#not targeted at anyone! just felt like i should clear it up maybe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloompompom · 3 months

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Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT

for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...

✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did.

If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor.

“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day.

The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough.

The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target.

The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation.

“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up.

You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.

He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”

If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it.

Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride.

The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom.

You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye.

It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?

Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.

In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.

“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.

Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?”

“That’s you, not me.”

“Only because of you.”

Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.

“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.

Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”

“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.

She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth.

Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove.

After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder.

But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up.

He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week.

So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie.

“Hey.”

Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”

He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation.

You bristled. “What do you want?”

He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”

“No, you can’t.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”

You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.

“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed.

“Who said anything about olives?”

It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.

You sidestepped him to leave.

Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention. He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa.

“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”

Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it.

“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”

That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival.

“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”

You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”

On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.

What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined.

Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.

Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace.

“How did you know this was up here?” you asked.

“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”

The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.

“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”

As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered.

“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.

You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.

You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside.

The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches.

You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes.

After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago.

Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.

What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore.

Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.

Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.

Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him.

Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice.

Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss.

You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.

You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze?

Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?

Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you.

It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?

“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”

You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”

You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.

“Something like that.”

If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore.

Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt his words vibrate against your ear.

“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”

Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat.

You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”

You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well.

“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”

He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is.

You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap.

“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.

Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”

He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”

You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.

“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”

“Still do,” you muttered.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly?

No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this.

A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”

Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.

You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self.

The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing.

At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did.

“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.

When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it.

Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his.

Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.

You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once.

Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him.

When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy.

He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.

Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples.

He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.

His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling.

Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it.

Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.

You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended.

His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye.

“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”

Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.

“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.

“You asked.”

You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too.

You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you.

You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.

The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you.

You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss.

Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.

A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan.

“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway.

Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him.

He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements.

Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.

Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.

Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.

With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination.

You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.

“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.

Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.

You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft.

Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half.

You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about.

More. You needed more.

You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you.

You grabbed his wrist.

“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”

A biting smile crossed Eren’s face.

“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”

You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.

You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”

You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.

He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.

“You’re probably right,” he said casually.

Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.

You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.

But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.

“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.

Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it.

He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms.

He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.

You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength.

You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it.

Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.

Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck.

“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.

You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm.

You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek.

“I can’t hear you.”

He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant.

You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him.

“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it.

You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.

Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.

Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.

“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”

The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit

“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”

The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you.

Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”

Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.

“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”

“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care.

Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.

His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard.

If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.

You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.

Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”

“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.

You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”

There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.

“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once.

There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”

“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”

You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”

He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”

You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.

as always, thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #aot x reader

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mymoonagedaydream · 1 year

Text

Summary: After the incident things were looking pretty bleak, but the one thing you thought would make everything worse ended up saving you.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of guns and gun violence

Author’s Note: So I wrote a one shot because I cannot, for the life of me, stick to a consistent writing schedule. Enjoy!

---

You never expected anyone to feel sorry for you. That had been a pretty consistent theme throughout your life, why would anyone feel sorry for the kid who got everything they asked for? Granted, the only things in your past that might have sparked an ounce of pity were trivial, like a broken ankle or a bad break up, but even after this mess you never expected much.

It'd been a few months now since it happened, either two or three, you weren't sure exactly- enough time for seemingly everyone you'd ever met to show up and implore you to tell the story over and over again. One or two of them did appear genuinely concerned but you couldn't shake the feeling that most of them just wanted the gossip, desperate for anything to make them the most interesting person in the room at their next garden party or champagne brunch or ambassador's reception. Every single painful, repetitive, disingenuous conversation you had to sit through served as a further reminder of why you’d left this life behind as soon as you had the chance. Now you were stuck back here for god knows how much longer, and everything just felt bleak.

A soft knock rapped against your bedroom door. You didn't bother answering, they'd just let themselves in, they always did. The knob turned and the door creaked open, your father's timid face peering in.

“Are you busy?” It was nice of him to ask, but it was also unnecessary, because you hadn’t left your couch to do anything other than pee in weeks. “Your aunt Carol is here. She brought you some gifts, I thought it might make you feel better.”

Both of you knew very well that it would have the opposite effect, the only thing you'd ever resented your mother for was bringing that vapid bitch into your life. Well, that and accidentally letting slip that the tooth fairy wasn’t real on your third birthday.

Carol careered round the door and past your father in her typical pantomime dame dress and makeup. You smirked, thinking to yourself that, in dimmer light and with some sinister music, it would've made an excellent scene for a horror film. Ever since your mother passed she’d been sniffing around the house more and more, you were convinced she was trying to seduce your dad to get his money but you couldn't prove it. Thankfully, he had enough sense to stay the hell away from her.

“Oh, look at you, you poor thing. You look awful.” She clunked the wrapped box and card she was holding down on the table and joined you on the couch, her offensive perfume making your nose begin to itch. “Come on, auntie Carol is here for you now, tell me everything darling.”

You gave your father, who was standing by the door looking very apologetic, a harsh glare.

“There's not much to tell. Dad was mid-speech when some guy in the audience stood up, next thing I knew he was getting tackled and there was a loud bang. I look down and I'm bleeding.”

“Oh my, who was he?”

“Just some crazy, nationalist, militia guy targeting politicians, apparently. They have no idea if he was alone or with a group so it’s safer for me to stay here for now. My apartment is too much of a risk.”

“Bless you. It's so difficult being in the public eye, but you are so brave.” She pointed down to your stomach, “and don't worry, I've got some magic serum that'll clear up any unsightly scars ready for bikini season. I'll send you my diet plan, too.”

You turned the dial up on the daggers you were shooting your father every time she looked away, and he finally took the hint.

“Okay, Carol. We should let her rest now.”

“Alright, love you so much baby. Look after yourself, okay? Maybe run a comb through your hair or something. Very frizzy.”

You rolled your eyes at her back as she left and reached over to grab the card. There was a sad puppy on the front, sitting beneath the words sorry you’re having a hard time. You figured that Hallmark probably didn't stock a sorry you got shot by a psychopath card.

Your father was lingering. He never lingered.

“Everything okay, dad?”

“Yes. Although, there is something I need to tell you.”

“Go on.”

“I've hired someone.”

“Right.”

“For you,” he noted your confusion, “to protect you.”

“A bodyguard?”

“No, he's not a bodyguard.” You raised an eyebrow. “He's not just a bodyguard.”

“The hell does that mean?”

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Wiping the sweat from his palms onto his trousers, he strode over and took a seat beside you, preparing himself with a deep breath. This was serious.

“The last time you saw Dr Burke she recommended that we… don't leave you on your own too much. So, he's going to be looking out for your welfare, going to be spending time with you.”

“Ah, I see. Suicide watch. Great.”

“I’m worried about you. You barely eat, you don't move from that spot, you haven’t showered for weeks. I know you miss being in your own place but,” he put his hand on top of yours, “I’ve already lost your mother, I can’t lose you too.”

Well, that hit you like a punch in the gut.

“Okay, dad. If you think it’ll help.”

“I do.” He stood up, giving you a light kiss on the top of your head before turning to leave. “He’ll be here in a few hours.”

---

You were woken from a light sleep by another knock on the door. The only thing you hadn’t been struggling with recently was sleep, it was the only way you could make your days pass quicker.

Again, the door creaked open before you answered. Your dad stepped in followed by a man you assumed to be your new long-term babysitter. You’d expected someone more stern looking, someone dressed like an extra from Men in Black, but he just looked like a normal guy. He had a strong face, broad shoulders and deep brown hair. If you’d been in a different state of mind you might even have considered him attractive, but you were far too tired for anything like that.

“Sweetheart, this is-” Your father looked blankly over to his companion, obviously already having forgotten his name.

“James. Nice to meet you.”

You mustered a faint smile. There was a brief, awkward silence as your father’s eyes flicked from you back to the composed looking guest, whose huge arms were folded over his chest.

“Well, uh- I have a call in a few minutes. I suppose I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” he clapped a hand on James’ back, “just let me know if you need anything.”

Then, just like that, you were alone with a complete stranger. Your eyes stayed firmly fixed to the movie you’d slept through half of but were suddenly incredibly interested in. You heard James shuffle forwards, his broad frame eventually scooching into the edge of your vision.

“Look, I get it. You’re a grown-ass adult, I wouldn’t like having some stranger keeping an eye on me all the time either. If you want, I can just stick to the corner, stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here.”

That actually sounded like a pretty sweet deal, but you’d feel incredibly guilty having him perched on the other side of the room like a piece of furniture. The least you could do was be a little friendly.

“That’s alright, you can have the comfy seat,” you faintly motioned your head towards the nearby armchair, “but I’ll be shitty company.”

He happily settled himself in. “Makes no odds to me, I’m getting paid to be here.”

A short breathy chuckle escaped your lips, taking you by surprise. It’d been a long while since someone had made you laugh, all the conversations you’d had in the past few weeks had been unbelievably morbid and condescending, most of them with people you had no interest in talking to in the first place.

A couple of silent hours passed. You‘d gotten so used to being alone that you kept forgetting he was there, the odd cough or movement making you jump out of your skin. Eventually, Elaine pounded on the door and announced that she’d brought dinner up for both of you, so James jumped up and helped her with the cart.

Elaine was your father’s housekeeper and the only thing that had prevented him dying of starvation or exposure since your mom died. She was kind and patient, you liked her alot. Her food was always incredible, you felt awful for barely eating it over the last few weeks but the pain from your stomach wound combined with zero expenditure of energy had just killed your appetite.

James looked from his plate over to yours, his knife and fork poised. “You not eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“When’s the last time you ate anything?”

Someone had been talking to dad.

You shrugged. “This morning, I think.”

“Bullshit.” Your eyes snapped in his direction. “You know you’re not gonna get any better if you don’t eat, right? You’ll just have to put up with me bugging you for even longer.”

“Thought you were gonna stay out my way?”

“Mostly.” His mouth curled into a faint smile. “How about this, you eat a couple bites, I’ll eat the rest and we’ll tell your dad you ate the whole thing.”

You considered for a second. Not a bad offer, getting your dad off your back for a while would be pretty great. You knew what game he was playing but you were more than willing to play too just as long as the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.

“Deal.”

You expended a tremendous amount of effort leaning yourself forward and grabbing the plate, feeling James’ gaze tunnelling into the side of your face as the two of you began to eat. You had to admit, you enjoyed the food much more than you’d expected, half the plate had gone before you felt full. James looked pretty smug while finishing off the rest of it.

The sky outside slowly turned dark and you could feel yourself getting sleepy, so you settled deeper into the couch for your third sleep of the day.

“Hey,” James leant forward in his seat, “you need help getting to your bed or anything?”

“Oh, no, I’m good. I usually just sleep here.”

He gave you a puzzled look. “There? Is that comfortable? Can’t be good for your back.”

“Probably isn’t, but I don’t have the energy to move.”

“You don’t need the energy,” he sprung up from his seat, “you’ve got me.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, James had an arm anchored around your upper back and was inching you upwards, away from the safety of your sad-zone and onto your feet. A few mild pangs of pain shot through your stomach but it wasn’t enough to make you fight back, so you just gave in, relaxed into his grip and let him walk you across the room.

Your mattress was unbelievably comfortable and you felt knot after knot untying in your back as you stretched out flat, but you didn’t need to tell him that. Who was this magical asshole, anyway, showing up and suddenly knowing what would help you better than you did?

“I’m just gonna crash on that armchair, if that’s all good with you.”

“There?” You carefully rolled onto your side so you were facing away from him. “Can’t be good for your back.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you. “Smartass. Shout me if you need to go to the bathroom or anything.”

You just grunted, already half asleep. It was only another minute or so before you drifted off peacefully and got the best night of rest you’d had in weeks.

Maybe this babysitting thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

You woke to the sound of soft snoring on the other side of the room. Light was bleeding in around the curtains and you could hear footsteps in the corridor, probably your father heading downstairs for his coffee and newspaper. Coming to your senses, you rolled over and suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pee. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked over to see James’ limp hand hanging over the edge of the armchair.

You didn’t need him, you could do this.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and hoisting yourself up was easier than expected but that, unfortunately, made you a little overconfident for the rest of the journey. After a couple of steps the pain started. You felt pathetic but that amount of effort had actually winded you, all you could do was lower yourself to the ground to catch your breath.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You didn’t even realise he’d woken up, you were too busy wheezing.

“Gotta pee.” You managed to push your words out between gulped in breaths.

“What did I say last night, huh? You should’a yelled.” He lowered himself beside you, placing one arm around your back and one under your knees. “Alright, brace yourself.”

“Wait, what are you-”

You choked on your words when he lifted you clean off the floor, a feat that not many had accomplished in the past. He offered to take you as far as the toilet itself but you adamantly refused, determined to cling onto your last shred of dignity while just about managing to shuffle over there, supporting yourself on the sink.

You washed your hands and intentionally avoided looking in the mirror, moving straight over to the door and finding your minder stood directly outside.

He folded his arms. “While you’re here, why not take a quick shower?”

“I’m not supposed to get my dressings wet.”

“Again, nice try, but you really gotta do better than that to bullshit me.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let me rot away in peace?”

“I mean, I could, but I’m pretty sure your dad would refuse to pay me.”

“I’ll pay you to leave me alone.”

“You can’t afford me, honey.” He smirked and slipped past you. “I’ll get the water going.”

James turned the shower on and put some folded towels by the sink before heading back into your room and gathering some clean pyjamas. You just stayed where you were, leaning against the counter, as he buzzed around like an overexcited child.

“You’re all set. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Thank you, supernanny.”

He flipped you the bird. You laughed and locked the door.

Slowly, carefully, you got undressed, removed your bandages and placed them in the bin. You then had to perch yourself down on the closed toilet seat for a brief break before climbing into the shower. Standing under the water, you looked down at your wound for the first time in weeks, finding yourself amazed at how quickly it had healed. You ran your fingers over it. Never in a million years did you think you’d have a healed gunshot wound anywhere on your body. You thought back to what your aunt said, maybe it was unsightly, it certainly looked weird from this ang-

“You alright?”

James’ overbearing voice snapped you out of your train of thought.

“Yes.”

You turned off the shower and stepped out, lifting a towel to your face and savouring the feeling of finally being clean again. You couldn’t imagine how bad you must’ve smelled before. You pulled on the fresh pyjamas before taking a deep breath and wiping down the mirror, getting a nasty shock when you saw yourself. It looked like all the life had been drained out of you. Your face looked pallid, red eyes sitting above deep, dark bags while skin flaked from your chapped lips. Your hair was still dripping wet but you could tell that weeks of neglect had taken a toll on it.

It seemed like James might’ve come along just in time, any longer sitting in that misery pit and these changes might’ve become irreversible.

“Still all good?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, just trying to remember the most efficient way to cut wrists. Is it horizontal or vertical?”

Throwing your towel in the laundry basket, you opened the door to see a very unamused looking man.

“Real funny.”

