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cr0g-0 · 1 year

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Hi everyone here is the second installment in the Prank au! Im sorry that mcyt g/t content has been seemingly placed to the side, i just find myself getting into other things more. I can assure you all that I will be posting a few fics in mcyt g/t but not a lot. so enjoy the prank au! Picks up from the end of the last fic so read that first! under the prank au tag tw- Dehumanization, Angst, Implied hard vore(NONE HAPPENS), arguments, implied vore

word count- 2296

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A Great Divide Between You and Me (When Did you become so cruel?) [II]

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The trip downstairs was as comfortable as it could get while, ya know…being in a slimy gut. Sure it was squishy and that provided a nice barrier to get slung around in but it was still nasty.

He wrung out his tail before leaning up against the stomach wall, listening to Tommy’s breathing and voice as he spoke so casually to his family. He closed his eyes, imagining the scene that was before Tommy.

His brother, lounging casually and reading some book about Greek mythology and drinking some of the caffeine that Techno almost always desperately needed.

Phil was probably doing a little dusting, making sure to be careful as he cleaned the living room up as to make sure he wasn’t lurking around anywhere he could get hurt. Phil always did make sure he was careful of not scaring him and it had been what-a total of three years and he still made sure to be as courteous and kind as he had the first time they had a conversation.

Those thoughts kept him grounded and feeling relatively safe for all of a few minutes. If he had been counting he was sure it would fall below the five minute mark.

He heard muffled shouts but Tommy’s were definitely the loudest since he was inside the teenager…

The words that Tommy were saying felt…felt wrong? Tommy had never said things before and yeah, he knew this whole thing was a prank and none of it was true but…

But the words stung…more like a wasp sting than a bee sting…

What Tommy was saying made him feel uncomfortable and unsafe and he felt like he was near those wasps like when he was a kid.

He felt…

Scared.

He squirmed around in the stomach, suddenly feeling so very unsafe and uncomfortable inside of the stomach.

When the muffled shouts got louder and seemingly more angry everything seemed to go so fast as he was tossed around the slimy and plush walls, letting out a surprised yelp.

What in primes name was happening?

Wilbur nearly screamed as the mush of cereal entered the stomach with him and he cringed. He thought Tommy wasn’t going to eat with him inside!

He pushed away some of the food before hearing a loud belch come from above and he shuddered. He was ok! Tommy wasn’t going to kill him…this was just a joke…

He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Alright. This was alright he was alright.

He vaguely heard a bowl slam into the table, the spoon clattering. Then shouts and more loud noises that were thankfully muffled.

“You know what fuck you Techno! I was doing you a favor!! You are making too big a deal about this!”

Tommy shrieked loudly and Wilbur covered his ears, whimpering a little before shoving the walls. “T-Tommy please quiet down an-and-“ Wilbur was cut off as he was thrown back and around.

“Don’t you shove me prick-It’s too late. The pest is gone.”

His blood turned to ice and his stomach churned. He felt sick and his mind yelled but he forced any thoughts away.

Tommy didn’t mean any of that shit he was just doing his act that was all. Techno should understand this was a prank.

Wilbur tried to get back to his feet and stabilize himself but he was once again tossed forward, crashing uncomfortably into another one of the fleshy walls in his…in his (Prison) temporary home-

His hands pressed down on the plush walls and he gagged a little cringing at the slime that coated his hands and he pushed away. Prime this place was disgusting he couldn’t wait to be let out.

Over all the commotion and barely hearing a lick of context he finally-finally heard another voice that managed to reach his ears.

A voice he had come to love.

A voice that comforted him and soothed him when he got scared or when he had a nightmare.

A voice he started calling and associating as “Dad” just last year.

“BOYS-stop fighting right now!”

——-

Phil glared at both of the arguging teenagers with venom, eyes glistening with fresh tears while he cheeks had tear tracks running down them.

Techno and Tommy immediately stopped …surprisingly…and stood straighter, looking at there father with a bare minimum of shame.

“I do not want either of you near or even in the same house as each other till tonight. Do you both understand me?”

He asked, anger seeping into his tone but Tommy could tell that none of it was directed at Techno.

All of it was directed at him.

The shorter blond crossed his arms, making sure to squeeze a little around his stomach just to get on Techno’s nerves further. He was a tad shocked when he heard a pathetic sounding yelp from his stomach but rolled his eyes.

Whatever, he needed to focus on making sure no one knew the borrower was still alive. It’d ruin everything if it kept moving and making noises like that. Thankfully no one heard it as his arms seemed to muffled it along with his clothes.

“Tommy, go grab a bag and leave my house until dinner. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” Phil asked. His voice was cold though Tommy didn’t miss the way it cracked.

Out of the corner of Tommy’s vision he could see Techno already curling his hands back into fists and he made sure to squeeze a little more. Techno’s hands tightened, knuckles turning white. Tommy ignored him before nodding at his father.

“Oh believe me I wouldn’t dream of coming back till dinner tonight. Means I can go hang out with my friends and shit.” He grinned, proving to his family even further he hadn’t cared about the borrower. All as planned.

He smirked, walking quickly past Techno who stomped after him, only being stopped by Phil who stopped him. He whispered something into his ear and that seemed to diffuse Techno a little.

He looked defeated.

He went to the charging station, grabbing his phone off the charger and his bag. “Alright! I’ll be off! Don’t miss me too much~!” He giggled before opening the door.

He waved, got nothing back and then exited out of the house, a much more sinister smile forming on his face. Oh this would be fun…

———-

This was fucking scaring him now. This was no longer Fucking funny.

Wilbur tried to keep himself stable inside the stomach, hearing his brother’s somehow off putting giggle. He…He really wasn’t liking it anymore…

The pouch he was stuck in swung side to side gently and he couldn’t help but cringe a little at some of the food Tommy had put in the fleshy pouch with him. He…He must have put it in there cause he briefly forgot Wilbur was there! Yeah-that was it.He fidgeted with his hands. He kind of wanted to stretch himself out a little more. The storage was comfortable for the most part, even if he hated the warmth and slime and mostly everything about the spongy area it wasn’t awful!...He just wanted to stretch.No other reason.Definitely not because he wanted to talk to Tommy and maybe get a moment to ask and confirm, though he wasn’t sure why he needed to do that! It was obvious Tommy was playing around…but still, just in case he wanted to ask if he was really joking.He’d rather be safer than sorry after all.

———————

Tommy walked through the neighborhood, pulling out his phone and dialing Tubbo’s number, still smiling like a child who had just been given all the candy ever.

The phone rang a few times. Then, at long last, when Tommy was ready to leave a voicemail, he picked up.

“Hey Tommy how are you today? What are you and Wil up to?” He asked. Tommy smirked, patting his stomach. “I’m great! Me and Wil aren’t doing annnny antics today. As a matter of fact, he’s comfortable. Got him a new permanent room and he’s settling in very, very well. What are you and Boo up to aside setting up for your pranks tomorrow?”

Ranboo and Tubbo did april fools a little differently than Tommy and Wilbur did. While Wilbur and him did a prank on the day of and involved every single person, Tubbo and Ranboo only did pranks the day after and only with each other.

Tubbo’s huff was heard through the speaker as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Well-“ he started “I don’t think we’re doing pranks because Ranboo is gonna be busy all day. He’s working with Niki at the bakery and he won’t have any time to prepare and I’d feel really bad if I pranked him and he couldn’t prank me back.”

Tommy continued his walk, humming along to Tubbo’s words as he kept on the cracked sidewalk to his next location. The reason he wasn’t going to Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s place was because they lived a little too far away to walk to.

He glanced around the area, pausing for just a moment as his stomach growled loudly and he pat it again. He should get something to eat and soon. He was starving.

That borrower and cereal didn’t fill him up at all. He swore that because the borrower tasted so good it should have filled him up more but oh well-he could always find another borrower.

Maybe Bad wouldn’t mind if he had just a small taste of Sk-

No. What was he thinking-Skeppy was his friend! He couldn’t even try a taste of someone else's borrower-that would be horribly rude.

“Dude, that sucks. Think you two and Niki’ll be able to come to dinner tonight though? Wilbur really wants everyone to be there for our prank. It’s going to definitely make the dinner muuuuch better.” He cackled a little. This was gonna be fucking great. If he got those three there, then the prank was going to be looooads better.

Niki and Wilbur went way back. They had started out slightly rocky, Wilbur was of course nervous during the second year when they had done that forgetting prank but Niki had been kind and went slow.

Ranboo and Tubbo had met Wilbur the same day and he had relaxed so much when Ranboo was somehow more nervous and delicate than anyone had previously thought possible.

Tubbo had been extremely polite and the chaotic energy the two shared gave Phil and Ranboo around one or two heart attacks. It had been incredibly funny until Niki and Techno had attempted to tackle Tubbo his attempt to put Wilbur on the highest shelf in the kitchen.

A shuffling noise could be heard over the speaker, shaking him from his memories. Tubbo sounded like he was searching for something around him. Papers ruffled and dishes clattered. He must be in his office or something like that.

“I’m sure we can be there! I know Wilbur doesn’t get to see boo and me all too often and I know he misses Niki’s baking so I’ll see if they can make a cake for him! I mean-they probably won’t wanna miss tonight anyway since this is the anniversary of them all meeting.”

Tubbo prattled on and on but Tommy wasn’t listening anymore. He must be talking about whatever Ranboo and Niki were baking or supposed to be baking today. That shit didn’t matter though. The important information had already been shared.

It was Niki, Ranboo and Tubbo’s anniversary of meeting Wilbur.

Wilbur, who they saw as a friend.

As a person. Not a snack.

That was the best, most exciting news he heard all day.

———-

Wilbur was…he felt awful and scared and he felt more uncomfortable each word and step his…

The brunet shook his head a little, the stomach gurgling and pressing in on him much to his discomfort.

“T-Tommy…? Can you please let me out?” He let out in a weak voice, pushing at the walls to try and get more space before he felt a hand on the outside of his hell pat at where he was situated, his smugness practically emanating from his surroundings and from Tommy’s voice.

Why the hell was Tommy being like this!? Of course it was a prank and it was supposed to be like Tommy was a dickhead who hated him, sure but…

But if that was the case then why the fuck was this feeling so real? He hated that it felt so fucking real and he felt like it wasn’t an act.

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach at the thought of it not being an act. That it was actually real. Three years of bonding and brotherly friendship thrown in the trash so Tommy could have nothing but a quick snack.

Fresh tears flooded his vision as his mind began to blur and fuzz up everything as it all suddenly sunk in again.

Tommy didn’t care about him. He just liked the idea of what he could do with him. Of what he was doing with him right now.

What if it was the same with Techno? And-And Phil? What if everyone hated him? Wanted to do what Tommy had beaten them to doing?!

Oh prime oh prime oh prime he was a goner-

He began hyperventilating, trying to stabilize himself in the stomach that was perfectly content making him more distressed.

His ears only caught one last thing that made his blood curdle and his body freeze.

“Alright see you tonight Tub’s! I gotta go though I just got to Dream’s place.”

#the prank #prank au #mcyt g/t #mcyt vore #tw vore #tw vore mention #tiny!wilbur #tiny!skeppy #giant!tubbo #giant!techno #giant!phil #giant!dream #giant!tommy #giant!ranboo #giant!niki #smog writes

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anonthenullifier · 1 year

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I'd love for you to write something where Vision is kidnapped and could get out but just wants to be the damsel in distress and be rescued.

(i have a picture in my mind where the kidnappers call wanda for like a ransom or something and then shes just like sweetie wtf its too early in the morning for this and vision is like but I like seeing you being badass *puppy dog eyes*)

I haven’t been active on this site in forever, but I do enjoy this prompt and needed a break from all the angst I’ve been writing lately. Thanks for sending it, hope you enjoy! You can also find this on AO3 in my Brevity of Love series.

————-

A rrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr comes from the night stand. Half-asleep and desiring to be fully asleep again, Wanda fumbles around until she can silence the vibrating phone. Victorious, she rolls onto her other side and drifts back to sleep.

Rrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr. Wanda closes her eyes tighter, trying to ignore it. Rrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr. Option 2 then, “Vizh…” Usually, especially if she asks, her insomniac husband will at least turn the phone off or take it with him when it’s being this offensive. Rrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr. Groaning loud enough she knows he can hear her annoyance, Wanda flops back over to grab the phone and answer with a fed up, “What?”

On the other end is a voice that sounds like it’s either using a modulator or is going through a tunnel. “We have your husband and if you don’t bring five million to—“

“Ha. Ha.” Wanda hangs up and shoves the phone deep beneath her pillow to muffle any other pranksters. “Vizh,” she scootches over, tossing her arm wildly to the side where it should land somewhere on his chest. It hits the mattress. He’s probably watching tv in the living room, hence why he didn’t hear her phone or her. Wanda supposes that’s acceptable.

Rrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr. Wanda rolls all the way to Vision’s very cold side and wraps his pillow around her head. Rrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr. “Come on.” A furious cloud of scarlet retrieves the phone. “What the hell do you want?”

“Wanda Maximoff,” so the off-brand Darth Vader sounding pranksters actually have her unregistered personal number, great, she’ll have to ask Avenger’s IT people to fix that, “we have The Vision,” not a good start for them to use the emphasized The, “and if you do not bring ten million—“

“You said five last time.”

An impatient huff crackles through the phone. “Your disrespect increased it. Every hour you don’t bring the money to the coordinates we send you, it will go up by five million.”

“Sure.”

The supposed kidnapper doesn’t appreciate her flippant tone. “Fifteen million now. Bring it or find out what it’s like to be a widow, and not the cool spy kind.”

The call ends and a text message from a private number sends coordinates and fifteen dollar signs. “Vision?” Wanda calls out for him as she sits up, feet searching out the slippers he usually straightens out for her after she’s gone to sleep because he can’t stand the fact she just kicks them off when she gets in bed. But she fell asleep before his patrol was done and one slipper is upside down while the other is on its side. A slightly more concerned and louder “Vizh?” should reach him if he’s in another room. Nothing. Grabbing her robe, Wanda journeys into their living room. No lights are on, nothing has been touched since she went to bed. Odd. Too odd for her groggy brain to figure out at, she squints at their industrial wall clock, 5:15 a.m., gross.

Coffee will help, it always does.

Cup brewed and in hand, Wanda decides to do the logical action, she calls her husband. It rings five times before a newly familiar voice answers. “Time is ticking, Wanda. Bring us the money.”

