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#this scene has been plaguing my brain for the past three days
arvandus · 10 months
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Gojo had never intended to make you cry.  Sure, he teased you.  Maybe a little bit too much.  But he never wanted to actually hurt you.  He was a cocky ass, but he wasn’t an asshole.
That’s what he wanted to tell himself anyway, even as your wide eyes brimmed with tears that clung to your lashes.  It felt like a punch to the gut when the first tear fell.
Without even thinking, his hand came up to gently cup your cheek.  “Don’t...” he whispered.  His thumb swiped away at the wet track.  “Don’t cry.”
But it was too late; more tears fell, leaving wet lines in their wake, the droplets clinging to your chin. He hated the sight of them; hated the way they documented his failure, a sentence of guilt written in watercolor against skin he’d admired with every sideways glance.
He wanted to make them disappear, to extinguish them and replace them with warmth.  To take your trembling lips and make them smile again.  Gojo cradled your face in both of his hands, his large, calloused thumbs wiping away at your tears.  You closed your eyes, caught up in the way your heart twisted in your chest at the warmth of his touch.
You felt his forehead touch yours, his soft hair cushioned between you.  “I’m sorry...” he whispered. “I didn’t mean...”
Gojo’s words died on his lips as he felt more fresh, hot tears catch on his thumbs, heard you sniffle and try to hide the soft sob that wanted to unfurl from within your chest. 
His air left his lungs, a slow panic building at the possibility that maybe, this time, a sorry wouldn’t be enough. That maybe, this time, there was no such thing as forgiveness, and that he’d never again get to see you smile at him.
“I’m sorry...” he repeated, as his lips pressed gently against your forehead.  You froze beneath his affection, stunned.
He didn’t stop there.  His lips traveled lower, brushing against your wet lashes, against your cheeks, each time echoing his apology in earnest supplication.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Finally, he came to your still-trembling lips, the soft flesh wet where you’d licked with your tongue, although whether it was in anticipation of his lips or to taste your own tears, he wasn’t sure.  Gojo hesitated, for just the slightest fraction of a moment, waiting...
And then you gave it to him, the sign he was looking for. The ever so subtle tilt of your chin, the flutter of lashes as you peaked at him through the dew drops in hope.
His lips met yours, soft and gentle, your face still gently cupped in his hands. You finally responded, returning the kiss with your hands wrapping around his neck, your fingers curling into his hair at the nape of his neck.
Gojo pulled away just enough to be able to speak, his lips barely brushing yours.  Your eyes were open now, staring into his, and for a moment the universe consisted of just the two of you, two celestial bodies drawn together by the gravity of your hearts.
“Does this mean I’m forgiven...?” he whispered.
“No.” you replied with a grin.
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mysicklove · 7 months
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𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄
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DAY 10: SOMINOPHILIA
With: Levi Ackerman
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: gn! reader, sub! levi, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love
A/N: sorry this is late!!!! i hope this also isnt too confusing considering it switches back and forth between his dream and irl. idk. also title is named after a song by The Mamas and The Papas that i LOVEEEE
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Levi Ackerman finds himself plagued with nightmares. It was always like that though, since he could remember at least. Three to four nights a week he awakes in the middle of night dripping with sweat with his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He has grown used to the lack of sleep by now, it barely bugs him anymore.
That is, until he found someone to share his bed with. 
You were his light, as dramatic and sappy as it sounds, and something he will never admit out loud. But it was true, finally in this dim world he finds himself in, you came crashing in, brighter than the sun. He had fallen for you in record time, and you, drawn to his stoic and feisty aura, came tumbling down after him.
It's been a year now since you've gotten together, and Levi swears the nightmares are getting less frequent. 
Well, at least in the nights where you lay beside him. The nights where you hold him, and he has easier access to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling. Alive.
He doesn't go into too much depth about the nightmares, but you know the general scene of them, usually relating back to his comrades deaths. He has mentioned that the recent ones involve you, and it makes your heart crumble for your beloved each time his voice cracks through the explanation. You don’t press too much on the matter – the nights he wakes up in a cold sweat, you are there to ease him back to sleep, reassuring that you and he are safe. He almost gets a full night of sleep with you around.
But alas, you aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, and neither is he. Nope, you happen to be one of the most erotic people have ever met (though, he hasn’t met many). A sick brat is what he calls you, or sometimes a disgusting pervert, if he’s feeling extra grumpy. The nicknames fly past your head, as you pepper his face with kisses. It was all in good spirit, is what you remind yourself at least. 
“Soooo, Hange recommended–”
“No.”
You pout at the man, pulling away from his chest to glare at him. “You didnt even let me finish my sentence.”
His cold face doesnt let up, even if his eyes hold a playful light to them. “I am smart enough to recognize that anything having to do with Hange is a bad idea.”
You playfully hit his chest, and the man raises his eyebrows at you. A smile pulls at your lips, and Levi cant help but stare whimsically at you. It was unfair, really. “Fine, get on with it, brat.”
“How would you feel if I woke you up with a blow job?” His reaction is immediate, first shock, and then as a couple seconds go by he seems to be much more inclined to agree, but then finally settles on an scowl.
“Why were you talking to Hange about these things?”
You cock your head to the side, tapping on your chin. “Well, I mentioned that your nightmares have started again, and they told me that oral sex helps stop them. Something neurologically with your dick and brain? I don't know.”
He stares at you for a couple of seconds, bewildered at your explanation. But, he realizes quickly what is up, and he immediately pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. “They are fucking with you, idiot. Just trying to get me laid. Hange has always been like that.”
Your face falls at the words, and Levi swears you managed to master the kicked puppy look. He grabs your hands and pulls you back onto his chest, rolling his eyes when you hum into his skin. The warmth brought him comfort, and he finds himself more at peace. “I mean…It won't help with the nightmares, but who would turn down waking up to a blowjob?” Levi mumbles into your hair, while rubbing his hands up and down your arms.
You twist to look up at him, the familiar grin back on your face. “Yeah?”
He scoffs at you, an embaressed blush coating his cheeks. “Just dont wake me up early, alright. Just gonna piss me off.”
He swears he can see you wagging a tail. “Of course, Captain!”
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Two weeks have gone by, and Levi has not woken up to your face anywhere near his dick. He has awoke to kisses along his cheeks, and neck, but that wasnt new, you were always disgustingly affectionate in your half awake state. He holds a content (half) smile for about ten seconds as he shuts the door of your room, only for it to drop when he sees Hange.
He wasnt the one to complain though, maybe you were just teasing him. You always did like to press his buttons. He wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants it. So, the dark haired man continues on, nightmares and all, through the weeks.
By the time a month came passing by, he knows that you forgot all about your stupid little promise – your stupid naive words that only worked to piss him off. He glared at you from across the halls for a whole week – never daring to actually show you real signs that he was upset. But after you accidentally caught him frowning at you from across the training grounds, he was immediately dragged back your shared rooms, and fucked lovingly, as you apolgized for everything you could think of that would piss the man off.
You didnt mention the blowjob, but Levi was content with the disheveled hair, and the hickeys and bite marks littering his body, so he forgives you. 
He forgets about the blowjob after two months. You were more horny than usual, so the two of you were at it multiple times a week. He would end up too exhausted to hold any real dreams, including his nightmares.
Levi was okay with it.
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9 am. Levi, for the first time ever, was oversleeping. Of course when you woke up at 8 am, on your day off from training, and found your lover by your side, you couldnt help but be shocked. He was usually gone by 5 am to get to training. 
But you heard him woke up multiple times in the middle of the night. The nightmares were back. His shaky hands wrapped around you, and he panted into your neck, trembling like you've never seen before. You don't know what triggered it, but Levi seemed to have a really bad night. 
He deserves to sleep in. So, at fifteen past 8, you scamper to Erwins office and beg the commander for Levi to have a day off. He always did have a soft spot for you. For one, you brought happiness to humanities strongest, and also because his friend silently threatened him death if he was to mistreat you. Erwin agreed without much hesitation. 
You crawl into bed next to your lover, and begin to trace his content face. At least the nightmares were gone for the night.
Then, the realization hits you. This was the perfect time for you to finally do as promised.
You waited months because you wanted Levi to forget about your words. Of course, you assumed he forgot them after a couple of days, paying no attention to your promise, but you waited it out just in case. 
And now, the both of you dont have any plans today. A once in a lifetime experience, it has got to be.
So with one more glance at your lover, you kiss his cheek, hold back a small giggle, and slowly remove the blanket from his lap. Then, you slide yourself down on the bed, and carefully manevuer yourself in between his legs. He doesnt sleep with much attire, growing hot in the night. Plus with the addition of the cold sweat he often finds himself in, he learns that going next to bare was easier. 
You pull down his boxers, and are immediately exposed to a dark patch of hair. It's trimmed properly, but he prefers to have a little hair down their over being completely shaven. Something on the lines of protecting his dick from germs or whatnot. You dont listen to the details, only thinking about how hot it is.
The boxers make it past his thighs, and you glance back up at the man. He doesn't even seem to flinch when the cool air comes into contact with his skin. He snoozes peacefully into the pillow, his dark hair covering his eyes. 
His dick lays limp against his leg, and you pick it up slowly, careful to not wake him up. You run your fingers over it a couple of times, and then, holding the back of it with your fingers to support it, you run your tongue from bottom to top of the length. 
Levi doesn't move. You take that as a sigh to continue. 
Another stripe of the tongue, and then two more, and nothing happens. You grow bolder by the moment. You place his still soft cock into your mouth, and this time you do hear a reaction. Its a quiet sigh, but it was something. His eyes still remain shut.
Slowly, you begin to suckle on the tip, finding it easier to fit it in your mouth while soft. Your tongue roams the shaft, and you press sloppy, wet kisses to his veins. Blood rushes to his cock unconsciously, and Levi still has not stirred, even with his cock now hard. You chuckle with amusement, but dont stop your movements, now dragging your hands along his thighs to appreciate his body.
Levi was having a good dream. It wasnt like the past couple of nightmares, no, this one seemed to have a light hue. It was just the two of you, laying with your backs against grass. A open field, far away from everyone, and not a threat in sight. Titans were gone.
A peaceful world for the two of you. A world Levi craved. 
His hands trace your face, and he stares at you, admiring every crease and divot of your skin. You slide your way over toward him, leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you.”
He hums, eyes falling shut, as he wraps his arms around your body. “Yeah, yeah. Love ya too, brat.”
You giggle at him, and suddenly the smile on your face shifts. It turns soft, the tips of your mouth curling up in an almost feline way, while you eyes become hooded. He watches you lean forward and press your lips to his. The man doesnt stop you, gently kissing you back while your tongue slips into his mouth. Levi gulps when your hands trace down to his pants, and he quickly looks around the meadow, afraid to discover an unwelcomed guest. Of course there was nobody, it was a dream, not a nightmare. Your hand slips into his pants, and Levi’s back arches in the grass.
He twitches in his sleep and you smile fondly at the man. The tip of his cock rest against your cheek, as you admire him for a second too long, only to be rewarded with jolt of his hips from the source unknown, sending it slapping across your face. You hold back a laugh, and then grab at it again, mumbling out a, “Even a brat in your sleep, huh Captain?” 
You lean forward and wrap your lips around him again.
“D-Don't stop!” Levi groans out, hands clutching at your shirt while he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't stop the sun from getting past his eyelids, so he moves closer to you to hopefully block it out. You press your lips to his neck, nibbling at the space just beneath his ears.
“Would never,” You purr, and the man glances at your hand. His pants are pulled down completely now, and your pace was rutheless in its up and down motions. It sends him shivering, and covering his face with the back of his arm. He breathes through clenched teeth, and tries his best not to let out a whimper. The man hears your giggle, and before he could stop himself, the whine slips out.
The first noise of the morning was a low whimper. Not much, but definitely there, and unbelievably cute. You grip at his hips and try to take him deeper, but his hips thrusts back into your mouth with another paired whine. Your eyes widen, and you gag out at the unexpected movement, having to pull away to catch your breath. His dark hair whips back and forth, and he continues to make low mewling noises. “Huh, and you call me the pervert. What are you dreaming about, pretty?”
Levi moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around your neck. His hips buck up into your hands, and you playfully bite his lip, earning a dramatic grunt in complaint. He grips your hair and pulls you back to his lips before you try and let out another teasing remark. Precum leaks onto your hand, and he swears that it provides more of the makeshift lube then usual. Your hand feels better than normal, strangely damp, and so warm. Did handjobs always feel this good?
He can feel his high approaching and his breaths come out quicker. “Gonna..cum. Fuck!”
You detach yourself from his lips. “No, no, no! Not yet!” You tease, voice light and almost giggly. It wasn't the first time you denied him of his release, but it was rare. You always di did pamper him. 
The man scowls at you, borderline on the cusp of baring his teeth. “Why?” He demands, short and simple, but shows exactly how peeved he is. Levi is more than surprised to feel that you didn't squeeze his cock in warning. No, still the warm, tight feeling, that does not make any sense to him.
“Can you do something for me first?”
A demand from you? Unheard of. “Get on with it, I-Im close”
Your hand movements become louder and louder, and it shouldn't sound like that. It's so lewd, and the squelching noise are never that loud. 
You press you lips to his ear, and a shiver runs down his spine at your breath, which is strangely cooler than usual. “Wake up, Captain.”
His eyes snap open immediately and he pants into the dark room. Levi hears it first, before he feels it. A loud slurping sort of noise, and the man feels his cock trapped between something warm, wet. 
A throat. Not a hand. 
He is quick to manevour himself to hold his weight on his elbows, and glances down at you, breaths coming out shallow and quick. You smile when you catch his eye, and for a second you pull away from him. You pepper his length down with kisses. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head,” You mumble, letting another swipe of your tongue graze his thick blue vein. Then, with little hesitation, you dive back onto his cock, taking it as far as you can into your mouth.
“What are you–Fuck!” His legs instinctually bend outward, and his back arches. His head was still foggy in his half sleepen state. Was that all a dream? Was this real? He grips onto your hair, and does his best not to force you deeper onto his cock.
Levi could feel his orgasm approaching and rapidly, same as the dream. But this time it was real, and by god did it feel that way. His hips buck into your mouth and he lets out loud moans, tucking his face into the pillow to try and muffle them. 
He tries to ask for permission again to cum again, hoping that this time real you wouldnt lead him on. It comes out more as a command, but you just roll your eyes with a smile, the giggle in the back of your throat sending him spiral. 
“Cumming. Oh god. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He chants, and your eyes widen in shock, but you don't pull away from his cock. He was never the one to be polite in bed, the little brat was always barking commands and half hearted complaints. He must be really enjoying this treat if he was to thank you.
You dont have time to dwell on it much, because he forces your head lower onto his cock and cums into your mouth. You wince at the taste, but bear no mind to it as you watch your lover unravel. His back still continues to arch (which you will never get over) while his eyes are shut. The noises he lets out are soft, more of a mewl and a groan, but adorable nonetheless. His whole body trembles and his legs lay out wide, shaking under the force of the orgasm.
You pull away when he is done, and wipe your lips with the back of your hand. “Taste perfect as usual. Always so good on your diet!”
He rolls his eye at you, but it doesn't hold much bite considering that the man seemed to be basking in the post orgasm glow. “You are gross. I know that shit tastes bad.”
“Nope! Anything that the Captian makes is amazing”
He throws a pillow at your face, and you pout at him, a dramatic whine slipping past your lips. “Don't call me that, I am not even your Captain anymore, brat. And stop pouting!” He demands, pulling up his boxers before letting out a big stretch.
“Why are you so mean to me?” You complain, crawling forward to lay on his chest. “After I gave you head too!”
The frown does not drop from his face, but he does trace his fingers along your face. A silent token of affection that you purr into. “Took ya long enough. Thought you forgot about it.”
You fake hurt, taking in a dramatic breath. “Of course not! I would never lie to you.” The words are light, and holds a smile in them. “And hey, dont you think you are a little spoiled? Complaining that you got a blowjob too late.”
Levi doesnt even seem to react, his facial expression remaining neutral, and his words flat. “No ‘m not. Said thank you and everything.”
To this, you do nod, practically vibrating with affection to give. It was too hard to really be upset with him. “Super polite of you! I was so impressed!”
This does make him roll his eyes. “You really think low of me, huh?”
You poke at his cheek with a smile plastered on your face. “Aww cmon dont be dramatic again. You know I dont. Oh! Also, did it help with the nightmares?” You tease, knowing exactly what type of dream he really was having. “You sounded very….Scared in your dream.”
He seems to flush red, but alas, Levi was never the one to be on the losing foot. “....Yes. Seems like you are going to have to do this for me everyday. To stop the nightmares.”
You burst out laughing, and fail to see the small grin that creeps up the dark haired man's face.
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alexanderlightweight · 5 months
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Hey lumine! I hope all is well and that you're getting over the post-plague funk- I know being sick is the absolute worst.
If you happen to be taking prompts today (and totally cool if not!) I would love to see if you're interested in tangling with a continuation of either the bitter trap of truth or the craft of adoration.
For the first one, I ADORE the way Cat and Ragnor in your last piece were observing Alec so casually giving priceless nephilim intelligence to them while so clearly displaying his trust in Magnus alskjfda;lsdfjasdfadsf. so good and happy and all my favorite things with Alec happily surrendering to Magnus and being his BAMF-y self while doing so and even the utter delight of outside POV!
For the second, if that AU floats your fancy higher, my brain is just utterly stuck on that line where Magnus asks Alec to come to him at dawn because he wants his people to see Alec coming to his call, coming to heel if you will. I would be drowning in glee (to continue the watery metaphors) to see how your wonderful imagination would envision that scene occurring and what Magnus (and Magnus' people!) would think of Alec acquiescing to Magnus' request.
Hope you feel better!
the prompts themselves are compliments and incredible sweet s thank you Laws!
I realize it was a different day that this was sent but I dont remember which day and tbh, today is a good day! Mostly over the cold and my leg is finally aching less enough to think.
no outsider pov in this one, but a bit more of cat and ragnor and the magnificent team immortal because i love them and they need to be more heavily involved in this fic for a variety of reasons.
need to take @saryn-prime to a health appointment and then i'll be back to settle in and write more.
i ened up really feeling the bitter trap of truth today and its been on my mind for days and my fingers have been aching to write it. hope you enjoy and are doing well!
<3 lumine
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It’s past noon when Magnus’ wards flare and he leaves Alexander where he is, splayed out across the bed and face burrowed into a pillow. It’s been enough time that Catarina and Ragnor’s visit can only mean one thing.
Magnus will finally have his answer.
If he was wise to trust Alexander or if his boy has so easily betrayed him.
Alexander won’t face punishment from the warlocks.
Even if he’s played them, it’s one of his own people who have died and Magnus already knows that the Clave won’t punish him for it. If anything, they’ll reward him for ensuring that
But Magnus’ heart will still ache at being tricked.
Neither of his dear companions are in his apothecary, instead they are practically relaxed. Well, as relaxed as they can be when exhaustion haunts their visage. Catarina is splayed out on the sofa and Ragnor has nearly melted into his favorite armchair, pipe puffing peacefully away as Catarina summons three drinks.
“A toast!” She offers and her soft smile nearly breaks Magnus.
She wouldn’t be smiling or toasting if she brought ill news.
“It worked?” He asks, even thought he knows it has to have. But years of agonizing betrayal make him ask, he has to know.
“It’s as if she were never ill.” Catarina confirms and her eyes gleam with mocking humor. “I’ve never seen someone so mortified and furious to be saved.”
“It should also be noted that she’s of a much lower rank than your shadowhunter.” Ragnor gives a quiet sigh and blows out a ring of smoke. “I rather doubt she even knew what the poison would do beyond killing her and striking a blow to the downworld. She seemed utterly shocked that we managed to find an antidote.”
“Did you tell them how we managed?”
“And risk them finding even more obscure poisons?” Cat laughs and shakes her head. “No, let them think I somehow found an antidote. If they knew the treasure trove of willing information your boy is, well…”
She trails off with an apologetic shrug and Magnus just nods. Cat’s not wrong. If anything, she’s being generous with how delicate she’s being. It also means that Magnus is going to have to be very careful with who he shares information about Alec with.
The Council would no doubt want to interrogate him for all the answers he would be able to give, but Magnus would rather play the long game. Alexander is unique, in more ways than one and while he doubts that his hunter would dare lie before the Elders, he also doesn’t want more attention drawn to him.
Not before Magnus is completely sure.
Magnus’ heart has been wounded too many times for this one action to convince him, but it has done what he hoped.
Catarina and Ragnor are both now willing to give Alexander a chance, a real chance and that is worth more to Magnus than anything else.
— Alec is beginning to think that he’s never going to wake up with Magnus wrapped around him, or wrapped around Magnus. Every time he thinks he’s going to be able to enjoy sunlight and warm, bare skin and golden eyes, something comes up.
Alec is almost ready to just haul Magnus back to bed, but he doesn’t think they’re quite there yet.
It’s with careful consideration that he bites his lip hard enough to bleed. Instantly, the nearly scalding feeling of Magnus’ blood working through his veins lights up. He enjoy it for a few seconds as it heals the damage and then its gone… and no Magnus appears after it.
Alec follows the tug of his bond with Magnus, teeth playing with his lip — which burns in admonishment — and finds himself holding back a soft chuckle. Magnus’ friend Ragnor — someone who Alec knows is a highly revered potion master — is asleep in an armchair. He’s blowing smoke rings as he snores and Magnus and Catarina — who Alec knows is an incredibly talented and powerful healer — are splayed out together on the couch.
Magnus appears to be trying to give her a foot massage, but she’s asleep and his eyes are slipping shut, head nodding forward.
Alec huffs another silent breath of laughter and — with all the skill that he was once taught in order to be a better killer — collects several of Magnus’ extravagant throws.
Because Alec is nothing if not petty, he very carefully lays the cabbage green monstrosity of a tartan throw on Ragnor. Careful not to get close enough that the warlock wakes and thinks it an attack and then settles the large umber blanket over Catarina and Magnus both.
While he’s careful not to touch either of Magnus’ friends, he can’t help but settle a pillow under Magnus head and smooths the hair falling into his eyes away.
It’s a gentle, whisper of a kiss that he presses to Magnus’ hair and then he grabs the book he’d left on the table the night before.
As he settles on the floor next to Magnus, resting his head on Magnus’ leg and being careful to stay out of range of Catarina — he doesn’t know her after all — a glimpse of movement catches his attention.
Ragnor’s eyes meet his and Alec just nods, simple and acknowledging and then he opens the book he grabbed and settles in. If Magnus didn’t want him around his friends when they’re vulnerable then the magic of the loft wouldn’t have let him in.
The blankets probably aren’t necessary, but Alec is Magnus’ husband now. And while Alec is still figuring out his new position in life he does know how to take care of people. Mostly his soldiers and his siblings but still, if he softens his touch a bit, he’s sure he’ll manage just find at taking care of Magnus and his friends.
If this — being allowed in the same room as three vulnerable warlocks — is another sign that Magnus is trusting him, well then Alec is going to take full advantage of it.
While also not giving Magnus any reason to doubt him.
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how-masterful · 2 years
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31 FICS OF FRIGHT
Day 5- The Rest for the Wicked
Simm!Master x Reader
Prompt: Nightmare
Notes: Ok, I really like this one. As @plethora-of-imagines​ knows, Simm is such a strange one to write for after endless fics of Dhawan. I’m also realising this is two fics in three days that mention Macbeth. I’m not a Shakespeare stan, I just like to put my years of studying the damn play to good use! Also also, a reminder the order of these fics has been randomly generated, along with what topics each one follows. I promise Missy is on her way for some fun!
Warnings: Mentions of violence
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The Master never truly slept. An hour here, perhaps two there, maybe once a week, maybe not at all. 
The Master didn’t need sleep, he’d vehemently argue that fact to anybody who dared to challenge him. He didn't need the vulnerability of not being aware of his surroundings. The dangers of sleep were endless- ambush, threat, missing out. He would pile excuses upon excuses when it came to why he barely slept a wink, expecting you to accept every single one of them. 
Chalk them up to Timelord antics. Not question a thing.
But the real reason wasn’t that the Master didn’t require it. In fact, he would most likely benefit from it. The real reason was he could never sleep soundly.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, he’d had many attempts at hunkering down in a warm bed, pulling up the covers and letting his head sink into the fluff of the pillow. Or the alternative, crashing on the library sofa, still wearing his clothes, pushing the pillow over his ear and scrunching his eyes tightly shut.
It wasn’t the drums that kept him awake, or even the constant danger. The Master would never admit the truth.
Every single time he tried to sleep, he would have a nightmare.
He struggled to categorize them, the violent pictures spiraling within his mind, the stench of smoke within his nostrils. Could they be called night terrors? Ephialtes? Chimera? Fantasies laced with wicked truths? He never could tell. The nuances, the differences, the Master didn’t care. He knew what it was like to fear the night, the agony that came from the tortured, restless hours of the dark. He could decipher the scenes in his mind, his past bleeding together into an entangled web of fire. Suffering, pain, fear, delight.
 His childhood, the insanity drilled within his brain by the raw power of the time vortex. Madness had coursed through his veins since the tender age of 8, plaguing his thoughts and dreams with the endless possibility of time. His dreams burned with the pain of a thousand galaxies, all the lives he’d taken, their screams suffocating his echoes of renegade pleasure.
How ironic, he’d think, dry heaving over the edge of the bed and pulling himself to sit up. All the death that made him so happy had finally caught up with him.
After his resurrection at the hands of the Timelords, he’d tried again. A world on fire behind his eyelids, blazing in fear, the metallic scream of the Dalek leader obliterating an entire battalion. The fall of Arcadia, the Nightmare Child, the filthy dregs of the time war he’d been so graciously brought back to help fight, yet had run from with reckless abandon.
 The Master had wretched himself from the bed, fist crashing into the mirror on the wall, shattering into a thousand shards and lacerating his fist. He had inspired fear in many, drowning his own name in violent reputation, but now he knew its cold touch. Like Macbeth, the Master cried he hath murder sleep, and declared himself free of its shackles.
That night, you had hesitantly walked into the bedroom. A blanket slung around your shoulders, soft fleece printed with cartoon bats in costumes, a dancing skeleton on your pajama shirt. Tears had pricked your eyes, your bottom lip nibbled red and wobbling. You’d crept into the room, the low light almost hiding the Master within the velvet black, shown only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He’d sat himself upon the bed, covers pushed to the bottom of the bed, rumpled but unused, the man himself peering into a quantum physics novel. This regeneration was younger, hungrier, desperate to devour anything he could get his hands on. That extended to novels, as tedious as the process of actually reading things seemed to him now. 
You’d sniffled, and he’d looked up, placing the book to his side. Something unspoken sat between you, the Master unwilling to make the first move to initiate comfort. You needed to guide him in, tell him what you needed. Show him how to help, as strange a concept as it felt for him.
