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#so many can just be opened with a technique called “shove it in there and jiggle it around”
invinciblerodent · 4 months
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oh god Astarion really is literally the lockpicking lawyer in the most authentic way
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agippangs · 9 months
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Hellooooo can you pleaseee bless us wih harddom!jeongin headcannons? Thank you :) ❤️
oh absolutely i have many many thots 😵‍💫
warnings: hard dom!jeongin, afab reader; all kinks f receiving, mentions of: choking, spit kink, cum swallowing, noona kink, hair pulling, face slapping // everything is consensual!
hard dom!jeongin who makes good use of his pretty hands, knowing how much of a slut you are for them, that you’d let him do anything. he chokes you of course, pulls your hair by the roots, squeezes your ass until it bruises, even slaps you in the face from time to time if you’ve been particularly bratty. but his favorite is shoving his fingers into your mouth; whether it’s one or three, he thinks it’s so cute how eagerly you close your lips around them and suck.
“that’s it sweetie, swallow my fingers up, get them all wet. maybe next time if you behave you’ll get my cock.”
hard dom!jeongin who loves making a mess of you with his spit. spits everywhere: on your face, your chest, your cunt and ass when he goes down on you, even smears it around just to watch it glisten. loves the primality of spitting in your mouth after eating his own cum right out of you. be a good girl and open up nice and wide so he can’t miss; sometimes he will on purpose though, if he’s feeling extra sadistic.
“get ready,” he hisses before diving into your cunt, gathering the mess to feed to you. he hovers over you, hinging your jaw open with his thumb, pressing it down on your tongue and letting globs of your combined release slide down your throat. “don’t we taste good together?”
hard dom!jeongin who gets off on the fact that he’s turned an older woman into his a useless whore, nothing but a few holes to fuck. tease him about your age gap in front of his friends if you really want to rile him up, guarantee you won’t walk for days after he’s done with you. he loves to call you noona in bed but with a patronizing arrogance, especially when he takes you from behind, face down ass up, one hand forcing you down so he can cage you in and whisper it into your ear.
“i’m a baby, huh? seems like noona needs the ‘baby’ to take care of her. you’re lucky i’m feeling nice today, noona barely deserves it.”
hard dom!jeongin whose favorite part is secretly the aftercare. he now knows exactly what it is you need by your body language. water? always on the nightstand before you even start. food? he smiles and sings to himself while whipping up some jazzed up instant noodles. feeling lost? has a set of physical grounding techniques at the ready! you sub dropped once with him very early on and since then, he’s put a lot of effort into learning how to take care of you. confidently knowing he’s ready no matter the scenario helps fight his own insecurities as a partner. the truth is, he lowkey needs it more than you.
“i’m here baby,” he hums, thumbing tears away from your glazed over eyes. he brings you upright so your back rests against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you in the kindest, gentlest hold, aware of your current sensitivity. “can you put your hand up, angel? i want you to touch each finger to mine one at a time and count them out loud. there you go, doing so well for me, darling. i love you, you know that right?”
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solarmorrigan · 6 months
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hallo! I saw the angsty prompt list thing, and the “don’t trust me.” One kind of stood out to me. You don’t have to write it, but you’re one of my favorite writers on here so I thought it might be cool :)
Hullo! So I did fill this prompt once already, but I'd had a bunch of ideas for it and I was in the mood for something a little softer, so I did another! Thanks for giving me the opening to write it (and for the compliment, you're so kind?? 😭)
[General warning for mention of Steve's shitty parents and their generally shitty parenting technique]
Angsty-ish Prompt List
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“Why am I the one doing this?” Steve grouses, straining slightly as he struggles with the full box on the top shelf. “Instead of, y’know, you?”
“You’re stronger than me,” Eddie replies readily.
“Bullshit, I’ve seen you lugging amps and shit around during your shows,” Steve shoots back, grumbling as he works the box free from the high shelf.
“You got me.” Eddie grins, though Steve’s back is turned to him. “I just like watching you work, sweetheart.”
From the depths of the storage closet, Steve gives an audible snort of laughter, but he also stops arguing. Then, with a little noise of triumph, Steve finally manages to tug the box free, holding it aloft long enough to back out of the closet and then heaving it down onto the floor, where it lands in a clatter of plastic and jingling bells.
“Excellent.” Eddie falls upon the box, rubbing his hands together in anticipation before tugging at the tucked flaps. “There’s one more box, would you mind? It’s on the floor; long rectangle.”
“You said there was one box,” Steve says, eyes narrowed.
“Whoops, miscounted,” Eddie says breezily, smiling up at Steve with as much innocence as he can muster. “You know how bad I am at all that academic shit.”
“Says the guy who plays a math game for fun,” Steve drawls.
For the sake of time, Eddie leaves the bait where it is, instead batting his eyelashes up at Steve. “Pretty please, pretty boy? It’s definitely the last one.”
Steve holds out for exactly five more seconds before retreating into the closet with a roll of his eyes. “If you suddenly remember one more after this, I’m suddenly gonna remember something I have to do back at my house and leave you to do all the decorating on your own,” he calls back, muffled from behind the coats Eddie can hear him shoving aside to find the last box.
Eddie’s at least eighty percent sure he’s bluffing, but it’s no matter – he hadn’t been lying. Most of what he needs is in the box in front of him: strands of garland, wrapped tangles of lights, and the same ugly pinecone wreath with the world’s most annoying string of jingle bells attached that Wayne’s been hanging since Eddie was a kid. Everything else—the ornaments, more lights, and, of course, the tree—is in the hefty, rectangular box Steve is currently hauling out into the entryway.
Normally, Wayne would be there to help, but his and Eddie’s work schedules have fallen out of sync in the hectic holiday rush of extra shifts; if one has the day off, the other is too tired by the time they get home to entertain anything as energy-consuming as getting up on a ladder to hang lights. Eddie and Steve, however (somehow; miraculously), share at least one day off a week, which has seen Steve recruited as Eddie’s backup decorating partner.
“That it?” Steve breathes as releases the box and stands straight, tugging his sweater down from where it’s ridden up (Eddie can’t believe he’s dating someone who unironically wears ugly Christmas sweaters. He can’t believe Steve makes them look good).
“That’s it,” Eddie promises. He plucks two balled-up strings of lights from the box in front of him and stands up, one under each arm. “So here’s what I’m thinking: I’ll get started on the outside, while you,” Eddie puts a boot to the tree box and shoves it towards Steve with a grunt; even across the laminate flooring it doesn’t slide easy, practically cocooned in layers of packing tape from so many years of opening and resealing, “get the tree going.”
Already halfway wrapped up in how he’s going to string the lights (he’d always loved decorating the outside of the trailer, and now he gets to figure out a new configuration for the tiny porch on his and Wayne’s equally tiny new house; it ain’t much, as they say, but it’s home – or, at least, it’s starting to feel like it), Eddie nearly misses the look of confusion that crosses Steve’s face.
“Uh… how do you want it set up?” Steve asks.
Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “Stand goes on the floor, pointy end goes up. I have faith in you, Steve.”
Steve rolls his eyes again, but with his frown in place he looks like he might actually be irritated. “I mean, you have to tell me how you want it, like, decorated and shit. Where it’s supposed to go, that sort of thing.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve decorated a tree before, man,” Eddie says. “I know I saw one at your house last time I was there.”
“Yeah, but that’s my house. This is yours. You have to tell me how you want it,” Steve says.
Once again for the sake of time, Eddie leaves the obvious opening for a joke where it lies. “Steve, it’s – y’know, lights, garland, ornaments, it’s not rocket science. I trust you to do a good job.”
“No, don’t trust me, just tell me how you want it decorated,” Steve insists. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to do it wrong.”
“It’s… a Christmas tree, sweetheart,” Eddie says slowly. “You can’t do it wrong.”
“Oh, I assure you, I can,” Steve says with a laugh. “Seriously, like – people are super particular about how their trees are set up, I think. My mom always has been. I remember when I was, like, ten, she and my dad had been away for a while, and we were coming up on Christmas pretty fast, and none of the decorations were up, so I figured I’d at least put the tree up. Surprise them when they got home, right? Except my mom lost her shit when they got home and saw it.”
“Noooot in a good way, I take it,” Eddie hazards.
“Nah, I did it all wrong. The tinsel wasn’t spread out right, and there’s only supposed to be a certain number of ornaments on each branch, and she wanted the angel on top, not the star, so she made me take the whole thing down.” Steve shrugs. “So, seriously, even if you don’t think you have a certain way you want it done, I’ll probably manage to find the exact way you don’t want it, so you should just tell me.”
“Steve, I promise, that tree is, like, older than I am; you can’t make it worse. As long as you don’t set it on fire, I’ll be happy with it,” Eddie says.
“That’s not–” Steve cuts himself off, running one hand through his hair with a strained little laugh. “I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me how you want it done.”
Eddie shakes his head, dropping the bundles of lights back into their box; he hates when this happens – hates when he stumbles over some mundane thing that Steve’s parents have fucked up for him that Eddie only manages to poke like a kid with a sharp stick at a beehive because he didn’t even realize it could be an issue. Who the fuck gives their kid a complex over how the Christmas tree is decorated? Who does that?
(Then again, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about more than just their expectations for the tree.)
“Okay, I need you to listen to me,” Eddie says, voice firm but hands gentle as he reaches for Steve’s own. “I swear I’m not trying to set you up for failure. I’m really not. The tree isn’t supposed to look perfect. It’s supposed to be kinda crooked and covered in dumb ornaments you can’t even remember the stories behind and only have, like, half a string of popcorn around it because you ate most of it when your uncle wasn’t looking and didn’t leave enough for the tree.”
Steve stares at him, brows furrowed, like he’s trying to piece what Eddie’s telling him into what he already knows about the world, like he needs both things to be true, even though they don’t fit together.
“Actually…” Eddie says slowly, deciding that it may be best to change tack, “come to think of it, there’s one thing about decorating the tree that I should’ve told you. Most important thing, really. Can’t believe I forgot.”
“What?” Steve asks, halfway between wary and eager for the instruction.
“You’re supposed to do it together. That’s what makes it good.” Eddie lets go of one of Steve’s hands to smack the heel of his own to the side of his forehead. “Duh. Silly me.”
Steve shakes his head, letting it hang forward with a little huff of a laugh as some of the tension leeches from his shoulders. “You’re such a dork, do you know that?”
“Mhm,” Eddie hums, grabbing Steve by the front of that stupid, ugly sweater (it has reindeer on it, how does it not look awful on him?) and pulling him up for a quick kiss. “So how about you help me do the outside lights, and then we’ll come back inside and do the tree together?”
One last flicker of uncertainty crosses Steve’s face. “What about Wayne?”
A flutter of fondness rolls through Eddie’s chest, the same as it always does when Steve doesn’t just consider Eddie, but the things and people important to him. “His favorite part is stringing the popcorn. We can do that when he gets home.”
“Oh.” Steve nods, as though he is considering this very seriously, then smirks at Eddie. “Should we make some to eat before he gets back, so you leave enough for the tree?”
Eddie smacks him on the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Alright, Harrington, just for that, you’re the one untangling the lights.”
“What, like it’s a punishment?” Steve asks. “I’m great at untangling Christmas lights.”
“Oh, baby,” Eddie presses a hand to his heart and pretends to swoon over the box of decorations, “when you say things like that, it makes me want to keep you forever.”
And Steve’s answering grin at that is far brighter than anything they’re going to decorate with today, Eddie is certain.
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Mortal - Chapter 2
A Geto Suguru x fem!Reader fanfiction
Words: 1871
Warnings: abusive household
Summary: Mimico and Nanako get into a horrible car accident after a drunk night with their friends. Geto is called to the hospital where he discovers you, a human plagued by a cursed spirit, who saved his two precious daughters' lives from the fire.
Chapter info: After the burns you suffered when saving Mimiko and Nanako from the crash, your father, disgusted by your skin, brings you to a temple where a miracle healer is known to work. Little do you know the monk you are meant to meet is none other than Suguru himself.
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"They're going to open a new cat cafe in Shibuya!", Nanako excitedly shoved her phone to Mimiko. They sat together in their futons, the floor around them filled with various curiosities Geto had brought to keep them entertained during recovery.
"It looks so cuuuute!", Mimiko squeeled.
"Nanako...", Suguru sighed as he put some of the various books and board games back in their place, "I don't see what's so exciting about a place with so many of those monkeys"
"But it will have so many kittens as well!", Nanako turned the screen of the phone towards him.
Suguru smiled at the small basket of kittens that lay among pink pillows in the middle of the brand-new cafe. Nanako slid her finger on the screen and changed the picture with one of the countless cat-paths that ran along the walls of the establishment. "Focus on getting well and we'll go", he ruffled the girls' hair with his large hands.
"We are already better, we could go now", Mimiko pouted.
"Your cursed energy is still pretty drained from healing", said Suguru, "If the worst happens you won't be able to defend yourselves". He gave a warm smile to the girls' frowns. "It's only one more day", he promised before getting up, "Now, I’m going to work. Behave"
The day passed slowly. Time after time a human would show up in the large audience chamber and plead for salvation. It was not unusual for these people to have curses latched on them, in which case Suguru fully exploited his technique to gather more power for himself. Neither it was entirely uncommon for him to crush one of these vermins like a bug for his own entertainment, after they had no curses nor money to offer him.
"Filthy monkeys", he murmured in disgust when a mother and daughter left earshot, "Do we have anyone else?"
"Just one more pair is waiting"
"Fine", Suguru let out an exhausted breath,Bring them in"
His eyes widened as they fell upon your slumped form, walking shyly next to a man. Your hands were still covered in bandages, your face had a few scars. You kept your eyes low and disinterested as you walked towards him. He wondered whether you'd recognize him if you lifted them up. No. It did not matter. Your body was plagued with a number of parasitic curses, more than the day he saw you in the hospital. You had come to the temple for one reason only, just like all the rest of your weak kind.
"Greetings your Holiness ", Suguru had forgotten about the man who escorted you. The man had a strange aura about him; he was leaking cursed energy constantly, much like all humans, yet it gathered around you to create more curses to plague your body. "I would like you to help fix my daughter", the man said.
"Fix?", Suguru repeated the word.
"Look", you winced as the man grabbed your arms to show Suguru. He pulled away the tidy bandages to expose your blistered skin. "She went and got herself like this", the man complained, "She was already ugly as it was, now no one will want her"
Suguru clenched his fists as he forced a smile on his face. "Of course I can do that", he said getting on his feet. He walked towards the man and placed his arm between him and you. "Come let's talk some details in private", he guided him away into another room.
"Thank you", said the father, "She's already such a disappointment honestly. She's becoming an old maid, she should be married by now but you know how women are now. They want careers and money and forget their place"
Suguru could feel a twitch creeping up to his eye. He had to stay calm. "Of course. I understand", he placed his hand on the man's shoulder. It would be easy to kill him. His fingers trembled in excitement at the thought. His eyes dared the man to utter more of his depraved opinions even though the man never noticed them. "Please wait here for a bit", Suguru pulled his hand away.
His gaze turned into stone as soon as he turned to walk back to the hearing room. He wanted to kill this man more than anything else but he wanted to make sure what your reaction would be. He did not want you panicking and causing commotion around his newfound home. He did not want to have to silence you too.
He slid the door closed behind him. Your head lowered, your gaze was focused on the little soda embroideries on your socks.
"I never expected a woman who ran straight into a fire to remain so silent", he let his critisism be known with a stern voice.
Your eyes seemed surprised as they met his scolding gaze. "It's you..."
Suguru walked towards you. He gestured to your wounded hands and you gave them to him to examine. His touch was soft and careful as it unwrapped the bandage to check the blisters underneath. He raised his gaze to the scars on your face. "Do you mind?", his hand hovered over your skin. You nodded in approval. He pulled your hair away from your cheek. He took out a small handkerchief and wetted it on his tongue before bringing it to your face. His hand held yours so you would not pull away when you tried to avoid it. The cloth scrubbed your make-up off the slight purple taint of a bruise.
"These are uh....these are older", you said.
"I can see that", his voice brimmed with disgust and rage.
He lowered his hand to stand over your shoulder and summoned the lot of your curses in his command. They turned into dust, forming little black and gold marbles in his palm.
"How does that feel?", he asked.
"Huh?", even with just saying that you felt the tremendous amount of weight that was removed from your body, "Oh. Wow! What did you do?"
"That is my secret", Geto smiled.
You stopped to observed him. "Why did you do that?", you asked.
Suguru frowned in confusion. "I'm sorry?"
"Why did you help me?", you said, "I thought...I had a feeling you didn't like me"
She was right. She had seen right through the fake joyous expression he put on to please those around him. His smile faded away. He did not know what to respond as he was not himself sure of why he had helped.
"Look at it as repayment", his fake smile returned, "For saving my daughters".
Yes. That's what it was. Just repaying a debt to a lowly human. He was the sorcerer, he had to honor his debts, even to a monkey like you.
"Now let me take a look at your arms-"
His arm wrapped around your waist to guide you to a table at the other side, but as he touched you your body winced in pain. Suguru's smile fell once more. He took heavy breaths. If your face was marked then your body had to be too.
"Please. Lift your shirt", he kept his lgaze on the ground as he gritted his teeth.
You took a few moments to answer reluctantly "I don't want to".
"Are there more bruises?", Suguru fisted his hands. You shook your head. "So, there are", Suguru surmised.
