#she might be rough ... sometimes she forgets her own strength but she loves all of em ........
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Waning Obsession Ch12 Where We Go
(Warnings: mentions of killing, etc.
Important Info here on our most of the rest of the chapters might be mostly in Kokushibo's pov. Also this chapter will also be a bit shorter than the others.)
The rain showered down from above. The droplets hitting the trees. Seeping into the cracks in their bark and dripping from the leaves down to meet the wet ground. Usually rain was very peaceful. Sometimes even scary. But for now it was very cold.
Both literally in temperature and in sorrow.
He rarely if ever paid attention to the coldness of late autumn around him. He was far used to the sting of cold and the numbness of ice against his skin. His body had been hardened by years of brutal training to ensure that he never let it cross his mind as nothing but a passing thought and nothing more. Hands have gone numb in the cold. Calloused by hardened souls and minds.
'Forget. You must forget what pain feels to you. Forget about what makes you feel pain. Do not let cold freeze you. Do not dare let fire burn you. Tired is not but a state of mind. Push on. You must block out what makes you weak. Do you wish to fail?'
A chestnut tree did not provide the best of shelters. The rain drip dropping from it's curling bars branches and running along golden brown leaves already about to fall. A single bead of water shined in the dim light and tumbled down down down from the rough bark. It's travel ended the moment it hit softened strands of mahogany hair. Running down the long strands going going going to the very ends. It's journey coming to a close as fabric swallowed it whole again. It's cold not getting to the one underneath the soft fabric.
'Block out emotions. You must make yourself invulnerable to any feelings. Emotions make you weak, Michikatsu. Fear causes hesitation. Anger irrational minds. Curiosity stupidity. Happiness creates distractions. Love..Love Is a liability. Liabilities are weaknesses. Weaknesses are FAILURES! You must learn nothing but rational thoughts. Use your mind to make decisions instead of emotions. Use everything you are taught to make the right choices. Only then will you truly be invincible.'
Movements shifted underneath. Warm. It was warm. And safe. Eyes opened to peer in numbed bliss. Her warmth was like a dagger being stabbed into his chest and twisting until the outside was pierced through to the inner most deep depths and injected with warmth he never knew existed. It was..
A D D I C T I N G
'Do as you're told. Become the ultimate weapon. This is your fate. Your destiny. The entire reason you were placed here.'
"..Fuck your destiny."
A hand caressed her head against his chest. Her breaths soft but consistent. Curled against him now satisfied that shadowed monster inside him. Content whenever he got what he wanted. Finally. He had what he needed. All right in his grasp. Everything is completed. He sighed heavily gripping her close. His lips grazed the top of her head, placing a small but warm kiss to her head.
HIS. This was his.
His life. His reason. His purpose. His love. His future wife. The woman who will be by his side. The one who will give him children. Y/n Tsugikuni. Haruhime was a name unworthy for her, but that was ok. It would be remedied soon enough. He loved her.
'Do you even know what love is?! You've never even experienced love! Your father treats you as nothing but the best option! He only values your strength and nothing more! Your mother barely knows her own son! And can your own twin really say he cares about you when you weren't even raised together?? Even your own people fear you! So how can you know what love is?!'
The eyes closed pressing further into her warmth. "No. Stop it."
'How do you even know that she loves you?! You destroyed her entire life in a matter of seconds because you were selfish and greedy! Even if she stays with you it's not out of love! It's only because she has no where else to go because you ruined everything just as you always do!'
"Your heart is beating irregular."
He froze. There was movement under his form and something pressed on his chest. So soft. Heart hammering away from where the palm pressed onto the skin. So warm. Her essence was intoxicating. Her touch scorching but burnt in a good way. He sighed in content. The thoughts were becoming too much.
"Let go."
"...What?"
"Let me go."
"It's cold. Your body needs warmth-"
"Michikatsu, let me go."
He flinched as her lips spoke his name. It wasn't so much her voice as it was her tone that had him flinch but the tone it was spoken with. It was demanding and blunt. Not suitable for a woman her size but it was one that demanded attention. One that convinced him to reluctantly release his hold and allow her to lean up and away from his hold. Her face rang all the emotions that he dreaded to see in her.
Deep hidden anger. Regret. Guilt maybe?? But mostly exhaustion and sadness.
A small wind had her shivering and pulling that sorry excuse for a coat tighter around her. He hated that old garb she had to wear just to keep warm. He'd gladly hold her and shield her from the elements but if he attempted to do that again now that she was awake, she'd only become angry at him again.
Turquoise eyes looked up at the dripping sky. "... It's raining. It sounds so.. peaceful." Her eyes did not again look back at him. "How long have we been traveling?"
"Five days."
"Where are you taking me?"
"There is a small campsite where my father is currently residing in. It's not proper for a woman, but I can arrange better accommodations for you from there."
Now she did look at him. Wide eyed in fear and shock. "Lord Tsugikuni?! You never said anything about having to meet him!"
"I must. By now he must be very angry with me." No doubt his father would be VERY angry indeed but he'd bare the anger for the long term results after.
"I don't want to go anywhere near the Tsugikunis."
"You can bare to be around me."
"That was before you revealed yourself as Michikatsu Tsugikuni." Her eyes narrowed. If they were knives. He'd be dead. "You lied to me. You've lied to me the entire time I've known you!"
"I've never lied!...I keep my true identity a secret for safety. Would it have made you see me differently if I had told you who I was?" She did not answer and that was the deadliest blow of all. "I see..My name usually comes in the form of hatred. Why must you hate my clan name so?"
"Your family is ruthless in ruling, and cruel in nature."
"My father's rule yes, but his actions are not my own." Please don't compare him to his father. Please do not hate him. Please don't leave him! She CANT leave him!! "You did not seem to believe me to be like him before."
"Perhaps I could have believed that you were not the same before you took the lives of two men in the same night you shared my home and my bedside."
This again. He never regretted his actions but he was regretting the hastiness of his actions. "I do not regret that night with you. In fact my time with you only solidified my fondness in having you."
Her frown deepened. "Do you regret your other actions then? Taking those mens' lives."
His answer was simple, blunt, quick. "No. I don't. If given the chance I'd do it over the chance." A single knuckle pressed to her cheek taking her by surprised. "If they had not threatened you then they would have survived."
..Her head turned and she leaned away. "You did not have to kill them."
"..One made you clean his home like a pig and cut your hand. The other threatened to harm you and could have killed you if that knife had been stabbed into your cheek." If that disgusting pig had stabbed forward instead of swiping right with that knife, then she could've died and been taken from him! "If I hadn't what else would they do to you?" The hand lowered. "Everything I do is for survival Whether it be survival for myself or someone else." He slowly stood up and she almost forgot about how tall and imposing he was. "Come. We should be there within a few hours shortly."
"And if I refuse to go?" Her pout was as adorable as it was annoying. Lips purses in a way that he wanted to taste their sweetness on him again. "Then what will you do."
"I'll carry you."
"You wouldn't dare. What if I don't want you anymore?"
She should not have challenged him. It took no effort to lift her up by the back of her kimono and toss her up bridal style within his arms. Her squeals and shocked face afterwards while settled in his arms.
"I'm afraid that is no longer an option. If our union did not already seal us then fate has."
You somehow managed to convince Koku-.. Michikatsu to put you down on your own feet, but somehow that didn't make things better. At some point he dropped the haori coat over your shoulders as the rain picked up like that was supposed to make it better. Five days. You both had been traveling on foot for five days at most counting today. Most of it had been spent in a numb blurry state. You'd lost how many hours you've walked and how many you actually slept. But you haven't been treated badly by him. Many times you were given water collected from a stream, and you hadn't gone hungry. Michikatsu as it turns out was quite the skilled hunter and was able to skewer a quail flying through the air with ease just by throwing his sword in the air and standing still in the water long and silent enough to snatch fish out of the water with his bare hands cooking everything his hands caught over a homemade fire. You got the impression that he does this a lot. Was that why he always took so well to your food?
The charm of the stoic but shy demon you liked was shattered along with your life all in one night. And you were a numb unsure mess just wondering aimlessly after him for now- You blinked out of whatever stupor you were in when he suddenly stopped and you ended up bumping into his back. Blinking you stared at his bare back before looking up to his head. He didn't say anything but stood still. For second there was nothing but the rain still dripping down from the sky with the occasional thunder clap, it had picked up a little bit while you both walked. Then he spoke.
"You have to listen to what I'm about to say very carefully." The blunt and deep tone in which he spoke sent a shiver down your spine. "There is a camp just past these trees. You are to stay by my side and not leave it. Do not speak to anyone. Do not look at anyone. And do not acknowledge they're there. The only reason you're here is because I have business and then we're leaving. Don't speak to my father unless he directly acknowledges you first which is unlikely. Am I clear?"
You gulped. "I-..Y-Yes."
"Good. ..I promise you once this is over we will discuss your situation more properly. For now do as your told."
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kokushibo#kimetsu gakuen#demon slayer kokushibo#kokushibo demon slayer#kny kokushibo#kokushibou#yandere kokushibo x reader#yandere kokushibo#kokushibo x you#kokushibo x reader#kokushibo x y/n#yandere kokushibou#demon slayer michikatsu#michikatsu x reader#michikatsu#tsugikuni michikatsu#kny michikatsu#michikatsu tsugikuni#yandere michikatsu tsugikuni#yandere michikatsu x reader#yandere mitchikatsu#Kny#Waning Obsession
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andrew koji . cis man . he/him . wasn’t that cain mori wandering the city of twilanna ? it’s nice to see the smuggler out and about on such a fine day as this. i’ve heard from the court spies that they notoriously vicious , whilst also managing to be quite resilient . the thirty four year old is seemingly in support of no house . it’s funny, whenever i think of them, i think of quick fingers and quicker daggers, a silence as quiet as a shadow, a smile that dulls the sun . great to see the cutthroat around, isn’t it ?
𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬
full name. cain more. nicknames. none. gender. cis man, he/him. birthday/zodiac. november 15 / scorpio. age. thirty four. birthplace. arratsa . class. mortal. occupation. he’s a criminal babey!. spouse. none sexuality. bisexual
height. 6'2. build. lean. hair. black, mid length, often messy but sometimes neatly combed. eye color. black. dominant hand. right. scars. he has a multitude of them from fighting.
character parallels. he’s a mix of kaz brekker and matthias helvar from soc. there’s an angel there, ah sahm (warrior) , tba. skillset. hand to hand combat, deadly with all sorts of weaponry alignment. chaotic good. demeanor. he is very closed off and comes off as jaded. is also very quiet most of the time but he can lighten up in the right company. he’s quite different when he is when someone he trusts, he smiles more and he laughs more. generally can come off as dangerous but he is extremely loyal to his own. strengths. a whole lot of heart and he is very resilient. weaknesses. very jaded! a little starved for affection but also doesn’t want anyone close to him!
𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲
you grow up surrounded by love and little else. your first memory is of your sister; she falls and skins her knee on the rough stones that line your door; she starts to cry you do too even though there is not a scratch on you. your mother is always nearby with a fix and your father’s laugh can fill up any room. you do not have much and to others it might seem like a hard life but there is nothing you wouldn’t give up to go back.
your parents could see light in the darkest of hearts. they spoke of a better world, of a more equal world. they told stories of a rebellion that had no hope of survival, not when monsters still ruled the land. they are killed for their hope; your small house burned down and the light snuffed out. you and your sister watch from a distance, hand in hand, ash falling at your feet.
you are taken in by the underground rebellion that your parents had signed their life to. it is a family of sorts. you are taught to fight; to kill; to survive even when survival is impossible. you have always valued family above else but it is here you learn that the word can have a multitude of meanings. it is not the sort of love that your parents gave you but love still slips in through the cracks and it is enough to make you want to live another day.
and then there is an attack. almost everyone you know is killed and the others scatters. you and your sister survive as you always do; some would call it a miracle but you would call it a curse. you survive in whatever manner you can. you smuggle, you kill, you steal. you learn to bury every part of yourself in the name of survival. it is rage and hate that keeps you alive all these years.
you are betrayed by someone close to you, ending up in prison. the dark presses against you from each corner and you see the faces of your parents in that place; you see everyone else you have lost but you never see your sister. you consider it a blessing because only the dead dwell in this place. you are made to fight for others’ entertainment and for a chance to live. it is something you do well even if in some moments you forget you were human once; you forget the sun still shines outside these walls. when you are released, it is someone else that walks out but you know you will make it through. enduring is what you do best.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
betrayer. someone betrayed him and he went to prison and it was a pretty awful time. i kept the location pretty open so it could be in any of the courts. this would be someone who he was very close to. i’m open to this being platonic or romantic!! i just want the angst!!
court connections. i really want him to have some connections with higher/lesser eternals. he absolutely hates eternals because he was raised by the underground rebellion and later they were killed and also bcos booo rich people. this could go all sorts of way. maybe he supplies them with drugs. maybe they hired him for some job! to steal something! to kill someone! maybe he stole something from them and they suspect him! want to make his life hell! maybe they met and he didn’t know they were eternals and they ended up hitting it off. im literally down for anything.
rebellion. him and his twin sister were taken in by the underground rebellion people after his parents are killed (who were also part of the rebellion) but that group was snuffed out as well. i imagine them to be like a family so would love to have more connections there! family meeting up after a long time makes me insane <3
others. friends! enemies! lovers etc! he doesn’t trust easily but i’d love for him to have some friends. maybe even old friends that he lost? turned on? fell apart with because of who he is as a person <3 he has also done a lot of shady stuff so he has a lot of enemies and that would be spicy too. always up for an enemies to lovers plot also <3 but also would love hookups or exes connection!
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a demon’s promise | (18+)
summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.
pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader
words: 4.2k
warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending
notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.
“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”
“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.
It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for.
Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.
For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?
Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.
“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.
You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”
“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.
You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”
Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.
You wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And nothing happens.
“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”
“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”
Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.
“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.
Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”
Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”
Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”
You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”
Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”
You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”
Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.
“Yep! Good night!”
Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.
A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy.
Weird.
It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.
---
You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up.
Crash!
You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness.
You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp.
There’s someone in your living room.
The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.
The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.
You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.
“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”
You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.
No. No. It can’t be.
Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.
“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!
You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!
“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.
You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”
You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.
“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”
Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?
The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”
You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.
“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”
You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.
Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.
“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”
No. No.
Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.
“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”
You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.
“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.
You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.
“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.
“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”
He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?
“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn��t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.
With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind.
Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch.
The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.
You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body.
“You like what you see?” he smirks.
You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.
Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock.
You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.
“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”
Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.
“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.
“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”
The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.
“Please,” you whimper.
Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.
You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”
“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”
The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”
Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.
“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”
Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.
Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.
“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.
“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.
“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.”
You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.
You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release.
As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again.
You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.
Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness.
“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”
You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.
What have you done?
Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.
“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”
#tw dubcon#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryoumen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#mine#n/sfw
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Can i request... good ol mikey... and a survivor s.o... where they both are very inexperienced and clumsy but they like each other very much & care for each other. And one day they get into a tight space and they get lost in each other 👀 making it their first time hdjjcndj buts sweet and intimate, maybe there's some fumbling but its all good, theyre feelin it
Yes!! A lil sweet and intimate Mikey is always <3 so I hope you enjoy~
[M] First Time with Michael Myers
828 words
No two trials are exactly the same, nor are any three or four or five trials... but, in all, they tend to go the same way, ending in success or failure based on one's performance during the trial. The Entity knows what She likes to see, but sometimes Her minions take things into their own hands and forget entertaining Her twisted game. Sometimes, they like to have their own.
Michael Myers is a quiet one, a stalker on the prowl for his next fix, and Midwich makes it easy for him to sense where any of the survivors might be, especially when his scratched mirror is right there in his pocket. What confuses him is when he finds one in that secret path behind the bathroom walls, perhaps where the Entity had dropped them off by mistake.
What's even more surprising to Michael is that it's his survivor, the very one he's so infatuated with and always refuses to lay a violent hand on. With the door of one side kicked down and in pieces on the floor, he looks behind him and back to the survivor as if to ask, How did you get here? But they don't know what to say; they're glad he found them.
Michael helps them up and is about to lead them back to the main hallways, but they tug the back of his coveralls so he turns around to face them. They give him a hug, feeling kind of cozy in this tight space with him, and he hesitates before returning the gesture, a gentle one that he's not very experienced with. He warms up to it even in the middle of a trial with the Entity whispering to him to kill somebody, but he doesn't want to now. He likes the company of his survivor, and he'll take advantage of the privacy they have.
His thoughts wander off, and they pull away to point out the bulge prodding against them, an amusing and nerve-wracking occurrence since they're just as curious as he seems to be. Michael turns around to try and hide it, but they turn him back around and look into the darkness of his eyes, just barely seeing his irises as they stare at his survivor with a hint of guilt. When their hand finds his bulge, however, he doesn't protest their massaging it, and the breathing under his mask grows heavier.
Before long, they're unzipping Michael's suit from the waist down, rubbing his length as he watches their hand's steady movements. He closes his eyes and gets lost in the feeling of their touch, wanting to touch them too. His knife drops to the floor, and he roughly takes them by both sides of their shoulders and turns them around, not wanting to be so heavy-handed with them, forgetting his own strength.
Once they're faced away, he slowly brings his hand down their front and over their chest, letting the other find the space between their legs and gently rub up against them. His survivor moans a breathy sound, trying to stay quiet even though no one knows where either of them are; no one needs to know what they're up to. Michael's hands slipping under their shorts, rubbing along their skin so softly, has them biting their lip and their knees weak, and he starts rubbing his length against their backside.
His survivor takes things to the next level on their own, eyes closed as they pull down their shorts and their underwear and rub back against Michael, teasing him with their skin, quietly pleading for him to make love to them right then and there. No one has to know.
Michael takes a hold of himself and feels around in the dark for their entrance, not quite getting it until they reach behind them and guide him towards it, face pressed against the wall as they sink themself onto him. Standing on their toes, his survivor curses under their breath and smiles as they feel him deeper, as he leans in closer to their face and lays latex kisses along their neck.
They don't quite feel his breaths, but the sound is enough to make them shiver along with his hands under their shirt, feeling them with his rough hands and hoping that they're enjoying this as much as he is. He worries that he's too rough of a person anyway despite how slow and sweet he's being, but their whispering for more eases him.
They finish quietly and without any fanfare, cleaning up the small mess with the underside of their clothes. Michael zips back up and watches as his survivor dresses up again, and they spend what little remains of the trial in that little space together, calming down with their hands still all over each other. The eventual collapse of the trial grounds cuts their time short, but they'll waste no time to find each other afterwards and spend more time alone.
#nsfwsf#sffic#anon#req#dbd#dead by daylight#dbd fanfic#dead by daylight fanfiction#dbd michael myers#michael myers#dbd smut
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Falling
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Summary: Cause Levi can't help falling in love with you.
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Pairing: Levi Ackerman X Reader
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Levi sat on a log, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, staring at nothing in particular. The sun was setting, but he hardly cared to watch it, too lost in thought.
When Kenny had taken him under his wing all those years ago, he had taught Levi plenty of things. How to use a knife, how to make ‘friends’. Some lessons he preferred to forget, while others he latched on to as a way of life. There was one lesson in particular that he would spend the rest of his life following, almost religiously.
