are the one who deserves so much better. I don't know what Tony found in me… Or what you found in me."

Was the man an idiot or yes? That was the question of the day. Cursing Tony's affinity for small cars (bless me and my own SUV), I only hesitated a moment before grabbing the dumb Banner by his face and startling him into looking straight in my eye. "If you don't quit talking all that fake-ass bullshit, I will kiss you. On the mouth. With tongue."

"Uh," Was his articulate response. I watched him squirm, blush and lose the heat to his argument.

"Exactly. I've had it all with you idiots today. Next time someone says some stupid ass fucking thing, I will kiss them. On the mouth, with tongue. Pass it on," I exhaled, releasing his face and dropping my head onto his shoulder.

"Some way of solving conflict you have," Banner chuckled weakly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I'd like to see Steve's reaction."

"A boner, probably, because he needs to get laid before he spontaneously combusts," I grumbled venomously, still bitter about his reaction. The Capsicle needed to chill. Hehe.

"I'll pass it on too," Bruce remarked wryly. "See you next week?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Bwucie, you're the fucking best," I kissed the scientist on the cheek, giving him a tighter than usual parting hug and walking up the pathway. Home.

Mother was nowhere to be seen - and the obvious reason for that laid on the kitchen floor. Couple of smashed dishes, a bottle of whiskey laying half-empty in a puddle on the grey tiles. The living room rug bore more stains and the smell of alcohol, bitter and acrid (like my soul, hardy har), hung heavily throughout the whole house.

At least I wasn't the only one who fought for myself that day. Mother probably had landed a good one on dad, too, by God the woman could be ruthless with her icy words. Dad never stood a chance. I've felt begrudgingly respectful of the way mother put people in their place with her words ever since I understood sarcasm.

First things first, I cleaned up the mess and opened the windows a smidge, cranking the air recuperation system to the max. Hanging around a place that smelled like a bum on a good Friday night was a horrible way to spend free time. Having successfully cut myself and bandaged the cuts up, I retreated to my room, not wanting to spend more time than necessary in the quiet, stinky, creepy house that my home had become.

My phone was long dead so I plugged it in, waiting for the 2% to appear, turning it on. A few messages from Peter, first cheerful, then worried and then relieved. Tony must've placated the spider child and told him I was staying at the tower. Good call, Tones, or else poor Peter would've worked himself into an anxiety attack and crashed in a dumpster while patrolling. Or something. I still didn't quite get his spider-hero side-gig.

A text from Bruce - rather, a photo, of a disgruntled Steve with his eyebrows raised, titled "I told him the next time he freaks out, you will kiss him. With tongue. Barnes cackled for about ten minutes until he ran out of air."

And a text from Tony. My chest tightened when I opened it. "Good tactics. Sneaky, clever, I'd give it a B+."

I snorted. Then the phone beeped again and I froze. A text ordering me to be ready tomorrow, for a date night? Unreal. I was torn. A part of me was elated, thinking Tony wanted to keep me around like that. The other, more sensible part, was firmly telling me to chill TF down. He'll most likely kindly reject any further intimate interactions, maybe have me sign a few NDAs.

I still answered positive, mushy and cute and all. Feelings aside, I wasn't about to change my texting style for any man. My God, I was turning into a monster. A horribly cheesy, pink, soft, fluffy monster.

The next day, school was nearly unbearable. People talked. Not to my face, of course, since the rumours of me putting away Flash Thompson were still fresh enough for everyone to be cautious around me, but the whispers followed me throughout hallways, tongue in cheek remarks thrown at me from the bathroom stalls, behind the teacher's desks. Did I care? Nope.

Okay, I did, but not in the way one would think. The little spring in my step, a slight smirk. My thoughts were occupied with my upcoming dinner with Tony.

Peter and his pet nerds stood at my side, the ever watchful guards. I had no idea why they decided I needed reassurance or their comfort (I did not), but I had to admit it was cute. MJ, in particular, glared her Death Ray Stare at any male-identifying student that dared to as much as look wrongly in my direction. I mostly ignored the trio. Pete himself did a great job with entertaining his friends, he babbled on as usual, about everything and nothing in particular. Mouth ulcers. He was going to get them one day.

Dad called me during third period, saying he was flying off to California. I would have been lying if I said I didn't know why he scheduled the sudden trip; mother's total radio silence and the absence of her laptop in her own office spoke volumes about the state of my family's affairs. They had a fight and ran off to the opposite ends of the continent. I didn't understand why mother was upset with me, though. I saved her face during dinner at Tony's, so why is she mad about me going to a party with dad? Baffling woman.

Admitting the house felt like home when either of them were absent was hard. Or, perhaps, I felt nothing at all. Spending so much time around the Brady Bunch- the Avengers made me too soft for my own liking. It wasn't just Tony that lived in mind rent-free all the time now; there was Bruce, with his kindness, Bucky with his overgrown teenager attitude, Wanda with her wit and hair that smelled like cheap shampoo - seriously, I absolutely had to show her the benefits of decent hair products. That was just to list the few little quirks. There were so many people, all of them different and wonderful in their own way.

To summarize it, I was both happy for them and bitter for not having any of that to myself. Although it made me kind of glad I didn't have a sibling - looking after someone in the mess that mother and dad created would've been a nightmare. They say it's always a better place where we are not.

I went through a whole pack of cigarettes in a span of a couple of hours. Plagued by strangely melancholic thoughts, trying to push down the anxiety over my upcoming date, my choice of outfit proved to be a cumbersome task while in process.

Expensive but simple dress with spaghetti straps, in my favourite colour. That was the easiest part. A good base for any accessories. Would Tony like it? Would the press make outrageous comments?

Either way, it would. Dad's comments cut deeper than I probably realized it until now; in a sudden bout of self-awareness and a couple of mouse clicks later... Tony wouldn't care. Tony wears suits with sneakers. The Manolos flew back, towards my shoe closet, and a pair of Chanel trainers made their debut. A Hermes 2002 barely weighed down by my wallet, keys and phone. A nice coat, too, appropriately light and so very conceptual and fashionable.

I spent way too much time deciding on what to wear. A stern talking to, however, didn't help me, and I had to redo my make-up - the "nude", "all natural" look was one of the hardest to nail. Or so Marie Claire said. Whatever, my highlighter game was, as usual, on point.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)!

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

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wizardofrozz · 3 years

Text

Prompt 5: Hell

Sam Winchester, Crowley, implied Dean Winchester x Castiel

Word Count: 2,082

Warnings: swearing, violence, grief, blood

Dean threw the church doors open, and his only thought was to find Sam. He did a double-take when his eyes caught Crowley in the fetal position on the floor, but he shook it away. He sprinted across the room, searching like a mad man through the discarded pews and destroyed confessionals for any sign of his baby brother.

“Sam!” Dean screamed, throwing chunks of wood haphazardly. “No, no, no….” Blinding panic roared in his veins, his hands shaking so bad he couldn’t properly grab at anything. “Sammy!” Dean paced back and forth, kicking at stray pieces of debris, his hand moving to tug on his hair as tears welled in his eyes. “SAM!”

The decision to slam the gates of Hell had been an easy one for the younger Winchester; he didn’t care what it cost him if it meant millions of people would be safe. Just before finishing the final trial, Sam could feel it; he could feel the trials killing him, but he didn’t care. He found peace in knowing his soul would find happiness in Heaven, and one day his brother would join him. The final words rang out, loud and strong after Crowley’s last injection; Sam dropped to his knees, smiling at the ceiling despite the cell-deep agony tearing through him.

The first thing his brain recognized was the sweltering heat that seeped in the marrow of his bones. The agonizing wails were the next thing to register; the sound resonated in his head, making him coil in on himself, but his arms didn’t move. Sam tugged, but something was holding his wrists and ankles down, and that’s when the fear set in.

“Well, well, well,” a throaty voice sang. “Someone’s coming around.” Sam’s eyes shot open, snapping around the dim room; his hazel eyes dropped down to the figure across the room. Their dark form shifted and twisted before his eyes, their face coming into focus the longer he stared. If it wasn’t for staring into Lucifer’s true face for hundreds of years, Sam was sure the demon’s face would’ve terrified him. Once the thought crossed his mind, realization slammed into him, forcing his eyes to open wider.