“Nightmare” You’d whispered. Simple. Pained. Understood.
The Master had opened his arms, the gap widening as he’d sunk into the motion. You’d found your way into his arms, blanket pulled along in tow, as his hand had come to rest upon your shoulders in an embrace. 
The hold of a liar came easy to him, all smiles and bared teeth as he embraced his enemies in a Judas touch, a snake ready to crush the life out of whatever poor mouse had believed themselves immune to his villainy.
The Master held you like glass, unsure of you, unsure of himself. The parts of his hearts that had calcified weakened with every tender grin, every chaste kiss, every sincere declaration of your love. It was perhaps the things dreams were made of. If only the Master was able to observe.
He’d adjusted the hold, laying your cheek against his beating hearts. Two fingers had reached towards your temple, sinking their psychic touch deep into your mind's eye. He’d sifted through memories and thoughts, searching for the offending article. Ah, a horror movie: A knife slinging slasher at your door, a demon at the foot of your bed, the chase down corridors that wouldn't end. Tripping on air. Phone lines cut. The final girl. The one that didn’t quite make it to the sequel, despite the credits starting to roll.
Oh so human, he’d thought, fingers pushing back a stray hair that had fallen onto your face. You’d sought the comfort of his touch, as frozen over as it had become. He whispered sweet nothings through his touch, the connection of skin spilling every single secret he couldn’t say that night. Heaviness had found your eyes, a voice encouraging you down to the peaceful dark. The Master could make you fall asleep, steal the pain away with a touch, let you rest easily. Maybe if you slept soundly, he’d feel the same. He’d felt a smile push itself upon his face as he’d pulled the covers over, allowing the duvet to pull him under, pressing a ghostlike kiss to the spot his fingers had touched. 
The Master hadn’t fallen asleep that night, opting to simply watch the soft cadence of your breath, gaze uncomfortably tender. A part of him that bore no wounds from his past hoped you’d dream, do something he couldn't.
Human hands had pulled the timelord towards them. The Master hadn’t pulled away.
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offlinehorse · 2 years
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Lil uzi vert album 1920x1080
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Rage 2’s production is almost uniformly excellent, poppy and full of air, but with sinister undercurrents when Uzi summons something darker. “444+222,” never finds its footing or has much to say, but at least keeps the listener on his or her toes long enough for Ike Beatz and Maaly Raw’s beat to make its imprint.
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The perpetual churn of style and song structure can be a strength, or at the very least helps cover up songwriting that can tend toward formlessness. He’s chaotically animated, flitting between short staccato runs and heartfelt singing, punctuated by yelps and bug-eyed ad-libs. The plunges into Uzi’s psyche are mirrored by his delivery. “Pretty Mami” is a desperate missive from a tour bus the excellent song about his mother, “Dark Queen,” sounds less like an ode to a parent than a supernatural reckoning. Over and over again, Uzi careens past the edge of convention or good social form. Uzi opens with a brief introduction to the other half of his failed relationship, punctuated with, “I like that girl too much, I wish I never met her.” From there, he launches into a full interpolation of the first verse from Oh Wonder’s “Landslide”: “I know it hurts sometimes, but you’ll get over it/You’ll find another life to live.” Uzi’s less interested in the granular drama of the breakup than in the fallout, the moment three or four days later when reality starts to set in. Take “The Way Life Goes,” which is produced by Don Cannon and Ike Beatz. It’s the Philadelphia native’s most musically developed work and features a bulk of his most interesting songs to date. At its best, the album mines the psyches of exhausted and exhausting people, searching for the moment where enough drugs or heartbreak or iMessages or sleep deprivation can unlock a new part of the brain. Lofty as that is, Luv Is Rage 2 comes very close to delivering. The goal isn’t a streaming figure or a chart position, but a feeling. And yet in some small way, Uzi’s long-awaited Luv Is Rage 2 is a referendum on whether he can live up to the standard “XO Tour Llif3” set. He’s proven himself a popular force with solo cuts like “Money Longer” and guest turns on Migos’ “Bad and Boujee” and Playboi Carti’s “ Woke Up Like This” dozens, hundreds of imitators across digital mixtape platforms cite him as a major creative influence, or at least a welcome distillation of whatever’s happening in and around the Atlanta scene. But Uzi has been an ascendant star for at least a year and a half: from promising rookie to SoundCloud darling to rap’s A-list and beyond. Which is fine, because artists have been plagued by hits with just a fraction of the pathos “XO Tour Llif3” has. It will probably define Lil Uzi Vert for the rest of his career. 7 on Billboard, Platinum three times over-don’t come close to capturing the depth with which people feel the song.
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The “I don’t really care if you cry” taunt that shouldn’t be believed melting into “All my friends are dead/Push me to the edge” is a stretch of masterful songwriting, but withering in a way that few artists could mimic without tipping into self-parody. Hd wallpapers and background images.“ XO Tour Llif3” is the sort of song artists spend years trying to write: pained and poised, tapping into a vein that had previously been found but never fully pierced. Lil uzi vert art is part of music collection and its available for desktop pc laptop mac book apple iphone ipad android mobiles tablets. Tons of awesome lil uzi vert wallpapers to download for free. Download wallpaper 1920x1080 lil uzi vert music singer male celebrities boys hd 4k 5k images backgrounds photos and pictures for desktop pc android iphones.ġ920x1080 lil uzi vert wallpapers for laptop full hd 1080p devices. Lil uzi vert art wallpaper for freeload in different resolution hd widescreen 4k 5k 8k ultra hd wallpaper support different devices like desktop pc or laptop mobile and tablet. You can also upload and share your favorite lil uzi vert wallpapers. Pin On Hip Hop Album Covers 47 You can also upload and share your favorite lil uzi vert 2019 wallpapers. Download wallpaper 1920x1080 lil uzi vert music singer male celebrities boys hd 4k 5k images backgrounds photos and pictures for desktop pc android iphones. Tons of awesome lil uzi vert 2019 wallpapers to download for free.
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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years
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ah and I was looking for something like Charles Linda of lost control over his powers and Erik is the only one that can help him
Hi anon. I have got a good list of fics where Charles loses control over his powers and gets help from Erik. I hope you find some fics you enjoy.
Anchor Me – brilliantdreams
Summary: Charles is awake in the kitchen having telepathy troubles when Erik finds him. Cuddling ensues.
Cotton Walls – walrusface
Summary: In large crowds, Charles finds it difficult to control his telepathy. While they're on their recruitment road trip, Erik tries to help.
Aches and Pains – i_know_its_over
Summary: Constantly using his powers gives Charles a debilitating headache.
Idiot Control Now – cygnaut
Summary: Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it.
With Your Kindness – helens78
Summary: Cerebro takes a lot out of Charles; a warm bath complete with washing his hair feels like the least Erik can do, but if it's all he can offer, he will.
Know That It’s True – luninosity
Summary: Using Cerebro gives Charles headaches. Erik is not happy to discover this fact.
Catch me when I fall – isabeau
Summary: Charles overdoes it on Cerebro, and doesn't learn his lesson, but Erik is there for him.
You want blood, and I promised – hllfire
Summary: When Erik kills Shaw with that coin, Charles doesn't come out of it unharmed.
Say Your Fault – seperis
Summary: Charles hasn't spoken in twenty-two days.
Honest Bone and Burning Thought – Black_Betty
Summary: And so sometimes, his mind buzzing away, bright and brilliant and humming with pure expansive energy, Charles speaks without thinking at all. Without censoring himself. Without realizing that his brain has reached out and snatched something that was never his to know, or take…
Don’t Let The Bedbugs Bite – Pillow_Bee
Summary: Charles goes around the mansion that first night he brought the mutants there to tuck them to sleep while trying his best to hold back a bitter childhood memory. Erik has his book confiscated for refusing to go to bed, and he is not happy about it.
Let your anger anchor you (your peace will bring me home) – anthora09
Summary: Charles takes an unnecessary risk and winds up in the infirmary.
Erik is not happy. (His exact words are "I told you so.")
Count to Three – Harleydoll 
Summary: Charles is psychologically damaged after experiencing Shaw's death in his own mind.
I can’t leave him – sasha_b
Summary: The plane ride back from Russia.
In the Sky Tonight – luninosity
Summary: Part five of the holiday fic involves Easter, which obviously meant obligatory sex-pollen-trope fic. Recruitment road-trips, mutants with interesting abilities, sex with complicated emotions, protective Erik, boys figuring out that they’re in love.
Veiled Truths – ikeracity
Summary: Erik has dreams of a dark room, of being pushed down into the floor and violated in a way that makes him scream until his throat is raw. But Shaw never, ever touched him like that, so Erik wonders if he somehow repressed memories of Shaw's torture. Either way, he hides the dreams from Charles, intent on suffering through it alone, as he always has.
And then one day, the nightmares come when he's still awake, and he realizes that these aren't his nightmares, they're Charles's. It's Charles projecting in his sleep, and then Erik realizes that they aren't nightmares at all, they're memories from Charles's hidden past.
The Keeper on the Other Side – RyuuzaKochou
Summary: Charles Xavier's long lost step brother is back in town and it...doesn't go well. Charles and Erik find out they are still bonded and still friends from the hospital bed aftermath.
Northern Lights – garrideb
Summary: Erik experiences a frightening new aspect of Charles's telepathy while rescuing him from captivity. But while it might frighten Erik, that doesn't mean he'll run away from Charles.
Five Days – cerebel
Summary: Charles is captured. And then he is rescued.
Come Home to Me – ami_ven
Summary: “Focus on my voice, Charles, on my mind.”
Room and Board – smilebackwards
Summary: "How long had you been banging your head against the wall before I arrived?" Erik asks curiously after the resident nurse has lain Charles down on a cot and given him two ibuprofen to swallow and an icepack to hold against his head. Boarding school AU.
Enervate – tokidokifish
Summary:  Charles had an abusive childhood (like in the comics, but worse) and when he finally got away, he repressed everything behind mental walls, to the point he doesn't really remember anything about it. After the events of the movie, his mental state deteriorates, and those walls come down.
In These Shadowed Halls – InkDippedFingertips
Summary: For Charles, the mansion was plagued with nightmares.
Waves Can Sink and Carry – Somnambulist
Summary: After a solo recruiting mission goes horribly wrong, a drugged and disoriented (and VERY cold) Charles shows up on the Xavier mansion doorstep. Erik patches him up as best as he can.
Third time’s the charm – Gerec
Summary: XMA ficlets and missing scenes
I’ll be your haven – inoue6
Summary: After Apocalypse used Charles to deliver his message to the world his powers grew beyond control. When Battle of Cairo was over, Erik helps Charles to cope with his telepathy let loose.
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mourntheantagonist · 3 years
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Smut prompt!!! ( from your recent post!)
Billy has a thing for being held down. He’s been pushing steve around the school all day, trying to get a rise out of him and it WORKS- It starts out hostilely but turns into something much steamier ending in the blonde being fucked.
ABSOLUTELY!! ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!!
cw: rough sex
***
“From here on out you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”
He said yes. He said he understood. But did he really?
What Billy understood of Max’s demands, was really just what she meant. She meant for him to keep his fists to himself, not to hurt any one of them, including Steve, and that, he understood that. But what Billy needed was for Steve to hit him. He needed for him to fucking fight back, throw another punch his way to level out the playing field. He needed for Steve to break his nose, split his lip, just do fucking something other than hang his head low and continue to avoid him like the goddamn plague.
So Billy didn’t leave him alone like Max had demanded. He teased, he pushed his buttons, he fouled him during basketball practice and shut off his shower head, he hid his gym clothes and stole his towel off the rack. Anything to just get a rise out of him.
But Steve just takes it. He never does anything more than roll his eyes and say “Hargrove” like it’s a slur. But Billy can also see how he’s beginning to wear Steve down, little by little, getting closer and closer to fucking exploding.
Until he does. After an entire scrimmage game where Billy fouled Steve enough times that he was ejected, followed up by an already pissed off Steve having his towel ripped from the rack for probably the fifteenth time that month. Steve had had enough, and promptly pushed Billy up against the shower walls with more force than he would have anticipated. Steve took him by the wrists and shoved a knee into the back of his thigh until Billy was fully pinned to the wall and completely immobilized.
“Cut that shit out Hargrove.” Steve said, in a low and husky voice directly into his ear, the heat of his breath making the inside of Billy’s head buzz. The bones in Steve palms dug deep into Billy’s wrists, and when he let go, Billy nearly fell to the floor. His legs felt like jelly and he refused to turn around from where he was facing the wall as everyone crowded around and laughed, congratulating a Steve who pushed past everyone after retrieving his stolen towel. Meanwhile, Billy’s still not turning around until all of the other guys have scattered away.
Because he’s fucking hard.
He could still feel Steve’s hands on his wrists on the drive back home, red all around the circumference. He could still smell him, all up in his space pressing his entire weight into the wall leaving him completely motionless. He needed more. He needed that again.
So he kept pushing. He kept pushing despite Steve’s warnings, because to Billy, it was a fucking promise.
Except this time around it was different, because he tried to do it when no one else was around. He fucked with the shower head just enough so that it was just the two of them left to occupy the boys locker room after hours. Naked, dripping wet, horny…
And Steve, absolutely fired up.
“Don’t think I won’t do it again asshole.” Steve said as he dried himself off with a towel, still undressed, and Billy didn't know where he got the nerve to steal a look so obviously at the brunette as he toweled off his hips, biting his lower lip. That was just the first step in a series of bold, and honestly, stupid moves out of Billy, because next thing he knew he had one hand latched on to Steve’s towel.
“Don’t think I don’t want you to.”
You could hear a pin drop to the floor with just how silent the room got. Steve just stared at Billy who still had his hand firmly gripping the corner of the towel, waiting for Steve to give, to let up on his own grip just enough for Billy to yank it from his possession and drop it to the floor.
Steve was still, unmoving, and the awkward silence was deafening, so after already sealing his fate, he said what he wanted, made it clear.
“Pin me. Take whatever you want from me.” Billy said, tugging on the towel a little harder, but Steve’s grip that hadn’t given.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve’s eyes were narrowing in on him, like maybe, just maybe, Billy struck a bit of a nerve.
Billy tugged on the towel again. “Pin me up against those lockers.”
Steve tugged back.
“Yeah? Then what?” Steve asked.
Billy tugged again. “Punch me...” Steve tugged back, but Billy tugged again, harder. “Fuck me…”
Steve let go, and the towel fell to the floor in slow motion, all dramatic like it was straight out of a movie scene. Billy moved to close the distance between them a little more, chests nearly touching and each other’s breaths able to be felt on their faces. “Whatever you want.”
Not a second passed before Billy found his cheek smashed up against the door of his locker and Steve’s entire naked body up against his back. They were pressed so close together that he could feel Steve’s heart as it beat through his chest, along with his shaky breathing, right in his ear. Steve’s hands were back at his wrists in the same exact spot they were the last time, pressing them firmly into the locker, almost hard enough it might leave a small dent in the metal.
Steve was clearly hesitant, his hands still firmly placed where they were, and his breathing only growing more uneven. Billy might have thought Steve might choose the “punch me” option if it weren’t for the fact that his dick was right up against his ass, clearly just as excited as he was. Steve was still nervous, and all that meant was that he just needed a little bit more encouraging taunting.
“Go ahead pretty boy, fuck me like you hate me.”
That was enough for Steve’s hands to finally move, to trail down the length of his arms and down his back with the same bruising force the whole way down, like a deep tissue massage that he’d surely still feel later on.
Steve’s hands trailed all the way down to his ass where he squeezed hard, let out a heavy breath, and paused right there, cupping his cheeks and spreading them apart.
“Fuck,” Steve swears, “what the fuck are we doing?!” Steve slams his fist against the lockers hard, the sound of metal echoing off the tile walls and the vibrations buzzing in Billy’s head.
Billy laughed. “My duffel. Condom, lube, it’s all in there…”
Steve gives Billy a good push into the lockers before walking over to the duffel on the floor and pulling the two aforementioned items out of the bag’s side pocket. He held up the golden foil and small bottle of aloe vera and just stared at them.
“Did you come prepared for this?” Steve asked, it was an accusation.
“This was the plan all along pretty boy, let’s just say I was hopeful.” Billy said as he shifted his feet on the floor so his legs were spread further. “Now quit fucking stalling!”
Steve made his way back over and without warning, introduced an aloe coated finger to his hole that slipped right in, but Billy still gasped.
“Hurry up Harrington! I’m already stretched and ready, fuck me with your dick!” Billy snarled, and threw his hips backwards into Steve.
Steve skipped over a second finger and went straight up to three, while with the help of his free hand and his teeth, he opened up the condom and slipped it over his cock.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked, but it was quickly followed by another slam on the locker doors, this time from Billy.
“Quit treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!” Billy shouted, “Hold me down and take what you fucking want!”
Almost instantly, Billy was pushed right back into the wall of lockers and Steve’s fingers had abruptly left their place from inside of him, leaving him with an empty feeling that was quickly relieved by the feeling of something much larger right at his entrance.
Steve’s hands were on him, but they were hardly applying any force, Billy could easily slip through it and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted from him.
“Hold me down while you fuck me!”
Steve responded to that by finally thrusting inside of him and pushing his hands even deeper into his shoulder blades. Billy let out a short moan upon impact, but still wriggled his body unsatisfied.
“Harder!”
Steve didn’t know which part he was talking about, so he responded to both, thrusting in even harder and deeper and pushing his hands down even more.
“More!” Billy demanded, with a maniacal laugh that enraged Steve, and he grew more and more pissed off as Billy continued to squirm around trying to get out of his grip.
“Stop fucking moving!”
“Make me!” Billy yelled. “Fucking make me!”
Steve doesn’t know whether it was the anger, or Billy’s own demands that caused him to bring his hand up to the side of Billy’s head and shove him right into the wall of lockers so that his cheek was firmly smashed against them. Billy’s brain rattled inside of his skull as the force of his head made contact with the metal. He could taste blood on the inside of his mouth where his teeth must have cut, and he didn’t mind, because that’s exactly what he wanted.
“Perfect.” He said, settling any nerves Steve might have had thinking he fucked up with that move. “Now fuck me already.”
Steve didn’t remove his hand from where it was pushing into the side of Billy’s head, all tangled up in with his still wet hair, and his other hand was gripping his bicep, leaving finger shaped bruises as he pushed him hard against the lockers.
Billy was completely immobile as Steve thrusted into him, and his moans and groans were entirely uncensored and bounced off the walls in a chorus coupled with Steve’s own, that were more slicked and held back than his. Steve’s entire body weight was leaning into him and his face found a place to rest just above his shoulder, behind his head where he couldn’t see him, but only feel the heat of his breath against the back of his neck. With just that alone, Billy could feel his own dick twitch and begin to leak with pre and drip to the tile floor that was already infested with athletes foot.
Steve’s breath grew heavier, loud and hot against Billy’s skin, and what Steve did to stop his own panting was to secure his lips around the sensitive skin of Billy’s neck, and Billy gasped, and nearly stopped breathing all together and Steve gently bit down.
“Fuck!” Billy swore, his voice at a loud whisper.
He couldn’t see it, but he knew Steve had a smug fucking grin on his face.
“You like that Hargrove?”
“Shut the fuck up Harrington!”
Steve just laughed and picked up his pace, back to his heavy breathing against his neck, the heat on his wet skin making Billy shiver. He could already tell he wouldn’t last much longer.
But Steve was the first to speak up.
“Ah, I’m gonna fucking cum!” Steve said it like it was a moment of defeat, which made Billy wonder how long it usually took for Steve to reach climax with all those other girls he bragged about taking to bed. But Billy wasn’t one to talk, because he was right there with him.
“Fuck, me too.”
Steve removed the hand that was at Billy’s shoulder, and Billy was about to start complain, but then the same hand found itself wrapped right around Billy’s cock, thumb grazing over the tip with a gentle touch that drastically differed from the still strong force that was Steve’s other hand still pressing into his skull. Billy let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he nearly instantly finished directly into Steve’s hand, but the moan was almost drowned out by Steve’s voice which matched his volume as he filled up the condom from inside Billy after a final slam directly into his prostate, and Steve finally at that moment let up of the force against Billy’s head.
And Billy nearly fell directly to the floor. He couldn’t feel his own fucking legs anymore.
Steve fell backwards into one of the benches behind them, sitting his bare naked ass right on the seat as his whole body slumped forward. He pulled the condom off of his dick with a hand coated in a mixture of lube and Billy’s come.
Billy still hadn’t turned around, all of that confidence he had at the start just washing away in an instant, afraid to face Steve. Nothing started to hurt until it was actually over, and that pain was largely not even physical.
And Steve noticed that. He noticed how Billy’s entire mood changed. Just silent with his face and hands still plastered up against those locker doors like he was holding on for dear life.
Steve wiped his hand off on that towel that dropped to the floor at the whole start of it, and got back up from where he was seated on the locker room bench. He walked up to Billy and placed a firm, but not forceful hand up to Billy’s shoulder where he could already see the redness forming itself into a bruise.
“Hey.” Steve said, his voice soft.
Billy let out a long and heavy breath, like he had been holding it up until the moment Steve spoke. Steve gently turned Billy around to face him, removing him from the lockers he was practically glued to, and did something that was uninvited.
He gently traced his fingers down the length of Billy’s jaw, and when no effort was made to step back or lean away, he kissed him. Gentle on the lips where he could taste the blood on the inside of Billy’s mouth, something he didn’t really want to think too long and hard about. Billy closed his eyes and leaned into it. It was soft and sweet and completely unlike the rough and bruising fuck they just had, and that was the missing piece.
The feeling of Steve’s hands gripping his body and the sight of the bruises he left afterwards stopped feeling like a pain, but a reminder, a good fucking reminder that didn’t last nearly long enough.
But one thing he remembered was that old demand from his little sister back in November. To leave Steve alone. But if ignoring that demand was going to deliver this kind of promise, Billy doesn’t think he’ll be listening to that one any time soon.
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catboyshinsou · 3 years
Text
nightmares
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pairing: shinsou x gn!reader
warnings: graphic descriptions of a nightmare, blood, death, panic attacks ?, kitty nickname, pro hero shinsou (sfw)
summary: you just moved in with shinsou but somehow nightmares have been plaguing you. one night you have the worst one yet
a/n: ty for 200 followers!! <33
Shinsou didn't sleep much. There was too much on his brain for him to waste precious time on sleep, there was too much to do, too much to think about. He knew it wasn't the healthiest thing to do but it's not like he deprived himself of sleep, his body just didn't let him and there wasn't much he could do about it. As an active Pro Hero there were just some sacrifices to be made for the job and if sleep loss was one of them then so be it.
You, on the other hand, managed to maintain a quite healthy sleeping schedule next to him. At least you tried to get continuous six hours of sleep every night, even if that still wasn't nearly enough for an average human being. But what could you do, there was a lot to do and not enough time to do it.
For some reason, Shinsou worried about you not sleeping enough. You chuckled when he brought it up to you at breakfast when you moved in with him.
“I don't think you're one to speak, Hitoshi.”
“Are you saying me not sleeping is something to not be worried about?”
You rolled your eyes and drank your tea. “I get enough sleep, don't worry about it okay?”
The dark circles under your eyes rivaled his, earning a frown from your boyfriend. He didn't like seeing you tired. He never has. Even though you were always tired, according to you, he could tell when your sleep quality was declining.
“Have you been having nightmares again?”
His purple eyes met yours as he swirled the coffee in his mug. Rain hit against the window and you heard the trees rustling in the wind.
Waking up in cold sweat, panting and almost crying before rushing to the bathroom to shock your system with cold water. It was a picture and feeling you knew too well. Nightmares and terrors did indeed haunt you like a little girl haunted a house. You've tried everything to ease them; medication, meditation, yoga, asmr, everything and still you had one at least once a week.
With the move into Shinsou’s apartment (because he was almost always working and wanted to see you more and his place was closer to your workplace anyway), it didn't really get better either even though his arms afterwards were always comforting. It felt more like symptomatic help not like you were finding a cause to make it stop though.
You took a deep breath. Was there a point in lying when he'd find out soon enough that you laid in bed almost scared to fall asleep when he was on night patrol because he wouldn't be there to calm you down if you did have one? Well, was it lying since you in theory didn’t currently have any nightmares?
“You know that no answer is an answer as well, kitty...” His low and soft voice crept up your neck as he put his arms around you. In the moments you were contemplating how much lying made sense, he'd finished his coffee and made his way to you for a lazy hug from behind.
He smelt nice, his slightly damp hair against your cheek as he rested his head on your shoulder. The purple tuffs tickled you as he got comfortable in the crook of your neck. You put his arms over his, on your tummy and took another breath.
“So you haven't been sleeping at all then?”
The only time you've been feeling comfortable and safe was when Hitoshi came home at 4 in the morning, slipped out his hero gear and got into bed with you. You, always pretending to be sleeping so he didn't worry, just waited for his whispered “goodnight kitty, i love you” as he put his arms around you for three or four more hours of sleep with you. Only then could you close your eyes and let yourself sink into your feared REM phase.
“You worry too much for me, 'Toshi…” With an exhausted sigh you leaned back, your head on his shoulder behind you. You traced circles on his forearm, feeling his goosebumps as you did.
“I'd be a crap hero if I cared for the general public but not for my love at home, wouldn't I?” He placed a kiss on your temple. “So?”
“I've been sleeping fine.”
“Y/n.” He stretched the last part of your name, his voice vibrating up your neck.
“You're free for the weekend right?”
Shinsou sighed at your attempt of changing subjects, not having enough energy to insist on you telling the truth. He hummed in response.
He had a two day break from hero work or at least from patrolling and going in. There was a ton of paperwork sitting on his desk for him, as well as 50 unread emails he had to get to. But he didn't complain. At least you were there to keep him company while you did your thing.
The two of you finished up breakfast and started into your day of free time which was actually just work in disguise.
Before you knew it, the day had passed and both of you laid in bed together, attempting to sleep. Well, you did. It was already well past midnight, everything around you quiet except for Shinsou who hummed a tune next to you and tapped on his keyboard.
He had his laptop on his lap, answering some more emails and scheduling their sending for 7am while making sure you knew he was there. You could feel his warmth under the blanket but the auditory reassurance helped.
You were on your tummy, facing away from you while hugging your pillow since your actual boyfriend wasn't up for cuddles right now. With closed eyes, you rolled over to face him.
“Hitoshi, go to sleep”, you said in a drowsy voice, half asleep yourself. “You can send the emails when you wake up…”
Shinsou just gave you a quick chuckle before kissing your head. “I'll be done in a minute, kitty. I just need a few more and then I’m all yours, I promise.”
His humming continued and he put his hand on your back, stroking it up and down until you were completely asleep. Your breaths got deeper and you moved around less, making your boyfriend smile.