Violence is always the answer.
Hungry? Threaten someone into giving you food. Being held at gun point? Kick the crap out of them. Not getting the answers you want? Torture. Rip out their nails. Break their back.
That was the guideline for surviving in the underground. Dominate everyone using brute force. Make a reputation so fierce that only senseless morons would challenge you. Admittedly, it had worked well for him. He had become the top dog in that dreary, dark hell. Able to eat three times a day, wear decent clothes. He, Farlan and Isabel had survived well for a good amount of time. That is, until they had their first taste of sunlight.
In hindsight, taking that mission had been a foolish mistake. He had lost his cherished friends, and while he now got along with his cormades, it just wasn’t the same. Other parts of his life, however, continued to remain as before.
The surface may have lacked the unhinged lawlessness of the underground, but Levi still utilized his usual methods of living, albeit more legally.
In his years in the military, he had used his superior physical strength to instill fear and discipline. Cadets, high ranking members of the military, even the Queen often cowered before him in fear. Any other man would enjoy the thrill of it, reducing the most powerful people in his country into meek versions of themselves, unable to properly look him in the eye.
And he did. A part of him would always be smug about it, solely because underground filth like him, who had been expected to waste away his life, had managed to climb to a position at the top that no else held.
But it was tiring now. He had become so.. lonely. Everyone he had let into his heart left him. His sweet mother, crazy Kenny, his siblings in all but blood, Farlan and Isabel. Here he was, surprisingly wealthy and popular, but missing his precious people.
Alas, he would never let someone in like that again. The rest of his life was destined to be spent alone, threatening everyone in hearing range and dying on the battlefield. And, with a sigh, he accepted this miserable fate.
What he didn’t know was that meeting you would lead to him burning down his self established fate to ashes and dust, with his very own hands.
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Why you had even thought about approaching him was incredulous, Levi mused to himself. An exhausted soldier sitting in the dark of a room, staring mindlessly at the table. He had showed no expression on his face but still, normal people would have been scared off just at the sight of him. You weren’t, and that’s how the two of you met.
You had made him some nice herbal tea and brought it to him. Giving him some plain biscuits along with the beverage. He had eyed you suspiciously, not willing to entertain you with even a thank you. Your intentions had been unclear to him at the time.
What was a beautiful woman like you, even Levi privately admitted to double taking at the sight of you, doing offering tea to him of all people. Kindness didn’t exist in people, he had never seen it in anyone besides his mother and Isabel. So you probably had a hidden motive. Maybe you needed a favour? Or were trying to integrate yourself in with the higher ups for better pay? Or maybe one of those dumb admirers that thought they could change him?
Once you left, after giving him another smile and telling him you hoped he would enjoy the tea, he decided to dismiss all thoughts of you. He wouldn’t help you with shit.
He did enjoy the tea though.
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For the next two months, he began seeing you everyday. Not by choice, he told himself. He had accidentally made it a habit to sit in that room, all by himself, everyday, at the exact same time.
And everyday, without fail, you would bring him tea and biscuits. Sometimes there was a cake slice, or cookies, or even a nice meal, like rice with boiled vegetables.
He learned about you in that time. Your name, for one, which sounded oddly pleasing on his tongue. You were a garrison cook, tasked with making meals for the garrison engineers, whose office had been established right next to the Survey Corps headquarters. It explained why he kept seeing you everyday. A part of him had been strangley thrilled to hear that, as if the idea of seeing you everyday was something he actually wanted.
You never flinched around him or stuck around to talk to him for too long. Bringing him his tea with that sweet smile, asking about his day, wishing him well. You never made a face or took his obvious reluctance to talk to heart. His short answers and grunts, his crass language, they all had no effect on you. It was clear you really wanted nothing from him. No favours, no urge to get close. You were just being… kind.
And as someone who had hardly experienced genuine kindness in his life, he would let you continue. Besides, it was the first time someone was behaving around him without Levi having to force them. It was too refreshing for him to stop.
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Levi eyed the tray in front of him warily. There was a cup of steaming tea, some sugar cubes he could add, a few biscuits and two sandwiches. He hadn’t touched it yet, even though he knew it would taste amazing, much like everything else you made. But he was rather preoccupied, unable to make sense of what he was feeling.
You hadn’t showed up today. He had waited, expecting that knock on the door, your light footsteps as you entered the room, your cheery voice to greet him. Instead, it had been another cook. Levi had scowled as the girl had blushed and stuttered around him, putting the tray on the table, not quite able to talk to him, or look him in the eye.
‘C-captain I was told to give this to you-’
His irritation had shot up through the roof and with his usual impatience, he snarled at the girl, asking for your whereabouts. Initially, he got no solid response out of her, because she didn’t know. But in the end, as she made to leave, terrified beyond belief of him, she said something that had his heart inexplicably stopping.
‘Sh-she might be o-on a date. That’s why- why she didn’t bring it today. I think’
Now here he was, eyeing the delicious spread infront of him. Except he didn’t have much of an appetite. His mind was jumbled up, unable to comprehend why he felt so.. Hurt?
Were you actually out on a date right now? Allowing some shitty lowlife to woe you? He felt resentful, unsure of himself. It shouldn’t matter to him. It wouldn’t matter to him. He refused to allow it to.
With a grimace, he put his feelings aside and began eating. He knew better then to waste good food.
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The next day, when you came with the tray, you told him you had gone to visit your cousin who had given birth to a baby girl. The relief he had felt, knowing that you hadn’t been making goofing off with some hormonal piece of shit, had stunned him. He continued to suprise himself, by behaving like he had been possessed. As evidenced by how before you could leave, his hand shot out to grab your wrist and the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them.
‘Oi, stay. Let’s…eat together. ’
Your eyes had widened, no doubt shocked that he actually wanted you around. With a tentative smile, you nodded in agreement, taking the seat next to him. You carried the conversation, with him silently listening and interjecting his own opinion. Somehow, he had even managed to make you giggle, causing a warmth to spread in his chest. Before the two of you knew it, the tray had been emptied of its contents, yet neither of you made to leave for at least an hour more.
Later, while sitting in his chair, preparing to sleep, Levi thought back to when he had held your wrist. He marvelled at how soft and delicate you had felt in his grasp, wondering what it would feel like to have those arms hold him. Would you feel just as soft, pressed up against him? He could tell you would be gentle, he knew you possessed no mean or rough bone in your body.
Fantasising about you, and yearning to feel more of you, he drifted off to sleep.
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He hated being on sick leave. Abhorred it. He felt useless, couldn’t do shit. Yet here he was, on a one month leave and it was all becuase of his dumbass titan brat.
Eren had been practicing hardening in his titan form, but had positioned himself wrong. He had gotten out of the crystal carcass too soon, and the damn thing had toppled over the entire crowd of soldiers standing near by. Which included him. Most had made a get away with their gear, but Erwin, having only one arm, hadn’t been fast enough. Leading to Levi having to save him in the nick of time. And fracturing his left arm and spraining his right leg.
The doctor had banned him from strenuous activity and had made it clear that he would have to spend at least a month taking it extremely easy. His Ackerman bloodline meant that, unlike other normal people, he would be completely okay within a month.
That hadn’t been enough to stop Levi from grumbing or threatening Erwin or calling the doctor an old hag. Once his fury had partially subsdided, he grudgingly accepted that he needed the rest.
He had thought of going to live at the modest house he owned, which was near headquarters. It had been a gift from the Queen, for his part in taking down Zeke Yeager. The new beast titan shifter had gained all his memories and had been instrumental in them winning the war against Marley. Last he checked, Connie had been appointed to the Northern branch, his power better utilised there in case of attacks from behind.
Erwin hadn’t allowed him to leave, insisting he had no one to take care of him and that he would probably start doing push ups after resting for a day. Which was true. Damn that bastard for knowing him so well.
So here he was, stuck in his room, waiting on the annoying brats to give him food three times a day. There was a knock on the door, probably a soldier with his breakfast, having no idea they were about to be on the recieving end of his ire. And God help Eren if he was dumb enough to be standing out that door. He called them in, only to freeze at the sight.
There you stood, that precious smile on your face, holding a tray of food in one hand and a basket. He couldn’t care less about anything else, all he could focus on was the fact that you were standing infront of him. He felt enchanted, he hadn’t seen you the entire week he had been forced to spend at the hospital.
I missed her, Levi realized.
‘Good Morning Levi!…’
You began chattering, asking for his well being, handing him the tray of food. You had brought him a care package full of goodies, which included lemon cookies, his favorite flavour.
‘Why are you here?’
The question had been asked with his usual bland tone, but there was an emotion behind it only he could identify. There was an excitement welling up in him, as though he knew the answer already.
When you told him you had heard about his injury and had wanted to visit him, he had felt pleased and touched. When you continued on and told him that you had offered Erwin to personally take care of him with your usual duties, so that all the other soldiers wouldn’t have to divide the work between them, Levi was stunned.
’.. Since we’re friends, I figured this way I could help you out and.. ’
Levi took a sip of his broth, which tasted far better then the stale soup the kitchen usually served, watching you move around his room. Anyone else would have been physically hauled and thrown out the window by now, doctors orders be damned. Yet he felt okay with you neatly folding his blanket, straightening out things that he hadn’t been able to because of his injury, comfortably taking charge of his room.
For a brief moment, he saw a vision of you taking care of him like this in his house, as his wife.
As you sat before him, drawing him into conversation, Levi decided that having the month off wasn’t going to be as miserable as thought it would be.
And he was right.
Seeing you three times a day, enjoying meals with you, you fussing over him because you caught him doing pull ups, your bell like laughter that rang in his ears long after you went back to work, it all made him feel more then he could ever define.
Remembering you bandaging his arms everyday, your hands gentle, expression sympathetic as you shyly avoided staring at his bare, muscular chest, Levi decided he would have to acknowledge what he was feeling after all.
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Love.
He was in love with you.
Levi leaned into his chair, setting down the pen had had been writing with. The realization had struck him suddenly and he needed to process it. He had never felt so alive, so amazed.
It had been a year of knowing you, and without even trying, you had made him fall in love with your very existence.
He cherished any moment of time he could spend with you, and you often haunted his thoughts when he couldn’t see you. You were the one he wanted to see first after getting back from a mission, becuase he knew if anyone gave a fuck about him being alive, it was you.
Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to smile, remembering how you had hugged him that one time. He had seen you straight after a deadly battle, covered in blood and small wounds. You had been so concerned, grabbing him by the hand, dragging him to his room.
He recalled how you had been applying alcohol on the injury at the corner of his mouth, causing him to hiss in pain. Frowning, you had applied it more carefully, then brought your mouth closer and lightly blowed air on the wound to reduce the sting. You had either been too caught up in worrying about him or had pretended not to notice, but his eyes had defintiely darkened at having you in such close proximity. Your lips only inches away from his, a hand resting on his shoulder, it had been an effort to not tug on your wrist and seat you in his lap and starting something he had been craving to. Once you had finished helping him and had decided he was in better condition, you had hugged him, a moment he could never forget.
You were shorter then him, so your head rested on his chest as your arms wrapped wrapped around his back. His arms had a mind of their own, immediately taking the oppurtunity to rest on the small of your waist.
Breathing in your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he had savoured the moment. When you pulled away from him, he had frowned, not liking the tears welling up in your eyes.
‘N-never be so reckless again! I got so worried and..’
You had buried yourself in his arms again, silently crying, berating him for being so careless. Your soft form had been pressed against his rough stature, he had never had someone be so gentle with him, care about him this much.
Back in the underground, doctors often had to be threatened into treating him. He had always used force, but there was no need to use any on you. There never had been. And hopefully, there never would be.
Knock knock
Startled, he snapped out of his day dreaming, chuckling to himself. To think he had gotten so lost in his memories with you..you really had become his everything
Expression neutral, he regained himself and called the soldier in.
Now, if only he could somehow tell you.
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A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed this! Maybe I should do a part 2? For the confession? Does anyone want that? Constructive criticism is always welcome. My asks are open so pls send requests. Till next time!
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Chapter 2: Adventures in Space Babysitting
Link to Chpt. 1, Chpt. 3
Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader
Rating: T
Warnings: Mild swearing, sexual arousal, references to sexual relationships, canonical violence
Word Count:~5600
Summary: Caretaker reader is settling into her job and she realizes she has a crush on Mando. Some fluff, action, and little angst in this chapter.
Author’s Note: Welcome to Chpt. 2! I haven’t really written anything with angst before so I hope you think that part went okay. Thanks for reading!
The little green body launches itself up onto your bed yet again waking you in the early hours of the morning. The child snuggles up close to your chest and you can’t help but rub his little back with soothing motions. You have tried to get the child on a routine these past few weeks, and this seems to be the one pattern he’s most pleased to follow every day. The first time he showed up in your bed you thought Mando had placed him there as a subtle hint that it was your turn to be on child duty. However, when you heard Mando frantically looking for the toddler that first morning, you knew the little one had managed to sneak his way over to you all on his own. Neither you nor Mando know much about the child’s life before Mando rescued him, but it seems to you that it must have been difficult, because he appears to be starved for affection and he seeks it out every chance he gets. You’ve always been a cuddler yourself though so you are happy to oblige him and honestly although it means you don’t get to sleep as much as you used to, you love your early morning snuggles with him. Besides, it helps keep your mind off how much you’d like to snuggle Mando.
This silly crush on Mando has hit you out of nowhere and you feel like a complete fool for even acknowledging it. You suppose it can’t be helped to a certain extent, as he has to be hands down the nicest man in the entire galaxy, implausible as it may seem. He’s a gun-for-hire, rough and tough bounty hunter, covered in armor and weapons, and yet he has been nothing but thoughtful and respectful towards you. When you first spoke to him about establishing a better schedule for the child and working on some developmental milestones, he listened carefully and encouraged you to do what you felt was best. Other men you’ve known in the past would have questioned your recommendations or only half-listened to you dismissively. But Mando asked thoughtful questions that showed you he valued your opinions and then he was sure to comment on how well things were going after you began implementing the changes. You couldn’t remember the last time an employer gave you a compliment on your work, and it was just nice.
Then there was the first time he brought back a bounty to the ship. He’d been gone for about two days and when he returned, he was dragging a large alien man behind him. While you tried not to be overly curious, you couldn’t help but watch him as he manhandled the guy into the carbonite freezer. You were impressed with his strength, but it also made you feel a little bit wary as he next strode over towards you and the child. Your cautiousness melted away quickly though as Mando placed a bag of berries on the crate sitting next to you, mentioning that he noticed how much you seemed to enjoy them and thought you’d like to have some more. The thought of him noticing such a detail and then taking the time to stop and buy the berries for you made you want to swoon. You told yourself you were being ridiculous and that it was clearly just an overreaction to someone finally being nice to you.
The child is starting to get squirmy and you know that means he’ll be looking for breakfast soon. You listen carefully for Mando and realize that he must either be still asleep or up in the cockpit. Either way, you doubt he’s eaten any breakfast yet as he seems to prefer your cooking over his own. You toss back your covers and get yourself ready for the day. You decide to make eggs this morning, the little one’s favorite food that isn’t sugar-based. You are just finishing cutting up some fruit to go with the eggs, when you hear Mando’s boots behind you.
“MMM, smells good.” He says sounding still a bit sleepy. “I’m starving.”
You turn around with a plate all ready for him and a cup of caf, telling him “Lucky for you, I knew you would be.”
“Thank you, I don’t know how I survived without you,” Mando replies. Your heart sings at his words and you quickly turn back to the food so he can’t see the goofy smile breaking out on your face.
“Mostly on ration bars it seems.” You noticed he had quite the stash of them when you were first on board. Fortunately, you’ve convinced him to try to get a greater variety of food whenever possible.
“Well, my taste buds thank you too.” He carries his breakfast into his bunk where he can eat in privacy. At first, you felt sad for him always having to eat by himself, but you realize he must be so used to it that it probably doesn’t bother him. Nonetheless, it hasn’t stopped you from thinking up ideas for a shared meal sometime in the future, maybe when he knows you better and his trust in you is stronger.
After breakfast, you’re getting the child ready for a day out on the town. Mando is dropping off several bounties today which means you’ll be able to stretch your legs off the ship and visit the market in Batuu. As the ship lands, Mando is already back in the hull quickly reviewing all of the safety protocols for leaving the ship. He does this each time and at first it was rather annoying, it’s not like you’re an idiot, but then you realized he does it because he simply cares that much about the child’s and your wellbeing. While his protectiveness towards the child is completely logical, you still can’t get over how much it extends to you too. You’ve been responsible for yourself for so long; it never occurred to you that another adult would care so much about protecting you.
“Before I forget, I found a holster for you.” Mando is holding out a leather belt for you. “You shouldn’t keep the blaster in a bag; you can’t get to it fast enough.”
“Oh, thank you.” You say politely, although you’re hoping that just once he’ll fail to remind you to take the blaster along. You know he said you have to take it with you every time you leave the ship, but you still feel uncomfortable carrying it around. At least when you could shove it into your bag, you could pretend you didn’t have it, but now, it’ll be right there on your hip, much harder to ignore. Your fingers fumble with buckling the holster; knowing that he’s watching you intently makes you nervous. Mando steps closer to help you, softly brushing your hands away. Maker, he’s so close to you and each time his hands brush against your waist as he secures the holster you need to remind yourself to breathe.
“There you go.” Mando finishes but lets his hand linger for a moment on your hip. You feel his thumb brush back and forth just a bit before he sharply pulls away as if realizing what he was doing. You slip the blaster into the new holster, and he gives you a nod, “Looks good.”
You feel your face heat up as you realize he’s staring at your hips and you distract yourself by making sure the child is ready to go, “Ready to explore?” you ask him, and you hear a happy coo in response from the pram.
You follow Mando down the ramp of the ship, glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Shopping for supplies never seemed like anything interesting in the past, but now that you get to visit different markets on new worlds you’ve never seen before, each little shopping trip feels like a new experience. The colorful stalls filled with all types of wares beckon you to explore and discover some exotic fruit or an old book that you might never see anywhere else.
Oh, speaking of books, “I thought I might try to find a few children’s books for the child, if that’s ok?” you ask Mando.
“Are you trying to teach him to read? Is he ready for that?” Mando sounds curious, but not skeptical in any way.
“No, not yet, but I know he likes hearing stories,” you explain, “and I’m not sure how much more I can keep inventing ones to tell him.”
“Have you just been making those stories up yourself?” He nods in approval, seemingly impressed. “You have a good imagination.”
“Oh, um, thank you.” You’re caught off guard there for a moment, as you hadn’t realized he’d paid much attention to the stories you tell the little one.
“Yeah, I liked the one you told him about the magic frog. It was funny.” He surprises you again. Not only was he listening, he remembers the silly story you made up, and he liked it.
“Thanks,” you say again, stunned by his comment, but it’s his next suggestion that totally floors you.
“You should write them down, make your own book.”
“Make my own book?” The idea would never have occurred to you.
“Why not? Maybe you can even get the kid to draw pictures for it. You can get him some coloring pencils too.” Mando turns and hands you some extra credits. “I need to take care of some business, now, but you two will be safe here. Meet me by the fountain in 30 minutes. Do not be late.” He punctuates that last statement with a point of his index finger and then turns to go.