“No,” Sam whispered.

“Oh yes,” the demon hissed. “Did you really think you’d go to paradise after slamming the doors? Hm?”

“Bite me,” Sam barked, lunging as far forward as he could.

“Oh, darling, I’m going to do much worse than that,” the demon laughed, slithering across the room. The bottomless pits the demon called eyes trailed over Sam’s body, and he could’ve sworn the demon looked in awe. “I don’t know how I managed to get the Boy King on my rack, but I couldn’t be happier.”

“I’ve been tortured by the devil himself,” Sam laughed bitterly. “What can you do to me?”

“Whatever I want,” the demon snarled, its rancid breath curling around Sam as it loomed over him. “And nothing is stopping your soul from twisting and warping this time.” The demon’s manic laughter echoed off the wall, mingling with Sam’s screams as it made the first cut.

Cas would disappear for weeks, leaving Dean alone in the eerie silence of the bunker. He knew he couldn’t follow Cas to Heaven, but that didn’t stop the aching loneliness from settling around him like a thick fog.

“Ah! Squirrel.” Dean jumped at Crowley’s voice, shuffling up to sit properly in his seat; he scrubbed at his face before looking in the direction of the ex-demon’s voice.

“Crowley,” Dean grunted.

“Feathers still off on his mission above?” Crowley dropped into the chair on Dean’s left; it was still unsettling to see Crowley in anything other than a three-piece suit, looking more human than ever.

“Yeah,” Dean hummed, crossing his arms on the library table. “This is the last trip. If he can’t find Sam’s soul, it’s not in Heaven.” Dean tried not to dwell on the thought, but it was getting harder and harder to look at the bright side.

“Are you ready to accept if he’s not there?” Crowley whispered, dropping his gaze. The hunter’s head snapped up, ready to tear into the other man, but he deflated when he caught the unfamiliar pained expression on Crowley’s face.

“I don’t know,” Dean whispered honestly. If Sam’s soul wasn’t in Heaven, that left only one place it could be, and it made him want to blow chunks. The library fell silent, and every pop and groan of the bunker sounded like bombs going off; Dean’s ringtone pierced through the room, almost sending Dean tumbling out of his chair. “Heya Cas.”

“Hello Dean,” Cas sighed. Dean could hear the rumble of Cas’ truck in the background and his heart sank to his feet.

“He’s not there,” Dean mumbled absently.

In a desperate attempt to save the world from Abaddon, in between scouring the Earth for a way to find Sam, Dean shouldered Cain’s burden. The Mark of Cain was like an itch Dean couldn’t scratch; a constant ache under his skin that screamed for murder. Dean’s fingers spun the beer bottle on the table, the ring of condensation making it glide easily against the wood. The only indication that he didn’t hear Cas’ approach was a twitch in his finger; Cas’ warm hand cupped the back of his neck, nimble fingers massaging away the tension at the base of his skull.

“I think I’ve found a way into Hell,” Cas whispered, his grip on Dean’s neck tightening.

Cas peaked around the corner, waving Dean on when he found the hall empty; the pair crept down the hall, their heads on a swivel.

“Dean Winchester.” Dean jolted upright, turning slowly towards the voice, swallowing the sigh to match Cas’. He could see the outline of at least another 15 demons in the shadows at the end of the hall, and the Mark screamed, nearly pulling him down the hall.

“Where’s my brother?”

“Ballsy to demand answers when your outnumbered,” the demon snorted, crossing its arms.

“Have you met us?” Dean huffed, spinning the angel blade in his hand. He didn’t waste another second, and Cas followed close behind; they bobbed and weaved, dodging punches and slamming their blades home. Dean ducked as Cas jammed his blade through the chin of a demon sneaking up behind him.

“Enough!” The hallway fell silent, aside from Dean and Cas’ labored breathing, as the fighting came to an abrupt halt. Dean squinted at the figure moving through the shadow at the end of the hall; he glanced over at Cas, who only shrugged and turned back to the approaching figure.

“And who the hell are you,” Dean snapped, straightening his shoulders. The figure stopped at the edge of the shadow, its head tilting slightly.

“I’m hurt, Dean,” the demon chuckled. “I thought you’d recognize me.” Dean took a closer look, but their features were too dark to make out anything. The man looked relaxed; the lapels of his coat flared out where his hands were stuffed in his pockets; Dean’s eyes moved higher over the stupidly tall figure, stopping at his head. He could make out the swoops of hair around the man’s shoulders, but the most striking thing was the outline of a crown perched on the top of his head.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. “Who are you.” The man chuckled, lifting one left dramatically before stepping into the light of the hallway; his head dropped down to his left with a cocky grin twisting across his face. All the blood drained from Dean’s face, his body suddenly feeling too hot and too cold; Cas gasped from behind him, taking a step back.

“Surprise,” Sam chuckled, lifting his head, black eyes staring back at them.

“S-Sam,” Cas croaked, sniffling softly.

“Ah, Cas,” Sam hummed, smirking at the angel, blinking his hazel eyes back.

“Get out of my brother,” Dean growled, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Dean,” Cas whispered. “That is Sam.”

“No, no, that’s bullshit,” Dean stuttered, shaking his head violently.

“Is it?” Sam snorted, tilting his head again. “I mean, I was destined to be the Boy King of Hell.” Sam’s smile looked more like a snarl, and it made Dean’s skin crawl; that wasn’t the boyish smile of his little brother anymore. “Since you’re here, I should probably thank you.”

“What,” Dean stuttered, glancing at Cas again.

“Well, you opened the gates of Hell for me,” Sam laughed, slowly wandering closer. “I didn’t even have to do anything.” Sam continued forward, his hazel eyes shifting back and forth between Dean and Cas; the demons still hovering nearby moved away. “On top of that, you even made my reign easier!” Sam smiled again, and it was so painfully familiar, Dean felt the ache of grief in his chest.

“What do you want from us?” Cas snarled next to Dean’s ear.

“You,” Sam replied, licking his lips. Dean spun on his heels when Cas groaned; two demons stood over the angel, holding him on his knees. The older Winchester turned on his brother again, his dull green eyes pleading, yearning for a tiny bit of the old Sam to still be in there.

“Sam, please,” Dean cried softly, fight the tears threatening to roll down his face.

“Oh, brother,” Sam cooed, stepping into Dean’s personal space. He flinched when Sam’s giant hand rested on his cheek, but his touch was gentle. “Do you really think I don’t know about the Mark?”

“No!” “What about it?” Cas and Dean talked over each other; Cas struggled, but the demons held strong.

“I originally thought you were going to be useless to me but now? Now I have something the kings before me didn’t,” Sam whispered, his thumb brushing against Dean’s stubble.

“Please!” Cas cried, grunting and struggling against the iron grip on his arms.

“I’m gonna have an angel under my thumb,” Sam started, glancing over Dean’s shoulder.

“Cas will never work for you,” Dean cut in, glaring at Sam.

“How cute,” Sam chuckled, patting his brother’s cheek. “You think he has a choice.” Sam nodded at someone over Dean’s head, and when he tried to look, Sam’s hand closed around his chin, yanking his head back to face him. “And on top of my angel, I’ll have my own personal Knight.”

“Knight?” Dean managed through his puckered lips.

“I wish I was surprised at how stupid you can be,” Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. “When you die, the Mark will bring you back as one of the most powerful demons: A Knight of Hell. Sooo, aside from bringing me an angel I can twist and shape, you gave me a Knight! Thank you, brother.”

“Don’t do this,” Dean whispered, blinking hard at the burning in his eyes. Sam looked over his head again, and his face darkened, a twisted smile spreading across his face.

“Sh, watch the show,” Sam whispered, turning Dean to face Cas. The angel was bucking and screaming, trying to whip his head back and forth away from the bleeding wrist of the demon looming over him. Despair flared up in Dean’s heart, tears steadily rolling down his face as he watched the demon jerk Cas’ head back by a fist full of hair; blood smeared across Cas’ lips as he choked on it, letting out a low distressed sound. The demon clapped a hand over his mouth when he removed his wrist, hissing something in the angel’s ear. Cas slumped back on his knees, his head hanging and his shoulders pitching up with each inhale when the demon released him.