It felt as if he had just gotten a toddler to sleep after watching a superhero movie, even if you had not been staying awake because you were restless but because you refused to go to bed if he wasn't in it. He had promised you that he would come to bed as soon as he could but both of you were stubborn. It was just a staring contest until Shinsou got up and carried his laptop to the bedroom with you pulling him at his hand.
Now, you laid next to him in peaceful manner, breathing, recharging.
"Toshi?”
You ran down the staircase, struggling with the heavy doors that separated each floor.
“Hitoshi?”
It never seemed to end, doors after doors after doors after doors. It was just doors going on. Heavy metal doors, painted white with cheap paint. It still smelled like paint in some of the staircases.
Your hands started slipping off the handles, sweat covering them like a thick layer of honey. You could hear a faint voice behind this even heavier door, needing your whole strength to open it up.
The clear sweat on your hands started staining the handle red. You pulled them back and stared at the blood covering your palms before looking back up and seeing Shinsou bloodied up in front of you.
He was panting, his face swollen and bruised and his hands tied behind his back. On his knees, he fell towards you with his capture weapon now a bright red instead of the usual dirty white.
“OH MY GOD, HITOSHI?”
You pushed him back to find the source of the flood, opening his hero suit and trying to untie his hands before he spat out blood all over you.
“You'll be fine okay? Everything is gonna be okay, you just need to stay awake and I'll find where you're bleeding from and it's gonna be fine, you can't leave me okay?”
A waterfall of words left you as you laid him on his back and examined his body. He just laughed and stared at the ceiling, his usually bright purple eyes now dull and almost grey.
You located his wound at his tummy right above the belly button, splurging out blood with his heavy breath. There was a faint whistle whenever he exhaled, you examined his chest and could feel a clearly broken rib.
Oh god, you weren't any type of medical care practitioner, what were you supposed to do?? Think, think, think…
“Kitty…” Shinsou put his cold hand on your tear stained cheeks.
“Shhh, don't talk okay??? I just need a second to figure things out, you'll be fine just- just stay awake okay??”
A hoarse chuckle left him. “Sorry for staining your white shirt… I know you always complain about how it never properly washes…”
He faded away, the cold of his hands on your cheeks leaving you last before you were met by a blinding light.
“Hi-hitoshi??? HITOSHI???”
You looked around. There was a field of red roses around you, the bloodstains gone from the scene of a few seconds ago. It smelt metallic.
There was a sticky feeling beneath your shoes. Something told you to not look down. Not avert your eyes from the endless field of roses in front of you. But you were stubborn and never learned out of your mistakes.
You were met with a puddle of blood, Shinsou’s dead body at your feet along with your close friends and family. They surrounded you, eyes open and skin drained of any blood. The roses dripped with their blood, dancing in the wind.
You tried screaming but the only thing that left you was silence, a dreadful high pitched beep in the distance. The tears fell like you did to your knees to touch your loved ones for the last time.
A deep breath forced you awake, eyes fluttering open as you checked your surroundings. You gripped your bedsheets, hoping to find Shinsou next to you but the space was empty and cold.
The tears started falling as you got on your feet and tumbled towards the bathroom.
It was only a dream right? Not a flashback or a future forecast, right? Your quirk didn't have anything to do with looking into the future or past, so it couldn't be, it couldn't be…
“Hi-hi-hitoshi??” With a weak voice, you called out as you doused the nape of your neck with cold water, your head in the sink in a position that was more than just uncomfortable.
Your mind was too foggy to remember who it was that advised you to “shock” your system with cold water but whoever it was saved your life more than once. The tears kept falling as you lost feeling in your neck from the overbearing cold water.
“Please just stop, I can't take it anymore…” You sobbed into the sink as you turned off the water.
Heavy footsteps came your way. You sank onto the floor and hugged your knees, feeling the salty tears dripping onto them.
Shinsou lowered down next to you. With more than concern on his face he cupped your face and forced you to look at him. You could only sniffle as he spoke, his words only grazing you. You barely heard him, only saw his mouth move and his head nod.
“I.. can’t... hear… you…” You sniffled between every word, struggling to get air properly. Your body didn't allow you to take a proper breath, only shallow breaths leaving your chest.
It wasn't like your ears suddenly stopped working. You could hear the dripping of the water in the sink and cat pawing at the bathroom window to be let in. But somehow your brain had a hard time processing what Shinsou was saying, somehow translating it to gibberish.
Shinsou watched you, looking at his face and trying your best to stop crying. His thumb caressed your cheek as he tried figuring out what to do. It's been a while since you had a snap out this bad. Last time he used his quirk to make you realise that the dream wasn't real while also calmly easing your body into relaxation. Though he tried keeping his quirk usage on you to a minimum to avoid any type of complications.
Instead he took your hand in his and pressed it as tight as he could without actually hurting you. Sudden pain was one of the easiest ways to snap your body out of panic, physically and mentally. It reminded the body to snap out of it while telling the person that they were indeed real.
“It's over kitty okay?” He kept his tone low and as calm as possible. Even if you couldn't hear him, his tranquility would help you relax as well or at least not stir you up more. “I'm here and you're here. It was only a dream, you're okay now.”
He pressed your hand to his heart. “You feel that? That's my heartbeat, I'm here with you. It was just a dream…”
You focused on your boyfriend and his warm hand around yours. Your breaths got deeper and deeper, Shinsou breathing with you until the tears stopped.
“Hey, see that wasn't so hard was it?” Shinsou smiled, a small sigh of relief leaving him.
Almost immediately, you flung your arms around him and just took him in. He was real. Not dead or a hallucination. He was here and had his arms around you while rubbing your back.
Shinsou had only left the bed for 5 minutes to finish up his emails and put away his laptop. You had been asleep for a while, he was sure that you wouldn't notice his absence so he just got up and finished up his work. Next thing he knew, there was water running in the bathroom and some stuff falling from the shelves.
“You were dying… dead…” You mumbled into his shoulder, eyes still wet. “I couldn't help you and-”
Tears soaked his shirt as you recalled the nightmare. Your tummy turned inside out when you thought back at the grotesque imagery.
“It's okay now. I'm not dead, right?”
“N-no…”
“Can we go back to bed or do you wanna stay awake a little longer?”
It was around 2am now. Even if neither of you had to call in for work in the morning, Hitoshi still wanted to get you to sleep as fast as possible so you could recover from that horrible nightmare.
“Are you gonna be in bed too?”
“I'm all yours…”
You nodded and got on your feet before wiping away the tears. Shinsou followed and patted your back as you washed your face. He liked keeping his hand around you just to put your mind at ease. Around your waist, in your shoulder, in yours… Anywhere just so you knew he was there.
Both of you laid together, you on his chest with his hands on your back. You heard his heartbeat and felt his chest rise and fall. Your arms were wrapped around him and gripped onto him tight.
“Sleep now okay? I'm not going anywhere…”
The drowsiness kicked back in and you closed your eyes, struggling to keep them that way whenever graphic scenes came up again.
“I'm scared…”
“That's okay… Nightmares are scary but they can't do you any harm… And even if they can, I'm here to protect you okay?” Almost like a whisper, he breathed the words into your ear and kissed your forehead. “I'll be here for you all night long until you wake up again…”
You took a quick breath and closed your eyes again. “Can you hum?”
“Of course…”
Maybe it was quirk related, maybe it was just you but Shinsou’s humming always had a relaxing effect on you. He had quite the singing voice actually, though he rarely ever used it outside of home. But any type of music that left him worked like a natural relaxer on you. Combined with his back rubs and temple kisses, your eyes stayed shut and you drifted back into sleep. This time without staircases, roses or blood.
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pokelec · 3 years
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A Dead By Daylight Novice Reviews All the Killers' Trailers (and makes suggestions for what they'd change)
Reveal trailers are paramount for an audience's first look at new characters. First impressions are everything, so your trailer for your shiny new character needs to be perfect for what's in store for the video game! I started playing DBD a month-ish ago but watched all the trailers for the killers before I started playing, and watching some of them got me to thinking about how I would have changes some of the trailers. Some require no changes, while others I think need an overhaul.
Disclaimer: This is in my personal opinion, is not objective at all, and I'm only doing this because this is something I've been thinking about for a month and need some sort of release or else my brain will implode.
Under a read more bc this gets long.
The Trapper - The first trailer! For a first trailer, I think this one is pretty spot on. It follows a lot of beats of slasher movies, in terms of following a survivor that's gonna be killed, her encountering dead bodies, and the suspense of the killer looking for her. Considering Dead by Daylight is effectively a playable horror movie, I think this is a perfect intro to the game. As for what this means for the Trapper, aka our Jason substitute, I think it showed him off alright! We saw his bear traps and got a good look at him doing this thing. Pretty good, all things considered!
The Wraith - The Wraith, Hillbilly, and Nurse all features gameplay as the means of showing off what the killers can do. The Wraith's isn't too bad, since it does show off his Wailing Bell power enough for people to understand "This is a killer that can turn invisible, and you may not know he's right next to you until it's too late". I wish it has a more cinematic style, but I'll be forgiving here because DBD was still young when this was made. I also thing it showed the new map, Autohaven, pretty well. I'm not too big of a fan of ending the trailer with his mori, but that could be because I don't find his mori exciting.
The Hillbilly - Next is our Leatherface expy! This one feels shorter, still using gameplay to introduce our new killer but at least shows off his chainsaw wielding and hints at the map associated with him. I like the shot of him revving his chainsaw underneath the tree with the animal carcasses! I don't mind the ending with his mori here because even if it's off screen, getting cut with a chainsaw is brutal enough to leave a lasting impression. Again, I wish it had the cinematic style, but it's fine.
The Nurse - I think the Nurse's trailer is the weakest of the three gameplay-focused trailers. The text intro is... fine, but I honestly think it fits the Doctor more. It does an okay job of showing us her Blinking mechanics, but it also doesn't? Like we see her teleporting to Nea, but it feels lackluster. I do like the ending shot of dead Nea as the Nurse just blinks away. I'm not quite sure how to change this trailer to be more effective in my opinion, if I'm being honest.
The Shape/Michael Myers - Our first franchise killer, and a perfect trailer. The first second in, we hear John Carpenter's legendary Halloween score. Even non-horror fans will quickly pick up which killer this is. The suspense of Laurie see Michael, Michael coming up the stairs, and especially the shot of Laurie and Michael being on opposite sides of a door is *chef's kiss*. We see enough of the Shape to be satisfied and eager for his release. It's the perfect trailer for him AND Laurie imo.
The Huntress - Ah, the Huntress. She is my favorite killer to play as, and I probably have the majority of my playtime on her. Unfortunately, I think her trailer leaves a lot to be desired. It's the start of the 'let's look at the killer from different angles, have them turn around to the camera, and then attack the viewer' trend of DBD trailers. I call for a complete rewrite! Here's what I would have done:
The map is Mother's Dwelling. Two survivors (David aaaand idk Dwight?) are running and hides behind some trees. We hear the Huntress's lullaby get louder, and we see the bottom half of her and her axe as she walks past the survivors. The lullaby gets quieter, and the survivors take a sigh of relief. Then, a hatchet is thrown and lodged into Dwight's head! David screams and runs. We then see our full look at the Huntress as she picks up the body. Her signature lullaby continues as the trailer ends.
The Hag - The Hag's trailer also follows a similar formula to the Huntress' trailer. There is an animation bump, so we get to see the Hag's emaciated appearance in full detail. I'm not too mad about that, since the Hag's appearance is unsettling enough to cause viewer distress and curiosity more than the Huntress' would. However, because this is a DBD original killer, we need to see what her deal is with her trailer. Thus, I propose this:
On the swamp, Ace is repairing a generator but hears another survivor (Dwight?) get hooked. Ace goes to rescue him, but we see as he steps on a rune in front of the poor survivor. The illusion of the Hag pops up, jumpscaring poor Ace (and the audience) but disappears. Ace then rescues Dwight for real, but Dwight quickly runs away. Why? Because the real Hag is behind Ace and lunges at him, biting his neck. Trailer ends.
The Doctor - I now realize that my taste in writing DBD trailers is 'have the survivor do a thing, they think the killer is near, they then relax, and only then are they attacked by the killer'. It's a bit stereotypical, but again, we're dealing with a game centered on the horror genre, so that's why I'm okay with it.
I mention this because that's effectively the story beats the the Doctor's trailer follows. Instead of attacking Feng, however, the Doctor just looks at her run and stares menacingly. Even though we don't see the Doctor's shock therapy powers here, I think the long look at the killer is still effective because of his design. A first reaction I (and other reactors) experienced went from the initial "OMG the killer is here, run girl!" to "Why tf are his own eyes and mouth held open like that A Clockwork Orange scene?!". We also don't linger for too long on him either, so I think this trailer works well enough.
The Cannibal/Leatherface - Another franchise killer, this time good ol Leatherface! This trailer is a little different, using text to draw up suspense. I do like the reveal of "What is his mask made of? YOU.", but I would've loved to have seen some actual Cannibal action, or at least his in-game model doing his Texas chainsaw massacring thing.
The Nightmare/Freddy Kruger - Oh, c'mon, we got one of the most well known characters in horror in this little video game, and all we get for his trailer is some scratch marks and a 'killer does nothing but stand there menacingly and attack the camera' trailer?! I do like the detail that when we see him, it's DBD's version of the dream world, but we could've at least featured a survivor falling asleep and then seeing him for themselves.
(Also kinda sad it's the reboot version of Freddy instead of the Wes Craven version and the survivor is Quentin instead of Nancy Freaking Thompson, but I guess we should be happy he's in the game at all)
The Pig - Largely, I think this trailer is pretty good. I'm not too big of a fan of Amanda just standing there menacingly near Dwight, but I do like everything else. I especially love the security camera shot of the famous Saw bathroom and the cutaway when Dwight's reverse bear trap activates (but we still see a good bit of gore!). It feels very Saw-like.
The Clown - This trailer is pretty good! Even though we don't see the Clown in much action, we get a lot of visual storytelling with the bottles, the circus, and the ring of fingers, all leading up to the reveal of his face. The diagetic music from Kate is a nice touch, too.
The Spirit - This one is alright. There is a lot of focus on Adam, but it does build up tension to when the Spirit reveals herself. My biggest problem with it is the ending card that is used for her. Yes, I know that's traditional for the end of these trailers, but her pose and expression is kinda meh after the face she makes when she's about to attack Adam. Seriously, that couple of seconds haunts me (sorry) otherwise.
The Legion - My other favorite killer to play! It's so funny how I didn't like Legion when I first heard of them but now they're my favorites. I love how the trailer emphasizes that the new killer(s) looks similar to survivors and the brutality of when Frank reveals himself and stabs Jeff. However, the trailer does a disservice to the other members of the Legion. C'mon, that's their whole shtick!
My recommendation would be to end with a shot of Julie, Joey, and Suzie joining Frank (and obviously getting a good look at them) and surrounding Jeff right before they all stab him. This is a little disingenuous since you can't play as all four of them at once (unless you count that one Blighted skin...), but you also can't disguise yourself as a survivor, so... Yeah. They are The Legion! They act as one! Treat them as such in their trailer, dammit!
The Plague - The Plague's trailer is interesting. Even though we don't see her in action, I think it's fine because seeing her puke on people during her trailer might be a bit off-putting. Just a bit. We still get some storytelling with her whispered prayers, the candles and incense thingy, and, of course, her face. I think because the Plague's design is inherently unique among all the killers so far, she can get away with the 'let's just tease the audience by looking at the killer and nothing else' trend.
The Ghost Face - Not too much I can complain about with this one. I do like the wtf factor of 'wait, why is a DBD trailer at a modern day warehouse???', especially if you're watching a trailer playlist like I first did. It all makes sense when you learn it's Ghost Face, though! Also, justice for that poor cashier.
The Demogorgon - RIP Stranger Things DLC. I don't watch this series, but I really like the Hawkins Lab map and I'm going to be sad when it's gone. :(
I love this trailer! When I hear the Stranger Things music, it actually gives me chills. I'm legitimately so sad the DLC will be gone from the stores, but I do own them myself. I need to actually sit down and play Demo, Steve, and Nancy one of these days. Why am I crying? No, I'm not kidding, why is this trailer making me cry? Renew the contract, Netflix, please! I don't want this stuff to disappear forever!
(Is it weird that I've been nagged on for years to watch Stranger Things but it's Dead By Daylight that's actually convincing me to watch it?)
The Oni - This is an interesting case. The "main" theme of this trailer is the contrast of modern day Japan's Yui and her motorcycle vs the literal ancient samurai Oni. I think it works out, and again, I think the presentation makes up for us not seeing too much of the new killer.
The Deathslinger - Oh boy, do I love my cowboys! This trailer is nearly perfect. We establish the western setting quickly over the sounds of some poor bastard in pain. The reeling in of the chains and the closeup of The Redeemer is so great. My biggest complaint with this trailer is that we linger a bit too long on the Deathslinger's face at the end. Yeah, he's creepy with his eyes and his disjointed jaw, but you can only look at a horror for so long before you want to move on.
The Executioner/Pyramid Head - I like this trailer! I haven't played Silent Hills, but I'm at least somewhat familiar with the premise and Pyramid Head. I love the shot of him passing the classroom door window and the sword cutting a rift through the ground. Yeah, my lack of SH knowledge makes me unable to recommend any changes here.
The Blight - I have no changes to suggest. The Blight's transformation is super horrific, reminding me of the typical depiction of Jekyll and Hyde. Honestly, he is so much more terrifying in his trailer and in lore than in gameplay.
The Twins - No changes needed. BHVR is really starting to hit their stride with these trailers! Seeing Victor come out of Charlotte's body is amazing.
The Trickster - We depart from all of the other trailers by using an K-POP music video style. It does a good job at referencing some of his story beats (namely torturing/killing people, recording their screams, and using them in his music), but it doesn't really make me afraid of the Trickster. Sure, it fits with his theme, but I would have preferred seeing more of him, y'know, instead of just looking pretty and making faces? I still wouldn't change the art style of the trailer, though. It's fitting enough for him and a breath of fresh air from the doom and gloom.
The Nemesis - No change needed, mostly because I'm not too familiar with the Resident Evil series, but seeing Jill, the twink Leon, and Nemesis on-screen is a very cool moment. Also can we get an F in chat for Meg?
The Cenobite/Pinhead - This is a perfect trailer. We got the Lament Configuration, we got the chains pinning up Dwight, we got Pinhead himself! What more can I ask for?
If you actually made it this far, thank for reading? I don't think I really contribute anything to the fandom with this analysis, but DBD has been living rent free in my brain for the past month, so I may as well write something, eh?
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Recovery [Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader]
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A/N: Hello all! This is my first Pedro Pascal work and the first to be posted here to this blog. If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to send them my way! As always, please read the tags/warnings, you are responsible for the media you choose to consume. Also posted to AO3 under the same username (kingofkingdom). I did not use “y/n” or anything similar in this story.
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You were taken from your younger sister, Cee, ten years ago. When you answered a distress call from the Green, you didn’t expect to be reunited with her, and you certainly didn’t expect to meet a man like Ezra. 
Warnings: mention of past violence/death, discussion of medical procedure, discussion of disability (amputation/loss of limb), family dynamics, abstract discussion of philosophy, small SW universe cameo :)
Tags: considerable amounts of fluff, size kink, daddy kink, hint of dd/lg, copious use of various pet names, p-in-v sex, some breast play/worship, some dom!ezra & sub!reader
Word count: 9552
You hadn't seen Cee since your mother died. 
Her father had taken her and left you in the care of your aunt, a woman you didn't know, a woman who jumped at the chance to send you off to boarding school on the Ephrate the moment you were old enough. Most of your memories consisted of your host family there, with a younger "sister" who reminded you all too much of the one you had lost. In your mind, Cee was still a toddler, all wispy blonde hair and big blue eyes.
Cee's father had never liked you. You were the evidence of his wife's life before him, and you looked too much like your own deceased father for him to have any affection toward you. It didn't surprise you that he left you behind after your mother died, but at ten that didn't make it hurt any less. 
Since then, ten years had passed. Now, your aunt was gone, and your studies on the Ephrate completed. You'd taken to a rather nomadic lifestyle, catching rides from planet to station to planet and picking up odd jobs here and there. It wasn't much, but you'd become a strong woman in your time on your own, and thoughts of your half-sister plagued you only some nights now.
Jobs you took ranged from helping the lone-wolf prospector on an excavation to ship repairs at major stations across the system. In one of your darker moments, you'd even carried out a hit against some low-level merc who'd pissed off the wrong people. Those people paid well, enough to fill your stomach for a few days and cover a ride far away from that moon. The right circles knew you could hold your own, and that's what mattered.
This particular station was on the outskirts of the system, a rough-and-tumble place frequented only by prospectors and the people that paid them. You'd taken a shift at the bar here a few weeks ago, and knew the locals pretty well. In a spot like this, people could often get more information at your humble establishment than they could from the officials. You were lying low, and you itched to get moving again, like the nomad you were.
Hence why you kept the radio channels on all the time during your shifts, quiet and unobtrusive where you stood at the bar.
You were thankful, looking back, that it had been a quiet afternoon, and that you'd been so vigilant in keeping track of job openings.
"This is Kilo-Romeo 12, calling from Green sector 608. In need of assistance pronto, rapid extraction A.S.A.P."
The voice is faint, but frantic - a masculine growl laced with an edge of panic. Your radio isn't the best, and you don't recognize the prospector's callsign, but you know he must be in deep shit. A call like this from the Green is a death sentence if someone doesn't act quickly.
As with most of your decisions, you act entirely on impulse. As you hit the button to close up the bar's doors, the radio is already in your hands.
"This is Juno B-390, responding to Kilo-Romeo 12. Do you copy?"
You're down the hall by now, rushing to your quarters to collect your meager belongings. Everything fits in a single pack, and you're just pulling your helmet onto your head when the radio crackles to life again.
"I copy, Juno B-390," the relief is evident in his voice, even through the static. "We need extraction and medical care."
Well, that wasn't in the initial signal. "We? How many are with you? And what kind of medical care are we talkin' here?"
"Just me and one other. Deep trauma to the abdomen, I'm afraid."
You swear under your breath. Nothing you can't handle, but this guy's timer's really running out. You grab the necessary supplies and dash to your small pod racer, which is just big enough with its three seats.
"Hang on, Kilo-Romeo. I'll be there as soon as I'm able. You'll need to direct me to your exact location, is that clear?"
There's a moment of silence before his voice echoes through your racer one last time.
"Clear."
-
You descend upon the Green as fast as the forces of physics and gravity allow you to. Sector 608, as it says on your map, is a stretch of deep woods and rolling terrain, nearly unexplored save for the last rush. You slow up as you approach, and call out to the prospector over the radio once again.
"Kilo-Romeo 12, this is Juno B-390. I am approaching your location. Do you copy?"
It's quiet. Much too quiet. You slow the racer even more, as your heart begins to race. Just as you begin to worry that you're too late, the radio awakens.
It's not the man, however, whose voice you hear.
"This is Ez-- I mean, this is Kilo-Romeo's... uh... companion. He's gotten worse."
It's a girl. A young teen, from the sound of it. Your heart clenches, thinking of how scared she must be out there.
"Okay, hey there. It's gonna be okay. Can you tell me what landmarks you see? Help me find you."
"Um, yeah. We're in a clearing, there's another ship right nearby. It's not operational, which is wh-- uh, yeah. Clearing, big ship. Also sort of a gulley nearby."
You're about to respond when she speaks again.
"Please, hurry."
"I will, kid. Just keep him alive."
It takes you longer than you would've liked to find this clearing, but once you do you see a scene that brings more questions than answers. Dead bodies litter the field and a half-blown excavation site sits in ruins. Discretion's always been a virtue of yours, though, so you file the information away in your brain and swiftly land your craft. As soon as you exit, you hear the girl's voice not too far away.
"Here! We're over here!"
You grab the field kit and run over to where she stands over a slumped figure. The man you'd spoken to is now unconscious, and not only does he have a nasty looking wound in his chest, he's missing an arm. You look up at the girl. Her brows are furrowed, eyes like steel. You like her already.
"Go to the racer and grab the stretcher that's behind the passenger seat. We'll have to move him onto that and carry him over."
She nods and runs off. Immediately, you turn to the man and take stock of his injuries. The arm has been gone for at least a little while, so that's not of immediate concern. You set to treating the chest wound, making sure to purge it and his suit of dust. Nasty stuff, that which floats around this planet. His filter is as good as gone, so you quickly connect your own.
You drain the wound with the juice the locals here produce, which is generally in stock in the station's field kits. It smells rank, but it works, and the man below you groans. Good, he's still vocal, at least. It doesn't sound like a lung's been punctured. You set up a highly temporary pocket over his wound and torn suit through which you can patch the injury. You take some foaming antiseptic and apply it to the wound before adhering a sticky bio-bandage over the top of it. 
It'll do for now. He'll need further treatment at the station, but this should keep him alive, at least. 
The girl returns with the stretcher then, and places it next to the man. You glance up at her, and see momentarily a young version of yourself. Eager to help. Eager to make things right. 
You shake your head, collecting your thoughts. "Okay, so I'm going to tilt his body towards me, and you slide the stretcher as far as you can under him. Then we'll let him down on top of it and secure him for travel. Can you do that?"
She nods, and you give her a small smile. You hook one arm around the man's waist, the other supporting his neck and shoulder. 
"On three, okay? One... two... three!"
Quickly, you roll him up onto his remaining arm as she slides the stretcher under him. As gently as possible, you let him back down, and just like that he's mostly on the stretcher. You set to arranging him properly and tying straps down. 
The girl fidgets, and you look up to her.
"Do you know how to stow the back seat in a racer like that?" you ask, and she nods.
"Good, go do it."
She runs off, and is back by the time you've gotten the man secured to the stretcher.
"You take the handles at his feet and I'll take his head. We have to be careful not to tilt him too much, to keep the weight on the stretcher even. Did he suffer any head trauma?"
The girl shakes her head. "No, I don't think so."
You probably should have asked that before moving him onto the stretcher, but then again no one's ever known you for your excellence in trauma care. Your knowledge of first aid comes only from what you've picked up in the field, so sometimes the order of operations gets a bit jumbled. 
Whatever. He'll be okay. You can't let yourself think otherwise.
The girl stoops to grab hold of the handles at his feet. You do the same at his head, and again you count backwards from three.
"Up!"
Together you stand, and twin groans echo from both of you. The girl huffs, clearly struggling a bit under the weight.
"Okay, let's go. Slowly, remember."
You walk backwards, feet taking cautious steps so as to keep the same pace as the young girl. Her face is screwed up in focus and concentration, hands in a vice grip on the handles. 
"You're doing good, kid. Just a bit further."
Before you know it, you've reached the ship. Carefully, you set the stretcher in the racer, and then the two of you slide it in. There's just barely enough room for it. You quickly secure it, and then close the hatch.