You watch him head towards a cantina and then just stare down at the credits in your palm. How is he so nice but then also kind of scary? And why does it make you ‘feel’ things? You shake your head at your own silliness and then look down at the little guy and say, “Well, let’s go find you something to color with.”
Perusing the stalls, you find plenty of items to fill up your bags and empty your wallet. You discover a great notebook with plenty of space for writing and pictures. The more you think of the idea of creating your own little book with the child, the more excited you get. You find a few children’s books too, so that you can be sure to keep the little one entertained when he’s tired of drawing. Cognizant of the time, you start to head to the fountain in the center of the market, Mando’s designated meeting spot, when you smell a delectable aroma. The baby smells it too and immediately begins whining and reaching out his little hands. You head to the source of the scent to see several types of kebabs at a nearby stand. You still have some credits and are preparing to order but the little one is too impatient and before you know it, two kebabs are floating to the pram.
“Hey! You have to pay for those!” The man behind the stand yells at you.
“I was; I mean I am,” you quickly tell him, “I’m sorry, he’s just so sneaky and fast sometimes.” You offer him a smile, hoping to smooth things over. What’s more, you pray the man thinks the child just grabbed the food and that he didn’t notice anything magical about it. “How much are they?”
The man looks you over for a moment and then his demeanor changes, “Well, for you, mama, I’m sure we can work out a little deal.” He leers at you.
“That’s ok,” you say uncomfortable at the look in his eye, and you let your smile drop from your face, “I’ll just pay the regular price.”
“Ah, c’mon, there’s nothing like a little discount among friends.” He steps out from behind his stall to stand right in front of you. He reaches out and brushes a hand down your arm, “You’d like to be my friend, wouldn’t you?”
You take a step back and say, “I’d just like to pay you for the food.”
“We can call it even, if you give me a little kiss.” This gross creep moves closer to you again, this time leaning down.
“I have credits.” You tell him, attempting to sound firm while you start to step back again, but he anticipates your move and reaches out to grab your wrist pulling you up against his body. You push on his chest, trying to pull away when you hear the sound of a blaster priming and then a raspy modulated voice says, “Let her go.”
The man drops your arm instantly and you can finally back away from him. You’re very grateful to see Mando with his weapon pointed directly at the man’s head. The man holds his hands up, “We were just having a friendly little chat.”
“Didn’t look friendly to me.” Mando deadpans, but he holsters his blaster now that it’s clear you’re safe. He comes over to you, placing a hand on the small of your back and turns you to walk away with him.
“Hey! She still needs to pay me for the food,” the man protests.
“What did he want for the food?” Mando asks you.
“A kiss,” you reply sardonically.
Mando shrugs, then turns back to the stall, approaches the man quickly and then just head-butts him hard with his helmet. The creep lets out a loud yell of pain and collapses to the ground.
“There you go, a kiss from a Mandalorian.” Mando drawls, before turning and striding back over to you.
Oh damn! That was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you feel your body flood with desire. Ok, so maybe that was a blatant show of male posturing, and as an educated, modern woman, you probably shouldn’t be so aroused right now. But some primeval part of your brain has taken over, and the only thought you have is how great a protector Mando is and how much you want him to protect you. You can’t even say anything to him right now because you’re just replaying the moment over in your head. It isn’t until you realize that Mando is saying your name, repeating it, that you finally snap back to reality and remember to thank him.
“You don’t have to thank me,” Mando is saying, “Are you ok?” He asks you slowly to make sure you’ve understood him. It’s possible he’s already asked you that but you were too swept up in your cavewoman thoughts.
“Oh, yes, yes, I’m fine,” you reassure him, “That creep just made me uncomfortable, but he didn’t hurt me. But, thank you again.”
“You’re sure?” Mando asks, a bit doubtful. What are you supposed to tell him? That your dazed look is because you’re turned on by him right now. Super inappropriate, having a major crush on your boss! You take a deep breath and remind yourself yet again that Mando is your employer.
“Really, I’m fine, thank you.” You’re pleased that you managed to get that out in a normal sounding voice. Mando considers you for a moment.
“Why didn’t you pull your blaster on him?” He wants to know.
“I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully, “I guess I’m just not used to reacting that way.”
“Hmm, we’ll need to work on that.” He seems satisfied at that and starts walking back towards the Crest. You force your feet to follow him, telling yourself to pull it together.
“Is that really considered a kiss from a Mandalorian?” You can’t help your stupid mouth from blurting out your question.
He laughs, surprising you because it’s the first time you’ve heard it. “Technically, yes, we call it a Keldabe Kiss.” He chuckles again and then says, “But there is a much softer version too between lovers.”
Ok, you almost become a puddle hearing him say the word ‘lovers’, and thankfully he’s still amused by your question that he doesn’t seem to notice your mouth dropping open and your feet stumbling a little. Instead, all he says is “Let’s get back to the ship, kid’s got the right idea, I could use something to eat.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later, Mando powers up the engines and you figure you’re off to the next planet, but instead he keeps the ship in the atmosphere, taking you away from the town. He lands in a clearing near a forest, and says, “This will be a good spot to practice.”
“Practice?” You’re confused.
“Yeah, I told you we’re going to work on your reaction to threats.” He says this in a matter-of-fact voice, “Plus, I know you said you could shoot, but I want to see how you handle that blaster.”
Sighing internally, you put the holster back on and collect the blaster from the weapons locker before following him down the ramp. The baby toddles down the ramp too, curious to see what’s happening.
“Alright, Miss Top-Marks-in-Shooting, let’s see you hit that tree.” Mando’s tone is rather chipper as he points out a large tree directly across from where you’re both standing. It’s a very easy target; he must think you exaggerated your skills.
You draw the weapon smoothly and shoot, just as you were trained to do, hitting the tree with ease. You fire four shoots in a small cluster pattern, to show that you are capable of accuracy.
Mando nods his head once, “Ok, now hit those five trees in rapid succession.” He points to a line of smaller trees further away to your left. You turn and successfully hit all five in what you consider to be a decent pace.
“Not bad, but see if you can go faster.” He instructs you. You try again, hopefully quicker this time. He nods when you look back at him and then points out a new target. You both keep repeating this pattern and he offers some critiques as you shoot, but generally, he seems satisfied.
“You did well,” Mando tells you after a bit, “You ever hit a moving target?”
“Uh, no.” You look at him cautiously, wondering what he has in mind. Your eyes must show how anxious that makes you, because he says, “We’ll work on that another time.”
You can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. You figure practice time must be over for now, but then he says, “Let’s work on that reaction time for when someone is in your face. Just let me tell the kid first.”
Mando walks over to the little one who has been sitting on the ramp watching you shoot. “Ok, kiddo, this is just pretend. You understand? No one will get hurt, so no powers, ok?” The baby coos up at him and Mando nods.
“Gotta make sure he doesn’t try to fling one of us into a tree.” He says to your bemused expression. Mando returns to face you and steps close until he’s practically touching you. Your heartrate immediately picks up and your body starts to feel hot.
“I want you to draw your weapon on me, but do not shoot me,” he says definitively.
“What? No, I can’t do that, Mando,” you tell him in protest.
He reaches out lightning fast, grabs your wrist, and hauls you up against him in a similar manner to the jerk in the marketplace. Your positioning might be the same, yet this time you don’t feel creeped out, no, instead you like it, your traitorous body even pushes you a little closer to him.
“Draw your weapon on me. I’m a threat to you.” Mando tells you in a gravelly voice. Stars above! You have to bite your lip hard to keep from moaning. What is wrong with me? You realize he’s not going to let you go until you draw the blaster and so you finally comply with his order.
Mando releases you with small chuckle, as he says, “Ok, let’s try that again only not in slow motion.”
“Wait, wait, I’m not ready.” You’re panting like you just ran a race.
“That’s the whole point,” he replies, “Threats don’t just wait until you’re ready to shoot them.” You could swear he’s smirking at you under that helmet.
“No, I mean, give me a second to imagine I’m being threatened,” you are trying to buy yourself time before he decides to touch you again. “I need to visualize it.”
“Are you saying I’m not threatening enough?” Mando sounds skeptical and maybe a little insulted.
“No, I mean, of course, you are, you’re very threatening and wanted men everywhere should fear you, but I don’t fear you because I know you’ll never hurt me,” you explain to him in attempt to cover up the fact that you’re so damn attracted to him right now.
“You’re right; I would never do anything to hurt you.” He nods in agreement. “But wanted men everywhere should fear me, huh?” He sounds amused by that.
“Yes, yes, you’re very scary.” You tell him, rolling your eyes slightly.
“Ok, so pretend I’m someone you do fear.” He advances toward you. This time you think of Lieutenant Sauckel, an odious man from Imperial Intelligence that you despised. When Mando grabs you again, you imagine Sauckel’s black eyes and yellow teeth and draw your blaster as Mando pulls you to his chest.
“That was better, but still too slow.” He makes you try over and over, and each time you picture another terrible Imperial officer, Commander Brack, Major Frick, Junior Lieutenant Hess, and then finally Ensign Kerrick Hoven, the man who broke your heart and betrayed you. Imagining Kerrick’s smug face appears to do the trick, because it’s the fastest you’ve drawn the blaster yet, and you manage to wrench your arm away from Mando for the first time.
“Good!” Mando praises you enthusiastically, “That was really good.”
“Thanks.” You’re pleased to hear his words of encouragement, but your voice doesn’t show it. Picturing Kerrick again is enough to send you into darker emotions and you feel anger and sadness swirl in your stomach. Your face must give away your unhappy thoughts, because Mando suggests you stop for the day.
You stow your blaster in the holster and then head over to the child who’s been thoroughly entertained watching you both pretend fight. You reach down to pick him up and hold him close to your chest in a hug. There’s just something about his sweet little presence that makes you feel better. You’re smiling again when you pull away and head back into the ship. Mando follows you up the ramp and he’s quiet but you can feel him watching you as you stow the blaster in the weapons locker and remove the holster from your waist.
“Everything alright?” He asks you.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I-, Thank you for taking the time to work with me on that. To practice, I mean. I know you’re very busy.” It really does mean a lot to you that he took time out of his schedule for you and you feel your heart swell as you think about his protective nature.
“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice a little softer, “Your safety is important to me. Plus, you need to be able to help keep the child safe too.”
“Yes, of course,” you nod in agreement.
“It’s helpful that you’re a good shot.” He praises you again, and this time you smile at his words.
“Thank you,” you reply sincerely. While you haven’t seen him shoot, you know he’s clearly an expert and it really does mean a lot to hear him praise your skill.
You turn back to the child, “I think it’s playtime now, what do you say, buddy?” He chirps in agreement and you head over to his small stash of toys and place him on the floor so he can start pulling out his favorites. Before you clamber down to join him, you feel Mando’s hand cup your arm just above the elbow. You turn back towards him with an inquisitive look. He just seems to stare at you for a moment, still holding your arm before telling you, “I’ll going to get us on our way to the next planet.”
“Ok, we’ll be alright down here. I’ll bring you up some dinner later.” You give him another smile and a quick nod.
“Good,” is all that he says and then he gives your arm a little squeeze before heading to the cockpit and you can’t help but feel a little fluttering in your stomach at that touch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of your afternoon passes swiftly as you and the child take his plushies on a heroic quest across the metal wonderland (the hull) to the black cliffs of mystery (a stack of crates) where you must find the golden treasure (a box of cookies). It’s a much more enjoyable game of pretend seeing as you’re not imagining Imps threatening you. It puts you in a cheerful mood and you’re still grinning to yourself when you bring Mando his dinner tray. You feel a pang of regret for him that he’s missed out on the fun afternoon with you and the child and it’s compounded by the thought of him eating his dinner alone too.
“Mando?”
“Yeah?”
You want to ask if there’s any way you could keep him company while he eats, promising to face away from him the entire time, but it feels too pushy to ask him for that. Besides, you’re probably just projecting your own feelings onto him. He’s likely much more comfortable knowing that you and the child are safely shut away from him downstairs and there’s no way he can break his creed while he eats. So, you just tell him, “I hope you enjoy your food.”
When you head back downstairs, you’re mentally kicking yourself for getting too attached. Your job is to take care of the child and make sure his needs are met. It’s nice of you to take care of Mando a little too, but he doesn’t need you to keep him company or worry about him being lonely. I’m being pathetic. You turn your attention back to your little green charge and decide it’s time to give him a bath and get him ready for bed. Still though as much as you try, you can’t stop your thoughts from wondering back to Mando. It’s hard to forget what it felt like pulled up against his chest while you were practicing your self-defense. And you may have replayed the whole head-butt scene in your head a dozen times. Stars! Am I really so desperate that I’m falling for the first man who’s nice to me? You try again to push images of Mando out of your head and focus on the baby. It works until he’s sound asleep in his little hammock and you don’t have a distraction any more. Maybe you can just grab your holopad and read up in the cockpit. That way you can satisfy your need to be close to Mando but also keep from bothering him. You make your way up the ladder, making sure it’s ok to enter the cockpit in case he still has the helmet off, before flopping down in the passenger seat on Mando’s right. You sit there and fiddle with the holopad trying to find a story that will entice you enough to keep your eyes on it, instead of tossing glances at the armored man sitting next to you. Turns out it doesn’t matter though because Mando feels like chatting.
“Kid get to sleep ok?” he asks you.
“Yes, he was pretty sleepy after his bath,” you reply.
“Probably tired after that epic adventure you went on too,” he huffs out a laugh, “I heard you doing all the voices for the toys.”
“Oh, yeah,” you’re a little embarrassed by that as you know you can be pretty goofy when you’re pretending with the child, “He really seems to like it though.”
“Sure he does, I could hear him giggling too.” Mando confirms for you. “I’m glad he’s having this time to be a child. I don’t know much about his past, but I don’t think he’s had a lot of fun in his life.”
“Well, I’ll try to make sure he does something fun every day.” You already love the little one so much, anything you can do to make him happy brings you joy too.
“Who were you picturing when we were practicing your reaction time?” Mando changes the subject abruptly.
You take a moment to process his question, and then tell him, “Just some Imperial officers from my past.” You shrug, “I figured that would be good motivation to draw a blaster.”
He seems to consider you for a moment, and then asks, “What about the last time? Who was that?”
“Oh,” you try to let out a little laugh to ease the discomfort welling up in you, “That was the man who broke my heart.”
“An Imperial officer?” Mando sounds surprised at that.
“He wasn’t an Imperial officer when I first knew him. He was in the graduating class before mine. We dated when we were in school together and we stayed in contact after he graduated. He’s the one who convinced me to do the exams for the ‘research group’.” You make quotation marks with your hands when you say those last two words.
“He mislead you?” Mando asks.
“No, he didn’t know what it really was then either. He had only just heard about it and was trying to get a job there and convinced me that it would be great for the two of us to work together.” You pause there not sure if you really want to keep telling Mando this story.
He’s curious though, as he asks, “What happened when you both found out you were working for Imp Intelligence?”
“We were both shocked and we turned to each other for comfort. It was intense, because I still had old feelings for him, and at the time, I believed he was the only one who understood how I had been deceived because he was right there with me. For a while, it felt tragically romantic, like we were two people clinging to each other in the midst of a terrible situation.”
“So, how did he break your heart?” Mando questions softly.
“I didn’t realize how one-sided our love affair had become. I thought he shared my horror for the Empire and their actions, but little did I know, he was buying into the Empire’s message more each day. As I was trying to disrupt the intelligence, Kerrick was weaseling his way closer to the officers, trying to spend time with them or impress them with his work. They awarded him the rank of Ensign when he turned me in for sabotage.” You can’t help the tear that manages to sneak out and slide down your cheek. You look out to the stars as they swirl by you in hyperspace.
“What was his name? His full name?” Mando asks.
“Kerrick Hoven, why?”
He ignores the question and asks, “Is he still alive?”
“As far as I know, yes.” You’re not sure why that matters to him.
Mando just makes a little hmm noise and then says, “No wonder you drew your blaster so quickly.”
“Well, that’s my sad story of heartbreak. How about you, Mando? You have a heartbreak story of your own?” Now that you’ve bared your sad past to him, you’re curious to hear about his.
“No.” Is all that he says.
“No? Nothing?” You push back a little; he must have something to share.
“Not really. Never get too attached or involved with a woman.” He punctuates this with a shrug.
“What about when you were a bit younger? No love affairs?” You can’t stop yourself from being curious about his romantic past; you just want to know a little something about it.
“I’ve had lovers, but nothing long-term or serious.” he states, “Relationships don’t really go with being a bounty hunter.” He sounds rather blasé about his love life or lack of one, as if he doesn’t spend any time thinking about it at all.
You feel your heart drop at that and all of your fantasies about the two of you being together someday seem exceedingly ridiculous right now. Of course he isn’t a man who gets into relationships, and if you became his lover, it would probably be a short-lived fling that would burn itself out once the novelty of new passion was gone. You feel foolish and tired. The fun of hearing about Mando’s love life has dissipated completely for you. So you change the topic and ask, “Where are we headed to next?”
“Bespin” Mando says. “It’s a mining planet with a city high up in the clouds in the upper atmosphere.”
You listen politely as he tells you some other facts about the planet. It sounds interesting enough, but you’re not really paying that close attention as you’re still somewhat wrapped up in your emotional reaction to his dismissal of relationships. You take a deep breath to center your thoughts and then focus in on his words, telling yourself that this is for the best, that you need to let your stupid crush die and just do your job. If you can’t do that, you’ll just set yourself up for another heartbreak, and what will that get you?
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Thank you for reading! Link to Chapter 3, Lust Actually. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.
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Heavy Weight
Pair: Boxer!August Walker x Black!OFC
Warnings: Mention of Blood, Mention of Bruising, Mentions of Depression, Mention of Abuse, Mention of Self Harm; Some comfort.
Summary: The various ways in which a man learns about vulnerability.
Word Count: 1.5k
a/n: This is some dark shit. Idk where this came from, and I’m sorry if it triggers someone. I tried not to be too graphic. More of the focus is on him than the relationship, if that makes sense.
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“Tell me... if I’m doing too much,” he sighed between kisses, “tell me if you need me to let up.”
She smiled against his mouth, placing a splayed hand on his firm chest, “I will.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
The very first time he touched her, he worried that his hands were too rough with callouses. It was something that weighed heavy on this mind, so much so that it may have affected his performance. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything about it. She was too polite to do things like that, so of course she wouldn’t.
Sometimes he questioned why she stayed with someone who couldn’t relax. She pressed her delicate fingers into the muscles of his back and joked that the tension could crack a diamond. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, allowing himself to fall deeper into the softness of her. This time, his hands tangled into her thick curls as he placed kisses along the curve of her throat. She giggled, and it sounded like a melodic bell.
He wanted to shield her from the world he came from. Women like her couldn’t handle the brutality of his life, and he wouldn’t blame them. It just meant that he didn’t spend much time getting invested. When she asked to see him fight, he shut her down immediately, claiming that it wasn’t her scene. It resulted in a small argument, and she conceded. But it was a hollow victory when he came home to an empty apartment. Eventually he offered a compromise: she could watch the match from home. It was the only way he could stomach it--he couldn’t bear to imagine her face in the crowd as he used the hands she loved for violence.