Cas finally lifted his head, bearing his blood-stained teeth, and locking eyes with Sam over Dean’s shoulder. “Fuck you, Sam Winchester.”

“I’ll pass,” Sam chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to make my brother jealous; you are his angel.” Dean slumped back against his brother, his expression broken and empty. Cas retched forward, crying out and panting, his body convulsing. “Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll still let you have your fun with the angel as long as you behave.” Sam’s breath puffed against his ear, and he felt his heart shatter in his chest; he didn’t even realize Sam had shifted behind him. “See you soon.”

Dean gasped when the blade pierced his back; he looked down at the angel blade protruding from his chest before shifting his gaze back to Cas. Steadily dulling blue eyes were the last thing he saw before everything went black and his body hit the floor.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld

#supernatural #spn #spncreatorsdaily #destiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #boyking!sam #king of hell #moc!dean #halloween #hell #spooktober #crowley #human!crowley #demon!dean

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

Text

Too Close For Comfort pt.1

>>>Read on AO3<<<

I wanted to take a short break from writing canonverse, and luckily I had an idea to write. In most EM fics, Eren and Mikasa get together as adults (if at all ;( ) and the story usually ends with them realizing their love. So I thought, what if they were better at talking and were together for a looooong time? What if they weren't two lonely souls but the annoying couple that is pissing everyone off by being so in love with one another? Well... :D This first part is mostly world-building to establish the AU setting, the second part will be focused on the perils of their friends who have to deal with Eren and Mikasa being hopelessly in love since childhood. Hopefully you'll like it :)

Mikasa and Eren are nine years old when they first confess their love to each other.

Each confession is for a different reason, as the two lifetime neighbors both experienced an event that made them reconsider what they felt towards their childhood friend.

Eren was teased by Jean again, and when the guy said that he had “A hundred girlfriends already.”, he was flabbergasted.

“Where did you get them?”, Eren asked, but all Jean did was a smirk.

“As if I would ever tell a virgin like you.”

Which presented a new problem, because Eren had no idea what a virgin is. He knew that his mother used virgin oil sometimes, but the logical part of his brain argued that Jean was hardly talking about that. So, he asked the smartest guy he knew. Armin explained that a virgin is a person who didn’t have sex yet, but that didn’t help.

“What is sex?”, Eren wanted to know.

“N-Nothing important.”, Armin stuttered, “Don’t worry about it.”

Telling Eren Yeager not to worry about something is practically beginning him to search for it. So, he asked the second smartest person he knew. Grisha spat out the coffee he was drinking when Eren asked, telling him to ask his mother. Carla went white in the face and demanded to know where Eren heard it. Not about to snitch on Armin, he lied that he heard it in school, so Carla frowned and said: “We will tell you when you get older.”

Nuh-uh.

It was risky, but Eren managed to google sex during a computer class, and what he found made his eyes go wide. It also greatly increased his respect towards Jean, if he was able to do it with a hundred girls already he must be quite a specimen. The respect was tainted by a large dose of jealousy. If Jean was able to get a hundred girls, why couldn’t Eren get even one? That wasn’t fair.

And thinking about it, about a girl he would like to be close to, Mikasa was an obvious answer.

Mikasa’s confession was fueled by a movie. It was R-rated, and she watched it in secret so her parents wouldn’t know. There was a lot of blood and death, but what traumatized her was the romance between the main cast. The girl was forced to kill her lover in the end, saving the world but dooming their love in the process. Mikasa cried her eyes out at that, so sad about the tragic and unfair world, and it got her thinking too. Who was a guy that she would never like to kill? Someone that she cared for a lot and would like to be more than friends with? The answer was easy.

When they met the next day, both had a confession ready, so they went to sit under the tree where they often played, staring anywhere but at each other.

“I... I need to tell you something.”, Eren finally pushed out.

“Me too. Uhm, do you want to go first?”

“No, let’s do it at the same time, okay?”

“Okay…”

3.2.1..

“I love you Mi-…”

“Eren, I love y-…”

Now they were staring at each other, cheeks flushed. Talk about a coincidence. They spent a lot of time together as always, and when Eren came home, he puffed out his chest and walked to his parents.

“I have a girlfriend now.”

Zeke, who was visiting from college, laughed and high-fived him, Grisha’s eyebrows rode so high that they disappeared into his hairline, and Carla was worried sick until Eren told them that it’s Mikasa.

“Oh good.”, she reached down, ruffling his hair, “I’m happy for you, sweetie.”

Mikasa had a much colder time at home because Levi threatened to kill that guy, her father was silent and her mother rubbed her pregnant belly, sighing.

“Are you sure that you want to get into this business so young?”, she asked.

But Mikasa wouldn’t budge, and her parents knew better than to try and convince her. Even Levi backed down because Mikasa said that if he harms Eren she will never talk to him again.

And just like that, they were dating.

It didn’t change much at first. Eren announced it out loud at school to Jean, who frowned and said whatever.

“She looks weird anyway.”, he scoffed, “Her eyes are slanted and her skin too pale, my girlfriends are much prettier.”

That was enough to make Eren jump him in defense of Mikasa’s honor, and the teacher had to separate them. Eren got a bleeding nose and a written notice to his parents, but he couldn’t care less. In his vicinity, not Mikasa slander would be tolerated.

Years went by.

They shared their first kiss at eleven, but it was strange and not very enjoyable.

“Are we doing it the right way?”, Eren wondered, unsure why would the adults ever bother with it.

“I think so, it looked like this in all the movies.”, Mikasa said, somewhat disappointed.

“Maybe it will get better when we are older.”, Eren offered, “We can just stick to hand-holding till then, you like that, right?”

Mikasa blushed and nodded, so he grabbed her hand and they headed to Armin’s house, kiss almost forgotten.

It took two years before they started the whole kissing thing again, and Eren was right. It did get better with age. It was also around that time when he started noticing things. He knew that Mikasa is pretty, but as she was growing up he had to reconsider that statement. Mikasa was much more than pretty, she was beautiful. At the age of thirteen, it didn’t mean much, only that he was more and more proud of his girlfriend.

Another two years passed, and things were starting to get heated.

Mikasa got into the whole goth thing, wearing black and whatnot, she even tried getting Eren into it. Unsuccessfully, but he always allowed her to try her make-up on him, or dressed as she wanted sometimes to appease her. He did like how she looked though, the dark makeup and black lipstick suited her, not even mentioning that fishnets and chokers were hot as fuck

She got her cartilages pierced and added piercings to her earrings, another thing that Eren was too scared to try. They would get a tattoo together, he promised, but had to wait till eighteen because Carla was strictly against it.

The kissing got even better, and now Eren’s hands were roaming all over her body while he was doing it. Mikasa also did her part of groping, and the young couple was slowly but surely edging towards the one thing all parents fear. Intimacy.

More and more often, Eren was coming home with face covered in black lipstick smudges. A lot of love bites bloomed on Mikasa’s pale neck and trying to hide it with her red scarf didn’t help. Their parents noticed, and they did not like what they saw.

Grisha tried to have “the talk” with Eren while taking him on a fishing trip, but Zeke tagged along and was ruining it with his goofy faces and bad-timed laughter. In the end, when Grisha got the message across to the red-faced Eren, Zeke pulled out a pack of condoms and threw them at his brother.

“It’s dangerous to go alone.”, he said dramatically, “Take this.”

Grisha hit him over the head for that, but to Zeke, it was totally worth it.

Mikasa got the talk too, first from her mother and then from Levi, who sat on her bed and described in detail all the ways he’s going to kill Eren if he ever does anything inappropriate to her. She threw him out of her room, slammed the door and that was it.

Despite all the good-natured warnings, and Levi’s threats, they began easing into it at sixteen. Mikasa sneaked into Eren’s room, because she could climb the tree next to his window without breaking a sweat, and their classic make-out session was interrupted when Eren’s hand slipped under her black panties.

“Can I…?”, he asked in a weak voice, but Mikasa found herself wanting it.