"It's okay", you told him, "I'm used to it"
Those simple words flipped Suguru off like turning a switch. He saw the twins locked up in a cell, the whole town pointing their fingers toward them as they sent people to torture them. He saw Haibara, his body splayed on a table, never to cheer anyone again. He saw Riko, her wholesome smile beaming on her face before a bullet split her skull.
"Mr monk?", your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Your eyes were examining him in confusion.
"It's Geto. Suguru Geto", he muttered as he massaged the bridge of his nose.
"Oh. Then Geto-san. Tha-"
"How much do you hate your father?", Suguru asked with a murderous gaze, "Do you loathe him? Would you like to be free of him?"
Your brows furrowed. "I don't think I like your tone", you challenged his gaze.
Suguru was surprised to see the fire behind your eyes. Where had it gone, he wondered, when your father stood next to you. "Apologies", Suguru smiled, "I see what you could have thought. I only meant to offer you a room here at the temple so you'd be able to escape the house"
"O-oh", you stammered, "I don't think he'd let me leave". You had tried to get away from the house before. Gathered money to rent a place outside Tokyo for a while. Until your father found it and took it for himself, saying that a good daughter takes care of her parents.
"I shall handle that", Geto smiled, "I'll just say I need some time to...heal...you as he put it. I guess it is not a question of if you want to anymore..."
He buried his hands in his sleeves and gave a slight bow before turning away to the door. It was not long before he reached the man in question. Suguru forced a pleasant expression in his face. He thought about killing the man right then and there but he surmised that would shock you enough to run away. And he could not have that. He needed you there, close to him, so he could protect you like he could not protect all the others. But still, he could not leave that bastard walk out unscathed.
"Sir", Suguru smiled as he returned to your father. He threw his hand over the man's shoulder. "I'm afraid this will take a little while", the curses he had gathered from you were released to plague the man s body, "She'll be safe with us at the temple. You can come visit in a few days"
The man's breath turned laboured by the curses' weight as he was guided outside. "A...alright...as long...as long as you bring results I guess"
Geto smiled at him until he disappeared under the stairs of the courtyard. He hastily pulled out his disinfectant and sprayed it around his body and even all around the room.
"All done!", he said as soon as he returned to the room.
"Your eyes widened. "Seriously?", you exhaled in disbelief.
"Of course. Come now, i'll see you to your room"
He guided you by the hand to a guest apartment he kept. He ordered one of his servants to fetch you some things from your house that you wanted and provided you with everything else. He bid you goodnight before returning to his room.
He leaned back on the wall. He looked at his hand, your warmth still lingering between his fingers. What on Earth was the matter with him? Why did he help you more than it benefitted his goals? You were a monkey. He should not care whether you lived in peace or despair. Yet there was something about you that reminded him of his days in school. Something of Satoru. Something of Shoko.
Something of Amenai.
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tracksidequeen · 2 years
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Fading Smiles to Burning Love
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Summary: Toto, the eye capturing unapproachable guy. You, a girl too busy to even think you could ever cross someone else's mind. What connects you? One dream, one passion; one offer changing your life. The truth has a way of unraveling in ways you could’ve never expected.
Pairing: YoungToto!RacingInstructor x Reader
Words: 3.2K
*****
“Marcus, hurry up we’re already late!” you shout without any affect. “Calm down, calm down. Jeez!” At his own pace he undoes his seatbelt, straightens his coat and opens the car-door. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” With one leg out of the car he looks back at you with a confused look on his face, and slowly slides back in.
“Thank you sis,” he mumbles awkwardly and he pats your leg.
“No, idiot! Your backpack!”
You turn in your seat to grab it from the backseat and mutter under your breath. “Here,” you shove it in his hands. “Now go, I’ll try to find a parking-space.”
Marcus hops out of the car and puts on his backpack which was filled with his racing gear, the size of it so out of proportion with his height. He turns around with a sour face, but nonetheless waves you goodbye as he enters the racetrack-facility. As much as you hate him, you love him double that amount; not that you’d ever tell him that.
With your parents working abroad half the time, you going to college and Marcus being taken care of by his au-pair, you try as much as you can to be there for him. To stand by his side with the things that make him happy. To cheer him on in his passions. To make him feel like he has somewhat of a family. Even if that means spending the weekends at the racetrack, while your friends are out partying. Yet you wouldn’t change it for the world.
‘Lechner Racing School, where the good become legendary’ reads the sign above the canteen-entrance as you enter it to grab yourself a drink before you dare to take on the summer heat - sitting outside in the burning sun on a boiling plastic seat is not one of your many joys in life. “Two bottles of Ice tea please, and a kilo of ice while you’re at it,” you joke at Lex whose been tending the bar since forever, and has seen many young talents come and go. “I’ll keep the ice coming!” he says as he grabs the bottles from the fridge. “No don’t bother, I’ll be outside watching him.” The wrinkles of the forty-something year old become prominent after your remark when his head pops up from behind the bar. “In that heat?! Dear, that’s not healthy!” You shrug your shoulder, “I know it makes him happy seeing me up there in the stands and I like seeing him in his element.”
“He’s is a rocket, that boy,” he says with an exuberant smile while turning around. “Here, at least wear this.” He places the team-cap on your head and hands you the drinks. “Have fun out there and just give me a call if you need more drinks, I’ll bring them up.” “Thanks, Lex!” He waves you off, “anything for our VIP’s.”
The sound of roaring engines in the background, the smell of tarmac and burning rubber in the scorching sun, the instructor shouting over the noise, it feels like home. One way or another. Up until now it is the one thing you and Marcus have truly bonded over. For hours on end you hear his stories, and you’d ask him questions, which would result in more stories. About how he overtook someone, how his instructor thought him a technique to break later than the rest, about how nasty someone was driving but he still had the upper-hand. They could never bore you, and the smile it put on his face was invaluable. A smile you remember you used to have, until life came crashing down.
There he is! All suited up he walks up to his go-kart and follows the lead of his instructor. He hops in, closes his visor, and you know it’s go-time. It’s practice, not even a race; it’s him not even you; yet you feel jitters in your stomach. Every time he goes on track there is pride and fear battling inside you. You know there’s risk involved, and some might call you crazy for supporting a 12 year old in motorsport - your parents at least have - but you vouched for it, standing behind Marcus’ passion. Yet anytime you see him enter the track you’re not so sure if you made the right call. But then he flies off into the distance and you know there’s a reason for everything.
“I don’t understand how those kids survive in that heat! Damn, I know I can’t.” Claudia, the mother of one of Marcus’ teammates, takes a seat next to you and offers you a drink. “No thanks, already got some.” “Smart. They really need it out there though. Poor kids” They’ve been driving around doing practice-starts for the past 15 minutes and in the meantime the wind has settled, leaving behind a humid, thick heat. Now imagine sitting in one of those karts with the fired-up engines. Claudia slaps her thighs with both hands, “this is not good, I’m going to-” “Look they’re being called back,” you interrupt her the moment she wants to stand up.
“EY, goddammit, watch it, you know the rules when entering the pit!” A thick Austrian accent echoes over the roaring engines as he nearly watches a collision before his eyes and your eyes capture the moment at the intesity of his scream. The karts stop and he immediately walks over the driver. “That was unnecessary and fucking dangerous, get up,” he says firmly while slightly grabbing the shoulder of the boy’s racing suit. The boy does as he’s said, he gets up in his sticky race suit and that’s when you notice it was Marcus being scolded. “Adamos, this is the last time it happens, okay? Everyone is slowing down and you’re just ramming through. For what?- Open you visor when I’m speaking to you!” Marcus does as he’s told and apologises politely without any word of resistance. “Good,” he turns to the rest. “Everyone go change, we’ll do some track-walks. And don’t forget your water!”
As the boys waddle off he checks his phone, and looks up at the stand where you were sitting with all the parents. With a bounce in his step he walks over to the stand, his long brown hair sticking to his forehead, and his once light grey shirt now completely soaked in sweat. Clumsy he climbs onto the metal bars and leans over it to be in speaking-range. “Toto, what’s the plan? I’m not spending my entire salary on them just playing around.” A charming smile appears on his face, “no worries mister Müller, I’m simply going to throw some things around, but still make it useful. Going to do some track-walks and explain race-line strategies.” “Okay then-” “So no money lost on me, sir!” “That’s how I like to hear it.”
He jumps off the metal bars to leave but before he does so he turns around, “Oh and Miss Adamos,” he says with a finger pointing at you, capturing your attention. “I’d like to have a word after the session is done, if you don’t mind?” His soft brown eyes were a stark contrast to the sharp features of his face, and the lingering eye contact felt like an eternity, until the moment you realised he asked you a question. “Yes-yes, no worries at all,” you stutter and you feel yourself melt away of embarrassment on the overheating blue seat.
The boys return with screeches of laughter as one of the guys made a stupid remark back in the changing room. “C’mon boys, allons-y!” Toto claps his hands together for them to put a higher pace in their walks, but with the high temperatures he’s not getting much out of them. From afar you see him shake his head and just decide to walk ahead of the pack until they catch up on track. Suddenly Marcus runs towards Toto and yanks at his arm making Toto lean down so he can hear him, and they start talking for a good minute until the rest catches up. He looks up at you from a distance, and simply nods his head ‘yes’ at you.
The parents that surround you have a gift of making every little thing seem so big. Everything they can find, they’ll nag and nitpick about. About the way their kids race, about the way they’re thought, about their jobs, about each others’ jobs. Can’t they just sit here is peace, watch their child, and realise they are providing them the gift of their dreams. They should be grateful, thankful, and proud of being able to put their kid in such a fortunate position. They remind them so much of your own parents, always complaining about everything, about your life decisions, about Marcus’ hobbies. And every time you say ‘but just watch him race, you’ll think totally different about it.’ Yet they never have. They continue to throw money at him though, probably to buy his love, yet they never seem to have even an ounce of care in their bodies.
They walked a full lap around the track, as you see the pack re-appear around the corner. Toto shirtless by now because of the heat, exposing his toned muscles under his glistening skin making him look like a sculpted Greek god. He’s pointing and waving his arms as he’s explaining something which the boys listen to attentively. With his shirt dangling in the back pocket of his shorts he tells the boys training is done, and to get a soda on the house, “you boys really deserve it after today! Now go - Go!”
The kids run inside to their parents, who gave up and went inside minutes after the track-walk started, making you the only one sitting outside without realising it. You were too lost in your thoughts.
“Catch!”
Your eyes jump up as you see a bottle flash before your eyes and hits  your shoulder. “Shit sorry, didn’t mean for that to happen!” A giant of a man walks up to you nonchalantly, blocking the sun with his naked torso. “What did you expect,” you laugh as you grab the bottle of water off the floor. He looks at you with a sarcastic face, “well, that you’d catch.”
Toto took a seat beside you, nearly burning his leg and his back on the hot plastic. “Well, now we know one thing for sure, the racing-gene was not passed on to you,” he jokes, but you just stare at him. “I mean, you have to have good reflexes- as a racing driver- and you didn’t- you know what, never mind.”
“First you throw a bottle at me, and then you call my reflexes insufficient, you must really hit it off good with the ladies.” He cheeks turn slightly red, and shakes his head with a laugh at your remark. “Trust me, I’m A-mazing with the ladies.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but it can be mistaken for cockiness as a smug smile appears on his face and he winks at you.
“Oookay.. What’s up,” you say to quickly change the subject. “Is it about Marcus’ behaviour earlier, I can talk to him about that-” “No, no, it’s not that, actually the opposite.” He looks at you with a grin on his face, his brown eyes glint in the sun and you notice the razor burn on his clenching jaw. “Marcus is a great guy, and an even greater driver; I truly think he’ll make it far. And I want to do anything in my power to help him progress.” The cockiness and smug attitude he carried just moments ago was replaced with sincerity.
“What do you mean?”
He looks at you, with one eye closed squinting in the sun, “you wanna go inside? It’s getting a bit unbearable out here.”
You took his lead and followed him down the stairs. All the while you stare enchanted at the dancing muscles in his back with every movement he makes. His slightly slanted shoulders, wondering what happened to them. An accident? A fight? The droplets forming on his his back, making their way down, shimmering and shining on his tanned body. He looked nothing like the other 22 year olds you were surrounded by in college. There was something so strong and powerful, yet so caring and respectful about him. Maybe this is what your mother meant when she said you needed to find a true gentleman.
After putting his shirt back on Toto sat you down in the canteen and continued his conversation with in the background talking parents and the shouts and laughter from the boys. “Look, what I meant was that I think he has a lot of potential, and that we’re not getting everything out of him with only two trainings a week.” You look at him confused, “so, he needs more training?”
“Well- more training means a team promotion- and before you say anything, what you saw today, with the little incident, that’s all because he needs more of a challenge and he tries to find it in anything. Sometimes he just picks the wrong places. But I know he can-” “Okay, yea, I’m in... if that’s what he wants.” His eyes light up with delight, “amazing! The thing is though, I’ve only ever seen you here, and you know that for any promotions there need to be given consent from a guardian since he’s under-aged. Do you think your parents will give it?”
Of course your parents won’t give it, given how hard it was half a year ago when another instructor offered the same deal. More training, more money, more hours driving him to practice, more expensive gear, more danger and risk. You shake your head ‘no.’ “You have to understand the things he can accomplish-” “No, Toto, you don’t understand, our parents-”
*BOOO*
All the hairs in your neck stand up from the jump-scare and you fling you hand back to slap Marcus, but he’s too quick. “Stan told me to do it!!” he giggles as he runs back to his friends. “Asshole,” you mutter under your breath and you look back at Toto who’s chuckling under his breath. “Ugh guys and their weird sense of humor.” He laughs, “having a brother must be fun.” “Yea, so- much- fun,” you say with a petty smile.
“You were trying to say something about your parents before Marcus came.” He looks at you inquisitively. “Yes, no, no worries, I’ll talk to them, see if we can work something out.” You pushed that sentence out of your system with difficulty because you know how difficult it will be. Communicating this, getting this across to them. And as if Toto can read your mind, “you know, if you need help with anything- the strategy we have for him, school assistance, financial aid- I’m glad to help. I truly mean that.”
“You really care about him, don’t you?” A slight smile forms on his face, “yes, he’s a special one, I just want to see him succeed and not waste his potential.” It’s odd realising how good of a relationship Marcus and Toto have. The countless stories you heard about Toto teaching him this, Toto telling him off about that, Toto jokes this and that, an endless cycle; yet this is the first time you actually had a proper conversation with him. After practice or during the social events he always seems so to himself, with the capability of seeming isolated in a group of twenty people, yet carrying the charisma that people were honoured when he did speak to them.
“It just reminds me of my sister and I,” he says after a long silence which you filled up by drinking the glass of water Lex gave you. “What does?” you ask him. “You and Marcus.” He looks down at his hands on the table, which were fiddling with a sugar-package. “The way you show up for him, how you let him have the experiences in life that you never had. It can be difficult. I know that firsthand, and it feels unfair most times. But then you see the smile on their face when they succeed at what they love, because you were there helping them along the way. That smile makes it all worth it.”
He looks up at you after he finished talking, as if trying to hide the fact that he just opened up to you. But his eye contact felt so personal, as if he could read your mind and you look away time. “I just hope his smile never fades like mine did,” you say softly. “Come on now, I know yours didn’t fade,” he replies with a disagreeing tone. “You just started seeing the world for what it is, but trust me that smile will return.” A cheerful smile paints his face trying to not let the mood down, and somehow it works. “How are you so sure?” you ask him challenging, and he lifts his chin with pride. “My mom told me, smiles always come back.”
“Your mom told you?” you repeat. “Yea, and she Never lies,” he says factually, yet sounding like a 5 year old boy trying to prove a point. “Such a dork,” you laugh. He slaps the table and points his finger at you. “A-HA see there’s a smile! I knew it!”
“Toto likes a gi-irl, Toto likes a gi-irl!” The boys sing in unison interrupting your conversation and you see Lex secretly enjoying the public humiliation they are inflicting on you and Toto. “Okay, okay that’s enough guys, nothing to see here.” Toto stands up from the table and walks over to the guys joking with them that they secretly have a crush on you. “Yikes no! Absolutely not.” The moment Toto then accused them of having a girlfriend brought up a whole other shouting match with their denial. Marcus pulling at Toto’s arm as he was picking at him, saying how he’ll ask you about all Marcus’ secrets.
The way Marcus was laughing with ease made your heart warm, the innocence he carried with him, and the lust for life and curiosity. At some moments it felt like you were living through him.
“Come on, let’s go Marcus,” you say as you walk up to the group minutes later. “Nooo we’re all playing a game, I can’t leave now.” A sigh leaves your mouth, “Marcus c’mon, don’t start now please. I have to go, I also have a life.” “Fine, then go, but don’t ruin mine,” he shouts without a filter. Tears prickle in the back of your eyes out of frustration, because even though he doesn’t know the meaning of his words, and he probably doesn’t mean it, they do hurt. How could you be ruining his life when you gave up half of yours for him.
“Marcus please, just-” “if you want I can also drive him back later today, just tell me where and at what time,” Toto said hesitantly as to not overrule your authority in the situation. Even in the moment he was trying to help he was doing everything in his power to be considerate. “Yess, see Toto will drive me home!” Marcus says joyful. After some arguing back and forth you cave in and exchange numbers with Toto so he can contact you if anything happens.