And then he lost.
And he came home bitter and tired. She reached up to brush his hair from his swollen eye and he flinched away from her before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. As soon as he found the strength to confront her, she pressed a bag of frozen peas to his face in an effort to bring the swelling down. He protested. She underestimated how much battering he could take, and he told her as much, forcing a grin on his split lips.
“I’m a big boy,” he semi-joked, “I’ll be alright.”
He wouldn’t touch her that night. He couldn’t. His knuckles were bruised, and his mouth was bloody. He was angry about losing, and he didn’t want to be held or kissed. Instead he spent the night on the couch, watching footage of his father in his prime. Every time she checked on him, he murmured that he’d be in bed soon, only choosing to go to bed when he was sure she was asleep and wouldn’t ask him questions.
The second time she watches him fight, she calls him as soon as its over. The high of victory doubles when he hears her voice, and he just wants to go home to her.
“You did so well, baby!” She exclaims, “I’m so proud of you. We have to celebrate!”
Instead the crew took him to a bar without her. He lost count of how much whiskey he drank, how many girls he ignored, how many pats on the back he received from strangers. And as the night progressed, and the alcohol wore off, the guilt hit him like a freight train.
When he finally arrived home, she was asleep on the couch, curled up in one of his gym hoodies that fit snugly in some places and baggy in others. For once, he was glad he sobered up before he came home. He didn’t want to forget this image. He picked her up, and she mumbled tiredly into his shoulder.
“You didn’t come home...” she sighed.
“I tried. I’m sorry.”
He removed his liquor stained shirt and jeans, and crawled into bed with her, placing kisses on her forehead.
“Don’t leave me behind, okay?” she said. He wasn’t sure what she meant. Maybe she was talking in her sleep. He swallowed hard and held her close.
“I won’t.”
The third time she watches him fight, he loses again. And she watches him shrink into himself, live on national television. He came home bruised and battered, but he forced a smile on his face when she greeted him at the door. It didn’t meet his eyes, and she noticed. She made an attempt to ask if he was okay, and as usual he brushed it off as just disappointment.
It was more than that, and they both knew it.
Once again, he refused to touch her. She reached out to rub his back as he passed her in the kitchen, and he flinched, his shoulders tensing up.
“What’s wrong?” She asked with pleading eyes, “Does something hurt?”
He hesitated and sighed, “A little.”
That was a start.
He held her hand as she led him to the bathroom, and he effortlessly lifted her onto the countertop so that they were eye-level.
“Let me look at you,” she gently commanded, which brought a small spark of amusement to his eyes. He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips.
“So you’re going to play doctor now?”
“Shush,” she cupped his face in her hands and kissed his crooked nose.
She applied ointment to the cuts on his knuckles and wrapped them up with a kiss. His heart melted. “Looks good,” he said, flexing his hand, “I might have to let you in the locker room before the matches.”
She smiled brightly at the compliment, “See! I can help, sometimes. You should let me do this more often. Y’know?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “Didn’t I tell you not to leave me behind? Let me take care of you, August.”
Something crossed his features. It was the first time she’d ever seen it.
“Fuck, I love you so much.” He confessed, grasping her face in his hands.
He pressed a long kiss to her soft lips. For once, he willed himself to forget the events of the night. He wrapped her thighs around his hips and sighed into her mouth. She felt his heartbeat thud rapidly against her chest, and his breathing picked up. Suddenly she felt the wetness on her cheeks.
“Babe,” she tried to pull away, but he moved to kiss down her neck, “Baby...”
He said nothing but pulled her closer to rest his head on her shoulder. Suddenly he hyperventilated and his body shook with sobs. Despite his comparatively massive frame, he felt so small in her arms as she held him and let him cry.
--
It took some time to open up. She made the suggestion based on her own experiences, but it was ultimately his decision to take the leap. He was uncomfortable. He didn’t really like talking. But he was tired of feeling angry all the goddamn time.
“Why are you a boxer?”
“I guess it seemed like the best case scenario? I’ve always been a good fighter. I might as well get paid to punch people in the face. It’s a better use of my time and energy.” And his anger. But that didn’t seem like something he wanted to admit. He didn’t want the guy to think he was a lunatic with violence issues.
“How do you feel in the ring?”
“I don’t know. Fine, I guess. Sometimes it just feels like a game. Like a strategy thing...I hate losing though.”
He scribbled something down on his stupid yellow notepad.
“Well, that’s understandable. Losing sucks.”
“Yeah, but it feels like an extra punch in the gut. I just really hate losing. It makes me feel like I shouldn’t even have my job in the first place.”
Doctor So-and-So raises his eyebrows behind his thick rimmed glasses.
“Why do you feel that way?”
“My job is to win matches. What the hell do I have to gain from losing them?” He chuckled bitterly, “I used to just let my cuts and bruises fester. Just so I’d remember how much the shit sucks and I won’t lose again. I feel like I only lose when I forget what losing feels like.”
There’s a heavy pause after that admission, and the therapist scribbles something else down.
“August, there’s no shame in failure. Why do you feel like you should punish yourself for human error?”
“How else will I improve?” He automatically said. Then he caught himself, dropping his head in his hands, “Fuck. Fuck that old bastard to hell. I thought that shit was normal,” he admitted. “I thought every guy dealt with this. It helped you build a thicker skin. I don’t think I’d have the career I do if it wasn’t for him. I always think, ‘whatever these guys hit me with, I’ve dealt with worse from my old man’.”
That was the first time he’d admitted any of this aloud. The feeling was strange, like a small weight lifted from his shoulders. It wasn’t much, but it was something...
#august walker x black reader#henry cavill x female reader#august walker x reader#henry cavill x black ofc#henry cavill x black reader#august walker x ofc#ch: august walker#I'm so sorry auggie I'll be nicer to you in the next one I promise#jaelle writes#even if you are a dick
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Euryale NSFW ABC maybe?
Written by @evoedbd
A= Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Cuddles are a must. Euryale is instantly all over her partner, albeit quite obliviously. Mortals are such strange creatures sometimes, but no request is too outrageous for Euryale to follow without question when it comes to aftercare.
B= Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)
Hands. Hands down. The way elegant fingers can curl so viciously around the hilt of a blade, but weave so softly between Euryale’s own. The way those fingers can be so filling, but never bring undesired pain. Nothing is better than hands Euryale knows she is safe to shatter into.
C= Cum (Anything to do with cum basically …)
Euryale adores feeling the evidence of lovemaking. Yet, nothing is as delicious to her as a kiss with her lover’s taste upon her lips, or her own taste upon her lover’s. Trading flavours in an intimate kiss is the perfect ending to any night.
D= Dirty Talk (Pretty self-explanatory)
Dirty talk is not Euryale’s strong suit, or particularly to her tastes. Her lovers can rail her into the next century, but they’d better not dare degrade her like some backstreet prostitute. If one is to speak dirty to Euryale, they’d best make it sound like they are addressing royalty. Euryale will accept nothing less.
E= Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
She’s over 200 years old. Euryale has done most things at least once. She knows what she likes, but she’s never done things with a mortal she genuinely cares about before. For that, she relishes the experiences with her seemingly mortal girlfriend as if they are new. This makes her seem less experienced than she truly is, at least under a certain woman’s touch.
F= Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)
Euryale couldn’t answer that. Some days, she simply wants to be held down into the mattress and taken violently, like an animal in heat. Ironically, this desire seems to align with the seasons. Otherwise she simply wants ride her girlfriend, trying to hold eye contact as long as possible, fists clenched around the knives stabbed into the headboard or wall.
G= Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc?)
Euryale is as serious as a heart attack. She will not suffer a lover laughing at her. That said, something about her mortal has her want to be a little playful. Her knives always cameo, usually stabbed into the furniture as a handhold as the little mortal rocks her world.
H= Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc?)
Waxed. Kept completely bare. Euryale likes her sensitive skin exposed and smooth.
I= Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect …)
She tries. Truly, Euryale tries to be romantic. Sadly, many of her partners seem to find her intimidating, or are too distracted by her knives to notice. Strangely, it is her little mortal who seems to find Euryale’s behaviours endearing, happy to kiss any knife brought to her face with a dreamy expression.
J= Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)
Euryale is very experienced with herself. She enjoys teasing herself, stroking and enjoying the feeling of her smooth, sensitive skin beneath her palms until she can’t wait any longer. This is perhaps one of the only times that Euryale will stay quiet, squeaking and moaning behind a hand clamped over her mouth.
K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Knives. Anytime Euryale can have her knives involved instantly revs her engines. Seeing her partner kiss the length. Freezing the blades so their chill will rile up her girl. Creating handholds.
L= Location (Favorite Place to do the deed)
Chairs are good. The perfect place to ride her Girlfriend’s fingers, using her own back to shield anybody from laying eyes on her precious mortal. Wherever that chair is sitting is completely irrelevant. Though, she’s noticed her Girlfriend prefers her apartment.
M= Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)
Her girlfriend. The woman is so unimaginably beautiful, carved by Hephaestus to show the world the true meaning of Lust. But she is so gentle and sweet too. She looks at Euryale’s quirks with this perfect quirk of her lips that has the Gorgon unable to focus on anything but the memories of the things that mouth can do. The sweet kisses and kind words that fill Euryale’s heart. These romantic emotions are so new to the Gorgon. Sometimes, they overwhelm her until the heat burning in her body needs to be released. Its then that Euryale pounces.
N= NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Incest. No mommy kinks. No stepsister plays. Calling Euryale “babe” is the fastest way to have the Gorgon leaping off her girlfriend’s lap with an indignant shriek.
O= Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Euryale is an excellent giver. Oral with Euryale is an experience many mortal women would die for. However, Euryale herself is nervous about receiving, not because of embarrassment, but for safety reasons. Euryale loses her mind receiving, and often forgets how strong she is when she clamps her thighs. A traumatic experience with crushing a mortal’s skull has let her hesitant to let someone she cares about go down.
P= Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc)
The name of the game is passionate. Euryale is fire, hungry and demanding from the first moment. She’s borderline primal, all growls bites, hard movements. Euryale is the most devoted worshipper of her lover’s body. That animalistic intensity is tempered into a thorough claiming of every single inch of her girl’s body. Even with a husk to her voice, Euryale will snarl her praises, refusing to let her girlfriend think she is unappreciated for a single moment. One might say that Euryale’s energy in bed is that of someone who has been edged to the point of fury. Euryale wants to feel worshipped, just as she wants to worship. She has a goddess in her bed, and as twitchy as Euryale can be, there is no way she will disappoint. Nothing but her lover’s requests will tame her.
Euryale’s girlfriend however is gentle, soft hands guiding Euryale instead of trapping her. Letting Euryale wear herself out, all the while feeling that she is loved and valued. When Euryale settles enough to surrender, it is slow and gentle, coaxing Euryale slowly into every crest of bliss. The girlfriend is all too happy to use her body, to cover Euryale, blanketing her as the Gorgon sobs into her neck.
Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)
Euryale is happy to shove her girlfriend into a chair and demand hands beneath her dress. She is happy to ride to a fast orgasm. Or shove her hand down the girl’s pants and drag a climax out of her, and a second for good measure.
R= Risks (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)
Their very relationship feels like a risk. Euryale’s body has the strength to crush and destroy her girl if she loses concentration for a moment. Everything new they do is planned, often by her Girlfriend. However, if her Girlfriend steals the marble cuffs, then Euryale is trusting enough to try anything.
S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last …)
Days. Euryale can go for literal days when it is just sex with an equally ungodly partner. Emotionally, she can go hours before she burns out mentally. Her girlfriend stops when Euryale’s mind disconnects, not wanting just a body.
T= Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Yes. Euryale has access to the ungodly monster category of toys, along with her Aura. Her girlfriend has a more chaste collection of electronic toys. Combining them on Euryale is a fun weekend. They help compensate for her girlfriend’s mortal stamina.
U= Unfair (How much they like to tease)
Euryale doesn’t. If she wants, she takes. And takes, and takes and takes. Not that her girlfriend complains, afterall, this is what they agreed to. In fact, the unintentional tease is that her girlfriend is always expecting Euryale to pounce.
V= Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
In private, loud. Euryale has no qualms about growling into her girlfriend’s neck, drawing out scream after scream to the point neighbours have called the cops on them in the past. Soundproofing the walls has helped a little. Not entirely. Maybe because Euryale has stabbed the walls too many times.
W= Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Euryale’s girlfriend adores Euryale’s nose. She continuously presses kisses or attempts to nip at the tip to Gorgon’s nose, both in sexual situations and just everyday playfulness.
X= X-rated thoughts (let’s see what’s going on in their head)
Half of Euryale’s day is spent remembering the feeling of her girlfriend’s fingers inside her, knocking those perfect spots, thumb pressing into her clit. How she wants to take her girl, press her into the walls, palm at her perfect ass. Squeeze. Going any further leads to situations, and Euryale can’t afford those until her girlfriend is off the clock.
Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
24/7. Euryale is one snap of her girlfriend’s fingers away from a turned-on mess.
Z= Zzz (… How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Euryale holds on as long as she can, wanting to spend time snuggling into her girlfriend’s back and shoulders. She will, without fail, stay awake until she is positive that her girlfriend understands how deeply loved she truly is. Even if words don’t work, gentle kisses and nips, tender brushes of hands across her hips and body. Once her girlfriend is asleep, Euryale will eventually drift off with a content smile across her lips.
#anonymous#answered#lovestruck#lovestruck fanfiction#women of lovestruck#smut#eurayle x mc#afk eurayle#astoria fate's kiss#astoria fates kiss#astoria fates kiss eurayle#afk#smutty
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between the flashes
AO3 Link
Beau was always restless.
In elementary school, her teachers gave her one of those rubber wiggle cushions to sit on, just to keep her in her seat. Her parents let her partake in multiple after-school sports because it meant she would come home already worn out. They wouldn’t have to deal with her energy, and it looked good on college applications later down the line. She had a borderline obscene collection of fidget toys to her name and too many hobbies that she picked up and abandoned when they bored her.
Her friend Caleb from college often commented that he thought her natural state of existence was pure movement.
So how she ended up working part time as a model was beyond Beau. The journey from point A to B became muddled, but it likely began with Beau picking it up as a hobby and then forgetting to put it down again.
Granted, modeling was not a static thing. It involved constantly changing poses, making minute adjustments according to direction or impulse, and sometimes even changing or manipulating outfits. Sitting for hair and makeup was a torturous experience, so Beau had of course learned how to do it on her own. At least it kept her hands in motion.
Whenever she got to do dynamic shoots, Beau remembered why she stuck with modeling this long. They included everything she loved about the gig. Sometimes she got to travel, most of them were outside, and they often involved skills she had picked up from all of those sports she used to partake in.
“Beau,” Yasha called from behind the camera, sounding fondly exasperated. “I know you want to get outside, but you have to hold still for this photo.”
Yasha was an up-and-coming photographer that The Rexxentrum Times had described as “a photographer with a stunningly robust portfolio capturing everything from the playful mundane to the shockingly vulnerable”. She was also, more importantly, Beau’s girlfriend.
To most everyone’s surprise, it was Yasha who had approached Beau first, asking with her trademark quiet hesitance if Beau would model for a shoot. At the time Yasha asked, she was fresh out of college and Beau was two years in and changing her major. She had volunteered to model for an art class that Yasha had been in before her graduation. Apparently she’d made an impression.
The impulsive part of Beau told Yasha yes simply because she found Yasha attractive. The intelligent part of Beau bolstered the continuation of their business partnership after seeing the products of that first shoot.
Falling in love between the flashes had been an inevitable and welcome consequence.
“But babe,” Beau whined, adjusting her pose per Yasha’s patient direction. “I need to run around.”
“We’re almost done, Beau,” Yasha chuckled as she adjusted the light off to the side. “Then I’ll set you loose in a field in an outfit you can get as dirty as you’d like.”
“Fuck yes!” Beau cheered, settling into the nuances of her pose when Yasha stepped back behind the camera. A few snaps and quiet instructions later, Yasha straightened up, clicking through the photos on her display and smiling. It was that tiny, secret and pleased little spread of Yasha’s lips accompanied by an uptick at the corner of her mouth. Beau learned it was an unconscious reaction to her own work when she analyzed the satisfying, finer details.
Eager to see the raw photos, Beau bounded over and draped herself over Yasha’s back, arms flopping over her shoulders.
The concept for Yasha’s latest round of photos centered on flowers - their meaning, depiction, stereotypes and misconceptions. There was some implication among the stills about the flowers being the person, but art had always been beyond Beau. She could appreciate it, sure; all that deeper meaning stuff she would rather listen to Yasha wax poetic about than figure it out herself.
But this photo, this last pose, Beau needed no explanation. Despite being the one in the photo, she hardly recognized herself, feeling breathless.
Beau was in dark red cigarette pants and a deep crimson top. The sleeveless illusion neckline that fastened with a high collar around Beau’s neck offset the fitted sweetheart bodice. There were fake rubies in her ears, her features accentuated by the red eyeshadow on her lids, and the deepest red matte lipstick Beau owned. Yasha had her barefoot and sprawled sideways on an antique chaise lounge, leaning against the raised end with her cheek against her arm. Her hair hung loose, barely styled more than brushing out the waves and crimps from having her hair up in a bun most of the day. It hung over the arm of the lounge, long and dark.
In one hand, dangling toward the floor, Beau held a fistful of red rose petals, more scattered over the floor and the chaise. Between her teeth, she bit down on the blunt stem of a red rose in bloom, making it seem as if the flower was growing from her tongue.
Yasha had told her to go for something like desire with her expression. Everything about the setup of this photo seemed to expect some derivative of sexual interpretation. But Yasha wanted to take that capitalistic view point and have Beau model love - unadulterated affection.
The pose and staging were not what took Beau’s breath away, not the make-up or the flowers, the clothes or the composure. It was her own godsdamned eyes.
She looked right at the camera, but her focus seemed fixated past the lense. The skin around the corners of her eyes was smooth, her brow relaxed. There was a light in her irises, deep and yet affectionate. It softened the rough edges of how Beau presented herself as a model, as a person, and transformed her into love.
Without a doubt, she was looking at Yasha.
“This is beautiful, Beau,” Yasha said, sounding awed. “You look perfect.”
“All thanks to you,” Beau replied, both genuine and attempting to duck praise she still struggled to accept.
Yasha, ever attuned to each of Beau’s fluctuating frequencies, beamed at her. They leaned in together to observe the display, shoulder to shoulder.
“I assume you’re ready to go run in a field now, right?” Yasha was clearly trying to sound cheeky. Her tone, however, was a little too breathy, eyes far too distracted by Beau’s dark red lips to succeed.
“Absolutely,” Beau murmured. It was hard to miss how close their noses were to brushing.
Yasha hummed in response, leaning a little further toward Beau.
Suddenly, this all seemed like a lot.
Beau loved Yasha - in a whole and all-encompassing way. But it wasn’t something she just said every day. It was a gentle, ever present simmer of a thing. Love lived in her chest and made itself known in minuscule ways. She felt it like a tingle in her fingertips when she and Yasha traded coffee creamer and jam jars as they made breakfast. Love shaped her smile in a million different degrees whenever Yasha did something extremely...Yasha. It released her most honest form of laughter late at night when it was just the two of them and a bottle of wine.