She watched so many romantic movies, Twilight being one of her favorites, and the physical romance was always glossed over. She wanted to experience it herself. And honestly? It was pretty good, being touched by Eren. Just like that, the gates sprang open and warnings of parents were forgotten.

They experimented at first. Hands touched, mouths kissed, tongued swiped over. Internet was a great teacher because for once Eren didn’t feel like asking Armin about the stuff. And they found their way.

Mikasa and Eren had sex for the first time at the age of seventeen, tipsy from Jean’s house party but not too drunk to not know what they are doing. It was okay but not as mind-blowing as Mikasa wanted it, and Eren promised that they would get better at this.

And they did, both eager to do so. Eren now had black lipstick not only on his face, but around his crotch too, and Mikasa’s love bites spread from her neck to her thighs.

On a nice day, when the sun was out and the neighbors got together for a small party, Grisha was manning the grill alongside Mr. Ackerman, the two of them having a beer and overall a nice time. Eren and Mikasa were doing their usual thing, which meant sitting in a corner with her on his lap, sharing kisses and giggles, and overall just ignoring the rest of the world. Next to them, Armin was with the rest of the kids, the whole group doing their best to not be weirded out. Then again, they kinda got used to it at this point. Seeing it all, Grisha couldn’t help but wonder out loud to his neighbor and friend.

“Do you think that our children are having sex?”

Taking a swig of his beer, Mikasa’s father wanted to deny it, but deep in his heart knew that he could not.

“I just hope that Levi won’t find out.”, he said, making Grisha laugh.

When eighteen and college hit, Eren fulfilled his promise and they got a matching tattoo together, wings on their backs. Going to the same college, of course, they rented an apartment because being separated by dorms was too much of a pain for the pair. Everything was great, everything was perfect, and the couple couldn’t be happier.

But did their friends feel the same way?

#eremika #fanfic #snk

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jiminsfault · 4 years

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Gamin’ for love 0.1 | jkk

— pairing: gamer!Jungkook x escort!reader

— genre: smut, angst, a little fluff, crack maybe

— word count: 8.5k

— summary: if love was a game, even Jungkook wouldn’t know how to win. Ordering an escort might help.

— warnings: a lot of mentions of dick and pussy, Jungkook being a horny airhead, oral (f), dom!Jungkook, mentions of sex work, name calling, degradation, cursing, protected sex, fingering, squirting, he’s wearing a condom but he’s pulling out, Jungkook being sad, mentions of pathological liars, manipulation, emotional attachment, emotional unavailability, truth hurts should be the title track of this

— A/N: this was supposed to be a pwp but I did an oopsie :~) I hope you'll enjoy! The second part will come out soon.

— Special thanks to Heath (@maptoyoongi) for helping me so much with this fic, I honestly wouldn’t have been able to do it without her. I love you boo❤️

moodboard | part one | part two | masterlist

Jungkook often felt lonely. His profession being a twitch streamer meant constantly sitting in his dark room, playing his favorite games and entertaining others, not making for a lot of free time or opportunities to leave the house and socialize.

He rarely got to meet up with friends because of the lack of those, which meant that he rarely got to go out and meet a few new lady friends. After his relationship three summers ago failed at just four months, let’s just say; his soul hasn’t been very happy.

Neither has his dick.

Granted, Jungkook realizes that he could’ve done a lot of things differently to change the outcome of things, he just didn’t at that time.

He’s sad, to say the least. Yes, he’s glad that he can just turn on his webcam and play video games to earn his pay. But constantly being hunched over a keyboard or a controller isn’t helping the state of his dick.

The important part of a relationship shouldn’t be just sex, he constantly hears from his best friend, a chaotic author, who’s always screaming about the newest drafts he wrote down on his travel with the subway. A lot about sex as well, so Jungkook doesn’t really get his point there.

If sex wasn’t as important, why always write about it?

“It’s just fulfilling fantasies, stoopid!” It’s always the same thing. “It’s not there to be realistic! You can’t just go get coffee and meet a girl that’s willing to go home with you and fuck! It’s not meant to be realistic!”

Jungkook isn’t happy with that at all. He doesn’t have time to invest into a relationship. Neither motivation. The break up three years ago has left him with trust issues after he caught her cheating on him. Seeing the messages of one of his own best friends on his girl’s phone wasn’t really the greatest of feelings.

The reason why his ex cheated on him was because the nineteen year old teenager couldn’t stop playing video games. He didn’t pay enough attention to her, she wasn’t feeling appreciated. So she got it from someone who was willing to give up his time for her.

But guess what? The twenty-two year old manchild still can’t stop playing video games! And the fact that Jungkook’s stream blew up one day and from then on money was made easily, didn’t help that at all.

It would just be the same outcome anyway, if he tried to get into dating again. Girls always complain about these kind of habits, not paying attention to them and such.

“If you just want to get some pussy, then a girlfriend shouldn’t be what you’re looking for,” his friend states. “Fucking pay for it like everybody else does!”

And that’s how that happened.

It was just a little click, he guessed. The idea wasn’t bad, paying to see some pussy. It’s what he wants and he has the money.

It’d save time too, no going out and finding a pretty girl to talk to. He wouldn’t get a guarantee for sex from the girls in the clubs or bars either. It’s a 50/50, going out and trying to flirt.

Jungkook has never been that kind of dude, too, just going up to a girl and flirting with her. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be successful.

So it just made sense to him, paying to get his dick wet.

It’s decided, he thought. He pushed himself off of the couch and made his way to find his phone with a bounce in his step. It was still laying on the kitchen counter, left there from earlier when Jungkook made himself some ramen noodles. The gamer life, he guessed.

“How do I google this, now?” he murmured into the empty room. Shrugging, he decided to just go crazy and went with the first thing that popped up when typing in ‘escort girls’.

WE HAVE THE BEST PICK OF THE BEST BITCHES IN TOWN! IT’S YOUR DECISION! ;)

Is what greets Jungkook instead of their website. He just wants the phone number, goddamn.

After closing all of the annoying porn bot ads, he finally found the number, copy pasted it into his phone and went on dial.

“Hello, Aphrodite’s Erotes on the phone, how can we serve you today, Sir?” a warm, female voice greeted him.

“Uuh, I would just like to pay to see some pussy I guess, hah” Jungkook laughed. How else would he approach this?

The warm voice giggled, obviously not expecting somebody to order an escort in such a way.

“Do you have any preferences? We have thick girls, skinny girls, tall girls-” she starts to count out the different varieties of girls, but Jungkook only furrows his brows.

“I really don’t mind any. Just has to have a cute pussy, I guess.” the woman on the phone hummed in acknowledgement and asked Jungkook to wait a little, she would check for available girls.

“Would you mind telling us your address and name? We’d send her on her way then. Y/N is said to have the best services we can provide.”

With bulging eyes and maybe already a little bit of a bulging dick, Jungkook confirms his personal information and couldn’t believe he was actually going through with this.

After five years of sad dick life, he was finally going to dunk into the sweet juices of a wonderful female being. A wonderful female being with the name Y/N, who was going to grace his ugly one bedroom apartment in less than thirty minutes, if the woman with the warm voice on the phone told the truth.

Then it hit him; he still had to clean up. No, he wouldn’t need to make a good impression on this escort but he’d at least want the girl that’s blessing his dick with her presence to be comfortable around his place.

“If I go around in zoom zoom speed, maybe I’ll make it in time!” Jungkook was confident he’d make his chaos disappear before you arrived.

Additionally, he still had to shower as well, he’s been neglecting that a little over the last five days. So that’ll be the first thing, the apartment can wait.

You couldn’t judge him for that though, he is a very busy man, constantly having to cook up ramen between gaming streams and Netflix marathons.

Yes, he has to admit he does keep himself fit in the gym too, how else would he still be able to move with the way he’s eating? it’s just that he likes to seem like a pig when describing his life sometimes.

Constantly having a conscious eye on the clock, he was getting himself a little clean around the edges, he blow dried his hair until it wasn‘t dripping onto his white, a little tight tshirt anymore. He threw on his favorite grey sweatpants and went commando under it. He doesn’t expect to need any underwear anyway.