A sip doesn’t provide the amount of caffeine she needs, but IV transfusions aren’t possible, she thinks. There’s a protocol for this, Vision wrote it himself, it has subsections and everything based on the relation you have to the kidnapped person. Despite him insisting, she doesn’t actually memorize every protocol, she has him for that. Okay then, what would Vision do? Ask for proof. “How am I supposed to believe you?”

Through the phone a sheepish, apologetic, “Hello, my love,” comes through. Dammit.

“See we have him,” and back to Dollar Store Darth Vader. “Bring us the money.”

Another sip of coffee and she still doesn’t feel convinced this isn’t some elaborate prank where they got a recording of him from some charity event or paparazzi video. “I want to FaceTime with him, make sure he’s not harmed.”

The call abruptly ends, Wanda glaring at the screen, trying to will it to light back up. Or maybe not, if they don’t call back it means it really is a joke. It has to be, Vision is usually pretty careful and also very skilled at escaping pretty much any situation. Or not, her screen alighting with a video call that she answers only after patting her hair down in case she’s sporting bed head. “Hello?”

There Vision is, on the screen, gagged and tied to a chair with two military-ish looking men to either side. Not real military, the type of person who shops at the military clothing store because they like to think they are the self-proclaimed army of humans or some shit or like to get the thank you for your service praise without the actual service. The type that would be stupid enough to kidnap an all powerful synthezoid married to an all powerful witch. The type that would use regular rope to tie up said synthezoid to a very normal looking folding metal chair. Something’s not quite right here.

Immediately she switches to Sokovian, “Are your powers inhibited?”

Faux military man one demands she, “Speak English,” which lets her know they won’t understand anything she says if she keeps with her plan, though it could backfire if they do have a means of hurting Vision and will do so if she doesn’t comply.

“Okay.” Compliance is sometimes the right path. “Have they hurt you?” Vision shakes his head. Twice. Answering both questions like the good captive he is. It’s no doubt in the protocol for being kidnapped, though so is escaping if you are able to and he’s still there. Which means there has to be something she’s missing. She’s established his powers are in-tact, they haven’t hurt him, what else might she need? “Can they hurt you?”

A gruff, “Of course we can,” comes from behind the screen which is contradicted by Vision’s very subtle shake of his head. “Bring us the money or else we kill him and sell him for parts.”

The call ends and Wanda takes a long sip of coffee. Before that last bit she was at least going to be civil in kicking their asses, but now they’ve crossed a line. Wanda texts back the private number. I’m bringing the money. Please just don’t hurt him. Best let them think she’s bought into their plan, it’ll make it more enjoyable to dominate them and save her husband. Before that can happen, she should change out of pajamas. ———

Wanda is ninety-nine percent certain she is supposed to bring back-up to a potential hostage situation, but she isn't because she is also ninety-nine percent sure Vision is fully capable of helping her but is, for whatever reason, playing the victim here, or so she decided after finishing her cup of coffee. So far her intel backs that up, the coordinates leading her to what seems like an old hunting cabin in the Catskills. There’s no one stationed outside, no booby traps or noticeable automatic weapons set up, and inside there are four minds, one, thankfully, is a very alive and relatively calm Vision, and the other three must be the two in the call and the one making the call. Easy enough.

I have your money. She has a duffel bag filled with towels and some canned soup for heft. There’s no way someone would have fifteen million in it, according to a quick google search she’d be lucky to fit 2.5 million in here, though someone on a random forum mentioned that if she used a military sized bag and said she had euros instead it could be more convincing, still not anywhere close to enough. Not that it matters, they were never getting any money.

Instead of texting her back, the private number calls her, voice still distorted. “You can leave the money at the door.” Because everyone knows doing that would lead to them actually releasing Vision. She’s been in enough of these situations during missions (most often with Vision on her side and not the captive) to know better.

“I want to see him with my own eyes.” Acting isn’t a strong suit of Wanda’s, at least Nat always says she’s never convincing in true undercover work, but she tries to sound distraught and weak, “I need to know he’s okay, please.”

Muffled whispers of an argument come through the phone, giving way to a, “Fine,” and then the door to the cabin opening. They’re either planning something or absolute idiots. Wanda assumes the latter.

“Thank you,” she says while stepping out of the tree line, duffel bag in one hand and phone held high in the other in the universal signal that she means no harm, even though she does.

The man that comes out of the door is dressed just like the two she saw on the video call, head-to-toe camo, a mask that covers his mouth, and an unnecessarily large gun that requires two hands to use that he idiotically points at her. “That don’t look like enough money.” His voice is very different without the modulator. Scared, as he should be.

“This is just two million, the rest is in the woods. You’ll get it once I’ve made sure he’s unharmed.”

“Open it.” This she did plan for. Yes it’s a bunch of towels and canned soup, but as she places it on the ground and he steps closer, gun still raised, she sends a wisp of scarlet into his mind, one that tells him that what he sees are stacks of crisp hundred dollar bills. “You’re a smart girl.”

He’s not wrong, but the patronizing way he says it feels gross, like she’s some docile little lamb following his directive. Wanda has to remind herself that before she attacks she has to at least connect with Vision and see what exactly is going on. “Can I see him?”

“Zip it?” The bag, or so the tip of his gun indicates. Wanda does. “Good girl. Pick it up.” Wanda inhales to keep from entering his mind now and torturing him with his worst fears and failures, and then picks it up. “Let’s go.” The muzzle of his gun presses between her shoulder blades as he ushers her inside.

“Vision!” The spoken version is that of the terrified but relieved wife. The Vision she sends into his mind is pointedly irked. It is way too damn early for this shit. You better have a really good reason.

Wanda, darling. The gag hides the boyish charm he tries to smile with, knowing it’s a key weapon against her. I did ask them to wait until after 11 a.m. so as not to disturb you.

“See, unharmed.” The gun pushes harder between her shoulder blades. “Now tell us where the rest is.”

Wanda glares at her husband. Who are these people?

Members of a domestic terrorism cell Captain Wilson and I have been investigating.

“Lady, tell us where it is or else you’ll regret it.”

They are also proponents of deeply misogynistic and antisemitic values. I thought you might get immense pleasure taking them down.

Wanda smirks at the wink Vision sends her. Don’t lie, you also like being the damsel.

Even while tied up and gagged, his tiny shrug is utterly adorable. Only when you are my rescuer.

“I said,” each word is emphasized by the thrust of a gun to her back, “where’s the rest of the money, bitch?”

The Mindstone begins to glow, Don’t. It dims, but not fully. You get everything you needed? Vision nods. Good. With an innocent smile Wanda asks, “What money?”

A new sort of intensity takes over the room, a less confident one,, the main kidnapper ordering the others to, “Check the bag.”

They do, and the sound of their perplexed, “It’s just towels and…and…chicken soup?” is so satisfying.

“No, I checked it myself.” It’s the second the gun leaves her back and their attention is solely on the duffel bag that Wanda begins to build her powers, scarlet pooling and undulating around her hands, “What did you—,” The gun rises up towards her chest, his finger on the trigger, “Don’t you—“ A crimson hand grabs the gun, Vision bending the barrel without any sign of trouble.

Wanda glares at her husband. “Get back in that chair, I’m rescuing you.”

“My apologies, force of habit,” on his way back into captivity, he does stop long enough kiss the top of her head. His “Please proceed,” mumbled through the gag he put back in place.

“Thank you, now,” Wanda wraps her powers around her entire body as she rises up, making sure her eyes are glowing as well for the full effect and then swings back to the kidnappers. They’ve gone and ruined her entire plan and zapped all enjoyment out of it, the two helpers crying on the floor and the main man is just staring despondently at the can of split pea soup rocking back and forth on its side. No matter how horrible they are, she isn’t going to kick them, figuratively or literally, while they’re already defeated. With an exasperated sigh, Wanda returns to the ground, scarlet receding back into her body. “Vizh, can you help me tie them up?”

“Of course.”

Together they loosely bind the men and move all the weapons into a pile out of reach. Vision calls Sam and S.H.I.E.L.D. who claim they will be there momentarily to take the men into custody. “Okay, what were you doing here?”

“Oh,” Vision stands next to her, hands clasped behind his back, “Sam and I have been attempting to locate the main leader of this group, so when these men,” who won’t look at them, “found me in their field office, I figured allowing them to kidnap me would not only allow let me learn more about their organization’s structure but also have a very clear crime attached that would allow us to officially interpose their plans.”

Which answers one interpretation of her question, but not the one she meant. “But why bring me?”

“Because, my darling wife, watching you be a verifiable bad ass,” a little thrill runs down her spine anytime he cusses, especially right now with the growl he adds, “is always an absolute pleasure.”

He’s so good at softening her annoyance because now she’s not even upset at the fact she’s been up since five. “Sorry to disappoint you then.”

“Pardon?” Vision snakes his arm around her waist, tugging her so they are facing each other, his eyes filled with adoration. “Your powers are not the only way to define being a bad ass here, Mrs. Maximoff,” he always whispers the Mrs. like a sultry secret between them despite the fact everyone knows they’re married. “Today you showed it through your bravery, compassion, and wit with those soup cans. I am thoroughly impressed.”

“Well, Mr. Maximoff,” and she always says it loudly, proclaiming it to the world so everyone knows, especially him, how happy she is to call him that, “the next time you want to be a damsel, just tie yourself to one of our chairs and,” Wanda traces the vibranium clasp of his cape,”we can figure out the rest.”

Vision laughs, pulling her snug against his chest, leaning down to hover his lips above hers, “Noted.”

#Ask anon #wandavision #scarlet vision #Wanda maximoff #vision #Mine

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mark-of-chrysus · 1 year

Text

It was a wonderful day in Seoul and Danny was an awful person. And if it happened that Eugene was on the receiving side of him choosing violence that day, well it was simply bad luck~

It started with him coming into Eugene's office out of nowhere with an obviously fake neon green mustache and a box of spiders, which was promptly yeeted at the president and shattered all over his desk. A sharp high-pitched scream had his men tumbling into the office before they took a look at the little black devils skittering everywhere and booked it out without another backward glance.

It took almost three hours until they finally managed to get rid of all the spiders and shards and coax the mini evil-doer down from the chandelier. The spawn of chaos that was Danny had long since escaped the building, leaving behind only his fluffy green mustache attached to a cardboard cutout of one of their female streamers.

Eugene was displeased but chalked it up as a one-off thing, a sort of petty revenge from a man who could do nothing more to him. Oh, how wrong he was.

After the spiders came the baby crocodiles with lightsabers strapped to their backs. That was an ordeal that left the teen president quite paranoid since it had taken place in his personal apartment.

The third attempt wasn't stopped by his quadrupled security nor their new fancy gear. After all, Daniel was a one-man army, stupid electric fences and radars were no match for the ungodly amount of caffeine and pure spite that fueled his revenge. Judging by the screams and colorful curses, Eugene and him were on the same page.

Another terrorizing attempt successfully completed, Danny pulled out his list and checked another item off. Unfortunately, despite being useful for the drip, his makeshift batman mask was a bit hard to see through, so he had to take it off to read the next item on the list.

"Hmmm, okay, let's see... Spiders? Check. Baby alligators with light sabers? Check. Possessed Michael Jackson Animatronics? Check. I think I have time for one more before the loop ends...let's see..."

ghosts of all the bugs he's ever killed crawling on his skin? Nah, too tame.

waking up at a furry convention? I think the loop will reset before I have time to wait for this year's furry convention.

injecting him with truth serum before a fancy gala? Too much political drama, and too little chaos.

Daniel paused at the last one, a shark-like smirk overcoming his features.

"This...Heh...This is going to be good...Hehehehe MUAHAHAHHA-"

"Can you knock it off!" His neighbor reinforced his words by knocking on their shared wall rather forcefully.

"Sorry!" Came the boy's sheepish reply.

Even evil masterminds have to be mindful of their manners when committing atrocities, he nodded to himself before returning to the task at hand with an impish smile. He set out to gather his army.

The next day at 9 AM sharp the Worker's main building was invaded by an army of angry middle-aged women, armed with various household appliances, all claiming that the young businessman had seduced their daughters.

"He promised to marry my Lia!" A lady wielding a portable vacuum cleaner shouted indignantly at the poor receptionist, underlining each word with a menacing thump of her weapon onto the counter.

"He already proposed to my daughter!" Another woman chimed in waving a mighty frying pan with a murderous expression.

"Mine's pregnant with his baby!" Came the enraged shouting of another.

"My-"

"He-"

The crowd erupted into outrage, screaming even louder than before and banging onto the walls and floor while trying to speak over one another. Another outrageous comment, another wave of shouting and banging, until the whole street and every employee in the building had stopped to watch the chaos.

Daniel's muffled giggles were abruptly cut off when he felt the telltale tug on his soul that came with every reset.

"No wait, I didn't get to see the aftermath!" He whined, but to no avail.

"At least I get to try out the rest of my ideas in the next loop." He shrugged, downing the remaining chips in the bag.

#lookism #time loop #lookism manhwa #webtoon lookism #eugene lookism #daniel park #baby crocodiles with lightsabers

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doebese · 1 year

Note

Prompt: A chubby, monitor-tanned deer girl is approaching double digit hours entranced in a grinding session in the MMO she's been fixated on while mindlessly grazing through the substantial pile of fast food & drinks she spread across her desk in preparation for the long haul -- growing more greasy, bloated and stuck in her chair as the minutes roll by. (Optional)

Eventually she realizes -- right in the middle of a big fight she needs to heal in -- rocking back and forth isn't helping curb the bathroom break she's been procrastinating the past few hours anymore.

Sometimes gaming sessions go a little long. Four, five, six, seven hours go by and you finally realize how long you've been gaming, and you finally get up to go stretch and get some sunshine or some rest. However, not everyone has the same amount of self-control, or is quite so proactive in their own lives. Some of them are more than willing to spend most of their days parked in front of a monitor, especially when it comes to MMOs. World of Rune Knights, Everscape, Guild Fantasy, Lord of the Scrolls - all of which have been more than capable of dominating people's lives.

Including one deer. A deer perched in a double wide, pink gaming chair that she was still filling and, as of late, overfilling, had been there for 19 hours and counting. Eyes glazed over and pudgy fingers tapping rapidly at the keyboard as she mutters to her guild over voice chat. Accompanying her comms is the sound of munching and eating, almost incessant, nonstop eating and grazing through the entire 19 hour stretch. Lots of fast food delivery, chips, cookies, snack cakes, and abhorrent amounts of soda. Grease, sugar, and carbs galore. It was no surprise she was practically widening with every hour that she spent in front of her PC. Each grease-filled bite only caused her guts to gurgle more and more. She did her best to mute her mic when the inevitable rumble of gas escapes out of her backside, muffled by the cushions of the chair. The more sugar and grease and junk she shoves down her gullet only caused them to be louder and more frequent as her distressed digestive system voices its disdain for her poor diet.