Love appeared as wildflowers picked on a whim - not intentional roses. It lingered like Yasha’s favorite band t-shirt from high school Beau now had as part of her own wardrobe - not slimming pants and sexy shirts.
And while their first kiss had been the product of a dramatic build-up of emotion and pining, this was not them now. She trusted Yasha, but this unexpected snapshot of vulnerability destabilized Beau and found her unprepared for the aftershocks.
Beau was impulsive when overwhelmed.
Yasha leaned in for a kiss, lips parted just so, eyes closed, a breath away. Beau puckered her lips and blew a quick burst of air right against Yasha’s mouth.
Yasha pulled back sharply, blinking in surprise as she stared down at Beau. Unable to help it, Beau laughed at the expression on Yasha’s face, who was quick to recover, more than used to Beau’s antics. Grinning, she made a grab for Beau, who danced out of Yasha’s reach, laughing louder as she squealed and darted around the studio.
Beau moved fast, but Yasha was right on her heels and had strength and impressive reach working for her. It didn’t take long for her to catch Beau by the waist, twirling her around in a back hug. She used their position to her advantage, peppering quick, tickling kisses over Beau’s shoulders and neck. Beau squirmed and giggled, trying to either wriggle to freedom or twist around in Yasha’s arms so that she could fight back with kisses of her own. Eventually, breathless, Beau gave up and let Yasha hold her, both drunk off of laughter as Yasha put her down.
Twisting around once her feet met the floor, Beau looked up at Yasha, cheeks aching with her grin. There was nothing but absolute adoration shaping Yasha’s expression as she brushed Beau’s hair back from her face. Something vulnerable gave a mild twist beneath Beau’s ribs, but she didn’t pull away or stop smiling.
She trusted Yasha. Now that Beau had her balance, her feet stable beneath her, it became easier to face everything.
Yasha leaned in and kissed Beau’s brow with gentle attention. Beau clung to Yasha’s wrist where she cradled Beau’s cheek.
“Thank you,” Beau whispered - for what, even she didn’t know. But Yasha seemed to understand.
“Now,” Yasha said, pulling back with a grin. “Ready to go outside?”
“Hell yeah!” Beau cheered, darting off to gather her next outfit and make-up wipes.
She might not always have the wherewithal to put her emotions into words, but she had Yasha. That was more than enough.
#cr#critical role#beauyasha#beauregard lionett#yasha#writing#my writing#please accept this small modern au photographer and model au chapter#blah blah something about the night yorb
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Hello❤️❤️❤️ congrats with 100 followers🥳🥳🥳 hope the audience will expand😍 and can I repeat myself again? I love your works😍
So, can I request 5 with Himuro?
hihihihihi!! ty sm for your support squeeeeee, sure you can repeat again, think of it as a thank you for being there since the beginning <333 i actually have so much requests now it’s kind of crazy!
Himuro x Reader
5. “Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything”
Word Count: 2255
prompt list here
TW: attempted assault and stalking, nothing graphic, but these are the main subjects for this scenario, so PLEASE PLEASE take care of yourself first if these topics trigger you and avoid them!
»»————— ☼ —————««
Himuro felt helpless.
The Winter Cup that year when Seirin rightfully won was over months ago, but even still, there is still a part of him that gnaws at him from the inside of his consciousness. Ever since he failed to stop Haizaki from making unwanted advances on his mentor.
No matter how much Alex assured him that it wasn’t a big deal, no matter how easily she shrugged the incident off, there is still a festering guilt that eats him away at how useless he was in protecting the people he cared about. He couldn’t even protect Kagami as an “elder brother,” and he couldn’t even protect Alex as a “male” against another male. Still, no matter how much he chastises himself for having such immature thoughts, they’ve continued to overstay their welcome. What kind of traits does an “elder brother” or a capable “male” even entail?
Someone who wouldn’t be beaten and swatted like a fly…
Someone who wouldn’t just sit idly by when someone is being wronged…
Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to fight back to protect someone, even despite the consequences…
But if that’s the case… that’s just the definition of a person with human decency, isn’t it? Yes, perhaps that is why he still mulls over the encounter to this day. First he split off his brotherhood with Kagami over a one-track goal of an equal rivalry, and then he talked down to his mentor before his Winter Cup game that evening… In the end, he was absolutely pathetic, losing to Kagami’s inborn talent and getting beat down while watching his teacher getting harassed and choked. He easily accepted the fact that Kagami surpassed him with his basketball… The latter? Not so much.
He hasn’t really talked about his inner turmoil with anyone. Atsushi is someone who would not care too much about the complex emotions that he’s currently harboring, much less help deal with them. His other teammates are graduating and too occupied with final exams. He could speak with Alex, but by now, she’s moved back to America, and a part of him doesn’t want to call her out of his self-consciousness and humiliation. You?… He could confide his troubles with you… but a part of him whispers that you’d think less of him if you knew how incapable he really was.
After all, if he couldn’t even protect you as your boyfriend… no, he’d rather not go too far into that thought.
He smiles at the thought of you openly complimenting everything of him every time he subconsciously downplays himself, whether it was his basketball skills or his looks or even his habits. He always thought about how cute you were when you always made exaggerated hand movements to express your sincerity when you shower him with compliments, even if he always told you that you never had to go that far in saying such things. (You always insisted that they’re true and he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for anyways.)
To someone like Himuro who had always hid their inferiority complex and other entangling insecurities behind a mask of a genial smile, your words always reassured him that he wasn’t treating you horribly or neglecting you or just being downright selfish. Just like what happened with Kagami. Just like what happened with Alex. He just hopes he doesn’t fuck this up somehow with you too.
He had always apologized for how he couldn’t spend as much time with you as he wanted to; basketball practice doesn’t spare anyone, after all. Still, you would smack his arm and push him to the gym as you scolded him to focus on what he loved to do best. Ah, he really didn’t deserve you… how you were so understanding he would never know.
But dusk fell at another early-February weekday; it was still quite chilly, cold enough to see his own puffs of warm exhales. His hands are cold, but the rest of his body burns from running laps and repeating shooting drills moments earlier. His ears grow hotter still when he remembers that you two had planned a simple outing near the coffee shop around the corner.
“Atsushi!” Himuro turns back to call out to the center player. “I need to be going now.”
“Hmph,” Murasakibara huffs in reply. “I was gonna ask you to take me to that new booth to try out new samples.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, noting the faint mist escaping his lips. “I’ll take you there next time, Atsushi. I have a date planned with (y/n)-san right now.”
“Tch, I’m leaving before you get too mushy on me. Buh-bye~” the giant drawls, casually strolling down the opposite path. Himuro manages to hold back a mild snort before he makes his way to head to the shop you two agreed to meet up at. Propping up his phone to look for your name to send a text, his eyes widen as he registers your name popping up on his screen as an incoming call. What a coincidence. You must’ve been anticipating this too. He smiles as he envisioned your anticipation at the table before he picks up on your call.
“Tatsuya?…” your voice rang.
“(y/n)-san,” he teased. “I didn’t think of you as an impatient person. Can’t wait to see me?”
“Yeah,” you said, but something about your voice was overly cheerful.
“Don’t worry,” Himuro hummed. “I’ll be there really soon. Give me 5 minutes.” He assumed it was just your excitement taking over that made you sound different than usual. He was about to hang up before you spoke again.
“A-Anywho!” you say. “How was practice, Tatsuya?”
“Hmm, the same it has always been,” he replies. “Just drills and laps before running a few practice games. Why do you ask?”
“No reason! C-Can’t I check up on you sometimes?”
“Of course you can, (y/n)-san,” he reassures you. There was a silence from your end, but he can hear how your breaths quickened over the line. He then registered some footsteps and maneuvers on the concrete and furrowed his brows in mild confusion. “… Hey, is there something wrong?”
“A-Ah yes! I’m at the laundromat right a-around the corner!” Your voice slightly peaks at the end. “Y-Yeah, yeah! I can’t wait to… s-see you soon! Uh, huh, m-mhm! You’re near right now, right? Yeah! You-you’re almost there!…” By now, your voice has taken on an almost hysterical tone.
“(y/n)?… (y/n)!” he half-shouts into his phone. “(y/n)! Can you still hear me! Where are you?!… Laundromat, right?” He breaks into a brisk run, ignoring the disapproving stares of other pedestrians on the sidewalk.
“I-I-I’m near the alley adjacent to the laundromat!… Yeah! C-Can’t wait to see you! O-Oh, don’t forget… um, to bring your wallet. S-Silly, you always forget to bring money, so… s-so…” You completely break your facade with a faint voice crack and a sniffle at the end. “Please… please hurry…”
Himuro pushes himself to a full sprint, completely disregarding etiquette as he pushes a few people to the side. His cold hands struggle to cease from shaking as he clutches his phone harder, as if he was holding onto you for dear life. Something terrible might happen to you, and if something happened to you on his watch…
Please, please, please, fucking god, please—please make it on time—
He grits his teeth and screams at his legs to move faster when he hears a stifled sob and a cry from your end.
“A-ah please…” you whisper. “They’re coming—they’re, Himuro, I don’t know where to ru—” All he heard after was a terrified scream before the line cut off.
Fuck, hurry up, hurry the fuck up—
———
Your phone was completely shattered on the floor, and you swore you had a few broken shards embedded in your skin somewhere from the harsh impact. That didn’t matter though. Not when there were two men grabbing you and trying to muffle your cries for help.
You try to use your elbow to hit their weakest parts, their joints, to loosen their grip. It worked, but as soon as you took a few steps, the other just tackled you to the floor to completely immobilize you.
You screamed, you kicked, you slapped, you elbowed, you punched, you flailed, but nothing seemed effective against two bodies, twice the size and twice the strength of your own.
You pitifully wail as a last desperate attempt, but in the quiet corner of the neighborhood, nobody seems to heed your cries for help. The sun had completely set by now, the year still experiencing the darkness of a winter night; by now, most are already at home relaxing. Their weight on your body was suffocating and you don’t know whether the pain was from the rough concrete, the shards, their weight, or all of the above.
You register them heaving you up with a firm hold on you still and shoving you to walk to the nearest vehicle they owned, and your legs are absolutely trembling from the shallow wounds you accumulated from the roughing and from the fear of the uncertainty of what would happen to you.
———
When Himuro lays eyes on your roughed-up state and the two men restraining you, all his fury and guilt and fear comes rushing back from his encounter with Haizaki.
He is not a rational man right now. He is not thinking of being the “bigger person.” He is not thinking about being a model athlete nor proper sportsmanship nor disqualification. There are no such thoughts of consequences, not when your life is being jeopardized.
He does not fucking care that he looks like the aggressor when he throws a left hook at the first man. He does not fucking care that the second man looks like his shoulder got dislocated. For once, he does not fucking care how his violent actions might cost him his prospective basketball career.
When he pulls your trembling body into his arms and feels how warm you are against his body in the night chills of an early-February weekday, he breathes out a long cloud of air, slowly calming himself as he hugs you more firmly against his side and pulls up to dial the local police.
He feels a slight sense of relief when he can feel you instinctively snuggling into his side for solace.
———
The local officers immediately got the gist once they saw the scene of two sprawled men, a terrified you, and a protective Himuro. After checking the nearby CTE cameras, their suspicions were confirmed. They still ask Himuro a few basic questions before they haul them off to the station; Himuro mostly answers for you.
Once the quiet fills the neighborhood again, you release a shuddering breath; Himuro knows because he can see your own mist from the corner of his eye. Still, you haven’t spoken a word since then.
“(y/n)…” he murmurs, bending down to your level to survey the scratches and bruises on your body before he hesitantly looks at your eyes. “Well… yell, scream, say something—anything… please.”
“… Can you… hug me again?”
“… Of course.”
And you both embrace tightly, Himuro tucking your head into his chest as you nuzzle as much as you could into his body.
“… Did they do anything to you?”
“They roughed me up and all, but… thank god you came…”
“They still put their hands on you—I couldn’t protect you—”
“… Why do you look so much more distraught than me, Tatsuya?”
“Because, I—I can’t do anything for the people I love and care about, and I… never mind, do you… want me to walk you home?”
“Wait, Tatsuya…” you whispered. “Let’s talk for a bit, please talk to me.”
“Our date—”
“Which we can always reschedule,” you said, bringing Himuro’s head down to nuzzle against your shoulders.
“If I was there faster—if I was there, this wouldn’t have…”
“Because you were there,” you corrected him. “I am able to experience another day, another tomorrow… especially by your side, where I’m happiest.”
“You must’ve been so scared—damn it, I—”
“Yeah… I’m still shaken up from that, to be honest,” you sighed. “I’m… just a bit paranoid about being alone in the dark now, but you saved me from the worst case scenario—Tatsuya, what’s wrong?! Are you crying—?”
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, quickly separating from you to rub his stray tears away before attempting to smile. “I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around. Please don’t mind me.”
“Oh silly,” you mused. “I’m dating you too. I want to be able to protect and care for you in my own way, too.”
“It’s getting dark, though. We should really start walking.”
“And we can talk while we do. I demand you to snuggle while we walk, too.”
“Haha… how could I ever say no to you, (y/n)?” He feels that gnawing sense of guilt and patheticness rearing up its head again, but when he looks at your earnest eyes even despite what transpired a few moments ago, the fact that you were safe and in his arms was more than enough to quell those feelings away.
In the lulls of a chilly early-February night, Himuro wraps a comforting arm over your figure as he draws a shuddering breath before he hesitantly begins. You look up at his face expectantly to show that you were giving him undivided attention as encouragement.
“It was during the Winter Cup a few months ago…”
———
End Note: being stalked by a dude in a CAR was NOT FUN. IT WAS NOT A FUN TIME !! 😭 unlike this y/n here, I had no one to “call” and pretend that I was meeting up with them because my walk route home comprised of only houses and streets, so that was something else OOF I was thinking of the worst case scenarios at the time;;;
#submission#kagummypack#knb#knb scenarios#kuroko no basket#himuro tatsuya#knb himuro#himuro x reader#himuro tatsuya x reader#knb fics#knb x reader#100 followers#100 follower milestone
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rough | sj
↳ pairing seokjin x you
↳ genre domestic, fluff, slice of life, heir!seokjin, husband!seokjin, established relationship
↳ words 2.7k
↳ summary again seokjin’s conglomerate family comes in between your marriage, but this time, seokjin will not stay silent
↳ song lauv ‘love like that’
↳ author’s note the 7-day writing challenge continues with seokjin! <3
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Blanket rustling. A hand clamored on the vibrating alarm. A silhouette of a broad shoulder of a man sat awake on the edge of the bed, clicking his neck right and left. Seokjin rubs the back of his neck. He slid the indoor slippers on, walked wobbly around the king-sized bed, leaving the striped curtain down for his wife to sleep longer. Hand on the knob to the bathroom, he splashes water on his face. With the tips of his hair wet, he brushed his teeth. The morning always begins the same way from Seokjin. He is up by 6am, he does all his morning necessities, plants a kiss on the wife’s cheek and checks out the daughter in the next room. Once he has gotten a good look and the situation is unalarming, he proceeds to the kitchen. He looked at a post-it note placed on the fridge door, and today, his wife wanted to take kimchi fried rice with egg to the office for lunch.
Easy. I can do that. He thought.
Lily, his 7 years old daughter is still asleep. Overnight yoghurt is ready for her. For his wife, she would have something warm. So he took out a bowl and poured a cup of oats inside, meanwhile the coffee was brewing as it was set to start brewing at about 6:15am in the morning, everyday. Coffee is the most important beverage to start the day. Without it, civilization might not even exist. Seokjin thought as his lips embraced the warm hug of the energizing liquid, downing a sip, cascading down his parched throat. He let out a satisfied sigh. The curtain in the living room is drawn open even before the sun is up. The cold air of the morning had fogged the glass window but with a click of a button, it cleared. Seokjin begin fluffing the cushion on the sofa, fix the runner on the coffee table and cleared the kitchen counter ready for breakfast. It’s almost 6.45am. You’ll be up and you would wake Lily right after. But before that, you will steal his coffee mug.
“Morning to you too,” he monotonously said while you grab his mug from his hand.
“I hate Mondays…” You grumbled.
“But today is Tuesday…” he corrected you, glancing at the digital calendar on the fridge.
“A second monday is no different,” You placed the mug down, and leaned on his arm.
“What time did you sleep last night?” he asked, shaking his arm sporadically to keep you awake because it seemed that you snoozed on them.
“Late, late…” you muttered.
Because of that, Seokjin offered to wake Lily this time around. But only today. Lily is draped over her father’s able body as he walks around, getting the laundries to run so he could dry them on time before the noon drama begins. You are in the shower, still whining about having to leave for work, trashing and sighing and whatever adults do when they have to work to get the bills paid. Sitting in your bathrobe, Seokjin had your oatmeal ready. Lily is on his lap while he fed her overnight yoghurt. She has school this morning, online classes. Lily always had a soft spot for her dad. Technically, he’s mom. He’s the one at home while the mom works. He teaches vocal lessons online after the virus decided to return to the community. He doesn’t really prefer online classes, literally no one does. It’s just not the same. You on the other hand, would have preferred working at home instead. If only you could bring those machines home. The vaccine development is in its pilot state, and there are so many things to be done. Your present is required in all the meetings.
Yesterday, you were up late to decipher the most recent problem your team encountered. The DNAs are denatured when it is transferred into the carrier and no matter how much you argued, (how impossible it was to happen) since there was no presence of heat at all to have caused the denature, it happened anyways.
“Phones off the table please, mummy…” Seokjin warned.
Typing frantically a few more sentences, your phone is taken away by your husband and set on the side table, mere an arm length away. Lily watches in silence and while you wretched in silent agony.
“What’s happened?” Seokjin asked.
Telling him everything, explaining it in simple words. Your animated way of telling stories comes in beneficial today, even Lily is engaged. Then the shoulders dropped. The tone mellows and your lips begin to mumble when you hit the no-answer part of the story, the part where it leaves you stuck.
“And I don’t know what to do to fix that particular mishap…”
Seokjin pursed his lips. That’s when Lily reached her little arms out to you.
“It’s okay, mummy. You’ll find a way to do it today…” She even pats your knuckle while at it. You switched your palm upward and held her hand. Seokjin smiled proudly at her, and kissed her hard on the head. You both shared a look across the kitchen counter, and you know you both are thinking of the same thing; Lily surely is an angel. She may be 7, but she doesn’t know just how much that meant to you. You will walk the headquarters today, a lot more confident than you did yesterday, and when you are confident, you are able to look through windows that are otherwise shut. That reminds you of Seokjin truly. He just always had so much faith in you that even if you don’t have it in you, you would think you do just because he believed so.
He hands you your lunch by the door. A hug for a minute every day, therapists say, would be good for the mind, body and soul. Sometimes it drags longer than that, depending on the severity of the situation. But he smells like bed and toothpaste in the morning, with his little bed hair that you wouldn’t mind doing it for an hour. Lily leans down for a kiss on the cheek and she hands you a facemask before you leave while Seokjin hands you the car key. Usually he would drive you to work and fetch you home but since both of his classes and Lily’s are online, there’s no need to go back and forth, exposing themselves to the virus even more while being out. You would like it better if they never had to leave home. Lily waves you goodbye from the door and Seokjin watches you leave with a smile stuck on his face. And you looked back thinking, the year may have taken a number of things, but they’ve also strengthened the little family you have.