Jungkook was nervous, to say the least. He never ordered an escort and he doesn’t even know if he’s a good fuck; his last time was so long ago, he actually couldn’t remember if he made his ex girlfriend cum that last night. Perhaps that’s why she broke up with him?

Actually, his ex did tell him that he was the worst fuck she ever had, she told him that if he would’ve at least had a good game in bed, maybe she wouldn’t have to cheat. Yeah, that hurt a lot. Didn’t really help with his insecurities either. Yikes.

There wasn’t much more time to dwell on the thought, his doorbell rang the usual tone and while rubbing his hands around each other he walked over to the door.

What would you look like? Suddenly he feels like it’s christmas morning and he’s getting the present he's been begging for all year. He couldn't wait to unwrap your beautiful body.

His nervousness slowly began to dwell down and excitement took over his form. He hoped you would be nice, he couldn’t bare if you were mean about his dick or the way his apartment looks.

Maybe you’d like to watch some Netflix with him? Is that included in paying for an escort?

Jungkook shook his head, the fluffy, a little longer and still damp hair swinging with the motion.

Deep breath, in and out. He can do this, it’s just sex. Right? Opening the door in the most casual way he could and leaning against the frame, it is.

When his eyes meet yours, he’s stunned. You looked breathtaking, to say the least. Your hair was pretty and your make up seemed to be just light and natural, the dress you wore layed smooth across your skin and enhanced your beautiful curves.

Maybe Jungkook felt his dick twitch a little when his eyes zeroed in on your boobs, they were squished together by the dress and the way it was cut just added to expose them.

But the highlight was definitely your face, the prettiest girl he might ever have seen just stood in front of him. The way you smiled at him softly and put your hand up to wave at him was cute, but at the same time the sexiest thing a woman had ever done.

“You must be Jungkook?” you asked, your voice sending him up into heaven, as well as his dick.

“Hell yeah.” His eyes glossed over as he lost focus while staring at you and he doesn’t realize his reply. What he does pick up is your giggle, god does your giggle sound angelic.

“Do you wanna pay me for standing outside of your door or are you gonna let me in?” Is what ripped him out of his cloudy state.

“Uh.. yes, yeah of course, come in.” At that you took a step towards him and he opened the door wider to make the way.

A few quiet moments went by as you sauntered around his living room, taking a peek at the kitchen and then turning around to look at Jungkook with an expecting expression.

“So, where do you want me?” you purr, giving him an alluring gaze and your most subtle smile you could manage. You found it quite funny, the way he was acting. He clearly hasn’t had an escort over before, otherwise he wouldn’t just stand around and stare at you like a deer caught in the headlight.

“Wh- oh, uh,” he stammered. Where does he want you? His gaze crossed the room. Did you not want to get to know him first?

You realised that he’s unsure of what to do, so you walk over and take his hand in your own to pull him towards the small corridor with two closed doors.

“Which one is it?” practically hearing the gears in his head turning, “your bedroom, baby,” you remind him. His eyes grew big as he got it and hastily nodded in understanding.

“This one,” he pointed and went to grip the door handle to the right door. Opening it, you saw a dim room, the blinds rolled down. It was still enough light flowing in for you to make out the bed, a dresser and a tv on shelves. Decorations aren’t visible except for the silhouettes.

Both of you walked in, Jungkook went to turn on the light but you stop him.

“It’s alright.” With a smile you reassure him, feeling his hands shaking slightly.

You’ve been an escort for about three years, so new customers aren’t something unknown to you. In fact, it’s always pretty enjoyable, the regular customers aren’t much fun anymore. There’s a routine settled already, they know what they want and they know they’re gonna get it.

So having a big, broad man standing in front of you, still holding onto your hand and seemingly growing smaller with every passing moment, does intrigue you.

“Should we maybe just talk first?” He suggests. You grin and hold back your chuckle, he surely must know that that’s not what you’re here for.

“Jungkook, baby,” you purr. “If you’re nervous about this it’s okay, but all I’m here for is to fuck you for your money, you know?” Stating the obvious seemed right.

“You can go wild, do whatever you want with me. For as long as you’re willing to pay, I’m yours.” That seemed to stir him into motion. He nodded and took a breath.

“Then.. sit down on the bed, please.” Jungkook knew that he didn’t have to ask, he knew that this was your job and that he could treat you the worst without consequences. But that just wasn’t him.

In this house, we respect women, Jungkook just wasn’t that kind of man. Yes, he’s got some preferences in bed, but before sex, respecting women always came first.

As you sat down, he joined you as well, leaning back on his hands and throwing his head back to move his bangs out of sight.

“Can we kiss? Like, is that alright?” He didn’t want to just go ahead, maybe you have boundaries? But he needed to get over his nerves, he wanted this. He just didn’t expect you to be this pretty, is all. It made him shy to think about sleeping with such a beautiful woman.

You nodded once, getting ready to straddle his lap. He was surprised from your sudden movement but you could tell that it was very much needed. Helping to spur him on is the least you could do.

“Say… should I dom you tonight? Do you prefer that?” You murmur. He just gave you the energy, even with his big built.

“No, I’m not a sub.” With a stern look in his eyes he reached his hand behind you and pushed you towards him. Fixating your lips, he quickly made eye contact to reassure himself if you consent for this and swept your lips in one move.

His lips were soft, tasted like cherries. They were puffy and he moved them agonizingly slow. Gladly accepting the sudden braveness from the man, you relaxed on his lap. His large hands held your waist tight and you felt incredibly small against him. At the image of the tall man, who’s hands started to roam your body, you let out an involuntary sigh.

Jungkook started mushing his lips against yours, nibbling on your bottom lip. His left hand moved up to your hair, pushed it back from your shoulders and held you by the back of your neck. The other one still gripped your waist, kneading the flesh. He pulled you closer, causing your middle to rub against his crotch while your dress kept riding up, so your panties were even more exposed. He looked down your bodies and groaned when he saw your lace clad pussy, firmly placed onto his lap.

“So that means I can’t get to know you first?” He dropped the question all of a sudden. You, not expecting any customer to ever prioritize getting to know you before getting off, let out a surprised chuckle.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me, what do you need to know about me other than my body and my name?” You purr and let your hands run across his broad chest. The perks of getting a young customer from time to time is that maybe, you’ll be able to get off from this too. Jungkook is a very attractive man, his facial features gorgeous and his body built like Adonis himself would be sitting under you. The muscly thighs just spur you on to grind down on him, even through the loose sweatpants, the girth of them wouldn’t go past you.

As your mind went into detail about how good it would feel when his thighs would clap against your own as he pounded into you well, Jungkook let his hands roam over you more, his right hand slipped from your waist down to your ass and the left situated itself right under the swell of your breasts.

“If you mind it that much, I will at least take my time to get to know your body, then. Go lay on the bed and be pretty, baby.” The sudden boost of confidence and the not missed radiance of dominance threw you off a little, to say the least. He said he wouldn’t be submissive, you just didn’t expect him to be this dominant either.

Before you obeyed him, you made quick movement in getting rid of your heels, assuming they wouldn’t be needed in the comfort of his bed. It was freshly made, as far as you can tell and the covers and pillows smelled like laundry detergent, not too intrusive of a smell. Laying down in the middle, you get comfy and look at Jungkook, who stood up from his place on the edge of his bed.

With his gaze fixed onto your form, he grinned and pulled his tight tee over his head from behind. The anticipated muscles didn’t disappoint at all, his pecks very much there, chest puffed and you see a happy trail disappear into the secrets of his loosely hanging sweats.

You wanted to just crawl over there and take him into your welcoming mouth, but the roles were clear and you didn’t want to go against him this early on. Instead, his knee pushed down onto the bed, his eyes seemingly darker and his arousal very clear if you looked at the outline of his hardened cock. Jungkook made his way to you and your breath hitched as he had you under him.

“You’re gonna be good and let me take off that pretty little dress of yours?” He grinned, taking one hand to slide up and down your upper arm and onto your shoulder. Two of his fingers slid under the strap and slowly pulled it down to expose your collarbone. He bends his head down and let his mouth glide across your skin, barely touching you. Your hands fly up to grip onto his forearms, the tension he built up getting to you. His smile wasn’t visible to you but the little exhale of breath as he huffed amused was still there.