It was no concern for her at the moment. What mattered was getting through these raids. Saddlebag rolls of her flabby hips ooze through the arms of the chair as her ass widens. Her chair even starts to creak, but she's lucky enough that her microphone doesn't pick it up. What does get comments is her heavy breathing, the obese deer's idle breathing a bit too loud from just how fat she is... and how much fatter she's getting.

When her guild finally gets to the ultimate raid that they had been working towards, the culmination of all her hours with her fat, dimpled ass smothering her chair. It was her duty to keep her raid group healed up, and she was damn good at it, too. Her eyes hyperfocused, especially after slamming down two energy drinks back to back. Though, the torrent of caffeine, sugar, grease all had their own effect outside of her own weight. Her belly burbles and gurgles, the noises growing louder and wetter as the raid progresses. In the middle of a bite, the feeling deep in her guts grows a bit tighter, the sensation accompanied by another muffled fart that she almost couldn't mute.

It'll be fine.

Another hour passes, this sensation only growing worse. As well as her current gas problem. Muting her mic becomes an increasing worry, and it was hard to focus when the tightness growing in her guts. She knew she would need to get to the bathroom soon, but she had something to focus on! Just a little bit longer, she told herself. Just a little bit longer. Another cramp from her stomach had her stop in her tracks in-game. Through her headset, she can hear:

Where's my fucking heals? Hello, healer?! IM GONNA DIE, IM GONNA DIE, HEALER COME ON

But she couldn't wait anymore. She also couldn't focus on muting herself anymore. Her entire raid group could hear the gurgling and churning, the bouts of gas into her chair, and the frantic muttering under her breath about getting to the bathroom.

It won't be fine.

She starts to haul herself out of her chair, only to find out her fat ass is firmly wedged into the arms.

Uwuuuwrrrrhhp... fuck...

#slob #bathroom mention #fatfur

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velveteen-faunus · 3 years

Text

Guys you don't understand how excited I am that we might actually see Velvet & Co. again,,,

Like I'm imagining a blue light coming closer through the sandstorm and then Velvet emerges with one of her weapon summons and takes a ravager down before it can pick someone up and fly away with them.

#*muffled Caffeine in the distance getting louder*#// ooc #rwby spoilers

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boxdyeblonde · 3 years

Text

A Night Off

A/N: This may have a part 2 (and possibly 3??), but this is another chapter from the fic i decided to dissect. Honestly this chapter/blurb is really mild in general, mostly just the interactions of Javi, Steve, and reader, and also yearning/pining lol

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, harassment, (extremely mild) violence

Word Count: 3,122

(also, @dindjarin-mandalorian heres another!)

part 1 || part 2

A weird noise filled the room. It was blaring, yet muffled, and it was far from comforting. You turned your head, looking around for the noise as it became louder.

Your eyes shot open. Fuck. It was your alarm. “Shit,” you muttered, getting out of bed and starting to race around your apartment. Throwing on your pantsuit in record time and grabbing a banana off the counter, you hopped in your car and sped to work. Walking in, a few minutes late, you hurried over to your desk. “Tough morning?” Steve asked, looking at you, coffee pot in hand as he pours some into his cup. You nodded. “Want some?” He gestures the pot towards you. “No. Thanks, though,” you huff out, getting your desk somewhat organized and straightening out your shirt. You pull the energy drink out of your purse and crack it open, tilting it towards Steve with a grin. “I’ve got my own source of caffeine right here.” “Healthy,” you hear the sarcasm dripping off the words as you turn your head towards Javier. Snorting, you take a swig of your drink. “You’re one to talk.” A small smirk graces your lips and a light chuckle escapes him. He shrugs. Steve makes his way back over to the two of you, where your three desks has been pushed together. They both had been here longer than you, although Steve was fairly new as well, and your desk had been added to the end of their mega-desk. You smiled to yourself. The three of you had fallen in step with each other almost effortlessly. Granted, Javier was often grumpy, Steve could have a short fuse sometimes, and you weren’t always an angel yourself. But the three of you worked well together. A few hours of paperwork and phone calls later, you took a small break, watching as Javier held the phone between his shoulder and his ear. Annoyance radiated off of him and you chuckled to yourself before filling yourself a cup of water and making your way back over to the desks. The phone Javi had been holding was returned to its machine, and you looked over to him. He shook his head; Another pointless call leading to nothing. A sigh sounded from Steve. “Since we have nothing to prepare for tomorrow, how about we get some drinks tonight?” Steve asks, looking at the two of you for an answer. It was a Friday night, and you had no plans for the next day that you could think of, besides maybe laundry. “Sure,” you mused. “I guess,” Javier offered begrudgingly. A small chuckle left both you and Steve as the two of you made eye contact. Silently, you both came to the same conclusion; Stubborn. “Great.” Steve claims, clasping his hands together, a grin making its way across his face before returning to the paperwork on his desk again. Javier pulls out his pack of cigarettes and takes one from the carton. You carefully observe him as he places it between his lips and lights it. He seems to notice your eyes on him and tilts his head towards you, gesturing with the carton. “Want one?” He asks. You shake your head in response. “No thanks.” Not right now, you think to yourself. You had been trying to limit yourself to no more than one cigarette in a day. It was an extremely easy thing to fall back on, especially with the stress of your job. And you knew, if you were having drinks later, that you probably would want one, and wouldn’t have the willpower or inhibition to hold back then. “Are you trying to get her addicted to cigarettes too?” Steve asked, “You’ve seen how she is with her energy drinks.” You rolled your eyes. “Energy drinks are one of the best things invented in the past ten years,” you shoot back, “It’s hard to get caffeine when you don’t like coffee, and tea just doesn’t do it sometimes, okay?” Steve raises his arms in defense. “Alright, alright… Guess I won’t offer you coffee anymore,” He says as you remember his offer this morning, a small smile gracing your lips. You look over at Javier and notice that his cigarette is almost gone. “Shit, Peña, you need to take it easy, its barely been two minutes since you lit that,” you say, raising an eyebrow at him. You hated how you could be so

motherly sometimes, but it was always in good intentions. He shrugged at you for the second time that day before turning back to the pile of paperwork in front of him. The end of your shift could not come fast enough. Racing though paperwork was beginning to hurt your eyes, and you were just looking for an excuse to let go a little, for once. The restlessness you felt was not solely limited to you. As you glanced around the room, you noticed how everyone shifted anxiously, chatter rising in the office. You look up at your partners and noticed Steve nodding off. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty? You still gonna be able to get drinks with us tonight?” You ask, a smirk gracing you lips as you. Javi chuckles as Steve lets out a small groan. “I’m fine,” Steve grumbled. “I’ve had a pre-drinking nap,” a tired grin fell upon his face, “Now I’m good to go.” “Good, because I’m not carrying your ass home again, Murphy,” Javi groused. Your eyebrow raised and you looked between the two of them. “Again?” You questioned, you lips stretching into a mischievous grin. The last hour of your shift dragged on agonizingly slow. When it finally ended, the three of you made your way out to the embassy parking lot. “Did you walk here today?” Steve asked, not seeing your car in the, now mostly empty lot. “It wouldn’t start again,” you said with a shrug. “You’ve got to get it fixed,” Javi says, “You can’t just walk to and from the embassy, especially at night.” You rolled your eyes. “I know, Javier, its not like I asked my car to have problems, but I was running late and the both of you had already left.” “Well let me drive you home then,” he offers, nodding towards his car. You nod back. “I’m gonna pick up Connie from work, drinks at eight?” Steve asks. The two of you agree, waving goodbye as you hop into the passenger side of his car. It smells like old cigarettes and ‘ocean breeze’ air freshener. You chuckled at the poor attempt to mask the smell of cigarettes. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as an ‘Ocean Breeze’ guy,” you say with a chuckle, a smirk spreading across your lips. “You shut it,” he says, a grin on his lips as he looks over at you. “Buckle up, I want to be able to lay down for a bit before I have to drag yours or Murphy’s drunk ass home tonight.” Rolling your eyes, you click your seat-belt and make your way home. “Thanks for the ride, Jav.” “Any time, honeybunch.” You scrunched your nose at him in offense to the nickname then chuckled lightly. The two of you parted ways once you reached your apartment, his waiting just a few doors down the hall. "See you later," you offer. He responds with a short 'Yup' before walking in his door and shutting you behind him. — The bar wasn’t too crowded for once; The four of you had managed to grab seats up at the bar, and you waved a brief hello to the bartender. The two of you were on a first name basis by now, and when he addressed you directly, a slightly surprised look graced both Pena’s and Murphy’s faces. You weren’t much for the small talk that the other three made as you all hastily sipped on your drinks. You were sat next to Steve and Javier was on the other side of Connie, currently engaged in a conversation with her. Leaning over, Steve asks you, “Come here often?” You roll your eyes at the joke. “You must come here enough for the bartender to greet you by name.” “I was a regular for a while when I first moved down here.” You shrugged. “Been a little too busy lately.” “I’m not judgin’,” Steve mused. Connie beckoned Steve's attention and you turned yours back to your drink, sighing in an attempt to relax yourself. The next time you looked over to the rest of the group, you could see how close Steve and Connie were now leaning into each other. One nudge from someone and they would be making out. And, next to them was Javier, in a conversation with a very attractive woman. You could tell he was putting on his usual moves—the way he leaned against the bar, the tilt of his head, the hand on his hip. A flash of jealousy ripped through you, your stomach

flipping in response. It wasn’t a first, but it was certainly more intense than before. Finishing your drink, you stood before mouthing ‘bathroom’ at a questioning looking Connie. While you made your way to the bathrooms, a man stopped you. “Eres muy hermosa. ¿Puedo invitarte una copa?” (You're very beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?) “Gracias, pero…” You were unsure of how to respond. Hell, a free drink was a free drink. But you did not want this man getting the wrong idea. (Thanks, but....) “¿Pero…?” He questioned, moving closer to you, his hand landing lightly on your bicep. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. (But...?) “Pero…Yo solo necesito ir al baño.” Shit. This was not a strong excuse to get away— but you were going to try anyway. You tried to move past him but his grip tightened on your arm. (But ... I just need to go to the bathroom.) “Vamos chica,” He started, leaning in towards you. Your fist balled up, you didn’t want to make a scene but you were willing to throw a few punches if you had to. (Come on, girly) “Lo siento, no puedo…” You avoided any reasoning and wrenched your arm out of his grip and brushed past him, walking towards the bathrooms. A hand on your wrist yanked you back around. (I'm sorry, I can't...) “¿Cuál es el problema, cariño? ¿No puede un hombre comprarle un trago a una mujer bonita?” (What is the problem, honey? Can't a man buy a pretty woman a drink?) “Déjame ir.” (Let me go.) “No seas tan bromista.” Your blood boiled at this. Your hand meeting his nose before you could even register what you were doing. (Don't be such a tease.) A couple heads turned as he cried out in pain, stumbling back and holding his face. “¡Puta!” (Bitch!) The bar tender came over to the two of you, standing protectively beside you. “Creo que es hora de que te vayas,” he said, facing the man. (I think it's time for you to go) “¡Vete a la mierda!” The man said, before grumbling and staggering out of the place. (Fuck you!) “Gracias, Miguel,” You said, turning towards the bartender. (Thanks, Miguel) “Cualquier momento,” He smiled. “¿Estás bien?” (Anytime. Are you okay?) “Sí.” You nodded. (Yes.) Javier had made his way over to you, and you could see Steve and Connie were turned towards you with a concerned look on your face. “¿Qué pasa?” Javi said, looking between the two of you, concern marring his face. (What's up?) You shook your head. “Estoy bien,” you turned to Miguel, “Gracias, de nuevo. Te dejaré volver al trabajo.” You offered a smile of thanks as he nodded, beginning to back away. (I'm okay. Thanks again. I'll let you go back to work.) “Intenta no empezar más peleas esta noche, ¿de acuerdo?” You laughed and shook your head as he made his was back over to the bar. (Try not to start any more fights tonight, okay?) “What happened?” Javi inquired as soon as Miguel was gone. “Javi, I said I’m fine. He just wasn’t backing off so…” You shrugged and grabbed your hand, rubbing over your knuckles. “That was quite the punch,” Javi said, a grin slipping across his face. You could feel your cheeks get slightly hot. “Remind me not to get on your bad side,” he added with a chuckle. You couldn’t help but laugh too. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna hit the bathroom like I originally intended.” He nodded in response. Not only did you desperately have to pee by this point, but your knuckles were starting to throb after the initial adrenaline had worn off. After going to the bathroom and washing your hands, you let the cold water of the faucet grace over your hands. It provided some relief, but was ultimately disappointing. When you had made your way back to the bar, plopping down next to Steve, you saw that Javier had now moved next to you, letting Connie and Steve have their own space. “I’ll buy your next one,” Javier offered. “You don’t have to—“ You started. “You won a bar fight, that deserves a celebration.” “I don’t know if I’d call it a fight, and I definitely don’t want to celebrate that.” “Then how about I buy you one as