Walking in with a comfortable glide by the lounge of the already bustling office, wait… Bustling? Everyone rushed in and out pushing carts of files and trays. Even the decors are being moved about. What is going on? You tilted your head to one side and looked for a familiar face. But seeing no one you know, you opened the door to your office and dialled Yoongi, your trustee alliance in the building. He answered with a cocky huff, “You don’t know? The investors are coming in today!”
Yoongi can be all kinds of things, but lying isn’t one. It was not impossible for investors to come in without a proper walkthrough towards the manufacture of the vaccine but, isn’t this way too early?
“I think they’re antsy, the economy is at its lowest this time of day and they want profit… Capitalists,” Yoongi swings in with his coffee mug.
“I thought this would be on Friday, I would have had everything ready on Friday,” you fussed, shifting papers and files, frantically typing on last modifications on the presentation you had prepared.
“That, you could blame your rookie assistant, the new boy, what’s his name,” Yoongi clicked his tongue, proceeds to think hard.
“Yeonjun?”
“Yes, Yeonjun. He got the time zone all wrong…”
You shut your eyes in agony. Noticing your silence, Yoongi took a seat in front of, swivel in the chair in the behaviour of an heir to a convenient store chain, before stopping dead in front of you, voice deeper than the sea.
“Mrs. Kim,” he said, “Aren’t you afraid?
“Of what?”
“The investors that are coming are Astra Pharmaceutics…”
“So?”
“They’re linked to your in-laws medical centres… before your marriage with Kim Seokjin.”
Astra Pharma. It is a joint company orchestrated by your father-in-law, their first ever attempt to venture into the medical line. How could you forget the name of the company? Astra Pharma is owned by a powerful chaebol Kim clan, one of which Seokjin grew up with. They have a daughter that they wanted Seokjin to marry with. That was 10 years ago, which means that that daughter is going to pioneer the company now, and her name is Kim Yoojin. Every year she sends a bouquet of flowers to Seokjin’s family restaurant on New Year's. She never missed any stores that Seokjin family opens.
Yoongi searched her name on Naver for you. She is standing on the patio, giving out speeches. It most certainly didn’t help that she is elegant, stunning and charismatic. Even as she walked into the meeting room right now, with her entourage. She really wants to talk business. And you know nothing about that. Your defenses are science, your core is pharmaceutical and your strength is knowledge. If she begins a financial jargon with you, you will be making a fool out of yourself. Somehow, knowing that she is the preferred daughter-in-law, makes it even worse.
No room for mistakes.
Dial tone, and again, unanswered.
“Where could mummy be…” Seokjin hums.
“A meeting probably…” Lily replied.
Seokjin gapes his mouth open to have his daughter feed him a biscuit. Lily, being a little rascal refuses to give up her biscuits.
“That’s right, that’s how I raised you, don’t share unless you get something too,” Seokjin joked around. Seokjin might have left the stove running when he answered a call from his mother. Lily was drawing on the dining table, waiting for her next online class. She is to take pictures of her drawings and send them to her teacher. Seokjin returns to the kitchen, placing the phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear.
“Son,” she began, “Why don’t you take your wife to a resort this weekend so Lily could spend the weekend with her grandparents here in Hannam… wouldn’t that be nice?”
Seokjin squeezed his eyes, and set down that spatula.
“Mom….” he warned, “Is there something else you would like to tell me?”
After hearing what his mother had to say, Seokjin rushed out the door along with Lily, driving down the white Palisade to Hannam mansion where his mother was waiting outside. Seokjin drops Lily and rushes inside the mansion to grab a few more things. But before he leaves, he locks his eyes on his mother and says with utmost firmness, “You and I will have to talk after I get this settled.” His mother gave him a stricken smile while Lily smiled wickedly at her father. Blue Lamborghini, Aventador S engine roars as it sped out the garage door. Seokjin pulls down the window to speak to his daughter, “Behave, or else…” Lily gave out an ‘OK’ sign with her fingers.
The luxurious car then sped out into the street.
There weren’t any mistakes. Any investors coming would have been persuaded by the way you carry the presentation. The marketing strategy and pilot scale up plans are concise and rectified. The points are delivered extensively and with proper explanation. However, when you were prepared for scientific questions and whatnot, you come to realise that the CEO of Astra Pharma was interested in anything but science.
“How is Kim Seokjin?”
Everyone else in the room was taken aback by the strangely intimate question posed on a vaccine presentation. It was out of line and obviously, out of place. Even as a person as wealthy as her. Not only was it a deliberate display of her unprofessionalism, she was also bringing down her company’s image. It’s like she is ready to overturn the hard work her parents put into raising her, for a man who is married to someone else.
“He is… perfectly well, though I am not sure what’s that has got to do with our topic of discussion for today…”
You mumbled the last few words to yourself. What is she doing? What is she thinking of doing? Steal Seokjin back? If that’s her intention, then it's the worst strategy she could ever come up with. Not only would it fail her immensely, Seokjin will literally drag her and her family’s face down in the dirt for even trying to tear his family apart. You know him enough to know that he would fight the world for his wife and kids. Hence, that’s why you couldn’t understand Yoojin’s motive to bring this all up, ten years after. Is she trying to embarrass you? In the middle of a presentation filled by scientists who care nothing about the personal lives of one of their own? She is only making a fool out of herself, despite her money.
“You must have been so confused… as to why I brought up your husband in this…” she stood up in her Swarovski studded heels. She made her way to you around the table, enticing everyone in the room with her walk and her words.
“No, I am confused as to why a company like yours is interested in investing in the same exact study your own university is working on. It’s like buying the exact same cows doing the exact same thing, producing the exact type of product with twice the price,” you tracted.
“I guess that’s why he liked you,” she looks down to the floor and up the ceiling with a cunning smile, “You’re a sheep in the pack of wolves.” She locked her hyena-like eyes to you. The hair in the back of your neck stood up. You have no idea what she meant by that.
“I am investing for you to stop. Your formula is bound to fail anyways. So before the company suffers any more losses due to your incompetence, I suggest you halt all activity and let the high rollers play the game. This field is not for amateurs.”
“I think you might have forgotten that I am a scientist, not a businesswomen. Your concern is not mine to worry. My job is to get to my vaccines and make sure it works, and that’s what I’m paid to do. Whether or not you invested, is none of my concerns.”
You collected your things on the desk. And she smiled wickedly,
“Well then, you leave me no choice, I will have to sue you for forging the templates my company has patented…”
“How do you sue me for fraud if I don’t do any forging?”
“You’re surely a meek girl… Seokjin will have to cushion the blow with an expensive legal fee now don’t he?”
Was there a mole in the company? Yoongi walks in. Along with Seokjin.
“Tell them what you did,” Seokjin said, and then, “Tell them what you did!” He thundered.
Yoongi confessed to stealing the documents and making it seem like it was forged. He also sent the emails and had them edited so the dates were wrong. He was paid handsomely by Astra Pharma to send all updates on the formula which then led the pharma company to imitate the make-ups protein-by-protein. He used the friendship he had established with you to gain all access to your files. He also confessed that he refused to continue doing it and when he decided to pull the plugs from Astra Pharma, Astra Pharma threatened him. He had no choice but to abide to the play Yoojin wanted orchestrated. When it was clear what Yoojin actually wanted (to spill dirt on your name so she could feel above you for once in her life after she lost Seokjin), Yoongi decided to come clean. He came to Seokjin’s mother and begged for forgiveness, because it was through her that he had gotten a job in your pharma company.
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Seokjin leans on his blue lamborghini, waiting for you to come outside. He has his Raybans on and a black bomber jacket over a white tee.
“Are you mad at my family?”
“Won’t you be?”
The car door lifts up and you climb in.
“You should have just married her and this all could have been avoided.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
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Copyright © january 5th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading!
#rough#bts#thekimlinenetwork#hyunglinenet#bangtanarmynet#jin#husband seokjin#husband au#kim seokjin#bts seokjin#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bangtanfics#jin scenarios#jin reactions#jin fanfics#jin ff#bts ff#kpop#fanfics#fluff#husband jin
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Chop It Like It’s Hot
Chapter 2: Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Fire
@lumosinlove Thank you for your lovely characters! This has been so fun to write. :)
Hope you guys enjoy!
Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist
Leo took one look one look at his co-star slumped at a table in the break room and changed his trajection to include a stop at the coffee machine. “Morning, Dorcas.”
“You’re not allowed to talk right now.”
He laughed under his breath, pressing the espresso button and opening the fridge to look for any non-expired milk products. “Talking is a big part of our job, you know.”
“Does it look like I’m on the clock right now?”
Leo hummed noncommittally, stirring some whole milk into the coffee before sliding it across the table to Dorcas. “Rough night?”
She grabbed the mug and took a tentative sip. Her shoulders relaxed fractionally and she let out a relieved sigh. “I forgot that you actually know how to make office coffee taste good.”
“I’m offended that you doubted me.” Leo took the empty seat next to her. “Now what happened?”
Dorcas looked down at her hands wrapped tightly around her mug, expression carefully neutral. “I broke up with her.” She laughed humorlessly. “I knew it wasn’t working for a while now, so I don’t understand why I’m so upset about it. Our schedules never lined up and we never really saw each other anymore. So I figured it was best to do it now instead of dragging it out.”
Leo knew she wasn’t one for physical affection, so he just sat by her side. “Still hurts, though. She was a big part of your life for a while now; it’s ok to be upset about it, no matter what the circumstances of the breakup are.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to be ok. Might not feel like it right now, but you’re as tough as they come.”
“Relationships are shit.”
“Breakups are shit.” Leo corrected gently.
“You know, sometimes people just want to feel like shit for a while. You don’t have to try and fix everything all the time.” She said, but her voice was teasing instead of accusatory. “How are you not emotionally exhausted all the time?”
“A lifetime of practice and sheer force of will.”
Dorcas laughed and shoved him away. “You suck.”
“If you want someone to just rant to, I can definitely make room for that tonight. You can experiment with your cocktail recipes, then get unbelievably drunk off them and trash talk all night.”
“You just want free drinks.”
“Consider it payment for the coffee and pep talk.” He said, rising to his feet. “Come on, we should get to the studio.”
She smiled and followed Leo out the door. “If there’s one thing guaranteed to cheer me up, it’s watching other people fail spectacularly at cooking.”
Dorcas got the cue from the director and started their cooking segment. “Recruits, today I’ll be showing you how to make perfectly-done mashed potatoes, and chef Leo will be teaching you how to make bone-in ribeye. Make sure you’re taking notes – you can use those when you attempt to recreate this dish later today.” There was a frantic flurry of movement as everyone took their notepads out and tried to find their pens.
“All right,” Leo grabbed a large slab of ribeye from the ingredients counter with both hands and heaved it onto the front table. Several recruits flinched back while others looked sick at the sight of their meat actually resembling the animal it came from. He bit back a smile and picked up a butcher’s knife.
God, he loved this job.
“So we’re just going to cut these and then you’re going to take a towel and just basically tear this portion of the meat off in one big piece. You see that? Then we’re going to add oil to a hot pan and drop the steak in.” The sizzling sound of the Maillard reaction filled the room. “We’re going to be basting this with thyme and half a stick of butter once the meat is cooked.”
A frantic whisper of “What the hell is basting?” rose up as Dorcas took over the lead, starting by bringing water to a boil and then waiting for it to reduce to a simmer. Leo watched as several of the recruits’ eyes glazed over, completely lost as Dorcas peeled potatoes in quick, practiced movements.
Leo recognized Logan’s voice as it carried from his spot in the crowd. “Do they have a medic on this show?”
“I hope so.” Finn murmured back.
“Our steak is done now. See the color on that?” Leo grabbed the steak with a pair of tongs and held it up for the recruits to see. “Now for our sauce. Have you guys ever flambéed anything before?”
“Lo, is that French?”
Logan’s microphone just barely picked up his little chuckle. “Yes.”
“Its literal translation means ‘flamed.’” Leo supplied, watching fear develop on their faces and trying his hardest not to laugh, biting his lower lip in the process.
This was only going to end badly, in a glorious blaze of fire.
“We’ve never had a disaster happen on the show flambéing something. Let’s try to keep it that way.” He grabbed the bottle of cognac at his station. “I’m going to take all of this cognac, add it to our pan with the sauce, and light it.”
He grabbed a lighter, flicked it on, and lightly touched it to the surface of the alcohol. Pink-red flames sprung from the pan, causing several of the recruits to shout and step back in alarm. “We’re just going to let it sit and burn off that alcohol.”
Dorcas grabbed her pan and added shallots to it. “I’m going to start getting my shallots sautéed, and –“
“Shallots?” A recruit asked, confusion etched on her face.
“Yes.”
“What are those?”
Dorcas turned and grabbed a shallot from the counter behind her. “This is a shallot.”
“Oh, so an onion.”
“No.” Dorcas said plainly, grabbing a hand mixer to blend her potatoes, butter, and cream. “Once the shallots are cooked, I add them to the potatoes and mix it all together. Then all you have to do is plate all this and you’re done.”
Leo grabbed his saucepan and spooned some out. “Don’t forget to add your sauce on top of the ribeye.”
“Now it’s your job to recreate this dish on your own. You have an hour to complete this challenge. And your time starts… now!”
Chaos ensued. Knives were waved around haphazardly, chopping skills were slim to none. One recruit was still trying to turn the stove on, while another had grabbed a pan that definitely wasn’t going to be big enough for a ribeye steak.
Leo shot Dorcas a horrified look. “Did we go too fast? I thought we explained everything pretty well, but now I’m not sure.”
“That’s just the way of this show.” Dorcas said with a shrug. “We need to see what level they’re on and what their strengths and weaknesses are before we can really start teaching. It gets better when we’re allowed to get out there and help them.”
Finn and Logan had cut off their own ribeyes first and were headed back to their stations. “Oh god I don’t remember anything they showed us.” Finn stressed, putting his ribeye directly onto the pan without any oil.
Logan looked down at his thyme and butter, seemingly at a loss. “Just look at your notes.”
“I can’t read it. You know I have terrible handwriting. Look,” he flipped his notepad around to show Logan. “That’s all I wrote down.”
“Does that say goat?” Logan asked, not bothering to strip the leaves of thyme off the stems and just throwing the entire sprig of herb into his pan.
Finn turned it back around squinted. “Maybe?”
“I like your smiley faces, though.” Logan said, pressing a quick kiss to Finn’s cheek. The redhead smiled broadly.
“Thanks, baby.”
Dorcas hummed by Leo’s side. “I forgot they’re together.”
“Yeah,” Leo absentmindedly fiddled with the bracelet around his wrist. “Must be hard. Hockey’s not known for being accepting.” He tried not to think too much about his memories of locker rooms, judgmental eyes, and the slurs of his own teammates from years ago.
A shout from one of the recruits snapped him back to attention. The recruit was halfway across the room from her on-fire sauce and refusing to go back to her station. Leo sighed. “Flambéing was a horrible first lesson.”
“Maybe. But it sure is entertaining.” Dorcas raised her voice to be heard by the contestants. “Don’t leave pans on a stove unattended, please!”
“Let it rain!” Finn shouted, throwing salt into his pot of cooking potatoes. Dorcas cackled joyously as she watched.
“How much salt are you going to put in there?” Leo called, eyes wide.
Finn repeated, “Let it rain!” as if it were an actual answer.
“I think he just put a cup of salt in those potatoes.”
Dorcas was wheezing now, hunched over as she laughed.
“Laugh now, but we’re the ones who have to taste that.”
She instantly stopped laughing. “Oh shit.”
“We’re definitely going to need those drinks tonight.”
***
Logan’s dish was up first. Leo looked down at his steak and fished out a thyme stem, holding it up for him to see. “When you’re working with thyme, you really need to just use the leaves. When the stems are cooked they get really tough and can be like swallowing fish bones when they’re like this.” He cut into the ribeye and took a bite. “But your steak tastes really good. It’s perfectly cooked and not too dry.”
Logan flashed them a blinding smile (that might have left Leo a little speechless, but he wasn’t planning on admitting that anytime soon).
“The potatoes have a good consistency, too.” Dorcas added when Leo didn’t say anything else. “Good job, Logan.”
After several raw steaks, burned steaks, and soupy mashed potatoes were tasted, the dish both of the chefs were dreading the most appeared in front of them.
Finn’s potatoes.
Dorcas looked to Leo, then met Finn’s eyes. “Now, I haven’t come across many things I’m genuinely afraid to eat. But these potatoes…”
Finn laughed good-naturedly. “Yikes.”
Leo’s eyes bulged as he tried the potatoes. “I think I’m dehydrated now.”
“I think I have a water bottle somewhere, if you want it.”
“I’m tempted to take you up on that.” Dorcas said, voice strained. “In the future, go light on the salt.”
In the end, they had to eliminate the contestant who gave them burned steak and didn’t serve mashed potatoes at all. The directors called cut shortly after that and people visibly relaxed, chatting with friends while the cleaning crew came through and started dealing with the mess. Leo felt like he should probably help with that; there sure was a lot to clean. The crew would be here until midnight at this rate. So he grabbed a disinfectant spray and a rag, turning to start wiping things down and almost running right into Logan as he did so.
“Hey, chef!” Finn said from his spot next to the brunet. “Have your taste buds recovered yet?”
He laughed with a shrug. “I have a feeling they’ll be messed up from now until a month after this show ends. That might be for the best, anyways.”
“Why in the hell did you sign up for this?” Logan asked, head tilted in confusion. “You’re forced to eat awful food and watch a bunch of amateurs destroy this kitchen. Seems more stressful than anything.”
“I mean, watching you wave around that knife today just about gave me a heart attack-“ Finn interrupted him with a loud burst of laughter, causing Leo to smile as he continued, “But it’s fun teaching y’all. It’s a good change of pace. Doing just competitions gets old after a while.”
“Yeah, especially if you win all of them.”
Leo felt his cheeks heat up. “Not all of them.”
“Most of them, then.” Logan amended. “Don’t sell yourself short; you’re really good.”
“So are you guys.” Leo stammered a little, trying to think of the right words. “I – I just wanted to say it’s really cool that you’re both raising so much awareness for the need for diversity in hockey. It’s going to make a world of difference to a lot of people.”
I wish I’d had someone like the two of you to look up to when I was growing up.
He played with his bracelet again. It wasn’t a secret that he was gay – he’d talked about it a few times on various shows and competitions he’d participated in. That was one of the best things about the cooking industry. It didn’t matter who you were or what your secrets were; as long as you were a good cook, most people didn’t really care. Leo had realized at a young age that, no matter what he ended up doing with his life, he wasn’t going to hide any part of himself. He’d done that dance before, and he didn’t care to relive it any time soon.
Finn smiled, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Well, thanks. It hasn’t always been the easiest, but we’re happy.”