“Okay, bye Marcus!” you wave him goodbye. “Yea, yea.” He runs off without acknowledging you. Toto looks at you with a soft smile and a tilted head, “bye, see you later.”
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I know it wasn’t filled with a lot of plot, but I’m just setting the scene and dabbling into the whole young Toto vibe. I hope you liked it nonetheless. Let me know if you want more <3 Feedback is always helpful, especially after having been away for such a long time (don’t come for me hahah)
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TagSquad: @ricciardosheart @wetforwolff @panic-on-the-disco @black-repunzel99 @totowlff @f1thirsttraps @totostanxxx @tony-stank3 @fxshernoizu @sunsetwolffs @smoothoperator55 @mysticalnightenthusiast @oliviahoneymoon @purplewis44 @vroom-vroom-bitch @dr3-fangirl @the-lazy-leprechaun @nomnomnibblenibble @laura-naruto-fan1998​ @lilozg-123​ @lewisdidthat​ @thicc-matthews34​ @orchestratedemotion​ @intotowetrust​ @totonator555​ @pandasansoni93​ @totosbitch​ @totoscharm​ @formationlapsz​ @fede18​ @fuckyeahhangman​ @oneafterdark​ @misswolff​ @wetforwolff​ @eclairfromleclerc​  
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voidendron · 6 months
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thanks to a game of CAH with the guild
I can't stop thinking of Synnda and his relationship with the Force - specifically with his dark side corruption brought on by the shielding technique
and since all of my previous ramblings about it are either old, or Tumblr's dumb search issues are burying them so I can't find them again, I'm writing a new one dang it
and like. he hides his emotions well! intentionally or not, people have a hard time reading him!
and yet he was Very Obviously Distressed when he noticed orange creeping into his irises, and the way the skin around his eyes just looked. sickly, almost. more purple-y/gray than it should have been, prominent veins?? he looked Sith!! it was distressing!!
but he swallowed his panic and just. kept protecting the affected Masters. even as it made the corruption look worse. even as it... well. we'll get into it shortly.
he didn't want anyone to worry. he knew Lina, and Nadia, and the rest of his crew were concerned for his health, with the way he was So Obviously Weak and Sick from the shielding
he started wearing masks to soften his face. he noticed that, hey, hiding his "resting bitch face" really helped soften his eyes, people weren't as intimidated when it was Just His Eyes they were seeing, rather than the frown and sharp teeth. even the Council was. unsure, what to think, as his eyes seemed brighter, more predatory; as the veins around them stood out as if the corruption was in his very blood
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Synnda tried, harder than most, to follow the light. because he knew - he knew - that if he was to fall... well. taking that dark side plague into himself to protect so many others really opened him up to the dark side itself.
it whispers where he can just barely hear it over the buzz of conversation
it coaxes, when it thinks he's not paying attention
but he's a stubborn one, he is.
he meditates, visits places pure in the Force, doesn't let his emotions, nor the impulses they may try to cause, get the better of him
Yavin was the first time he really, truly, had to fight against the corruption. it was too dark there. too loud. too manipulative. it was so hard not to reach out to the spirits that wandered that moon, to request their presence, to speak with them. he knew it could only end poorly, but...
the temptation was there. and it was strong. and he had to do everything in his power not to rend Revan limb-from-limb when they finally came face-to-face.
he was still the one to break her nose. to fracture ribs. to throw her against the nearest wall and come within inches of crushing her lungs with the very air within them. as the whispers of the moon grew overwhelming and he needed to leave dammit
no one confronted him for it. thought the injuries Revan sustained before her death were merely...self-defense. right? no one knew of the internal conflict that the Barsen'thor faced, that one of the most softspoken Jedi in the Order, one of the most gentle, was constantly at war with his own virtues
and then came the Alliance. the Star Fortress... "incident," we'll call it.
for the first time in his life, through constantly shoving away the unwanted urge to touch on the dark side,
he finally used it willingly. it wasn't just. a little more violence than he'd normally use like what happened with Revan. it genuinely reached into the darkest depths of the Force that he could grab in an unsteady chokehold
he would feel guilt for it the rest of his life, even as he reasoned that it was a necessary evil to end Zar Draya then and there before she could cause any more suffering to Alderaan.
the only witness: his own conscious, the soon-to-be-destroyed cameras of the Fortress, Exarch Draya... and Darth Nox. his partner in the mission. a rival for so long, but now an ally
and Nox won't talk about what happened that day. not to anyone. not Synnda, who couldn't even look him in the eyes as they fled the Fortress that tore itself apart
Synnda gave in to the urge to touch on the dark side that day. he crushed Draya with her own armor, crumpled the very platform she stood on around her even as she choked on her own blood, before dropping her into the unstable sun reactor as her heart still beat in her chest. Nox felt as though he were suffocating, the air around the pair thick with... well. he was used to the dark side. so why did it feel so frightening when this Jedi used it? why did it feel as though, had he followed a different path, had he chosen to willingly use the dark side of the Force... why did it feel that it would have been a terrible thing for the galaxy?
because, well. let's keep in mind that he's Still Holding Onto The Plague. it's still very much there! he's just keeping a Really Stubborn Hold On It! and it's why he needed to teach his students the shielding technique! because he has No Idea if it'll just be re-released when he dies, so someone needs to be ready to hold onto it again when he's gone! but he's Not gonna make a single person Ever go through what he's living most of his life holding onto. it's terrible! it's stressful! it's probably why his hearts fail to kill him eventually! so five holding onto it is far better than one!
and maybe, he hopes, they won't have to deal with the dark side whispering to them all their lives if they can share the burden
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chaoslulled · 3 months
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❝ is there something you’re not telling me? come on, talk to me. ❞  ( from sugu to gojo, highschool era :c ? )
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he is manufactured arrogance, because that is the master that he has been forced to serve since he was young.  they have never looked at him like he was a child, but something to be bowed to.  something so powerful  &  destructive that that is all there is to it.  he is the one that holds the six eyes  &  infinity  ––  something so rare it is meant to be treasured.  they dress him in robes  &  give him the air of superiority because as a clan, he is their savior.  he is young but he is meant to be the head figure.  he is young but he is nothing without the clan's permission to so much as breathe.
everything has been a reminder of that since his ascension, since everything with riko a couple of months ago.  ever since he's come into his power it's been non-stop trips to his childhood home, extensive tests of his powers, hushed conversations about demanding his pay be increased  &  a promotion given.  they want him on bigger missions.  they want him to run more.  they have the money, they can pay his way in if that is the way that the school wants to go.
no one once stops to ask him what he wants.  what he wants is to stay with suguru  &  shoko, wants to have some sort of normalcy.  ever since he had come into his reversed curse technique  &   learned to heal, there's a part of him that feels like it didn't come back right.  like sometimes his screws are still too loose, that he can't completely put his head back on without shoving it as hard as he can so that it sticks.  he can't voice any of it; he has to sit in on meeting after meeting  &  be grateful that he's been given this chance, that he's the chosen one.
he's the strongest because he has to be, not because he's chosen it.  he breathes the arrogance out at every single corner because it's a good mask to hide behind.  it unnerves people  &  makes them hate him  ––  it's fitting for what he can do with his own technique.  maybe he's just been preparing himself for how lonely it's all meant to be all this time.
cerulean eyes flutter open  ––  he's been in the gardens for too long; the sun is sinking below the horizon  &  cherry blossoms have decorated his hair, but he makes no move to dislodge them.  instead, he turns his head slightly before craning his neck, looking up at suguru has he blots out the sun slowly sinking.  the faintest smile slips onto his lips  ––  yes, this is what he wants to keep.  one of the only ones who has ever called him out on his shit  ––  the only one that ever seems to matter, no matter how many times he sits in those meetings.  the one that makes him want to stay.
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he's missed dinner  ––  that should probably concern him more than he does, but he pushes it aside  &  stretches long limbs, feels the creak in every inch of his bones from staying in one position too long.
" it's clan stuff. "  he can't tell them all to go fuck themselves because that's unseemly  &  it doesn't matter if he's the chosen one, he will get his ass kicked for something like that.  but his teeth worry at his bottom lip for a moment;  maybe he doesn't have to bear it alone.  maybe he can have the best of both worlds  ––  because he's pretty sure suguru's not going to run back to his childhood home  &  tattle.
he sits up now, letting the cherry blossoms fall down his shoulders  &  roll off his back.  " you ever just...realize that people look at you  &  they don't see you?  all they see is the perfectly manicured version of you that they've prepped since you were a baby? "
fingers are careful as they flip his sun glasses up onto his head  ––  it's only him  &  suguru here, his cursed energy doesn't offend him.  it doesn't add to the throbbing in his temple like cursed energy normally does.  " for once i'm getting tired of people acting like i'm some sort of god. "
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iincantatorum · 2 years
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 Nature Lovers [Maverick/Astra] | continued from (x)
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Astra glanced at him, a smile playing on her rouge lips. Now that she was out of the wilderness and they had struck a deal on this ‘fake dating’, she was much more in her element. Her business, which focused on conservation of ancient protected lands, was working to rid the rumours surrounding land and wilderness exploitation. As a result, the marring of her business would be reversed.  
Maverick was set to obtain a very good chunk of money for this facade as he had a growing fanbase and extreme dedication to the wildlife that happened to be near the very lands Astra’s business worked to conserve. The deal was set to last for six months before they could part ways and all they had to do was be seen in public.
Meanwhile, Astra was working behind the scenes to uncover the source of these false rumours so she could hit them with a defamation claim. She was, quite frankly, not in the mood to play around. She certainly did not work hard to build her business from the ground up only to have it marred by a single false rumour.
“You clean up quite nicely yourself,” Astra responded, deep brown eyes lowering down his frame before meeting his gaze again, quite satisfied with how this evening was unfolding. “Ready? This is our first public appearance, how do you feel?”
@apsychometry​
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Maverick could still remember when he came across this woman when she came upon his makeshift hut. Back in the wilderness, he decided he would stay to get away from his newfound fame. For someone who lived all their life under the radar, the publicity and microphones and cameras coming to his face was in a word- overwhelming. But one conversation with her and he decided that all of it was going to be worth it. Even though his intention was to protect the nature and preserve the sanctity of the lands, he knew he was just one person. The giant bulldozer that he faced attested that. That day, he felt like his heart would explode in his chest, as he faced many dangerous situation before but this was new. Only a few inches and he would have been the Late Maverick. That day, he felt something inside him shift as he put into perspective how small he was. No matter what, he was going to need support to win over his cause, and she was it. Astra was a powerful entity and he managed to strike a deal with her, and he only cared about the money because he could donate it. 
Now he was willingly going to have cameras shoved to his face, as he was sure this thing called ‘social media’ would be buzzing about him and promoting his ideologies. But they were now invested in this relationship he had with Astra, something they had to sell. Moments like these, when he was looking her up and down to admire her beauty, made it feel like it wasn’t an act after all. 
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“There is no denying it, you’re quite the ravishing sight, Miss Astra,” he complimented further, opening the door of their shared room and offering an arm. Maverick learned these etiquette techniques recently, so he liked putting them to practice whenever he can. “Makes the whole ordeal feel like a breeze. I feel ready. So- we have to tell them the story of how we met? What story do you think we should go with, so we can be on the same page in the public appearance? Also who are your rival companies again? The ones that actually want to take over the sacred lands?”
Surely enough, once reaching the venue, there were a group of fangirls who cheered at the sight of Maverick. He smiled and waved at them and it made them let out a high pitched scream, and that had him grinning. For someone who has been around no one but animals most of their life, the attention had him reeling. 
“They really love me!”
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bitsandbobsandstuff · 3 years
Text
The Midnight Coconuts
Summary: Bucky and his girl take a trip to the grocery store. Several things are involved, including coconuts, a 25cent gum-ball machine, Avengers branded Jell-O, chocolate milk straight from the jug, and tampons.  Characters: Bucky x Reader Words: 3k Warnings: Some swearing. Insane levels of fluff. Dangerously adorable Bucky. One (1) random reference to Not Another Teen Movie. 
A/N: Listen, I will never be over silly domestic Bucky! I originally started this story before TFATWS came out and when I imagined Sam had a niece, so just go with it. Part of me wrote this, because I needed to convince myself that I love grocery shopping (one can only eat takeaway and Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken for so long) and the other part wrote this because I firmly believe domestic routines can be the most romantic adventures out there.
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When the doors to the grocery store whoosh open with a gust of stale manufactured air, Bucky skids to an abrupt and dramatic stop.  
“WAIT!”
Behind him, you stumble in panic, fumbling with an armful of reusable grocery bags. Instantly you’re imagining spilled blood and stab wounds and clean ups on aisle three and god dammit, how can there be a problem? This is a grocery store at midnight on a Wednesday. Shouldn’t the forces of evil be sleeping? Why is it so impossible to get a day off work? Don’t they know you need rest? And peanut butter? And that you’re dangerously low on toilet paper?
The forces of evil are the worst.
Raising weary fists, you huff.
“What? Where is it?”
Bucky sidesteps toward a row of small red and green machines beside the entrance, falling to his knees and smushing his nose eagerly against the glass. Reaching a hand behind him, there are several impatient grabby motions, before he glances back.
“Babe, can you give me a quarter? I need a gum-ball.”
Planting a sneaker clad foot on his ass, you shove. Hard.  
“Bucky, we talked about this. Remember how you agreed to lower the drama and keep things in perspective? I thought we were under attack.”
“If I don’t get a green gum-ball,” he declares dramatically, “there will be an attack.”
Throwing the cloth bags at his face, you stomp off to retrieve a shopping cart, plunking your purse in the front and hunching over the handlebars.  
“I thought you said you were a millionaire now. Buy your own gum-ball.”
Bucky rolls his eyes.
“Like I carry loose change,” he scoffs. “C’mon, just one quarter. Please?”
This time, he gives you the Look. That patented Bucky Barnes stare, with the wide eyes and full pouty lips and faux innocent expression, and if this man wasn’t the love of your life you’d quite happily stab him in the heart.
Instead, you open your purse and fish out a quarter, flinging it at his frustratingly pretty face. It bounces off his forehead and he scoops it up with a grin.
“So just to clarify. You came to the grocery store covered in knives, but you forgot to bring money?”
Giving you an indulgent smile, he jams the quarter into the slot. With a twist and shake, a gum-ball rattles free, and Bucky crows with delight when he sees the green candy. He pops it in his mouth. 
“I didn’t forget. I made a conscious decision to remove the temptation. If I bring cash, I’ll spend it. You know I ain’t great with that whole self control thing.”
“How encouraging to hear, from the man with knives pouring out his ass.”  
Jumping to his feet, he throws an arm around your shoulders. 
“Ass knives sound painful.”
“Depends on how sharp they are,” you mumble, pulling a carefully folded sheet of paper from your jacket.
“Excuse you? My knives are always perfectly sharpened, thank you very much. What kind of expert assassin runs around with dull knives? Damn baby, it’s like you don’t even know me.”
Ignoring him, you flatten out the paper and smooth the edges, sighing happily at the block letters and structured diagrams drawn in deep blue ink. 
Here it is, your masterpiece. A monument to productivity. The gold standard by which all optimization models should be benchmarked. This isn’t just any list, this is The List.
Everything is grouped, first by aisle, then by product location within the aisle, and then from top to bottom shelf order, to maximize efficiency. This is the dream list. The kind that inspires jealousy. The kind people hold up at TED talks when they talk about time management techniques. Marie Kondo wishes she had this list. 
Bucky snorts when he sees the carefully printed boxes.  
“God, you’re such a square,” he says adoringly. He plants a sugary wet kiss on your temple and you grind an elbow into his ribs.
“We discussed this, Bucky. Don’t mock my lists.” 
“Sorry babe, I ain’t mocking. Your lists are beautiful, they always get me all hot and bothered,” he agrees, dipping lower to lick behind your ear. “And I really love that list you keep with all those dirty, filthy, sex things you wanna do to me.”
“I don’t have a list like that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighs, “and I don’t know how many more hints I can drop here.”
Reaching under his shirt, you rub his belly consolingly. “Okay then. This weekend I’ll sit down and make you a special list. One so disgusting and dirty and depraved, it would make Wade Wilson cry.”
Bucky laughs and squeezes you tighter. 
“About damn time honey. I’m equally parts terrified and horny. So where’re we headed first?”
“Produce,” you answer promptly, plowing forward, Bucky still chuckling beside you.
The whole scenario was ironic, actually. There was no need to grocery shop - automatic ordering mechanisms  across the Avengers tower rendered the task meaningless - but sometimes it was a welcome relief to partake in such an ordinary thing. Unable to sleep after one particularly terrible mission, you found yourself wandering the aisles of your 24-hour supermarket, dressed in pineapple adorned pajama pants and one of Bucky’s rattier sweatshirts, searching for ice cream. The unexpected symmetry of products arranged along the shelves, the rainbow hued produce, the hint of baking bread wafting from the ovens, all those everyday trappings of normality, they washed over like a soothing balm. Soon enough, the boiling bad thoughts simmered to nothing more than a cache of blurry memories.
When you got home, sleep came fast, deep and dreamless.
One month later, the idea struck again.
After 36 hours of Bucky tossing and turning, dark shadows bruising beneath weary blue eyes, you took his hand and led him down the dark street for a midnight adventure. He was skeptical, disbelieving that something so simple could chase away the insomnia. But he dutifully followed you, strolling aimlessly through the aisles, throwing odds and ends into the cart. 