He didn’t get a chance to properly scold you before Elaine knocked on the door with breakfast, a smug grin settling on your face as it dawned on him that he probably shouldn’t cuss you out in front of your father’s closest confidante.

The two of you settled into your designated spots. James immediately started digging into the plate that had been piled high for him but you held off, it had been a while since you stood up for that long and you needed to recover. Sharp pangs of stomach pain weren’t exactly the perfect accompaniment to a hearty appetite.

James placed his fork down on the table and leaned back in his chair, mouth full of food. “We gotta do this again, buttercup?”

“I just need a minute.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“We did,” a bolt of inspiration struck as you realised it was your turn to get a little something interesting out of this relationship, “but I want to change it up a bit.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I’ll eat if you tell me the most insane thing that’s happened to you while bodyguarding.”

“I really shouldn’t talk about that.”

“Shame,” you dramatically pushed your plate away with a flourish, “I was actually feeling pretty hungry.”

He considered, glaring at you from beneath an arched eyebrow and rhythmically tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Fine, but you gotta finish the whole plate.”

“The whole plate.”

“Alright.”

He leant forward again and carried on eating so you followed suit, forcing down one small bite at a time and just hoping that his story would be worth the pain.

“So, one time some rich dude hired me ‘cause his daughter was worried she had a stalker. Apparently she kept seeing someone in a black hoodie following her around, she even saw ‘em standing on their lawn a few times. Thing is, no-one else had ever seen it. I think half the reason I was hired was to figure out if she was just going crazy.”

“Was she?”

“Be patient, pumpkin. You’ll find out.” Your cheeks flushed a little when he called you that. “A couple weeks passed and I hadn’t seen anything. Then, middle of the night, everyone else was asleep and I was doing my rounds. I looked out the window to the yard and there was someone standing underneath her window in a black hoodie.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. So, obviously, I sprinted down there, but they spotted me and started running. They vaulted the fence and I would’a lost ‘em in the trees but they got snagged on the other side. I grabbed ‘em, pulled down the hood and-” He eyed the huge fork-full of food you were hovering by your mouth, “you wanna eat that?”

You rolled your eyes, shoved it all in your face and let out a muffled plea. “And?”

“It was her, the daughter.”

“Fuck off.”

“Dead serious. Turns out one of her friends had a stalker and was getting a load of sympathy and attention because of it, so she got jealous and made up one of her own. She figured if I saw it just once everyone would believe her.”

“That’s so fucked. Is that even legal?”

“No idea, not my job. I got my paycheck and left the next morning.”

“Nice to know you really care about your clients.”

He laughed. “Most of my clients are spoiled assholes who never even bother to learn my name.”

“Really? Can’t be hard to learn a name as simple as Justin.” You received your second unamused scowl of the day. “Anyway, we spoiled brats have enough on our plate without having to learn the name of the person willing to take a bullet for us.”

“Nah, you’re not spoiled.”

“You think?”

“Trust me, I’ve seen spoiled. You’re not spoiled. I think you’re the only client I’ve actually enjoyed talking to.”

Interesting. Probably shouldn’t delve into that statement too deeply.

“I’d take that as a compliment but it sounds like there isn’t much competition.”

He smirked, staying silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “My friends call me Bucky, by the way. I prefer it to James. And I really prefer it to Justin.”

“If you insist,” you shrugged, “but I still think you’d make a good Timberlake.”

---

You managed to stomach a good amount of food that day and you even had a good stab at breakfast when the next day rolled around, so you hoped that Bucky might leave you to your own devices for a while now he’d got his own way.

He did not.

As soon as you’d swallowed the last mouthful of toast he announced that he was going to take you on a walk around the garden.

You looked from him to your stomach, then back at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We’ll take it slow, one step at a time, and it’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

“Can’t we just open a window?”

“Nope.” He slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair and jumped to his feet. “C’mon sweetheart, you know I’m just gonna annoy the hell out of you until you agree.”

“Is threatening me allowed in your contract?”

“It’s not a threat. It’s persuasion with consequences.”

You eventually relented. He was super keen to get going but it soon became clear that he’d overestimated how far along the healing process you were, it took the two of you almost an hour just to get out of your bedroom and down the stairs with all the constant stopping for breath. Bucky went ahead and pulled open the sliding glass door, your mood instantly lifting when the first breeze of fresh air washed over you. You were starting to hate how often he was right.

He offered you his arm and set a bench on the other side of the lawn as your goal. The neatly mowed grass felt soft between your toes, the faint sounds of birds and planes overhead helping you relax a great deal more than the constant background noise from the TV you’d kept switched on for weeks now. When you reached your goal, Bucky helped you lower yourself onto the seat and carefully squeezed himself beside you once you were settled. Sitting this close to him felt strange, you were used to him being confined to his armchair, and the bench was a pretty small one. His thigh was pressed up against yours. You tried not to think about it.

Deeply inhaling the smell of grass and flowers into your lungs made you feel like a new person but it was also making you a little drowsy, the journey down had zapped all your energy and the warmth from the morning sun was cosy and soothing.

The next thing you remembered was your head being gently nudged, prompting your eyes to flicker open.

“Sorry, princess. I’d let you sleep for hours but I really need to pee.”

You came to your senses and felt the crook of Bucky’s neck against the top of your head. His arm was around you, hand gently resting on your shoulder.

“Shit, sorry.” In your embarrassment you sat up a little too quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through your stomach.

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Just, y’know, the ol’ bullet would.” You laughed off his concern and waved him away. “Go pee.”

“Alright, I’ll just be a minute, don’t move.”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

He was already sprinting across the lawn when he shouted back. “That’s the spirit, sunshine.”

You shot a giddy grin at the back of his head. It still felt like morning but you had no idea how long you’d been knocked out for, you just knew you could very easily spend every night resting in Bucky’s neck like that.

---

Your shadow had been with you for about a week now and, contrary to all initial expectations, you’d actually been enjoying his company. He could be annoying as hell with his constant demands pushing you further and further when all you wanted to do was melt into the couch, but you could see that he was good for you. You supposed that being forced to spend every second of every day with someone gave you no choice but to recognize their good qualities. Thankfully, he seemed to have a lot of those.

Elaine had just collected the dishes from lunch and Bucky had somehow stolen the remote from you. He flicked on some appallingly trashy reality show, your concentration faded in and out but every time you forced yourself to pay attention someone was either screaming or necking.

You’d barely even registered the knock at your bedroom door when he jumped up and launched himself towards it like the diligent little soldier he was. You listened intently, your stomach turning when you heard Carol’s voice interspersed with his. Hopefully he’d assess her as a security threat and slam the door in her stupid face.

To your great disappointment, he did not.

“Oh my,” she looked a little more like a painted old hag than a pantomime dame today, “who is that and where can I get one?”

“That’s James, dad hired him to keep an eye on me.”

“Do you know which agency he’s with?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t uncle Frank leave you the house and the security guard in his will?”

“Ugh, yes but he could’ve been a bit more thoughtful. I’d rather not have to look at that beer belly every time I drive through the front gate.”

“I see.”

You tried to plead for help from Bucky with your eyes but he was too busy giving a confused look to the back of her embroidered jacket, the one that you were convinced had been made from old curtains and lampshade tassels. She placed herself down in his seat, leaving him bewildered, turning on the spot like a glitched out video game NPC. He eventually just sat beside you.

“So,” she crossed her veiny old legs, “did you like the present I brought you before?”

You did not like the present she brought you before. It was a self help book whose blurb encouraged you to 'break free from your own mental cage' and 'start being the best version of you'. That mindset is incredibly toxic, Carol. Therapists and antidepressants exist for a reason, Carol. Not everyone can make themselves feel better by getting sloppy wine drunk on their dead husband's money every evening, Carol.

“Yeah, it was great. Thanks.”

“I knew you'd love it, so I brought you something else.” She scurried around in her comically oversized purse for a while before pulling out a small white tub. “It's that miracle balm I told you about, for the scar.”

She noiselessly mouthed the word scar and covered the side of her mouth so Bucky couldn't see, like it was a dirty word, like she couldn't bear to think of the handsome man in the room knowing about such an ugly thing.

“Oh right, thanks but I'm not really supposed to put anything on it while it's still healing. Could get infected.”

“No honey, if you let that thing heal on its own you'll regret it, trust me.”

“Well, the doctor said-”

“Baby, look at me.” The legs became uncrossed as she leaned in. “I'm going to be honest now because I love you. Your body is a five out of ten, maybe a six if you did a cleanse.”

“Right…”

“Now, with this hideous thing sitting on your stomach, you're down to a three. I don't want that for you, do you?”

You were speechless for a second. The words fuck off were just beginning to form in your mouth when she cut you off, turning her attention to the equally pissed looking Bucky.

“How about a man's perspective, hmm? You wouldn't want a partner with something so ghastly on them, would you?”

The calmness with which he answered her was pretty impressive.

“Well, to be honest, I couldn't give a fuck, cause I tend to rate personality higher. Like you, for example, are two out of ten but with a few lessons in grace and courtesy, I could see you moving up to a solid five.”

Your mouth fell open. The breath hitched in your lungs as your eyes flicked between the two of them, one looking outraged, the other looking very fucking pleased with himself. The silence was tense.

After a few seconds she leapt up and stormed out of the room, her heels rapidly clicking against the floor while she screeched your father's name.

Bucky just shrugged at you. “Guess her own medicine didn’t taste too sweet.”

“That was amazing.”

“I'm used to dealing with assholes like that,” he followed her lead, standing up and heading for the door, “but, unlucky for her, I'm in charge of who gets access to this room.”

“You can ban her?”

“If I think she's causing you harm I can do whatever I want.”

“You’re my new favourite person.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

He’d been gone for a while when some muffled shouting started downstairs. Too invested in the situation not to investigate, you decided to slide yourself off the couch and press your ear to the floor in an effort to make out the words. It didn’t work, obviously, and you soon realised there was no way in hell you’d be able to hoist yourself back up again. You just had to wait on the ground while your dignity slowly drained away piece by piece.

Bucky eventually returned, predictably freaking out when he spotted you.

“Shit, what happened? Did you fall?”

“No I kinda… slid.” He gave you a puzzled look while lifting you back onto the couch. “Sorry, I was trying to hear the argument. What happened?”

“She won't be bothering you again.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Can I keep you forever?” You rested your head against the couch cushions. “I’ll let you watch as much trash TV as you want.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

---

A week passed and then another, and with each day you were achieving more and more. Bucky had you showering every day, eating three square meals and taking increasingly lengthy walks around the garden- when your painkillers were doing their job. He’d even spoken to your father about making sure everyone in the house waited for a response after knocking on your door. It sounded like an insignificant thing but you really valued every ounce of privacy you could get your hands on, and it did wonders for improving your mood.

Another thing that was helping in that regard was spending most of your downtime just talking with him. On more than a few occasions you’d actually forgotten he was being paid to stick around, it felt more like you were hanging out with an old friend.

Sometimes it felt like you were hanging out with more than a friend but, every time those feelings started to surface, you quickly pushed them back down into the dark depths in your mind. Acknowledging them would just set you up for inevitable disappointment.

Today, you’d agreed to leave your father’s property for the first time since the incident. Bucky had offered to take you out for a coffee as a soft reintroduction back into the normal world. He drove you out in his ridiculously oversized SUV, passing plenty of perfectly good coffee shops so he could show you his favourite one. It didn’t look like anything special but you trusted him.

He helped you to one of the outside tables, took your order and shuffled inside, giving you a wink over the top of his sunglasses. You rested your hands on the table and glanced around. The street was busy with people and cars and most of the other tables were full, it was midday so you figured most of them were working people taking their lunch breaks.

Then, just for a second, out of the corner of your eye you saw someone in the street stop. Looking over, you made brief eye contact with them before they checked their watch and continued walking. Why were they looking at you? Your eyes darted around the other faces passing by, your panic starting to rise when another of them looked your way.

You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your palms prickling with sweat. The quickening pace of your heart made it harder and harder to pull breath into your lungs, all the muscles in your legs started to tense and your vision blurred at the edges.

“You okay?”

Two takeout cups were hastily abandoned on the table in front of you and a soothing hand landed on your back, Bucky’s face trying to make its way into your line of sight.

“Mhmm.”

“I told you not to bullshit me. What happened?”

“Nothing, really. I just-” You pulled in a stuttering breath. “Need to adjust.”

“Pretty hard to do that when you’re mid panic attack, no? C’mere.”

He turned you round to face him and took you through some breathing exercises, helping you get back in control. The worst of the storm eventually passed but you were pretty shaken up, and he could tell.

“Maybe this was too soon.”

“No, this is good. It probably would’ve happened even if we'd waited longer. Better to get it out of the way.”

“And what if the coffee had taken another ten minutes? You would’a just passed out while I was waiting for fucking milk to foam.”

He seemed angry, but not at you.

“It’s okay, Buck. Really. I could’ve been hit by a truck on the walk over from the car but wasn’t, so why worry about it.”

“Still, we should get you somewhere less crowded,” he took you by the hand, which was unusual, cause he usually just guided you with a flat palm on the back, “probably should’ve started with that.”

You headed back to the car, Bucky somehow juggling you along with two hot drinks, and drove a few miles out of the city. He said he knew of a short, flat hiking trail out in the woods that was only ever busy on weekends. It wasn’t exactly the reintroduction into society that the two of you had planned but, at the very least, it was a step above walks around the yard.

He calmed down once you began walking, the jolly, laid back, Bucky that you were used to quickly resurfacing. It was a huge relief, him being on edge made you on edge and that wasn’t exactly the optimum mood for avoiding another panic attack.

He kept a firm arm around you most of the way, anchoring you to him and protecting you against potential falls. You were pretty sure they were the only reasons.

“I must look fucking dreadful,” you chuckled, “if we bump into anyone they’ll probably think you just found me in the woods.”

“Shut up, you look great.”

“For a three-week-old corpse.”

“A corpse wouldn’t argue back so much.”

“I’m just keeping you on your toes.”

“Damn right you are.”

You smiled to yourself, hearing the warmth in his voice, and decided now was a good time to finally ask him a question you’d been thinking about for a while.

“So, you’ve really never had another client you’ve enjoyed talking to? Not even one?”

“Not that I can remember.” He shrugged slightly. “Why are you so surprised, anyway? We both know how many assholes there are out there.”

“True. I just think you’re easy to talk to, I guess. I’m surprised no-one else made the effort.”

“That’s sweet of you doll, but you should know that just letting me sit by you was completely new for me. I usually don’t even get a chair, never mind a conversation.”

“Brutal. I’m glad the shelter rehomed you with us.”

“Me too.”

You laughed for a second before realising that all this talking had used up your pitiful lung capacity. You came to a stop, Bucky quickly moving to stand in front of you.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I could just use a break.”

“Take as long as you need,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, “we can sit for a while if you want.”

“I’m good.”

Without thinking, you placed both hands on his chest to steady yourself, immediately realising that it was kind of a weird thing to do. Your eyes shot up to his but he was just smiling softly, seemingly unbothered.

The two of you held that position for what felt like an age.