“Jungkook..” you gasp when his lips finally touch your neck, “please.” Not knowing what you’re asking for, he still manages to excel. Carefully he bites into the skin just under your jaw and pulls it a little bit, kissed it after to heal the stinging. Laving his tongue up to the spot behind your ear he sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth, the fingers that were just resting next to your arm slowly creeping under you in search of the zipper.

You helped a little bit, curved your back and automatically pressed into Jungkook’s chest with that. He’s warm and his skin seemed soft. He found the zipper and in contrast to his continuous, slow kisses, rips it down quickly.

He seemed eager to discover more of your skin.

With more vigor he unstrapped your other arm and, lifting up from his arms, he kneeled above you to shimmy your dress down your body and onto the floor. Your own arms fell down next to you from his movement, but you did not even stop to think of covering yourself up under his burning gaze.

“Beautiful,” was his only remark to this, his eyes roaming every inch of newly exposed skin. Your dress didn’t require you to wear a bra, so all you were wearing now were the innocently beautiful lace panties clinging to your pussy. A groan rumbled out of Jungkook’s chest at the view he got when he zeroed in on your middle. Your arousal was made visible through the wet spot and he dropped his hand down to your hip. His thumb barely ghosted over your lips and you shivered.

“Need to eat you out, baby.” He stated, licking his lips in anticipation. With a whimper you nodded, strongly agreeing to this. You needed him to do something, anything. He made you this affected, now he has to finish the job. With a look into your eyes he dropped down onto his forearms, kissing your lips eagerly.

“Wanna touch all of you, your body is so gorgeous,” Jungkook whispered into your ear, taking your earlobe in between his lips but still paid attention so that his teeth weren’t biting down, just grazing the soft skin. You reached up to dive your fingers into his soft hair and settle your hands on the back of his neck.

“Jungkook, I really need you. Please j-just-” you gasped when he pushed his knee against your groin.

“I wouldn’t call you good, seeing as to how impatient you are, hm?” His tone was clearly teasing, his eyes glinting as he looked at your trashing form. The pressure was nice, but just not enough. You needed friction.

“Look at you, grinding on my knee like a bitch in heat. I was trying to treat you like a princess,” he shakes his head in a demeaning way, “would you rather be treated like the bitch you are, then?” His chastising voice made your tummy feel heavy, the way he was talking to you making you feel so small.

“N-no, please.” Jutting out your bottom lip on instinct made Jungkook laugh, you looked unbelievably adorable. “If you wanna be worshipped, baby, you gotta earn it,” he reminded. You nodded, wanting nothing else other than for him to finally do something, but he won’t unless he deemed you behaved enough.

Happy with your compliance, he flashed a toothy smile and bent his head down again to peck your lips, before he kissed down your chin and neck, to the valley between your boobs. With his lips he trailed over to your right breast, circled your nipple with his tongue and you whimpered his name. Smugly, he grinned and took the bud between his teeth to pull at it a little. Your mewls got louder and when he was satisfied, he repeated the actions on your other nipple as well.

Your breathing started becoming heavier while Jungkook continued to leave sloppy kisses along his way to your tummy and finally, he was at your middle. Not done teasing you though, he started mouthing at your clothed slit, the touch barely there but still noticeable. Your hands went into his hair and you pushed and pulled at his soft strands.

The sweet moans you let out only spurred him on, he kissed over your hip bone and down to your thighs. The kisses trailed a little bit down to your knee until your trashing increased so much, Jungkook felt like he had to discipline you. So with one quick movement, he lifted his hand and let it collide with the inside of your left thigh. The sound was loud and startled you, but not as much as the feeling. You gasped in shock and your grip in his hair tightened for a few seconds.

“I said behave, you impatient little slut!” His voice boomed as he looked up at you with sharp eyes. His hand, still laying where he slapped your thigh, started kneading the smarting flesh. Without minding your ogling eyes, he moved up a little and presses his nose into your crotch. He inhaled deeply and fixed you with a strong look.

“Was just gonna tell you what a nice fucking pussy you have, but maybe you don’t deserve the praise?” He questioned harshly. You keened at his action, loved that he’s all over your body.

Just as you were about to apologize, trying to get Jungkook to do something, he harshly tugged your panties aside and took a good look at your wet slit. He let out an airy laugh.

“You’re really this wet already? Poor thing must feel so neglected, hm, pretty?” You blushed at his words, from shyness because of the nickname and shame because yes, you already were soaked without much foreplay. You mewl and try to push Jungkook away from you when he didn’t retreat after a few minutes, but suddenly he delved right in.

Licking a fat stripe up your folds, he left the teasing for another time. With your glistening, perfectly pink pussy right in front of him, he couldn’t have possibly held himself back for any second longer than necessary. He took your mound in like a man starved and slurped up all your juices. Running his tongue up and down your slit and twisting it in figures on your clit made you scream out, your grip on his scalp like iron and your legs squirming around next to Jungkook’s upper body.

He grips your thighs and throws them over his shoulders, holding you down with his hands on your tummy. He pressed his thumb down on your clit with his right hand and started pushing his wet muscle in and out of your tight hole. He moaned into you and let you feel the vibrations, getting you to throw your head back into his pillows and moan out loud.

“F-fuck! Like that, please, Jungkook! Oh-” you can tell that he was grinning, his ego pumped to the hill from the noises he coaxed out of you. Even though he’s loving a full face of your pussy, your juices wetting his face from nose to chin, he lifts his head up for a short moment, intently looking at your withering form.

“So, Y/N what’s your favorite color..?" Jungkook purred before he took another long swipe of your pussy making you gasp in pleasure.

“Jungkook are you serious right now?” You almost scream out, upset at how he even stopped to circle your clit with his thumb. Looking at him, you saw that he wasn’t going to continue until you answered his question. You exhaled and sank back into the cooling pillows.

“I like yellow..” he piqued up at that. “Oh wow, me too! I see, we’re getting along very nicely, pretty.” With a wink and that damned grin he lowered his head again, finally soothing the clammy feeling of need on your clit.

He seemed almost desperate, groaning into your lips as he slurped up your juices, slipping his tongue in and out of you and making you gasp. He continued to hold you down to stop you from squirming up the mattress and you felt like his prey, at loss of your expense and slumping on the bed as you hold onto his hair with weak hands.

“Jung-kook! Fuck!” Your gasp for him only spurred him on, he pressed his open mouth and flat tongue onto you and moved his face from side to side. “I’m gonna- nhhgg-“ an almost sadistic laugh rumbled through him and you shuddered. You could feel yourself get closer, his nose rubbing into your clit providing extra friction and your breath starts to get short. The heat built inside of your abdomen and you almost got pushed over when Jungkook removed himself completely off of you.

Left with no touch your eyes ripped open and you stared at his smug face with disbelief.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?” You groaned. He just laughed, wiping your glistening juices dry on his chin and nose with the back of his hand.

“You’re not going to cum unless it’s on my dick, baby.” He shrugged, “just to be clear, I decide everything around here.” Not wanting to admit how much you like the idea of him controlling you in such a way, you frowned and let your head fall back into his pillow.

“Understood?” He suddenly was on you, his eyes dark and lids heavy. You gasped but hastily nodded, whimpering when his unnoticed hand dragged over your sensitive clit. “Good girl,” Jungkook purred and mushed his head into the crook of your sweaty neck, mouthing at your skin and tickling your face with his hair that’s pointing in different directions after your rough pulling.

After assaulting your tender neck for a few quiet moments in which you were able to calm your breath, he got up on his knees in front of you, grabbing your underwear and, with a little help from you, dragged them down until they were off and tossed away. With a twinkle in his eyes he started soothing his hands up and down your legs.

“Ready for me?” He asked, his tone soft and hushed. He smiled at you and you were so delirious that you almost forgot your most important rule.

“Wait!” You sit up with wide eyes, flushing when you realized how sudden you were and saw Jungkook’s doe eyes staring at you in shock. “You.. you need to put on a condom, sorry.”

Expecting a complaint like from every other customer on how he’s clean and he’ll pull out and all that, you were surprised when he complied instantly and reached out to his nightstand to rummage through the drawer. With a smile he retreated a foil packet and held it up proudly.