The tension gradually eased, he began to relax, and suddenly? 
He was hooked.
An hour later, after arguing the health benefits of frosted Cheerios over oatmeal, poking each hunk of cheese in the display, and loading the cart with every single flavor of spaghetti sauce on the shelf, the heavy weight of remembering began to ease. When he collapsed into bed, he slept for eight hours straight.
I don’t know what that was, he swore the next morning, munching through his third bowl of frosted Cheerios, but it was magic.
And with that, a midnight ritual was born. Sometimes you make the trek alone, sometimes Bucky does the same, but whenever life permits you go together. This small slice of domesticity brings a warm comfort to this strange life.   
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There is no doubt, this is your favorite area of the entire store.
Barrels filled with tart oranges and smooth red apples. Tables piled high with bananas, some just shy of yellow, others sunshine perfect, and a few with speckles of black (which are the best). Shelves lining the walls, overflowing with bundles of herbs and lettuce, all coated in a fine layer of mist. 
Bliss. 
Heading straight for the apples, you plunge into the Gala pile, rummaging until you come up with ten perfect ones. Peaches follow, fingers rubbing along the delicate pinky-orange fuzz. Squeeze, smell, squeeze, smell. Five are chosen for a pie (Sam pleaded shamelessly until you agreed to make him one), and in the cart they go. Heading toward the wall of herbs, you’re reaching for the basil when a metallic bang makes you jump. Spinning around, you find Bucky lobbing coconuts into the cart.
“We need these.”
“We really don’t, Buck. I hate coconut, it tastes like suntan lotion.”
“They’re not for eating,” he grabs an apple, wipes it on his shirt, and takes a juicy bite. “They’re for security.”
Sticky juice drips from his lip, catching in his beard. When you reach over to swipe it away, he nips your finger with a grin.
“Explain please.”
“See it’s like this. We’re just here shopping, doin’ our thang -”
“Don’t say thang.”
“- when someone attacks. What happens? BAM. One of these furry beauties breaks their face. Problem solved.”
Giving him a slow perusal, you raise an eyebrow.
“Were the 47 knives you’re carrying not enough to deflect this attack?”
Finishing off the apple in three sloppy bites, he carefully tucks the price sticker in his pocket so he can scan it before leaving and sets the mangled core beside your purse.
“Babe, these are my back-up plan. A good soldier always has a back-up plan.”
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While you grab a bottle of extra-pulpy orange juice, Bucky picks two jugs of chocolate milk, snaps one open and takes a swing. Ever the thrifty shopper, he pulls a familiar bag from his back pocket, fishes out a crumpled piece of newspaper, and dangles it before you.
“Found a coupon for this,” he says gleefully. “Buy one, get one free. It’s called a BOGO. A BOGO. Hilarious, right? Fuck me, I love the future.”
Still laughing, he takes another long drink of chocolate milk and smacks his lips.
It was a lazy Sunday morning when you discovered this particular habit. Walking into the living room, you found Bucky buried in a sea of Sunday newspaper, tongue between his teeth and scissors in hand while he clipped coupons. He wasn’t picky, if it was remotely interesting, it went into the YES pile. It was one of those random things that brought him inordinate levels of joy, so of course you encouraged it. On his last birthday, you gifted him with a green zippered bag decorated with angry looking owls and official looking letters stitched across the front:
Bucky’s Coupon Bag  Thriftn’ Machine Since 1917
He laughed for five straight minutes and then stuffed it full. The bag accompanies you on every trip and the sight of Bucky excitedly rifling through his wad of coupons still makes your heart swell.  
Setting aside his BOGO, Bucky continues down the aisle, leaving you to pause in front of the yogurt. While you contemplate the merits of blackberry vs strawberry, Bucky slides over holding three cans of Reddi-Whip. 
“Are you actually planning to eat that? I thought you said whipped air is for, and I quote, ‘spineless, tasteless trash heathens’?”
Bucky shakes the can of spray whipped cream and wiggles his eyebrows, leveling you with a sultry stare. 
“Hell no I’m not eating it. This is for the bedroom. Last week I watched this god-awful movie where some blond guy - who looked exactly like Steve, by the way - made himself a whipped cream bikini for his girl. Decided I’m gonna do that for you. You’re welcome.”
“That sounds gross and unsanitary.” 
“If by gross and unsanitary you mean spicy and sexy, then yes. Yes it does.”
Whistling what sounds like the theme music from a bad porn, he adds two tubs of honey swirled Greek yogurt, pats your butt, and strolls ahead, throwing a roughish wink over his shoulder. Imagining the melted whipped cream soaking into your bedsheets, you mentally add more laundry detergent to the list.
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“Hang on, turn here.”
Tugging the cart behind him, Bucky stalks toward the feminine hygiene display. It takes him a minute to scan the products before squatting down to the bottom shelf. Grabbing two jumbo boxes of tampons, oddly enough the brand you prefer, he pops back to his feet.  
“Dare I ask why you need these?”
A faint pink flush crawls up his neck.  
“Well, you know, two reasons. They’re really great for stopping bloody noses, you know? Just poke ‘em up there and they soak it all up.”
 He mimes the execution and adds a thumbs up.
“And the second reason?”
Squinting at his boots, he shuffles his feet a bit. The pink flush deepens. 
“Um, you know - I know you’re out, since I stuck the last one up Steve’s nose last week, and yeah. Anyway. It’s about that time. Of the month. For you.”
Clearing his throat, he reaches for his chocolate milk, but you grab his wrist.  
“You know when my period’s going to start?”
He shrugs self-consciously and fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.  
“Well yeah. You think it’s just a coincidence when all your favorite candy shows up every month?” Looking up, he shoots you a crooked smile and leans over the cart to kiss your forehead. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you haul him in for a real kiss instead and his startled laughter tickles your lips. When you break away, those bright blue eyes are shining. 
“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers. 
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This is the aisle where the cart officially explodes.
Lasagna noodles.
Egg noodles.
Spaghetti noodles.
Penne.
Linguine. 
Fettuccine.
Literally one of every noodle is selected, because Bucky Barnes is a self-proclaimed noodle slut. 
As you organize the boxes and search for orzo, you see him furtively add an extra bag of elbow macaroni. A quiet cough hides your laughter.
The last time Sam’s four-year-old niece came to the tower, she and Bucky spent hours making glittery elbow macaroni necklaces, which they ceremoniously gifted to everyone. When Sam casually mentioned her enthusiastically telling everyone at pre-school about her friend Bucky and how much fun she had visiting him, Bucky ran to a craft store and bulk bought supplies of glue, string, paint, and glitter, just in case she comes over again.
Months later and the entire team are still finding puddles of glitter all over the tower, but the delight on Bucky’s face anytime someone mentions that arts and crafts afternoon? 
It’s worth the mess.     
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Gathering up brown sugar, instant oats, and chocolate chips, you turn to drop them in the cart when Bucky makes a strangled noise. Glancing over, you find him bouncing on his toes, vibrating with excitement.
“Babe. Babe. Are you making monster cookies?”
Adding a can of raisins, you search for the good vanilla. The kind that actually tastes like vanilla, not a cheap car wash air freshener. 
“I promised I would,” you remind him. Bucky plasters himself against your back, wrapping you in an enthusiastic hug and nuzzling his face against your neck.
“I love those fucking cookies,” he declares. “They’re my favorite thing ever. Next to you I mean.”
Finding the vanilla, you spin in his arms and return the squeeze.  
“I know you do. But you have to share them this time, okay? You can’t just eat them all yourself like the last two times. Agree?”
“Agree…to disagree. They’re wasted on other people, no one else loves as much. It’s for the best when I eat them all, it’s proof how much I love you. I’m doing it for you. I’m supporting you. Because I love you.”
“You’re completely full of shit,” you reply.
“I swear I’m not! Just listen!”
The excuses grow longer and wilder as Bucky outlines his rationale against sharing, walking backward and dragging the cart with him as he pleads his case. He’s diving into the science of super soldier metabolism levels and caloric requirements and the fact that his sister never shared anything with him, when he bumps into a tall display. 
He pulls up short, eyes narrowing. Plunking his fists on his hips, he growls a disgruntled sigh and glares at the rows of packaging. 
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
Lined up in neat rows, you see boxes of Jell-O organized by color and flavor. On the cover of each are an assortment of familiar images.  
“Are these Avengers themed Jell-O?” you ask, picking up a box with Sam’s image and the words Wild Berry Wilson. The rows extend further, filled with Lime Green Hulk and Blue Raspberry Rogers and Black Cherry Widow and Strawberry Lemon Stark. Exasperated, Bucky grabs the Sparkling Orange Spider flavor. 
“Is this for real? The kid gets one and I didn’t? Someone in PR is getting fired.”
“Well there’re only so many flavors, Buck,” you point out practically, but Bucky’s not in the mood for logic. Instead, he swipes an entire shelf of Jell-O flavors into the cart.  
“I swear to god, I have to do everything around here. Fine then. I’ll make my own flavor, Blackberry Kiwi Soldier or Winter Watermelon Rainbow, or something.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Anyway, I’ll work on the name. But I’m bringing it to dinner tomorrow night and everyone is gonna eat it.”
He dumps in a bag of mini-marshmallows and grabs sprinkles for topping, before marching down the aisle. Cringing at the volume of sugar in the cart, you make another mental note to schedule a dentist appointment.
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“Go do your manly duty and find the meat. We need two 5lb rump roasts.”
“I like your rump roast,” he instantly responds and reaches over to smack your butt again. Anticipating the move, you catch his arm and twist it behind his back. He barks out a breathless laugh and you slap his ass in return.
“Your innuendos are tragic.”
Releasing him with a gentle shove, Bucky snatches up his three coconuts and ambles away, laughing while he juggles them. When he returns, he has the requested rump roasts, several packages of bacon, and a bundle of cocktail shrimp.
“If my innuendos get better, then can I touch your butt?”
“Maybe. But they better be real good.”
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An added benefit to shopping at midnight? Not a soul in line.
Loading everything onto the conveyer belt, you automatically organize for bagging. Boxes together, produce together, meat together. Bucky adds a pack of batteries, a tin of mints, and some trashy magazines.
The last three items in the cart are his coconuts. They rattle around until you toss them at him, motioning back to the produce department. 
“We made it out alive. Go put them back.”
Still chomping his tasteless green gum-ball, he shakes his head and plops them down. 
“Nah, I have another idea for them. Got all those craft supplies at home, I’m gonna make you something.”
“Should I even ask?”
Bucky blows a huge, wet bubble and looks you up and down.
“Have you every worn one of those coconut bras? Like on TV, with the ladies in grass skirts? I’m gonna make you one. I already have string and glue. And glitter.”
“I think you may be overestimating your crafting abilities.” Digging out your credit card, you wait for the final tally. 
“Well, if it’s terrible then you’ll just be naked. Either way, I win.”
Shaking out your grocery sacks, he packs everything with Tetris-like efficiency and slides all of them up the vibranium arm.   
“How about I make you a deal. I’ll wear a coconut bra, if you’ll make yourself something to wear as well.”
Bucky blows another sugary bubble, pondering the idea.
“Like a coconut man thong?”
“Exactly like a coconut man thong.”
“Deal. Add it to that special dirty list you’re making me honey. We got loads to do.” 
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Outside, the night air smells sweet and cool, the barest hint of a spring rain and fresh grass lingering on the breeze. Already, your eyes are feeling heavy, tonight’s quiet adventure ushering in that sought after peace. 
In your right hand, the three coconuts swing gently in their plastic sack. Humming under his breath, Bucky yawns, reaching for your other hand. His warm, calloused palm squeezes tight, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin.
He turns to you with a sleepy, lopsided smile.
Midnight and coconuts.  
It always does the trick.
***
2K notes · View notes
xiaosmoon · 3 years
Note
hi!! I'm OBSESSED with the way you write, so if you could indulge me a little? :D diluc + kaeya + zhongli with an s/o who has to seduce an enemy to get important info—though they try their best to stay put, worry/jealousy gets the best of them, and they arrive at the scene just in the nick of time...
hopefully this doesn't overstep any of your blog rules :< tysm!!
seducing an enemy
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parings: diluc, kaeya, & zhongli x gn!reader (afab for zhongli)
summary: you get sent on an important mission to try to get information out of an enemy by seducing them, but worry/jealousy gets the best of them and they arrive just in time
warnings/content: seduction, angsty but with comfort, suggestive if you squint
a/n: ahhh thank you so much!!! i hope this did your request justice :)
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-> diluc
you really shouldn't be running this late. diluc was pacing back and fourth in main room of the winery. the maids tried to get him to calm down, but he just couldn't sit still. not when you were out on a mission at the risk of being hurt.
and on top of that, seducing someone. just the mere thought of it was enough to send diluc into a frenzy. of course he trusts you. he really does, but you were doing this to a dangerous enemy. the risk of it all was just too much not to stress over.
"i'm going out for a walk. please, do not wait up for me." was all diluc announced to his maids before grabbing his coat and running off.
it was a very cold night, and diluc suddenly remembers that pretty little lace you were wearing.
"it's all apart of the technique, diluc. i can't seduce a person if i'm covering every inch of my body."
obviously you were right, but diluc still wishes you weren't cozying up to a scumbag wearing little to nothing.
diluc hadn't realized how fast he had been walking because he was already at the destination. with claymore in hand, he wasted no time busting open the door. he found you with a knife to your neck, trying to pry the man off of you. your vision was tossed to the side, so you were utterly helpless.
all diluc could see was burning red. he didn't even get a good look at the guy holding you; he let his body do the talking and swung his claymore, not actually hitting the guy but causing him to lose balance and drop the knife.
while diluc was keeping him away, you drop down grabbing the fallen knife and stab the enemy's leg. before diluc could chop the guy in half with his fired up claymore, you quickly push him back with the rest of the strength you could muster.
"diluc, he's down! it's alright now!" diluc was breathing heavily, his eyes fixated on the person screaming in pain. once he feels your body hugging his, his demeanor quickly changes.
diluc drops his claymore and returns your embrace back, kissing the top of your head. "are you alright? are you hurt?" he pulls you off of him, holding your shoulders to examine your body for any injuries.
you put your hand on top of one of his and give him a soft smile. "i'm okay, i promise." you turn around to look at the man behind you on the floor. "he, however, isn't. i'll have to bring him to the knights for further interrogation."
you go and grab your vision before cuffing the man's hands. "y-you're crazy! i'm going to die because of you!" he nearly spat in your face.
diluc was quick to act, grabbing him by the collar and yanking the guy dangerously close to him. "call them crazy again and that claymore you saw earlier will  definitely kill you." if diluc's claymore won't kill him, the fight he felt definitely would.
after diluc accompanied you to take him to the knights, (he wouldn't stop talking about how incapable they were on the walk there. "this never would've happened to you if they knew how to do their job." some things will never change.) he sat you down on a nearby bench and once again examined you thoroughly, even though you told him you were fine for the nth time.
he carefully draped his coat over your shoulders. "i'm just so glad you're alright. good thing i came when i did." he would say. for the rest of the night, he held you tight and gave you many, many kisses while telling you that you're never doing something like that again. not because he was jealous or anything, of course not
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-> kaeya
kaeya knows you're an amazing and capable knight. you have amazing combat skills and are perfect at undercover missions. perfect person for the job.
so why was he so stressed?
imagining you throwing yourself all over that enemy in the short and tight dress you were wearing was eating at his mind. you had looked absolutely tempting in that getup that kaeya couldn't keep his hands to himself.
"oh? all this for me darling?" kaeya had walked up behind you and allowed his hands to run down your sides as you added earrings to your final look.
he kissed your neck, and before he could continue, you turned around placing a kiss on his lips. "this isn't for you, love. i have a mission..."
the wine glass that was resting in kaeya's hand had now been shattered to little pieces, littered all over the floor of angels share. he had came here to help keep his mind off of you, but it wasn't helping. at all.
kaeya quickly slammed mora down at the bar, scaring charles before heading off to you. he knew he could be potentially ruining your mission, and jean would have his head for it, but at this point in time he really could care less. you were more important to him than his job.
if only the grand master hadn't taken all of the horses with him, maybe kaeya would've gotten there faster. damn him.
as fast as his feet could carry him, he arrived at the goth grand hotel (did you really need a horse kaeya?) he pushed the fatui agent at the doorway trying to stop him and barged straight to the front desk.
"if you don't tell me what room y/n is staying in right now, i swear i will freeze hell over this place." the poor frightened desk lady handed kaeya the hotel key without protest. he swiped it from her and marched off.
"a42... a42... come on where are you?" kaeya walked down 2 hallways until he finally found it.
not even bothering to use the key, kaeya froze the knob before kicking the door open. much to his dismay, you were pinned down to the bed with the enemy right on top, ready to weald his weapon.
kaeya wasted no time to act. he shoved the guy off of you and drew his sword, keeping it pointed nicely at his neck so he couldn't move.
you jumped off the bed to retrieve your own. "i was handling it you know."
"if by handling you mean almost getting yourself killed, i would say you did a fine job." kaeya's voice was still seductive even when he was mad. maybe he should've gone on this mission instead.
you quickly cuff the fatui agent before kicking him out of the room, leaving him for the knights to deal with. "i'll get revenge for this! my superior, he won't like this. he'll deal with you!"
you sigh as the two knights grab him. "yeah, yeah, i've heard it all before. the day your superior comes for me is the day you'll see hellfire." was the last snarky comment you made before closing the door behind you, leaving only you and kaeya in the room.