Then, slowly, cautiously, his hands moved down to rest on your lower back, just above your hips. He stepped in closer and your hands tensed, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt. He lowered his head, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. You eagerly reciprocated, curling a hand around the back of his neck in a feeble attempt to keep him there as long as you could. It fell, however, when he abruptly pulled away, your arms going limp at your sides.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay, I-”

“It’s not. Jesus, I’m supposed to be looking after you.” He rubbed his eyes. “We should get back.”

“Can you just wait for a second? I’m not-”

“No.” He was stern, he’d never talked to you like that before. “We’re going back to the car, now.”

You were too shocked to argue. The walk back was tense and the drive home was the same, you looked over at him a few times but his stony expression encouraged you to keep quiet. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had he in your eyes, but you really had to keep reminding yourself of that. It felt like you’d committed a crime.

Once home, you headed up to your room but he didn’t follow, which was unusual. When your father knocked on your door later and told you that Bucky had removed himself from duty, you weren’t surprised. He claimed that a big job had come up out of nowhere.

He never even said goodbye.

---

You hadn’t so much as heard from Bucky since he left over a month ago. You’d maintained all his rituals and kept your healing process on track, adapting your daily walks so you could do them alone, sticking nearby walls and railings. It was a real struggle, emotionally and physically, but you were determined not to let him abandoning you knock you off course. You didn’t even let yourself cry when he left. You were just angry.

So, naturally, when a chance for you to prove to yourself how far you’d progressed without him came around, you jumped at it. A friend of your father’s was throwing a birthday party for his daughter, you’d never been able to stand her but you hadn’t had a proper drink since the incident- and the booze there would be insanely expensive stuff. Plus, you’d been pining for any excuse to wear something other than pyjamas.

You strolled into the party, arm in arm with your father, and you felt good. You felt ready to be there. That was, until you saw who was working security detail. You barely recognised him in the full black bodyguard suit, you were so used to a t-shirt and jeans, but it was definitely him. Your evening was instantly ruined as you started mentally plotting the best way to avoid him.

You decided a good first step was to head straight to the bathroom to compose yourself, giving yourself the same pep talk in the mirror that you’d given the day after he left. You’d come too far to let him fuck up your first big outing. You dabbed the nervous sweat from your upper lip, adjusted your outfit and gave yourself a nod. You could do this. You just needed to stay away.

Wandering back into the party, you looked around for your father, the only person in the room you had any interest in talking to. You heard your name being called over the music and turned towards it. There he was, standing beside Bucky, beckoning you over.

So your plan was fucked, then.

Your stomach tightened. You grabbed a drink from a nearby table and moved over reluctantly.

“There you are. Listen, James was just telling me about the big job he was called to, it sounds incredibly interesting.”

“Oh, really?”

You took a big gulp of champagne, wondering if Bucky’s fictitious story was as good as the real one he’d told you over breakfast that time. Or maybe that one was all made up, too. You glanced over and accidentally caught his eye for a second, but he quickly broke away and looked back at your father.

“I probably shouldn’t go into any more detail.”

“Of course not, I wouldn't want you getting in trouble.” You involuntarily scoffed at your father’s words but managed to play it off as a cough. “It’s such a shame, though. You two seemed to really be getting on well together.”

Your father looked back and forth between the two of you like he was watching a tennis match, unaware of how painfully awkward the lingering silence was. You finished off your champagne and grabbed a fresh glass from a passing waiter, looking around the room for any excuse to leave this conversation. Unfortunately, your father found one first.

“Ah, there’s the birthday girl, I’d better go pass on some well wishes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

You cringed as he walked away. Quickly deciding that it was better to not even attempt conversation, you just silently nodded at Bucky and turned to leave. You didn’t get far, however, as he grabbed hold of your arm and stepped towards you.

“Can we talk?”

You were incredibly shocked but tried to play it off. “I guess."

“In private?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you glared down at his hand, “but I would like it if you let go of my arm.”

“Sorry.”

He released his grip and you took a small step away, putting a safe distance between your faces. You were still pissed off at him, that much was for sure, but you weren’t ready to trust yourself being in such close proximity to him again. Anything could happen.

“I get why you’re pissed at me, I would be too. I just need to explain.”

“I know why you did what you did, Buck. You don’t need-”

“Please. Someone’s taking over my shift in ten minutes, will you meet me upstairs?”

“Upstairs? Like, past the rope with the big no guests allowed sign?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to sneak past,” he smirked slightly, “I heard the security here sucks.”

He was right, too. You got up there with absolutely no trouble whatsoever.

All of the doors off the hallway were closed apart from one, at the very end. You took a gamble and slowly approached, peeking your head round to see Bucky perched on the edge of a huge bed. He shot up when he spotted you in the doorway.

“Sorry, I know this is kinda weird, it's the only room that wasn’t locked or, y’know… occupied.”

“Lovely.”

He nodded and gave you a smile. “You look great. Amazing, actually. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” his smile melted you a little, “mostly thanks to you.”

“Ah, you would’a been fine, I just annoyed you into being fine a bit sooner.”

You nervously rubbed the back of your head, in disbelief at how quickly he’d broken through your thick wall of resentment. You scrambled around trying to gather up some of the bricks and rebuild but being in the presence of that slick motherfucker was making it really difficult.

You gathered your thoughts, took a breath and spoke.

“Buck, like I said downstairs, you don’t need to explain. Obviously making out with your clients is a fireable offence, I get that, so you had to leave. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“You think I left ‘cause of that? You think some shitty job is more important to me than you?”

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

“Jesus, I really am an asshole.” You gave him a confused frown as he reached out and took both of your hands in his. “Look, I couldn’t give a shit about this job, there’s bodyguarding positions everywhere and most of them don’t involve babysitting rich assholes. I left ‘cause I felt like I’d taken advantage of you. I couldn’t stand it.”

“Huh?”

“You were in a bad place. You were vulnerable and I was supposed to be looking after you, not- y’know...”

“Sucking face?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Right, but you do remember that I’m not a child, yeah? Just because I’m feeling shitty doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions for myself.”

“But it does mean your judgement is at least a little impaired.”

“Fine, whatever, but it isn’t anymore.” You squeezed his hands. “And I’m telling you now as a fully sane, rational adult that you didn’t do anything wrong. Alright?”

A relieved smile spread across his face. “Alright.”

“Good, cause I made a decision and I’m sticking to it.

“Might be a bad decision.”

“Sometimes bad decisions are more fun.”

“You can say that again.”

Your second kiss with Bucky was, somehow, even better. He was more sure of himself this time, less cautious, he moved in quicker. You did the same, wrapping both arms around his neck and letting him take some of your weight. You felt him smile against you as a hand dived into the back of your hair.

Now this was a kiss worth being fired for.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “For the record, the first time wasn’t a mistake. It was a… happy accident.”

“Whatever you say,” you chuckled, “I’m just glad we bumped into each other again.”

“Oh, we didn’t. I took this job after checking the guestlist.”

“You sneaky fucker.”

“You know it.”

---

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ephemeral--dreams · 1 year

Text

Alhaitham, Cyno, Kokomi; when you get injured.

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Alhaitham

He had anticipated an average day. Showing up to work, finishing whatever he needed to, and then spending his time reading for the remainder of the afternoon.

In other words, he hadn't thought he'd be wrestling answers out of a pair of scholars after hearing your name in passing.

"Do you want to tell me why I had to find out you were injured through gossip?" Is the first thing Alhaitham asks as he enters the room, tone fairly neutral despite the accusatory nature of his words. You blink at him from where you sit, covered in bandages, but awake and aware, at least. Not as bad as he'd worried it would be.

If he was more prone to outbursts of emotion, he might've burst in here and scolded you. He might've felt panic when he'd found out you were hurt. He might've been relieved when he found you seemed to be relatively okay.

…Alhaitham tells himself he felt none of that.

"…I didn't want to bother you. You get annoyed when you get interrupted unnecessarily, right?"

He falls silent. So that was it. You weren't wrong, exactly, but… He'd hardly call it an interruption, when it was about your health and safety. He knew he didn't make his emotions obvious, but he'd thought you had enough sense to realize he cared about you. He wouldn't have put up with you being around for so long if he didn't.

"You're an idiot," is all he says, preoccupying himself with making sure you've been taken care of properly, hands brushing surprisingly gently over you. Archons know that the Akademiya is filled with stupid people, even the healers can't be trusted with you… "If you're bothering me, you know I wouldn't hold back on telling you. Don't make needless assumptions."

"Maybe I am. Sorry," you sit patiently as he examines you, his concern unspoken as always, but obvious in his actions. As harsh as he could be at times, it was moments like this in which you were reminded that he could be softer... Occasionally. "I'm okay, really. You don't need to worry."

Alhaitham doesn't quite believe you - the way he watches over you more closely for the next few weeks makes it abundantly clear. But you can't exactly complain about having his attention, even if you had to get hurt for it to happen…

Cyno

Cyno is… Well aware that injuries are something that happen. He faces dangerous situations on a regular basis. Often, he himself is the danger.

This isn't the same, however. As much as he hates anyone else getting injured under his watch, when it's you, it feels exponentially worse. It should never, ever happen. If he could protect criminals from getting hurt in their own stupidity as they ran from him, couldn't he protect you even better?

…Apparently not, considering the pained sounds you let out under your breath and he carried you to get medical attention. This was what he got for getting distracted with work while you were together, wasn't it? Target apprehended, but not without you getting caught up in it all.

"It's only a broken leg, Cyno. You don't need to look so guilty."

"It happened because of me," his voice is tense, just as tense as his arms around you feel.

You don't get the chance to reply, commotion beginning the moment the two of you arrive. Then it's Tighnari fussing over you, Collei's worried face in the background, and no sign of Cyno.

It's not until a few hours later when he shows up, moonlight glinting off his silent form. If you were any less used to his presence, you'd have been startled by how he appeared so suddenly. As it is, you take it in stride.

"I don't blame you, you know, but when you disappear like that I end up being the one who's worried…"

All he can think is - you're far too forgiving. Though perhaps that was why he was drawn to you in the first place. A pure soul, one not infected by a greed for knowledge or money or power, as many around him were. You are too good for him, but here the two of you are, regardless.

You huff at his lack of reply, reaching to take his hand, tugging him closer. "I'm fine, see? Stop brooding and come sit with me. You can even tell me some of your jokes if it'll make you feel better."

You were the one supposed to be getting reassured here… But if it was what you wanted, he'd acquiesce. "…Fine. I will."

Kokomi

Kokomi feels her heart nearly stop in her chest at the sight of you bloodied and unconscious. Yet she keeps her calm until she's taken you to a quieter place, away from the sight of the shrine maidens.

During the rebellion, one of the worst parts of it all had been watching people get injured under her command. Injuries happened during war. It was inevitable. But it still brought a terrible feeling of helplessness.

Which is exactly what she's feeling now. It was worse because it was someone so dear to her who was hurt, this time. It was a harsh reminder of both your fragility, and of the fact that even during times of peace, harm could still befall you and everyone else.

Being the one to watch over watatsumi is a burdensome responsibility.

But if nothing else, she'd been blessed with the ability to heal. So that's what she does, the blue light of hydro washing over all your wounds until they slowly fade.

It doesn't quite feel good enough. Regardless of them being gone, she will remember they were there. You will remember the pain. But it is what it is, and acceptance is more productive than reminiscence.

Kokomi remains next to you, watching the way your breaths rise and fall like the waves hitting and retreating from the shore.

She's still there when you wake.

"Do you feel better? It was concerning when you returned in that state."

Your smile is far too bright for the situation. "Much better."

"You need to be more careful. If I wasn't around…" Kokomi hesitates, the sort of sight only you are allowed. Hesitation had no place in the demeanor of the divine priestess, but if it was just you…

"I knew you would take care of me," you reach out to press a kiss to her lips, and she allows the reassurance - that you are still here with her.

#alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #kokomi x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #headcanon hours

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2baabbies · 3 months

Note

skz bingo; #7, she/her pronouns, with chan?? maybe some sort of bookstore meet cute where reader can't reach a certain book that's on a shelf just out of her reach, but chan is a little taller than her so he manages to crowd against her back and grab the book for her?? 👀 I don't mind either sfw or nsfw, whichever feels like it fits the fic best!

my dear, I couldn’t make chan taller for fear of excluding the tall girlies ;w; but I think I still worked it in well. and I hope you like hyunlix, because they’re in the background fulfilling my bookkeeper/florist couple fantasies. I also split the difference between n/sfw with extraflirty!chan, enjoyyy 🫶🏻

🖤 read me like a book (bangchan x reader) 🖤

Pairings: chan x reader, background hyunlix

Words: 1170 (I gave up on the world limit)

Humour + Suggestive (no smut) + Fluff

fem!reader

Request guidelines here!

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Felix has been flirting with Hyunjin for over ten minutes, which is only a problem for you because he is sitting on the only ladder in the entire bookstore. The shop owner sits on the middle rungs as the florist leans against the wall and dramatically tells him about his morning. Felix clutches the bundle of white and yellow daffodils Hyunjin brought for him to his chest with a dreamy smile.

Residing on one of the upper shelves, out of your reach, is a new romance novel that you came to purchase. You steal a glance at Hyunjin and Felix, then continue glaring at your target. Now, it was not just the minor inconvenience souring your mood, but the envy of seeing the two men together. You felt incredibly unlucky in comparison to the perfect couple chatting away in the corner. You were tired of reading about romance, and more than ready to find it for yourself.

The tips of your fingers just brush the spine of one of the copies as you try again, and you sigh in defeat. Climbing the shelf would be entirely too hazardous, although you are getting desperate enough at this point to try it. You had been waiting for this book for months. But, as miserable as you were, you refused to interrupt Felix and Hyunjin.

“Hey there,” You look over your shoulder to face the man that speaks to you, “You, uh, look like you could use a little help?”

“I’ve got it.”

The speed in which you turn away is criminal. The stranger is incredibly handsome, and you would be damned if you let the cutest man to ever walk into this bookstore see the smut you were trying to pull off the shelf. He clears his throat gently and you peek over your shoulder at him.

“Hm, are you sure? I’ve got to grab something up there anyway.”

“O-Okay. I-If you wouldn’t mind…”

You are about to move when the man drops a stepstool behind you and springs onto it with ease. He braces one hand over your shoulder and leans in, his chest brushing against your back as he grabs the books. Your breath catches as he hops down again, and you will yourself to breathe as you turn around. You inhale sharply as he does not hand the book over to you, but flips through it instead. He then reads that lovely little page of content warnings- mainly kinks- listed by the author at the beginning of the book.

Your face burns as he hums and casually places it in your hand.

“Here’s your book.”

“It’s not mine,” You blurt quickly.

“Oh? Did you want a different one?”

You clutch it to your chest.

“N-No! I-I’m buying it… for my friend. I don’t read this stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” There is a troublesome little glint in his eye, “That’s a shame. That author is quite popular. Maybe you should give it a try?”