someone who is impressed.” “You’re not gonna give this up, are you?” “Never, sweet cheeks.” “Call me that again and you’ll be next, Peña.” A grin split across your face. “Noted,” he smiled back, flagging down Miguel for a drink and a bag of ice. The two of you made a little small talk, but spent a lot of the time downing your drinks. The pain in your hand was starting to fade as a result of both the ice and the alcohol. Before you had realized, you were quite inebriated. You weren't sloppy drunk, but your filter was starting to come off. “Oh shut up, Peña,” you defended, “Leia didn’t put up with bullshit and she was hot. I bet you’re going to say Han Solo was your favorite.” “So what if he is?” Javi puffs out defensively. “I knew it,” you say, grinning “I like Luke,” Steve chimes in. Connie must have gone to the bathroom because she was nowhere to be seen. “You would like Luke,” you said with a chuckle. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, his hand landing on his chest in mock-hurt. The three of you laughed. When Connie returned, she and Steve decided to take off for the night, leaving you and Peña to finish your drinks. “Think they’ll still be going when we get back?” You quipped. Surprise flashed onto Javi’s features, slightly taken aback. “They were all over each other, Javi, don’t look so surprised.” “I just wasn’t expecting you to say anything about it,” he replied. “I’m not a child, Javier. Besides, I’m surprised they kept it so mild here.” You loved Steve and Connie, but sometimes their PDA was extreme, making it uncomfy for anyone in the room. You always tended to be more private with you affections, if you had any at all, so PDA was foreign to you. Javi shrugged. “At least they love each other,” he stated, the words coming out with a jealous edge to them. You raised your eyebrow at him. “Who hurt you?” You teased. He snorted in response, “More like who did I hurt?” “Ah yes, Bogotá’s heartbreaker, Javier Peña…” You noticed his shoulders tense up as he polished off his drink. “Oh, come on, Javi, we’ve all broken a heart or two in our lives, no need to fixate on it.” You polished off your drink. “You saw that guy earlier, I broke his heart and his nose.” You cracked the tension Javier was holding as a genuine laugh escaped him. The two of you sat there in a short, comfortable silence. “You got nice lips,” you say, reaching up to poke Javi’s bottom lip. God, the alcohol was really getting to you. You scolded yourself internally for a split second but quickly forgot your filter again. “No wonder you’re a heartbreaker,” you slur out, giving Javi a lopsided grin. He tenses up at those words, face turning pink. “Alright, that’s it,” he says, shaking his head, “Let’s get you home, and stop calling me a heartbreaker!” You giggled in response. It was the drunk leading the drunker, as Javier led you back to the apartment complex. “I’ve never kissed a guy with a mustache before,” you say, laughing at the thought. Javi shook his head, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” He asks raising an eyebrow at you. You shrug and offer a sly smile, reaching into your cross body bag for a smoke. You light it and take a few drags before offering it his way. He obliges and takes a few puffs himself. You watched his lips wrap around the filter of the cigarette, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. And, before you could stop yourself, you mind jumped to the thought of his lips on yours, and on other parts of your skin. You blushed and quickly looked away, gesturing for him to pass the cigarette back to you. The two of you walked home, or stumbled home, rather. Javier had pulled you into his side, under the guise of “to keep you from running off”. With his arm wrapped around your waist—hand resting in a gentle yet firm manner on your side—your head only seemed to get cloudier. And, you’ll admit, some of it had to do with the mixture of the cigarettes with the drinks you’d had, but another part of you knew it was

something deep down— something you’d pushed away in an attempt to spare yourself. Walking up the stairs to your apartment, he walked you to your door. His apartment was just down the hall, but he could be a gentleman sometimes, and you supposed that this was one of those times. “Do you need anything?” He asked. You shook your head, a small smile falling across your face. “No, I’ll be fine.” “Okay, goodnight then, dollface.” You scrunched your nose at the nickname. “Goodnight, Javier,” you said softly, before pressing a kiss to his cheek and letting yourself into your apartment. “Thanks for walking me home,” you added with a smile. “Anytime. Don’t forget to ice your hand again, okay?” You nodded back and watched as he turned towards his door. You shut your door and sighed. You may be drunk, but you knew well enough that you were falling hard for this man. And that thought terrified you.

#javier peña x reader #javi x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal fic #reader insert

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rat-father · 3 years

Text

Had to build up some confidence but finally decided to write some scp whump <3 well d-class whump more specifically

for my whumpers who aren't in the scp community : scp 012 for more context

Tagging; @sideblogformindtrash

-- tw;; blood mention / unintentional self harm, blood loss, passing out, lab whump, multiple whumpees, panic, mild implied dissociation / derealisation, implied previous child abuse, temporary whumpee turned caretaker, miscommunication, multiple whumpers / caretakers --

„I said that I was cold, not that I wanted to cuddle.“ Vivek complained.

„Well, this is what my dad would do in the winter when it got really cold. We would sleep in the same bed and share our body heat to keep us warm,“ Sakari said. „And considering the fact that you're hugging me back, I don't think you're against it.“

He huffed, chin resting on top of their head as they hid in the crook of his neck. Their hair was still damp from the shower, smelling mildly of cheap shampoo. „I guess it does help,“ he begrudgingly grumbled.

„See!“

„Doesn't mean I like it! And don't you dare say that I do.“

Sakari's laugh got muffled by the fabric of his shirt. A mix of feelings stormed inside their brain, feeling that everything went by too fast those 3 short days. From the invitation with promise of money, to the pick up in the lone street, the pain of fresh ink burning letters into their skin, and now laying in bed with a murderer. Ultimately, their thoughts kept bringing them back to their dad, sick on the streets with nothing to help. It was stupid accepting such a sketchy thing, 30 days of work for 50k, it was too good to be true. But what other choice did they have?

A hiccuped sob escaped them, accompanied by silent tears.

„I miss him,“ they admitted, more to themselves then the prisoner next to them.

He hummed sympathetically. „Homesickness is something you'll get over.“ He was quiet for a couple seconds, quickly adding. „Maybe 'home' isn't the best word, uh.“

They gave a small smile. „I get what you mean.“

„If they take you for testing, then,“ Vivek inhaled deeply. „You don't have my permission to die.“

„Wasn't planning to, but I'll keep it in mind.“

~-~

Vivek attempted to focus on the words coming from the blabbering prisoner sitting in front of him. He was more interested in whatever he was going on about than the mushy food they expected him to eat. It was better quality then other prisons he'd been to at least, and didn't taste like salted cardboard. He couldn't ignore the other's foot constantly tapping against the ground, leg twitching in sync. He looked like he had to much sugar and caffeine for breakfast, words rolling off his tongue non stop while making wild gestures with his hands. Vivek didn't even know his name, he hadn't bothered introducing himself before starting his rant.

„Were you zoning out just then, Vi?“ 83' chuckled.

83' didn't care to give his name either, but he was distinct enough to recognize even without proper name. Significantly older then everyone else, hair whiter then his skin and surprisingly fluid in his movements. He wondered how his muscles still worked so well. His voice was gentle, albeit croaky.

Vivek glanced at the others, deep in conversation. „Yeah. Don't care for what he's saying.“ He leaned back, reading the numbers on the shirt of the guy in front him. 6499.

83' clapped him on his back. „He is a talkative young man for sure. My son had ADHD. He also used to talk for what felt like hours on end sometimes.“

He nodded along, mind drifting back to Sakari. They certainly enjoyed starting conversations as well. He remembered seeing them talk to minimum 4 different people before the introduction speech.

„You don't have my permission to die.“ His own words echoed in his head, replaying like a broken record. Those words meant nothing beyond the surface, it wouldn't stop them from getting killed in this place. Permission to die was stupid. He might as well pretend to put a spell on them to make then invincible, that would be about as useful.

~-~

Sakari's heart pounded in their chest, deafening the voice attempting to reach their ears. Worry and dread knotted together in their stomach, confusion blanking their mind of rational thought. Their stayed fixated on the paper in front of them, stepping forward without a choice. It was harder to breath. Humidity around them heating their body. They felt awfully aware of their own existence, yet distant from the world. It was one blur, except for the urge to finish the song. That one. That song. The song and dance they played. The one their dad played. Pain seared through them as he hit them, as blood trickled down. Clotted blood running down their arm. Seeping in their fingernails, burning through paper like acid. Acid he spat as he insulted them, cutting deeper inside. Pounding got louder to the beat. It was a joke he was. A small joke. A small note on the page. The face they saw, they closed their eyes. The skulls were nice. The bunnies weren't prevalent. Speedy bunnies running, hitching their breath, invading their lungs. Those unwritten notes, unwritten until end of time. Their legs felt weak under them, fountains of water rolling down them. Written welcoming warmth.

~-~

Vivek held back a sigh hearing the metal door open once more. He sat up in his bed, expecting to see another guard there to take him. He nearly jumped in relief instead seeing Sakari walk in, clutching their lower arm. They meekly smiled at him, sitting down next to him. They curled up on their side as he moved to give them more space. Their feet were inches away from his leg, digging into the hard mattress.

„Are you okay?“ He asked. A stupid question, he thought to himself, the answer was pretty clear.

„Could be better,“ they mumbled, thumb absentmindedly rubbing over their arm.

„What happened? You look like you're about to pass out.“

„Lost a bit of blood is all. Wouldn't be an issue if I had eaten beforehand. But alas.“

„Let me see,“ He didn't wait for them to react, pulling their arm away from their chest. He rolled up their sleeve, inspecting the bloodied bandage wrapped around them. They sat up, wincing at the grip.

„What did they do?“

„Would you believe me if I said I did it to myself?“

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He shook his head. „You wouldn't do that.“

„You haven't known me for that long, I very well could be someone to do that,“ Sakari paused. „But you're right, I wouldn't do it. I'm not entirely sure what happened. I do remember waking up in some infirmary, and getting a cookie.“

„A.. Cookie?“

„Yeah! And apple juice. That was good. Turns out you pass out faster from blood loss if you haven't eaten for hours.“ They laughed.

Vivek sat appalled, staring at them with wide eyes. „You nearly died and you just.. Don't care?“

„I'm not dead, am I? After all,“ they leaned forward. „I don't have your permission to. So what's the point in worrying about something that could've happened, but didn't?“

He rolled his eyes. „Alright. Fair point. I guess I'm just worried about you,“ he mumbled quietly.

„You? Worried about me?“

„Shut the fuck up.“

His words cut them deeper then the wound, flinching before they could stop it. They silently climbed out the bed to move up to their own. He called after them, grabbing them by their sleeve to hold them in place.

„What's wrong now? I wasn't being serious!“

Sakari glared at him through the corner of their eye. He groaned.

„I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you were sensitive.“

He caught a glimpse of their teary eyes as they shook their head. They pulled themselves out his grasp, entering the small bathroom off to the side. He stood in place, baffled by what happened. Reluctantly he jumped back onto the bed, crossing his arms. The shower turned on, steaming water filling the empty silence for the rest of the night.

#whump #multiple whumpees #whumpee turned caretaker #dissociation tw #tw blood #lab whump #captivity whump #tw self harm #scp #scp whump #excuse my bad writing #I've literally never written anything scp related before #and I'm nervous :')#havent been this nervous since my first whump post #Sakari's panic is based on what goes on in my head when I'm panicking #just incoherent thoughts and rambles that mix together in an attempt to distract myself #I was slightly panicking while writing that part #yay for fear of failure and judgement #d-class antics

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Text

Only Time Makes It Human 2

As promised, here I am with part two, hehe this is looooong and I'm really really proud of it 👉🏻👈🏻 part one here

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: college!au, angst, fluff, many smooches in this chapter I hope you enjoy

Warnings: mentions of cheating, smoking and Zeke being a little shit

Cobblestone streets and modern renovated buildings bathed in tiny multi colored Christmas lights decorated almost every side of Trost with Christmas creeping around the corner. Petra's eyes were gleaming golden as they landed on every store window, the smile on her face refused to fade. Her footing only became faster as they approached the turn to the familiar coffee shop.

Her cuffed up jeans swayed as she flickered her feet to the pedestral, expectedly catching Levi's attention, but not for the reason she'd like to. Today, Petra seemed too bright and bubbly to take notice of any puddle of water that was left behind from last evening's brief snow storm. Everytime Levi managed to open his mouth, in hopes of scolding her to prevent her from getting her feet wet she seemed to skillfully sway herself out of danger, leaving him with his mouth slightly parted while his unspoken words took a roote from the tip is his tongue back to his brain.

"Come on Levi! We're almost there!" Petra said enthusiastically.

Levi only managed to click his tongue in response. With a head that was begging to burst and hips that burned in soreness and superstitial scratches inside his sweatpants he couldn't possibly bring himself to catch up on Petra's enthusiasm. He even caught himself wondering how Petra was in such a good mood; as if she wasn't mixing any existing drink along with Hange last night.

His head was swamping him, drowning him with trillions of new questions with every passing second. It was merely impossible for him to ignore his point of view of last night's events. His mind was not even allowing him to take a breather, to enjoy a soul mending cup of hot tea before he could come up with any believable assumption as to how exactly he ended up in the position he woke up in.

As he sternly walked ahead behind his bubbly partner, his heart protested in his chest everytime he set his eyes on Petra's auburn hair. His stomach, much in a horrid condition as well threatened him to spill the alcohol poisoned insides it was welding; every aspect of his sore, hungover body deemed him unable to allow him to carry on.

Nontheless, as they took the inevitable turn the all too familiar coffee shop stood only a few meters away from him as he paced a few more steps, clutching his stomach along with each tap of his feet on the ground. Petra shot him a knowing glare before she set her hands on the vast metallic knob, a loving half smile lingered it's way across her full pinkish cheeks.

Winter time didn't suit Petra, she knew that as much as the next person. Despite the fact that the saturated rosy hue on her cheeks and nose made her look unbelievably sweet, her caramel like persona and choice of aesthetic screamed spring from miles away. It was a miracle that she could manage to get through wintertime somehow stylish and warm. With her lilac puffer jacket zipped up over her mouth and her wide leg jeans cuffed perfectly in order for her butterfly patterned socks to peak from her creamy Converse, she felt somehow confident enough that this could be a regular casual look for her.

However, with the holidays approaching in a week's time she knew she would have much more liberty to her clothing choices. She shot another warm look at Levi again, never loosing her small smile as she painted the picture of the two of them near Erwin's fireplace on Christmas day in her head.

Had it not been for his body pushing him over the edge of guilt be probably would have left his heart warm up by the small affectionate gesture.

Petra's attention seemed to deviate away from him for a few, mere seconds, with an ultimate goal to find a nice comfortable booth to sit in. Upon her eyes falling to the left she spotted one that looked decent, if not, the best booth in the cafe. Plenty of today's minimal sunlight was gathered on the spot; at the side there was a waitress, silently scrubbing the surface of the table with force, a tray with used cups and plates balancing perfectly on her other hand.

Amazing spot and recently cleaned? Levi's prayers must have been heard today.

She resended the fact that Levi would be too grumpy to let himself be bathed in light; with a grip of her hand around his wrist she pulled him towards the booth in fast movements. She couldn't have anyone take the perfect stand on her favorite cafe and plus, it would do good to both her and Levi to warm up under the nice morning light.

Petra loosened her puffer jacket off her frame, as silently as she could master; she knew by looking at Levi's face that he was in pain. It was unusual if him to get that drunk, she knew, but he had been particularly grumpy and almost too generous with his drink the previous night.