"there were other knights here?" kaeya asked, approaching you. "only two. master jean planted them just in case."
kaeya pulled you to him for a very tight hug without warning. he buried his face into your neck and wrapped one arm around your shoulders while the other holding your waist. he kissed your neck, and then your jaw, cheek, forehead, your lips, ear, and finally whispered, "you're never doing this again."
you pull his face back so his eyes can meet yours and you cup your palm around his jaw. you tilt your head to the side and raise a brow. "why? because you were scared for me or because you were jealous?"
there are very few things that make kaeya aleberich blush. but him being called out by you is definitely one of them. "jealous? no, of course not. i was worried for you, love." he pulled back from you a bit and you became a laughing fit.
"hey, i was! you cant prove otherwise." he mumbled the last part and crossed his arms like an angry toddler.
you wiped a fake tear from your eyes and composed yourself. how cute, you thought to yourself. "but you did know i had it, right?" you asked.
kaeya looked back over to you, arms still crossed. "yes, i did dear. you're more than capable of holding your own. but what kind of boyfriend would i be if i wasn't to worry, hmm?" he walked back to you and brushed away any hair that was out of place.
"but," his teasing voice was back. "we do have this very nice hotel room to ourselves now. how about we make the most of it and-"
cue you throwing a pillow at him
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-> zhongli
he understood your line of work. he understood how dangerous it could be. but what you had told zhongli earlier that night still wandered at the back of his mind.
you were dressed beautifully in black. the outfit hugged your body in just the right places and zhongli thought you looked absolutely ravishing.
"going somewhere dear?" his eyes were drinking you up. you smile and plant a kiss on his cheek. "it's for the mission i told you about."
the mission sounded dangerous indeed. he had no doubt in your strength but this, this just seemed too much, even for you.
the man you were seducing is known to be very dangerous and zhongli's subconscious couldn't rest at that. mortals were quite fragile after all.
"mr.zhongli? did you hear me?" hu tao waved her hand in front of his face. he snapped out of his daydreams about you and redirected his attention to the young funeral director.
"apologizes miss hu tao, could i possibly take the rest of the night off?" zhongli felt terrible for asking this of her but he just had to go to you.
hu tao granted him his wish, believing that he was feeling ill. at first, zhongli was debating if he really should come to you. it really is their mission, i'm sure they can handle themself.
he was afraid his interference would mess with your mission, but ultimately his concern for you overpowered that thought.
he reached the location in no time. it was a small beach house right on yaoguang shoal. and right outside, 2 guards were posted.
such an important and powerful man obviously has security, zhongli thought to himself. zhongli closed his eyes. he tried to listen for the sound your voice; a sound he had learned to memorize. and he found it. your voice was muffled was full of distress. that was enough for zhongli to approach the guards, ready to break open the door.
"hey," one of the guards stuck his arm out blocking the door. "you can't be here. so lea-" before the guard could get out another word, zhongli send geo shards flying towards both of them, knocking them to the ground unconscious.
he sent a geo spear straight through the door, stabbing the enemy's arm on the other side and pinning him to the wall. you were limp on the floor, but the sight of the geo spear put you to ease. your dress was torn leaving you a bit exposed and you had broken your ankle while fighting the man, but the pain seemed to go away as soon as you saw zhongli walk in.
zhongli sent a few more geo shards to secure the guy on the wall before rushing over to you. "dear, are you alright?" he said squatting down beside you. zhongli took of his coat and draped it over your exposed body. he placed his hand gently on your shoulder, afraid to hurt you.
you smile in relief, raising a hand his arm. "i'm alright, just a broken ankle. could you help me get him to the milieth? they should be here in 10 minutes. i've gotten all the information i need."
"you, this- this isn't over! i'll come back for you. i swear it." the man slurred. your eyes widened at his arm. there was a lot blood was oozing from his wound.
"zhongli, he can't die." zhongli looked at you in confusion. "but he broke your ankle. he can perish."
laughing right now would be very inappropriate, so you had to retain yourself. "i know but the milieth still need him. very alive."
zhongli obeyed your wish and yanked the man off of the wall harshly. "i won't heal him, but he can be taken to bubu pharmacy." zhongli took the spear out and tied his arm tightly with a random cloth he found on the floor. he tossed the man outside for the milieth and rushed back to you. he helped you sit up and you rested your body against his chest.
"thank you, for coming. although i could've handled it myself you know." you look up at him and smile. he lets out a sigh and kissed your lips. "i know dear. but um-" his coat was slipping down your body, revealing a good amount of your cleavage. he turned his head away, blushing a bit. "you should wear my coat." you giggle at his words but put on his coat properly.
zhongli rests you against the wall and scoots to where your feet. he tears some of his shirt to wrap your ankle in. "this will hold it until we get you medical attention." without warning, he picks you up in bridal style. you quickly wrap your arms around his neck so you don't fall.
"w-what are you doing?" you ask, it came out more as a squeak. "the milieth are here," zhongli responds walking outside. "they can take care of that man. we need to get you back to liyue."
yes, he really did carry you all the way to liyue.
897 notes · View notes
thesevro · 3 years
Note
So I read desert rose and loved it. It gave me an idea for an imagine where Sukuna and the reader kinda have a relationship like Hades and Persephone. They meet at first, not fond of each other, but they start to understand each other and slowly they fall in love. Not just any love but one that's so deep that it envelops them, a love so deep its embedded into their soul. You can add smut if you want, I don't mind. I just thought that this would be amazing!
thank you for the first request i’ve received here on tumblr!! 
this shit actually turned out longer than i thought it would. i got a little carried away. ahuhuhu~~ hope you enjoy this anon bby!! 
WARNINGS: mentions of rape, sukuna calls you a whore and a slut AWOOGA, explicit smut
---
“No man has ever survived that curse.”
Her laugh cuts the air. It is dangerous. Snorting and derisive. The absolute opposite of the slack-jawed shock on his tattooed countenance.
“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not a man.”
Her hands spin in a small, tight circle, focusing the cursed energy in the tiny space of power she traces with her hands. She stares at the man with unblinking eyes. Bears insults down on him with the laughter in her eyes.
“You fucking bitch,” he seethes, hissing at the scorn curling her mouth. He does not need his hands to form his own curse. It only takes another vilifying look at her for one more curse to fly in her direction. He breathes an aggravated breath through his nose as one of her servants takes the shot instead, performing the same technique with their own hands.
“Ooh, that one was a little weaker, don’t you think?” she mocks, then turns to her servant with a pleased smile on her lips. “Good boy.”
The boy simpers at the praise, leaning into the touch the woman pets onto his head. Sukuna loses control at the casualness, the apathy. To have such inferior, lowly beings smile in his presence…  for them to have the fucking nerve to even meet his eyes…
He is the King of Curses. Whoever the fuck it is this woman may be, he knows he has to put her and her proletarian flunkeys in their damn places.
His four hands tremble as a wild rush of cursed energy pulses through his veins. A manic grin cuts his frown into a smile.
I’m going to fucking kill you.
But in the next moment, his hands begin to tremble for a wholly different reason. His blood goes cold.
“You know, you aren’t that bad-looking for someone with two faces and a mouth on their stomach.” The woman traces the frowning tincture of a smile on his stomach, arm raised into the air in order to reach it. She almost stands on her tip-toes. Even with her diminutive stature she seems to be the most powerful in the obliterated room. 
When did she—?
“If you accept defeat, your highness…” A sharp, sardonic quip comes to make him fraught with wrath, “Then I might just let you live and have you become one of my menials instead. You could do plenty with those four arms of yours.”
Her fingers have opened the mouth on his stomach. Now she only tries to prick the pads of her strong fingers on the razor-edged ridges of teeth there, awaiting his answer with easy patience. Her hand grows sticky with his slobber.
“She could kill you in seconds, King,” the boy from earlier speaks up. “Could just grab that tongue in your stomach and wrench it upward ‘till the tip of it comes out one o’ your eye sockets.”
“Oh, don’t spoil my fun Jackie,” she says, still playing with the mouth on his abdomen. “I was planning to keep it a surprise for our man here.”
“I’ll be part of your fucking band of delinquents,” he interrupts, locking eyes with the woman, head lowered. “But you will make me the superior of the rest of your blue-collared pack of idiots.”
“You’re going to have to work for that, Ryomen-chan.” She flashes a smile at him. Her hand slips further into the mouth on his abdomen. He knows what she’s doing. Tempting him into trying to bite her hand off, if only so she could acquire an excuse to kill him.
And no one. No one fucking gave her the authority to call him Ryomen-chan.
“I don’t fucking care,” he snaps back at her, grabbing her hand before quickly relaxing his grip. He falters ever so slightly as something in her eyes goes dark, then with a begrudging gentleness slips her hand out of the mouth. “I’m already part of your ragged band of lackeys, bitch. So fucking tell me what it is you me to do.”
---
He hates her with his entire being. With each day that passes he thinks of slitting her throat open and raping her as she dies. It is a train of thought that has been of much prominence since he was forced to join her group of brainless monkeys.
And he hates this, too, but he can’t say it’s all that bad. It’s much better than letting the bitch climb onto his shoulders and stand on his head to gain the elevated vantage she constantly insists is necessary to scout the area. When she has the ability to fucking fly. Fucking dumbass. 
So, yes. This isn’t… as demeaning as the rest of the orders she gives him.
“No, Ryomen-chan, you’re supposed to twist that strand over the middle one—oh, you’re hopeless.” 
Scratch that.
“That is the middle strand, bi—Ms. (Y/N),” he disguises the anger shaking in his voice with a call of her title, then shoves the strands of hair between his fingers to the front of her face. “Are you fucking blind?”
“As opposed to your deluded delusion, Ryomen-chan, this is the middle strand.” She holds a lock of her hair, plucking it from between his fingers. Something thumps in his chest as her fingers brush his palm. “Are you blind? Now that would be a horrible addition to your already damaged brain.”
“Let me fucking try again then. Give it here.”
Jeez. No one said styling a woman’s hair would be this… toilsome. 
“No, let me show you how to do it, Ryomen-chan. Sit down.” 
His knees bend as she shoves him down onto the plush pillow she uses when presenting herself as the Queen of Curses (a title he finds himself unable to contradict, fuck). His brows furrow and he turns back to protest but she only grips his chin in her fingers, her eyes meeting his, and snaps his head forward. 
“I said let me show you.” 
Something thuds in his chest again. He wills for it to shut the fuck up.
Her hand falls from his face, though her fingers stroke the bottom of his chin with the fleeting touch of danger before her hand moves to twine into his hair. He sits still, the breathless tightness in his chest soon giving way to ennui as he watches her braid his hair from the mirror. He finds himself observing the way her eyes glaze over with focus as she styles his hair. For the quickest second he wonders how hazy her eyes would go with him inside her.
“Alright, done. Did you take notes, Ryomen-chan? That was an important… lesson…” 
Her voice falters. He looks back at her and finds her eyes on his legs. Particularly on something protruding from between his thighs.
“Sukuna... I just braided your hair—”
“Not. Another. Word.” 
---
The first time he slides inside her, it’s like fucking himself into heaven.
He makes no sound as he fucks her, as she lets him fuck her, but everything in his head has blurred together to narrow his vision to only the sight of her beneath him.
He’s missed fucking women. Missed being inside them. He hates the fact that she is better than any bitch he has ever shoved his cock into.
He tries to keep his head in the crook of her neck. But then her legs hook together from around his waist, fingers curling into the hands he’s pinned to her wrists, and she’s moaning like the bitch in heat she really is. The curiosity to watch her face as he fucks her overwhelms him completely.
The touch she shares with his hands is more intimate than it should be. It’s as if his hands keep her grounded, keep her here with him as he makes her cum. 
Her back arches, and a third hand of his grips the small of her back to keep it arched, so that her stomach touches the mouth on his own abdomen.
For some fucking reason he wants to give her all the pleasure he can. Make her go cross-eyed. Fuck her 'till she goes stupid with sex.
He lets the mouth on his stomach fall open. The tongue there is long enough to slide between their bodies, wet enough to slither between them with ease. He smirks with the smile of a devil as the Queen of Curses, his only superior, cries out in pleasure as the tip of his tongue curls around the free space between their joined bodies. His tongue flicks her clit. Dips inside her to join the fullness of his cock. His eyes shut in lazy pleasure as she squeezes him tighter.
She has the body of a virgin. He can tell she’s only been touched once or twice in the past, judging from the way her dominance had fluctuated the moment she finished undressing him. Her touches were hesitant. Apprehensive. But for some reason she had also sought his pleasure, had taken his cock in her mouth and sucked not like an inexperienced little village girl but a masterful whore. 
He says it now, “The Queen of Curses, Ms. (Y/N), now the desperate bitch of her King.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest as she trembles in the wash of her fourth orgasm. He knows how many she’s had. He’s been counting; plans to give her ten. “A slut in the sheets, a queen in the streets. How delightful.”
And this, this makes the slut cum. 
And when she does, her authority returns. With a look of glaze-eyed intoxication in her eyes, she pushes his behemothic body off her, and rides him until he finally says her name. 
And at that point, he knows not whether he is her whore, or she is his. All he knows is that it’s fucking good to be inside her, and that she sounds and feels better than any other hole he's fucked.
The next time he fucks her, there are braids in her hair. 
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goldentsum · 4 years
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━ submissives and overstimulation
CHARACTERS: bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku, and kirishima eijirou
GENRE: smut
TAGS: overstimulation (male receiving), slight bdsm, oral, penetration, pegging, submissive males 
AUTHOR’S NOTE: my first bnha fic please-! i missed bnha so i rewatched a couple of eps of s4 and i got an idea-- a sinful one anyway-
━ bakugou ♡
surprisingly submissive. you both know he can throw you off him if he wants to but bakugou lives for the dominance that oozes out of you. 
a kinky piece of shit 
in the moment, he has absolutely no filter and is a fucking brat about it, hips jerking and moans loud as fuck that after you two finish, his voice is all scratchy and raw. 
but when you two are finished, he will get all embarrassed and angry if you comment about it like he wasn’t the one humping you like a dog. 
overstimulating katsuki is always so fun! 
bakugou growls whenever you two do something sexual but after a bit, it slowly turns into broken whimpers and you take pride on that.
his voice is just so fucking heavenly, his dick heavy in your mouth, and he taste absolutely delicious. 
one of the reasons you love giving him head is his cum. his cum just taste so amazing. there’s a hint of sweetness to it that gets you hooked and keeps you wanting more. 
so when it’s the 3rd time he came in your mouth, his voice is all raspy and raw and his body jerking nonstop but did you stop? nope. 
he’s too fun to tease to stop~ 
“f-fuck, (y/n)! don’t... s-stop--!” bakugou gasping through his 3rd orgasm for the night, body all sweaty and sensitive, as he felt you swirling your tongue around his dick’s sensitive head. 
you let of his cock for a moment, a lewd pop echoing in the room along with bakugou’s heavy pants. you smirked up at him, your hand encasing around his spent cock and rubbed him softly. it gained you a broken groan and a full on shudder, hips not knowing whether to lean away from your touch or thrust into your hand. 
“do you really want to stop, katsuki?” you asked, taking the reddening head of his dick into your mouth and licking around it gently but even that was too much for bakugou
“j-just-- let me breathe a second... geez, woman--” he groaned out and sighed in relief when he felt you stop though you didn’t remove him from your mouth. bakugou closed his eyes, breathing heavily and trying to calm his rapid heart. but then he felt a harsh suck making his eyes snap open in surprise and sensitivity and looked down at you with wide blown red eyes. 
“s-shit” his eyes rolled back to his head when you started taking more of him, your pace getting faster with each moment.
guess he just has to cum again, not that he’s really complaining. 
━ todoroki ♡
todoroki is a brat. thank you for coming to my tedtalk. but seriously though, he really is. he likes getting on your nerves and testing you and your patience as he tries out different things to get you to punish him. oomf--
he likes seeing you angry and getting punishments. his favorite is over-stimulation and orgasm denial, either is fine but over-stimulation has a special place in his heart~ 
he is a masochist. periodt. 
you don’t really like hurting him or call him degrading names cus you just wanna love him and kiss every inch of his body but shouto has different plans from you. 
and as time pass, you kinda got used to it but never really full on be dominant and sadistic on him.
so when you snapped one day, it lowkey scared him but damn, the punishment was amazing. 100000/10 todoroki will repeat again.
ngl though, shouto loves your aftercare more than any kinky shit you two tried. even if his masochistic side just wants you to leave him aching and covered with cum and sweat as he feels so worthless like a used sex doll, your aftercare was everything. 
it grew on you too, seeing him all bruised up and messy with cum and all sort of fluids raised a sick obsession in you. 
just imagining the big powerful pro-hero tied up in your bed and letting you do anything to him was making you horny. 
bratty masochist! todoroki is one hell of a ride. literally. 
ragged breaths escaped you as you stared down at the male beneath you. todoroki moaning at the pleasure, his hips trying to match yours but it was a little difficult with all the restrains you have on him. the burning ache on his wrists and arms being tied to the bedpost for who knows how long as the build up for his 4th orgasm made him dizzy. 
you bounced on his lap, feeling his large cock twitching inside you as it threatened to fill you up once again with his thick cum. over the haze of pleasure, you continued to watch your boyfriend get lost in the pleasure with his mouth open as a thin line of spit trailed down to his chin. 
growling when you felt him cum again as you ride him through his 4th orgasm, letting your hands fall down to his bruised chest and scratched him, leaving angry red lines on his marked up torso. 
todoroki groaned at the pain, hips frantically thrusting up to you and letting the overwhelming pleasure flood his entire body. broken moans and curses escaped the man when your thrust didn’t faltered even after his orgasm. 