You squirm under his playful gaze. You wish you could just melt into the bookcase to escape this conversation.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“It’s not… realistic…”

His eyebrows quirk but he looks satisfied with your answer. Felix interrupts the tense moment as he begins leaving the bookstore with Hyunjin.

“Hey, Chan, I’m taking my break now. You got an eye on the cash?”

“Yeah, mate, you’re good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Hyunjin gives you an excited wave, which you return shyly, as Felix adds:

“Oh, y/n, I put a book aside for you. It’s behind the counter. Chan, her name is on it.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you,” You murmur.

The doorbell chimes as the door falls shut behind them, and you are left alone with Chan. He kicks up the stepstool and catches it one hand.

“Well, y/n,” He coos in his lovely accent, “I’ll be at the cash if you need anything. Give me a shout if you have any questions, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

He winks and walks behind the counter, settling in and opening the book he pulled from the shelf. You stall for a bit, then steel your nerves and approach the checkout. Chan sets his book aside and smiles as you set yours on the counter. He finds the book Felix set aside for you, and it is the exact same book you pulled from the shelf.

The road to Hell is truly paved with good intentions.

Chan pauses then coyly asks, “I guess you don’t want two of these, hm?”

You puff your cheeks.

“No.”

He chuckles and begins ringing up your purchase.

“Okay, I won’t tease you anymore. You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know?”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

He side-eyes you playfully.

“Alright. Are you paying with cash or card?”

“Cash.”

You quickly pull the bill from your pocket and hand it to Chan. You are both quiet as he makes your change then hands it back to you. You count it then furrow your brow gently.

“Something wrong?”

“Um, it seems… You gave me extra.”

He checks the receipt then looks at your hand as you hold it out to him.

“No, it’s right.”

“You gave me a discount?”

You drop the change in your pocket and accept the book and receipt as he hands them to you.

“Of course. Pretty girls shouldn’t have to pay full price.”

You fluster.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tease me anymore?”

He rests his chin in his hand and leans his elbows on the counter with a smirk.

“That wasn’t teasing. That was flirting.”

You clutch the book to your chest and duck your blushing face.

“Well…”

He giggles and the charming sound startles you to look up again.

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“I-It’s okay.”

“Hm?”

“Uh, you don’t have to stop.”

Chan smiles warmly.

“Only if you like it.”

“I, um, I do.”

“Okay then. Well, I hope your friend likes the book.”

“It’s almost worse when you pretend you don’t know…”

“Well, for the record, I believed you a little bit.”

“Sure.”

“I did,” He purrs, “And I would agree with you. I tried to read those books but they weren’t really my thing.”

“You did?”

“Mhm, like you said: it wasn’t realistic. If you’d like an example of something more realistic though, I’d be happy to show you.”

You roll your eyes as a grin breaks out on his face. Although he delivered the line with confidence, his whole face is flushed like yours.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

Chan winks as you walk away.

“Have a good day!”

You rush out of the bookstore and pause outside as you notice something sticking out of the book you just purchased. You flip it open to see a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it. You look through the window of the bookstore to see Chan, giving you a fluttery wave as you piece it all together. You huff and cover your face as you stomp away, but you cannot suppress your charmed smile.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fic requests #skz fic requests #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #hyunlix

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abyssleaves · 11 months

Text

Why I'll Be Remaining in the Lurking For Love Community

Ok.

Honestly, I really don't want to make this.

I'm way too old for fandom drama, and I don't need to be making myself a target. My gut is telling me that it's a bad idea to get involved, and I'm inviting trouble for myself by posting this.

But the most recent post against Tom is just ridiculous and I can't not speak my piece.

I'm not linking to it or reblogging it because I don't want to send hate anyone's way, and honestly because I'm going to block them as soon as this is posted. You can read mine and theirs for yourself and decide what you think.

As far as the “anti-Latino” posts that Tom liked, I can't speak to whether they do damage, or what Tom’s views actually are. I am not Latino, and I'm not Tom. It's not my place. But I will say I was aware of those posts long before I saw that “callout” post, and it's because multiple Latino artists I follow liked and retweeted them. At the time, I was given to understand that they were satirizing the fact that both were styles of stereotypes, but one was acceptable while the other was not, despite both being bad. I can't say, based on just those tweets, that I see any anti-Latino sentiment in Tom. I'm willing to admit that my knowledge on that front isn't bomb-proof.

The second point, well... I'm sorry to the friend that feels used. They're entitled to be hurt. And I will readily admit that I'm only able to respond to the info within that post. Maybe there IS more to it.

But I don't think that Tom ceasing contact over the hormones is surprising at all, from a mental health standpoint. Put yourself in his shoes: you're a trans person in US, which is its own struggle, and you've reached your mid/early 20s without being able to attain gender-affirming care. Now someone years younger than you just got the thing you want more than anything else. Sure, you might be happy for them. But that is also going to hurt, horribly. You really have three options:

1) stay friends and smother the bitterness/possible resentment. That will either end up ruining your mental health, or coming out and ruining the friendship anyway.

2) Ask your friend not to tell you/post about their transition. That makes it about you and also ruins something that should make them happy.

3) Distance yourself.

Maybe he should have spoken more directly with you about his feelings, granted. But, Tom has not been shy about the fact that he struggles with his mental health. None of us handle every situation well. As far as his occasional venting, I would think, if you WERE his friend, you might have some compassion, and either cease contact if the friendship is not fulfilling, or accept his sincere, well-written apology (Which are the ONLY words straight from Tom’s mouth on the entire fucking post).

Instead, you got the apology from him, and then shared a bunch of gossip between you and another friend, and outed your interpretations of his vent sessions to the world. That's not exactly classy, posting about how he sought people he felt safe with during a time when a big chunk of the community he built is telling him to do horrible things to himself.

I want to make it clear that I don't agree with all of Tom’s views as expressed on his initial explanation post. Again, many of them are issues that I don't feel are my place to get involved in, and therefore I stayed quiet at the time.

I'm aware that the justified and intense hurt felt by people in those communities can mean that even differing opinions feel like a slap in the face. You have every right to see Tom’s views as hurtful and choose to leave, and/or make a separate community for support. I don't blame people who are in those communities for doing so. This post is aimed at the obsessed minority that won't leave the tag/remaining fans/Tom alone.

All of the above being said, the reaction to Tom’s post is the most “touch grass” thing I have ever seen.

Tom liking one or two comics from a dark-humor comic artist so widespread on the internet that I didn't even know he had an actual page, or anything about him as a person (something Tom also stated) = Tom is a Nazi sympathizer.

Tom saying “I don't care for neopronouns, but I won't attack you for using them and will respect what everyone wants to be called” = Tom is a monstrous bigot.

The racism accusation has me especially 💀. All because he liked a post about help from an unexpected source and that we should be kinder to each other.

How on earth are you going to tell a POC that he doesn't know what racism is because he’s NOT THE RIGHT KIND OF POC? Do you hear yourself?

(FWIW, I also don't agree with kink at pride. Sorry. LGBTQ+ people are not "narsty little freaks"--yeah I SAW that post--they're people. They can be kinky, they can be vanilla, whatever. Kink has nothing to do with your orientation, and therefore it isn't part of Pride. Also, my guys, if you're having public sex/being nude at pride for kink reasons, then you're not part of the healthy kink community: safe, sane, and CONSENSUAL. Nobody around you consented to that. Similarly, while I feel that sex education for minors should be normalized in order to give them better tools to tell when they're being groomed, seeing strangers with no pants on is NOT education, that's involving minors in your fetish. And that's fucking gross. )

The LGBTQ+ community in the US is in a lot of trouble right now, and we have a very bad habit of eating our own. We divide and subdivide and allow ourselves to be carved up by a united conservative front.

We do not allow for differing levels of leftist beliefs, and we constantly accuse each other of being not POC/leftists/queer enough, or being the wrong kind, or using a term for ourselves that some other individuals don't like. A great deal of the bullying leveled against him is justified by others saying that he's choosing to support a party that will turn on him and cause him and others like him harm.

Well, to be honest, the only community I see doing that right now is this one.

The amount of disingenuous “OMG, just FYI everyone to everyone hurt by [situation], I’M not transphobic/a bigot, you're all welcome here 😌” posts from people, who did not read his post, did not link to or quote his post. Disgusting. You know very well that nothing in his explanation or in his actions throughout his time in the community pointed to any abuse ON HIS PART towards trans people, non-binary people, people of the Jewish faith, or POC. You're virtue signaling, you're putting lambs blood above your door to keep the baying mob away.

This is insane. When did differing opinions turn into this? You don't have to agree with Tom’s views on anything. You're welcome to not follow his accounts, not like his art, not buy his game. If you feel that his opinions are too severely different from yours, you should be allowed to leave the fandom without people telling you that you should do bad things to yourself because your opinions don't match theirs (sound familiar?).

But…please. Can we stop with this awful parasocial obsession with his personal page? You can't lie to yourself and call it anything other than literal stalking. It's creepy as hell, and it reflects more on you than on him, in the long run. People might agree with your outrage, but deep down, they're afraid of being the next target, and they stay quiet out of fear that you'll stalk them next and send a mob hurling abuse their way.

To Tom, I'm sorry that this happened to you. You didn't deserve anything even close to this level of vitriol and abuse. You started from scratch and created a character and story that I feel was something truly unique. You reached an incredible number of people's hearts with Lurking for Love and Jacob, and no matter what happens from here with both of them, you deserve to feel proud of that. I hope that you are ok. Being a public figure on the internet doesn't mean you don't have a right to private opinions or even just general privacy.

I'm not tagging any characters in this. I'm only tagging the game because I hope other fans get to see that they're not alone. I don't believe the tags should be polluted this way. If you have to discuss a creator, it should be in his tag and not in a fandom space.

I'm aware that there will be deliberate bad-faith readings of this, or nitpicking of things I didn't cover. Whoever wants to, go ahead and respond, but I've said what I came to say, and I have nothing more to add. My inbox is closed and I love the block button.

#lurking for love #lfl game #carnivorekitty

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captain-mj · 10 months

Note

I’ve never done this before so don’t be mean to me I’ll cry. but could we have some more of the small switch au? ✨Pretty please✨

Don’t worry friend! I got you!! Previous part here

CW: Drug use, suicidal junk

Soap should be doing dozens of things right now. Relaxing. Sleeping. Enjoying his leave.

Instead he was… watching Ghost. Definitely not stalking. Stalking made it sound creepy and this was not creepy.

He hoped.

As far as Price knew, Soap spent his leave in Glasgow and Ghost spent his leave in Manchester. The latter was true. Made evident by Ghost currently smiling at an older woman he had put together was his mom. They were at a coffeeshop and they looked… domestic.

She fussed over him. That was clear. The new scar on his arm from shrapnel was a big part of her concern. She kept going back to it and grabbing his hands like he’d disappear on her.

Ghost smiled and reassured her so she’d relax again. They were so soft. So…. Viscerally human. Soap wondered if he had ever looked like that. He couldn’t remember.

She said something. Whatever it was, it broke the atmosphere so violently Soap felt the tension across the room.

He stood up, those doe eyes filled with the frustration that came from repeat arguments.

Soap clearly saw his mouth as he said. “I don’t want to see him.”

She had the same doe eyes. Big and bright. Lovely. He couldn't read her lips as easily. Not used to watching her speak the way he watched Ghost.

Ghost shook his head and walked away from her. His soft hoodie and jeans looked nice. Black jeans and a grey hoodie. Both hugging him just right.

Soap had an opportunity to just move on. He could leave and no one would know.

But Ghost was right there and he wanted answers. So Soap followed. He trailed at a considerably distance so that Ghost wouldn't pick up on him. Ghost seemed to float. Nice and easy. Sweet and ripe for the picking.

He turned his head, beautiful blond waves moving around. His smile could've provided warmth for a small country.

Soap wondered if he ran his tongue along his skin, if he'd taste as sweet as he looked.

Maybe.

Simon went to a flat nearby and he got dressed. For some reason, despite everything Soap knew about Ghost, he left his curtains open. It meant he got a good look at Ghost's back.

That's when it hit him that maybe he went a little too far with this whole thing. He was staring at him like a fucking creep. Obsessing over answers that he'd kill anyone for trying to get out of him.

Soap rubbed his face, wearing a thin ski mask and eyeshadow. He needed to just accept defeat and go home to pretend he wasn't here harassing his team mate.

Ghost stepped out again and Soap went on high alert, quickly noticing how he was dressed.

Nevermind. He'd follow that man to the end's of the earth.

A crop top. The fucker had a black crop top on and tight fucking pants. Soap felt indecent looking at him. His blood started rushing south and he realized how long it had been since he had gotten laid.

Before Roba, so maybe 4 years? Jesus Christ.

Ghost kept walking and Soap trailed, in a trance. He imagined his mouth on those arms of his and goddamn.

Ghost went into a club and Soap waited a few minutes before going in.

There was a band playing. The lead singer had skull makeup on and the guitarist and drummer were wearing masks. Soap didn't find himself liking the music all that much, a little too angry and loud. But Ghost was here somewhere.

Soap got a Scotch and took a drink of it, reluctantly pulling his mask up to do so. He put his drink down and watched everyone, trying to pick out his tall target from the bodies pressing against each other. It started to overwhelm him.

How long had he been there? He checked the time and saw almost an hour had passed. So much time was slipping by. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find him.

Too many people. He leaned against the bar and started to breath as deeply as he could. Desperation for air filled his lungs.

Arms appeared on either side of him but before he could flip out and start fighting, his hands were pinned.

If Soap had leaned back, his head would've touched Simon's stomach.

Too close.

"Learned from last time." Simon said in his ear, pressed right against his back. His voice had a small slur to it. "Just focus on me."

Johnny hated being touched. He hated it so much. But Simon was so warm. His breathing was so steady that Johnny found himself copying it. Slowly, he started to calm down.

Simon's tattoos were so pretty around him. "There you are. Knew you were watching me. Almost thought you were fake."

Johnny kept breathing slowly. "You knew?"

"Yep. Didn't expect you to follow me here. You liked watching me and mom drink tea?"

Johnny felt himself flush and start to panic. Simon put his arms around him and led him outside, his height being used as an advantage. He led him outside and put Soap against the wall, hand next to his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Price couldn't reach you."

Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Talked to me twenty minutes ago." He was pale. Very pale. Lips a pretty pink. Something was wrong here, but Johnny couldn't be sure.

Soap didn't have an excuse for himself. He looked away and gritted his teeth.

"Were you worried about me, Johnny?"

Soap refused to answer.

"Take the way out, sir. Otherwise, I have to assume it was a lot more dastardly, the reason you followed me out here tonight." Ghost grinned at him. "I have to assume you wanted to see me."

Soap blushed. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. Ghost realized and swallowed.

"You did want to see me."

Soap glared. "You have secrets."

"What?" Ghost looked taken back.

Soap nodded. "There's something off about you. You have a past. Something you don't want to talk about."