Not that Petra couldn't suspect the reason as to why Levi had managed to go to such extend. Her mind had been fast to put the pieces together when she saw you approaching their group and even faster to acknowledge that you seemed to ignore Levi and her completely. She had seen the effort and pain in your somewhat unfocused eyes every time you threw a small glance at them, she had seen the way Levi's face would fall with every passing second as your greeting to him never came and she wasn't one to judge.

When deciding to go after Levi after he had just broken up with you she knew she had to accept that maybe he wouldn't be able to recover from his past relationship that early as to get in one with her. Hange had warned her about it, her friends had warned her about it, but with her caramel sunshine personality and quick smart wits she had found her self in a promising position to Levi's future. In addition, they were having fun, joyous moments together, their linking had soon turned into what seemed like a blooming relationship.

"So." Petra beamed and shook her thoughts off her head, extending her hands patiently waiting for Levi to respond to the action by tingling his fingers through hers. "What's today's tea?"

Getting comfortable in her seat wasn't hard. The faux leathery material of the booth rubbed on her buttocks but with her jeans muffling most of the sound though she let it fall deaf in her ears. Still, her hands sat welcomingly extended on the table, her fingers occasionally motioning Levi to take a good grab at them to which he never seemed to pay attention. He seemed to distracted and anxious, too deviated of the world around him. But still Petra remained beaming, patient.

"Today." Levi sighed, burying his head between his palms, rubbing along his eyebrows with his thumbs. "Today I'll have coffee."

"Oh it's one of those days?" Despite not wanting to be too generous with her bubbliness to the point where she could irritate the man, Petra chose to simply lower her voice in understanding.

"Turkish, make it double and bitter."

Only on rare occasions did Levi drink coffee. He didn't despise the taste as much as warm lager though, what got him cringing with coffee was that he'd be moody and sad all day afterwards. But today sure had been an exception. No amount of painkillers would work for his head if he didn't get a sufficient amount of caffeine in his body. And since he already was in a shitty mood, how could coffee make it any worse.

With Petra out of sight for a few moments he was for the first time today, left alone with his thoughts. As his head throbbed memories roared their way to every corner of his brain, making his eyes squint. Anxiety would creep in and out as he thought of leaving you in his apartment confused and all alone, supposing you'd know what to do.

How could you know what to do?

In that moment leaving with Petra had seemed as the only possible thing for him to do; he couldn't expose you to her, for all that was worth you shouldn't have been there in the first place. But now? Thinking about it made him sick to the stomach. You were equally confused as lost in the moment and he had left you alone after spitting his anger for himself towards you, he made a mental note that a little self control couldn't harm him the next time he had to deal with promiscuous situation.

Most importantly though, he was facing an irrational inner conflict. He wasn't one to jump to impulsive decisions, but he wasn't one to be unfaithful either; his actions sat acute on his chest, sending dry gulps down his throat.

Petra arrived with two drinks in her hands before he had time to process his thoughts further. Sitting her self on the booth again she passed him the small white cup, the strong aroma of Turkish coffee hitting him immediately upon the action.

His chest tensed as he finally felt comfortable to shift outside of his jacket. The guilt inside him was tripping, lathering his stomach in vibrations and spending hot waves throughout his body. Suddenly, he couldn't bare to look across the table in Petra's direction.

She was sipping tenderly on her hot cup of chocolate cappuccino, her upper lip curled up in a sweetheart manner on the rim of the cup as she ogled at him with a feathery soft expression plastered across her face.

Though he loathed to be put in such position by his own self, the decision in the back of his mind seemed like the only rational one. As the time passed by and his coffee sat in the small cup, still as ever, his thoughts only roared louder. Was what he was thinking the right thing to do or was he just jumping into another heartbreak?

There was a sudden hunger eating away his insides, a need to see you and sit down to talk about whatever had happened last night. His heart was pounding at the thought of sitting across from you under a softer, humane setting, with your eyes starting into his. Maybe you could linger your hand into his, in the way Petra had prompted him to do so before and maybe he'd be able to somehow come up with particular words to solve the tention between the two of you.

But supposing that could ever be the case, that prompt left no room for Petra by his side.

"Maybe we should take a break."

The words left his mouth before he could manage to put an alt to his thoughts.

Without realizing, his eyes were now wide, starring deep into Petra's hazel ones. With shaky hands he grabbed his cup, deciding now that it was time to wet his dry mouth.

"No." Petra blinked her eyes erratically into Levi's, taken aback as she was.

It hit her like a truck.

One particular thing had struck Petra, back in the day when watching Mean Girls as a coming of age teen for the first time. The way Regina was slammed by the school bus was raw and unforgiving, perfectly fit to the nature of the scene and surprisingly it had looked realistic enough to make Petra -or anyone else- gasp. But had she ever thought she'd be in Regina's shoes?

"No?" Levi spoke as if he was right on time to answer the question in her mind. But Petra was still struck, mouth slightly agap as she stared back at him. Her mind was traveling on way too many places at once, sending anxiety to her stomach but she managed, despite all odds, to take a deep breath. Then, another.

"What's gotten into you Levi?" She asked.

"Last night was," he paused, averting his eyes with guilt.

Suddenly, Petra knew. She didn't have to try and guess what he was despairately trying to mutter. The evidence was everywhere, but she had deliberately chose to close her eyes. She should have known ever since last night when Levi left without informing no one. She squinted her eyes and furrowed her brows, by clenching her fists hard enough so that her nails were digging into her palms her knuckles turned white.

It was mostly his appearance that gave him away, more so than his behavior. When it was most likely for Levi to be unusually grumpy on many days, it wasn't like him to dress so randomly. His woolen black turtleneck didn't exactly match his sweatpants and his leather jacket. It wasn't like him to make such matches between his clothes, not even when he was in a hurry. In addition, she could see the marks behind his right ear, something he might have had no idea about, but she was going to spare him of the embarrassment.

"No, we're not breaking up."

It wasn't like her to mouth such statement; in fact, Petra would never on her right mind prevent someone from breaking up with her. She had seen it happening one too many times. Of course human relationships were made to fall apart at some point but her luck, especially when it came to romance, had never been kind.

She had been kind to everyone instead.

Whether people liked it or not that was her. Kind and considerate too much for her own good. She couldn't help that she was attracted to mysterious looking men with issues that would stand in her way of happiness; Levi was a tangible example. As much as she would like to mark her territory around him, she was aware he didn't belong to her. He had unbeknownst to him made sure to show on different occasions, whether it was by staring at you from afar for a lite too long or by finding her self being offered to wear your spare clothes that lived still in his apartment.

Maybe that was what was breaking her heart, urging her in turn to refuse his departure from her life. She didn't know why she shushed him in such way. Was it that her heart would tear in two if she heard an actual confirmation to her thoughts fall off the tip of his tongue? Most probably.

"I don't mind." She cut him off the moment she saw him opening his mouth to speak. "I'll help you get through this, I wouldn't abandon you for a slip up."

...

"(Y/n)! Where have you been we've been worried sick!"

The moment you set your collapsing feet inside the campus Sasha's eyes fell on your form, desperately shooting you simultaneous glares of terror and relief. The brunette practically run to your direction; with her feet stomping on the now discolored, moist grass that covered the majority of the campus yard she marched ambiguously. A worriedly frowned Eren who tried his best to contain his messy hair from getting in his eyes as he run, followed asuit.

"Jeez, why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?" Sasha inquired, her voice loud as it was rang through your throbbing head, lingering in any possible hurting crevice. "Are you alright!?"

"Sas, don't scream, my head is about to explode." You muttered with watery eyes, begging your self to ignore Sasha's and Eren's puzzled faces.

"You reek of alcohol and sweat!" Eren exclaimed. "Shit. Where did you stay the night?"

"Beats me, Eren, I could have slept at a bench for all I know," you exhaled below a tainted breath.

At the sight of Eren's hard, unforgiving gaze, you could feel your heart speeding up inside your chest, the small vital organ clenched on your lungs, preventing them from processing air normally. Your chest burned in anxiety and uncertainty, there wasn't much time for you to come up with any excuse of your nighttime where abouts, you knew that much, and Eren or Sasha weren't going to straight up digest any profound lie you could come up with on the spot.

"Where did you wake up though?" Eren inquired sternly, yet his voice wasn't exactly authoritative as he waited for your answer.

"Outside my apartment door, I really don't remember anything up to that though."

"Don't scare us like that!" Sasha playfully punched your shoulder as she spoke with worried eyes. Her expression though quickly changed comically into fright as she finally scanned you up and down. "Just! Where is your jacket? It's freezing! Are you crazy?"

"I left it at that house yesterday. And my keys were in it." You muttered, averting your gaze away from Sasha.

"Stay here, I have a spare jacket in my bag, I'll go get it from Connie."

You nodded in response ignoring the fact that Sasha was already running away on her tracks upon the words leaving her lips. Quickly, you noticed as the expression of disapproval deformed off Eren's face, his lips curling upwards into into a soft smug.

He leaned close to you, bringing his face to the crook of your neck tilting his chin upwards so that his lips were almost brushing against your earlobe.

"I sure did leave you a nice mark yesterday huh? Don't flaunt it like that people will get jealous that im with you." A chuckle escaped him as he placed a quick kiss at the side of your neck. Eren's words were slowly shivering their way through your spine raising every single hair on your body.

When you realised what he was referring to your eyes widened, the tender spot of skin on your nape he had planted a kiss on burned in spreading hot blotches. Your stomach growled in protest to your feelings, threatening to spill once again as anxiety tied the organ in a numbing knot.

You shot a puzzled look at Eren -or rather at his back- but you weren't sure for what exactly. Your head was spinning, processing his spoken words unevenly in despairate efforts to put the pieces together. Was he aknowledging that you were together or was he sassing you over hickies he hadn't been the one to make?

And as oblivious as ever he only shot you a wide ear to ear grin. The cold winter air blew his long bangs to all directions across his face, his eyes squinting in happiness as he pulled back from your neck placing his palms over your shoulders. He didn't really seem like he even knew whether the marks on your neck were made by him.

"You know, maybe we should go out next Saturday alright?" He batted his eyes on you once again "No labels, just us buying Christmas gifts. Maybe Zeke could come as well."

Ah yes, Zeke. As if your problems weren't big enough already while you had to deal with the fact that you were most probably ruining Levi's life again with yesterday's actions, you also had to tolerate Christmas shopping with Eren and Zeke. When the fact that Eren would avoid the two of you being alone together in any date-like scenario was a given it was only on rare occasions your so proud and self proclaimed wingman stuck along with you.

In the back of your head you could always think about Levi and how much he disliked that you would sometimes hang out with Zeke, especially due to the fact that the two of you shared a sculpture class.

But why exactly were you thinking about that now?

Nevertheless you needed to stop your mind from running back to Levi for only a moment. The way he had abandoned you in his apartment all alone was cruel enough and as you looked at Eren, worrying your button lip between your front teeth, you contemplated on whether you deserved it.

You had gotten up on your wobbly feet only to maniacally search for your clothes all over his floor. Your jacket, long forgotten in his car to which of course you didn't have access, held your apartment keys. You had opted to just dress up with the clothes you had and walk the short distance to the campus; what could have possibly happened in a ten minute walk? You couldn't freeze your arms off in such a short period of time.

Admittedly, you had taken numerous walks without a jacket after midnight during wintertime, but the freezing morning breeze of December in Trost was something you wished you had never underestimated.

If you could, you would have Sasha slap you for not borrowing one of Levi's jackets but in your last hungover braincell's defense, you didn't want to cause him any more trouble. Of course you'd put him in enough trouble when you'd ask him for your jacket and keys, you couldn't possibly imagine to have to give him back a piece of clothing you had burrowed without asking.

You were positive he had come to hate you enough that he could set any cloth you wore on fire. Was he going to do the same to the bed covers, you wondered.

Naturally, your thoughts were cut short as Sasha approached you with a hooded sweater in her hands. As the brunette whined, out of breath you finally awknowledged Eren again; his hand was wrapped around your shoulders, providing momentarily warmth as he worriedly stared at your shivering jaw.

"You must be so cold." Sasha mouthed as she wrapped her own arms over Eren's around you. "I'm sorry I didn't have a spare jacket snd, Connie didn't either but Reiner did, he gave me this and he said he'd search for your jacket at their frat alright?"

You simply nodded, slightly closing your eyes in acceptance of her gesture. Your own frozen arms came to wrap around her waist as you pulled her close to you. "Thank you baby."

"Don't mention it. Reiner also gave me a jersey, they're both fleece, you should be warm enough."

Eren seemed to shift uncomfortably as you ripped Reiner's black hoodie off Sasha's grip, despairately speeding up your movements to wear the warmth providing piece of clothing over your form. His lips puckered momentarily as he pinched his nose in what looked like annoyance from the corner of your eye. Quickly though you caught his face falling into a smug expression once again as he eyed you.

"I'll say thanks to Reiner for you." Eren said, clicking his tongue while pinching his nose once again.

Once Eren strolled away, Sasha widened her eyes dropping her mouth in an unbelievable manner of disbelief. She sucked the underside of her mouth, propping her lower lip even further to exaggerate the comical effect of her expression. Not that you were one to judge, you stared back at her with the same look on your face as well, puzzled much by Eren's mixed signals. The two of you continued to stare back and forth at eachother for a few silent moments as your temples throbbed, despairate to process what had just happened.

"Is Eren jealous?" Sasha finally uttered, finally putting the situation into words. "What the actual fuck?"

"You know he told me to go Christmas shopping with him? As in going out?" Sasha's mouth formed into an 'o' as she stared at you, her eyes lingering at your lips awaiting for your next sentence. "And what do you know, then he even said no strings attached and that he'd invite Zeke as well."

"And now he's jealous of Reiner giving you his clothes?" Sasha furrowed her brows at this, earning a reluctant nod in response by you.

"I need to have a smoke, or else I can't process this." You sighed, avoiding Sasha's disapproving gaze at your statement. As your eyes scanned around the campus you spotted Erwin and Mike sat on a kiosk. A mischievous grin of relief creeped onto your face as you thought of how Erwin would never run low on tobacco. "Wanna go say hi to Erwin and Mike?"

Sasha simply nodded, opting to keep her lecture about the hazardous nature of smoking to herself. This would have to wait for another time; she knew better than to go against her hungover friends. Connie especially was a pain in the ass to deal with. Everyone knew that much thus compared to him, your need to have a smoke felt almost irrelevant.

"Erwin!" You rolled your eyes, your face squinting in pain as you plopped yourself next to the blond, your head quickly coming to rest on his shoulder "Tell me you've got much needed tobacco and filters."