“if you think we’re finish here then you’re absolutely wrong, you fucking whore. we’re only gonna stop if you make me cum, got that. you’re nothing more than a useless fuck toy.” you spat out, gripping his chin to make him look at you. todoroki’s half-lidded and fucked out eyes stared at you, letting out moans in between words. 
“yes-... u-use me more, m-mistress--” 
━ midoriya ♡
this boy is one whiny mofo-- goodluck 
midoriya may seem innocent but do not be fooled, he’s a sinful one. he may act all cute and stuff like that but when you two are alone, he will jump your bones like it’s no one’s business. 
he completely trusts you so you two try all sorts of kinks even if the other is unsure. it’s not gonna hurt to try. 
one kink he never knew he’ll have is pegging and you’re damn good at it. midoriya just can’t believe how well you just swirl your hips around making the dildo hit every spot in his walls that makes him see stars.
he’s really not afraid to be vocal and try all sort of things so sex is verryyy interesting. 
everytime you fuck midoriya into oblivion with a strap on, expect him to cum multiple times until he can’t anymore. he’s super sensitive too so yeah. 
midoriya cries when he’s sensitive but goddamn he looks so pretty like that. 
tears spilling down his freckled cheeks, his lips swollen, and his muscles contracting from the immense pleasure you keep giving him. 
he’s a greedy man though, even if he came multiple times he still gets soooo needy. loving the pain over-stimulation comes with. 
you love seeing the number one hero putty in your hands~ 
sounds of skin slapping and midoriya’s loud moans filled the room, your tiring hips started to get slower making the man beneath you whine at the decreasing pleasure. you clicked your tongue at that, stopping completely and leaned closer to midoriya, your chest pressed against his strong back while he heave heavy breaths. 
“s-sweets.. please m-move” he whined, grinding his ass to your strap-on and arched his back as he tried to get you to continue while he leaned against the pillow next to his head. his cock hanging between his thick thighs, cum spilling down his skin and to the blankets beneath him. he was still hard like he just didn’t cum 3 times already. 
you bit the broken skin on his neck as midoriya moaned at your sharp teeth sinking into his skin and arched his back even more, grasping the blankets. 
“good boys should take what they are given. no asking for more or less.” you said, hands moving to his chest as you thumb his nipples making him jerk his hips back and a hoarse moan escaping him. 
you started to move your hips again while one of your hands went to his thick cock, pumping him with the same pace as your thrusts, and midoriya’s eyes rolled back to his head, loud broken moans escaping him. 
you leaned away and pushed his head against the pillows, muffling his screams as you quicken your thrust. the strap-on hitting his prostate head on. 
“let’s see how many times you can cum before you pass out, izu~” 
━ kirishima ♡
red riot is a switch but leaning more into the dom side but this sweet boy loves getting praises and lives to please you. he will do everything in his power to make you satisfied and know that you are contented.
even when subbing, there’s still a hint of dominance to him. but! if you overstimulate him, his mind just melts and all thoughts and rationality flies out the window. 
his reactions are also so fucking yummy~ teeth gritting together, sharp inhales, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and hands gripping the covers of your bed as his quirk threatening to activate and just tear through the cloth.
i said it once and i’ll say it again, kirishima lives for praises. 
so please praise him. 
he’s also soooo sensitive. because when he was a teenage, he barely touched himself with how hectic UA was but when he finally had time and you came along, his libido just skyrocketed! 
at first, he cums way to early but do not fret, kiri will never never leave you unsatisfied. 
his oral techniques are top tier. you can’t change my mind. 
kirishima also is pretty quiet with just loud grunts and groans but when he already came multiple times, he really goes feral. 
he keeps on chasing the pleasure even though it probably hurts with all the sensitivity he’s feeling. 
his moans are broken and it only gets louder at that point. 
“baby girl, ahh- fuck--! you feel so good-” kirishima groans out, mouth open and showing those sharp teeth of his that you oddly had some weird fixation with. you looked at his lips, it was red and tender, as his teeth peaked out. you rolled your hips when you heard his small whine as your hand went to his mouth. shoving two fingers in his mouth, playing with his tongue that eagerly met your fingers. 
feeling his cock twitch inside you, you smirked down at the fucked out expression the man was giving you. you pressed down to his throat making him gag but his thrust never faltered and only quicken at your action.
“you look so fucking amazing, eijirou~” 
at your praise, his hips jerked and a loud moan followed it, a bit muffled by your fingers. riding him, you moaned at the pleasure he gave you as kirishima’s thick cock nudged your g-spot. 
the red-haired male groaned loudly around your fingers when he felt you clench around him, your velvety walls tight and warm as you rip an unexpected orgasm from him. 
hips jerking wildly when he suddenly came, pleasure coursing through his veins. a pathetic whimper escaping him when you continued to ride him. the sensitivity brought tears to his eyes but he didn’t stop you, body jerking when pain and pleasure hit him. 
“i wanna see you cum again, ei~” 
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Going Mining (Adrenaline Junkie Part 2)
Part 1     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: swearing, OOC sbi
Word count: 2,582
It had been about a year since you told your family about your tendencies. Since then, you quickly became efficient in the art of redstone wiring. The precious dust became your saving grace in a way, it was because of it that you stopped skydiving. Of course, you missed the feeling you got when you got close to the ground going at mach speed, but they were just intrusive thoughts at this point; you didn’t make any move to fulfill your desire. Redstone wiring took your mind off from it.
Lately, you spent most of your time in the basement where you set up your workshop to craft most of your supplies and write out blueprints. You were working on finding out a way to somehow launch TNT to make igniting it safer. You figured out that you could use a dispenser to plant the TNT, repeaters to prolong the time the TNT gets placed, a button to press to initiate the whole process, and use redstone dust to connect everything together. Now you have a working TNT launcher, but you have to find a block to use as a wall to protect the user from the shockwave of the explosion. You found out the hard way that the shockwave is enough to knock you back a few feet and give you small burns.
You reached over for more iron to make another repeater, but your hand came up empty. You furrowed your brows as your hand patted around the chest before finally looking over to look more closely. The chest was completely empty. You groaned in frustration, you could’ve sworn that you had more iron to work with. Looks like you had to go mining again. Sighing as you checked your redstone dust supplies, you supposed that you could look for more of that too.
Prying your goggles off from your eyes and placing them on your crafting table, you checked the time. It was almost sunset, which means it’s close to dinner time. You walked up the stairs and to the kitchen, where Philza was cooking dinner.
Sitting down at the dinner table, you greeted him. “Hey Dad, what’s for dinner tonight?”
“Steak and baked potatoes. How’s the TNT launcher coming up?”
“It’s coming along. At this point, I just need to figure out what block I could use as a wall to block the shockwave and how many repeaters I need.”
You remembered earlier today when you got the unexpected knockback in your backyard where you were building the launcher. Philza got used to the constant explosions, so he wasn’t phased when the explosion was louder than usual. He just thought you were using more TNT than usual, so he just resumed chopping wood. Soon after the explosion, he heard a thud and a groan coming from you. When he glanced in your direction, he saw you laying in the grass a few feet from the launcher. He chided you for not being careful with how much TNT you used, but he was proud of you for being so innovative. After giving you a health potion for your burns you got, he told you that you were done building for the day.
He hummed thoughtfully as he flipped a steak. “Have you thought about using obsidian? It’s pretty durable and it could withstand quite a bit of damage.”
You slapped a hand to your forehead. Why didn’t you think about using obsidian? Most TNT technicians used obsidian to shield them.
“...No, no I haven’t. You don’t suppose that we have any laying around?”
“I’m sorry hun, but we don’t. I could go mining for some though.”
“No that’s fine, I was actually going to find a cave tomorrow to restock on iron and redstone. I’m running low.”
“If that’s the case, I’ll lend you my diamond pickaxe. The iron pickaxe you have won’t mine through obsidian. Dinner’s almost done, can you go get your brothers?”
“On it!”
You ran up the stairs, hearing the strumming of a guitar growing louder as you approached Wilbur’s room. Knocking loud enough for him to hear over the guitar, the strumming stopped and he called out a “come in”.
Opening the door, you smiled at him. “Hey Wil. Dad wanted me to tell you dinner’s almost ready. That new song sounds great by the way.”
He put his precious guitar back into its case on his bed as he turned around and returned your smile.
“Thanks (y/n). Tell him that I’ll be down in a moment.”
Nodding, you closed his door and went across the hall to Techno’s room. Before you could knock, the door swung open to reveal your oldest brother. 
“I heard you tell Wilbur dinner’s ready. I’ll see you there.”
You stepped aside to let him into the hall and started to walk to Tommy’s room. You swung open his door and chuckled lightly as he jumped.
“Hey gremlin. Dinner’s ready.”
“How come you knock on Wilbur’s and The Blade’s door but not mine? I could’ve been naked!”
“You do the same thing to me. Techno and Wil knock on my door, so I knock on theirs. Now, get down to the dining room before your food gets cold.”
He stood up to his full height and casually walked over to you. In the past year he has grown to be almost 8 inches taller than you and he didn’t show any signs of stopping any time soon. To your surprise, he shoved you to the side and sprinted out of his room.
“LAST ONE TO THE DINING ROOM HAS TO DO THE DISHES TONIGHT!”
“NOT FAIR, YOU GOT A HEAD START.”
You sprinted after him, but he was ahead of you by time you passed your other brother’s rooms. By the time you got to the top of the stairs, he was halfway down them. There was only one way you’d win. You hauled yourself over the railing of the stairs and jumped, extending your wings to slow your descent. You swiftly regained your footing and sprinted towards the kitchen with desperation. You weren’t going to do the dishes when it was Tommy’s turn; it was your night last night. You laughed in an early celebration when you neared the door to the dining room. There was no way Tommy could possibly-
You yelped as you felt your body being pulled back and a slight pain in your wings. Tommy must’ve grabbed your wings. Falling on your ass, you quickly reached to grab Tommy’s ankle to bring him down on the ground with you. He landed on his stomach with a thud as you pulled him back as hard as you could. You crawled towards the dining room door, only to feel Tommy grabbing your wings again to pull you back. Wincing as you felt some feathers being yanked out, you cursed your wings for growing to be almost larger than your body and easy to grab. You slid across the ground as Tommy pulled you back and tried to crawl into the dining room. You reached out with your other wing and started battering his head to disorient him. It worked as he stopped and you felt him trying to swat your wing away so he could see. Making haste, you crawled into the dining room.
“OI THAT’S NOT FAIR. YOU STARTED HITTING ME.”
“All’s fair in love and war, gremlin. Besides, you pulled my wings first, so you technically started it. I wasn’t about to do the dishes for you.”
“I don’t know why you are the one calling me gremlin, you’re short as hell.”
“Oi, 5’2 is average height! You all are just way too tall!”
Despite you and Tommy arguing, you both were giggling and smiling at each other. The rest of your family watched you two in amusement for a couple of minutes before Philza spoke up.
“Alright you two, dinner’s gonna get cold if you keep it up. Tommy, (y/n) won fair and square. You will also pick up the feathers you plucked out after dinner. (Y/n), don’t jump over the railing again. I understand that you can fly but still that’s dangerous.”
You both murmured “yes, Dad” before taking your seats at the table. As the dinner progressed, everyone had small side conversations about how their days were. Dinner went by faster than usual, probably because everyone was tired. 
Tommy grumbled to himself as he picked up the feathers on the ground. Taking pity on him, you picked up everyone’s dishes and took them to the kitchen sink and filled it up with soapy water for Tommy. You washed and dried them by time he got done picking up your feathers. He was an annoying little gremlin, but he was your little annoying gremlin. You loved your little brother.
“...Thanks for helping me. You didn’t have to do the dishes.”
“It’s not a problem, Tommy. You already had to pick up my feathers. Er, sorry for hitting you with my wings, that probably hurt.”
He chuckled, rubbing his head. “It kinda hurt, but I deserved it for pulling out your feathers.”
You moved your wing in front of you to examine it. Only a few secondary feathers were missing, it was probably mostly your semiplume feathers he pulled out. 
“You didn’t do too much damage, no worries. I’m going mining tomorrow, is there anything you need me to pick up?”
His eyes lit up. “If you find a diamond, give it to me. My jukebox broke today.”
“I gotchu. It’s getting pretty late, T. We should go to bed.”
You gestured for Tommy to follow as you started to walk back into the dining room and into the kitchen. You two made comfortable small talk as you walked back to your rooms for the night. After changing into your pajamas, you plopped onto your bed and buried yourself in your sheets. You struggled to cover your wings before giving up and leaving them to droop off the side of your bed. You really needed to ask Philza how he covered his wings, they were larger than yours so he probably had a little technique he uses. 
Having wings kinda sucked sometimes. Besides not being able to cover them with a blanket easily, they didn’t fit on your bed if you wanted to stretch them out to their full length. When you were younger, your wings always fit on your bed and you would always keep them covered. But now with your wingspan being longer than your height, they were a pain to manage, especially at night. You always had to either sleep on your stomach or side and you couldn’t roll over without pulling a muscle in your wing. Because of this, it usually took you a little longer than most to fall asleep.
Your blissful slumber was interrupted by the light peeking in through your curtains. Sitting up, you stretched out your wings, smiling in satisfaction when you heard them crack. You stood up and grabbed your clothes for the day. Since you usually woke up a little earlier than your brothers, you always got first dibs on the shower after Philza. You yawned tiredly as you flicked on the water faucet and stepped into the shower. Now slightly more awake, you stepped out and started to preen your wings. Another downside to having wings is how high maintenance they are. 
After taking care of the rest of your morning routine, you went down to the kitchen where Philza was sitting at the table drinking some coffee looking as dead inside as ever. 
“Mornin’ Dad.”
He grunted in response. He was never a morning person, even after adopting four kids. You walked over to the chest where the food is kept and pulled out some eggs, bread, and beef. Usually, you made breakfast while Philza made dinner. You hummed a small tune as you flipped the eggs and turned over the beef sausages. One by one, your brothers joined Philza at the table and waited while you cooked. 
You grabbed four plates and sets of silverware from the cabinets and put on an appropriate amount of food on each, placing them in front of your siblings and dad. You grabbed your own before joining them at the table. 
“So, I’m going mining today. Is there anything you guys want me to get?”
They all chimed in with their needs. Philza wanted you to grab more iron and diamonds, Techno wanted some gold, Wilbur didn’t ask for anything, and you already knew what Tommy wanted. It sounded easy enough.
While the boys wrapped up breakfast, you excused yourself from the table and went back to your room to grab your satchel, pocket watch, iron pickaxe, and iron sword. Walking back downstairs, Philza gave you the supplies you would need today: a diamond pickaxe and a plethora of torches. “No staying out past sunset. Don’t mine down. Stay aware of your surroundings. If you see a mob, do not try to fight it, just try to run. If you get hurt, come straight home. If you get lost, follow the torches.”
“You worry about us too much.”
He sighed as he pulled you into a hug. “I just want you to be safe, hun.”
You smiled as you hugged him back and wrapped your wings around him. “I know, Dad. I’ll be safe, promise.” 
“You better, or else you’re grounded,” he joked.
You chuckled as you pulled away and said goodbye to your brothers for the day. Heading out into the brisk morning, you took in a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You had a feeling that this mining trip was going to be bountiful. You spread your wings and took off into the sky. 
Flying for a while, you spotted an opening in the ground. Grinning, you gradually landed before walking into the cave.
You spent hours mining precious ores, working your way deeper and deeper into the cave. You still had at least five hours before you had to start heading back to the house, so you thought going deeper wasn’t going to hurt anybody. 
You hummed to yourself as you passed multiple stalagmites. This cave was seemingly never ending, you’d have to mark it on your map so you could come back to it. The mouth of the cave kept getting larger and larger until it melded into a huge, winding cavern. You’ve never been this deep before, so you were excited to explore. Being mindful of placing down torches, you explored the cavern before you came across a strange looking block you’ve never seen before.
It glowed a luminescent green as weird looking projections (tentacles maybe? Was this thing alive?) flailed about before they fell into a relaxed movement and stopped glowing. Reaching out to poke it, you cringed as it felt weirdly moist and it made a slight squelching noise. It flailed about again as it glowed. You saw movement in the corner of your eye and turned to see another one of the blocks doing the same thing. How weird. 
Suddenly, the nearby lights started to flicker on and off, even your torches, as you heard a rhythmic thudding sound bounce off the walls of the cave. The thudding got louder and louder gradually as you frantically looked around for whatever it was and pulled out your sword. Hearing movement from behind you, you turned around only to freeze in fear. 
What the fuck was that?