Ghost paused and then slowly tilted his head. Blank. Dark. He stepped forward and Soap refused to back down. "You have a blackhole in your fucking file. I've seen it. Nothing there but black fucking lines. You're a fucking asshole for expecting me to spill my guts when you won't. You want the truth, Johnny? My dad was a prick."

Oh.

Soap winced and stared up at him, guilt filling him. "I..."

"He'd bring home animals. Beat me to hell. Brought me hunting just to put a gun right here." He tapped his temple. "There you go. My mysterious scars are from a childhood I'd like to forget. Of course you bring this up fucking today."

"That's the guy you wanted your mom wanted you to see?"

Simon scoffed. "You're... God, you're an asshole." He swayed and grabbed Soap for balance, putting his head on his shoulder. "You could've just asked."

Soap winced at regained contact. "You solid?"

Simon yanked away from him and threw up in the dumpster, shaking like a leaf. "No."

"Listen, lightweight. You really need to slow down." He grabbed his hair immediately to hold it back. Soap pretended not to notice the half dissolved pills in all the bourbon. Didn't look like anything prescribed.

"Fuck you." Ghost didn't seem nearly as menacing as he did a minute ago. He was right back to wet kitten mode.

Soap sighed. "Let me take you home."

Ghost shook his head. Miserable. Hair still held by Soap's gloved hands. "I'm fine to walk home."

"No, you're not. You're gagging and shaking. I'll walk you home."

"My place is a mess." Ghost tried to fight him but it didn't work well. It was half assed and he just flopped against him after a moment, breathing in deeply. "Johnny..."

Soap smiled. "I know your address."

"Course you do."

Soap walked him home and put him in bed. The place was spotless. More than spotless. The only evidence it was lived in was a few cups in the sink.

Ghost finally seemed to throw up everything and he just collapsed into bed.

"You eaten?" Soap asked. "Haven't seen you eat all day."

Ghost shook his head.

Soap nodded and looked around the flat. He found some crackers for him to eat but Ghost looked reluctant.

"Come on. Eat up."

Simon grumbled but ate the crackers. He laid back in the bed and relaxed. Innocent. A little lamb. His eyes slowly closed, eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Soap felt even more criminal than he already did. Ghost was younger. Youngest person to join the SAS at 24. His sergeant. And here he was, being a horrible creep.

"Sleep on my couch."

"Why?"

"It's hours until Glasgow. Plus, I might die in my sleep and I would want you to find me." Ghost opened his eyes to look at him. "You came at just the right time."

Soap felt sick. He didn't sleep. Now, instead of looking at him for his own selfish needs, he watched him in case he asphyxiated or overdosed. Every twitch was possible convulsions.

What the hell did Ghost mean by he came at the right time?

Simon woke up in a semi high haze. He groaned and stretched, realizing he was still in all of his clothes. He started undressing himself to take a shower.

Soap cleared his throat. Very clearly in his doorway.

Ghost wasn't shy about his body so he kept undressing. "You're here."

"Stayed all night. Didn't want you to choke to death on your own vomit."

Ghost grunted and pulled off his pants.

"Or try to finish the job. Were you doing that shit on purpose? Hoping I'd find your dead body?"

"No. I don't know. I feel like the guy who stalked me doesn't have much of a moral high ground."

Soap scoffed and glared into him.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself. You don't have to look at me like that. I was just... trying to lose myself for a bit. Stupidly, I assumed you'd leave. Should've realized you're like a blood hound."

Soap shook his head and looked away. He wore a different mask so Ghost could see his mohawk.

"Your hair is cool."

Soap quickly turned back around. "What?"

"I said it's cool."

"Thanks."

Ghost smiled awkwardly and left the room. "help yourself to whatever."

Soap nodded. "Nothing but tea here."

"Try some. Might like it."

Soap tried making tea but it was super bitter. He almost gagged when he drank it and he set it to the side.

Ghost came out of the shower. Wearing nothing but boxers.

What the hell.

He grabbed Soap's abandoned cup of tea and looked into it.

"What did you do to it?"

"I just steeped it?"

"How hot did you make the water?"

"I just boiled it and dropped a couple of tea bags into it."

"A couple??" Ghost looked confused. "How much were you trying to make?"

"A cup?"

Ghost sighed and started to fix a kettle. How domestic. His large back on display.

Soap felt both overdressed and horribly naked. Ghost could probably see everything going on in his brain.

He gave him a mug that looked so much lighter than the one he made.

"Sip it. See if it needs sugar."

It was warm. Filled up his chest. "It's fine."

Ghost nodded and sat on his chair, spreading his legs.

Soap tried to not stare at him. He just kept drinking.

They didn't speak much.

For some reason, Soap didn't leave for the rest of their little vacation.

They didn't talk about any of this. They just started working again when they got back.

Soap made his coffee and for some reason, he made a second cup. He slid it to Ghost when he saw him.

Ghost slowly sipped it and nodded. "I like it. Way better than the other stuff."

Soap nodded. "Way better."

They shared a moment of silence.

Ghost took a deep breath. "I can't sleep because of insomnia. Get nightmares and stuff. You?"

"Nightmares. I feel things... Bugs. Stuff like that."

Ghost nodded and looked at the cup. "I'm...sorry for the leave. You shouldn't have had to babysit me."

Soap felt so stupid. He didn't know why. His skin started to crawl.

"I was being pathetic. Curling up like a fucking alcoholic."

Soap closed the gap. His mask was still up.

Ghost tasted like coffee and bergamot. His hair still felt so soft.

Ghost kissed back, pulling him in closer. "Fucking hell."

Soap expected to push back. To dominate. Ghost was so soft in his own ways. Instead, he found himself matched and kissed back. Held so tight it made his breath catch.

And then Ghost growled and Soap found himself falling into his lap, panting. He wondered if Ghost would listen to his orders in bed. If they'd be like on the field. Perfect and seamless.

Ghost pulled him back and put his face in Soap's throat, breathing. His hands curled around him defensively. "I... um..."

Soap blurted out. "I want to draw you."

"...okay."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #cod #ghostsoap #soapghost

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phatcatphergus · 2 months

Note

I'm sorry but your last few anon are taking the award show way to seriously

Quackity said this isn't community voting/competition.

Quackity didn't kick Tubbo out of the call; he couldn't join because of probably leaks, and he's doing a subathon. Quackity felt bad, and he said he should've been specific (which I agree, lol). For the record, Tubbo isn't mad at or taking it seriously.

You should have expected the award show to be scuffed; it's the first one. This isn't the Grammys, Emmys, Oscars, the streamer awards, etc. This award show is meant to be unserious. I can tell how much Tubbo was having fun, laughing, and not getting mad.

I understand you're mad, but at the same time, it doesn't matter who won/lost. At the end of the day, it's just an award show; it ain't that deep LMFAO

Okay well there’s a few thing here that I think we can agree on bc yes, it was a miscommunication and quackity didn’t kick Tubbo out of the call. People were upset at first because it seemed like a hypocrisy to let pol in the call when he was streaming too. After everything was cleared up people were fine.

Also, I don’t think I saw anyone actively upset about how scuffed it was. People expect it for live productions and most people were just joking around about it. I think there could have been more testing done beforehand (I think quackity said that it was the first audio test) but overall I don’t think anyone had incredibly high standards for it either. This isn’t the streamer awards lol.

Now I also agree that the awards weren’t that deep. It’s a silly awards show and it doesn’t make or break anyone career. But no one was really angry at the awards show, they were angry at repeated behavior towards creators that don’t deserve it. It’s not hard to point out the sever lack of French representation, the lack of art for certain creators (some who play a shit ton more then other), and the lack of animatics that has become the standard for the qsmp at this point. The qsmp awards was just another arrow to the back of repeated negligence and disservice to creators that play the server every fucking day of their lives. BBH and tubbo haven’t stopped playing the server even when the eggs stopped logging on and both had trouble staying positive and inspired.

They also both defended the admins and purgatory, and were two of the few people who actually played purgatory as it was intended, only to be harassed and targeted by people. Which we later come to find may have been purposeful. Both BBH and Tubbo had incredibly involved and amazing lore that got one image in the museum while other people who played maybe once a week had 3. How was it that purgatory 2 had 5 members of the server actively participating but most of the clips were of the rats or cellbit and baghera who were on for one day after not playing for weeks?

So no, people weren’t necessarily mad about the awards themselves, it’s about a pattern of behavior that hasn’t changed in the slightest and continues to sideline some of the most active and supportive members of the server. If you want to see a more in depth look at the bias then this post lays out how many nominations people received.

#qsmp awards #qsmp crit #qsmp neg #anon asks

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 3 months

Text

What once was. Pt2.

Alex Keller x reader (code name: boomslang)

My idea was to write 2 alternative endings. I hope i did it well, maybe one of the two stories is good enough as the first part.

WARNING: it's long, violence and mentions of blood maybe? Spelling and grammatical errors.

Alex saw you leave, a lot of memories popped up in his mind, every interaction with you had a new perspective, your words affected him. He found himself Wondering why he never noticed before and asking himself if it's true what you said "You fell for someone who is too busy to notice you".

You planted a lot of thoughts in his mind. Now your smile, the sound of your laugh, your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips, the way you squeezed his arm to let him know you were there, all that running on his mind, suddenly love is more important than any war, any target. Now the necessity to touch you, hear you, being around you is his highest priority.

This didn't pass unperceived by Farah, she noticed him distracted and even distant with everybody around.

- Alex... Did you hear what I said?

- uh? Oh! For sure, I'm sorry, I think that's a good idea.

- Yeah... alright, we have to talk. You've been distracted since you saw your friend, I don't know what happens between both of you and I don't want to know, what I want to know is if that is going to affect you in battle because if that's the case then you don't have nothing to do here...

- No, no, I'm fine, I'm just tired.

Farah is too smart, Alex knows she didn't believe it. She is not angry she's actually looking at him calmly and giving him a soft small smile. For the first time since they met, she was looking at him, talking about what she perceived on him.

- Alex, I appreciate what you, price and all of them have been doing to help here, you more than anyone else, but I'm serious, i don't want you to stay here if you have unsolved... Situations that will keep you out of the game. Think about it.

Alex contemplated the idea of leaving but you said nothing between you and him would be the same, then what's the point of leave if you're not going to forgive and give him one more chance? If he never goes, he will never know, no?

You were at home, as a reward for a successful mission, Price let you go home for a few days, you were in silence fixing your Car, preparing it for a good "wax and polish" when someone knocked at your door, which is strange since no one but Price and Laswell are the only ones that know your location.

You ran to the door, cleared your throat and were ready with your gun behind your back.

- Who is it?

- Y/N, I'm... Alex.

You didn't respond, not because you were trying to be rude but you couldn't believe what your ears were hearing.

- Y/N please open the door, I will not leave, I will sleep on your door if it's necessary.

- What are you doing here? You should be with Farah, no? And How did you find my place?

- Too many questions and I will answer all of them if you open the door, please.

There was silence, Alex was ready to sit on the floor when the door opened and there you were, god, you looked so attractive, you were wearing shorts and a grey t-shirt, some dust in your cheeks and arms.

- Come in... Are you going to stay there staring? Let's go.

He stood up and walked in before you could change your mind, you felt a flame growing in your chest but tried to keep the distance.

- Fixing your car?

- Yeah... some details. Can I offer you something to drink?

- Ah... Yeah, water please.

(Why did you ask for water? You need tequila or something strong to help you to go through this) Alex said to himself, he wasn't expecting to see you like that, you look so... Perfect.

You put the glass on the coffee table and stayed there, looking at him, he was wearing a Black compression shirt and cargo pants. God, he looks so good, it's not fair, it's not fair, you will not resist...

- So, I'm here because I begged to Price for hours to give me your address...

- Why? What do you want? I think I was very clear...

- Because you're right, I messed up, I ruined our friendship, I ran to someone else letting you behind, I'm an idiot...

- Yes, you are... And don't think I will...

- I haven't finished...

He interrupted your complaining, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continue.

- i'm an idiot, because I thought I found the woman of my dreams, my accomplice, my... Soulmate in Farah, when in reality... all this time, I had her beside me... I'm an idiot because only when I saw you leaving and after that discussion I realized it.

He stood up and walked to you, you were stepping back until the wall of the room touched your back, Alex held your hands and kneel down. You don't feel strong enough to act cold and distant, you feel something in your stomach, are those butterflies?, the flame inside your chest growing more and more, you're doing your best to not let your tears out again.

- Y/n, I know it won't be easy, but I really need you to forgive me, I need a chance to prove I won't be an idiot ever again... I'm not asking you to forgive me, I'm asking you to give me one opportunity to earn your forgiveness and your heart. Can you do that for me?

Anybody else would ask you to just accept the apology and you would easily reject it, but not Alex, he's always been better than any other guy you met before and he knows you more than anyone else, he knows it won't be easy and still... Is taking the risk.

It took you a few minutes but you made your decision, you kneeled down too and nodded in silence, avoiding his eyes, he took your chin softly and made you look at him. Those soft eyes, that smile brighten like the stars, he's staring at you, every facial feature, even when you cry you look pretty.

He didn't kiss your lips, he knew it was not the right time, at least... not yet, in exchange he kissed your nose and forehead, he held you in his arms whispering «thank you, thank you, love»

You finally give him a smile, you missed him so much, you missed his touch, his perfume, everything about him.

- Don't ruin it this time Keller.

- I won't, love... I won't.

You were in the helicopter, drying more tears, when... « Here 1-0-5 reporting, Missile approaching, I repeat, we're under attack...» the next second you were on the ground, there was fire and smoke, there was something on your stomach, a tree branch, you saw a man approaching to you...then everything went dark.

Farah received a call a few days later, Price was trying to make contact with you, unfortunately you never answered, in fact, the last time they had your location was when the helicopter fell.

- We don't know what happened, we've been trying to contact her, we need people to check the place and find anything that could tell us where she could be.

- We'll go to help, send the coordinates.

«ALEX!» he was watching the sunrise in the ceiling of the building when he heard Farah.

- here you are! Get ready, we have work to do.

- what's wrong? What are we going to do?

- Boomslang... She is missing, we have to go.

He never moved faster than he did after hearing Farah's words, she gave him all the details, when they arrived just found a destroyed helicopter, the body of the soldier who was operating it, your backpack and dry blood. Who took you away? Did u walk by your own? A lot of questions ran through his mind.

- We found the place Sir, we found everything but her. Someone arrived before us... There were some footprints, dry blood.

That's all Alex could find, Price promised he would find you. And a few weeks later, Price called with not very good news, the terrorist attack in that plane, they found something hard to believe.

- I want everybody to observe these photographs of the cameras in the airport...

- That looks like... Makarov.

Ghost was the first one to say something.

- Well done, that's him. But now watch this.

There you were, holding Makarov's hand, you had a ponytail, wearing black clothes and sunglasses. The next photo was you again, kissing his cheek while you disappeared on the tunnel to the plane.

- There's no way, that cannot be her.

Soap was speaking with pain in his voice, you and him are friends, he knows you're better than that, you're not a traitor.