"Sure I... Uh.. I do."

"Great," you sighed "please roll me one."

Even if you missed the way everyone's eyes widened at your sudden presence, Sasha certainly didn't. With a quick, shy look at Erwin, she apologetically averted her gaze to everyone in the kiosk; she nervously cleared her throat next, attempting to get your attention as subtly as possible yet, you still sat with your eyes closed, leaning on Erwin's shoulder. In a way Sasha felt sorry for what she was about to do, but you'd be thanking her forever once you had gotten yourself out of the situation.

"Hi Levi, Petra."

"Oi"

"Hi Sasha!"

Your eyes shot open in terror as you heard the exchange of words. Your head almost immediately shot up from Erwin's shoulder; of course, as Sasha had warned you with her greeting, Levi and Petra stood before you, eyeing you up and down in judgemental looks. Automatically you placed your fingers at the nape of your neck, ready to mingle with the skin there in an attempt to cover up the bruised skin from Petra, not thinking about whether your nervous actions easily gave you away.

"Uh... Hey you guys!" You spoke. The need to to bite your tongue off and swallow it so you could never mouth anything as awkward ever again hit you almost instantly. Awestruck by your awkwardness Levi and Petra only nodded in response, causing a long sigh to escape your lips.

You seriously didn't know why you had to go through this. All you wanted was to actually process last night in a quiet friendly environment and then maybe you'd attempt to think about Eren's weirdly awaken jealously. But as Levi's steely orbs burned holes in your form, wide enough to indicate he could might as well be seeing someone come back from the dead, you disposed of the fantasy. Of course he had to occupy your mind I'm such way that your heart burned brighter than your hungover headache.

No one around you could possibly know what the look you shared with Levi meant. As far as everyone was concerned last night hadn't happened, not in their timeline at least, but for you and the onyx haired man it was an inescapable reality. It was almost telepathic, the way you knew what he was trying to tell you with his steely gaze, as if he was answering the questions inside your head.

We need to talk about last night.

Nervously you averted your gaze to Erwin's hands and they brought the rolled cigarette to your lips, wordlessly asking for you to sip the edge of the rolling paper with some saliva from the tip of your tongue to activate the glue. Once he handed the cigarette to you, you shot up, putting weight on your now week knees. With one hand you put the cigarette between your lips, you took a drag as you carefully lit it up with the lighter Erwin handed you. You waved everyone goodbye, rubbing your palm on Mike's back, earning a small smile from the blond.

Great, now there was no way you'd ask for your jacket back. You'd have someone unlock your door for you. So much for saving yourself from such embarrassment.

...

Saturday came before you could even have time to decide what gift you wanted to get everybody. As per usual, you'd be spending Christmas at Erwin's; it had became a tradition in your group even before you and Levi had hit it off as a couple. Erwin was living all alone in a huge, very non college student budget-y apartment. His father had bought it for him before passing away and you as his dear friend group, had made an oath to never leave him lonely on Christmas.

Except for last year you'd usually you'd have dinner at Erwin's. Levi had always been strict on spending at least half of the day with his mother, therefore Erwin had always had Christmas scheduled. You'd visit him on the 23rd, making all preparations for Christmas dinner and Levi's cake, so that you wouldn't have much work when the big day would finally come.

Naturally, you'd open gifts at Erwin's, therefore you always dropped your presents for the group at his place when you'd buy them, although today you didn't think you'd be able to do so.

While you were almost done with buying presents, Zeke and Eren were spending way too much time pestering each other for what gift they'd buy to their father; at first they had set their eyes on an expensive silver watch. You had to admit it was a beautiful accessory, the way it shone under the bright lighting of the store's window seemed magnificent and just like you had told Eren, you approved of such gift for Grisha, one hundred percent.

And right about then, Zeke has decided to stir things up. You knew he was jealous of Eren's and Grisha's father and son relationship, but you had never guessed it could go to such mischievous extend on the blond's behalf. With a sour expression and a poison dripping mouth Zeke had expresed his utter disgust over the watch, claiming that this was not the right gift for their father and that they should settle for something more 'doctor-like'.

Their bickering had went on for about an hour before you had decided to excuse yourself from the jewelry store. Now, you stood sat on one of the comfortable futuristic benches in between the stores, scrolling maniacally through Instagram. It was such a slow Saturday and if you were to say you were bored it would only be an understatement; almost nobody had posted anything interesting enough to catch your attention, no new music was announced by your favorite artists, hell you even missed people posting a bunch of stories with their Christmas trees.

You almost ignored the tall, dark frame approaching you as you were deeply lost into your phone. Destiny's Child - 8 Days to Christmas repeatedly blasted in your ears as you continued to scroll, still ignorant to the figure beside you.

Your own little Christmas bubble world was cut absurdly as a hand came to wave between you and your phone screen. Your heart skipped a beat as you jumped on your spot, taken aback by the sudden action. Wide eyed and looking to your left you finally came to identify the man who had startled you.

Now that could be a cure to your boredom. Even if it wasn't the best possible option.

"Kenny?" You exhaled enthusiastically slipping your hand between your locks of (h/c) hair, reaching for the small black ear buds. "I'm so sorry I was wearing my headphones. What are you doing here?"

"Ahh just buying Kuchel's gift. You got me thinking you were trying to ignore me runt."

"I'd never, be-" You playfully punched his shoulder as he eyed you, a smirk appearing in his face quicker than you thought it would.

"Besides I'm your favorite uncle, right?" He spoke, completing your sentence. A deep sigh escaped his mouth as he rubbed his cold hands together, hoping to create enough friction to warm up his fingertips. "How long have you been waiting for the midget runt?"

You turned your dropping face away from his direction as the words fell off his mouth. Your heart gradually started throbbing inside your chest, the tight knot of anxiety was forming and coming undone in fragments of seconds as you stared at the white granite under your feet. Kenny must had taken a while to realise the chance of aura around you, a steady chuckle came out of him as he commented on Levi's meticulous routine of picking gifts for his friends.

"And why the long face?" Finally, he turned his attention to you "Did you have a fight?"

"Not exactly, we haven't fought in a long time." You admitted.

Kenny's gray eyes worried over you before squinting in another smiling manner. His palm came to playfully slap your upper back as he left out another loud chuckle of amusement. "I'm sure you two don't have many things to fight about. Kuchel is so enamored by that, how do you even manage with this brat (y/n)?"

"I don't... Not anymore at least."

Kenny's chuckle was cut short absurdly by your soft, mumbling voice. There was no way he hadn't heard what you had just said, he was just struggling to comprehend the context of your words. You claiming you weren't dealing with him anymore meant you weren't together anymore and Levi had deliberately kept this secret from him and Kuchel.

"Wait, you're not together? When did that happen?"

"Kenny" you paused, deciding to set your eyes onto him all while still avoiding his gaze. "It's almost been a year."

"What? Wait, why?"

"Levi and I, how do I put this in the shortest way possible, Kenny..." You sighed, bringing a finger to the side of your lips and biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to concentrate on your summing up skills. "He became distant, too engrossed with studying and shut himself off and I guess I just, I felt excited for something else. Levi felt excited for something else too."

That could make up for a quick summary, it could be enough to make Kenny understand the quick narration of you point of view. It was unnecessary to go into further details, such as how you had came closer with Eren throughout your group, or how Zeke had tried his best to convince you that he was right on the fact that Levi was growing more distant with each passing day, every time you'd open up to him about your problems.

More over, you couldn't possibly go into the lengths as to how quickly Levi had hit it off with Petra, proving Zeke's assumptions on the fact that maybe Levi was just tired of you.

"Shit. I'm sorry, if it helps, care to gossip on Levi's new item?" Kenny shifted his hands inside the pockets of his camel colored trench coat, rubbing circles on his upper thighs through the material of the pockets. "I'm dying to to know to what he moved on."

"Kenny! I don't do that!" You bit back and lowered your gaze as you instantly second guessed your statement. You contemplated on whether talking lowly about Petra is the right thing or not to do; she hadn't done anything wrong to you, she was just dating someone she liked while you were turning into their bitter, regretful ex. You couldn't possibly have the right to be jealous of her. But as you looked at Kenny's disapproving expression, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you were. "But I guess I'll show her to you!"

With a double tap your screen came to life, the familiar unlocking page bubbling as it urged you to fill your chosen password. Your fingers ran quickly on the familiar numbers; you've typed them one too many times already. You bit your lip in newfound anxiety as you awkwardly scrolled your social media folder, your fingers found the fuchsia camera icon automatically. With another tap your white Instagram homepage popped up, accommodating a picture of Mike and Nanaba's hands, each holding a carton cup. With a quick doubly tap you liked the picture and set your self the task of on swiping through the story icon features, quickly searching for Petra's familiar profile picture.

"Ah here you go." You finally spoke, breaking the silence as you found Petra's icon. Tapping on it once her newest story popped up. You set your finger on the screen again, keeping your tap locked in place to pause the flow of the story.

The picture depicted her standing before her mirror dressed in a white turtleneck layered with a powder blue plaid dress and topped with a black flap pocket woolen jacket. You could make the creative 'outfit of the day' mention on the bottom left corner, although you were unsure if Kenny cared enough about Petra's Saturday outfit. Plus, you didn't really need him to compare her sophisticated style to you.

"You know I can't really see her face, her phone is in the way."

You simply tapped over Petra's profile name as you sighed. Petra's feed appeared before your eyes, slowly loading all her highlights and posts. You gave your phone to Kenny next, deliberately choosing to look away and stay silent as he scrolled through the girls photos, curiously ogling at her for a few seconds.

"Ah runt," he spoke after sometime, his hands extending to give your phone back, "you ain't gonna stop being my favorite child, he'll come back around you know. He'll always love you, you have his heart and all that jazz."

Kenny tried his best to cut himself some slack from the awkwardness of the situation. Keyword; tried. As he sighed, his head spinner on what he could possibly say to you, he could exactly pinpoint if you needed to be reassured or comforted, or whether he was too late to be there for you.

There was something puzzling you, that was certainly written all over your face as you studied him. Your fingers were nervously mingling with eachother as you gripped on your phone, your hips shifting uncomfortably in the spot you sat. You were nervously thrusting around in your seat, that was much obvious to someone that knew you like Kenny did.

"He already did. But I'm not convinced he loves me, it's more like he has one more reason to hate me. We uhm we... You know, pfft, TMI Kenny, I'm sorry but I need to talk about this with someone."

"Shoot it!"

"We hooked up a well ago."

Oh shit, now that was new. Kenny's eyes widened in surprise as the words left your lips. His shifted himself enough to fully face you, his gray eyes worriedly meeting yours as you opened your mouth to explain. Words that were supposed to flow effortlessly ceased to exist as another, louder voice overshadowed your own.

"Zeke I swear I'll kill you if you- oh who's that (y/n)?"

You turned your head to the owner of the voice, your heart dropping the moment you met Eren's soft turquoise gaze. He stood there, clutching the small burgundy gift bag in his grip, as victorious smug adorned his features.

"Uh, finally you guys! This is Kenny Ackerman, he's," you paused, suddenly uncertain on how you should introduce Kenny to Eren and Zeke or whether you should introduce him to them at all.

"Levi's uncle." Kenny spoke, saving you from unnecessary fidgeting of information. He eyed Eren meticulously as his face slightly dropped in annoyance.

"I'm Eren Yeager, (y/n)'s friend and that's my brother, Zeke."

Eren smiled and extended his hand for a shake at Kenny's direction. Clicking his tongue, Kenny reluctantly gave his hand to the younger man before nodding knowingly in your direction. Eren didn't have to say anything else to prove Kenny he was halfheartedly trying to assert some dominance over you and although the older man tried his best to keep his laughter to himself, he got the message Eren was trying to convey.

Taking another breather to himself, Kenny picked his lips, allowing his face to fall into his usual stern expression.

"See you around (y/n)."

You laid on your couch, enthusiastically reading through a Greek epic you had burrowed from Hange a while back. Your hair dripped into the towel you had folded on the arm of the couch as you rested your head against it. You had wanted to slow down your thoughts before taking a change at blow drying your hair, there was a rage of overthinking going inside you that you refused to be left alone with.

You felt overly slow after your meeting with Kenny; the bath you had taken had done nothing to soothe down the wild nature of your thoughts, despite the fact that you had taken your time soaking in hot water and lavender oils.

The strangle fatigue you felt was feeling more indifferent with every passing second as you anxiously read bout Antigone's suicide, your heart was slowly being filled with grief as you though about her significant other, Heamon and how he could possibly react to her death. You were so enamored with the fact that Heamon was son to the king who had ordered Antigone's imprisonment that your eyes were ready to spill all the unshed tears that had gathered in the small corners of tender skin.

You set the epic down, burying your face between your palms as you let out a deep sigh. The air in the room felt heavy, you thought, thus you decided to get up from your couch and stroll around the room to reach for your hairbrush. Maybe now was the time to blow dry your head, your thoughts were completely off Kenny and Levi for the moment.

The sound of your doorbell startled you, though, making you freeze on your spot. You immediately unlocked your phone, hurriedly checking through your notifications for a sign on who it could be; it was rather unusual for someone to just visit you without having informed you about it beforehand.

Nontheless you marched over to the intercom, your finger shooting to press the metallic button to let your voice ring on the other side of the front door of your apartment building.

"It's Levi. I've got your jacket."

Panic run through you in throbbing waves. You simply stood there, feeling utterly and ridiculously puzzled with what you should do. You didn't know if you wanted to run down the front door and just grab the jacket on your own or if you just wanted to call Levi in. Grasping the situation seemed only fair, even in your panicked state you could admit you knew that much.

Your fingers immediately reached for the button underneath the one you were pressing causing a buzzing sound to ring through the intercom. You nervously opened your door and as on que, a few moments later Levi's frame emerged from the elevator doors, strolling to your direction, your black leather jacket neatly folded in his arms.

You wanted to speak, to greet him decently for once after all that time but you failed to find any prompt as to how to do that. Your mind felt at haze as you stared at him while he walked up to, the light from your apartment slowly illuminated his face more with every new step he took to its direction.

"Hey, sorry I came so suddenly, I'm on my way to the movies." He greeted, probing his head upwards to accentuate the action.

'Hey' you wanted to say, to establish some normal ground in your dynamics but still the words that left your mouth before you had enough time process what you wanted to say didn't exactly disappoint.

"Wanna come in?" The subtle look in your eyes as you fixated your orbs at his was at the very least, mesmerizing. If Levi was to describe it, he'd find himself quickly running out of sophisticatedly flavored academic words.