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sugar-petals · 3 years
Text
SuperM Fluff & NSFW Notes
↳ 🌹aka some of their romantic antics plus random 18+ imagines 👋
warnings ⚠️ rated (super) m, boyfriends hc, porn mentions, partial fem!reader, sex toys
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FLUFF
since baekhyun knows how to make scented candles, he creates one for you as a birthday present with your favorite fragrances.
every entry in mark’s diary involves fond thoughts about you.
taemin kisses you more than his cat kkoongie on a daily basis so let that sink in. his smooch obsession is getting out of hand.
lucas, having giant fingers after all, learns how to knit in order to make you a warm scarf. he’s still a bit clumsy with it and had to call kun for advice, but the result is surprisingly proper and quickly becomes your favorite item. it’s a little huge but well, he thinks in his dimensions. lucas’ next project is a beanie.
ten overwhelms you with pet names. in fact, he seemingly seems to come up with a new one each day.
kai is a candlelight dinner, rose petals and music kinda guy. he does every old-school thing in the book.
taeyong can cuddle endlessly in bed. he just doesn’t wanna leave.
lucas gladly shares his sweaters. they’re ginormous so, perfect cuddle material.
baekhyun is already a fool. so — when he falls in love, he becomes an even bigger fool. or, the contrary happens: he becomes dead silent around his partner because he’s so enthralled. he can take this more seriously than you think.
mark likes to write little cards and many many texts to express his love.
lucas is the type who can help you put on your jeans when they were shrinking a bit too much in the dryer. he’s pretty sexy like that and things can get really touchy.
cheesy fucking kai, and there’s only one guy who would do this, has actually lowered himself over a puddle once so you would have a bridge. brushed it off like a daily workout rep.
not one shower missed without baekhyun joining you. yes, it’s not always sexy time, he likes it when you shampoo his hair and whisper sweet nothings. and obviously: it’ll all devolve to a laughing fit.
taeyong is the type who wants to be proposed to.
taemin will get a motorcycle license and take you for a frequent ride. he loves getting those kind of back hugs.
both ten and lucas are great at making bracelets. wayv’s dorm is fully equipped with charms, strings, and pearls, so expect matching ones for you.
we’ve seen it, that one’s his favorite move. kai wraps his hand around your shoulder when you walk together.
mark will ALWAYS share his melon.
making you swoon on a DVD evening is lucas’ favorite hobby. he will buy you the most sugary-sweet romance movies. he will often browse streaming sites to select the latest sentimental plots. all these dramas seem to have a male lead who is suspiciously tall and lanky.
if you allow him, taeyong customizes your white tees with his cute drawings.
since taemin swims in money thanks to his profession as the god of kpop (yes, this is a registered job name because i say so), he can fulfill you any wish. he’s stingy and pouty when the shinee hyungs can pay, and the motherfucker baekhyun is even richer since his albums have been taking off so he opens his mochi wallet when superm is gathered, but you... are a different case. taemin will humbly empty his entire pockets when he overhears you gushing over something. there’s a voice in his mind going: must splurge!!
mark loves christmas, you establish an annual tradition to stage a whole couple evening.
baekhyun likes to play charades and especially do karaoke with you. he’s always cutely wiggling his butt and dances like a drunk uncle. he hits the high notes anyway and makes sure you score 100 points.
taeyong can make out with you while at the same time making sure that the milk doesn’t get burned on the stove. kiss’n’stirr multitask tyong alert. gotta make sure the cocoa is served in time, you know.
all the members enjoy playing board games. yep, imagine the fun and sheer chaos.
lucas has the funniest laugh ever indeed. he’ll react to all your jokes, no matter how lame they might be. intensely reassuring.
taemin’s hand is basically glued to yours.
taeyong and mark are the kinds of boyfriends that spoil their partner with skincare. fancy a nice face massage with a nice fragrant oil?
baekhyun has been baking heart-shaped pizzas ever since you started dating. he just can’t make them round anymore.
mark will join you on anything you’re currently bingewatching. 
kai sometimes — only half-jokingly — goes down on both knees bowing forward with his hands on the ground just to show how much he wants to thank you. in case you didn’t notice: this guy treats you like a deity.
ten usually gets confused glances from the other members whenever he gets the current date wrong: he simply loses track of time with you.
lucas makes a habit of buying you flowers every other week. but on unpredictable occasions, and he arranges them in places you’d never expect.
taemin will build you a weird-looking snowman to make you laugh, and give it an even stranger name. ten will build one that looks like you. kai doesn’t build snowmen, he just stands there challenging you to throw snow balls at him.
mark will hang out with you at the beach constantly bringing his guitar. he’ll serenade you all the time.
returning from three months of touring, baekhyun has once climbed your balcony when your parents were in the other room. yep, he was that desperate to see you. somebody give this man a rope and helmet.
taeyong writes down heartfelt confessions on 365 folded slips of paper so you can open one every day. your reactions will range from ‘awwh!’ to straight-up tears.
ten does regular couple yoga with you. a mildly challenging form, not the circus acrobat version. he’ll do the difficult parts anyway. you can pretzel this guy up, he’ll do anything to make you laugh.
when it rains you hook your arm around his, and lucas always holds the umbrella. even the wildest gush of wind can’t make it turn inside out. you arrive home entirely dry. xuxi is so cute, he’s also a great source of cooling shadow in the summer without even trying.
taemin’s skinship overdrive doesn’t stop with endless hand-holding, back hugs and kisses. he wants to lay down in your lap whenever he can. he looks damn pretty with his hair splaying there. if you work on your laptop, you can pretty much count to ten and he’s already nestled there.
kai does pushups with you on his back. it’s a staple. each time he does one, he says ‘i love you’. he increases his count every day.
NSFW
it’s no secret that taeyong is great at acting or pulling off any outfit and costume. expect roleplay of the finest kind — literally. he looks good in a firefighter uniform. you’ll be burning up pretty much automatically.
taemin can’t keep his tongue in. it’s terrible. he’s always in the mood for head. his sloppy noises are the absolute worst, it turns you on way too fast.
lucas had some major problems finding condoms that fit him.
ten and taemin are so switchy, they have an unresolved power struggle going on. begs for a dominant third party to help them out.
kai owns expensive latex gear.
baekhyun may be the king of vocals and breath technique, but if you push him far enough he does get hoarse.
taemin often jokes how kai will one day break his dick from fucking too hard.
meanwhile, mark’s dick is already falling off – from fucking too often. this guy has some major hormones going for him. no surprise, a guy who can promote in four kpop groups at the same time is a stamina king.
taeyong likes eating pussy with another party involved. three’s a crowd my friend. sometimes it’s taemin who unleashes his spit waterfall power, sometimes it’s baekhyun who preoccupies himself with nibbling at the inner thigh while taeyong digs in.
taemin owns the most underwear.
mark takes valerian drops because he is so nervous in bed. it never really goes away, it’s his nature.
taeyong keeps a lube collection. a different flavor for all occasions. he likes associating certain scents with specific body parts.
kai has a heels kink. he literally goes wild over it.
taemin likes to have sex with favorite glasses on.
taeyong and kai are the most likely to cry during sex. baekhyun as well if you rough him up enough. 
mark gets rock hard the fastest, followed by kai. he’s a grower.
taeyong gets the best inspiration for a song when he gets a casual dick riding.
taemin watches extremely x-rated erotic thrillers and bdsm flicks that are heavy on the plot. he gets more invested in the characters and actors than you think. since his japanese is amazing? of course he also owns a giant 90s hentai collection. 
when he’s jerking off, baekhyun chokes himself. a) because he’d make too much noise otherwise and b) because asphyxiation is his favorite thing.
kai feels pleasure in his every cell. he cums the hardest. and, as you can expect, his body expresses it the most extremely, accurately, passionately. if you’ve seen it even once, you’ll never look at him the same again.
taemin has less experience than his discography claims, but more than you’d think. he researches sexual techniques as well. you can brace yourself.
mark has not just a tiger inside, but a freak inside, waiting to be unleashed.
sex while gaming is a go-to activity for baekhyun.
lucas has the best stamina when it comes to getting head.
taemin throws his head back during sex. and no, he doesn’t T-pose. i’m kidding — of course he does. but only when he’s on his back.
taeyong tends to grip a pillow when he cums.
or he humps one when he’s by himself.
ten has the best taste in sexy time playlists.
baekhyun has the best taste in singing his own playlist along.
oh, the things kai has bought at a gas station at 3AM.
baekhyun sucks strap the best. he can open his mouth the widest, drools a lot, and makes the best noises unsurprisingly.
how to turn on lee taemin? he likes getting slapped.
since he’s the most avid and most diverse eater, lucas’ sperm tastes the best. he’s shove 50 fruits into his system just to give you a sweet experience.
mark is absolutely a starfish. 
kai wears fishnet tops if you fancy it.
curiously, baekhyun out of all people doesn’t announce when he’s cumming. you’ll hear it, though.
taeyong’s dildo collection is one for the books.
taemin has visited a pro dominatrix a couple times. needless to say, he was the #1 favorite client at the dungeon. having fully submerged into a fantasy world, taemin was one whip crack away from falling in love with the mistress. but then covid happened and the venue closed.
mark’s dick looks really pretty.
taemin can grind on the strap at every humanly possible angle. he’s almost always ready to take it. he carries a prep kit.
kai — that fucker — knows how to make you wet the most with his bare hands. prepare for the thigh ride of your life, too.
taeyong, baekhyun, and taemin have the best arches. kai is coming for the top three as well. ten’s arch is so good, it can’t be considered one anymore.
baekhyun knows every adult movie out there. theoretically, nothing can shock him. in reality, he melts in your hands.
taeyong is so sexually active with you, he has quit eating garlic.
kai will exploit your muscle kink in any way he can.
taemin, being a devil, has that one button on his phone that he can press when you go out for dinner. he’s OBSESSED with getting you off. once you head home, it’s basically running down your thighs.
ten has once opened a condom with scissors to scare away a date that grew weird on him by the time it got to the do.
lucas is too tall for doing missionary normally.
this will surprise nobody: mark is great at constantly keeping up the dirty talk.
baekhyun’s car is sort of like a brothel on wheels. he can’t count how many times he got down and dirty in there. he cleans it all up by himself.
kai can technically grip you the hardest but he’s the gentlest and great at caressing the whole body.
taemin has the easiest time saying what precisely he wants. he is also the best people reader — most your wishes he can pretty intuit. taemin observes your interests well.
ten likes his hair pulled and makes angelic noises when you do so.
baekhyun likes camgirls and erotic chats with strangers online. he spends a lot of money for nsfw internet encounters.
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toosicktoocare · 3 years
Text
okay, spoilers for the most recent 911 episode below (and tagged as such as well)
i haven’t written in months- i just have a lot of feelings, and i needed to work through them
It’s weird, Buck thinks, how quickly the sound around him can fade, how fast the pain in his back and his side can grow fuzzy, almost numb even, until he’s completely disassociating, losing his touch on reality in time with Eddie’s final blink.
He’s back at Eddie’s house, head burrowed in the fridge, and he’s digging around meal prep containers for hidden beers.
“Heard you flipped out yesterday.”
“Huh?” Buck’s only half listening because he’s on a quest of the alcoholic nature, and he’s pretty sure he spots a dark neck of a beer bottle nestled between a container of rice and a jar of low fat mayonnaise.
“At the well.”
This Buck hears quite clearly, and he snags the beer and turns away from the fridge, lips curving softly downward at the edges.
“Bobby said you were frantic.”
The grooves in the beer bottle cap dig into Buck’s palm. Or maybe, Buck thinks, he’s deliberately pushing it into his skin. “You were trapped.”
“And your plan was what, Buck? Dig me out with your hands?”
“If that’s what I had to,” Buck spits back, eyes narrow, shooting Eddie a gaze he is normally on the receiving end of, and it’s just enough to have Eddie’s face go soft before him.
“Not sure if I should thank you because I know that you are genuinely serious, or if I should officially declare you as the world’s biggest idiot because I know that you are genuinely serious.”
Buck laughs lowly under his breath, yet still, his eyes are warm, determined, and he cocks his head to the side. “I said I have your back, didn’t I?”
“This again?” Eddie asks, now laughing with Buck.
“I’m a man of my damn word, Eddie. If I say I have you back, then I have your back.”
“Firefighter Buckley!”
Buck’s gotten used to pulling himself slowly out of a dissociative state, cool and calm, working through grounding techniques, so the abrupt, loud voice in his ear is a gun shot that rips through his mind.
Gun shot.
Buck blinks quickly. Eddie’s face is now in full view, and he looks unnaturally pale and cold, a contrast to his blood still warm and splattered across his face.
“Eddie.”
“Sir, we’ll get to him as soon as it’s safe. We need to focus on you first.”
Buck shoves himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the thrum of pain gnawing at his side. He’s sure he’ll look purple and blue by morning.
“No, Eddie,” he repeats, unable to form much more in terms of sentences. His mind can only collect what’s currently the most meaningful in this situation, and that one thing is only Eddie.
“Eddie,” he tries again, louder, hoping to jostle Eddie awake by his voice, hoping that, maybe, Eddie’s only passed out from the pain and that the pool of blood isn’t actually draining from a potentially severe gun shot wound.
“Firefighter Buckley—”
Buck shoves away from the firefighter beside him. He ignores the hand grabbing at his shirt, ignores the voices shouting for him to come back, and then he’s hovering over Eddie, shielding him, assessing what he can of the wound with shaking hands.
Eddie’s unresponsive below him, and Buck’s stomach twists so tightly, he could double over in pain. He’s just turning around to yell for help when he’s being jerked to his feet by a cop. His eyes stay on Eddie as Eddie’s rushed onto a backboard, and he’s so focused on Eddie’s face, so desperate for a hint of life, a crease of the brow, that he doesn’t process the hand squeezing his arm or the voice close to his ear until the cop is speaking.
“Go with him, and stay low.”
Nodding, Buck hunches over and runs to the ambulance Eddie’s being lifted into, and the second he gets a nod, he pulls himself up, and the door’s closed in front of him.
With as loud as it had been outside, it’s eerily quiet in the ambulance, even with the siren blaring overhead. The paramedics are working quickly and quietly, discussing the best course of action under their breath. Buck stares at Eddie’s sodden shirt, at the too dark stain toward his shoulder, and he reaches over, ripping the shirt open to get a clear look.
“Sir, please let us handle the patient.”
One of the paramedics swats at Buck’s hands, and he leans back, eyes glued to the small silver bullet nestled inside of Eddie’s chest. It wasn’t a clean shot, and Buck knows that poses more recovery complications. He’s sure surgery is just on the horizon for Eddie.
He only pulls his eyes away from the angry wound when Eddie groans, his brow furrowing.
“Eddie?” Buck leans forward, one hand resting just above Eddie’s forehead, his hair soft against his palm. “Can you hear me?”
Eddie’s eyes squeeze before he pries them open. Even through the small slits, Buck can see how glossy and unfocused Eddie looks.
“Buck?”
His voice is shot, weak, and thick with pain, and Buck nods, one thumb smoothing across Eddie’s forehead.
“Hey, man. Yeah, it’s me. You’re going to be okay.”
Eddie frowns, and he lifts one shaking hand to Buck’s cheek, fingers pressing to the blood on Buck’s face.
“You’re hurt?”
“What?” Buck asks, shaking his head. He goes to explain more, to reassure that he’s fine, but Eddie goes slack below him, and the paramedics push him back, shouting for the driver to pick up the pace. Eddie’s crashing, and the frantic beeping is deafening to his ears.
He won’t because he wants all focus to be on saving Eddie, but still, Buck kind of wishes he could throw up to ease the pressure in his gut.
***
“Buck!”
Bobby’s voice rings out across the waiting room, and Buck lifts his head from his hands to see Bobby running toward him with Athena hot on his heels. He can see the question written all over Bobby’s face, and he holds up a single hand, shaking his head.
“It’s not my blood.” What he leaves off is how he’d give anything for it to be his blood. For him to be the one carted off to surgery, not Eddie.
Bobby nods, and Athena sighs softly.
“You okay, Buckaroo?”
Buck’s not sure if it’s just because it’s Athena, or if it’s her motherly nature, but his composure crumbles at her words. He wants to tell them he’s fine— that Eddie is the one everyone should worry about. But, he can’t stop shaking, and his eyes have been burning with unshed tears.
Athena pulls him to his feet, and he falls against her, a sob ripping up his throat. He can feel Bobby at his back, a warm, grounding hand to his shoulder, and Athena’s arms are wrapped tightly around his back, keeping the pieces together.
“You’re okay, Buck.”
He clings to Athena until he’s sure he can stand up on his own, and then he falls into the soft question and answer process, revealing all he knows: Eddie was shot; the police who took his statement have yet to find the shooter, but they don’t think Eddie was specifically a target; he’s in surgery, but the doctors are extremely optimistic.
“Are we going to be able to pry you away from this hospital?” Athena asks, and Buck gives a shaky nod.
“Chris is with a friend, and Eddie was supposed to pick him up. I’m going to... I’ve got to tell him.”
“We can have someone else—”
“—no,” Buck interrupts, stepping back. “It has to be me.” He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the smudged glass of a vending machine: pale face smeared red with dried blood. “I should,” he notions weakly to his face, laughs awkwardly, and Bobby nods, a frown etched across his lips.
“I’ll drive you back to your jeep after you wash up.”
Nodding, Buck slips to the bathroom, thankful to find it empty. He looks at himself, but all he can see is the muted, pale shock written across Eddie’s face looking back at him, painted in the blood splattered across his face. He turns the tap on as hot as it will allow, and then he scrubs, hands moving roughly up and down his face, the hand soap slightly stinging his skin. He scrubs until his entire face burns, and then he stumbles backward with a gasp he covers with his palm.