- we need to obtain more information, but at the moment that's what we have and here's where Farah and Alex get in, the plane is in a zone close to you, you will go to look for more clues, anything that can tell us what the hell is going on.

- You can count on us, captain.

Farah was ready to end the call when Alex interrupted.

- Cap, what will happen if we find out that boomslang is with Makarov?

- Well... She will be under investigation, interrogatories...

- She's not capable of it, she wouldn't be a traitor, she's probably a hostage.

- We don't know yet, Soap...

You landed at the place of the plane's accident, Makarov gave you your first task to prove your loyalty to him, since you and him apparently have chemistry, he just wanted to be sure you wouldn't betray him.

You knew someone would appear to look for information, but you certainly weren't expecting to see Farah and Alex. You let Farah on her own, you observed Alex, following him in silence until a tree branch appeared on your way, Alex jumped on you without noticing that he was attacking you, you pushed him away and kicked him on his chest, he fell off and you put your knife against his neck.

- Y/N? What the hell are you doing?

- Shh!

- We've been looking for you, is Makarov forcing you to do what you did?

- No, no one forced me, I did it because I wanted.

- you're wrong y/n, you're making a mistake, please, we can solve it, we will talk with Laswell and Price, we can solve it.

«echo! Echo, there's people arriving, I need you to cover me»

He noticed, you were cold and sure of your actions, were you really betraying them?.

- You will die, Farah will not survive alone with all those soldiers.

«Echo!! They're a lot, where are you?»

- you're on his side now? Why?

- Makarov showed me the power of my anger, the desire for revenge, I want you to see how your pretty Farah lost everything, I want you to feel what I felt when she decides to leave you behind.

« I'm hurt, Echo, I need help, I found what Price needs, come here now!»

Alex tried to fight you, he felt hurt, your words were still hurting him, he threw you away and you hit a tree, he ran away, new tropes appeared, you ran to one of the soldiers and asked him to give you his sniper.

You started to shoot, over and over, until you lost him. You ordered the soldiers to kill both of them.

Silence filled the air until you heard a shot, near you, you walked following the sound just to find yourself in front of them.

You were quick, you shot at Farah on her leg and feet, she fell in pain. Alex kneeled down to check Farah's.

- Y/N! Stop! You're not like this, you're better, everybody trusted you, don't make a mistake.

- Oh Alex, Alex, it is too late, now you will see Farah's hope burning, I will enjoy every minute of your suffer.

Another shot went directly to Alex's shoulder, then another on his leg, he's in pain, the perfect chance to take the evidence, that's what Makarov requested, he just needed to eliminate all evidence of his participation in this.

You got close to them, just to say.

- I did it, I planned the attack on that plane, Tell price and the boys I'm sorry for the Betray but I chose the winner's side.

In that moment another truck arrived, there he was, Makarov waiting for you, observing you, the devil's eyes, that smile was intoxicating you.

You walked and gave him the evidence, Alex was trying to stand up, Farah was looking for her gun when Makarov's voice invaded their ears.

- I want to thank you, both of you, this woman fell in my arms thanks to you, don't ever underestimate a woman's anger, her rage can take her too far. You will hear about us, too soon.

You and Makarov disappeared, Farah fainted while Alex was trying to contact someone to go and help them, he wanted to scream, Makarov took advantage of your anger and your broken heart, this wouldn't happen if he never left you, he was regretting every second that he spent away from you, and he would regret it even more in the future.

#Spotify #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #long reads #x yn #fanfiction #alex echo 3 1 #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #farah karim #y/n #x reader #reader insert

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sophieinwonderland · 3 months

Note

Hey uh.... Are those mod posts in systemscringe about you supporting p3d02 real?/genq

Unsurprisingly, it's another smear.

Most of it is taking my host's personal post about having complex feeling about his own grandfather out of context. I think anyone who was raised by an abuser knows how messy feelings can be towards family members. And unsurprisingly, being raised in the home of a convicted former abuser, and the former victim who is willingly living there, is equally as complicated.

There is no excuse for abuse. But could there have been things that could have prevented the abuse? That post was my host suggesting that maybe the abuse could have been prevented by societal factors. Maybe if someone with severe PTSD from a war he didn't sign up for had been given proper mental health treatment on returning, things wouldn't have ended up the way they did.

I don't think it's wrong to believe that there could have been realities where someone who was sick was able to recognize that early on and felt comfortable seeking help. And maybe in those realities, some of the victims of abuse wouldn't have been abused.

There's no way to turn back the clock and undo the damage that's already been done. It's too late. But I think it's fair to believe we can work to prevent abuse like this in the future.

My host's comments were about the complexities of growing up with someone you love while knowing they did something horrible to someone else you love, and feeling that society as a whole let both of them down. That since his grandfather wasn't offending later in life, maybe that means his mom wouldn't have been harmed had his grandfather gotten help he needed before he hurt her. That this was a tragedy that could have been prevented.

I feel there's something really gross about using that as a gotcha for a syscourse talking point, but sysmeds never have had much in the way of morals.

To be crystal clear, my position is that pedophilia is a mental disorder, and nonoffenders should feel safe seeking treatment so that they can hopefully live happy, healthy lives without ever offending.

To me, it's also important to differentiate between people with paraphiliac disorders and child molesters. Not everyone suffering from a harmful paraphilia acts on it. And not everyone who molests children suffers from a paraphiliac disorder. Many are opportunists who just target victims who are most vulnerable, and don't have any particular attraction to children. While overlap exists, these are not the same things.

(We have no idea where my host's grandfather falls on this.)

I believe that if you isolate people with paraphilias, make them feel like they can't seek help, they end up with nowhere to turn and will be more likely to offend. Like with most illnesses, you'll get better results from treatment the earlier the intervention is. And ideally, early intervention means fewer children will be harmed.

Because that's the most important thing here. Protecting children from abuse.

This is what I support. Early intervention for nonoffenders to protect children. I don't believe in stigmatizing people just for having a disorder.

With the distinction between people with paraphiliac disorders and child molesters made, can we also talk for a moment about how the r/systemscringe mods are just straight-up supporting accused child molesters?

If you've seen their recent bot posts setup on the sub to try to disprove RAMCOA, it links to articles written by The Grey Faction, an ableist branch of the Satanic Temple aiming to deny the experiences of trauma survivors.

Much of the "research" on that page is coming directly from the now-defunct False Memory Syndrome Foundation.

For those of you who are unaware, Jennifer Freyd, the psychologist behind theories of Betrayal Trauma and DARVO, accused her parents Pamela and Peter Freyd of sexual abuse in the 90s after recalling her trauma in therapy.

Her parents responded by not only denying it, but setting up an organization called the False Memory Syndrome Foundation which was created to prove trauma memories were being implanted, and to take legal action against trauma survivors and their therapists.

If you've ever heard of DARVO as a tactic used by abusers before, know that Pamela and Peter Freyd's founding of the False Memory Syndrome Foundation were the inspiration for DARVO.

It is impossible to overstate the damage this evil organization inflicted on survivors of CSA in shielding their abusers from consequences

So while r/systemscringe desperately tries to paint me as some pedophilia defender, they're aligning themselves with actual child molesters and abusers, spreading the arguments that those same abusers used to discredit their victims.

#syscourse #csa tw #child abuse tw #abuse tw #false memory syndrome foundation

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childlikegoblinqueen · 5 months

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Huntlow Week Day # 7 Waffles/Wedding

Hunter brushed off his forest green vest and slid his golden dress jacket over his arms and shoulder, adjusting his matching bow tie.

His eyes passed over his own reflection in the long mirror that hung against the door of the room where Raine's wedding party changed. Hunter wore long slacks that matched his jacket, and of course, a pair of crocs which he knew were out of sorts with the rest of his outfit -- but after spending his entire life dressing on model to appease a lie, he truly did not care.

Formal attire? Check.

Freshly cut hair? Check.

A little personal flair? Check.

"Looking sharp man!" Steve Tholomule's grinning reflection joined Hunter's

"Sharp?" Hunter raised a brown, "W-were we s'pposed to bring weaponry? A concealed blade? I - I know Eda and Raine still have enemies and their wedding would be a target but .."

"Nah!" Steve gave Hunter a playful elbow bump. "I mean you look good!"

Hunter nodded and added the word, "sharp" to his list of slang words that sounded harmful but meant something good.

Like when Willow had called his flying skills, "sick" the first time they met.

Hunter smiled at the memory. He was a different person back then -- so eager to get ahead. To prove his worth. And yet, he was a possession of someone else. Someone who told him what he should want in life.

And yet? Between meeting Luz, and Flapjack, and, Amity, and Gus, and Willow of course ... Hunter was on a collision course with someone else.

Himself.

"Hey Steve?" Hunter cleared his throat.

"Hmmm?" Tholomule was adjusting his straight tie but he turned around to meet Hunter's eye.

"Is it weird that I'm sorta surprised that Raine and Eda are getting married?"

Steve quirked a brow, "Weird because you're still thinking about how Coven Heads were forbidden from having romantic -- entanglements?"

"Huh? Nah. Nothing like that." Hunter shook his head. He hardly even thought about Raine as a former Coven Head anymore. They were his music teacher, his friend, a truly kind soul -- and someone who had invited Hunter to stand with them on one of the most important days of their life.

But Eda?

"I guess I just always knew about The Owl Lady -- errr --Eda as this free spirit? A Wild Witch who did as she pleased and was always breaking free of -- well, everything?"

"Hmmm." Steve smiled warmly, "Well, there's a lot of ways to be free, buddy? And when you find someone who you can look at and say, 'I'm yours, you're mine -- and together? We're free to be ourselves?' That's the stuff, man."

"The stuff." Hunter took note of the vagueness of the slang. He'd heard it before and felt confident that while he didn't quite know what "The stuff" was specifically, that was probably the point in this context.

"Hey Steve?" Hunter said slowly, "Have you found 'the stuff' with anyone?"

"What?" Steve's eyebrows shot up, "Oh no. You know me man. I'm STEVE. A free agent."

Hunter recalled how tenderly the Bard, Katya had been with Steve just moments ago as she helped him with his tie and pinned a flower on his lapel.

And then, Hunter thought to himself, "Maybe sometimes you find that thing. The person who makes you feel so free that you don't even realize they're yours and you're theirs and that's how you know its real."

The door to the changing room opened and Willow was waiting on the other side, dressed in a lovely forest green dress -- matching his vest and shirt. Her hair was tied in braids. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were red. At the sight of him, a bouquet of flowers bloomed in her hair.

"Wow." Hunter breathed.

"Uh, have you seen yourself guy?" Willow giggled.

Now Hunter was blushing. Shyly, Willow reached up and pinned a tiny bouquet of flowers on Hunter's lapel. He hunter reached into his pocket for a glyph which he tapped and a colorful corsage of fresh flora bloomed before them. Gently he slid it onto Willow's wrist -- his calloused fingertips brushing her soft skin.

Willow's hair bloomed even more, and Hunter's ears flicked as they grew hot at the tips.

Willow smiled slyly and offered him her pinky, which he took in his own and together, they went to join all of their friends and family at Eda and Raine's wedding.

And then? Years later?

Willow and Hunter would meet again on the day of their own wedding. This time Hunter would wear a yellow button up with a blue vest, embroidered in flowers and Willow's dress would wear a lacy dress colored a light sea foam green, with a high color of lacy floral.

"You ready for the ol' ball and chain?" She'd joked.

"Pfft. What ball and chain?" Hunter shook his head.

"Yeah, I kinda hate how people call it that too." Willow sighed. "Marriage shouldn't feel like a prison sentence."

Hunter's lips bloomed into a smile. Then a grin. "It should feel more life freedom alongside your best friend."

"Exactly!" Willow smiled. "So let's get hitched so we can be free together."

And pinky in pinky, Hunter Noceda and Willow Park strode towards the altar together while their futures lay wide open on the horizon.

#toh fanfic #toh hunter #hunter noceda #the owl house #willow x hunter #spotify #willow park #huntlow #a03 fanfic #huntlow week #huntlow week 2023 #prompt: Wedding

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mara-brekker · 1 year

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Request you want a request? I am happy to ask!

Can you please write a Kax x reader from shadow and bones? Could it be a "she fell first but he fell harder"? But add a little bit of angst in the please, maybe having him yell at her for always being there and she listens to him and gives him space and stuff. Idk just a thought

Ur Wish is my demand

My Investment

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Words: 1127

Warnings: angst, Kaz yelling? xD mention of blood

.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・

I've known Kaz Brekker for a few years now. I saw him for the first time on the streets of Ketterdam. Three men touched me and asked me if I was alone.

One of my many problems was not being familiar with the streets of Ketterdam. My father never allowed me to leave our big house. He always said that weird people would catch, torture and kill us. He listed countless names of these people I didn't know, but only one of them stuck in my mind: Dirtyhands.

But when said and his brown-haired companion helped me out of the mess and, as I learned, Nina offered me a place to sleep, it was soon to become clear to me

...

Kaz Brekker.

For some the devil himself.

However, no one saw the sparkle in his eyes, or his beauty in general. His smile made me blush every time, but I never really noticed that he was only smiling at me.

I knocked on his office and after a "mhh" I entered. "You came"

"You called." His eyes sparkled.

I slowly approached his desk, which had a pile of plans on it. Kaz got up and walked over to me. "I wanted to ask you if you could get me something." I nodded. I didn't care if it was relevant to all of us or just him, I would do it. "I need a box." He pointed to a sketch and I just nodded again. "The content is..." he looked at me "very important to me. But I can't get them. The crate will be found in a carriage. Jesper and I are out tonight and I guess I won't be able to get her before the carriage leaves.” He pointed to a map of Ketterdam as he talked. "I'll do it," he smiled, but only briefly. I was about to leave when Kaz said my name and I turned to him. "If the city guard or anyone else gives you trouble and you can't make it out with that box, leave it." I just looked at him in horror. "Kaz, it would only be a job half done if I returned without the target." But he just shook his head. "I really shouldn't have sent you. Just drop them if you're in danger.” Nodding, I left his office to go change.

…

I didn't care what Kaz said.

I will take this box with me even if one of my legs is in danger. I was standing in a dark side street where I should see the carriage that should come right now. The first thirty minutes passed when the people in the carriage didn't want to get off. But when they did, guards stood at every door. I saw a friend of my sister's walk past me and quickly asked her if she could help me distract the men. Of course I had to put down a few coins for it, but the female charms were reliable because both guards were now talking to her at the horses. So I crept quietly to a door and opened it quietly. I saw a box similar to Kaz's sketch on a bench and picked it up. Just as I stepped out of the carriage, a city guard ran up to me.

I ran and suddenly one guard became three and they even followed me onto the roofs. Unfortunately, the box was unwieldy to carry and one certainly couldn't climb it. I only felt a slight twinge in my left hip, and when I touched it, my hand covered a warm, red substance.

i was bleeding

I tried to run, climb, and jump, but the box made my pain worse and I dropped it. Like Kaz said.

It was easier to lose them now, and so did I. I arrived at the hiding place with a limp.