The girl is looking at you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You reach out a gloved hand and set it on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. 
"He'll be okay. I promise. Now go get in the passenger seat and I'll get us back up to the station."
She nods, and seems to relax a bit at that. You can't help but wonder what she's been through, out here in this rough, unforgiving environment. "Thank you."
You smile, and sincerely hope that this young girl finds a way to leave this life of prospecting behind. You don't know how she got here, but it's no place for someone so young. You know that all too well.
"Let's go, kid."
-
The trip was pretty quiet save for a single groan from the man in back. The girl glanced back to him when she heard that, and then looked at you, concerned.
"It's okay. He'll be in and out of consciousness until we get to the station. I'll pull up to the emergency med-bay so the doctors can start treating him properly right away."
You look over to her, and she nods.
"Does he have anyone they can contact? Any family?" you ask. "The doctors will need to know."
She shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."
You sigh. "Okay. Well, we'll deal with that when we get there."
It's not long after that you arrive at the med-bay. It's a whirlwind of nurses and questions and forms, most of which you have to leave blank, since you don't know the guy and the girl seems not to know much more. She does, however, give you a name.
"His name's Ezra," she offers, when she sees you pause at the line on the top of the screen.
You look over at her. "Ezra? Spelled E-Z-R-A?"
She nods. "Never told me a last name though."
"That's alright. A first name's enough."
She sits next to you and helps where she can as you fill out the form. Once you're done, you go up to hand the tablet back to the receptionist. You then sit back down next to her, crossing your arms over your flight suit. The girl's fiddling with her fingers, bag tucked between her feet.
"Do you think we'll be able to see him when they're done?" she asks, clearly trying not to sound as worried as she is.
You shrug. "Probably. It might be a while, though. Do you want something to eat while we wait?"
She nods, and when you look over at her, she's smiling. 
As it turns out, it does take a pretty long time for them to complete the operation. It feels like hours that you two are sitting there. You watch the people come and go from the waiting room while the girl writes in some notebook, headphones secure over her ears, absently eating a chocolate bar.
She can't be more than 13 or 14. You think back to when you were that age - in the middle of your time at the Ephrate, moody and angsty like all young teens. It makes you think of Cee. She'd be about that age by now. You look over to the girl sitting next to you, wondering what ever became of your sister. Maybe she's at the Ephrate by now, or perhaps her father has taken her to some peaceful planet with beaches and a nice home, a few pets running around. 
Hopefully a better life than the one you've led. Somewhere far from thrower blasts and gemstones.
This girl seems nice enough, and you're sure she's seen her fair share of shit. It's clear this guy's not only not her father, but that they haven't known each other long at all. You can't help but wonder how they ended up traveling together. 
Images of the clearing littered with bodies flashes in your mind. Something went down there, and it clearly got ugly fast. It's amazing that the girl emerged relatively unscathed. You've seen a fair share of shootouts and fights, and never did you escape completely uninjured. It takes cleverness and a strong sense of self-preservation, the latter of which you don't often have.
You're ruminating on the mystery sitting next to you when the doors to the operating rooms swing open. A nurse steps out and looks at both of you. You stand, and she follows suit.
"He's awake, and asking for you," the nurse says. You nudge the girl slightly with your elbow.
"Go on, go see hi--"
The nurse cuts in. "He's asking for both of you."
Oh. You're surprised. He doesn't even know you, so there's no reason he should be asking to see you. Despite your confusion, you follow behind the girl as she follows the nurse to his room.
The hallways are sterile and white, cleaner than anything you've seen in months. The doorway is the last on the right, and inside is a single bed, with a small window looking out to the stars.
The young girl enters first as the nurse stands to the side, and you hover in the doorway to watch, still not quite feeling entirely welcome. You can just see the man's - Ezra's - hair behind the girl, with an unusual shock of blonde in otherwise dark brown curls.
"I was wondering where you went, birdie. One minute I was on the ground and next thing I know I'm sitting here like a babe in a bassinet, right as rain," he says, voice melodic with an accent you can't quite place.
"Do you feel better, Ezra?" the girl asks, voice wavering just slightly.
"I do. Are you faring alright yourself?"
She nods, and crosses her arms. Silence fills the room for a moment, then Ezra speaks again.
"Who was so kind as to bring us here, birdie?" he asks. The girl turns to you and steps aside so Ezra can see you.
"She did," she replies, a soft look on her face.
You step forward and look at Ezra properly for the first time. You hadn't really paid much attention to his facial features back on the Green, so concerned as you were with getting him out of there.
His dark brown eyes are kind, and his lips tease at a smile. He's got stubble growing on his chin and a mustache on his lip. There's a thin white line in the shape of a crescent underneath his left eye, the silvery remnant of a deep cut sustained long ago. He's older than you, maybe 40 or so. For some reason, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you're quick to snuff those out best you can. Mirroring the girl, you cross your arms, and flip your braid over your shoulder.
"Yeah, that would be me," you say, as nonchalantly as you can manage.
"I recognize that voice from the radio," he notes, looking at you intently. "I can't hardly give you enough thanks for getting the two of us out of that... sticky situation. You really are somethin' else, sugar."
You shrug, unused to such praise, such immediate kindness. You feel your face heat up with a blush, and you clear your throat.
"Well, it sure sounded like you were in need of some help. I'm happy to see you're doing better."
Your voice is softer than you intend. Spending even three minutes with this guy seems to have thrown you off balance. You haven't met anyone that talks like him since you were in school, and it's like a breath of fresh air.
His face turns serious at your words. Ezra's gaze is as intense as it is gentle, burning into your own.
"Oh, much better," he assures you, giving you a look you can't quite decipher. A smile quickly returns to his features. "It's a shame they couldn't get my arm to grow back."
You laugh a little at that, happy to see that he's in good spirits. The nurse steps forward then, tablet in hand. The three of you turn to her.
"Ezra will likely be discharged tomorrow morning, given how much progress he's made just today. He will need somewhere to rest, however, for the next week or so. We can help to make boarding arrangeme--"
"No," you interrupt, surprising even yourself. "No, he can stay with me. I have quarters in the 4th wing." You turn to the girl. "You can stay with me too, if you'd like." You don't know what's come over yourself, but you find yourself drawn to this unlikely pair.
The girl nods once, just as Ezra speaks up. "You're too kind, sugar. Your hospitality and generosity are appreciated beyond measure. Do let us know if there's any way at all we can show our gratitude."
You shake your head immediately, waving a hand as if to wave away the notion.
"No need for that. Consider it a celebratory gift for parting with the Green."
Everyone laughs at that - even the nurse, who hides her grin behind her tablet.
-
The next morning, you and the girl - whose name you still don't know, and who still does not know yours - visit the med-bay first thing after breakfast. Your quarters are small, enough to fit two comfortably and three at most. The girl has decided to take the sofa, since Ezra will need to rest, and a bed is most ideal for that. It seems you both tend to rise early, so you gave her some oatmeal and a cup of coffee. She took both without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to see her eat after however long she and Ezra had been out there.
When you two arrive, Ezra is waiting in his room, dressed in clean loungewear with a bag on his lap. He is seated in a wheelchair. You and the girl greet him, happy to see that he is rested and ready to leave.
"I told the kind folks that I am more than able to walk unaided," he comments when you begin to push the chair from behind. "They insisted, however, and I am not one to ignore the advice and orders of my physicians."
You see the girl try to hide a smile. It seems as though he's grown on her, and she struggles to admit that to herself. Before you can think better of it, you give Ezra a pat on the right shoulder, a small attempt at reassurance.
"You'll be walking in no time, I'm sure," you reply.
You feel his left hand cover your own, and you nearly stumble as you push him along through the hallway. His palm is rough and callused, a signature trait of most prospectors. It's large, too, covering your own entirely. Its warmth soaks through the back of your hand and into your stomach.
"With kindness as bright as yours to guide me, that will certainly be the case."
You don't know what to say to that, so you give his shoulder a squeeze and retract your hand.
The 4th wing is not too far from the med-bay; the station itself is smaller than most, so the distance is blessedly short. Ezra does most of the talking while the three of you walk.
"It would suit me just perfectly to never see that god-forsaken moon again so long as I live," he comments just as you reach the door to your quarters. You scan your ID card and the panel slides open, revealing a small but comfortable dwelling. "Forget the gems, forget the money. Prospecting is surely the most foolish endeavor of them all."
"The lust for wealth is stronger than the fear of death," you reply, almost without thinking.
Ezra looks up at you, smiling, a curious look on his face. "Asmolea. Ruminations, chapter seven. Color me impressed, sugar."
You look back, equally surprised. "You recognize that quote?"
"Why, yes, in fact, I do," he responds, and you notice the girl watching the two of you out of the corner of your eye. "I was an admirer of the great thinkers, long ago. When I was younger, and more -- well, more curious about such things, I suppose."
You wheel him into the small sitting area, arranged around a holo-screen. The walls are bare, lack of personality belying a short-lived residence here. You engage the wheelchair's brakes and take a seat yourself, across from him on an armchair. The girl sits on the sofa, where she slept last night.
"Philosophy is the sustenance of the mind," he continues, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. He winces slightly at the motion, but keeps speaking nevertheless. "Without it, we decay. We risk succumbing to trivial errors of man. It is the sharpening stone to the blade of our intellect."
"What about literature?" the girl asks, her eyes firey and brow set. "I think that's much more valuable than what some ancient guy thought about a world we don't even know anymore."
You smile, pleased at this contribution. "I think great literature can convey philosophical ideas in the form of a modern narrative. You just have to keep an eye out for it, and understand its relevance to the story."
Ezra nods along. "I agree. Where did you read Asmolea, sugar?"
"At the Ephrate," you reply, and you see the girl perk up. You smile at her, hoping the two of you will have a chance to discuss that later. She seems entirely intrigued by you now. "I studied there for seven years, until I was eighteen."
"Why did you leave?" the girl asks.
You sigh, and bring your foot up to rest on the chair, so your thigh is pressed against your front. "Life there didn't suit me. I'm much happier on my own, not surrounded by stuffy academics and pretentious businessmen. The only ones I could stand there were the monks."
Ezra laughs at that. "The Neo-Carthusians?"
You nod, grinning. "Yeah. Considered joining, for about a month or so. I admire their lives of solitude and contemplation, but I couldn't imagine staying in one place for so long."
The conversation flows between the three of you so naturally you hardly notice the time flying by. They ask questions about you, and you return the favor by inquiring about their lives. The girl is quiet when it comes to her past, but you find out her father died on the Green. Both she and Ezra are hesitant to talk about it, which tells you all that you need to know.
Night falls quickly, or at least night according to standard time - on the station, there is no night or day, just a constant darkness visible out the windows interrupted by pinpricks of light. Everyone follows the standard clock, which runs according to time on the Ephrate. 
You show Ezra to his room after the three of you have eaten dinner. It's a small space, just enough for a bed and a dresser. Carefully, he stands from the wheelchair, tosses his bag on the bed, and turns to look at you.
He's much taller than you are. The butterflies return as you look up at him, and a warm feeling radiates through the area below your stomach.
"Thank you again for the hospitality, sugar," he murmurs, voice low and deep. He moves the wheelchair out from between you, so there's nothing but air separating the two of you. "As I said, don't hesitate to ask if there is anything I can do to repay you. Anything at all."
You nod, at a loss for words. His hand comes up and gently brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. You positively melt. This man is going to be the death of you.
"I'm just glad to see you safe, Ezra," you reply, and your eyes flutter at the way his fingers linger over the apple of your cheek. His lips look so soft, his eyes full of promises he intends to keep. You can feel yourself falling, as if in a dream.
You blink and lean back, away from him. This is a bad idea. For what reason, you can't say, but you dart to your room as soon as you begin to doubt yourself.
You shut the door and lean against it. There's no way, your mind whispers to you. He feels indebted. That's the only reason. You're too young, he just sees you as a kid.
In your haste, you didn't see the look in his eyes as you left so suddenly, or the way he stared at the door long after you shut it.
-
In the night, you dream of him. Dark eyes above you, heavenly, filthy moans filling the air around you, something thick and perfect filling the empty space inside you. His musical voice murmurs sweet words in your ear, and you hear the sound of your passion just as much as you feel it. Your hands grip his hair as he thrusts, your body trembling underneath him.
Your peak startles you awake, and you find your bedsheets soaked with the evidence of your fantasy.
Your bedside clock tells you it is the early hours of the morning. With a sigh, you toss back the blankets and emerge from your room quietly. 
After a quick shower in the refresher, you step out and wrap a towel around yourself. You stare into the mirror, thinking about him.
You've never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before in your life. Sure, his looks contribute quite a bit, but it's much more than that. You and he seem to have a similar intellect, his passion and aptitude for prose matching your own knowledge and understanding of philosophy and the humanities. The girl is also equally respected by him as she is by you, and you both share a common want to see her thrive. You've known them both barely a day and a half, but they already feel more like family than anyone you've ever known.
You wonder if you're imagining his affections toward you. That could just be him, his way of communicating. You desperately hope it's more than that, but you also can't get your hopes up because of a silly dream.
A silly, beautiful dream.
Water drips from your hair, down your chest, and into the towel. As you begin to shiver, you decide to return to bed and try again for some uninterrupted sleep. You'll have to change the sheets, unfortunately, but that shouldn't take more than a few minutes.
You open the door and tiptoe back out into the hallway, quiet as a mouse. Just as you're about to sneak back into your room, towel clutched tightly in your fingers, you're startled by the door opposite your own sliding open.
And there he is. Dressed in little more than a pair of grey shorts, hair tousled and eyes weary with sleep.
He blinks a few times, and then his eyes widen, suddenly much more awake. You see him glance down, and his mouth parts ever so slightly before his gaze returns to your face.
You are frozen in place. Somewhere in your mind, you will your feet to dart away again, but the remnants of your dream still echo in your muscles, preventing you from leaving. Your hands tighten on your towel and despite yourself, you make note of his chest, his abdomen - the wound, which is an angry red line, held together with clear stitching, and which makes your heart clench at the thought of what would've happened had you not arrived - and finally, a rapid glance at his shorts, his thighs, before you find your sense and look back up at his face.
There's that intensity again, with considerably less gentleness. You inhale sharply, and spare a glance towards the sitting area, where the girl sleeps.
"She's quite the light sleeper, I'm afraid. I'd be mightily surprised if she didn't already hear --"
His voice is low, nearly inaudible to your ears as you look back at him. The tone of it causes the insides of your thighs to tremble, and your chest to heave with silent breaths. Ezra cuts himself off, clearly not having meant to say as much as he did.
Maybe it's the early hour that makes the words escape your lips with ease. Maybe it's the dream, the visions of which you can still see in your mind's eye as you look at him. Perhaps there's just something about Ezra that makes you bold, standing there with nothing more than thin terrycloth protecting your modesty.
"Hear what, Ezra?" you whisper, and set your jaw when his eyes widen ever so slightly.
Ezra reaches out, and his hand comes up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your jawline, behind your ear, and he steps forward. He's so close that you can feel the heat from his body on your own.
His lips press softly against your forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that makes you shiver. The hand that isn't clutching your towel moves to rest on his waist, golden skin warm under your cold fingers.
"Hear this, sweet thing," he murmurs against your skin, lips still pressed against you. "How strongly I feel for you. How deeply I know that it was divine providence that brought you to me. The ways I want to repay you for saving my life.”
His words are like molten gold, shimmering and hot as they slip over your skin and into your heart. You shiver, and your fingers curl gently into his side.
”I don’t - I don’t want you to feel obligated to... to do anything. With me. For me,” you whisper back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of this quiet moment. 
Ezra hums in dissent against your worries. “No... no...” he says, as his fingers slowly thread their way into your hair. “It isn't like that —“
He’s interrupted by a shuffling sound from the sitting room. You both freeze, wide-eyed, and look toward the room where the girl sleeps.
A moment passes, and then two. Enough that you know she is still asleep and there isn’t any risk of her finding you two like this.
It‘s like ice water thrown over you, the reminder of where and who you are. You look back up to Ezra, whose eyes are soft and knowing as they stare at you. His hand gently caresses the back of your neck, and then he brings it back to rest at his side.
"Go to bed, sweetheart," he murmurs, and then steps around you. He enters the refresher without another word.
You do as he says, but you find yourself struggling to fall back asleep once you return to clean, cool sheets. You watch the stars inch past outside your window as your mind races at the memory of his lips.
-
The next morning, you wake to sounds of movement coming from outside your door. For a moment you panic, before you remember your two visitors. And then you remember your encounter with one of those visitors last night, and the hushed words exchanged between you and him.
Beside you, the clock reads barely past 06:00, which is usually the time you wake up anyway. Today you have another shift at the bar, assuming you still have a job there after you ditched it the other day. With a groan, you pull yourself out from under the warm, soft covers and dress yourself. 
The noise becomes more decipherable as you make your way down the hallway. Ezra and the girl are making small talk while something sizzles. You turn the corner and see Ezra standing at the stove with the girl sitting at the counter, the pleasing aromatic smell of pork bacon wafting through the air. You lean against the wall and watch the pair with a small smile, happy to see someone making use of a space normally reserved for microwave rations and alcohol snuck from the bar.
No one's ever accused you of being a particularly good bartender, that's for sure.
Ezra turns to look at you when he hears your footsteps, a bright smile lighting up his face. 
"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases, and pushes the bacon around with a spatula. "I cannot emphasize enough how divine it was to wake up with a soft cushion beneath me rather than dirt. I could much too easily let myself get used to this, and I think Cee here agrees with me on that account. Don't you, birdie?"
The girl nods, but you don't notice it. The color has drained from your face and you feel a frantic, sinking feeling in your chest.
"What did you say?" you ask, pushing yourself off the wall and looking at Ezra with wide eyes.
He looks back, brow furrowed, confused. "I believe I said that I could get used to this...?"
You turn away from him and look at the girl. She's looking at you too, now, concern evident in her eyes.
"What did he say your name is?"
She blinks. "My name's Cee."
Your hand flies up to your mouth, and you feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes. It can't be. But she's the right age, and her hair's the same, and...
"What was your father's name?"
She looks even more confused now. "Um, it was Damon."
Oh my god. "Oh my god. You're Cee."
The two of them stare at you like you've grown a second head. You laugh, realizing how foolish you look.
And then you give her your name.
Cee's eyes light up like nothing you've ever seen before, and she nearly launches herself off of the counter stool to wrap you in the tightest hug you've ever been given. You laugh again, a loud and boisterous thing, as happy tears spring unbidden and flow onto your cheeks. Her hands grip the back of your shirt as you hold her head to your chest with both hands.
"I never thought I'd see you again," you mutter through the tears, pressing your nose against her hair. It's her. It's really her. Suddenly you think Ezra was right about divine providence, that the three of you were meant to find each other, the event arranged by some mighty cosmic force.
"Dad told me you were dead," she cries, as the two of you collapse to the floor. Propriety suddenly no longer concerns you, not now that you're cradling your long-lost little sister.
"I'm so sorry, Cee. I'm so sorry."
You can't say much more than that. There are simultaneously too many and not enough things to say to the last family you have left in the universe, to this girl who was so much like you even in the first moments of knowing one another. 
Above you, Ezra clears his throat.
"While this is clearly an unexpected but happy reunion that I hate to interrupt, I do have to ask how you girls know one another, so that I might not be kept in the dark about your relation?"
You look up at him as you move backwards to rest your shoulders against the wall. His dark eyes look down at you from above, and though you've never felt so small, you've also never felt happier in your life.
"She's my sister," you answer with a smile. "Same mother, different father. We were separated when our mother died. She was hardly more than a baby."
Ezra's eyes grow soft at that, and he nods. You begin to think that maybe now you both have something to thank the other for. You may have saved his life, but his radio transmission brought you Cee.
You tighten your arms around her, and place a kiss on the crown of her head. You aren't sure how long you sit there - long enough to have surely lost your job when you don't show up for your shift, but you can't find it within yourself to care. This is all that matters to you right now.
-
The day passes with you and Cee doing most of the talking, for once. Ezra seems content to just sit and listen, though you catch him a few times looking at you like he did in the darkened hallway last night.
After lunch, he makes a point to sit next to you on the couch, arm draped across the cushions behind you.
If Cee notices, she doesn't say anything. You still aren't sure where your relationship with Ezra stands, but in the midst of sharing stories with Cee and learning about her life, you don't find time to sort that out.
Dinner comes and goes again, and the topic of the future comes up.
"When do you think you'll be healed enough to travel again, Ezra?" you ask, as the three of you work on cleaning the dishes.
He shrugs. "I'm fit to travel right now," he answers, and you give him a look. No, he isn't. He chuckles. "Alright, sugar. Maybe another day or so. The serum they gave me to apply daily has been working wonders, I must admit."
You nod, and look over at Cee. "Where do you want to go? The Ephrate? I have no doubt you could get into the school there."
She perks up at that. "You think so? Would you bring me?"
"Why not? I'm a traveler anyway, and I think it's high time I got out of this station. Ezra?" You look over to him, but he's already looking at you.
You feel his hand ghost over the small of your back. "I would be most honored to accompany you both to the Ephrate, if you'll have me."
"Yes, of course," you reply, leaning into his touch, and you turn back to the task at hand.
Later on, when Cee is in bed listening to her music, and Ezra's in his room, you sit on your bed thinking about what's to come. In order to apply to the school, Cee will need a guardian contact, and a record of education. You hope she can pass the entrance exam and submit a writing sample, and that that will be enough. Maybe you can talk some of your former professors into considering her.
It’s a pretty long trip from the station to the Ephrate, even with a ship that can travel at hyper speed. You can’t help but wonder what will become of Ezra after you get Cee set up in school. 
The man captivates you, to put it plainly. His poetic manner of speaking and the gentle fire of his passion, when directed at you, gives you a feeling unlike any other you’ve experienced before. You’ve met plenty of men in your life. None have ever made you feel such a way. 
Before you can think better of it, while the desire to see his sleep-ruffled hair still sits at the forefront of your mind, you get out of bed and leave your room. Quietly, so as to not disturb Cee, you knock on his door.
”Come in!” he calls out from somewhere within.
You slide the door open, slip inside, and close the door behind you. Ezra is sitting up in bed, looking at you.
”To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a beautiful woman enter my chamber in the night?” The question is teasing, good-natured, but the compliment still makes your stomach swoop.
You smile, and walk to where he lies in bed, leaning against the dresses. “I wanted to thank you, Ezra. You brought my sister back to me, which is something I’ll never be able to repay you for. Can we call it even?” 
He laughs at that. “Sure we can, sweet thing. You know, when I first saw you in that recovery room, I thought I recognized you from somewhere, and that my brain had done me the disservice of erasing all memory of you. I now realize it was because you and Cee are so much alike. I haven’t known her for much longer than I’ve known you, and it remains a miracle that she has given me even a modicum of trust, but I see the relation between you clear as a bell now.”
You have to smile at that. It warms your heart to know you didn’t imagine it, that someone else noticed it too.
Ezra reaches out then, in the dim light, and you step forward. Thinking he's reaching for your hand, you extend yours - but he bypasses it completely and wraps his hand around the back of your upper thigh, thumb brushing against your sleep shorts. A giggle escapes your lips as he pulls you in even closer to him. Ezra leans forward and presses his face against your midsection, nose just next to your belly button.
Confused, but certainly pleasantly surprised, you place your hands on his head and thread your fingers through his dark curls. Gently you massage his scalp, not quite understanding this sudden show of affection. It's different than last night, though you can't exactly express how. 
You decide you're really enjoying seeing these different sides of Ezra when the two of you are alone.
When you happen to massage a certain spot right behind his ear, Ezra groans, a low sound that ripples through your bones. His grip tightens, and you feel his next words more than you hear them.
"Come here, little one," he murmurs into your stomach, nosing at the hem of your shirt. The pet name makes you clench, desire flooding through your center. 
He pulls you closer, shifting his face away so he can guide you down onto the bed. You swing one leg over his waist just as he slides his hand up to grip your ass, turning you further so you're on your back next to him. He's on his side, propped up by his elbow, leaning over you.
You're breathless, staring up into those infinite brown eyes.
"You have consumed my every waking thought since the moment I first saw you" he says softly, his voice a low purr that awakens some unknown part of yourself. You turn into him, resting a hand on his side, and he presses his nose against your cheek.
"I must have been a saint in a previous life to have earned this sweet embrace," he continues, breath warm against your face. "I want to learn you, to study you with the same vigor the ancients studied and examined the mind. I want to know you, sweet girl, in every way possible.
"But I must be truthful with you, because I could no longer live with myself if I were not. I am not a good man. I have lived a long life of violence and amorality, and death and deceit seem to follow me hand-in-hand. You are so young, little one, full of life and vitality, future bright ahead of you. I do not deserve you, and you certainly deserve better than me."
His words are like needles piercing your heart. You slide your hand up his chest to cup his face, tenderly stroking his cheekbone. You draw him away ever so slightly so you can look him in the eye.
"You and I are not so different, Ezra," you hum, making sure that he keeps the eye contact. "I have been on that same path, of death and violence, for years. I've lived for none but myself."
You slide your thumb across his lower lip, soft and pink and tempting.
"Let me live for you." 
You punctuate your whispered plea by drawing him back down and pressing your lips to his. He gasps into the kiss before returning it with passion amplified twofold. His leg slides over your midsection to stabilize himself, knees pushing in between your own so your thighs stretch open around his.
Ezra deepens the kiss almost immediately. You surrender to his lips, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other tangles again in his hair. His mouth is hot, tasting faintly of mint but mostly a sweet flavor you attribute only to him. You let out a soft moan at the feeling building in your cunt, wet and warm and yearning for him, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Ezra licks at your teeth, seemingly in an attempt to map out every part of you that he can.
All you're able to do is moan, melting into him like a candle to a flame.
You feel Ezra shift a little, followed by profanity muttered softly against your lips. He draws away, and you open your eyes to see him clenching his jaw.
"'M still not fully adjusted to not having a kriffing arm," he grumbles, frustration evident in his eyes. You hum, hurting for him, wanting to take his pain away.
"What do you need, Ezra?" you ask. "What can I do?"
He presses his forehead against yours and sighs. "I want to see you, sweet thing. I want to touch you."
You flush, understanding the meaning of his words and feeling your panties grow wetter at the implication. 
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes." You push at his shoulders, urging him to sit back. He does so, sitting back. You rearrange your legs so that yours rest outside of his, and sit up. Your thighs are tucked against his hips in a position that feels much closer than before - you can just barely feel the heat of his groin against your own. A breath stumbles its way out of your lungs, chest heaving.
Before you can think any further on your insecurities, you grasp the hem of your shirt and draw it up and over your head. Ezra's eyes light up, glance at your face, darken considerably as he looks down again, and then he's on you once more.