“I just recently went and bought some!” He exclaimed happily and went ahead to rip it open. After hastily removing his sweatpants and boxers, leaving you ogling his hard dick, he was able to pinch the tip and roll the condom over his erection without much trouble, rubbing over the length of it to make sure it’s on properly. You gulped at his movements, can’t seem to remove the image of him at his desk, rubbing one off to some cheap porn he found on the internet. You already knew some of the pretty sounds he makes, groaning deeply when he tucks on his cock.

“Ready?” He checked in with you, ripping you from your little daydream. But why dream about him when you have the full meal right in front of you? He was more than ready to devour you in any way possible, never have you felt this good with a customer before. You nod, biting your lip. With his size, it would be a tight fit.

Impatiently but still collected he rubbed his head between your lips, dragging it through your wetness and applying pressure to your clit. You gasped and raised your hips, not wanting to be teased like this when you could be welcoming him into your warmth already.

Wrapping your legs around his petite waist, you urged him on, “hurry, Jungkook! Just fuck me alrea-“ your words morphed into a squeal with the pressure his tip brought. He pressed it against your opening, slowly making way for him and as you start to swallow him he panted and looked up from where you’re connected.

“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby. I can’t fit,” he gasped, shocked with how tight you actually are. It’s a nice snug feeling for him, your walls tightening around him when the first inches finally dip into you. You both moan in ecstasy when he pushed further and your pussy gripped him like a vice.

Pushing your head backwards and curving your back, you gripped his covers and mewled. “You’re so big, Kook, make me feel so full!” The sentence slips out, wasn’t even practiced. You didn’t have to fake the feeling you had right now, he was fully satisfying you and you had no problem admitting to that.

Ragged breath and slowly working up a sweat, Jungkook held himself atop your figure, pushing his hands into the bed next to you and holding his hips for a little to let you get used to him.

“Can I move?” He carefully asked, sincerely looking into your eyes. Once again, you just nodded, not able to form any words because he felt so nice inside of you.

Having your go, he started to pull out and you felt the drag on your walls. With more strength he pushed into you, slamming his hips against your buttocks and making you shift up the mattress a little. You moan loudly, his power took you by surprise and his girth, that stays consistent until the very end of his shaft, filled you completely. He was thick, you already knew that but with the length he has on him his head was snugly laying against your cervix, just kissing it and you clench around him when the tip brushed your spot as he pulled out again.

Jungkook continued at a slow pace, hard slams into your pussy that dragged on your walls and made you keen. Not able to keep your eyes open, you squeezed them shut and gasped out his name. “Please, take me how you want to, I’m yours to play with. Use me, Jungkook!” You spurred him on, partly for your own advantage. You were close again quickly due to your neglection earlier and with his dick sliding in and out of you, you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

It had its intended effect on him, he fell down onto his forearms and pushed his forehead into your shoulder. His hot breath was on your skin and you moved your hands into his hair, noticing that he enjoyed it being played with.

“You’re close.” It was not even a question, he already knew how much you want to cum and he knows you’ll be there soon. “Cum for me, baby. If you wanna be a good little slut, then cum.” His commanding tone made you shudder and you reached one of your hands down his body to where you meet, starting to rub at your clit but he catches your wrist in his hand.

“No touching, I know you can cum just like this. All you need ‘s my dick, hmm?” and fuck, yes it was. With a few more slams of his hips you were shaking around his form, one hand clamming onto his shoulder, the other still in his hair, now pulling on his roots. He moaned heavily into your ear, gasping when you clenched hard and sank your nails into his flesh.

“Mmh, knew you would be able to do it, so proud of you,” he praised, heaving himself up a little to kiss your lips and lick into your mouth. You whined when he pulled away, chasing after his soft lips.

With caution he started to move his hips again, building up a rhythm and pushing himself up on his hands again. His eyebrows were knitted together, face full of concentration and he let his tongue slide over his lips to wet them.

“Such a good cunt, you’re such a fucking slut, letting me fuck you like this. God baby, I’m gonna cum soon.” You moaned at that, anticipating his release, wanting to please him as best as you can. You were already gasping and panting again, nearing your second orgasm slowly.

“Please, Jungkook, make me cum again” you whine, “so close!” He grinned at that, his confidence boosting with every whimper that leaves your mouth because of him and what he does to you.

He loved seeing you come undone for him like this, laying under him and grabbing at everything you can grasp. His thrusts were so hard that you needed to hold yourself close to him, otherwise you would just ride up the bed and into the pillows.

Your hands were clamming at his arms, eyes blurry with tears threatening to fall. Your entire body felt like you were on fire, your cunt clenching around Jungkook and trying to keep him in, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Such a cockhungry whore. Can’t get enough of my dick, huh?” his hips rammed faster into you, he stopped sliding out and almost didn’t remove himself from you anymore. “Need to fuck until you can’t even think anymore, hmm?” You nod, looking into his eyes and moaned loudly.

“You fuck me s..so good! Want you to cum on me, cum all over me, please!” You begged, couldn’t handle the pressure in your abdomen anymore. “Jungkook.. pleaseplease!”

“Ffuck! Gonna cum all over you, baby,” he pushed himself off of you and pulled out, ripping off the condom and quickly rubbing over his cock. He bit his lip, eyes zeroing in on your shaking body and with deep groans of pleasure, let his seed spurt out onto you. The first few shot up to under your breasts, Jungkook kept tugging on his head to squeeze out everything he’s got. Most of his release ended up on your tummy and a few drops on top of your mound.

Jungkook moved his thumb to rub your clit with it, loving the milky tint your skin got from his cum. You mewled at the touch and pushed your hips into him.

“Wanna cum.. please..” you murmured, looking into his strong eyes and pleading him to get you off again.

“Need me to fill up your tiny pussy again, slut?” All but eager you nodded and wiggled your hips with a wicked grin. “Please, make me cum so hard I forget everything but your name, Jungkook.”

That seemed to convince him, because suddenly he lowered his head again, licking his cum off your clit with tiny wiggles with just the tip of his tongue and pushed three fingers inside of you. You startled and gripped his hair again, pulling and pushing, not sure if you want him to stop or continue. He took the decision off of you and started to curl his fingers, rapidly pushing in and out of you, precisely keeping his fingertips on your sensitive tissue.

Your thighs started shaking, tears actually streaming over your cheeks and your body contracted fast and hard. You were scared you had to pee but suddenly your ears made a shrill sound and you felt wetness around you. Your sight went white for a little and you felt yourself slump down, taken by a wave of pleasure. You were heaving and moaning loudly and your hand went limp in Jungkook’s hair.

“Shit, baby..” you faintly hear his voice and wonder why he seemed so far away.

Slowly your hand started to tingle and you felt yourself being moved around. Your body came back into your control after what seemed like an eternity and when you opened your eyes, Jungkook was right in front of you, still between your legs.

“That was so hot!” He exclaimed, the short moment where you could see a bit of worry on his face fading and fascination adorned his expression.

“What the fuck.. happened..” you whispered, in shock. “You squirted! That was sick!” You what? You’ve never done that before!

Your eyes widen and when you put your hands under where you laid, you feel the wetness soak the sheets. Starting to blush, your first instinct was to apologize but Jungkook made quick work of leaving a kiss on your lips, “no need to be sorry, baby. Best experience in my life, thought it was just a myth!”

“Guess these are the Gamer perks, huh? Can move my hands really fast,” he smirked and the cocky tone was prominent in his voice.

Without being able to process anything, you only saw his head disappear again and felt him lick softly around your lower lips, still wet with release. “You taste really good, could eat you all day long,” he stated, mumbling into your slit.

When he noticed you squirming, he figured you were sensitive, so he moved up again. Laying down beside you with one arm around your stomach, Jungkook exhaled and snuggled into the pillows.

“Let’s shower? We made a mess.” He chuckled, moving to stand up from his bed but you shook your head.

“I don’t think we should.. uhm..” you weren’t sure how to tell him that after fucking him, you didn’t feel comfortable enough to shower with him. You’re not here for aftercare, just for him to fuck and pay you.