"Kaz she will surely come soon." I only heard Jesper's voice.

When Kaz saw me, there was relief in his eyes. However, this quickly faded and turned into anger. "My room. Now."

When I got to the top, I had no more strength. I had to take care of my wound as quickly as possible.

"I see you didn't manage to get her." I just covered my wound and tried to breathe calmly. Kaz must have seen from my look that I wasn't feeling well since he was walking towards me now.

"Take off the vest." I did as he said and he examined the wound. He hastily went to one of his closets and pulled out a needle, thread, and bandage. When he stood in front of me again and stared at the wound, his hands were shaking. He wanted to help, but for some unknown reason he couldn't.

"I can't," he said, looking at me. "That's ok" I answered and took the utensils from him to make myself comfortable on a chair. I picked up my shirt and started sewing. "You had them didn't you?" he asked and I nodded. "Why didn't you drop her sooner. I told you the same thing!” he now started to get louder. "Why do you think I said that? Just so that doesn't happen here. You are my investment and cannot be hurt and prevented. And then for nothing.” It wasn't anger that could be heard but something like fear. He was afraid for me.

"Why do you think I gave you this job? Because I trust you! I can't lose you too.” I could see tears in his eyes now.

“In these boxes were only pictures. Worthless pictures of me and my brother!” he said in panic. "You didn't look worthless to me."

"What do you mean?" he asked and I reached into my waistcoat pocket and pulled out said photos.

"My photos" there was the smile from him.

"As grateful as I am to you." He looked at me intently. "Don't ever do that again. You have no idea what I would do to myself if you died out there.” he said while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"My brother was older than me..." he began to talk. That evening I learned his great fear of further loss or why he avoided touch. But what I loved hearing from him the most was why he had called me his investment.

.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・

I Hope that I don’t have any mistakes in it :)

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #six of crows

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your-divine-ribs · 2 months

Text

Ice Cold Part 7

Words: 2.8k

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear… I’m the jealous type” 💙

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

I slammed my hand down on the desk, my anger borne out of the frustration I felt at being temporarily pulled out of the field. I knew this kind of investigative work was key, but if the adrenaline wasn't flowing through my veins whilst I was in pursuit of my target I didn't feel alive.

I should have just been thankful that the convoluted and quite frankly far-fetched story that I’d fed Paul had been digested and believed, but I was restless, the ache inside me intensifying as I flicked through files containing photos of Van.

"Is this really necessary?" I addressed my boss as he came to a stop behind me, peering down at the photo I held in my hands. "I mean you and I both know I'm better when I'm out there."

He let out an audible sigh, pulling out the empty chair next to me and sitting down, leaning into me, hunched over, like he didn't want anyone else to hear the conversation.

"You were lucky the last two times, but one day your luck's going to run out. And I don't want to be the one responsible for sending you out there when it does."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "It kinda comes with the job. If I'd wanted safe and predictable I would have gone for a job in bloody accounting or something!"

He chuckled but it was short-lived, replaced by a stern kind of seriousness as he replied. "Don't underestimate the good work you're doing here. If we can get inside McCann's head we can calculate his next move. It's the only way we're going to stand a chance of catching him. It's like chasing a bloody ghost. He's running rings around us."

I pulled out a file on possible targets, leafing through. There were a lot. "This is impossible... Where do I start? I just don't have the patience for this. Please Paul... I know I fucked up... again. But it'll be the last time."

Paul got to his feet. "I must admit, you're the only one who's actually got close to him. But it's too soon for you to be out there. I don't know what he's playing at but I don't like it. Holding you hostage to try and make a deal?" He huffed. "He doesn't make deals. No... there's something else... there has to be. I just need to work out what it is..."

He looked off into the distance like he was searching for an answer there, and I was just relieved he couldn't see the heat that had risen to my cheeks from the lies I’d spun him.

"I'd getter get on anyway..." I mumbled, head down to pore over the files.

Paul walked away, still muttering to himself.

The long days sitting behind a desk weren't the only tedious parts of the job I’d been temporarily assigned. I had to face night after night in my pokey flat rather than staying in various hotels, with nothing but the television and a bottle of wine for company.

This wasn't me. I didn't do Saturday night TV and an an early night. I was restless, and by my second glass of wine I’d picked up my phone, opening up the Tinder app.

The first twenty profiles I flicked over were no-hopers. Hmm... this one had potential. I paused to read his bio. Looking for romance... Fuck that! I scrolled past thirty more, sighing and reaching for my wine again.

Oh... now this was more like it. He had an angular face and hair that hung long around his ears. Blue eyes. I held the phone away, scrunching up my eyes. If I squinted hard enough he could almost pass for...

Stop it Lyla!

What the fuck was wrong with me? I had to purge myself of this sordid fantasy before something bad happened. And this would probably be a good start. Within ten minutes I’d connected with 'Andy' and arranged a meeting at a pub in the city centre within the hour.

I shot upstairs to the shower, grabbing my razor to ensure sleekness everywhere and then I was poring over my underwear, choosing a sheer black lace set and slipping a tiny figure-hugging black dress over the top. I adjusted my cleavage in the mirror, taking in my smoky eyes and my cherry red lips, puckering up and blowing a kiss at my reflection. A little fizz of excitement shot through me as I stepped into my heels and made for the door.

The pub was loud and busy and my heart sank as I walked in and recognised Andy sitting at a nearby table. He shot me a wide smile with dazzling white teeth and stood up to greet me, air kissing me and hugging me warmly in an all too familiar way. He was certainly a good-looking guy but he just looked too... nice... clean-cut. I smiled sweetly at him, noting his eyes flitting down to my cleavage before he asked me what I wanted to drink. Well, at least that was a good start. God, why were men so easy to read?

Within half an hour we’d settled down with our drinks and were chatting easily. I’d spun my usual web of lies, telling Andy I had a dull job in marketing and my hobbies were shopping and watching Netflix, and he'd preened and postured about his senior role in investment banking, flashing his Rolex and the thick wad of cash in his wallet as he'd offered me yet another drink. I just went along with it, biding my time, fixing him with that wide-eyed slightly vacuous look as I hung on his every word, playing up to his ego.

I sighed as he got up to go to the bar, scrolling through my phone. It was always the same. Men were so... predictable. Most men anyway... Not like Van.

I couldn't help it. I flicked through my gallery, scrolling through the pictures of Van that I’d saved from recent assignments. Shit... the way even looking at a photo of him made my belly flip and heat radiate through my body.

"I thought we should move on to champagne next..." The voice snapped me out if my daydreams and I hurriedly locked my phone and looked up to see Andy hovering over me with two champagne flutes and an expensive looking bottle.

"Ooh lovely!" I injected fake enthusiasm into my voice. "Are we celebrating then?"

Andy flashed me his pearly whites as he took the seat next me this time rather than the one opposite that he'd been occupying. "Well... let's just say it's not every day you swipe right on a girl like you Lyla. I'll be honest with you. Most girls I've met up with just seem interested in the contents of my wallet. You seem... different. I know we've literally only just met, but... I don't know... there's something about you that intrigues me. I want to get to know you better."

My smile didn't match the sinking feeling in my gut. This was the last thing I needed when I was simply after some no-strings attached fun. I obviously needed to take a different approach.

So I fixed Andy with a steady gaze, slipping my hand on to his upper thigh under the table, squeezing it gently. "Look Andy... don't take this the wrong way... you seem like a really great guy... but I've just come out of a relationship. I'm really not looking for anything... serious. Can't we just have a bit of fun tonight?"

"Oh... errr... yeah...." Andy faltered, glancing down at my hand which was inching higher and higher as I spoke. "It's just that you seem like such a nice girl..."

Nice? I caught my bottom lip in between my teeth, leaning into Andy, my hand slipping up to his inner thigh right between his legs, making him jolt.

"Maybe I'm not such a nice girl..." I whispered breathily into his ear.

I heard his breath catch in his throat and smiled to myself. "Shall we go back to mine?" I purred.

Andy's eyes widened and he looked flustered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. God, I hoped he wasn't one of those weak men...

I closed the distance between us both quickly, pressing my lips to his, felt him shiver beneath my touch. When I pulled away he was still looking shell-shocked but now wearing a slick of my glossy lipstick.

"I... err... yeah… sure… we can go back to yours... I just... errr... I'm just going to the gents okay?" He stumbled to his feet and I drained my glass, tapping my nails on the table top... waiting.

My phone vibrated and lit up with a text notification, and I casually picked it up. It was an unknown number. Probably just some junk or a wrong number. I opened the message...

Lyla you ARE a bad girl...

Fuck! Anxiety ripped through me, my heart almost short-circuiting. My mouth suddenly went dry as I craned my neck, looking around the crowded pub, searching every face I saw and drawing a blank. Then I realised I was sat near a large window and I turned in my seat to look out. It was hopeless, the light from inside the pub made it impossible to see out into the night. However I could imagine how clearly I was lit up to anyone looking in. Like a shop window with the goods on display.

"Shall we go?" Andy's voice made me jump and I whirled around. Suddenly the prospect of stepping outside with this almost-stranger didn't seem so appealing. If Van was lurking in the shadows... but that was a ridiculous notion. Wasn't it?

"I... errr... I need to go and... use the ladies before we go..."

Now it was my turn to stumble over my words. I shot up out of my seat on shaky legs, grabbing my bag and coat and making for the door which led to the corridor where the toilets were located. I came to a stop, rapidly typing in a reply and hitting send.

Where are you?

I breathed deeply, willing my heart to slow down as I suddenly saw the tell-tale dots appear on the screen that indicated a reply was being typed.

Maybe I didn't make myself clear. I'm the jealous type.

"Shit!" I mumbled under my breath, starting to pace up and down the corridor.

I considered my options. I could ignore Van and take Andy home, try and act like my life wasn't really spiralling out of control at the behest of this dangerous man I hardly knew. Or I could ditch Andy and go home alone. Be a good girl... for Van. But then what?

I acted without thinking, glancing back once but then walking purposefully forward, pushing through the fire escape located at the end of the corridor and out into the night.

It was cold now and my breath came in frosty plumes. I shrugged into my jacket and made for the street, stealthily creeping past the open pub doorway so Andy wouldn't spot me.

The city centre was busy, full of groups of late-night drinkers, all going about their business, raised voices, smiling faces, not a care in the world apart from where their next pint or cocktail was coming from. I, on the other hand, was hurriedly making my way down the high street, glancing furtively around, checking the shadows in every shop doorway as I passed. I was shivering and it wasn't just from the chill evening air.

Maybe I should text him... or call... I quickly dismissed the idea. What a ridiculous thought! A dangerous assassin wanted in several countries and here I was, entertaining the idea of encouraging him. And to what end?

I knew what I should be doing. He'd left himself wide open contacting me on a phone number that my team could trace within minutes to a precise location. They could handle the trace whilst I called him... maybe I could keep him on the phone until one of the team could swoop in and capture him. Dead or alive. This could all be over tonight. But I didn't.

I was only five minutes from my apartment now so I picked up the pace. I’d left the hustle and bustle of the city streets behind and I was in a quiet residential area. My heels made loud clip-clop noises on the pavement as I pounded along, my breathing coming hard and fast, fear and anxiety spurring me on to get to the safety of my home as fast as possible.

I suddenly heard loud heavy footsteps behind me, and a strangled cry erupted from me as I stumbled to the side, my stiletto heel catching on a crack in the pavement.

"You alright love?" The male voice sounded right next to me and I looked up to see a young man dressed in running gear jogging on the spot.

Relief flooded me. "Yes... yes... I'm fine. Thank you." I blurted, then just as he was about to take off I called to him. "Um... excuse me? Gosh I am so sorry but I think... I think I'm being followed. Would you mind just walking with me? I only live on the next street."

The words tumbled out without me even thinking about them and I shocked myself. I’d trained with the best. Learnt the techniques to incapacitate much bigger, stronger people than Van. I’d come up against heinous gang members and murderously aggressive killers twice my build and still brought them to their knees. There was just something about Van that made me feel like a frightened little girl.

The kindly jogger agreed, chatting animatedly all the way to the end of the road, but it was a one-sided conversation. I was too busy glancing around, hoping I wasn’t leading this poor, unsuspecting man into some kind of danger.

There it was. My apartment block, right up ahead. The lights glowing from behind the curtains and blinds looked inviting. A safe haven.

"This is me... thank you so much! That was really kind of you!" I gushed to the man.

"That's okay love! Done my good deed for the day. Don't like to see a lady in distress! Are you sure I can't walk you to your apartment?"

"No... no it's fine... honestly," I assured him, forcing a smile. "State of the art security here. No one gets in without the key code!"

"Well if you're sure... goodbye..." And then he was off, waving goodbye.

I swiftly turned and pressed my key fob against the panel, simultaneously keying in the code, heard the quiet bleep and the catch engaging. My heart beat wildly as I pushed through the door, then I slammed it quickly shut, a sense of relief coursing through me as I looked out into the dark night. Safe at last.

My heart rate was already slowing as I called the lift and got in, hitting the button for floor number 7, resting my back against the wall and tipping my head back. I was covered in a light sheen of perspiration from my fear and exertion and I pushed my hair back, fanning myself with a hand.

The lift arrived and I cautiously peered into the corridor before stepping out.

Don't be silly Lyla, you're safe now.

I’d worry about the fact that Van may have potentially followed me and now knew where I lived tomorrow. He likely already knew anyway. Maybe I could go and stay with my aunt... my mum was out of the question but my aunt was nice and undemanding. She'd understand. I’d not seen her since... I pondered this as I fished my apartment key out of my bag and pushed through into the dark hallway, flicking on the light. Was it July? No... August. It was November now. Oh well, she knew I wasn’t one for staying in touch regularly. My mind was whirring with thoughts as I started down the short corridor to my kitchen....

And froze in my tracks...

The first thing I noticed was the faint smell of cigarette smoke. I stood stock still, hardly even daring to breathe, my ears straining to pick up the slightest noise. There was none. But there was that feeling, that spine-tingling sensation of a presence, the fine hairs raising on the back of my neck. I knew I wasn’t alone.

#ice cold #van mccann fanfic #au fanfic #vanfic

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moxxiejoestar · 1 year

Text

book of thoth the god of knowledge (10/?)

To see the future like fortune teller with Crystal ball

After Daniela went to Dan's universe one day, she once again failed at her goal of eating every opposite of her friends, defeated, she went back to her universe, but behind her, was one of her usual target, Liam, she was following her, as she knew there was an opposite of herself in her universe, who, she wants to meet, a male vulpix who probably wores similar clothes to her's, so, after a travel between universes and such, she arrived at her destination, even tho a bit lost she did knew the place, as it wasn't too changed, hidding from Daniela and waiting until she went away, Liam went ahead on her search, however, the search didn't result in anything, it seemed he wasn't around atm, now that she knew that, it was dangerous that she stayed, so she went back to were the portal was, to her suprise on the way back, the one she was looking for showed up and grabbed her, making sure she couldn't move, the guy was quite strong, showing huge muscles, she knew there was no chance of escaping, but tried to relax as it wasn't clear what his intentions were, "Who are you?, and why do you look like me???", Liam giggled and tried talking with him, "Im Liam, or~ you of another universe, whats your name?", he looked surprised and couldn't help but look at her confused, "Liam??!!, But if you are me, you should be the one who has a different name!" , To which, she responded: "I~ know, but its fine, it confuses those who meet me for the first time, its a male name but doesn't really mean i can't have it?, no need to think much about it, right?", he seemed calm, but also quite annoyed, and instead of letting her go, he decided it would be best to fix the mistake that was bothering him, not her, but the misuse of his name.