There was definitely a different kind of tention forming between the two of you. It was in the air, but whether it was caused by his own brain as he made the all too casual car ride to your place or by the way that you casually swayed your hair over your shoulder before prompting your head closer to him to speak up, he didn't know. All that he knew was that he was feelings his heart hammering in his chest as anxiety creeped in his stomach. The bold nature of his actions was having this profound effect on him and he'd be damned if he had to question himself one more time as to why he was in your doorstep now out of all times.

Still, your words somewhat lingered in his brain, despite almost falling deaf on his ears. His inability to pay attention to words was probably caused by his heart throbbing in his chest at witnessing this side of you.

"Sure" Levi found his mouth vomiting an answer.

You stepped aside, making room for him to entered the room as you gestured him to. Once he had walked in you closed the door behind you, your chest heaving in a despairately deep breath.

...

Did all kisses feel like that?

Your lips were soft and tender and tasting like burnt tobacco while Levi's were chapped dry and thus split, tinted in purple and tasting like dried blood. It was eeree to think about it, how it came to yours lips finding his once again or why it felt the way it did and why did it momentarily comfort you.

Your whole body was paralyzed with stress and agony; you couldn't move. The inability to speak caused by the burning guilt driven feeling inside your stomach was slowly taking a toll on how the rest of your internals liked to function. The efforts you were putting to regulate your breathing out of your nostrils were tainted and faint, as if not enough courage was laying underneath them and you hated it. You hated that your lungs were paralyzed like that under Levi's mouth on yours.

Maybe if you stopped existing or disappeared for just a moment everything would be normal when the next one came. Yet, things could never work like that and reality was always unforgiving to the actions you would decide to go for.

You still couldn't process how this had happened. One minute you were sat on your couch, angrily looking at each other as you spoke about how prohibited and dirty was what you had endulged in the previous week and the next your words had ceased to exist. His gray orbs had locked into yours, his breathing had quickened, much like yours, and your faces had been so close that your noses were almost touching.

You didn't know what had pushed you to act upon the tention in the air. Maybe it was your aching heart or Levi's eyes as they had begged you to kiss him. Now your own lips, in a similar way were begging him not to stop moving against yours.

Lost in your extravagant world of misery and heartache you didn't seem to realise that Levi's hand still hadn't left your cheek when you let out a long deep sigh escaped your mouth. Instantly though, with your brain acknowledging the moment and delving deeper into the reality of this situation, you jolted away, causing Levi to jump back on his tracks, as if he'd be electrocuted.

"Levi" you trailed off, softly mumbling the next words "I'm so sorry I did this, I should have known better."

Your heart was beyond hammering inside your chest; the cold dripping swear of anxiety had started to coat your palms and upper chest as he engulfed your lips again, this time much more gently. He gently tagged on your bottom lip, worrying it between his own lips. The mellow sounds of sucking filled the air as you tried to pull back, only to be attacked by his mouth every time.

Suddenly as you had just started melting under his hot touch on your waist, you heard what sounded as the most despicable sound that ever existed. Levi's phone buzzed in his pocket as it rang angrily, causing him to pull back from your face. The phone stopped ringing though, just before he could manage to swipe the answer button to the right, sending a huff of annoyance to leave him.

Petra's caller ID burned in his screen once again as his phone started ringing for the second time. This time, he hesitated to lick up. As he started at you apologetically his fingers trembled. He knew, eventually he would pick up the phone, judging by the time his phone read he was late to the very own screening he had decided to ask Petra to. Guilt formed in the back of his throat and he clicked his tongue to try and suck it up, even for a brief moment. With his finger on the acceptance button he turned to you again fixating his eyes at your bruised lips before he spoke.

"I have to go y/n I'm so sorry." He said and finally brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, I'm on my way, I had a mishap, I'll be there in ten, save a seat for me."

This all felt too familiar, once again you were forced into the third person's perspective, although this time you were fully aware of your intentions before and after the so called mishap.

"Listen, supposing you want this to work again we have to put an end to whatever else we have going on. I can't bear being the-"

"I know" he quickly cut you off, picking up his letter jacket from the pool it had formed around him as he hurriedly got up. "I'll call you alright? Have a good night." You blinked at him, not having enough time to utter a response as you watched him run to your door.

Your heart fell to your stomach as you stood frozen in your couch witnessing him exit your small apartment, not even bothering to look back.

You knew now that if Levi chose Petra your world was going to burn.

If you suffered along with my by reading one too many paragraphs in this chapter I'm sorry, thank you though for reading this fic in its entirety, please look forward to part 3 hehe, as always here are my tags: @ackermans-freedom-inc @sasageyowrites (my baby thank you for helping me SO much with this chapter I don't have enough words to explain how much I love you) @ladyofpandemonium @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @papinaveensbitch @alrightberries

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #snk x reader #snk imagine #levi x reader imagine #aot #attack on titan #aot season 4 #snk season 4

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

Text

The Next One’s on You 5/5

A/N: This is it my loves, the end of our tale. Thank you so much for supporting my small idea and coming back each time to read more. I have loved reading every single comment and it means the world to me that you loved this story as much as I have. Thank you.

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader

Warning: 18 + for language, violence - assault, attempted murder. Mention of abortion.

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @ghostwiththemostbitch @zannemes @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @maxlordsgf

My Masterlist

Chapter 5: Decaf Coffee

You jump at the sound of knuckles rasping sharply on the back door. No one would be knocking at the back door if they were customers. Which left you with only a few choices; your family, Giselle, or…. You slowly rise. Feet chilled against the tiled floor, as you walk closer to the door. The knocking gets more insistent as you get closer. Hand shaking you reach toward the handle and flick the lock, pulling the door open slowly. Heart pounding so hard you worry it’s going to jump out of your chest.

The alley is dark and…empty. Your heart sinks and you can faintly hear footsteps walking back toward the street. A muffled curse from far away and you clear your throat and let out a hoarse “hello?” The footsteps stop and then come pounding back on the pavement toward you. Louder and louder until a figure appears in the dark and stands in the shadows watching you. “Who are you?” you ask exhaustedly.

He steps into the light and your breath catches in your throat before your heart turns cold. “What the fuck do you want?” you hiss, lips turning down, and defenses rising.

“I come with a message for you,” Tom steps out of the shadow, “Mrs. Lord sent me this for you,” he hands out a check and you step further into the shop moving to slam the door.

“Why would that devil woman want to give me money?!”

His hand shoots out to grab the door as you move to close it and he wedges a foot to keep it ajar. “Just fucking listen to me you bitch,” he grunts as you try to shut the door. But it’s to not avail he shoves the door open and stands their panting.

“What else?! What else could she possibly want with me? She took the love of my life away, ruined our wedding, and slandered my name in front of hundreds of people!” you shout angry tears pooling in your eyes. “If she thinks she can pay me off and I will go away quietly, she is fucking crazier than I thought she is!”

“She’s wants you to get an abortion! She paid all of those people to lie for her, this shouldn’t really come as a shock. You're just the last loose end she needs tied up. Can’t have you walking around with a kid that looks just like her son.”

The blood rushes from your face and you feel cold. The audacity of this woman is unreal. You quietly reach for the outstretch check and the air from the door wafts inside chilling you to the bone. You rip it in half then again and again until the pieces fall like confetti onto the ground. You look Tom in the eyes and sigh, “You can tell her I said to fuck off.”

You’re so exhausted from today and you turn from the door. Tom doesn’t leave but instead walks into the room, you can feel him behind you as you lean down and reach for your shoes. You turn around suddenly when you hear a loud grunt and Tom falls to the floor hard, Maxwell is beating the shit out of him. His knuckles turning bloody as he lands blow after blow on Tom’s face. “Maxwell!” you scream stepping closer and in the corner of your eye you see the gun on the floor.

Fuck. Tom was going to… You grab the gun and point it towards Tom as Maxwell goes feral. “Maxwell,” you gasp as Tom loses consciousness, but he doesn’t stop, landing blow after blow. You drop to your knees next to him and place a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Maxwell, baby, you got him.” He stills under your touch breathing heavy, a sheen of sweat upon his brow. His eyes wild, one of them blackened as he turns to you.

It’s like the whole day was some awful nightmare as he runs his hands and eyes all over your body, checking for any injury. “Are you ok?” he pants pulling you into his chest.

His arms feel like the home you were so sure to have lost today and you nod. You’re tears sinking into the lapels of his jacket. “What the?” a voice asks behind you and you turn in his arms to see your father standing there looking down on the scene.

“He was going to kill her,” Maxwell’s arms tighten around you, “I heard everything…he confessed to all of it. My mother paid this fucker to kill her. He was...he was…” Maxwell tightened his grip around you to the point of discomfort, but you didn’t dare let him go.

“Watch her, I’m going to go call the police,” your father took off towards the desk in the back corner and his voice muffled as he pressed the phone between his cheek and shoulder and spoke quickly into the receiver.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Maxwell cry against your neck, “I’m so fucking sorry. I let all those people…I let her get in my head and when she brought up the baby…I…I’m so sorry.” His tears soaked the fabric of your dress as he sobbed into your neck.

You pulled away and held his cheeks, brushing away his tears, “I can’t forgive you right now,” your voice cracked on the end, “but we will talk about this. You don’t get to just walk away from me and get away with it.” He nods through blurry eyes, taking in your features.

“I can do that….I know…I know I hurt you and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I have to know, do you still love me?” The CEO behind the infomercials, the money, the press is standing before you as nothing more than a man. His insecurities shining through and blinding you. You tremble in his arms.

“You’re an idiot…” he hangs his head, “Of course I still love you. It will take a lot more than your psycho mother to take me away from you.”

His head snaps up, he surges forward and kisses you deeply holding your cheeks like they're made of precious glass. Breaking away as the sounds of sirens blare out around you, he puts his forehead against your own, “I love you, so much. I promise no one will ever take me away from you again.”

The police come barreling through the door and arrest Tom. The EMT takes you out to the ambulance and checks over your blood pressure, heart rate, and for any signs of shock. Your father stays with you while the officer takes down Maxwell’s statement, another officer taking down yours. When they leave you an EMT wraps Maxwell’s hands up and tells him to follow up with his physician.

“Did he tell you what happened?” your father asks holding you against his chest, a warm arm around you. You shake your head no and he sighs, “Well I won’t reveal too much but…I did get a good punch in on the son of a bitch.” You gasp and look up at him.

“You punched him in the face?” He smiles and nods.

“You bet your ass I did and I would do it again in a heartbeat, he hurt my little girl. No one hurts my little girl, that Tom’s a lucky bastard that I didn’t get to him first or else they would be loading him into a body bag and not an ambulance.”

You look at your father with wide eyes and go to ask, but Maxwell comes over interrupting the moment. “They said we are free to go, they need us to come down to the station in the next few days and write out our statements.”

“Sounds like a plan,” your dad turns to you, “Do you want to come back to the hotel with your mother and I?”

You look over and Maxwell who is watching you with apprehension, shaking your head no. “No, I want to go home with Maxwell. We need to talk, I don’t want to go to sleep with everything that happened today hanging over us.”

“Ok honey,” he pulls you close for another hug before glaring at Maxwell, “take care of my daughter,” he warns and Maxwell nods reaching for your hand.

You let him take it as you both watch your dad walk off. “Let’s go home,” he pulls you toward the black town car idling on the sidewalk. Opening the door himself and sliding in beside you. Jeeves looks at you and smiles before pulling away from the curb and heading home. The press are at the gates and luckily the windows are tinted and you can get safe into the house.

No one greets you when you get to the house and you feel relieved. Maxwell leads you both to the kitchen and you sit at the table in the corner. The table that held so many memories for you both and he puts on a pot of coffee. Silent as he moves around the kitchen and pulls out a plate wrapped with sandwiches. He brings both over to the table and you push the coffee away reaching for the sandwich and taking a tentative bite.

“It’s decaf,” he pushes the cup toward you again, “I remember reading once caffeine isn’t good for pregnant women.” Enveloping his own cup with his hands and lowering his gaze to the table.

You reach for the cup and feel it warm you up as you watch him. He’s putting himself through hell. His head bent down and shoulders sagged, he has the look of a man defeated, and that is not the Maxwell Lord you know. “Maxwell,” you sigh reaching for his hand, “what happened after I left?”

He clasps both hands around yours and strokes patterns over the skin. “After you...left,” he swallows, “everything fell apart. People who were silent before stepped forward saying my mother had tried to bribe them and that they told her no. I confronted her and she cracked admitting nothing aloud but everything in her eyes. When I went to leave to follow you, your father decked me in the face and told me I had better fix everything. He told me that a blind man could see how much you loved me. We left together and Jeeves refused to tell us where he took you.”

“Why?”

“When I ordered him too, he snapped at me and asked if I hadn’t already done enough. Wouldn’t even tell your father. You have more people that support and love you then you think.”

He gets very quiet and looks down again, “I failed you, baby.”

He gets up and paces around the kitchen and you watch him, letting him sort out his emotions. He moves toward the fridge and pulls out a paper cup like one from the coffee shop, bringing it over to the table and placing it in front of you.

“What’s this?” you move to grab it and open it seeing a creamy white liquid, smelling sickly sweet. “Is this...is this a latte?”

He nods, “I bought it after I left the church and I carried it around for hours while I searched for you. I...I know you can’t forgive me right now because the way I treated you today was...fucked up. But, maybe we can start over. Do you remember how we met?”

Tears swell in your eyes and your voice cracks, “You were a complete asshole...and I threw a latte in your face.” He gives you a watery chuckle.

“Well I have been a complete and total moron again, and I think I deserve a lot more than a latte thrown in my face but…”

You take the cup in your hand and open it, getting up and walking over to the sink and pouring it down the drain. Turning to him, “I forgive you. I love you. And if you ever pull some shit like that again, we are gone.” He walks over to you and drops to his knees before you. Reaching forward and tracing his hands over your barely visible bump raising your shirt, and placing his lips on your bare skin.

“I will never let anyone ever hurt you again, especially me.” He looks up into your eyes and you fall to your knees before him getting swept into his arms.

“You promise?” your voice trembles.

“I promise.”

Would you be interested in me continuing this series?

I think they need a redo wedding, maybe some pregnancy fluff, baby stuff?

Let me know and thanks for reading.

#maxwell lord #Maxwell Lord x reader #female reader #Pedro Pascal #Wonder Woman #Wonder Woman 1984 #ww84 #The next ones on you series #Autumn Writes

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alien-baby-boy · 3 years

Note

16, 5

16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed?