“Ah well, let’s cuddle for a while then. We can shower later.” Hearing the smile in Jungkook’s sleepy voice hurt you for an odd reason, a bad conscience nagging you.

“Cuddling isn’t included in service, Jungkook.” You tried to sound serious, cogent but he just put his head on your chest and smacked his lips in a lazy manner.

“I’ll pay for it. Just stay a little, alright?” You feel bad when you noticed that you really wanted to stay. Not for money, but because his company was very soothing. Thinking about it, never has another customer offered to care for you after they got off. Before you could think about it too much, you pushed him off and sat up.

“Not during working hours, kook.” There was a cold tone lacing into your words, trying to make it clear where his limits were. Looking around, you only spotted your dress, no panties.

Deciding quickly, you pulled your dress on, zipping it up only halfways and stood up. You can just get new underwear, but right now you needed to leave before you’d get all soft on him and stay for cuddles.

Putting on your shoes, you tried to sound nice when saying, “I will take cash.. you kinda need to pay me right now..“ slowly turning around, you find him lying on his bed, one leg propped up and his head resting on his hand. He was looking at you tiredly and only nodded somberly.

“Right, yeah. Hold on, I‘ll get it.” Awkwardly waiting in his bed room, you fiddled with your fingers. Not after long, he came back with a stack of cash and let you count through it. When you knew you had all the money your work is worth, you nodded and gave him a small smile.

“Alright, thank you, Y/N. Get home safe.” The soft tone made your heart ache, how sweet of him to tell you this. With a little wave you turned around and left the room, ultimately closing the door to his apartment and leaving the building.

Jungkook was able to hear your steps click on the floor in the hallway, until these too, faded away.

Yawning, he stretched his spent body, settling on just wiping his dick and lower region instead of showering, too tired to do that much. He’ll do it later at night, after he took a nap. A stream for his subscribers was deemed necessary anyway, so he’d have no choice other than getting up again after a little rest.

Laying back down, this time with a new pair of boxers on, he tried to get as much sleep in as possible, but you wouldn’t leave his mind. Your noises and your pretty face, that wonderful body of yours and how you’d say his name over and over again.

You felt so good against his skin and fit perfectly against his body and — was he really swooning over an escort right now? Shaking his head, he tried to think about anything else.

After tossing and turning for about half an hour, sleep slowly took him in. But your sweet smile and cute voice still hung in his thoughts as he drifted off.

“Y/N! Your customer’s waiting!” Your coworker and best friend in this little hell of your own stormed in screaming. Rolling your eyes, you finished munching on the olives meant to be served with the drinks.

You were working almost every day, needing the money. And this customer of yours is one of the regulars, a special guest. He chose you as his new favorite plaything and now you have to suffer. He’s very touchy, very clingy.

He gets attached once he found a liking in one of the girls and if they want to stay, they have to endure it. When you just came in he already was sat at one of the lounges, talking to his rich friends who also frequent this club. Aphrodite’s Erotes is a famous club for many things. One of the more incautious ones, you must realize, considering that you had a website advertising the escorts, a number put onto it, accessible for everyone.

You don’t know how this club still exists, really. Police has come in often, checking the workers and building to see if they were right in assuming this was a whorehouse. Everytime your boss was able to get them to believe his lies. He’s good at that. Made you believe his lies too, once when you were still hopeful of graduating high school, attending college, building up a perfect suburban life.

You were silly, to believe the bullshit he was spewing. Luring you in, telling you he loved you. He spent more than a year with you, acting like a sweet, caring boyfriend. And then, when you were fully sucked in, he made you work for him.

He told you you couldn’t survive in the heights of the academic, education would fail you and you’d end up on the street, throwing your life away. And you trusted his words, no matter how much they hurt you.

When he came in one day, putting on a show of crying, telling you that people were after him and he was to get killed if he wouldn’t come up with a hell of a lot of money in the next month, you were willing to do anything to save him and the love you both have. He explained how he was trying to buy you a ring, make you his and love you forever, but he scammed them and now they want their money back.

Being the romantic you are, you believed everything he told you.

So you started working in this club, no idea that it was your boyfriend who owned it. Not until after a month, when you gave up all the money you earned for him, he told you.

You were devastated, crying and screaming. That night you were trying to leave him, his apartment you moved into, but he convinced you to stay. He told you everything was going to be alright and eventually he’d quit running the club and the two of you would run away together. Over time he made you dependent on him. You didn’t know who you were without him, attached but hating it.

After another month he strolled into the club, a different girl to his side. He broke up with you that day, but you weren’t able to leave. Your boss took in almost all the money that you earn, your piece not enough to afford a living without his help. He’s willing to buy you everything you desire, but won’t let you get away from him. You guessed he found pleasure in seeing you wither away in his own four walls.

Taking the drinks with you on a tray, you put on your best smile and walked out to the lounge. The rich men greeted you heartily with a smile and your client opened his arms to invite you into his lap with a grin.

You put down the drinks and walked over to him, welcoming him and slinging your arms around his broad shoulders.

“Y/N, my angel. Glad to see you again.” His eyes roamed over your body, clad in a tight dress that’s riding up your thighs. His big hands smoothed over you buttocks and your hips to pull you more into him.

“I was waiting patiently for you, Taehyung,” you fake giggled, smiling into his face and making him coo at you.

“I know you were, little doll.” Very content with your obedience he sank into the pillows of the soft velvet couch and took his cigar into his ring clad hand.

“Where were you last time we came here? We were asking for you but your little friend said you weren’t in.” Taehyung’s companion, Jimin, asked you with a sceptical look and furrowed brows. He looked intimidating when he wanted to, big rings on his fingers and whiskey in his hand.

“Had a customer,” you murmur. Even though Taehyung knows what you do, he takes loyalty very serious. You see him scowl when you look over. He tsked and tapped your butt a little.

“Was he fun? Fucked you good, hm?” He taunted. It was humiliating, to be sat on his lap and pushed to talk about the work you do. Taehyung expects you to tell him that he would always be better, that Jungkook didn’t reach up to his level. but you wouldn’t lie.

Jungkook was the first guy who treated you like a woman and not just a toy for him to play with. He made sure you felt comfortable and left with an orgasm of your own. Never once did one of the men visiting this club ask about you, your favorite color. It annoyed you at that moment, his teasing wasn’t timed very well, but it felt real. Taking the money afterwards wasn’t an act you were proud of, feeling dirty almost with what you do. And he was nice about it as well. Ugh.

“He did..” you admit, quiet, because you know that your answer wasn’t welcome. The man around you broke into laughter. Mocking almost, they held their drinks up, congratulated you for the good sex.

“You keep forgetting your place,” Taehyung whispered into your ear, bit your earlobe and chuckled. You wanted to leave. Just wanted to go home, lay in bed and feel warm. But even there you wouldn’t feel comfortable, living with your boss, not able to get your own place. Home felt like a prison of your own.

“Ah, the man of the house!” Seokjin, another rich man and friend of Taehyung exclaimed. The men moved to stand up, you and another girl that sat next to Seokjin getting up with them. Your boss stood there, smiling proudly when he saw you.

“Taehyung, if I could borrow my sweet Y/N for a moment?” The men exchange a handshake and Taehyung nudged you towards the other, “hope to see her back later, I’m not here to drink and chat.”

He nodded and took your wrist in his hand. “You got a call, I’ll drive you over.” It wasn’t a nice offer, it was him controlling you, his tone made his intentions very clear. Rolling your eyes, you pull your wrist out of his grasp.

“No need to. I’ll walk.” Your protest enraged the man. “Whatever, quit being a bitch. Taehyung complained about how you’re not into it enough. If you keep going like this he’ll look for another whore to fuck.” His words felt like a slap into your face. You weren’t willing to keep listening to him, so you turned around and walked to the bar.

Your coworker already saw your aggravation on your face and gave you a pitying look. “There you go, baby. It’s the new customer from last week.” She told you, handing you the note with his address. “Jungkook, was it?” with a puzzled face, you nodded. Never would’ve expected him to call again, let alone ask for you.

“Should I give you a ride?” She offered, interrupting your schoolgirl-like excitement. Exhaling, you nodded, thankful that you wouldn’t have to walk or pay for an uber yourself.

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