His arm wraps around you tightly, hand pressing firmly into your ribs, and it's then that you really take in the size difference between you and him. As his head dips to press his lips against your breasts and nipples, you can't help but shudder at the way his body curls over your own. You feel distinctly small, in a way that would usually frighten you but instead makes you shiver.
This position is clearly more comfortable for Ezra, because he becomes more vocal as he lavishes your tits with attention.
"Gods, little one," he murmurs against the top of one of your breasts, tongue darting out to taste your peaked bud, "your body is divine, the sweetest fruit in the universe." He pauses to suck at your nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and the sight of it forces a whine from your throat. Something about it is so perfect, so perverse, for a man who's always been so sweet, that you can't help but press your clothed cunt down on his cock, the shape of which you can feel burning and hard like an iron through your clothes.
Ezra lets out a choked growl at that, a deep rumbling sound that you immediately commit to memory, in case of the unfortunate event that you're not blessed to ever hear it again. He releases your teat, now spit-soaked and throbbing, and looks at you with eyes so dark you hardly recognize them. His brows are drawn together, teeth bared like a feral animal.
"That's what you do to me," he growls, moving his hand down to cup your ass, squeezing harshly. You gasp, and press into him, bare chest to bare chest. "Feel my dick against your little pussy, baby? Think it can fit?"
You nod frantically, knowing your shorts are soaked through, as his filthy words send your mind reeling. You're not capable of thoughts beyond him and this any longer.
Ezra uses his grip on your ass to press your cunt against him once more, and he rolls his hips up into you in a mimicry of what he'd like to do you. You moan, completely unashamed, and drop your head to tuck your face against his shoulder.
"Please," you whine, nearly unaware of the words coming out of your mouth. It's quiet, hushed, this next utterance, and it's passed through your lips before you can think twice about it.
"Please fuck me, daddy."
Ezra freezes. It takes you a moment too long to realize what you've said.
"What did you say?" Ezra asks, the words rumbling from somewhere in his chest.
You get a frantic feeling in your limbs, panic crawling up your throat. Great, you think, I've messed it all up. He probably thinks I'm some freak, screwed up in the head.
You're broken from your spiraling thoughts by the feeling of his lips on your neck, teeth digging into the space beneath your jawline.
"I asked you a question, sweet girl."
You tremble in his grasp. He's not going to let it go. "Daddy..." you whimper, and he groans.
"You really are a perfect little girl for me," he mutters as his hand slides around from your ass to the front of your shorts. You tighten your grip on the back of his neck and lean forward, thinking he intends to pull your remaining clothes down your legs.
Instead, he clenches his fist and tears them, both your shorts and your panties, from your pussy. You yelp as he does so, and watch as the fabric goes flying somewhere off to the side.
"There you are, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaning back to look at you, hand back in position on your bare ass. "Look at you. Filthy and perfect for daddy, aren't you? A fantasy come to life, placed in my lap by the gods themselves."
You moan once more, pressing your bare cunt against the outline of his cock in his thin sleep pants. He reaches down to pull it free, and as you keep your balance against him, you look down and see perhaps the biggest dick you've ever laid eyes on. Ezra chuckles, watching your reaction.
"You ready, baby? Want me to fill you up, fuck you like you need?"
You nod, and lean in to press your face against the crook of his neck again. "Please," you whine. "I need your big cock in my pussy."
The words are completely unlike you - something about Ezra has awoken a completely submissive, unfiltered side of yourself you didn't know existed before. Sure, you knew you wanted him, and weren't a stranger to sex, but this is an entirely new personality, focused entirely on being his. It's almost like a dream, and for a moment you feel as though you're floating, with how relaxed you are in anticipation for --
Oh.
He's guided the head of his cock to your entrance, and is using his leverage on your ass to guide you slowly, slowly down. You gasp - he's certainly the biggest you've ever had, and the stretch is delicious. Ezra's restraining himself, going slow so he doesn't hurt you, but you have no such qualms.
You drop down in one fell swoop, and the way he fills you makes your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves from your ass to around your waist, nearly encircling it entirely. He groans, loudly and deeply.
"You'll kill me like this, little one. You're just wrapped around my cock, aren't you? Desperate for it?"
You nod frantically. "Yes, daddy. Yes!"
Ezra moans at that. His hand grips your waist, teeth biting and sucking at your neck, as you push up on your thighs to lift off of him. The drag of his dick against the walls of your cunt is incredible, the head of it catching and pushing on hidden, sensitive ridges within you.
You drop down again, and begin to fuck yourself on Ezra's cock.
His hips piston up as you do so, finding and matching your rhythm with ease. His melodic voice mutters the dirtiest things you've ever heard as he slams his hips up into you.
"...That's it, sweet thing. You were made to fit on my cock, weren't you?..."
"...Wanted to do this that night in the hallway, take you right up against the wall..."
"...My strong, sweet girl, bouncing like a whore on daddy’s cock -- gods, look at your tits..."
You feel your climax building, rising like a fire about to consume you from the inside out. Ezra is close, too, from the way his hips stutter and his breathing becomes ragged.
"Sweet thing..." he groans, slowing his thrusts. "I can't... inside you..."
You shake your head. You know he's clean, since he was tested at the med-bay when he went in for the operation. And besides...
"I've got the implant, daddy. Come in me, please."
Ezra finishes with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard, and you come nearly at the same moment. It's an ethereal, heavenly experience, like the two of you have ascended and joined the gods who so graciously brought you together.
You fall asleep tucked into his chest, warm under his blanket, with the smell of him and you and both of you lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you've had in your life.
-
A month later, you and Ezra and Cee sit at a mahogany wood table, filling out a holo-tablet with the form for Cee's entrance into your alma mater on the Ephrate. Your sister is already taken with the place, and you couldn't be happier for her. 
"Now it wants me to put in a parent or guardian's name," she says, stylus hovering over that section. The cursor blinks as it waits.
You're about to tell her to skip it, but Ezra speaks up before you can.
"Put my name down," he offers, and she looks over at him. "Is that okay with you?"
Cee nods, a genuine smile brightening her features. She turns back to the screen with haste.
"Ezra Stallard," he adds simply.
You look over to him, pleased with this revelation. 
As you watch Cee enter Ezra's full name into the blank and select Guardian, you get a chill up your spine. Despite yourself, you think back to that night, and you know Ezra's thinking the same when his hand moves over to rest on your thigh.
You can't wait to have your ship to yourselves; the joy of seeing your sister thrive in a new setting is followed only by the anticipation of what is to come. You and Ezra have made no plans for the future yet - all you know is that he will be with you, and that's the only guarantee you need.
For the first time in a very long time, your heart sings.
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mageofseven · 4 years
Text
The Demon Brothers when Discovering they’re in Love
Spoilers: Mentions the end of the first season of the game in Belphie’s. If you haven’t read that far yet, you’ve been warned.
Lucifer:
Feels rather torn when he comes to this realization.
On one hand, he feels that the object of his affection has become too much of a distraction.
The amount of times he finds himself spacing out while doing paperwork because thoughts of you plague his mind is truly appalling to him
But still, he gets lost in the care that you give him and finds your reliability refreshing.
All the nights he stayed up to get his work done and you came in with some coffee to help him along, sometimes unprompted; it’s like you just know when he needs a little boost. 
You even remember that he likes his coffee with a shot of poison. It’s truly the little things like that where he gets lost in your consideration.
Then there are the nights where even some small part of him realizes that pushed himself too far.
It would have been his fourth consecutive night without sleep if it weren’t for you.
“Luce?”
The man didn’t look up from his paperwork. Instead, he finished signing the document before switching papers and starting to skim through it.
“Thank you, MC. Just set it on the desk.” He said, assuming you had just brought him coffee as usual.
“I’m sorry.” You say as you step in. “That’s not it.”
The Avatar of Pride finally looked up and sighed as he saw your empty hands.
“Then what is it? I’m afraid I have neither the time nor energy to chat right now.”
“That’s the point, Lucifer.” You say, approaching his desk. “You need sleep.”
He scoffed at your words. “I can assure you that I am more than capable of doing my work without a few nights of rest.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t, Lucifer.” You lay your hand on his forearm. “I know you are capable, but still. Please, just sleep.”
He looked up into your eyes and sighed. They held no hint of deceit or trickery. He had grown so used to looking for such signs in people, most commonly in his brothers, but in this moment, he only saw genuine worry in those beautiful orbs.
When was the last time he had seen such? When was the last time someone had shown real concern for him?
The man couldn’t recall.
“Alright.” He relented. “I’ll put the papers away for now, but I expect you to head to bed as well. It’s nearing 3am.”
It was that night, as he laid in bed, that he tried to decipher the feelings within him, floating around in his chest.
When he realized it was love, the man could only shake his head at the thought. After all, he had no time for such feelings, he told himself.
But the more he dismissed them, the stronger they seemed to be within him.
The man even spaced out during a conversation with Diavolo one morning and was mortified with himself.
Obviously, Diavolo was more curious than upset though.
After some pressing from the prince, Lucifer sighed and explained the issue that plagued him.
I don’t think it would be possible for Lord Diavolo to have a bigger grin on his face than he did in that moment.
The prince congratulates his friend on finding someone that inspires such feelings within him and asks about when he’s gonna ask you out.
Lucifer waves away his friend’s words, but the thought stays with him throughout the day.
It would be a lie to say that he doesn’t want to date you, but the man’s pride has always told him that he doesn’t need such a relationship with others, most especially a human.
However, you were no ordinary human. To him, you were special; he could admit that much to himself.
When he finally does ask you out, he’s as calm and collected as he is with anything else
…except for the hint of a blush on his cheeks, seen by only the most observant of people.
This boy is not as in denial about his feelings as you might think.
Mammon:
Mammon recognizes his feelings for you fairly quickly and is pretty honest about it.
At least, he’s pretty honest with himself with the subject, just not with other people.
He knew he had feelings for you since day one. What he should do about them, however, was the questions.
Yeah, he spent a lot of time denying it to his brothers, but that was mostly because he didn’t want you to know until he got himself sorted out. 
That and he didn’t wanna risk his brothers ruining things for him. I mean yeah, he’s had some small crushes, but they never lasted long and none involved feelings this strong.
He just really, really didn’t want to fuck this up.
So he spent a long time keeping his feelings to himself; months easily passing.
Every time he saw you smile or when he heard you speak in defense of him with his brothers, he could feel his face go hot and chest tighten.
You really felt like his human when you did stuff like that. Still, no matter how many times he said it or felt it, it didn’t make it true; not officially at least.
One day, you both were hanging out in his room, studying together.
Well, you were studying. Mammon was just kinda half-assing it. He only agreed to this so he could spend more time with you after all.
Boy was getting all fidgety as he thought…maybe now was a good time to tell you?
You both were alone together, which made things easier. He definitely didn’t want to actually sit here and study either.
Not to mention, if he had to hide his feelings any longer, the poor boy felt as if he’d just burst.
“Oi, MC! I got something to say so you better listen up!”
Your eyes flickered up at him and then back down to your notes, searching for a specific section.
“I’m listening.” You say as you go back to skimming through the page.
Nervous boy looks away from you.
“So…the Great Mammon likes you, alright!” He told you, booming with fake confidence.
“I know.” You tell him, not even looking up from your notebook.
That’s…that’s it? You must not get it. His tone starts to falter.
“I…no! I don’t mean just like!” He leaned in closer to you. “I… I meant I love you!”
You lift your head and smile at him.
“I know.” You tell him before leaning in and kissing his cheek.
The Avatar of Greed’s brain starts to short circuit. Was it really that easy all along?
You laugh at how red his face gets and find it cute. You always had feelings for Mammon and honestly, as much as he tries to be otherwise, he is an open book. Not just you, but everyone knew he had feelings for you. It was just a question of when he would admit it and you had waited patiently for him.
Leviathan:
This boy struggles to even identify the feelings within him for the longest time.
When the feelings do form inside him, he starts becoming a lot more red in the face over the simplest things.
Blushy boy is overwhelmed by basically any compliment you give him.
“Holy–Levi, I was stuck on that level for past month!” You tell him, practically buzzing from excitement. “You’re amazing!”
Levi.exe has stopped working.
It’s not just what you say that makes his brain freeze up. It’s your sweet, excited tone, your smile. The fuzzy feeling in him that tells him he did good. All of it is too much for his brain.
Honestly thinks something is wrong with him when you fixed his tie for him one morning because it was messy and all he could think about for the next ten minutes was the fact that you touched him.
Wait, why did you fix his tie? He always wears it loose like that and you never commented on it before...
Otaku boy is very upset with himself right now.
Tries to avoid you for a while, but after a couple days of this, he heard you asking his brothers if you did something wrong and what you could do to apologize to him.
Poor boy felt bad that he was making you feel guilty when you didn’t even do anything wrong.
Invites you to watch anime with him so you can stop worrying.
He tries his best to act like his usual self with you and honestly, it was pretty easy with him getting so absorbed with the show.
At one point, he had to pause it to rant about something the protagonist just said. 
“I can’t believe it! They completely contradicted part of her character progression from season two! And have the gall to completely ignore that they did it!”
Boy was so annoyed until you stopped him. You pointed out a couple moments from mid-season three and one from season 4 that actually make the protagonist’s words very in character for them.
In the back of his mind, he’s really beating himself up for forgetting that one scene between Tsusaki and Momo
If it had been anyone else or if it was you, but at a different point in your friendship, he honestly would be livid to hear you make such a contradiction.
Levi has bonded with you for so long at this point though that he’s just impressed with your memory and character analysis ability.
I mean, he shouldn’t expect anything less from his Henry, but still, the boy is still loving this.
He’s found someone that not only enjoys the same nerdy stuff that he likes, but can actually have discussions about at the same level. You understand him just like you understand the anime on the screen and it’s characters.
At some point, he kinda got lost in his thoughts about you, checking out in favor of such thoughts instead of your words.
A smile slowly formed on his face as he thought about just how great it was that he found you. Or like, that you came to him, I guess.
He got so lost in all the good things about your friendship that he didn’t even realize at first when his thoughts were becoming words off his lips and had no time to censor himself.
“Man, this is great. This is why I love you.”
Silence.
Levi started panicking, realizing what he just said.
You sat in your seat, confused and a bit flustered.
After all, he interrupted you mid-sentence to blurt that out.
“Gaaah, I didn’t mean that!” He shouted. “Okay, maybe I did; I don’t really know, I just–aaaah I’m such a stupid, no-good–”
His words are stopped by your kiss. It only lasted for a second though because the boy quickly bounced back and covered his mouth with his hand.
You give a small chuckle at his reaction.
“Don’t worry so much.” You tell him. “I’m glad you told me.”
“H…Huh??”
“I…” You blush. “I actually have feelings for you too. I’m glad you said something first or I would have never been able to do… that.”
Levi is stuck wondering what the heck just happened, but as he starts to settle down, he decides he doesn’t really care; he likes how things have ended up.
Satan:
Is another brother that is not really good with his emotions.
Instead of panicking or getting overwhelmed with this new feeling inside of him though, he faces it with calm curiosity instead.
It’s hard for him to fully understand any emotion that is not anger, but he’s always trying to expand his knowledge on such things.
So when he starts noticing how small things you do cause his heart to race or a blush creep onto his cheeks, he’s not shying away; on the contrary, he seeks you out even more, wanting to spend time with you so he can analyze these feelings as they come.
He starts asking if you need some help studying more often since the answer is almost always yes. Study sessions with Satan are always very productive.
He starts lending books out to you even when you don’t ask. He brings you books that made him think of you as he read them, but doesn’t tell you that and presents them as a simple recommendation.
Always feels a sense of satisfaction when you accept them and come to his room later on to discuss them.
Starts reading more books on interactions between people to understand his seemingly strong awareness of you.
Like, why your finger tips brushing his when he hands you something or your shoulder touching his when you both read next to each other just sends an an almost electrifying feeling within him or when even the softest expressions on your face can make him smile.
Starts with mainly nonfiction books and slowly finds himself searching within the realm of fiction as well.
Despite what some people might think, he doesn’t really read fiction books much. When he does, it’s usually horror stories or the occasional sci-fi story (he finds how human picture the future to be fascinating, but also a bit silly).
He has very little experience with romance novels; he finds them to be pretty repetitive and predictable.
Still decides to read some since they do in fact focus on interactions between two people.
Finds that a lot of his experiences are mentioned in these books.
….he also finds his mind imagining similar situations with you.
This is…not the answer he thought he would get. ‘Love’.
So it was love that he felt for you? He honestly never gave any thought to loving someone in this way before. It simply was never a priority of his
But if that is truly what he is feeling…he wants to feel it to its full extent like the characters in his books.
Isn’t actually all that nervous when he decides to tell you. Like always, curiosity leads him through.
Not to say that he wouldn’t be hurt if you rejected him; merely that he wastes no energy worrying about such an outcome.
The day he decided tell you about this conclusion, you were sitting with him on his bed, backs against the wall, reading books.
He heard a little gasp to his right and glanced over to see you staring at your book, eyes wide, and whispering things to the page.
‘Oh my god’, ‘Why would you do that?’, and ‘Nonononononono’ were just some of the words you spoke into your book.
Satan chuckled, finding he scene to be cute.
You let out a groan, mildly annoyed with him.
“It’s not funny.” You whined. “He just walked away from her. Walked away! Right when she tried to kiss him! I can’t believe this!”
“Oh really?”
“Yes really! He–”
The blonde cut you off with a kiss, brief, but a bit fervent.
As soon he pulled away, you dropped your book and covered your red face. He quietly picked up your book and read the page that originally upset you.
“This is the same story I read yesterday.” He told you, hiding his own red cheeks within the pages. “The one that made me realize I wanted to kiss you.”
You lowered your hands and stared at the blonde, eyes wide.
“R-Really?”
“Yes.” He lowered the book to look you in your eyes. “Our protagonist may have failed you, but I’d like think that I just came through for you where he did not. Am I wrong?”
“N..No.” You mumbled, eyes darting away from him and to a stack of books. After a moment, you added. “C-Can you do that again?”
Satan chuckled softly and took his chin in his hand, guiding her face to look at him. He stared into your eyes for a minute with a teasing smile before doing just as he was asked.
The boy never actually said the words like he planned to, but it was obvious that his meaning got across to you.
Asmodeus:
As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo is no stranger to feelings.
He had so many crushes during his time in the Devildom that he probably couldn’t even count them all.
They were always simple feelings though, flights of fancy that came and went, holding no real long term significance to him.
Don’t get him wrong; he finds a lot of fun/cute/sexy/beautiful people that he enjoys spending time with, but he sees them all as just temporary beings, coming in and out of his life without a second thought.
It’s still new for him to develop strong feelings for a person to the point that he actually thinks 'I never want them to leave’.
But with you, he does just that. Doesn’t realize he feels that strongly for you till you actually leave though.
It wasn’t anything unpredictable; the school year had simply ended. Everyone knew it was coming, but Asmo gave it almost no thought till it was here. 
Your absence hit him harder than he let any of his brothers know. Still, he did he did usual activities; shopping, partying, spa days (though he noticed that he needed those more often than before).
He called you as often as he could. Would have probably spammed you with texts and calls if Lucifer hadn’t set a limit on all the brothers with when they can talk to you.
There really wasn’t an ‘Aha!’ moment for him discovering that he loved you. The question for him wasn’t if he loved you; it was more like how much he loved you that he questioned.
After dealing with your absence, he got his answer: a lot.
When you finally came back for another year at RAD, the boy was ecstatic. 
Immediately jumps into hugging you, giving you little kisses on the cheek, and coming up with different reasons to keep you close.
Really clingy, but in a cute way.
Boy drops the ‘love’ word on you like it’s nothing.
Absolutely adores your blushy face after.
Is nothing but smiles when you said it back to him and wasn’t worried about it all.
I mean it is him we are talking about so of course you love him back.
Beelzebub:
Is slightly slow with the realization, but not the slowest of the brothers.
There was kinda already signs floating around about his feelings before he even knew it.
The other brothers suspected it, but unlike with Mammon, they just kinda left the big boy to handle it on his own and didn’t tease him about it.
Though he’s commonly helping all his brothers out with one thing or another, without even realizing it, he started treating you with the same level of care he usually only gives to Belphie.
He shares his foods with you and is always checking on you to make sure you feel okay (physically and emotional). Sweet boy knows how stressful it can be in House of Lamentation with all the arguing and his brothers’ shenanigans so he tries to makes sure it doesn’t bring you down.
He even once carried you to bed after you fell asleep on the couch after school. He felt bad you were so worn out from the day and didn’t want you to wake up with a sore neck from sleeping wrong on the couch.
Then there was one day when he managed to make you laugh--not on purpose, mind you, and the poor boy is still confused about what he did to this day, but the sound of your laugh filled with his cheeks red and the sweet boy couldn’t help smiling at it.
But once the moment ended and your laugh was gone, all Beel could think about was wanting to hear it again. He really wished he knew what he did the first time so he could replicate it.
He started asking around with his brothers about the moment that made him feel so warm inside and why he couldn’t stop thinking about you or that moment. They all waved him off with small smiles, telling him that he’ll figure it out on his own. Except for one.
Asmo was way to excited to follow the other brothers’ lead.
“That’s because you love her, silly!” He grinned at the redhead. “Now! When are you asking them out? I’ve been waiting foreeever to give you dating advice!”
Cue Beel’s brain buffering. And buffering. And buffering.
Ding.
Wait..love?
The boy smiled a sweet smile and walked away from his brother mid-sentence.
He kept walking till he found you in your room working on homework.
You lifted you head and smiled at him, mid-greeting when he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You blinked in confusion, but hugged back.
“What’s this about?” You laugh from in his arms and the good boy loved the sound of it. In fact...
“I love you.” He said, smiling down at you.
It was a cute albeit random and unexpected moment for you, but also one of your favorite memories with him.
Belphegor:
Belphie was surprisingly quick with discovering his feelings for you.
He knew it was love, but tried pushing the feeling down inside of himself out of guilt.
Yes, you forgave him for using and killing you, but the boy hadn’t forgiven himself for doing it, which made his feelings for you just hurt him worse.
Sleepy boy tries his best to take care of you to make up for it, but feels like it’s not enough.
He’s always the first person to realize when you’re starting to stress out and pulls you to him for nap. Naps always help him take a break from stress and various other emotions that he doesn’t want to deal with and knew it’d probably help you too.
Nap buddy. That’s what you’d call him, causing him to blush and turn away from you.
With the poor boy feeling so complicated, it was actually you who confessed your feelings to him instead.
It was during one of your nap sessions, unsurprisingly. Belphie just stared at you, eyes wide in disbelief, before switching to a glare.
“You stupid--how can you say that after what I did to you?”
“Belphie...that’s in the past and you’re different now.” You tell him. “I love the person that lays next to me; he’s different than the man who killed me.”
Oh Lord Diavolo, the way your human mind works is so ridiculous to him.
Ends up rejecting you and finds a new place to take a nap. His anger quickly turns to sadness as he falls asleep.
Feels awful the next few days. He didn’t mean to hurt you; he just wants you to understand that he doesn’t deserve you after what happened.
Eventually approaches you to explain himself, hoping you’ll understand and let go of your feelings for him.
Instead, you launch into trying to reassure him that it’s not like that and regardless of what happened in the past, your feelings still stand.
He still thinks you’re idiot and tells you as much...but admits that he feels the same.
During the first two weeks of your relationship, the boy is surprisingly tense, but eventually accepts where you both have ended up and just lets himself enjoy it.
~
Masterlist
549 notes · View notes
wintervvidow · 3 years
Text
apricity pt. three
apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter
warnings: angst, vomit mention, violence
pairing: bucky barnes x female oc
word count: 4,200
A/N: this is a bit of a filler chapter yet still very important! I did have to use google translate for the Russian, so if it is incorrect, please let me know and I'm very sorry if it is! Thank you 💕
MASTERLIST
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“Я готов отвечить.” ( Ready to comply.)
The December air was cold as it blew through Florence’s hair, her arms circling Bucky’s waist as they rode down the dark road on Bucky’s motorcycle. The soldier steered with one arm, free hand coming down to rub circles on the redhead’s calf as they pulled behind a cluster of trees, hiding them from onlookers as they waited. The pair of assassins were unthawed and reset only hours ago, immediately given their latest mission.
A car came into view, red tail lights illuminating the air around them. Bucky flipped the bike’s headlight on and pulled onto the road again. The soldier revved the bike, catching up to the side of the vehicle as Florence sunk her butterfly knife into the tire, causing the car to swerve off the road and crash into a building.
Bucky parked the bike ahead of the crash, Florence stepping off the bike, Bucky behind her, and approaching the car. She flipped open the trunk to reveal a large silver briefcase, opening it to see five bags of blue liquid; exactly what they were looking for.
This was the last mission the Winter Soldier and the Winter Widow would ever go on.
Florence bolted up in the cheap hotel bed, Bucky’s screams reverbing in her brain. HYDRA always made her watch when Bucky was reprogrammed, a way to keep Florence in line and remind her who she was; just a puppet.
The last mission was always a common nightmare in the rotation of dreams Florence had, continuously taunting her. She disappeared only two weeks after it, abandoning everything she had grown accustomed to and the only person she had ever loved.
Florence couldn't go back to sleep, instead deciding on making herself coffee, the microwave clock mocking her, 4:34 a.m. She sipped her coffee slowly at the small kitchenette table, patiently waiting to start her day as she watched the clock tick away until it became 6:30 a.m., a reasonable enough hour to be awake for Steve to not worry.
~
The team was in Lagos, following a lead on Brock Rumlow, who had been causing quite the headache in the past few months, this time his target was deadly weapons from the Institute For Infectious Diseases.
Florence and Natasha sat across from each other listening to Steve and Wanda Maximoff converse about their surroundings through their earpieces, doing their best to remain anonymous and still get the intel under the hot noon sun.
“You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?” Steve asked Wanda as she fiddled with the sugar packet in her hand.
“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute.”
“It’s also bulletproof, which means private security, which means more guns...which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.” Florence smirked at Natasha’s response as she took a sip of her coffee, savoring the caffeine.
Wanda chirped back through her radio, ‘You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?”
Florence glanced at Wanda across the cafe, “Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.”
Sam’s voice floated through their earpieces from the rooftop above, “Anybody ever told you two you’re a little paranoid?”
The two redheads shared a knowing look with small smirks adorning their faces, “Not to either of our faces. Why? Did you hear something?” Florence’s tone was light, but both she and Natasha knew the darkness behind it; the Red Room made them that way.
Steve, ever the serious man, refocused the small group, “Eyes on target, folks. This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”
Sam scoffed in the mic, “If he sees us coming, that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.”
There was a pause in time before Steve spoke, “Sam, see that garbage truck? Tag it.” Sam deployed Redwing, giving Sam and the team the information they needed, “That truck’s loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed.”