"Well then, Liam, I think its really, really dumb you have my name, you already know why, even Daniela's clone has a name that fits him, so i'll do you a favor and fix it for you!.", And with that, he quickly grabbed her feet and started eating her, more than doing it for fun, he had a plan, but it required a stomach full of literally himself, each swallow took her deeper inside, while she kicked and struggled, with no luck, he seemed used to prey trying to escape, her fur coated in saliva was the least of her problems, having been eaten feet first, it was hard being able to move, once her chest was inside, all she could do is push with her hands on the sides of the maw to try and get out, only for them to slip and end up in the back of the strong throat that quickly was pulling her in, not long after, her head was all that is left, one last effort to get out was made: "Um~ im guessing you don't want to talk about this?, maybe there is another... ", *GULP*, Thats all she got in responce, sending her to the stomach of the vulpix, unable to move she slid down and joined the rest of her body in the round stomach, which didn't last long as it got really, really tight around her as he let out a huge belch, afterwards all he said to her was: "I have a better idea, Hurry up and Warm the stomach already, so you add to me and become someone who uses the name correctly!!", And with that he didn't digesting her, she knew that he wasn't gonna let her go, or want to talk more about this, no other option was given, she isn't dumb however, as she ate a reviver seed beforehand, but it would have been better if this hadn't happened.

The soft, tight walls of the stomach she was in, did allow her to move at all, only struggle as the stomach keeps warmer more and more, it seemed that this guy wasn't just strong in looks, but had a ton of experience as a pred, enough to cuddle anyone really, really fast, he was happy with her not digesting already, but waited patiently as he knew it wouldn't be long, Liam felt tired, and watched as her feet and legs kicked gentle, she was already falling asleep and she didn't want that to happen, seems her trip would end in a way she didn't expected, or wanted, even if not worried about her destiny as fat on him, she was more disappointed than anything that her male version wasn't as nice as she wanted him to be, as time went on, she kept warm, and in less than 30 minutes, the bulges in the outside that looked exactly like her, turned into a round, soft gut, which was only inside with warm and soft remains, Male Liam smiled, and was happy with his hunt, "I ate myself, isn't that fun?, i like her more this way", he thought to himself while rubbing the remaining pudge, walking away to have some rest after soft vore his big meal of the day~

This is Moxxie joestar & this is what thoth & boingo told me this future so beware of it & stay tuned folks!

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luniellar · 3 months

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Broken (Dain's POV) - The Empyrean Series Fanfiction

Rules exist to protect the ones you love. There were consequences to every rule broken. A chain reaction that was unpredictable and dangerous.

Father always made sure I understood that.

These are recorded events from the Empyrean series from Dain's POV. ___________________

All rights to Rebecca Yarros for her original work and original characters. ___________________

Contains: Fourth Wing and Iron Flame Spoilers Warnings: Language

Read on: AO3 | Wattpad

Fourth Wing: Chapter 16 - The Threshing

Dain Aetos

Cath. I called out. Any updates?

My anxiety was building as the sun started to set on the horizon. I should be there.

No, you should not. There is nothing you can do. Cath replied, slightly irritated from my anxious state today. He showed me what he was seeing as he scanned the fields. From his vantage point I could see hints of the different dragon’s colors peeking through the woods.

It was against the rules to interfere. Maybe sending Cath out to be my eyes could be considered an interference. I clenched my jaws and looked around the second and third years around me making bets on who would bond. I stepped away from the chatter into a quieter area.

Confusion stirred around me as I felt Cath making his way back. Did it happen? Did she bond?

She bonded with Tairn.

Wait, Tairn? I didn’t know he was going to bond again. Especially since his last rider-

She bonded with Andarna.

Andarna? Cath, didn’t you just say she bonded with-?

I said what I said. After a short pause, Cath spoke again. She bonded with Tairn and Andarna. There will be an Empyrean meeting.

I swallowed. The Empyrean meeting was a rare occurrence and there was never a rider who bonded with two dragons before. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

I turned and headed for the clearing where Violet along with other new riders will be dismounting for the first time today.

❈ ❈ ❈

Violet.

She did it. My shoulders relaxed as I finally took a long exhale since the first years left this morning. My heart radiated with warmth. She was glowing in the crowd of other first years around her. I knew she would make it. I caught myself in my own thoughts. But did I? Painful memories from the last two years came rushing in, reminding me that no one was the exception. Not even the General’s daughter.

I imagined the face of Malek, indifferent, heartless as he watched the souls of each dead first year from Threshing lined up at his door.

In long powerful strides, I walked through the crowd of celebrating first years and spun her body by the shoulders and pulled her into my chest.

Violet. I never wanted to let her go.

“Damn it. Violet. Just…damn.” I squeeze her as tight as I can before pulling away to take a good look at her. She was covered in dried crimson splatters and it was heavily concentrated on her leg and arm. Was it the dragon? Heat radiated through my body as I thought of other possibilities. Fuck, if it was anyone else…

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she tries to assure me. Fine? She was covered in blood looking like a dragon tossed around with her for fun before bonding. Her face expression drops. “But we’re all that’s left of our squad’s first-years.”

I saw the sadness in her eyes and looked at the others. We were missing more than half the squad, but there was nothing new about that. It was Threshing. “Four out of nine. That’s to be expected. The dragons are currently holding a meeting of the Empyrean - their leadership. Stay here until they return.” I glanced over at Violet. “You come with me.”

I tugged her along until we reached the opposite edge of the field, hidden in shadow. When I knew no one was around our listening distance, I looked at her. “What the actual fuck happened out there? Because I’ve got Cath telling me that not only did Tairn choose you but so did the small one - Adarn?” I intertwine our fingers together in desperation. I just wanted her to be safe. This just put a huge target on her back and there were already many to begin with.

“Andarna,” her voice corrected me. I watched as a small smile appeared on her face. The smile I saw many times growing up. I knew she was happy. It should be as simple as that. But, Tairn had a mate. A very well known navy blue daggertail. The only thing I could do now was convince her to pick Andarna. Sharing a bond with Riorson was a death sentence for Violet.

“They’re going to make you choose.” I said, preparing her.

“I’m not choosing.” She pulled her hand away from mine and shook her head. “No human has ever chosen, and I’m not about to be the first.”

She was the first. I was so proud of her, but I needed her in my life more than anything. I couldn’t lose her to a mated dragon bond that was thicker than blood.

“You are.” Violet stared back at me in anger. This was not going the way I planned, I can feel the desperation taking over me. “You have to trust me. You do trust me, right?”

She hesitated for a quick second. “Of course I do-”

There. That’s all I needed. I needed to press while I still had her. I hated arguing with her more than anything. “Then you have to choose Andarna. The gold one is the safest choice of the two.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. I could see that she was thinking, maybe trying to reach out to her dragons. But the Empyreans were meeting. There was no way she or any of us could listen to that conversation.

“I’m not choosing,” she said softly.

My heart broke. “You are. And it has to be Andarna.” I reached for her shoulders and leaned in. The softer features of her younger face were slowly fading away, replaced by stronger features of a strong woman. I saw General Sorrengail's features on her. She was slipping away from the Violet I knew.

“I know she’s too small to bear a rider-”

“That hasn’t been tested,” she countered. But I knew it from her face. She was smart. Smarter than anyone I knew and there was no way she believed her own words. Her feelings were messing with her logic.

“It doesn’t matter. It will mean that you won’t be able to ride with a wing, but they’ll probably make you a permanent instructor here like Kaori.”

Fuck, she was mad. My Kaori’s example got shot down because she knew about his signet and his requisite with a combat win before teaching. I was running out of ideas. How else was I supposed to tell her the risk? How do I tell her that she will no longer experience freedom? A part of her life would be to tend to the needs of Tairn. When Tairn needed to see Sgaeyl, he would be delivering Violet straight to Xaden’s front door.

I needed to be honest with her. “Even if you take Andarna into combat, there’s only a chance you’ll be killed. You take Tairn, and Xaden will get you killed. You think Melgren is terrifying? I’ve been here for a year longer than you have, Vi. At least you know what you’re getting when it comes to Melgren. Xaden isn’t only twice as ruthless, but he’s dangerously unpredictable.”

I watched the certainty from her face wash away with a single blink. “Wait. What are you saying?”

She didn’t know? “They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.” I explained.

I could see from the silence that her mind was spinning, digesting the information I just shared with her. Her face was fumbling as the consequences of her decision came tumbling down on her. Oh, Violet. I wanted to hold her in my arms.

“Just… tell me how it happened.” I say softly over to her.

Violet told me about the fucking pieces of shits, Jack and his friends, hunting down Andarna. Xaden was watching her and warned her of an attack from Oren. Once I heard his name, my mind hyper focused on one thing only… Xaden had interfered.

“Xaden was there,” I said to Violet knowing well how his name sounds in my voice this time around. I sound disgusted.

She nodded and added, “but he left after Tairn showed up.”

“Xaden was there when you defended Andarna, and then Tairn just.. showed up?” I asked for clarification. My blood started to boil as anger consumed me. Xaden. He had set it up. Not only did he interfere, but he set all of this up.

My voice grew louder as my grip around her tightened out of my control. “Don’t you see what happened? What Xaden’s done?”

“Please, do tell me what it is you think I’ve done.” The familiar voice spoke as a shape emerged from the shadows into the moonlight. Xaden. Perfect, just the person I was looking for.

“You manipulated Threshing.” I let go of Violet and turned to face Xaden. He knew exactly what he was doing. Every single moment was calculated from the beginning.

“Is that an official accusation?” Xaden replied.

“Did you step in?” I demanded. I needed him to admit the dirty tricks he played.

“Did I what?” Xaden stared directly at me. “Did I see her outnumbered and already wounded? Did I think her bravery was as admirable as it was fucking reckless?” He glanced over at Violet and she straightened her posture.

“And I would do it again.” She raised her chin. Oh gods.

As Xaden and Violet shared a moment, my mind drifted. Feeling the stinging words from Xaden, all I could think about was how I wanted to be there for her. I could have killed those boys for her. I felt a pang of regret. Xaden saw what I saw in her. One the many reasons why I will always love her. He saw her bravery. My mind reminded me how she would stand up for others even when we were younger.

When Xaden glared back at me, he pulled me out of my thoughts. “Did I see her fight off three bigger cadets? Because the answer to all those is yes. But you're asking the wrong question, Aetos. What you should be asking is if Sgaeyl saw it, too.”

I looked away. I didn’t even think about this. Sgaeyl called for Tairn. They were a mated pair after all.

“She’s never been a fan of bullies. But don’t mistake it as an act of kindness toward you. She’s fond of the little dragon. Unfortunately, Tairm chose you all on your own.” Xaden explained.

“Fuck,” I muttered. I didn’t like Xaden. He was the last thing from warm hugs and smiles, but I knew he was telling the truth even without looking at his memories. You can’t control the actions of mated dragons. Together, they wrote their own law.

Xaden moved towards me. “Would you really level that accustion knowing it would have been what saved the woman you call your best friend?”

I felt transparent. It was like he could see through me. Violet was more than a best friend to me, but I couldn’t admit that here. He was cornering me. But, rules exist to protect the ones you love. There were consequences to every rule broken. A chain reaction that was unpredictable and dangerous. Father always made sure I understood that.

“There are… rules.” I looked at Xaden.

“And out of curiosity, would you have, let’s say, bent those rules to save your precious little Violet in that field?”

The fuck? Anger and chaos broke loose inside me as I glared at him.

“That’s unfair to say to him,” Violet’s voice whispered. She wanted me to know it was okay. Maybe she already knew what my answer was, she always knew me better than I knew myself after all.

“I’m ordering you to answer, squad leader.” Xaden pressed.

Orders. I was given orders by my wingleader to answer. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. “No. I wouldn’t have.”

I turned to Violet and my heart clenched. It was too late. I already saw how much I hurt her. She knew I had to follow the rules, but didn't want to believe that. I made it a reality for her. “It would have killed me to watch something happen to you, Vi, but the rules-” I started.

It was the truth. The reason why I wanted to make sure she was under my supervision. If she died under my watch, it only meant one thing. I failed to protect her. My life would be meaningless.

“It’s all right.” She cut me off. Her hand touched my shoulder.

She was lying. Telling me it was fine looking like a tattered piece of cloth, telling me it was all right when I should have stood up for her. Was this our new relationship? Did we lie to each other now?

“The dragons are returning. Get back to formation, squad leader.” Xaden ordered.

Another order. An order I followed without question. I tore my eyes from Violet.

I didn’t want to be here anymore. I hurt her enough.

❈ ❈ ❈

As General Sorrengail addressed the new riders, my eyes focused on Violet. It was time to celebrate. My dragon branding tingled on my shoulder, remembering the pain from last year. I clenched my jaw and fists as I watched from a distance as Violet felt the pain.

Cath told me the decision was made. Violet was going to keep both dragons. I was happy for her. There was no one else on this Continent who deserved it more than her. When I saw that she was starting to catch her breath, I made my way over.

“Violet!” You kept both of them!” I smiled.

She smiled back too. “I guess I did.”

I felt pure joy between us. I helped her unlace the top of her gear so she could see what her dragon relic looked like. I took a sharp inhale when I saw it. Two dragons, one white, one black, overlayed on top of another stretching across her shoulder. Her dragon relic, like her, was beautiful.

Lacing her top back up, I built up the courage to talk to her. “You have to know that I would do anything to save you, Violet, to keep you safe," panic stirs in my heart when I meet her eyes. “What Riorson said…”

“I know,” trying her best to sound reassuringly, she nodded. “You always want me safe.”

It was true. I wanted her safe. I didn’t want her to know the shit that existed outside her books. There was nothing I wanted more than to shelter her from this, from all of this. I could see death everyday for the rest of my life if it meant she would never have to see it.

“You have to know how I feel about you.” I stroked my thumb gently over her cheek. Her skin was so soft. I looked into her eyes searching for a sign. Did she want me? She lived rent free in my head, but was I just a friend to her?

I leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were like soft pillows that greeted you after a long day. She tasted like how I always imagined her to taste, sweet and warm. Pressing my lips against hers harder, I felt like a new breath of life was blown into me. I was alive.

I pulled away, smiling. I could feel the eyes on us as I finally revealed my secret card to her. When I looked into her eyes, I knew something was wrong. I shouldn’t have searched for an answer.

I wasn’t losing her.

I had already lost her.

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