Leo resolutely ignored the strange pang in his chest at those words. It wasn’t fair of him to be jealous. “I’m glad.” He glanced around and noticed the progress the crew had made. “I should probably go. We’ve still got a lot to do before we head out.”
“Do you guys need any help?”
Leo couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Seeing that you made most of this mess, maybe we should have you clean up,” he teased Finn, who pouted. “But no, we’re fine. Thanks for the offer, though. Y’all have a good night.”
“You too!” Logan called over his shoulder. He leaned over to whisper something to Finn, who threw his head back and laughed.
Leo turned away and started wiping down the nearest counter.
***
Post-Episode Interview
Leo: *gives the camera a pained look* Is cooking really this hard for people? I want to get out there and help them so badly, but I can’t. We’re supposed to just observe for this challenge.
The video switches from Leo talking to footage from the earlier challenge: Leo grimacing and taking an aborted step towards a recruit getting his face way too close to the fire. Leo looking on in horror as another recruit wields a knife incorrectly and nearly loses a finger. Dorcas laughing as a recruit tries to grab her potatoes out of a pot of hot water with her bare hands while Leo reaches out and grabs onto the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip. “Oh god, this isn’t safe at all.” Dorcas ruffles his hair, standing on her tiptoes to do so. “Poor rookie. You get used to it.”
*Back to Leo in the interview room, pinching the bridge of his nose*
Leo: My hair will be completely gray by the end of this show.
#lumosinlove#Sweater Weather#Coast To Coast#finn o'hara#logan tremblay#leo knut#o'knutzy#chop it like it's hot
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Our Little Piece of Heaven - Julius Novachrono LEMON
Words - 2666
Summary - Being the Queen of Clover Kingdom had its ups and its downs but your little piece of heaven exceeded all.
A/n - This is unedited and it took days to write so it kinda jumps but its good, hope you enjoy!
"JULIUS!" Marx screamed for the wizard king, he was, of course, missing from his office, again. But this time, Marx knew Julius couldn't be late for something as important as this. It was the coronation of the new Queen and he only had 3 minutes to find the missing mage.
"Julius- oh god, JULIUS!" He spotted just trying to dodge around a corner, but just before he could get away. Marx grabbed his wrist and pulled him the other direction. A strength you wouldn't think he had suddenly reared its head as he dragged Julius ruthlessly down the halls of the castle.
"Marx I was really busy-"
"TOO BUSY FOR THE CEREMONY?!? I'm sorry, Julius, but this is your job. And it's my job to get you there on time so let's go!" Julius swore his arm was going to pop out of its socket.
***
The beginning of the ceremony was bland and boring. All the royals and nobles gathering for the event, gossiping about the new queen. What she looked like was a mystery, some said she was a brunette, some said a blonde, and few thought of a fiery redhead. Julius was rather annoyed but kept his smile tight, but when he saw her, he couldn't help but let his jaw drop.
The trumpets began and the guards opened the door to show off the beauty who was to be King Augustus' wife. The world seemed to stop as Julius laid his eyes on her. A long and cascading dress falling from her shoulders. Sewn together was the most gorgeous green he had seen, with highlighting gold clovers falling down the length of it. For a second he thought he might have set off a spell on accident but when the sound of the screechy King's voice filled his ears, he was suddenly brought back to reality.
"She is simply gorgeous, isn't she? Yes, yes, I just can't wait for tonight." The thought of the hands of the bastard on your body drove some kind of anger in Julius that he had never felt before. He had to stop himself from reaching over and grabbing the coward by the neck, ring him out in front of the entire upper-class capital, and he knew he could get away with it too.
Alas, he could not.
As you reached the end of the room, the blessing began. While this would be your coronation, it would also be the wedding, so as the priest began his preaching of matrimony, everyone else readied the crown and vows.
It all seemed to go by in a blur though because as Julius blinked, the whole thing seemed to be over.
"Smitten, sir?" Julius smiled softly and looked down and Marx as everyone began to vacate, leaving the newlyweds to do... well what newlyweds do.
"Can't be, Marx. She's the Queen." Evading a proper answer Julius began to walk away, slower than usual. Marx cared not to follow, somehow knowing he should let the Wizard King be alone, just this once.
***
It wasn't long before Julius saw you again, it was actually the next morning. You had bumped into him while trying to sneak out of your own room. You let out a short scream as you feel unbalanced, but before you could hit the ground, Julius' hands shot around your waist. Grabbing onto the fluffy collar of his robe you steadied yourself. You didn't look up at him until he spoke, too busy trying to straighten yourself out.
"Rough night?" It wasn't until you looked up that he realized who he was holding, and when he did, he had to stop himself from squeezing tighter.
"Oh, I uh, guess you could say that, yes." You stepped back looking down and combing back a piece of disheveled hair. Julius' eyes shot to your neck looking for any sign of harm or marking but found nothing.
"Are you... okay?" He couldn't help but ask. Your eyes seemed to drop their false cheeriness and instead turn gloomy and sad.
"Uhm yeah, as happy as I can be being, married against my will and all."
"I'm sorry... He didn't...?" Julius couldn't finish the thought, less the sentence.
"What? Oh! Oh, no. I think that was the only good thing that happened yesterday." Your face dropped again and Julius couldn't stand it.
"Well, I wouldn't say the only thing, you did look absolutely dazzling in the dress." A furious blush burned your cheeks as you looked away, a smile pulling at your lips. He was smitten.
"I'm sorry, you know who I am, but I don't know you."
"Me? Why, I'm Julius Novachrono, at your service, your majesty."
"Oh my, I'm sorry! I didn't know I was in the presence of the Wizard King!" You seemed to straighten yourself more and tried to act more posh and proper.
"Oh no, don't apologize, I'm quite unprofessional." You stopped for a second before your strict and stiff manner dropped suddenly when you burst out in laughs.
"I'm sorry, I've never met someone quite like you."
"Yes, well I hope you'll find I'm like no other."
***
Months pass and you only grow closer to the strongest mage. You found his humor to be inappropriate and rather bash but his lack of regard for other nobles and royals is what truly brought you closer.
Right now you both were running away from Marx, Julius had some work to do but it seemed he couldn't do much of it anymore with you running around his thoughts. Some more coarse and indecent than others. He couldn't rid himself of thoughts of you filling his ears as you raced down the halls together, Marx and guards close on your tail.
"Your Majesty please-!" But in the blink of an eye, you two were gone. Teleported to a little cabin sitting in the woods hundreds of miles away. It wasn't the first time Julius had taken you here before. It was your little safe haven. You found it when Julius spirited you away from the kingdom one late night to watch a meteorite shower on a tall hill. A blanket and a basket had been laid out for you two, with a candle already lit.
"Julius?" You questioned. Turning to find him with a few flowers in his hand.
"I must admit, Your Majesty, you've thrown me through quite the whirl, and continue to do so." He whispered, twirling the little flowers in his hand. You walked over slowly, reaching out to fix the chain that held his coat on and together. It always seemed to twist and tangle throughout the day and you seemed to always find yourself fixing it.
"I told you to call me Y/n." You answered, not knowing how to answer such a confession. You liked the Wizard King, a lot more than you should have, but knowing Augustus- this would get you both killed. He chuckled and grabbed your hands, holding them and rubbing at your wrists. It was quiet after that, sort of holding each other before you looked up at him.
"Have I ever told you I love your eyes." His eyes were so warm and they always seemed to sparkle slightly. "They're so gorgeous..."
You didn't know who moved first but you could never forget the moment Julius' lips touched yours. Soft and endearing he kissed you, tenderaly wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer. You kissed for a few minutes before pulling away and setting down, wrapped up in each other and enjoyed the shower.
After, you decided to go on a walk and found the abandoned cabin. It was in a small clearing protected by massive amounts of mana. Small purple flowers enveloped the little cottage, glowing softly and illuminating the soft surroundings.
"Did you..?" Julius shook his head, looking on with as much excitement and amazement as you.
Looking at it now the cottage had excelled each of your expectations. When you and Julius returned from your night, he had sought for the owner of the cabin only to find it had been abandoned for sometime. He bought it without hesitance and without telling you too. He only began to dread the idea after, what if this was moving too fast? Hell, you were already married to the king, what was he doing? But one night when you had been hanging out in his office, helping him with anywork you could understand, you found both the billings and structural reports for it.
"What's this?" Julius knew what was in your hands the moments he looked up from his own pile of papers. "Is this- Julius?" Your head shot up with a huge smile stretched across your face.
"You bought it!" Before he could even blink, your arms were around his neck and your lips on his. He couldn't waste a single second, gripping you tight he kissed you back with fever. He had been thinking of your lips everyday since that night and was ready to risk everything to feel them, thankfully you had no problem kissing him first.
"Now we have to decorate!"
You both would sneak away to clean it up and trim back plants. You wanted to keep it mostly natural because it was gorgeous that way, but of course, you had to make sure the foundation was secure and safe to stay on. The house was already in pretty good shape, just some dusting and furnishing and it was already perfect.
***
Walking in the fire was already set, the cabin was warm and welcoming like a fucking hug. It was your little piece of heaven with him. Where you could really be with him. You were sick of it, aching for him while your husband sleeps besides you drunk of liquor and the women he had fucked earlier. It annoyed but and the same time you were thankful he hadn't really tired to put his hands on you besides a little groping.
Tonight you would welcome Julius to your bed and you pretend this was normal. You weren't the Queen and Julius wasn't the Wizard King. You could be together in your little piece of heaven.
***
After dinner and some sitting outside and watching the flowers come to life, you felt it was time. You stood from your seat and set your glass besides Julius' on his side table. He looked up at you, curious and almost innocent looking- but you knew more than anything he wasn't and touch close to innocent.
"Y/n?" He leant back in his seat, almost as if he knew what you were going to do all along, and then it struck you. You straddled him with a laugh and wrapped your arms around his neck.
"You knew where this was going all along didn't you?" you questioned, a smile pulled on your lips.
"I admit, I was worried when you said you wanted to get away for a few days."
"Worried?"
"I thought... I thought you might want to stop and I- I just wanted to be prepared, so I know." You cupped his cheeks, leaning forward you kissed him.
"I never want to stop. Never." He smiled and kissed you kissed you back, his hands were hot on your hips and slide up your back, one going to tangle in your hair. You pulled back for air and ground your hips slightly, tightening your thighs around him. You didn't mean to but it felt good. Julius nipped at your neck and growled against your ear,
"Again," You did, again and again and again. The friction felt good, and lit and little fire that filled your veins and warmed your belly, but you need more. Gripping his hair you pull him back from kissing against your neck and collar bone, panting hard and griping him tightly.
"Bed, now." You found yourself against your sheets before you could blink, Julius was above you, staring at you seriously.
"Are you sure about this? I mean if anyone-
"I've never been more sure of anything else in my life, Julius." You pressed back and lifted the simple dress you had been wearing and threw it the side. You shrank a little in graze and even went to wrap your arms around your free breasts but he pushed forward and kissed the tops of them, kissing lower and lower before his lips wrapped around your bud sucking softly and skimming his teeth against it just right. Gripping his hair, it took a little to hold back your small cries, sensitive to such a new feeling. He showered both tits with attention before kissing down your naval and pulling your panties down your legs. Julius leaned back a little and watched as you tentatively opened your legs, embarrassed to be beared open and dripping.
"God, you're gorgeous." Julius leaned forward to kiss up your thighs leading to your centre. He blew lightly against your clit and you tensed before relaxing, only to be surprised by the soft glide of his tongue up your slit.
"Oh- J-Julius!" Your head falling back against the sheets as your hand tangles in his blonde hair . It went all like that for a few minutes before you felt Julious push in to you, making you tense and grip him a little tighter. He pulled away and kissed at your thigh, waiting for you to relax before moving his finger.
"It's okay," You let out a breath and whined, he curled his against you and rubbed just right making you rock your hips against his hand in a gentle rhythm. "That's it.." Julius climbed up and kissed at your neck, thumb moving to rub against your clit.
It wasn't anything crazy, just a moment, goosebumps covered your skin and your breathing stopped for a few seconds, head blank and fuzzy you moaned, releasing a small burst of fire in your belly, relaxed against the sheets. Feeling a little tired you peeked your eye open to see Julius looking down in slight concern but nonetheless content.
"Do you want to stop?" He asked, kissing gently at your shoulder.
"No, come here." You turned his head and captured his lips, pulling him between your legs more comfortably. He pressed against you gently before pushing in, gentle and slow he waited for you. He ground against you, testing, and was pleased to hear the small moan leave your lips. He pulled back and thrust, loving the way your arms gripped at him.
"Please, just a little faster," You whispered pleadingly in his ear, he couldn't take it, and he did go faster and just a little harder. He wanted nothing but to ruin you, months of pent up frustration waiting to be released, but there was time for that later, right not it was for you.
"Julius!" You cried and angled perfect thrust, hitting a spot that sent your stomach in knots. "T-There-!" It didn't take long for you to cum again with the aimed thrust. Griping at his back, you clawed down his back a little, this time it was more intense, making you squeeze your legs around him.
The feeling of you cumming on his cock had him there in seconds, he pulled out fast and finished on your stomach and breasts. He wanted nothing more than to cum inside you and see you dripping with his seed, but he couldn't risk you getting pregnant. Not yet.
Julius settled besides you as you too caught your breath. You turned and cuddled into his side, pulling the top sheet over you. Julius' arm came to wrap around you and pull you closer. You felt him draw shapes against your back, soothing you to sleep.
"Julius?"
"Mhmm?"
"I love you." His fingers paused and he turned to look down at you. He gripped your chin gentle and kissed you, softly and timely, he pulled back.
"I love you too."
#Black Clover#black clover smut#julius novachrono#Julius novachrono smut#xreader#lemon#original work#Julius novachron x reader
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Bloodlines || Draco Malfoy
Requested: No
Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader
Warnings: alcohol and some angst
WORDS : 1767
~~~
Song - Bloodlines by Sleeping With Sirens
"Try not to be like mom and dad, realize you're just fucked like them."
"Are we bound to lose? Maybe we just don't get to choose."
"Is it in our DNA? Was I just born this way?"
~~~
"Another one." Draco Malfoy declares to the bartender as he slams his empty brandy glass back onto the bar. He's always loved muggle bars- the awkward stench of desperation and misery wafting through the air, and the weird music they play to keep themselves busy- absolute chaotic perfection.
Not that wizard bars are much of an option for him- after the war ended six months ago, most wizards cut ties with the Malfoys and made a public show of shunning them. In wizard bars he's usually followed by cold stares and hushed whispers- about his parents and their sentence Azkaban- which makes it particularly difficult for him to drink away his sorrows in peace.
So this is now how most of his nights are spent- hopping from bar to bar and getting blackout drunk in an effort to erase the itch of memories from the war. The silence of the night is too heavy in the Malfoy Manor- all it does is remind him of the muffled screams and pleas of people that had been trapped in his house only months before- and he can't sleep there at night.
Sometimes the moonlight creates dancing shadows across the hallways- shadows that so starkly resemble death eaters floating through his house- and it takes everything in him to not set the entire house on fire. Every time he pulls out his wand he remembers the way his aunt had tortured Hermione Granger in their foyer, and he wishes that he could just snap it in half. Every time he thinks that he can move on and escape the past, it just finds another way to follow him.
He takes his refill and starts sipping it- hoping that peace will find him before the bottom of the glass does.
~~~
Across the bar- drowning her sorrows in a bottle of gin- is Zara Jameson. Her and the blonde had known, and hated, each other throughout their Hogwarts careers- constantly bickering and arguing with every opportunity that had presented itself. She'd hated him and everything he stood for- the spoiled, pretentious Slytherin prince- and her hate had only grown when the Dark War had fallen upon them and he'd found himself on the wrong side.
But that last night- when Voldemort had finally been defeated- she'd seen a shadow of the boy she'd always known as he walked to his parents, and all the hate had completely dissipated. She'd spent years despising him and yet in their final moments together she could only muster up pity for the blonde- realising that he'd only been a product of his parents love, or lack thereof.
She takes a sip of her gin and takes a look around the room- trying to find someone that she can use as a distraction for the night. Her eyes spot that familiar tint of blonde and she almost falls over- reality hitting her like a freight train. While he's being haunted by the memories of the war- thinking about them with every waking moment he has- she's been doing the opposite and pretending that it had never happened.
Even though the pain of losing her parents and friends has never left, she's managed to shove it down so far that it's merely a dull ache of a memory now. But seeing him sends all those memories flooding through her mind again, at full force- the sound of screams filling her ears and drowning out the music that's blaring through the room. She takes a deep breath and runs her hands down her face- trying desperately to collect herself- before doing something that she never thought she'd do.
She gets up and walks toward the blonde for a chat.
~~~
"I'll have some of what he's having." Zara tells the bartender as she sits herself beside Draco- who hasn't yet turned to look at her.
He groans, "Look, I'm not particularly interested in-" The words fall out of his mouth once he turns to find that the girl sitting next to him is Zara. He looks back it his glass quietly and gulps- remembering the way she'd looked terrified the last time he'd seen her.
"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy." She rolls her eyes- picking up the glass of brandy that's been dropped in front of her and taking a swig of the foul drink.
"You'd actually be surprised how many times I've had to decline women's advances." He sighs and takes a sip of his drink- still refusing to look at her. "Even when I look like this." He gestures to his appearance.
Zara takes him in- noticing the way his hair has grown longer and now falls in his face slightly, and the stubble he has forming by his chin. "You look the way you should after something like that."
"What the fuck do you want?" He turns to her finally and asks- his voice raw like he's been crying for hours. "I hope this isn't some kind of scolding session, because believe me I've had enough of those."
"I'm not here to argue with you Malfoy."
"Are you here to console me? Because my parents are in Azkaban and I'm alone now? Or better yet, mock me for my misfortune?"
"I'm not here for any of that."
"Then what is it? What could the great Zara Jameson possible want with the tainted Draco Malfoy?"
"I just thought maybe you could use some company."
"Not sure it'd look good if you were seen with me. Your parents might disprove." He mumbles- remembering how much her parents had hated his own, not that he blames them.
"My parents are dead, Malfoy. Killed by death eaters- people like your parents." She says coldly as she finishes her drink, "I came here because I thought that maybe if anyone could understand trying to forget that it'd be you, but maybe I was wrong."
Draco feels guilt cage him and grabs her arm to stop her leaving. "I'm sorry, please stay."
"Are you done spitting in my face?" She crosses her arms.
"Yes." She slides back into the seat and gestures for the bartender to bring an entire bottle. "I'm sorry about that- the last six months have been rough."
"Don't I know it."
"Um, I'm sorry, about your parents-"
"No. No apologies." She opens the bottle and pours brandy into her glass before passing the bottle to him. "I've heard so many of those that I think I can probably predict what you'll say next."
He refills his glass and twirls the liquid around nervously. "Have you managed?"
"Managed what?"
"To forget?" He looks at her hopefully.
"No." She takes a deep breath in, "I didn't have the strength to obliviate myself."
"I didn't either." He blinks away the memory of all the dead bodies in his house, "I think I deserve to remember."
"I think we all deserve to remember."
"Why?"
"So we learn our lesson- so we learn to be better."
"What do you possibly have to learn? Your parents weren't death eaters- they weren't murderers."