Natasha glanced at Florence, the pair not too thrilled to be dealing with this particular situation, “It’s a battering ram.”
“Go now.”
Wanda questioned Steve into her mic, the tension had just risen significantly.
“He’s not hitting the police.”
The team scattered, Steve, Wanda, and Sam going after Rumlow while Florence and Natasha were both on motorcycles racing down the street.
“Rumlow has a biological weapon.”
Natasha revved her bike, “I’m on it.” The redhead purposely crashed her bike, flinging it into an armed guard. Florence ditched her bike, joining Natasha in the fight.
A guard swung at Florence, missing his target as she ducked and swept his feet from underneath the attacker. Natasha took down two more guards while Florence took down three more, tossing the last guard on the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Florence and Natasha were attacked by Rumlow, neither of the two women able to effectively take him down. The two were shoved into a tank, Rumlow dropping a bomb in before latching the door closed. They surveyed their surroundings quickly; two guards with guns aiming at them. Florence kicked one unconscious while Natasha grabbed the other guard and used him as a human shield when the grenade exploded, grabbing Florence on the way down.
Black smoke filled the air, the smell of fire making it hard to breathe, sending the pair of assassins into a coughing fit on the ground. Looking up, they could see Steve being blown back into the building by an explosion, their ears ringing from the volume. Steve sent Sam after Rumlow, who was in an AFV heading north.
Natasha relocated the ditched bike and got on, pulling Florence behind her. The younger assassin revved the bike as they entered the street, Florence holding onto her.
Sam called out the offenders, clocking four of them splitting up.
Natasha stopped the bike and looked at Florence before splitting up, “I got the two on the left, you take the right.”
Florence sprinted down the busy street, dodging and weaving the crowd. Her targets came into view ahead of her, the girl sent a throwing star their way, effectively knocking him to the ground with no way to run. The girl grabbed the man, searching the bag furiously, trying to locate the weapon, “It’s not here!” Sam replied back, not having the weapon either.
Natasha called over the mic, “I have it.” Florence sighed in relief, moving to meet back up with the team.
She came upon Steve, who had Rumlow on the ground in front of him. She approached the scene cautiously, listening to the exchange.
“You know, he knew you and that redhead, Florence. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.” Rumlow whispered tauntingly at Steve.
Florence approached from behind, grabbing Rumlow’s hair and yanking him back, putting a knife to his throat, “What did you say?” The flip switched in Florence’s brain at the mention of Bucky, nothing else mattering anymore. She didn’t care that people were probably filming her with a knife to someone’s throat, and Steve made no move to stop her.
The disfigured man laughed as the knife dug deeper against his neck, staring up at Florence, “He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it. Always screaming about you.” He then looked at Steve, “Till they put his brain back in a blender. He wanted you to know something. He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers. When you gotta go, you gotta go.’ And you’re coming with me.” Rumlow’s thumb pressed a detonation device, Florence and Steve noticing it at the same time.
Wanda was behind them, containing the explosion of fire with her powers, keeping Steve and Florence from becoming red mist. The newest member sent Rumlow up and into the building in front of them. The building went up in flames, the leftover gasses from Rumlow’s bombs reacting to the fire and exploding. The bystanders screamed and ran as Wanda looked on in horror at what she had just done, hand clamping over her face.
Florence gently guided the girl away from the scene, “Hey, come one. We have to go, this isn’t on you, okay?”
Behind them, Steve called for Sam to request Fire & Rescue before he took off to go save people from the building, leaving Florence to console the distraught brunette.
A month later, the team was back at the Avengers Compound, Florence sitting with Steve as they watched the news.
“Eleven Wakandans were among those killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria last month. The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos, when the attack occurred.”
The TV switched to show King T’Chacka of Wakanda’s speech:
“Our people’s blood is spilled on foreign soil, not only because of the actions of criminals, ut by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent is no victory at all.”
Steve turned the TV off, the only other sound in the compound coming from Wanda’s TV in her room. Florence got up to go speak to the girl before Steve stopped her, “I’ll go.” Steve and Wanda were taking the Lagos incident the hardest, both blaming themselves. The mention of Bucky had made both Florence and Steve freeze until it was too late, leaving Wanda to deal with the bomb that now plagues her consciousness. Florence watched as Steve walked off until he wasn’t visible anymore for her to turn on her heel to head to the kitchen.
The redhead was in dire need of coffee, the cup she had that morning had worn off. The nightmares amplified after Rumlow’s supposed confession about Bucky, the girl had hardly slept more than two hours a night. When she did sleep it was restless, nightmares of Bucky haunting every corner of her mind. She managed to make it through half her mug before she was called downstairs for a meeting with Tony and the Secretary of State.
Secretary Ross sighed heavily as he stood at the head of the table of Avengers as he mimicked his golf swing, “Five years ago, I had a heart attack and dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turned out it was the best round of my life because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me. Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives, but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.”
Next to Florence, Natasha spoke with a smirk adorning her face, “What word would you use, Mr. Secretary?”
Secretary Ross looked up from the table, “How about ‘dangerous’? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”
Ross stepped aside from the table, allowing the full view to be on the screen in front of the table, showing various clips of incidents the Avengers were involved in. Everyone at the table grimaced at the screen, not proud of what it was showing. Ross flipped through events of New York, Washington D.C., Sokavia and Lagos before Steve had enough, noting Wanda’s demeanor change and telling Ross to turn it off.
“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” Ross paused, placing a large file on the table in front of Wanda who passed it on to Rhodey, “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries, it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”
Steve spoke from the end of the table, “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that.”
Ross looked down at Steve, “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now? If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes, you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”
Rhodey gestured to the accords “So, there are contingencies.”
Ross shrugged, “Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.”
Ross began to leave until Natasha stopped him, “And if we come to a decision you don’t like?”
“Then you retire.” Ross left after that, leaving the team to discuss.
The team was arguing amongst themselves as Florence stared at the ceiling with her feet on the table, listening to various points being made while Rhodey and Sam debated behind Steve while Tony rolled his eyes.
“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.”
Sam crossed his arms over his chest, “So let’s say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”
“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No, that’s cool. We got it.’”
Sam cut Rhodey off, “How long are you going to play both sides?”
Vision interrupted from his spot on the couch next to Wanda, “I have an equation.”
Sam moved to stand behind Florence, his voice dripping in sarcasm, “Oh, this will clear it up.”
Vision continued, “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”
“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve spoke with the Accords in hand.
“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invited challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict,” Vision paused, “breeds catastrophe. Oversight, oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”
Rhodey looked to Sam, “Boom.”
Natasha spoke from her spot at the table, “Tony, you are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.” Tony rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.
“It’s because he’s already made up his mind.”
Tony grumbled at Steve’s statement, “Boy, you know me so well.” Tony rose from the couch, cradling his head as he walked over to the kitchen, “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache. That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” Tony grabbed a coffee mug, looking into the sink, “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal?”
Natasha looked at Florence with a knowing look about her coffee-sleep- problem while Tony continued complaining behind them, “Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”
Tony placed his phone in the fruit basket, a small hologram emitting from it of a young man, “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor-level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk, See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where. Sokovia.” Tony paused, allowing the words to sink in painfully, “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. We won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass. There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”
Steve began speaking, “Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up.”
“Who said we’re giving up?”
“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”
Rhodey speaks up, pointing at Steve, “I’m sorry, Steve. This is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s not HYDRA.”
Florence practically flinched at Rhodey’s mention of HYDRA as Steve cut him off, “No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”
Tony walked towards the group, “That’s good. That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”
Steve interrupted, “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” The team all shared looks, silently gauging their stances.
Tony looked down at Steve, “If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty.”
Wanda, who had been silent the entire meeting, spoke from her seat next to Vision, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”
Vision spoke beside her, “We would protect you.”
“Maybe Tony’s right,” All eyes darted to Natasha, “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-”
Sam cut her off, “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?”
“I’m just reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.” Florence was slightly shocked at Natasha’s statement. She had assumed that she wouldn’t be signing, not wanting to walk back into a potential puppet situation.
Tony leaned against his chair, looking at Natasha baffled, “Focus up. I’m sorry. Did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?”
Natasha shook her head, “I want to take it back now.”
“No, no, no, you can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay. Case closed. I win.”
Florence noticed Steve’s phone buzzing, watching his face fall as he read the notification, “I have to go.” The team watched as Steve bolted out of the room.
Days later, Florence was seated between Steve and Sam as they attended Peggy Carter’s funeral in London. The girl was never close to Peggy in the ’40s, she only spoke to her briefly, but Florence knew Steve would need support. The trio watched from the pew as Sharon Carter, Peggy’s niece and an ex S.H.I.E.L.D agent, spoke about her aunt. Sharon had grown to be a friend and an ally to the team, helping them out during the Battle of Triskelion.
The funeral ended quickly, Florence standing outside with Sam while Steve remained in the chapel. A familiar redhead passed by, Florence grabbing Natasha’s arm gently, “Nat? What are you doing here?”
“I came to see Steve, then I’m off to Vienna to sign the Accords.”
Florence furrowed her brows, “You’re signing it? Who else signed?”
Natasha shrugged, “Yeah, it’s what seems right. Tony, Rhodey and Vision have signed. Clint says he’s retired and Wanda is TBD. You?”
“I can’t.” Florence wanted to but was immensely torn. She didn’t see a way to function properly under the Accords, and her best bet was to not sign, much to Natasha’s dismay. Florence remained paranoid after the Red Room and HYDRA, even more so than the redhead in front of her. She wanted it to be easy, to sign the Accords without any second thoughts, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Natasha smiled softly at her friend, “I figured. But there’s room on the jet if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, Nat, but I’ll pass. Go see Steve.” The two girls hugged briefly, Natasha pulling away and entering the chapel.
Hours later, both Sam and Florence’s phone vibrated, alerting a notification, the pair taking out their devices and reading ‘UNITED NATIONS COMPLEX BOMBED’
The two looked up from their phones in fear, immediately on the hunt to find Steve.
They found him in the lobby of Sharon’s hotel, having walked her back after Natasha left hours ago. Sam stopped in front of him, “Steve, there’s something you need to see.”
The trio stood in front of the TV of their shared hotel room as the news anchor spoke, “A bomb hidden in news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna.”
Sharon paced behind them while she was on the phone.
“More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect, who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”
The screen played a clip of the alleged suspect, Bucky, and Florence felt like she was going to be sick. Her stomach dropped and she could feel Sam’s gaze on her. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be him.
Sharon interrupted Steve and Florence’s internal spiral, “I have to go to work.”
Florence remained in front of the TV, trying to talk herself out of believing that Bucky would do this. He would have been acting alone. He wouldn’t have done this, this wasn’t the man she knew. She knew he was out of HYDRA’s clutches and was on his own, it couldn’t be him.
Steve grabbed her wrist gently, turning her away from the TV, “We have to go to Vienna, come on.”
Florence and Steve made it to Vienna along with Sam, both leaning against a tree with hats and sunglasses in an attempt to remain unknown. Steve pulled out his phone, dialing Natasha’s number. Florence ignored their conversation as she stared emotionless at the ground. The air was still heavy with smoke from the bombing as Steve spotted Natasha a few yards away, her ignorant to the fact that Steve and Florence were here.
After Steve hung up, Florence’s phone began to ring, Natasha’s contact lighting up the screen. She shared a look with Steve before answering, “Hey.”
Natasha wasted no time getting to the point, “Look, I know how much Barnes means to you, trust me I get it, but don’t do anything stupid. You need to stay home and regroup.”
Florence sighed into the phone, “Nat, you know I can’t do that.” Florence ended the call before Natasha could respond, quickly pocketing the phone in her black jacket and walking away.
Florence and Steve entered a restaurant, quickly spotting Sam at the bar.
Sam placed his food down, “She tell you to stay out of it?” Steve and Florence’s silence was answer enough for Sam, “Might have a point.”
Steve pursed his lips, “He’d do it for me.”
“1945, maybe.” Florence glared at Sam through her glasses as he continued speaking, “I just want to make sure we consider all our options. The people that shoot at you two usually end up shooting at me.”
Sam didn’t know him. Steve didn’t know the ‘new’ him. Out of the two, she had known Bucky the longest, loving him through the good and the bad. Even when he was the darkest parts of the Winter Soldier, Florence still held love for him in her heart because she knew what HYDRA made him into. And when Florence’s reflection was unfamiliar to herself, whether she was covered in someone else’s blood or she had been reprogrammed, Bucky kept her from falling apart in the Red Room. It couldn’t be him.
Sharon made her way up the bar, standing next to Steve as she updated the group, “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of its noise.” Sharon slid a file over to Steve, “Except for this. My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that’s all the head start you’re gonna get.”
Florence thanked Sharon as she left to leave, “You’re all gonna have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight.” Again, the feeling of bile worked its way up Florence’s throat, forcing herself to choke it down. Her hands shook at her sides as she took in Sharon’s words. She wouldn’t let that happen, even if it ended up killing her. She was going to save him.
Steve read over the file quickly, Sam and Florence looking at him expectantly, ”He’s in Romania.”
The location shouldn’t have shocked Florence as much as it did. A lot happened in Romania between herself and Bucky, she shouldn’t be surprised he went there. He probably didn’t even realize why he went to Bucharest, the action must have felt familiar. She should have began their search there two years ago, Florence was angry with herself for missing such an important place to them both. And God, did Romania have painful roots in the soldiers’ and widows’ lives.
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ckneal · 3 years
Text
About a month ago, I had a fairly random revelation that Lilith was to Lucifer what Adam was to Michael. Not in the sense that she was ever his vessel, as all humans capable of serving that role are purportedly descended from Adam and Eve, and, while it’s never specifically confirmed to be true for the Supernatural universe, most lore surrounding Lilith sets her up as being too old for that.
And I also don’t necessarily mean that Lucifer and Lilith were in love—Lucifer is too egotistical and arrogant for me, personally, to believe he’s capable of a true romantic bond, and it is twice stated that he lost his virginity to Kelly Kline, in settings that leant themselves toward his credibility on this subject (musing aloud to an uncomprehending Kelly in the privacy of their bedroom, and awkwardly grappling for something to say in his first unplanned meeting with Jack, respectively)—leading me to believe that the recognizable sleazy substitute for love (lust) was not present between these two either. But, I do think that there was a connection there, and I do find myself curious about it.
After all, Lilith was willing to die to set Lucifer free from the cage. And yes, I am aware that she had made a deal with Michael to help set off the apocalypse, and she was obligated to carry out her part, but has anyone ever wondered what exactly Lilith got out of the bargain? She’s not exactly written like Eve, from season 6. She is not mothering toward demonkind. I can’t see her sharing Michael’s motivation to bring God back. The one who stood to benefit from her sacrifice, was, in fact, Lucifer. (And Michael, obviously.)
I think that the bond Lilith and Lucifer formed was a bit similar to what Adam and Michael had, in that it came from a lack of choice. I firmly believe that Lilith and Lucifer spent a decent amount of time together in Hell, just the two of them. Likely for a much longer period of time than Michael and Adam did in the cage. We don’t know exactly when Lucifer made Lilith, but we do know that he was out and moving around for awhile after the apple incident that Gadreel was incarcerated for—after all, Cain was a grown man when he caught Lucifer circling Abel and agreed to take the Mark. And bible ages are a little strange, but let’s say that that’s a good couple of decades in earth time. That’s much longer in Hell. Assuming that Lilith was turned prior to Cain, that’s a long time with Lucifer and Lilith being the only two occupants of Hell. (Well, except for Ramsey and her hellpuppies; remember she was pregnant when Lucifer saved her from extinction.)
And I wonder if in that time, the two of them could have developed a begrudging sort of friendship? Just from the forced proximity—Michael was clearly capable of decimating Lilith on sight if she went back to earth, and there weren’t exactly a lot of humans wondering around that early on in the species to provide her with cover—not to mention a meatsuit. She was pretty much stuck there, while Lucifer was presumably laying low, while he got his schemes together. Setting up the horsemen, binding Death, somehow getting and hiding the demon tablet, creating the Princes of Hell, and such. . .Just a lot of stuff, and where he used to have a vast multitude of siblings to talk to, he now just had this snarky little corrupted human soul, and I think—I think—they became friends.
And Lucifer considers this to be the filthiest thing that he’s ever done—on par with the most torrid, disgusting affair that anyone has ever had, and he still hates everything about it to this day. That’s why Lucifer never once talks about Lilith. He is nauseated by the fact that they were the original frenemies, completely disgusted and powerless to resist their intense conversational chemistry, and if they saw each other tomorrow there’s a tiny part of him that will still light up because no one has ever been more thoroughly on his level.
And it’s fucking mutual. If they saw each other tomorrow, they would exchange the most vehement of insults, maybe even physically attack one another, shouting their hatred at full volume—and then a few hours later be spotted at a coffee shop, passionately talking trash on Sam Winchester, and set terrible, terrible plans in motion that will plague Sammy’s life for the next several years. When they part ways, they would both feel intensely dirty, telling themselves that this will never happen again—but Lucifer has never been one to resist temptation, and at 3am finds himself sending that text message he knows he’ll regret later. . . “So what are your thoughts on Dean? ;)” And off they go again, all night long.
And that’s why Lilith was willing to lay down her life to set Lucifer free. And it’s also why she had her moment of doubt, when she nearly got Sam to agree to that demon deal. She had a moment of realizing that she was about to die for an asshole she doesn’t even like.
I personally like to think that Michael was the archangel who nearly came blasting in to defend Chuck that night, when Dean pulled the plug on the deal Sam was about to make (and before you try to tell me that wasn’t a real deal because Lilith was planning a trap—rewatch that scene, Sam was the one who played dirty by reaching for the demon-killing knife; Lilith was busy eyeing his crotch through his jeans and feeling up his chest). After Lilith smoked out of her meatsuit, I like to think that Michael followed her and gave a kind of prep talk, telling her that it’s important that they remember their motivations, shameful though they might be
At which point, Lilith just bursts into tears, crying, “Oh god, you’re right. . .He’s my best friend—how did this happen? How did this—Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m going to be sick!”
Lilith sobs into Michael’s wings, while Michael is just sort of stuck standing there, because Lilith is gripping one of his four heads with both hands as she cries, while the other three are looking around for help, intensely confused because he, of course, was talking about bringing God back, and now he has no idea what to do to get out of this uncomfortable social situation that he does not understand.
And thinking about Lucifer and Lilith and Michael and Adam as parallels, it gets me asking these questions about how things would go if the roles were reversed. Would Adam willing lay down his life to free Michael from the cage? As a fanfiction writer, I enjoy the idea of saying yes.
In fact, I’m a little enamored with the idea of a parallel world where everything is flipped. Where it’s Michael in the box, and Adam running around breaking seals, Adam on that final, fateful night—after having had his moment of doubt in which he’d lured Ramiel into a secluded spot and offered to stand down and nearly banged Ramiel’s brains out in the bargain—but that’s all past, and now he’s firm in his resolve. Adam standing in front of a mirror—but instead of the white gown that Lilith wore, Adam’s in a black suit, dressed as if it were his wedding day, though he’ll never see his groom. And Raphael appearing at his elbow, looking concerned—instead of some random follower of Lilith’s, and Adam telling Raphael to be happy. Everything is going to be okay.
And it’s Adam reclining against the alter, all serene anticipation as Ramiel—the second Prince of Hell, who rejected his place in the succession because all he wanted was to live out a quiet life with his fishing gear, well away from the Pit and the Life—comes storming into the church with Zachariah at his side, assuring Ramiel that he’s trained for this, he can do it—only to have Azazel come bursting in behind them, shouting, “NO, RAMMY! IT’S WHAT HE WANTS!”
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imjustwritingg · 3 years
Text
you can hear it in the silence
This takes place after Jay gets shot and the hospital scene in season 7, loosely based on the song “You Are In Love” by Taylor Swift. I’ve had this stored away half-finished for quite a while and put a crazy spin on it after seeing a prompt on Twitter. It also seems pretty fitting that I finished this specific one on the same day that JLS’s interview came out where he politely disregarded Linstead and said Upstead rights. Enjoy and let me know what you think. 💜
Also here: AO3 & FanFic.Net
cause you can hear in the silence
you can feel it on the way home
you can see it with the lights out
you are in love, true love
you're in love
XXX
“I can’t figure him out. He’s the first one through the door, a war vet, and he’d rather take a bullet than get the flu shot.”
“It’s hard because you love him.”
“When you were in surgery, no one knew what was going to happen and it made me realize I wanted to tell you something.”
“What were you gonna say?”
Hailey has replayed those moments from the hospital every day in her head since they first happened. Vanessa had straight up called the blonde out on her feelings, that it wasn’t just about her partner, Jay Halstead, but everything else he had become over the last few years of he and Hailey working together. A trusted confidant. Her best friend. Someone she could depend on endlessly. The man she had fallen for without even realizing she was falling in the first place.
When Jay had been given the all-clear to go home Hailey had somehow found the courage to finally tell him about her feelings for him. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something else were to happen and she never got the chance to tell him the truth about how she really felt towards him. Her heart always seemed to ache in that way where she could barely breathe around him and she wanted nothing more than to admit her feelings and hope for the best.
The words had been there right on the tip of her tongue, but with one ring of his undercover phone she was pulled back to reality. The walls shot up around her heart again, made her second guess everything up to that point, and she retreated back into herself as if it were some twisted sign from the universe screaming at her, “no, don’t do it!”
Could she really tell him the truth? And should she? Or would it ruin their friendship and the partnership they’d nearly perfected over the time spent working together? She just wasn’t sure. All of these questions plagued her mind since that day, but she knew she couldn’t voice them out loud. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
XXX
Jay had returned to work a week after his release from the hospital, but he remained on strict desk duty. He was itching to get back out into the field, but Voight had made it clear that, that wasn’t happening until the sling was off his shoulder and he got explicit written permission from his doctor. So, he stayed in the bullpen, pushing paperwork and helping to find leads for his team however he could.
When he saw his partner and Burgess at Platt’s desk that night after his first shift back, he couldn’t help the pride he felt inside of him knowing what Hailey had done to capture the perp.
“I heard you made a nice disarm,” he says while looking at Hailey.
Her face immediately breaks out into a shy smile. “Oh man. You want details?”
“Yeah, I’m losing my mind,” he tells her.
“After six days?” Kim teases.
“After six minutes,” Jay emphasizes with a slight shake of his head.
Before the three of them can make a quick escape from the district, Platt calls out to Kim making her hang back. She says a quick goodbye to the duo, leaving Hailey and Jay to themselves. Hailey looks at her partner and nods to the door, and the pair make their way down the stairs towards the exit.
The bitter winds of Chicago’s winter season meet them eagerly as the pair exit the district. Hailey isn’t sure how it happens, but they end up nearly shoulder to shoulder as they walk down the sidewalk towards the parking lot. Each time they almost brush against one another she feels a rush of heat move through her body from the proximity alone. Trying to ignore her feelings was proving to be more and more difficult with each moment that passed between her and the man at her side.
“Beer and story-time at my place?” Jay suggests as they near the lot.
“Give me about an hour?” Hailey counters. She just needs a little bit of time to herself to try and clear her head.
“Sure. I’ll order food from that Greek place you like,” Jay says.
She smiles at him. “Sounds good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”
Jay gives her one of his grins, one that Hailey has come to realize is only ever used with her and one that should be considered illegal, and then the two go their separate ways.
XXX
Hailey’s nothing if not punctual. If she says an hour, she means an hour. So when there’s a light knock on Jay’s door thirty minutes after leaving his partner at the district, he’s a bit perplexed. He’s got a pep in his step though as he walks to the door, a grin plastered on his face, and ready to spend his night with Hailey.
“You said an hour. Food’s not here ye-,” his teasing tone fades out as he pulls open the door and he stands silent as he looks at the woman in front of him who most definitely is not his current partner.
“Hi Jay.”
“Erin.”
Every emotion a person could ever possibly feel is felt by Jay within seconds of each other as he stands in front of Erin Lindsay for the first time in almost four years. Her dark hair falls down past her shoulders in waves and she’s not dressed in some fancy pantsuit, but there’s still something about the way she stands with her hands clasped together in front of her that seems like she’s got things all figured out now.
All he can do is stare at the woman in front of him, as if he’s just seen a ghost. And maybe he has, as memories of their days spent together, both professionally and privately, overload his brain. It causes him to grip the door handle so tight his knuckles turn white.
“What are you doing here?” He finally gets out.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m here for work. Heard you went and got yourself shot again.”
Jay rolls his eyes. “Hank tell ya that?”
Erin raises her eyebrows at him then and finds herself smirking at him. “First name basis with him now, eh?”
“You’re a little late. It’s been a few weeks since the shooting,” he says, ignoring her comment. His voice is strong and curt, the complete opposite of what it’d been mere moments before when he thought it was Hailey at his door.
“I was deep in a case. I didn’t know until about an hour ago when I talked to Hank on the phone,” she explains.
He just shakes his head at her. “Doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here, Erin?”
“He told me how bad it was. I was in town and I wanted to know that you were okay. Can I come in? Please?”
Jay stares at her for a moment, wanting to say no, but something inside of him doesn’t let him get the word out despite the whisper of a voice in the back of his head telling him it was a mistake. He lets out a long sigh and steps aside instead, opens the door fully, and allows her to enter. He closes the door behind her after she steps inside and the two of them stand across from each other in his living room. Jay leans back onto the top of his couch, his arm still in the sling and his other hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans while Erin stands off to the side with her hands in her jacket now.
“What could you possibly have to say to me after all this time that a phone call couldn’t do?”
“I know how I left things Jay. I know I hurt you and I know I’m probably an idiot for showing up like this after everything we’ve been through. I just wanted to see you and make sure you were okay.”
Jay scoffs at her, shaking his head. “After everything that happened? You mean when you left without saying a word to me or to anyone besides Hank? Or do you mean when I texted and called and left a dozen messages, and you didn’t have the decency to respond to a single one to let me know you were at least okay?”
The combination of the last few years of keeping it all locked up inside of him, then unloading it during therapy, and now seeing her in front of him like nothing ever happened pushes him over the edge. She really showed up, expecting years of anger and hurt and pain to be swept under the rug as if her leaving hadn’t destroyed him for a period of time.
Erin just stares back at him and doesn’t speak. Hearing the anger in his voice and seeing the pain of what she’d left behind in his eyes wasn’t something she had prepared herself for on her way over to his apartment. She takes in the lingering stain of almost healed bruises on his skin, the sling in which his arm rests. She’s beginning to think this was nothing, but a mistake. That the look in his eyes now is going to be another memory that haunts her.
Erin pulls her hands out of her pockets and takes a step forward. She doesn’t touch him, she won’t, but she needs to be closer to him, needs him to hear her words and look him directly in the eyes when she says them.  
“I’m sorry, Jay.”