He holds in a deep breath that quakes against his lungs, and he doesn’t release it until he’s sure he can without falling apart.
“Eddie’s going to be fine,” he says aloud, practicing now to sound as confident and as believable as he can.
***
“Did you get hurt at work, Buck?”
Buck’s not surprised that the first question out of Christopher’s mouth is about his well-being and not of his dad’s absence— typical Diaz behavior.
“Uh, no, bud.” Buck kneels down, leveling himself with Christopher. “It’s not mine.”
“Where’s my dad?”
“He...” Buck stumbles with his words, swallows thickly. “He won’t be coming home tonight, bud. He got hurt at work, but I’m going to make sure he gets better real fast.”
“Is he at the hospital? Can I see him?”
Christopher’s voice is growing more and more unsteady, adopting a waver that’s a brick smashing to Buck’s heart.
“He is, but he’s still busy getting patched up, so he can’t have visitors just yet.”
Christopher nods, and Buck wonders just when it was exactly that Chris matured without his seeing. “He’s going to be okay, bud. But you know what will make him get better faster?”
Before Buck can answer, Carla slips into the room, supplies in hand.
“Make him a really big card!”
“Yes!” Christopher’s smile turns into a giggle as Carla drops markers and glitter and poster boards onto Eddie’s kitchen table.
“Chris, Carla’s going to watch you while I go back to the hospital. As soon as I get the okay for visitors, I’ll call.”
Christopher nods and shuffles to the table, already scoping out markers to use for the card. While occupied, Buck slips toward the door with Carla hot on his heels.
“Is he okay?”
“Still in surgery,” Buck answers on auto-pilot, having muttered those words too many times already to count.
“Are you okay?”
Buck laughs weakly, rakes a hand through his hair. “Ask me again when Eddie’s awake.”
“Oh, honey—”
“It’s okay,” Buck mutters, casting his eyes to the floor. “Sign my name on the card for me?”
“Buck, why don’t you stay for a little bit? Change your clothes? Eat something?”
“I can’t,” Buck shakes his head, unsure how to explain that the only way to easy the jutting pain in his chest is to be back at the hospital. “I need to—”
“Go,” Carla rolls her eyes. “But I’m bringing you food.”
Buck smiles, small but genuine. “Thanks, Carla.”
***
Buck scans his text from Hen, gnaws at his lower lip.
[From: Hen] where’d you run off to? We’re all in the waiting room.
He pulls his gaze up to Eddie’s sleeping form, to the wires sticking out of him.
[To: Hen] I may have waited until a dr walked through the double doors and snuck into Eddie’s room...
His phone blows up shortly after with texts and calls, and he ignores all, instead typing to a 118 group text.
[To: Fire Fam] look, I know I’m not supposed to be back here, but don’t tell on me okay? I know the dr said his surgery went well, but I had to see for myself
[From Chim in Fire Fam] Hen’s rolling her eyes
[From Hen in Fire Fam] damn right I am. So is Athena
[From Bobby in Fire Fam] how is he?
He looks terrible, Buck thinks. His skin is still too pale, and there are dark purple spots coloring below his eyes. His breathing is labored, and his face is pinched as if in pain.
Terrible, Buck thinks, yet so beautifully alive. The relief is edging his nerves, hesitant to completely encompass him.
[To Fire Fam] he looks like hell, but he’s alive
Buck locks his phone and leans forward, resting his head on the edge of Eddie’s bed. He lays one hand over Eddie’s, and he drifts somewhere between awake and asleep, coming to fully when Eddie groans above him.
He jerks forward, leans in close, and squeezes Eddie’s hand. “Eddie? You with me?”
It takes an impossibly long time for Eddie to open his eyes, but when he does, his smile is weak but warm enough to bring Buck’s relief fully over him.
“Buck.”
There’s no confusion in Eddie’s voice this time— only soft certainty, and Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand once more.
“In the flesh.”
“You’re here.”
“Yep,” Buck nods, smiling. “Though when I have to duck behind a chair when a nurse comes in, pretend like you didn’t see me, yeah? Kinda breaking hospital rules right now.”
Eddie laughs, and then he coughs weakly, wincing. Still, his eyes hold Buck’s gaze, and Buck wouldn’t look away even for a second.
“Chris?” Eddie finally croaks out, and Buck nods.
“He’s okay. He’s with Carla. They are coming as soon as the doctor gives the okay for visitors.”
“Legal visitors,” Eddie clarifies, and Buck smiles. If Eddie can joke, he must be on the mend.
“Hey, a part of having your back means I simply must sneak into your hospital room to make sure you don’t croak.”
Eddie’s laugh turns into a harsher cough, and Buck smooths a hand over Eddie’s forehead. “Maybe stop laughing?”
“Stop making me then,” Eddie pouts, and Buck leans back with a smile.
“I gotta talk to Carla.”
Buck cocks a brow. “She’ll be here as soon as she can.”
“She told me to make sure I’m following my own heart.”
Frowning, Buck tilts his head. “Uh, Eddie? You okay, man?”
“She was right— I thought I was but I wasn’t.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll give myself up and grab a nurse. You are talking too weird right now. Clearly something’s not clicking right in that old head of yours.” Buck makes to stand, to leave, his concern heightening behind his poor joke, but Eddie grabs at his wrist, a weak grip that Buck frowns deeply at.
“Eddie, I—”
“Stay. Please.”
Slowly, Buck takes his seat. “As long as you stop being weird as hell.”
“I will for now.”
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levisgirll · 3 years
Note
hi mina! i'm back again to make a request for you because you write so wonderfully i can't-! it's okay if you don't want to write it tho :D
may i ask for some prince jean headcanons/scenario? maybe something like the reader is his maid or modist, and he's kinda in love :D (this is just an idea, feel free to modify, i trust in your magical writing skills!)
sorry for this messy request and thanks! take breaks and care sweetie <3
𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 (𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐔)
text: omg HII ANTI <3 I’m glad ur back with another request and I would happily write this for you cutie c; thank you for also finding my work nice ahh this really makes me happy that someone out there likes my writing and ideas djkjsk 🥺❤️❤️ okay but this is such a cute idea- its my first time writing a royal au so i hope it turned out okay and u liked it :,) make sure to also take care of yourself too bae 😌✨ okay I decided to make the reader a strong willed bodyguard instead of a maid cause I had some ideas for that instead so I hope that's alright 😭
synopsis: y/n has started to work for the kirstein royal family and due to their many great skills, abilities, attention to detail, and great self defense training, y/n was hired and trusted to be prince jean’s personal bodyguard! They have always admired prince jean and how handsome he is, later did they know not only y/n is developing feelings for jean but so does he, and he falls in love with y/n instantly! Although, something happens along the way....
fluff, lil bit mention of blood/knife, royal au ♡ —
Erwin has hired you to join the Kirstein royal family army, after two years training to be a solider to defend the country against the Jaegerists which were a rebel faction that wanted Eren to be the next king instead and to create a ‘New Jaeger Empire’. Also, wanting to protect the prince, which was one of your goals. You really admired prince Jean of how affectionate, kind, honest, and straightforward he is, you wanted to stay and be loyal to him.
Everything changes though when you graduated from the military training with your friends Connie and Sasha. Erwin had suddenly made you prince Jean’s personal bodyguard. “With your great skills y/n, and how loyal and strong you are, I think you will be a perfect choice to have the role as his personal bodyguard!”
You stood there, shocked, and your eyes were wide open. “M-Me Commander?....Of course! I would be honored to!” You will finally see jean, and be by his side! The thought of that would make your cheeks go red...it’s cause you are loyal to him right?
Erwin escorted you and took you to Prince jean who you spotted was sitting on the dinner table hall. “Erwin...! Huh? Who’s that?” Jean was quick to notice your presence, and he was quite taken aback with your presence.
“Your new personal bodyguard Prince Jean. With how bad the situation is going, you never know who will come and attack you. So, Y/N here is going to be by your side and make sure they protect you. If you also ever need anything, you can ask Y/N.” Erwin patted on your back and you went forward and saluted to Jean. “A-At your service Prince Jean!”
“O-Oh...alright then, whatever.” He got up and walked past you both, leaving the dinning hall, you could have sworn you saw his cheeks went a bit red. “He is usually like this at the beginning, but he seems to like you!”
As the days passed, you and Prince Jean actually got along pretty well which made your bond stronger. He seemed to be the kind of person who wouldn't care from the outside, but you realized he cared about everyone and when it came to you...he would always ask if you are doing well. Things seemed to be fine at the moment, for now.
“Young master! You have a meeting with the chairman at Trost District soon.” You said as you were next to Jean, catching up with his pace. “Okay, let's get going then!” He gave you a grin which made you blush, as the both of you approached the carriage, he went ahead and opened the door for you! “Well, are you getting in or not?” You felt all eyes on you, and heard some gasps. ‘It should be the other way around!’ you thought as you got inside while feeling so embarrassed.
You were both alone sitting down in the carriage and you could feel Jean’s eyes all over you, “Young mas-” you were stunned when he held your hands and you looked at his eyes that was searching your gaze. “Don't call me that when we are alone....Didn’t I tell you that?” You couldn't hold it, you were a blushing mess now!
“Okay...J-Jean, why did you do that? People will get the wrong idea..” Lately, Jean has been very affectionate towards you, although you had to admit you had a crush on him, but you could never say that to him.
“So? Y/N...I don't care what others think about us, I care about what you think instead.” He started to caress your hands while still looking at your eyes, “M-Me?” He nodded, waiting for your answer but you pushed away gently and looked away. “Well, it’s my duty...to protect you and serve you.” You tried to change the subject while still looking outside the window, but....you noticed something off? Where is this carriage heading too?
“No! Y/N that’s not it...I meant I...” He came closer to you, too close to your face while he was blushing madly, you touched his chest to try and push him back a bit, and you felt his heart beat like crazy. Is he...nervous?
“Jean. Not now I-” As you tried to finish what you were trying to say, the carriage stopped suddenly which made you and Jean fall. “What the hell?” He yelled out and looked at you immediately, full of concern. “Are you okay?”
“Young master stay inside!” Before he could stop you, you open the carriage door and stepped out, while shutting it tight. You brought your sword out and examined the area and situation. ‘The carriage man is gone...we are in the woods...and I sense someone, but who?!’
“Come out, whoever you are...or perhaps you are a Jaegerist?” As soon as you said that, a sword was seen to be thrown out at you and you quickly stopped it by slashing it to hit on the other direction with your long strong sword.
“Hmph, you seem to be smart.” You head turned quick to the direction where you heard the voice. You saw a middle aged man with a tousled auburn hair “And? Who the fuck is asking?” You pointed your sword at him with a stoic expression, showing him no fear. “It’s Floch, and if you could do me a favor how about you just leave and let me deal with the Prince okay?”
You let out a chuckle, then gave him a death glare. “Make me.”
“Fuck, you are stubborn, let me just finish you off!! Don't you get it? This crappy prince doesn't deserve to be the next king to rule us!! It should be Eren!” He yelled out and brought out a knife and charged at you, you put your sword away and decide to do hand-to-hand combat on him. You took your stance and when he was near you, Y/N pushed the knife down and then quickly did the grappling technique, which took him down completely.
“Young Master! Call the headquarters for backup, we were tricked and put in a trap!” You said as you were trying to hold on to Floch, not letting him escape. “O-On it!”
“It’s quiet....too quiet no way this guy came alon-” You looked up and you saw someone charging at you with their sword, she was fast and you quickly got up and brought your sword to stop her attack for defense.
‘F-Fuck...that was close.’ You backed away and looked at the carriage, ‘He needs to be safe...’  you wondered and started to worry.
“About fucking time Mikasa!” Floch shouted out as he rubbed his hands which you held on tightly earlier. “Wait...I know you! Ackerman right? It's a privilege to meet you.” Mikasa Ackerman, she was one of the Ackerman that stood behind and did not serve the Kirstein royal family, but instead stood by Eren’s side and believed in him.
“And your Y/N, the strong bodyguard. Please step aside.” She sounded very serious and looked strong. The rumors were true, she did neglect the royal family and went with the Jaegerists rebel group.
‘Ha...who would have known this mission would be a complete disaster!’ You thought and as you were preparing to attack, until Jean came out of the carriage with his sword and pointed at them. “Don't Hurt Y/N!!”
Your eyes widened as you turned your head to look at him. “Young Master! What the hell are you doing? Don’t come out and run away!”
“B-But...” Jean stuttered and looked at you, he did not want to leave you behind and run like a coward, leaving behind....the most important person to him that he cared about the most. “No! I promised to protect you, so ru-” Being distracted by Jean, everything now seem to have stopped for you and there was a pitch silence. You looked in front of you and felt what seemed like a dagger stabbed towards your side waist, blood was dripping and the one who stabbed you was Floch!
“Floch...! Why?! That was not part of the plan!” Mikasa yelled out, and what seemed to be shocked by his action. Everything was going too quickly for you, you placed your hand on his shoulder and shoved him away which made him fall back. You gripped your waist and yelled out, “I-If it’s meant to protect the Prince...Then come at me!”
You heard lot’s of horses approaching and you finally spotted Erwin’s squad who finally came for backup. You noticed Levi by Erwin’s side and as soon as he saw you bleeding, he got provoked and got off from his horse and charged at Mikasa. “An Ackerman with an Ackerman, Hm? Traitor, let me deal with you.”
You let out a sigh, now knowing the Prince is safe and Levi and Erwin’s squad was here to help you guys out. Jean ran towards you and held on to you as you fell down on your knees “Y-Y/N!!”
“Why....Why didn’t you run away?” You said softly and trying to stay conscious, Jean quickly placed his hand on your cheek while the other arm was used to hold your body, “Cause I care about you Damnit!”
You gave him a weak smile and held on his hand that was placed on your cheek, “Did I do...my best to serve you?” Was all you could say and you slowly passed out due to the blood loss you had and you heard Jean's voice drifted slowly.
After a couple of hours have passed, you woke up what seemed to be in a hospital, and you were wrapped around bandages. You moved a bit which made you wince at the pain from your side abdomen.
“Don’t move around! You are still injured and you haven’t healed yet.” A girl with long beautiful blonde hair said, full of concern in her tone as she came closer to you and checked up on you. Her large blue eyes were examining your injury to see if the wound was closed up. “A-And you are?”
“I’m Historia! A nurse who is looking after you. Doctor Hanji told me to stay by your side until you wake up.” She said with a big smile and she looked like an angel to you.
“W-Where is the Prince! Is he okay?!” You said all worried and started to panic. “Haha, Don't worry! He is fine, thanks to you protecting him! He told me to notify him when you wake up but I think you need to rest a bit longer.”
You let out a sigh, ‘At least he is fine...but I want to see him.’ You wondered and looked outside the window to let your thoughts run around your mind as you slowly closed your eyes to rest.
“Y/N...Hey Y/N wake up.” You felt a rub against your shoulders and you opened your eyes to see Prince Jean looking down at you with a relief escaping his mouth. “I’m glad you are looking fine, but are you doing okay?”
You slowly got up which Jean held on your arm for support, “Y-Yea, thanks for stopping by...Jean.” You were blushing at how he suddenly started to caress your arm, then up your shoulders. He went in closer and gave you a tight hug around your shoulders. “Damn it! I thought I was gonna lose you today, that’s it...I'm not backing away with this anymore.” He pulled back, and was looking at your face. “J-Jean...What do you mea-”
“Y/N, I love you. I loved you ever since I first saw you coming and you were always by my side, but in a way that made me feel calm, good and I felt your warmth all the time it would make me fall for you even more everyday...Being with you feels right to me!” He stopped talking and looked away, he was clearly embarrassed on what he just said, the prince was confessing to you and he was finally saying that he was falling in love with you!
You were shocked, was he actually saying this all? Was the Prince actually confessing to you? You couldn't help yourself but smile to what he said and you finally held his hands, “I...I feel the same way too!” You let out now a big smile and tears started to form on your eyes, you felt so happy and so did he.
He looked behind to make sure the door was closed and then looked back at you who was now approaching your face closely and he started to give you a passionate kiss, you held on his hands while he was holding your face, lifting it up and he kept on kissing you. The night had a nice cold breeze and the window was slightly open which made the wind come in and that made your hair flow slowly as you both continued to kiss slowly and gently.
Jean pulled back and you both were breathing heavily, by the looks of it, you could tell you were Jean’s first kiss. He wanted to kiss you again and again, “I’m now love sick cause of you.”
The night went out so peacefully and you both enjoyed each others company while holding hands and caressing each others cheeks when talking about various topics and he went on explaining how brave and strong you were today when you stood up and fought against Floch and Mikasa. He found your confidence very attractive. He felt like a lucky man to have you by his side and he promised you that after he becomes king he would make you his.
𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 : Usually in the evenings, he would sneak into your place because he begged that he wanted to see you and stay at your place for a couple of hours to cuddle and kiss you. It was his favorite place in the world cause it was just y/n and him, alone. “Okay Jean, you have to go now!” You said blushing at how clingy Jean was towards you, hugging your waist. “Please just another 5 minutes babe, besides come on it’s just you and me tonight.” Jean would say playfully while he would give you a soft kiss on your scar that was on your waist ♥
okay but this was a really fun royal au I wrote up and I'm kinda glad how the first time I'm writing it went well! thanks anti for the request again and I hope you liked it <3 and if anyone else did please then leave a like or a reblog! it would mean a lot c:
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