"That doesn't mean they were good people. They might not have been death eaters but they were horrible people too, Draco."
"You called me Draco." He remarks absent-mindedly.
"I think you deserve to be separated from your family name." She smiles at him softly and he looks at her with a puzzled expression- not understanding where this newfound tolerance of hers has come from. "I want to be separated from my family name."
"Why?"
"There's too much weight in it." She sips her drink. "Everyone wants me to follow in my parents footsteps and take over their dynasty."
"You don't want to?"
"Not at all."
"Why not?"
"Why do you keep asking me for explanations?" She laughs and he shrugs with a sheepish smile.
"I'm curious Zara."
"You called me Zara." She smiles at him again and this time he gives a genuine smile back. "I'm worried that following in their footsteps will turn me into them."
"It doesn't have to." He pops some peanuts from the bar into his mouth and continues speaking, "You can change what you were born into."
"Can I really?"
"Yes, Zara."
"I don't know, maybe we just don't get to choose."
"What do you mean?"
"The fight between nature and nurture is non-existent if they're both the same." She sighs and takes some peanuts as well. "Is it in our DNA? Are we bound to lose?"
"You can't let the weight of their failures bury you."
"What am I meant to do?"
"Create your own legacy- change what the Jameson names stands for."
A silence falls between them as she ponders on his words- deciding that there is some merit in them.
"I think the worst part, is that I didn't like them enough to grieve them and it makes me feel guilty." She says after some thinking. She hasn't told anyone this- not after they died and not after she buried them.
"I feel the same way about my aunt. A part of me had even felt relieved and I haven't been able to forgive myself for it."
"Maybe we don't get to forgive ourselves- maybe instead of grief or pain we just get guilt."
"Well if that's the case then I've got guilt to spare." He downs his drink and decides that he's had enough brandy. He calls the bartender over and asks for a bottle of vodka with some cans of red bull- a mixture he'd learned from a muggle he slept with a few weeks back. "You know, I can still hear them."
"Who?"
"Everyone." He shudders, "Everyone that my family ever hurt in our home- I hear their screams every night when I try to fall asleep."
"You're still living in the Manor?" She asks in astonishment- watching him pour a shot of vodka into his glass with half a can of red bull, and doing the same.
"I can't leave."
"Why not?"
"It's a broken home- I keep hoping that I can rebuild it."
"What's it like to be all alone in a broken home?"
"Like living with shadows. I see them everywhere I turn."
"You need to leave."
"I don't deserve to leave- it's fair that they haunt me forever." He smiles sadly, "Someone needs to pay for what my parents did."
"Yes- them, not you." She places a hand on his shoulder. "Their debts aren't yours to pay."
Another silence falls upon them as they stare at each other- the real versions of each other. For the first time Zara can see the real Draco Malfoy that had been hiding underneath his jaded persona- the vulnerable and empathetic boy he'd tried so hard to hide in an effort to gain his parents approval. Draco Malfoy can finally see the Zara Jameson that everyone at Hogwarts had fallen in love with- the strong and intelligent girl that he'd been too blind to see.
"You're not so bad Jameson."
"Likewise Malfoy."
{}
Okay, that's it for my first one! I wrote it with the name Zara instead of Y/N because I had already envisioned a Zara and by the time I realised that it was just going to be a one-shot, it was too late. The rest will be written with Y/N- unless requested otherwise ofc.
But let me know what you think and please drop in a request for me.
love you all,
jean <3
#draco malfoy#draco#draco x y/n#draco imagine#draco fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#draco malfoy angst
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Before I start writing this, I wanna mention that I am the same person who runs @thedanderewearingmegane
A letter to Kim Yoosung
Hello dear, before I go on, I wanna ask you, did you eat? I know you are going through a rough time but, please don't starve yourself.
Unlike your other friends, I wont just tell you to "StOp GaMiNg" or basically anything which will give you the "just get over it" vibes because I know it very well that its quite difficult for you to snap out of what you are dealing. I also understand the fact that video games are your coping mechanism which helps you to forget your pain (or rather to say makes you numb to your feelings).
But making yourself numb to your feelings will not help you much, I dont expect you to immediately quit gaming, it will take time. I have a suggestion, have you ever thought of making a drawing or writing a piece (can be anything, a poem, a song, an essay a journal entry, LITERALLY ANYTHING). I had gone through the same experience as you and I had made a drawing. Its actually inspired from the song Eight by IU (ft Suga) since that song reminded me of the person I miss
If you are insecure about your drawing skills, Its understandable, I mean, I am personally not confident about my own skills as well. And there are other options available and OH, you can listen to songs which might reasonate with your situation, I have some suggestions for you:- Zombie (Day6), Starlight (N.flying), The Day Before (Nell), Eight (IU ft Suga), Fuyu No Hanashi (Given OST), Smiling Down (One Ok Rock). You might feel like crying while making the drawings, while writing the stuff about your feelings or while listening to these songs, but thats okay, because CRYING is thereaupatic. Another reminder:-Crying will never NEVER make you any less manly, after all men are humans and humans are bound to cry at some point.
I sometimes felt that you see yourself as a weak person because you are a sensitive young man but you know, being a sensitive young man does not make you weak, being attuned to your own emotions is one of the biggest sign of strength. There is a reason why I had never seen you as a little puppy but as a honey badger, honey badgers are one of the bravest animals out there who keep on fighting till their last breath. You are one of the bravest persons I have ever met.
You might feel that I am similar to your late cousin whom you cherish so much, and thats because according to you I am giving you that same comfort, same emotional closure which she used to give, but to be fair, I can never replace her, you might be comparing me with her while trying to compliment me but, she has her own place and so do I. Its understanble why you feel like that but every individual out there including you are unique. She was a unique person and I am as well.
As for Jihyun, well people tend to grieve differently, your feelings of suspicion are quite valid, its understandable why you feel like that because it must have been really hurtful that you were not able to see your cousin for the last time, but, there must have been dire circumstances which is forcing him to stay away. I can understand that you are mad at him but, I can assure you that he wishes well for you, he loves you too dear. Not just you are the bravest, you are the kindest and the most empathetic person I had ever met, I really appreciate how you have always tried to make me feel comfortable so I think you can well atleast make a small effort to see his point of view.
I also have learnt a lot of things for you, I truly admire your optimism, seeing you trying his best to see the brighter side of things, I too often feel the urge to stop being a Nietzsche
Yours sincerely
Dirori
#submission#untitled2001takenbyplaylist#thedanderewearingmegane#whichever you prefer i use#very nice letter 🥺🥺
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5 for the i love you prompts 💛💛
Went a little off script but I really hope you like it, love <3
I Love You Prompt List
5. Heard you tell the same story multiple times but doesn’t point it out to you when you excitedly bring it up to them again
HEA
“Alright, Missy, it’s time for bed.” Eddie smiled from the kitchen where he was drying the last of the dishes, the sound travelling from his guest bedroom. He could picture Buck cuddling the little one to his chest, swinging her around the room in time with the sleepy giggles that echoed through the hall. He’d spin once, then twice, then pull her close and kiss her hair, smelling the new baby scent he promised Eddie he wasn’t addicted to.
No one believed him.
A few more gentle kisses and he’d finally lay his niece into her crib; he was always so gentle with her head, afraid of being too rough with her (‘I’m a big guy, Eddie, I could crush her!’). He’d rolled his eyes when Maddie laughed at the idea of her baby brother hurting a fly, but that delicate hold hadn’t faded since that first day at the hospital.
Ten months old. Eddie couldn’t believe it. Ten months since this tiny bundle of joy came into their family and he’d never seen Buck happier. He doted on Amelia as much as Albert, the two brothers joining Chimney on his spiraling research sessions all throughout the pregnancy. He still had the photo Maddie had sent him of the three men huddled on the couch with a laptop and books spread around them, saved on his phone (though he hadn’t told Buck about his future teasing material).
Once she was settled in her crib, Buck would pull up a chair and read from their menial collection of books, both new and hand-me-down from Christopher, until she drifted off to sleep. He’d then stay there for a few minutes, watching her breathe – watching the slow rise and fall of her chest and the way she’d kick in her sleep like she was desperate for action – before giving in and leaving her in peace.
It was the same routine that followed every time the “singles” got roped into babysitting so Maddie and Chimney could have a few hours off. Not that it was much of a hardship. Eddie always hosted because he had the extra space (and there were much fewer hazards for the little explorer to get into), and having a baby around was…it was nice. He’d missed a lot of these moments with Christopher and while it would never make up for the time he lost with his son, it was…nice. Having Buck around – holding a baby – wasn’t so bad either.
“You’re still not ready for bed, are you?”
Eddie dried his hands, picturing those bright brown eyes staring up at his friend so earnestly. Even if Buck could resist his niece’s pleading, she still looked at her uncle like he hung the moon.
He supposed Buck did get that sort of awe and admiration from some people; understandably so.
“How about I tell you a story then.”
This, he had to hear. If Eddie thought he was bad at storytelling, Buck was worse, always skipping over parts and having to backtrack and making up the most random things and then forgetting them a few sentences later.
He supposed Amelia wouldn’t mind so much; just listening to Buck’s voice would be enough to soothe him her. Eddie tiptoed down the hallway and leaned against the wall beside the open door so he could listen to the bedtime story.
“Once upon a time, there was a boy who didn’t want to grow up.”
Peter Pan, not a bad choice.
“He loved getting to run around and be free – to make his own rules and get into trouble.”
Eddie suppressed his chuckle, careful not to make his presence known. Buck, he thought, was a little like Peter Pan.
“But more than anything, the boy wanted to help people. He loved getting to save the day, but he loved helping people get home to their loved ones even more.”
That’s not the story of…
Oh.
“You see, the boy was very lonely; and helping others feel safe, made him feel better. The boy thought he was destined to be alone forever. And he didn’t mind all that much.”
Eddie sunk back against the wall, the cold plaster grounding him while he listened with breathless curiosity.
“But then one day, he met a man, and that man showed him kindness.”
Is he talking about me or- no he couldn’t be.
“The man took him under his wing – he cared for the boy. It made his job feel like home.”
Bobby, of course. They had a relationship long before I entered the picture.
“And then the boy met a woman. She was beautiful – the fairest maiden in the land.”
Eddie couldn’t hold his breath any longer, his lungs collapsing with the weight of Buck’s words – with the wistful way he spoke about Abby.
“Her hair was like a…strawberry field in the summer sun, and her voice made him feel”
Eddie strained to listen before he realized the silence was Buck, gathering the strength to speak; lightly clearing his throat so as to not break their precarious bubble of calm.
“For the first time, the boy didn’t feel so alone. She made the boy want to grow up. The man gave him advice on how to do it but ultimately, the boy made the choice all on his own. His first big decision.”
He could practically hear Buck’s chest puff with pride even as his voice grew sad. He knew his friend’s mannerisms well; too well. He wouldn’t need to look to know Buck was pacing slowly, a light bounce to his movement, a slight twitch in his nose when he smiled (because he could never keep a smile off his face when he was holding her).
“He thought he was doing it for the fair maiden, but it wasn’t meant to be. Soon, the boy and the woman parted ways and he was left alone again.”
Eddie let his head fall back against the wall, as quietly as he could, the weight pulling down even further.
“The lonely feeling wasn’t so bad this time because he had the man to give him advice, and he had friends who helped him. And he had a sister.”
Buck was smiling, he knew it. A brighter smile because of her. Maddie, with her big heart that had been hurt so badly, until she found the person who helped her put it back together again. Through all her trials, he wondered what he would do if his sisters had ever faced such nightmares, and he never stopped Buck from texting Maddie at midnight just to check on her – even if it interrupted the movie that neither of them were watching.
“She was the best big sister in the world, and she spent many years held captive by a- a very bad man.”
He doubted that Amelia would remember if Buck used the word he actually wanted to call Doug, but it was better to be safe than sorry (and if Maddie found out that her brother had taught the little one a bad word, he would definitely be sorry).
“But she escaped, and she found the boy so they could keep each other safe. And that’s exactly what they did.”
Eddie had always admired the Buckley’s steadfast love for one another. Their close relationship made him want to call his sisters more often. He was very proud to say that he had actually followed through – mostly thanks to Buck and Maddie.
“So now the boy had lots of people who loved him; but there was still something missing for him. He wanted a family – a home.”
He knew that Buck always wanted a family. He screamed ‘father material’ in a way that sometimes made Eddie feel inadequate. More often than not, he was just grateful to have Buck by his side.
To help him with parenting.
Of course, he’d want a family. One day, Buck would find someone who could give him that (he absently wondered how he might feel about adoption).
“And then guess what happened next?”
The playful voice made Eddie smile.
“He found it.”
He…he found it?
Eddie didn’t feel his knees buckle until he was sliding to the floor, back pressed firmly against the wall to soften the blow.
When did Buck find a family? Why hasn’t he told me? Does he know how much it would hurt me? Does he know how I feel but he doesn’t know how to let me down? When did he have time to move on? Except, he’s not moving on from anything, is he.
Buck’s chuckle pulled him back to reality, though he kept his head firmly in his hands, unable to stare at the blank walls any longer.
“But I’m skipping ahead. Okay.”
Buck paused again to gather his thoughts, and Eddie could sense his pace slowing as Amelia began to drift off.
“Right around the time the sister found the boy, the boy met another boy (he was a boy because even though he was very much a grown up, he was also very lonely).”
Eddie slowly opened his eyes, still not daring to look up, but staring into the darkness between his knees. He’d come into Buck’s life around the time that Maddie arrived in town. He remembered swapping horror stories about apartment/house hunting over pizza and beers. What a coincidence.
“That boy…was beautiful in a different way.”
The hope in Buck’s voice was a slap in the face. But he just couldn’t stop listening.
“His heart, it glowed – but so did his smile. The boy loved to make him laugh and they spent all their time together; the best of friends.”
But he was Buck’s…
Oh.
Oh.
Suddenly, Eddie couldn’t breathe for an entirely different reason; the hope from Buck’s voice floated into the hallway and carried the weight off his chest.
“The boy met his friend’s child, who reminded him of how much love he had to give. And also, how much love he wanted in return.”
Christopher really was his miracle; his beacon in the dark. He loved that kid so much. And knowing Buck felt a little of that, too; Eddie didn’t dare look up, lest his watering eyes see the light of day (or the evening stars, as it were).
“But Buck, I hear you say,”
The chuckle caught in his throat as he imagined the goofy face that matched the mocking tone.
“the boy already has lots of people who love him; what is he missing?”
Buck’s voice returned to its normal, soothing tone, staying put for too long. He was settling Amelia in her crib now; the story would be over soon. Eddie listened on.
“But you see, there’s different types of love. There’s Family Love (like the love I have for you, and your mommy and daddy), there’s Work Love (the happiness I get from helping people), there’s Friend Love (the way I love your Aunt Hen and Aunt Karen), there’s Temporary Love (like the love the boy had for the woman – short but sweet), there’s Self Love (like how you are going to grow up to conquer the world), and then there’s Forever Love.”
Eddie knew (tried desperately to convince himself), that Buck had left quite a few names off that list. He hadn’t mentioned Bobby or Athena, for one. Or Christopher. The fact that Eddie hadn’t been lumped into the ‘Family’ or ‘Friend’ category – or even the ‘Temporary’ category – didn’t mean that he was part of the final group. His traitorous heart continued to beat with its newfound hope.
“Forever Love is like feeling all of the Loves at once – plus more. Forever Love leaves you breathless, and crazy; it makes you sick with worry.”
Eddie’s mind flew back to two years ago, when he’d watched Buck get crushed by a ladder truck, and then vomit up blood a few months later. He hadn’t slept either night.
“You never stop thinking about them, even when they’re far away.”
The times before Buck was back from medical leave, all he wanted to do was text him after every crazy call, or go over to his house to talk about their day.
How long have I felt this way about him?
“And when they’re right beside you, all you want to do is hold them close.”
Every hug, every celebratory pat on the back, every shoulder or knee bump, came into sharp focus in the darkness of his mind.
“Even when you hate each other, you love them, because they make you happy.”
He could never hate Buck – he could be furious with him, but he could never hate him because.
“They make you feel like you’re not alone.”
Swirling thoughts and a breathless, aching chest: those were signs of a panic attack, right?
“One day, the boy looked up at his friend and realized that what he felt for that boy, was a forever kind of love.”
I can’t hear this. I can’t be here right now.
Eddie rolled to his knees, bracing his hand on the wall to help steady his shaking legs. Babysitting was a mistake. It felt too domestic – too close to the thing he desired most but never thought he could have.
But I can have it.
Everything Buck had said; he’d said it about Eddie. Everything he wanted was on the other side of the door, asking him to step through.
A Forever Love.
“And you’re going to find it, too.”
Buck’s soft tone signaled sleep; an ending to the façade that he was alone.
“Whether it’s another person, a job, yourself, or something entirely different: you are going to find something that makes you incredibly happy. And I can’t wait to see it.”
His whispered exultation barely reached Eddie’s ears, but his place standing beside the doorway offered other advantages now. For one, he got to watch as Buck pressed one last kiss into Amelia’s dark hair, whispering “Goodnight, Angel” before turning around.
When Buck and Eddie locked eyes, the world stopped turning.
For one, long moment, those shining blue eyes were only for Eddie, a million emotions crossing his face. Something like shock, realization, embarrassment, doubt, hope, determination, and calm swept through in that moment before the world continued its trajectory. With that same calm, Buck walked forward, pulling the door half-closed, as he finally came a breath away from Eddie’s face. He should have moved – he should have stepped back and gave him space in the hallway – but his feet refused to budge. He was trapped in this spot until he knew what came next.
“Did you like my story?”
It was one thing when Buck’s hushed tone was directed at the baby in his arms, but when he was staring at Eddie through his eyelashes, a curl to his lips like he was fighting a smile, Eddie would have agreed to anything.
Luckily, this one was easy (as easy as hearing his best friend – the best friend he was in love with – confess that he shared that love and now, they had to decide what to do next).
“You didn’t finish.”
A bit of the hope faded from Buck’s eyes, replaced with more doubt. Eddie followed his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “I don’t know the ending.”
What a sneak. What a horrible, terrible, wonderful sneak; to pass the torch he’d been carrying, to Eddie, for him to do with as he wanted. He’d be terribly put out, if he wasn’t reaching a hand up to cup Buck’s neck, pulling him to the spot where his feet had taken root.
Chest to chest, Eddie looked into his friend’s eyes – his partner’s eyes – and watched the hope come flooding back as he stopped fighting the smile. Their lips met in the middle, soft and full of promises that they both intended to keep. No frantic arms, no moans or sighs – there would be time for that later.
This was just the first chapter for them, a million pages to come – an epic journey already half-lived. As they continued their languid kiss, Eddie’s mind leapt forward to a time when they were alone in the house, hair grey and limbs bent with time; the same smile was still there. His heart beat just as fast.
In the silence of the house, Eddie whispered into breath between them:
“And they lived Happily Ever After.”
#cj writes things#cj answers things#love alicia#gracieli#buddie#buddie fic#911 fox#911 fic#getting together#storytelling#bedtime stories#evan buckley#eddie diaz#love confession#soft eddie diaz#soft evan buckley#buck with a baby
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