His eyes immediately close as he hears the words come out of her mouth. He hadn’t realized all this time that he was waiting for something from her. An explanation. An apology. Some sort of something that would make him feel some sort of relief or closure. Anything.
He opens his eyes a moment later when there’s another knock at his door and he thanks the heavens or the universe or whatever it is for the interruption.
He lets out a deep sigh as he walks to the door and when he pulls it open, he feels both relieved and panicked when he sees Hailey standing in front of him. It takes all of two seconds for her eyes to meet his and for a grin to appear on her face when she sees him. And then another two seconds later, her eyes find Erin standing behind him and her smile is gone. She glances between them, noticing the obvious tension that hangs in the air around them all now.
“Erin,” Hailey breathes out.
Erin offers a smile and a small wave. “Hey Hailey. Long time no see.”
“Yeah, it‘s been a minute. How ya been?” Hailey asks. It’s a poor attempt to be polite and make small talk, but she’s not dumb. She knows what she’s just walked in on and all she wants to do now is to turn around and leave and return home.
Erin shrugs. “Busy. Work has been crazy.”
Hailey nods then, not saying anything else and not wanting to continue the conversation. She knows exactly who Erin had been to Jay at one point, and seeing the woman who caused him so much pain and heartache causes Hailey to immediately be defensive and cautious.
“So um, rain check then? We’ll catch up another time,” Hailey says a second later, looking at Jay.
That was the last thing Jay wanted, but he nods anyway. He can tell she’s uncomfortable and he can’t exactly blame her. He’s not so comfortable himself.
“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells her.
Erin watches the two, a small knowing smile appearing on her face. She watches Jay as he watches Hailey, his eyes following the blonde as she walks away from him and down the hallway. The look on his face tells Erin everything she needs to know.
Jay only closes his apartment door when he hears the elevator doors chime open and sees Hailey step inside the elevator car. He turns back to Erin, running his free hand over the back of his head, while she leans against the back of his couch now with her arms crossed in front of her.
“How long has that been going on?”
He quirks an eyebrow at her. “How long has what been going on?"
Erin nods to the door, a smirk on her face now. “You and Hailey.”
“There’s nothing going on there. We’re just partners,” Jay tells her.
Erin nods, but the smirk doesn’t leave her face and despite everything, Jay still knows her well enough to know she isn’t gonna let it go. “You and I were just partners at one point too, ya know? We may not be in each other’s lives anymore, but I can still tell when you’re lying.”
“How long you in town for?” He asks her, ignoring her words.
She’s still smirking, but lets him deflect. “I head back to New York tomorrow afternoon.”
“You should go and see Voight before you leave. I’m sure he’d like to see you,” he tells her.
Erin nods, but doesn’t move. “You’re good, right? You’re okay?”
He knows she’s not only asking about the shooting, but everything else. His PTSD, his past, his life.
“I’m good Erin. I’m really good,” he assures her with a smile.
Erin nods again, looking down at the floor. When she raises her eyes back to his again he sees the tears and a look of realization in them.
“We won’t ever be friends again, will we?” Erin asks even though she already knows the answer.
“I don’t think we were ever really friends, Erin. Not really. You never let me in. I mean, really let me in. And I know I didn’t do the same with you either. Especially near the end. We both said and did things back then. We just didn’t work,” he says.
There is a sense of relief that overwhelms his senses as he says the words out loud, like he’s been needing to say them to her. And they sting like a slap to the face, but Erin gets it. She can’t hold any of it against him because he’s right. Things had been messy between them, to put it lightly. They both had their issues, together and apart, and they’d never quite learned how to deal with things. She knows he isn’t being vicious. He’s just being honest. He’s just being Jay.
“I wish things had been different for us. If I could go back and do it again, I would do it right,” Erin tells him, her voice sincere as she stands up straight and takes a step toward him.
“Can I at least hug you goodbye? We didn’t get that the last time I left,” she says quietly.
Jay nods and reaches for her with his good arm, wrapping it around her shoulders while Erin’s snake around his waist, careful of his sling. He gives her a squeeze and she does the same before the two separate, and Erin makes her way to the door. She pulls it open, but then turns around to face him one last time.
“If she doesn’t already know, you should tell Hailey how you feel,” Erin tells him.
He doesn’t try to play it off this time. He knows he’s been found out and he doesn’t have the energy to try and lie about it anymore, so he just shrugs.
“Not sure getting involved with another partner is the smartest idea. Didn’t work out so well last time,” Jay says. He makes a bad joke, a jab at them, and it’s a lame attempt to downplay his feelings and the conversation at hand, and Erin just rolls her eyes at him.
“Look, you can lie to me all you want, but don’t lie to yourself. You should tell her Jay. I can see she feels the same.”
She gives him one last smile and then she’s gone. And he’s left with the closure he never got from her before, but also with more questions than ever plaguing his mind now.
Jay makes his way to his sofa, plops down, and leans his head back against the cushions. There’s another knock on his door and he curses as he stands. It’s the delivery guy with the food he had ordered earlier. He pays the delivery guy and closes his door, looking down at the bag in his hand for barely a moment before a smile appears on his face. He’s exhausted and his shoulder is throbbing in discomfort, but he realizes right then there’s only one place else he’d rather be.
XXX
Hailey’s head is reeling by the time she gets back to her place. She kicks her shoes off as soon as she walks through her front door and then goes straight to the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey and a glass. She’s still in disbelief and shock that Erin had shown up out of the blue. A part of her feeling angry, annoyed, but mostly she’s just confused and curious.
Why had she come back? And why now, years later? Did she want Jay back? Did he want her back? Too many questions were clouding her head and she needed them to disappear immediately.
She pours herself a glass of whiskey and knocks it back quickly, enjoying the momentary burn as it slips down her throat.
She’s not sure how much time passes between knocking back her first drink and now sipping on her third, when a loud knock sounds at her door. She groans out, slightly annoyed, thinking it must be Vanessa. Her roommate was quick as a whip and damn good police, but the younger officer had a bad habit of forgetting her keys.
Hailey makes her way to the door, shuffling her socked feet against the hardwood floors and pulls the door open hastily. She doesn’t expect to see her partner standing on the other side and takes a small step back in surprise.
“Hi,” Jay says to her with a shy smile on his face.  
“Hi,” Hailey breathes out.
Jay doesn’t miss the way her voice seems to crack with just one word. Her eyes are glassy, but he can’t tell if she’s been crying or drinking, or both. He nods down to the bag of take out and beer in his good hand.
“Too soon for that rain check?” He asks her with a smirk now.
Hailey offers him a small smile and pulls the door open further, taking another step back so Jay can step inside. She closes the door behind him and leads him through the kitchen. He clocks the bottle of amber liquid on the counter as he follows Hailey to the living room, and then the two sit down on the couch.
“Whiskey huh?” He asks, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen with a slight smirk on his face.
“Yeah, I was thirsty,” Hailey claps back with a smirk of her own.
Jay shakes his head at her before reaching for the bag of food. He pulls out several containers, handing Hailey’s food over to her, and the two dig in.
They eat in silence, stealing glances from the other every so often. Jay can tell something is off with his partner and he’s certain it has to do with the fact that she’d seen Erin in his apartment not even an hour ago. He can also tell she’s keeping her distance from him. Had it been any other time they’d be sat together knee to knee, eating their food, knocking back beers, and griping over some sporting event playing on television. Instead, Hailey sits with her legs crossed like a pretzel, keeping space between them, as she stays as close to the end of her couch as she can.
What he can’t gather is why she’s so distant with him. And then he remembers Erin’s words from earlier.
“I can see she feels the same...”
Did Hailey feel something for him? Something more than normal partners should feel for one another? She couldn’t think anything happened with Erin, did she? Not after all this time. Not after everything the two of them had been through together.
Jay knew this was new territory for them. They’d never crossed this line before. The line of professionalism and friendship. But looking at her now, Jay was sure there was never a time before tonight that he’d felt so awkward around Hailey. That he couldn’t get a solid read on her and it was killing him.  
“You okay?” He finally asks after they finish eating. He turns his head to look at her and leans against her couch with his arms spread out over the back.
“I’m fine. Guess I just didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” Hailey tells him as she takes a pull from her beer.
“How come?” Jay presses.
Hailey raises an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he was serious, and he just shrugs making her laugh. The sound alone makes him smile. Despite whatever was or wasn’t happening between them, he could at least still make her laugh.
“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that to happen. I thought it was you knocking on my door,” Jay says, reaching for his own beer.
“What did she want?” Hailey asks, unable to help herself.
“See how I was doing. Apologize. She’s here for work and Voight mentioned the shooting. I don’t know. Guilty conscience, I guess.”
“And how do you feel about that? Her being back, I mean.”
He takes a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.
“She’s not back. She’s leaving tomorrow.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Hailey pushes.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jay counters.
Hailey shrugs. “Lot of history there.”
“I feel like there’s too much history, but there’s also nothing left between me and Erin. There are no feelings there whatsoever. I’ve moved on,” Jay tells her.
Hailey nods slowly, taking another sip of her beer and taking in his words as she looks down into her lap. She starts fiddling with the label on her beer bottle, needing to busy herself with anything other than looking in his eyes. A part of her is nervous at what she might find in those green eyes she had come to enjoy looking into so much. Maybe lies, or worse, truth.
“Hailey.”
How was it possible to both love and hate the way his voice sounded saying her name?
She takes a quick breath and looks up, meeting his eyes. Green. Smiling. Honest.
“Yeah,” she breathes out.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just tired,” she says as she runs her free hand through her hair.
Jay shakes his head at her. “Tell me what’s really going on in that head of yours.”
He needs her to tell him. He’s practically begging her with his eyes, but Hailey just shakes her own head at him then and stands from the couch.
“I really am tired. Maybe we should call it a night. It’s been a long day for both of us. Thanks for stopping by and for dinner, but I just wanna go to bed.”
He realizes she isn’t exactly asking for him to leave, but rather telling him as she carries her beer and grabs their empty food containers, and then makes her way to the kitchen. He lets out a deep sigh before he gets up from the couch and follows her. Her back is facing him as she puts her glass from earlier in the sink and stores the whiskey away in a cabinet.
Before he realizes what he’s doing, Jay walks up behind her and reaches a hand towards her. He feels her body go rigid the second his hand lands on her waist, and then he hears the deep breath she takes.
It’s the first time they’ve touched one another in such an intimate way that wasn’t case related or him comforting her or shielding them from flying bullets in a surveillance van. It was just them.
He pulls at her side, forcing her to turn around and his heart aches at the sight of her blue eyes. Erin was right. Hailey does feel something for him. It’s splayed out all over her face and the tears in the corners of her eyes.
“Do you really want me to leave?” He asks. His voice is so quiet he’s not sure she even hears him.
He watches as she sucks in another breath and then shakes her head slowly, almost hesitantly. He feels his fingers twitch at her waist and he takes another small step closer towards her so they’re nearly chest to chest. His arm is around her now, his hand on her lower back.
“Can I stay?”
All she can do is nod her head. And then she reaches around her back for his hand and leads him up the stairs to her bedroom. They don’t say another word to each other. When they reach her room, Hailey releases his hand and grabs a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt from her dresser, then disappears into the bathroom. Jay slips the sling from his shoulder to remove his sweatshirt before carefully sliding the contraption back on over his t-shirt. He kicks off his jeans then as Hailey enters the bedroom again.
Her eyes linger on him for a moment as he stands in the middle of her bedroom in just a t-shirt and boxers. She gives him a shy smile and then nods to the bed. She takes the left side; he takes the right. And it feels so natural, like it’s not at all the first time they’re about to share a bed together.
They lay next to one another, ample space between them under the covers because he is still a gentleman and doesn’t want to overstep with her. He hears her blow out a deep breath next to him, and he turns his head slightly to look at her. There’s just enough light steaming in through her bedroom windows from the streetlights outside that he can make out the profile of her face, the angle of her jawline, and how she’s got her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
The awkward tension from earlier still somewhat lingers, but there’s a strange sense of comfortability around them now too. Because no matter what happens they’re still just Hailey and Jay. They’re still them. And before he can think twice he’s reaching his hand out under the covers to find hers. The sudden contact of his skin and the squeeze of his fingers against hers makes her jump and she turns her head to seek out his eyes in the slight darkness.
There’s a strange look on his face, one that she has seen before, but has tried to ignore. The look that tells her he feels it between them too, even though neither have admitted it or said anything out loud yet.
“You’re my best friend. You know that right?” He asks her then. His voice is deep and quiet, and he squeezes her hand again.
Hailey nods, realizing she’s been staring at him in silence this whole time before she says, “you’re my best friend, too.”
Jay squeezes her fingers once more and it’s quiet again as they lay side by side in her bed. He can feel it in the silence though. He can feel it in the slow brush of her thumb moving back and forth over the top of his hand. He can feel it in the way her eyes stare back at him.
There’s something palpable between them. Undeniable. It’s in everything they do and don’t do, everything they say and don’t say. They both know it, but say nothing else as they drift closer together in Hailey’s bed, not letting go of one another’s hand.
They don’t need to say anything because they know it’s just a matter of time before things change again for them. Until they finally break from their stubbornness and trepidation and insecurities that have stemmed from their broken pasts. They know this thing between them is inevitable.
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thebigqueer · 3 years
Text
Solangelo - "I Will Follow You into the Dark" - One-Shot
Summary: Will and Nico discuss their upcoming trip to Tartarus and argue about it.
Word Count: 2166
TW: Implied Homophobia (super small, though) SPOILERS: The Burning Maze, Tower of Nero
Read on AO3
It’s been a shaky morning, to say the least.
Will and Nico had to get up early to go find a gift for the Trogs, and it really was no easy hassle for either of them to get up. So much had happened the day before that it was almost impossible to find the will to rise early.
But somehow they managed it. With sleep still heavy in their eyes and a pale sheen over both their skins, the boys ventured out of Camp Half-Blood to accomplish the first step before the looming chaos: getting a lizard.
It’s about eleven in the morning by the time they find themselves on the subway train. The vehicle creaks and groans as the boys are submerged into darkness.
Will and Nico were lucky enough to get a seat right next to each other. The subway train is packed with people just as tired they are, all zooming forward to complete their mundane, uneventful lives.
Will wonders if they even know how much their life is in danger today. It’s always been a little funny how demigods and gods work behind the scenes to keep the world away from devastation, all just to see that mortals are so painfully oblivious to things happening around them. But Will supposes they have an excuse - many of them can’t see through the Mist, and besides, they all have their own smaller worries to care about.
If only his own worries were as small as theirs.
Will leans into Nico a little, pressing his arm against the son of Hades. Even though it’s barely a show of affection, a burst of pink blooms over Nico’s nose and cheeks. Will decides to lean away a little at the sight. He knows that Nico is not comfortable with too much public affection, especially in public places like NYC, which Will can understand. He’d rather die by the hands of a monster instead of a mere mortal who can’t accept who he is.
Nonetheless, Nico touches Will’s finger with his, just a little, and that’s enough to make Will smile. No one can see their hands touching, but maybe that’s what makes the touch so exciting to Will - they’re doing this in secret, living in their own tiny world.
Will eases into Nico again, just a little bit - not enough to make their relationship painfully obvious, but enough to tell Nico he’s here. A ghost of a smile haunts Nico’s lips.
“Thank you for agreeing to come today,” Nico says, his voice sweet and gentle as honey as it sweeps through Will’s ears. He turns his head to look at Will, and just as he does, the train opens up into the bright sunny light. It flashes against the right side of his face, seeps into his skin, illuminates his dark eyes. He can do anything and make it look like a Renaissance painting.
Will smiles. “Well, I’m not going to let you go alone.”
Nico raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Will. You didn’t seem very excited to come with me. You know, what with the whole ‘the Trogs are bad for you, Nico,’ ‘don’t risk your mental health, Nico,’ ‘no, Nico.’”
Will sighs. “And yet you still decided to go.”
“I would be dooming everyone if I didn’t.”
“But do you realize that sometimes you don’t need to take the weight of the world on your shoulders all the time?”
“Well, isn’t that why you’re coming with me today? To help take some of the weight?”
Will lowers his gaze as a trickle of fear slithers down his back. “I’m not really talking about the Trogs anymore.”
“I figured you weren’t.” An icier tone stabs Nico’s words, and Will winces. “I don’t want to talk about Tartarus right now.” His eyes waver around the train. “Not here, at least.”
Will wants to keep talking about it, though. But he sees the shadows behind Nico’s eyes, the underlying fear that plagues him at night.
“Fine,” he whispers boldly. “We’ll talk about it when we get off.”
~
About fifteen minutes later, the subway train screeches to a halt at the station. Darkness has once again infiltrated their space, and the scent of trash and dirt swims around the boys. Will sticks close to Nico, just to make sure neither of them get lost in the chaos of New York City.
As soon as they’re out into fresh air, Will tugs his boyfriend’s hand, stopping the both of them in their tracks. People mill around, pushing past the two, but the boys are stuck in time. Nico looks at Will, a darkness roiling behind his irises, and Will knows that they have to talk about it now. He wants them to.
Nico sighs and steps closer, slipping his hand out of Will’s. He crosses his arms across his chest. “We have a mission, Will. This is important. Why are we talking about this now?”
“We need to.” Quickly, Will rushes the two of them to an empty alleyway, where shadows envelop them in a cold embrace and silence segregates them from the rest of the world. While the day outside is sunny and warm, a cold breeze brushes against their faces in the shade.
Nico scrubs his face in annoyance. “I don’t understand why we have to talk about this now.”
“We haven’t talked about it at all,” Will says. “Every time I try to, you always switch the topic or we get whisked away to something new.”
“Then what do you want to talk about?” Nico grumbles. “We already know that it’s likely I have to go back in. What else is there to discuss?”
“What we have to discuss is who’s going with you. You’re not going down there alone again.”
Nico laughs curtly. “Will, I’m not taking you with me. You already offered and I’m turning you down. I’m going on my own.”
Will shakes his head. “Nico, you can’t. You just started getting voices from someone in Tartarus - who, by the way, we aren’t even sure is real - and you’re thinking that you have to go.” Will steps closer, his curls bouncing mere inches from Nico’s face. “If you have to go, I’m going with you. You went in and almost lost your sanity. It’s a miracle you even made it out alive and with your mind intact. Going back in will be like a shredder to your brain, and not to mention you’re going to be even more mentally unstable than the first time.”
Nico raises a brow. “I beg to differ. I’ll be going in stronger than last time.” He pulls away from the blond. “I’m stronger than I was then, Will. I’m emotionally, mentally, and physically better. You don’t need to think I’m fragile.”
“I don’t think you’re fragile, Nico.” Will’s mouth curls into a frown, and concern laces in his eyes. “I never think that.”
“Then why are you insisting to come with me? If anything, you’re going to be worse off than I am.”
At his words, Will’s heart skips a beat. Red hot rage simmers over his blood, invades his system, folds over his mind. “Why would I be worse off?” Will asks, a scowl flashing over his features. Before Nico can answer, he blurts, “Is it because I’m weak? Because I’m just a kid of Apollo? Because I’m better at healing and that I’m some kind of sweet, innocent child of nature?” Without meaning to, all of Will’s repressed anger spills into his words, puddles out into the open. The ache of tears builds up in his throat, choking him with his rage. Will drowns in his insecurities, suffocates under his sadness.
“Because I’m not a child of the Big Three?” he suggests further, his voice like shards of glass that sink into Nico’s skin. “Is that why I’m going to be worse?”
Nico blinks in surprise. He steps back a little, fear sparkling in his eyes. As much as Will hates to make him feel that way, there’s still that inkling of pride at the back of his mind. He’s making someone afraid. He’s never able to do that.
Nico shakes his head vigorously. “No, Will, I would never think that. It’s not because you’re weak. You’re not weak.”
“Then what is it? Am I useless to you? Nothing more than your pretty, innocent boyfriend?”
“Where is this coming from? Why are you acting like this?”
Nico’s words echo in Will’s brain, prodding through his mind. Will blinks, surprised by his question. Where is this coming from? Will wonders.
A wave of emotions overflows in his chest, surges in his throat, rises to his head. His vision turns red and yellow and he holds his head in his hands, trying to stop the rage in his body. He feels like he’s going to explode, to combust, to burn up. He’s going to destroy everything in this alleyway.
Tears prick his eyes, and one slips out of the corner, creating a crack against the side of his face. He’s breaking. “I can’t let you go alone, Nico,” Will whispers, voice pleading, begging, urging. He grabs for Nico’s hands, yearning for his warmth. “I can’t let you risk your life. I can’t let another person die.”
Nico’s chest heaves with each breath, his own eyes swimming with tears. His mouth is pulled at the corners, stretched with anger and exhaustion and annoyance. For a second, he lets Will take his hands, to hold him. But then he snatches them back angrily, a scowl prominent across his features.
“How do you think I feel letting you come with me?” Nico hisses, his hands shivering at his sides. “I can’t let you die because of me, Will. You’re one of the few people I have left in this world. Jason died. My mother died. Bianca left me. I’m not letting you leave me, too. Not if I can fucking help it.” A teardrop rolls down the side of his face and he wipes it away, but two more slip over his face. “You’re not coming and that’s final.”
Will runs his hands through his curls in frustration. “Why aren’t you understanding this, Nico?” he hisses. “Why can’t you see that I feel the same way? You know how guilty I feel each and every time someone dies. If I don’t offer to come with you, then that’s like saying I’m letting you die. Your blood will be on my hands if I don’t come, because I could stop you but I wouldn’t be able to if you go on your own.” A sob stabs his chest. “I don’t want you to die.”
“That’s how I feel!” Nico cries, his anger ringing in the alleyway. The darkness around them pulses. “I don’t want you to die. Taking you with me is promising that I’m going to be responsible for your death! And I don’t want that! I don’t want… I don’t want to be responsible for your death. I don’t want you risking your life for me. It’s not worth it.”
“But you’re not forcing me to go with you!” Will protests, his fingers twitching. “I’m doing it on my own.” He pulls closer to Nico again, grasping for his hands, grasping for his realness. He needs Nico to understand how willing he is to follow Nico into the dark, the danger, the devastation. “My death will not be in your hands because I’m choosing to go with you. If one of us falls, then we both fall. I’m not letting you go down on your own.”
Nico’s breath hitches as another broken sob echoes around them. Pain chokes his words as he says, “If I go, it’s my choice to go on my own. That isn’t your fault. Why won’t you understand that?”
“For the same reason that you can’t understand my point,” Will says, groping for Nico’s warmth again. “Because we care about each other too much. But, Nico, please. I need to go. I can’t… I don’t… You can’t do this on your own. You don’t need to be the hero on your own all the time. Let someone else be there with you.” Will leans in once more, pressing his forehead against Nico’s. The son of Hades melts into the touch, raising his head just a little. “You’ve been alone too long. You don’t need to be anymore.”
Silence encompasses them again. They’re swirling in a tornado of emotions, lifting off from the ground, joining together in confusion.
Then Nico steps away. He wipes his face against his sleeve, trying to get rid of all the emotion that took over him just moments ago. Behind his dark eyes, Will sees the stubbornness crashing down, the walls crumbling.
But they’re not falling enough. The ruins still stand high.
Nico lets go of the blond’s hand. “We’ll see,” is all he says.
And he steps out of the alleyway, entering the universe once more, leaving Will in the darkness.
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btssaysstudy · 4 years
Text
Rebound Pt. 2
Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Taehyung (V) x reader  Genre: Angst  Warning: Swearing, cheating mentioned  Synopsis: After encouraging your best friend, Taehyung, (also crush) to tryout for the volleyball team, he had gained attention and you started getting closer to one of his teammates. When Taehyung gets himself into a relationship, you found yourself growing attached to Jungkook. However, when Taehyung’s relationship turns sour, he turns to you to fill the void - something Jungkook strongly opposed to. Word count: 6.4k
PT.1
Thank you for reading it and requesting for a pt.2, it means a lot and I hope you like this:))
The next morning, you woke up realising that you went to sleep without changing out of your clothes and washing off your makeup. You rushed to the mirror to see that your makeup was gone.
“I used your makeup wipes last night. I didn’t want to change your clothes because… Well you know.” Jungkook awkwardly explained, avoiding your gaze. You smiled at him, “Thanks Kook.” You noticed that your sleeping bag had ben sprawled out on the floor, realising that Jungkook had probably slept on the cold wooden floor with no pillow.
“Shit, you should’ve taken one of my pillows Kook. I’m sorry you had to sleep on the floor. You could’ve left me once I knocked out.”
He laughed, “I can’t leave you alone after what happened last night.” That triggered your brain to recall the memories of the night before, the heart-breaking scene of Taehyung flirting with his ex and even accusing you and Jungkook at the front yard.
Jungkook must have noticed your distant look, “Hey. Freshen up and we can go get lunch?”
You snapped back to reality and nodded your head. Jungkook grabbed his stuff and made his way to the door, “I’ll meet you at the common area in an hour?”
“Sure. See you then.”
Once Jungkook left, you grabbed your towel and made your way to the bathroom to take a hot soothing shower. Your thoughts were scattered, reliving the party for a moment and then thinking about confronting Taehyung the next. You were thankful that Jungkook had been with you last night, if not you doubt that you would have been able to fall asleep.
You got dressed up and made your way to the common area at the ground level to meet Jungkook. “Hey, you.” Jungkook smiled, walking towards you. “Ready to eat? My treat.”
With a groan, you shook your head, turning down his offer. “Kook, enough with your treats. I should be the one treating you.” Jungkook laughed, “Nice try. Not gonna happen.”
The two of you made your way to your usual eatery place, settling down and almost immediately ordered your go-to meals.
“So how are you holding up?”
You pressed your lips tight together, trying to form a proper thought. “Surprisingly better than expected. Maybe it’s because I always knew deep inside that I was a rebound.” You looked down at the table, "Just regret that I allowed it to happen.”
“You shouldn’t regret it y/n. You did like him and on the bright side, you did say things were good while it lasted. You can’t do anything to change the past but at least now you can move forward.”
“Yea I know you’re right about that. I just can’t help thinking if we can be friends again after this.” You fiddled with the condiments on the table. Jungkook reach out to take your hands in his, “Maybe not now but eventually time will heal. I know he’s your best friend and it’ll be a waste to let it all go.” He then released his hold and leaned back into his chair when he saw the food coming your way, “Then again, I don’t do cheaters.”
You scoffed, “Thanks for the help.”
Jungkook just grinned cheekily at you, “Any time.”
The two of you started eating and talked about other completely unrelated topics. You leaned back, rubbing your belly. “Food baby has arrived.” You joked, letting yourself laugh a bit.
“Nice to hear your laugh again.” Jungkook gave you a very endearing smile that made you feel warm inside. You could feel your cheeks heat up as you tried to ignore the feeling.
“Thanks for keeping me company Kook.”
You had been avoiding Taehyung like the plague. You ignored his texts and you went for lectures alone. A huge part of you wished you had lectures with Jungkook but you attended different classes. You also stopped going for their volleyball practices. Jungkook never asked you to come and watch since he knew it would be uncomfortable. However, you would study at the library while waiting for Jungkook to finish his training, meeting for dinner afterwards.
You were still caught up to their progress and upcoming matches since Jungkook would always update you the second he learns it. The semester had gone by in a blink of an eye and it was already finals period. You had gone through the second half of the semester without Taehyung and it felt weird. It felt weird to not have your best friend by your side after three years of being inseparable.
However, what you gained was a really strong bond with Jungkook. He would surprise you over the weekend with your favourite drinks and with his laptop, ready to watch a movie to take a breather from studies. Jungkook would ask to study together when he didn’t have practice. You spent most of your time with him and you weren’t complaining.
“I think I’m going to talk to Taehyung for closure.”
“You are?” Jungkook swivelled his chair to face you. You shifted to rest on your left side, resting your head on your left hand to prop up your head off his bed. “Yea, I don’t feel any animosity towards him. I also don’t want our friendship to end.”
Jungkook seemed to be in thought since he didn’t give you an immediate reply. You frowned, “You think it’s a bad idea, don’t you?”
“N-No no! I think it’s great. You already know that he always asks me about you. He still cares for you. I think it’s a good thing.” He gave you an encouraging look, giving you the courage to pick up your phone to text Taehyung.
‘Hey, it’s been awhile. Are you free to meet?’
Just as you tossed your phone away, it vibrated, signalling a message. “Damn. That was fast.” Jungkook whistled. You unlocked your phone to read his reply, “He’s free tonight. Better get it over with I guess.” You let out a long sigh, “Don’t be nervous y/n. It’ll go well.”
So you replied Taehyung and set a meet-up point for the night.
After studying at Jungkook’s place for the whole day, you packed your things and made your way to meet Taehyung. You reached the place to see Taehyung already waiting for you. “Hey.” You called for his attention. The boy whipped his head around so quickly, you swore he could’ve gotten a whiplash. “Y/N.” He said your name in a breathy voice, as if in shock that you really came to meet him.
The two of you sat on a nearby bench and you could immediately feel an awkward tension envelope you two. You fiddled with your own hands as you tried to come up with a starting sentence.
“Listen—“
“I’m sorry—“
The two of you paused and broke into a laughter, finding the awkward vibe amusing. “You go ahead.” Taehyung gestured to you to begin.
You nodded your head, taking in a deep breath.
“I know I shouldn’t have ignored you for the rest of the semester, but I felt that I needed it. I’m sorry for ignoring you but it allowed me to clear my thoughts. It was already foolish of me to accept that dating idea but I know I did it because I was hopeful that something could really happen between us. I did that knowing you still weren’t over your ex. Though what you still did was still kinda messed up, but I forgive you.”
Taehyung nodded his head slowly as he took it all in. The silence after your ‘monologue’ was killing you and you were dying to know what Taehyung had to say. “I’m really sorry y/n. Till this day, I hate myself for doing that to you. I did like you, romantically, when we dated. But I was still trying to move on and I used you to try and fix that. I should have never done that to you. You’re my best friend and I care for you, a lot. I genuinely do. I still do. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I thank you for that. Also, I understand if we can’t be friends anymore. I respect your decision.”
His voice cracked towards the end when he brought up about not being friends anymore and it honestly broke your heart as well. The thought of not having Taehyung in your life anymore, as a best friend. You didn’t want to lose your first friend in college. You smiled, reaching out to place your hand over his. “I don’t want that to happen Tae. I’d like us to continue being friends. But it’ll take a while to get back to where we were.” From that reply, you could feel hope and happiness return to his body and his eyes as he turned to you, vigorously nodding his head. “I understand. Completely. I’ll make up for the shit I’ve done to you. I mean it.”
You laughed, “I believe you Tae.”
Taehyung’s shoulders visibly relaxed as he leaned back, looking up at the sky. “I have been hoping that you would give me a second chance. Now that it’s actually true, a big part of me feels like I don’t deserve it.”
“I know you’re still a good guy. You’re also my friend. And I care for you.”
“I’m relieved Jungkook has been by your side. He’s a good guy, really.”
At the mention of Jungkook’s name made your cheeks heat up as you wondered why you were feeling this way. You didn’t want to catch feelings again, especially when Jungkook had become a really close friend. You didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Taehyung.
“You okay, y/n?”
“Hm? Oh yea, I’m fine.”
Finals went by in a flash, with Jungkook being your 24/7 study buddy. During the period that you weren’t on speaking terms with Taehyung, you were relieved to find out that he had other friends he could hang out with. He also became really close to his volleyball seniors who gave him coaching and life-lessons (also a good scolding by Namjoon) when he told them everything that happened. You and Jungkook on the other hand, were stuck together like glue.
Once finals ended, Jungkook asked you out to a movie to celebrate freedom.
“Summer’s here at last!” Jungkook fist pumped the air and you laughed, watching the volleyball player prance along the walkway. “Calm down child.”
“I’m no child.” Jungkook gave you a cute pout that made your heart swoon. You ignored the thought, pushing him to start walking. “Alright, alright, let’s just keep on moving.”
Jungkook looked at you attempting to shove him, laughing at the sight. “You’re cute when you try so hard.” You immediately pulled away and smacking his arm. “What did I do?” He rubbed his arm, looking at you in confusion and with a tint of amusement.
“N-Nothing. Let’s just go.”
The two of you made your way to his car and he drove you home. Jungkook had Spotify connected and you played your latest favourite songs. He began singing along and you were taken aback, not only was he athletic, he was an amazing singer. His clear and soothing voice made you feel so light and at peace. You treasured the mini performance he was giving you.
“Damn Kook.” You shook your head in shock, “Didn’t know you’re a singer.”
“Nah.“
“Stop being humble.” You laughed and so did he. “Thanks for the compliment y/n. Means a lot, coming from you.” Your body felt stiff as your cheeks heated up, you were easily flustered by such random remarks that Jungkook would casually throw. Did he even know how it was making you feel?
You glanced at Jungkook once more, noting how good his side profile was as well. Not again, you scolded yourself as you found your thoughts wandering towards Jungkook. You recalled how Jungkook had been supportive of your decisions since day 0 and how comfortable it felt around him. However, this was the last thing you wanted to happen. 
Things were finally going well and the last thing you needed was to fuck it up. 
“Y/N.”
“Huh?” You turned to Jungkook. “You alright? I was asking why you have the Barbie Girl song in your playlist.”
“Oh, yea… Uh I think I added it in one time because it was stuck in my head.” You chuckled, resting into your seat as you looked straight ahead on the road. “You sure you’re alright?” Jungkook asked sceptically, doubt evident in his tone.
“Yea I am.”
When you guys arrived at your place, Jungkook insisted to walk you up. “What would I do without my personal bodyguard?” You teased as you two entered the elevator. “You would probably just be rotting at home, calling it your post-finals celebration.”
You jutted out your lower lip, nodding your head, “You’re not wrong.”
Jungkook laughed, “So how are things with you and Taehyung?”
“We’re good. Not exactly back to normal but things seem just right. Why’d you ask?”
He shifted his weight between his feet, “Nothing serious… But I was wondering if you’d be comfortable coming for the upcoming Volleyball Championships.”
You didn’t realise how much time had flown by that it was already championships. You didn’t even realise the amount of time spent with Jungkook for the past few months as well. Seeing that you didn’t respond immediately, Jungkook added on, “It’s cool if you’re not comfortable, you don’t have to come.”
“Oh, no no! I was just realising that so much time had gone by. Can’t believe it’s your championships already. Anyway, of course I’ll be coming! Gotta support the team!” You grinned enthusiastically at him and he reciprocated the grin. “That means a lot y/n!”
“It’s not a big deal Kook, it’s just me going over—“
“Yes, and that means a lot to me.” Jungkook seemed too serious with that response, making you be at a loss for words. “W-Well,” you cleared your throat, “I’m flattered.”
You liked to crash Jungkook’s place a lot since he had a PlayStation for you guys to get competitive and have fun. “I’m ready for my revenge Jeon Jungkook!” You announced as you got up to stretch your limbs. Jungkook let out an amused laugh as he got the PlayStation running, inserting the Just Dance game. “You sure about that? Last time I check the score was—“
“Hush!” bringing your finger to your lips, “I do not need to be reminded of the score.”
“Yes sir.” Jungkook teased, turning back to the television screen. “Alright, since it’s your revenge match, why don’t you select the song.” After scrolling through the list, you selected your revenge song and the two of you got into position, ready to start your battle.
It was no surprise that Jungkook had good coordination skills, he easily defeated you every time. “Damn it!” You frowned, “Another round!” You were determined, reaching out for the remote. “Hey! The winner should choose the song!” He extended his arm out to snatch the control from you. The two of you tried to gain control over the remote. Jungkook laughed, easily keeping you away from the remote as a song was randomly selected amongst your squabble.
Havana.
“A couple dance?” You were mentally freaking out at just the thought of holding Jungkook’s hand, teasing yourself for sounding like a child. “Get ready for me to step on your foot.”
“Then I’ll do the same to you.” He cheekily stuck out his tongue at you. The two of you started copying the dancers’ move, feeling how awkward it was at the beginning when you guys had to do moves together.
There was a move where you had to lean backwards with Jungkook supporting your back. You felt your cheeks get hot, feeling the close proximity as you kept one hand on his shoulder and the other hand clasping his hand. Jungkook’s other hand was placed behind your back, keeping it high as he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Your faces were inches apart for half the dance.
After a while, since it was an upbeat song, you two loosened up and started enjoying yourselves again. Halfway through the song, there was a move where Jungkook had to lift you up by your legs and spin you around. “Yea, not doing that!” You laughed and ended up just walking around him in a circle to imitate the female dancer. Jungkook laughed, mimicking the actions of carrying someone.
“I wasn’t going to drop you!”
Only if he knew that was not the reason why you didn’t want to do the move.
As the song went on, you realized how much you loved being in his embrace. It felt so warm and safe, so protected from the world. It just felt right to you and you didn’t want to let him go.
The ending move was just as scandalous as you twirled in front of Jungkook, with his hand gently cupping your head. You could feel his hot breath against your face, feeling his chest rise up and down, slightly panting after your many rounds of Just Dance. It felt like time had frozen in that awkward position, but you somehow forgot that you were leaning backwards, giving yourself a good back workout.
Jungkook propped you upright but kept his hand at the back of your head, the both of you staring into each other’s eyes. The only noise was the sound of Just Dance saying good job along with the background music.
You felt the urge to close the gap between the two you and it appeared that he had the same thought. You could feel yourselves leaning in, your heartbeat feeling even more prominent than ever. The screen brightly flashed your scores, causing you two pulled away from each other.
“I actually won!” You pumped the air, turning to face Jungkook, “Revenge done!” Jungkook seemed to snap out from his daze, clapping to congratulate you, “After 50 years. Good job y/n.”
During the semester break, you started watching their training sessions again since you had nothing else to do. It wasn’t awkward to go over since you were on good terms with Taehyung again as well. You were also always excited to see Jungkook train.
Watching him with his team, doing drills and having practice matches, you admired him so much. His passion, his determination. You just wanted to be there to support Jungkook.
“I see you have a lot of free time.” Namjoon looked at the big box that you brought over. You grinned, “It’s summer! I have nothing to do so… A little treat for you guys!” You lifted up the box to his eye level. “Y/N!” Jungkook skipped to your side, “What is this?”
“I baked a little something.” You gave them a shy smile.
“Did you poison it?” Yoongi teased, and you rolled your eyes in response. “Don’t expose me like that Yoongi.” Since you spent so much time watching their trainings and attending their celebratory parties, you’ve grown acquainted to most of the players and you really slapped yourself for having prejudice against these men.
They were so fun to hang out with and so down to earth. Their intimidating aura was only displayed on court and practices but outside the scene, they were all chaotic. “Well I’m sure they’re delicious!” Jungkook defended you, taking the big box from your grasp to bring it over to the bench.
“Thanks, Kook. At least someone’s supportive.” You stuck your tongue out at Yoongi who just chuckled, “Of course Jungkook would be by your side.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Namjoon nudged his teammate, as if warning him not the spill anything.
Just as you were about to question Yoongi again, Jungkook called you over. “Y/N! These are delicious!” 
You headed to his side, beaming with happiness. “Really? You like ‘em?”
His eyes were wide like a puppy as he eagerly nodded his head. “I love them!” 
“Now now, don’t keep everything to yourself Jeon Jungkook.” Taehyung teased as he approached the box to grab one for himself.
“I did not.”
“Jungkook, you’re literally standing in front of the box.” Namjoon commented, making everyone laugh.
Since the school semester was over, you had so much free time during summer that you started watching the volleyball anime - Haikyuu. Only because Jungkook was recommended it to you. He would come over to re-watch the episodes with you. You guys also had some unspoken agreement to not bring up what happened the other day.
“Man, volleyball is becoming a significant part of my life. Must be because I’m spending too much time with you.” You joked as you reached out to click to the next episode. “What’s wrong about that?” You were shocked by Jungkook’s tone, he sounded offended though he had tried to cover it up.
“It was just a joke Kook, I love spending time with you.” You nudged him and you could see his shoulders release tension.
“Did you think I meant it?”
“A bit.” Jungkook admitted and you frowned in response. “Come on Kook. If I was sick of you, I would’ve gotten rid of you already.”
You watched Jungkook bit his lip hesitantly before asking, “Do you think you’ll ever be sick of me?”
“W-What?”
Jungkook sat up, clearing his throat. “I-I mean… We only did start becoming close after the whole Taehyung thing. To be honest, sometimes I had thoughts that maybe… Maybe I’m just a replacement?”
“You can’t seriously feel that way?” You felt a bit hurt that Jungkook had these thoughts, you watched his expression, realising that he really did. “Jungkook… You know I genuinely care about you. You’re important to me.”
He nodded his head, “I know I know… Sorry, I know you do care I just couldn’t help but think about it.”
In a split second, his serious expression disappeared, and he grinned at you, “This got too serious. Let’s just continue the show.”
“O-Okay…”
Jungkook resumed the episode and you two had your gaze fixated on the screen. However, you were barely watching the episode as your mind was thinking about what Jungkook asked. 
Did he think that I’m just using him just like how Taehyung used me? Do I like him just because of what happened with me and Taehyung?
You never had the thought of liking Jungkook as a rebound but ever since he implied that, you couldn’t stop thinking about whether he was right. However, ever since that day, the two of you never brought it up again.
It wasn’t long till Championships have arrived and you were almost as nervous as the players themselves. “All the best! You’re gonna crush it, I can just feel it.”
“Thanks y/n. Glad to see you here supporting us.” Namjoon grinned, pulling you in for a side hug. Jungkook then came up to you, “Thanks for coming y/n.”
You shook your head, “It’s nothing. You’re gonna do so well.”
He winked at you at that. “I will because my lucky charm is here.”
Your cheeks felt hot as you scoffed, “Lucky charm?”
Jungkook nodded his head, reaching for his bag, “Yea my keychain—“
You felt embarrassed for assuming that he was referring to you and you stuttered a reply. The cheeky player laughed as he patted your shoulders, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “You know I was referring to you.” He pulled away, winking at you before catching up to Namjoon’s side.
You followed the team into the stadium and separated to find yourself a good seat. Once the stadium was more or less filled up, the commentator’s voice filled the stadium as he announced that the championship was officially starting. 
The teams walked in succession with their college’s flag as the stadium cheered for their favourite team. Your eyes followed Jungkook, his bright bunny smile, showing his excitement to play on court again. Jungkook was a competitive player but also a good sport and it was definitely an attractive trait.
After the ceremony, the court was prepared for the first game to commence. Your college was up first, and you watched on the edge of your seat, finding yourself constantly watching Jungkook. Jungkook was a spiker and he was definitely good at it. You were amazed at how effortlessly he jumped each time, the serious and competitive look on his face.
You would catch yourself having these thoughts about Jungkook and it was link back to his question about being a replacement. You knew you never saw Jungkook that way, but it seemed that he felt that way.
The game ended with a 2-1, your college taking the win. The team jumped in victory as they huddled up together, celebrating their first of many wins for that Championship.
After the team had ended their de-briefing, they walked off court and you headed down to congratulate them. “Y/N!” Namjoon beamed, reaching his hand out for a high five. “Always leading the group to victory, huh.”
“Well, I try my best.” Namjoon chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.
You caught Jungkook walking at the back of the group and you were about to head up to him when someone blocked your view. “Hey, y/n, can we talk?”
“T-Taehyung! Sure!” You didn’t really want to walk away because you wanted to talk to Jungkook, but you also didn’t want to be rude to Taehyung. “Namjoon, I’ll meet you guys at the locker room in a minute.” The tall leader nodded his head and the two of you left the group, heading out of the stadium together.
You guys sat at one of the benches outside the stadium, you wondered why he wanted to talk to you separately. “Congrats on winning Tae.”
“Thanks y/n.”
You watched him as he was obviously trying to form a proper sentence. Taehyung then let out a short low chuckle, “You know, I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t force me to fill up the sign-up sheet.”
“That is true.” You nodded your head, “I have so much to thank you for.” He responded. Shaking your head, you said otherwise. “What’s there to thank me for?”
He sighed; his cheerful smile seemed to have disappeared. “I still feel I don’t deserve your forgiveness for what I’ve done to you. You’re my best friend and I used you that way. So I’m also thankful for giving me another chance.”
You lightly nudged him with your shoulders, “I did take a few months to tell you I forgave you.”
Taehyung finally smiled again, “I’m glad that we’re talking again.”
“Me too, Tae… Me too…” You trailed off, staring at the grey cold floor. Does Jungkook really think I’m treating him that same way too?
Taehyung noticed you going off into your own thoughts, your gaze looking distant yet troubled. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Mm? Oh…” You shook your head, “It’s nothing.” You fidgeted with your hands, still thinking about Jungkook. Does Jungkook know that you like him? What was that incident over the Just Dance game? You guys almost kissed but never brought it up afterwards?
“Something’s troubling you.”
“No nothing’s bothering me.” You denied it the second time. Taehyung sighed, “It’s about Jungkook isn’t it?”
“W-What? No it’s not—“
Taehyung raised his eyebrows knowingly, “Every time I ask him about how you’re doing, he always seems to stutter or get stiff. And that’s a rare sight with Jungkook. What’s going on?”
You frowned, “Nothing’s going on. He told me about being a replacement. He thinks I’m just treating him as a form of rebound.”
“Did you tell him he’s not?”
“I did but he just brushed the topic aside and we never talked about it again.”
“You should talk about it with him. That guy really likes you. I can tell you like him too.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “I don’t even make it obvious—“
“Oh Jungkook! All the best for your game! Mm?? I’m your lucky charm?” Taehyung perked him, trying to imitate your voice and facial expressions. You laughed from shock, hitting his arm. “I do not sound like that.”
Taehyung laughed heartily, “In all seriousness. I’ve seen how your face lights up whenever he talks to you during our breaks. Sometimes it’s as if none of us can enter your little conversation. But it’s cute, I’m honestly surprised you guys aren’t dating yet.
“Well, it’s because he thinks he’s just a rebound.”
“I’m 100% sure he’s not, it’s been months. It’s been so long and it only looks like you guys will continue to grow closer. Y/N, you should really talk about it with Jungkook. Really tell him how you feel. That poor boy is falling head over heels for you.”
You laughed at that, “Thanks Tae, I’ll talk to Kook about it. Hopefully it goes well.”
“I’m sure it will.” Taehyung grinned, pulling you in for a hug. “Jungkook’s a great guy and he’s lucky to have you.”
“No Tae,” You pulled away, shaking your head, “I’m the lucky one.”
The two of you walked back to the locker room where the team had been freshening up and packing their stuff.
“Jungkook! I didn’t get to congratulate you earlier on.” “Wonder why.” You heard him mutter to himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jungkook looked up to face you and you were taken aback by his cold expression, his warm smile was not visible, and you felt like he didn’t want you there. “Nothing, thanks for coming.” He grabbed his bag and headed out the door. You were confused by his sudden change in behaviour, following after him.
“You good?”
“Yea I am.” He responded without looking at you. You glanced at Taehyung who just shrugged his shoulders in confusion.
“Jungkook, can we talk?”
He turned back and sighed, nodding his head. “Yea we should.”
The rest of the team left the stadium while you guys headed to the outdoor garden area at the front entrance. “Is something wrong?” You asked the moment you guys were alone. Most of the public that came for the matches today had already gone home and there was no one else at the small garden.
Jungkook shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Okay... Then why did you say, “we should” when I asked if we could talk?”
He didn’t reply immediately, and you gave him the liberty to form a response. “When you said “good terms” with Taehyung, how good was your “good”?”
You were confused by his question and wondered why he brought up Taehyung. You furrowed your eyebrows, “Um, good as in we’re friends again?”
He scoffed, looking down at his shoes, “Just friends?”
“Yes. What are you trying to imply?”
“I went out to the toilet earlier on and passed by you and Taehyung sitting together alone, hugging.” 
Shit, he misunderstood.
“It was nothing, we were just talking… Also, friends hug too. You and I hug as well, why are you implying that it’s more than just friends?”
To be frank, you were getting offended and annoyed by Jungkook’s accusations, especially knowing that Jungkook was the one you liked and not Taehyung.
Jungkook finally changed his direction to face you, his body posture appearing hostile towards you. “I never said this, but I couldn’t understand how you just forgave Taehyung after what happened and you guys are ‘friends’ again, unless you still have feeling for him.”
“No, I don’t, and you know that.” You replied agitated. “Is that why you’re suddenly being cold towards me? Because I left to talk with Taehyung, and you saw us hugging? You know there’s nothing going on with Taehyung, why are you getting so worked up over that?”
“Because I like you, damn it!” Jungkook snapped, his eyes mixed with sincerity, hurt and nervousness. You noticed his eyes widening for a split second, as if shocked about what he had just confessed.
With a blink, he continued on, “I’ve liked you for months and I was honestly beginning to think that you felt the same way too. I thought things were going well between us but I suddenly see you hugging Taehyung alone and it just tells me otherwise.”
His tone was laced with hurt and bitterness, you just wanted to prove him wrong - that it was all a misunderstanding. You took a step forward closer to him, “Jungkook! You’ve got it all wrong—“
“How can I read that scene wrongly—“
“I was talking about me liking you to Taehyung!”
It was as if millions of balloons had just burst around you as you both stood frozen momentarily, looking at each other,
You took a deep breath in before continuing, trying not to get emotional. “Yes, I like you. I didn’t know how to bring it up especially after you said how you felt that you were a replacement. I couldn’t stop thinking about it ever since. I’ve been feeling so guilty knowing that that’s how you have been feeling. But I never saw you that way.” Your eyes began to tear up as you were being overwhelmed by the guilt that you have been feeling.
Jungkook noticed it, taking brisk steps towards you, gently reaching out to wipe your tears from your cheeks. “I never got close to you just because I was lonely or needed a replacement. I like you. Heck, Tae could tell for a long time that I like you. But I don’t want to do anything about it, not while you think you’re just a rebound to me.” 
Your chest felt lighter, despite your tears flowing down, it felt good to let Jungkook know how you had been feeling and you felt relieved.  
“Y/N, please don’t cry. I don’t want to see you cry.” He spoke softly, wrapping his arms around you, I’m sorry you’ve been feeling guilty when you shouldn’t be.”
“You shouldn’t be sorry, Kook.” Your voice was muffled as your head was buried in between his neck and shoulder. Despite the small quarrel you just had with Jungkook, you felt happy and safe in his embrace, it felt right, and you didn’t want to let him go.
“I never treated you as a rebound.” You repeated and you felt him nodding his head. He pulled away to cupping his hands on your cheeks, his face told one story - he believed you.
“I believe you, y/n, I do. And I genuinely like you, I don’t want things to mess up with us. Even if that means I can only be your friend, I’m okay with you. I just don’t want to lose you.” 
You shook your head, with a small smile. “Why are you so cheesy.”
He chuckled, “I mean it.”
“I don’t want you to just be a friend. But I don’t want us to rush things either.”
Jungkook nodded his head, “I agree with you 100%. I want us to work out. I don’t want to work things out with anyone else.”
You could feel your heart pounding against your chest more violently than ever. It was as if you were just experiencing your own fairy-tale ending. Though, you knew it was just the beginning.
“Will you go out with me, y/n?”
With an airy laugh, you nodded your head, “Of course I will, Kook.”
A pure happy grin broke out on his face, “I know we agreed to take it slow, but, may I kiss you right know?”
“You’re such a gentleman.” You teased, though nodding your head as you both leaned in carefully, softly pressing your lips together. His soft lips on yours made your heart melt and your mind went blank as you just felt euphoric. His thumb softly caressing your cheeks as he pulled away.
“I’ve been wanting to do that so badly ever since Havana.”
“Hurry up!” Yoongi hollered impatiently as you all ran to his side, huddling up for a group picture. The camera flash went off and you guys pulled away from each other to either give each other a goodbye hug or take individual photos together. Senior year went by in a blink of eye and you had all just walked on stage to get your graduation certificates.
“We did it, y/n. We’re graduates.” Taehyung grinned, pulling you in for a tight hug. You returned the embrace, “We certainly did it Tae, we did it.”
After four years in college, it felt great to have your first friend still by your side, graduating hand in hand.
“Y/N!”
But what felt even better was having the love of your life with you.
Taehyung pulled away, chuckling at the boy who raised his Polaroid camera. “Looks like your boyfriend wants a polaroid picture with you.”
“That’s right.” Jungkook gave a cheeky grin, draping his arm over your shoulder to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.
“Give me the camera, I’ll take it.” Taehyung reached out for the polaroid. Jungkook pulled you even closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and yours around his.
The two of you had taken things relatively slow, sticking to your promise of not wanting to rush things. Eventually, Jungkook had asked you to be his girlfriend and the rest was history. The team had teased you the day he announced to the group, saying how they waited ages for you guys to get together.
Nonetheless, they were all happy for you.
“One, two, three!”
Taehyung took two, one for the each of you. “We look good together, don’t you think?” Jungkook nudged your side, admiring the polaroid picture that had developed. You nodded your head, “We sure do.”
Taehyung had gone to disturb Yoongi for a picture, leaving the two of you alone. Jungkook smiled contently, wrapping his around you in a loose hug. “I love you, y/n.”
“I love you too, Kook.”
Jungkook leaned in for a soft kiss on the lips, “Ready for your Just Dance revenge tonight?” You smirked, “I’m ready for Havana round 2. Maybe you can lift me up this time.”
You felt his chest vibrate as he laughed, “I’ll do that alright, you can count on me.”
I hope you guys liked it, let me know your thoughts and also if you have any requests you’d like me to write!
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