Light is more seductive when drunk. He's fairly seductive normally, but drunk!Light doesn't care about societal norms & will gladly get touchy with L & call them cute embarrassing petnames, subtly be dammed

examples include: baby, sweetheart, my little [blank], honey, babydoll

the blank petname can be pretty much anything, from detective to angel to brat

L tries to muffle his moans, but once he starts, he really can't stop. Light's had to gag him (consensually, of course) more than once so the task force wouldn't hear Light fucking L in their shared bedroom

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

L does. They don't fight often, but when they do, it's devastating. L doesn't sleep that much anyway, but he especially can't sleep after a fight. So, L takes the couch & they usually talk about what happened & make up in the morning. They tried the whole "don't go to bed angry" thing, but both found it easier to think logically & communicate instead of lashing out at each other after a full night's rest, some food, and caffeine.

#ask response #otp ask game #death note #l lawliet #light yagami #lawlight #top light yagami

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blu-archer · 3 years

Text

Warmth

Hi... So, It’s 00:44. I should be editing photo’s for the day a head but I did this instead. I really shouldn’t have but... it happened... (If there’s grammatical errors... this is why.. forgive me.)

Because procrastination has just kind of merged itself as a part of my very soul and essence as a human being at this point.

This is just a short thing to be honest, and its technically a ‘sick/snz’ thing, but really it felt really short and comes across as more as a comfort, small filler type thing... but it was fun to write sooooo anyway..

enjoy I guess

Caretaker: ???Jimin/Jin?? I don’t really know

Sickie: Yoongi

word count: 2568.

“Huh’ishh… snf… Huh’ihishew… huh’igxnsh!”

“You sneeze one more time and I’m sending you home.” Jin said warningly from his seat at the front desk.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, merely sniffling until he could get the chance to blow his nose. He didn’t remember the stores shelves being this dusty, but perhaps Namjoon just hadn’t had time to clean up while Yoongi had been away. He’ll have to do a deep clean once his magic has rested enough to manage it.

“I’m serious Yoon.”

“Jin. You don’t work here.” Yoongi replied dryly, not sparing the elder a glance. “and I own this business. You can’t send me home for sneezing.”

“You own half this business.” Jin corrected, clicking away at the latch on his pen as he stared through the gaps in the shelves at where Yoongi rubbed at his nose before putting up more jarred charms. “and I am married to the owner of the other half, which means I am also the owner of the other half.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“It does. You wouldn’t know because you haven’t married Jimin yet. What’s mine is Joon’s and what’s Joon’s is mine.” Jin grinned teasingly.

Yoongi knew that he was mostly joking, just twisting things to get his way, but it was still somewhat relevant in some areas. Namjin was a typical ‘we’ couple the second after Jin had gotten Namjoon to love him more than his plants, which honestly hadn’t been that difficult.

“Does that mean that Namjoon can go treat kids at the school, like you. You’re the nurse right.. does that mean Namjoon has the same qualifications?” Yoongi asked, his words laced with building congestion.

“Don’t make jokes like that. Joon would never be able to manage working with children, no matter how much he loves them.” Jin shook his head. “Poor baby would be so terrified of hurting them or something, probably wouldn’t be able to put up with half the rascals I have to deal with. Teenagers are the worst, and when it comes to creating excuses to get out of class... don’t get me started.”

Yoongi joined him by the desk, having finished most of the restocking of the shelves. It was technically supposed to be Jin’s day off from work – which usually meant that Namjoon would call in for the day off as well, but they had had a last minute call pleading for someone to come charm and heal sections of a park that had been set a light a few days prior, and well… Namjoon wasn’t going to decline that. He had even taken Taehyung with him. Hopefully nothing gets set on fire again.

But that meant that Jin had welcomed himself to lurking around the store, “helping” Yoongi with the daily routine and customers. Helping had turned into pestering very quickly.

“This is proof that it’s not true then.” Yoongi shrugged, reaching for a serviette that had come with the lunch Jin had ordered in to blow his nose.

He pointedly chose to ignore the exasperated look that flashed across Seokjin’s face.

“How’s Jimin?” Jin’s tone wasn’t as curious as the question posed. “Still sick?”

Yoongi refused to meet the witches gaze as he cleared his throat and reached for his iced coffee. It was more like watered down coffee now, but he required any form of caffeine that he could get.

“He’s still a little sick, but he’s going back to work tomorrow.” Yoongi pursed his lips as he thought back to when Jimin had told him the day before.

The hybrid had put a real fight when Yoongi had suggested to take another few days to rest. One would have thought he had told Jimin to quit or something. He understood his boyfriends need and passion to do his job, but from what Hoseok had mentioned to him, it was precisely the fact that Jimin worked too hard that got him into the mess he had been in any way. He just wanted to make sure that his boyfriend was taking enough time to recuperate.

“You don’t think that maybe… he shared?”

“What?”

“Yoongi..” Jin sighed. “Your nose is red. You’ve been coughing and sniffling all morning. You also haven’t taken off Jimin’s hoodie – which you usually do before opening because you don’t like mixing potions and other peoples’ scents over his, and don’t even try to tell me that your voice hasn’t been cracking since you entered that door.”

Yoongi looked away, taking another sip of his drink. “Could be allergies. ‘s dusty…”

Jin didn’t even have to say anything. His deadpan expression and tightly drawn lips told Yoongi enough about what the elder thought of that suggestion.

Maybe he was getting sick. After all, he and Jimin hadn’t exactly worked hard to prevent any contagion – especially after Yoongi had convinced the younger to let him be more helpful in all matters of care. It would actually make a lot of sense, but he couldn’t bring himself to want to acknowledge it. Jimin would feel so bad if he knew that he’d gotten the warlock sick, especially if it happened right before he had agreed to return from sick leave.

“I can’t go home. Jimin will feel guilty.”

“That is stupid reasoning.” Jin pulled a disapproving face. He looked at his friend, then shook his head. “I’m being serious Yoongi. You should rest now before it gets worst. We can close the shop for the day, Namjoon can continue tomorrow like he has been and Jimin would feel better knowing that you didn’t try hide this from him. You know that he will see you not telling him as some sort of annoying guilt thing. Don’t make a small thing big. He’ll probably be so happy to do whatever you young couples do now days again.”

Yoongi grimaced but didn’t waste the energy on commenting on Jin’s overly wistful words. Rather he put his mind to the customer that had just warily entered the store. He wasn’t going home. He had made up his mind and nothing Jin could say would change it.

“Kit’en?” Yoongi snuffled wetly.

Groaning and clearing his throat as he locked the front door behind him. He was about to call again when a deep, congested sneeze ripped through his throat – much louder and harsher than he liked. He really shouldn’t have stayed the full working day. He should have accepted Namjoon’s offer to have him just continue working the store for today and onwards, but if Yoongi was anything – it was stubborn. Of course he regretted it now though.

He walked into the kitchen and swallowed some of the medicine Jimin had been taking before he went to find the hybrid, who had remained silent. It was a bit odd that he hadn’t replied when Yoongi called, but it wasn’t rare enough for him to be overly concerned. Just curious…

It was when he couldn’t find Jimin in any of the rooms that his worry began to rise.

He called out again as he quickly paced through their cottage, being met by nothing but silence. He even tried to call but following the muffled ringing of Jimin’s phone lead him to their rumpled, vacant bed. In a final moment of panic, he called forth his magic, letting the icy chill of it flood throughout his body until a blast of wind shot off of him with staggering force. Usually he wouldn’t use his magic so raw, much rather preferring to have a physical object to make the effects easier to deal with, a skill that had been adapted centuries before from witches to fit a warlocks needs without the risk of magic drainage, but he didn’t stop for a moment to think. The magic had left him so abruptly that he had to lay a steadying hand on the wall while he breathed icy white breaths for the brief moment until the surged wave returned to him with just as much impact as it had left him with, causing him to break out coughing for air while the room tilted and swayed beneath his feet before returning to its previous temperature and stability.

Jimin was outside… in Yoongi’s studio?

That couldn’t be right. Jimin didn’t really go to the studio unless Yoongi was there. In fact, he was sure Jimin had told him that he didn’t like the studio space at all – something about there being too many scents.

Why would he be there now?

He took a second to catch his breath before he went on his search. His nose had just started to run, and no amount of sniffling was going to help him. His head pounded against the cold, but he ignored it as best as he could.

None of it mattered.

What mattered was that it was cold. His studio specifically was always cold to a degree, and Jimin was uncharacteristically in there.

“Love?” Yoongi called as loud as he could as soon as he passed the entrance, his voice cracking over the single word.

“ ‘oongi?”

Yoongi came to an abrupt halt just outside of the tiny, makeshift library that he stored all of his spell books in to see the familiar form of his boyfriend curled up on the oval windowsill with a blanket and pillow tucked around him as the dying sunlight painted his skin.

His hair was a mess and he swiped at his mouth and eyes languidly as a yawn broke widely across his face.

“Hey.” Jimin greeted with a warm lazy smile. “Good day?”

“It could have been better.” Yoongi answered honestly, moving into the small space so that he could wrap his arms around Jimin. The hybrid jumped at the icy feel of his skin. “I thought you didn’t like my studio.”

“It grew on me. Was the only thing that strongly smelt like you for a while, so it became more comfortable for me…Why are you so cold, what happened?”

Yoongi shrugged, his cheeks warming has he realised his actions may have been a bit impatient. There were other spells that he could have used, weaker ones that relied on words and physical additives rather than actual core magic, which would have left him with more energy and just overall less affected. He’d been unnecessarily rash.

He sunk his face into the hybrids chest, somewhat admitting defeat while forcing the younger to be pushed up tightly against the window as he was embraced. He felt fingers run through his hair and an ill-timed cough shook his entire frame. Jimin froze and Yoongi caved with two soft words. “I’m … sick.”

“Oh, baby…”

He felt Jimin card his fingers through his hair again, harder this time, letting his nails scrape lightly against the Warlock’s sculp as he held him close. Yoongi took as deep a breath as he dared. He couldn’t smell the usual spicy aroma that hung around the younger, but he melted into the bundle of warmth that was Jimin, succumbing rather easily to the uncomfortably angled yet intimate embrace.

“I’m so sorry I got you sick… we should have been more careful.”

“I’m fine.” Yoongi said, his voice muffled before he pushed away from Jimin so that he wasn’t bent in an awkward standing/leaning position any longer. “I was more worried about you, but you look better.”

“I feel better, mostly. There are still moments when I feel bad, but it’s a big.. improvement…” Jimin yawned, pulling his blanket up to smother it, then chuckled as Yoongi broke into a mirroring action, sniffling and resting lazily against his bookshelf afterwards. “We should probably head inside now. Get something in you before we go to bed.”

Jimin gradually got to his feet, stumbling a bit as he stretched before opening his blanket to properly engulf Yoongi in its warmth with him. Jimin could feel a bundle of heaviness, completely unrelated to his cold, settle in his chest as he listened to Yoongi sniffle thickly on their way back into the house – making a quick dash when they had to cross yard with the cooling breeze. The warlock had a lot to catch up on in terms of his work and this was quite obviously going to set him back a bit further.

Not that he seemed to mind.

Jimin seemed to be more stressed than his boyfriend about the matter. To compensate for resulting in getting Yoongi sick he had tried to collect a bunch of blankets and soft materials that he had scattered around the house during the day, working to make a more comfortable setting for Yoongi in their room once he had gotten the warlock to lie down there. He had successfully gathered water and at least three of the fluffiest blankets they owned before Yoongi had him trapped beneath him against the mattress.

The warlock had distracted him from his coddling after sneezing openly to the side with enough force that Jimin had reached out to steady his seated figure with concern, only to be tugged onto the bed and rolled on top of with the accompaniment of all of the blankets he’d piled on the elder moments before. He had wanted to complain, that he needed to make food for them or to get them the medicine, even if Yoongi had mentioned that he’d already taken something – or at the very least more tissues, because they’d definitely be needed those. Yet Yoongi had merely rested his cheek against Jimin’s shoulder, sniffling into the base of the hybrids neck while he wrapped his arms tightly around the dancers frame.

“Yoon… you need food…”

“ ‘need you.” Yoongi whispered lowly, yawning into Jimin’s chest. “I missed you today… just… just stay. Please.”

Jimin snuggled down, embracing the warlock as entirely as he could. Their limbs becoming a mesh between the blankets. If this was the comfort that his boyfriend needed, then who was he to protest?

Even as Yoongi drifted off to sleep, the ice that had filled his veins from earlier thawed with the warmth that bled through him by the mere presence of the Calico cat. The dying sunlight still blared down on them, but neither of them could bring themselves to care. If anything, it helped in making the pair sleepier. Jimin rubbed his nose through Yoongi hair and down over his cheek, pressing soft lips to the elders temple, then his cheek, then nose.

Yoongi squirmed and let out an amused groan, pushing Jimin away before pulling him close once more. He’d never get used to the effect that Jimin had on him. How a simple gesture made him feel as if he could wield all the magic in the world. He’d tried to explain the empowering feeling before, but he had never been able to put it into words.

“I’m sorry.” Jimin whispered, pressing a final kiss to Yoongi’s head. Although his tone had dipped into the same seriousness from before. Then in an even softer voice, he added. “Love you, Yoongi… ”

Yoongi was already half asleep, his body giving in after the events of his day, but the tender words pushed him further. He slipped into a dark content sleep, filled with that familiar warmth and spicy scent that he had grown to depend on.

He’d let out a soft sigh, barely catching Jimin’s final words of ‘rest well’ before he was completely submerged into his dreams.

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luninosity · 4 years

Text

Time for @whumptober2020 Prompt 4!

Number 4: Running Out Of Time - specific prompt: collapsed building

Er...sorry about this. Um, if it helps: Seb’s probably not hurt quite as badly as Chris’s panicked brain thinks - Chris isn’t the most reliable narrator - and he’ll be okay. Probably. With some emergency medical attention.

Warnings: serious injury? Chris being afraid Seb’s dying? in my head-canon aftermath sequel, he’ll be okay, I promise!

“Seb?” Chris hears his own voice crack. Shatter. Break right down the middle. “Sebastian?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer. No sound at all.

No. That’s not true. Groans and creaks of metal and wood. Beams and bars. The broken building’s twisted and dying all around them.

“Sebastian!” Louder this time. Hiding fear with volume. Sebastian had been beside him, a step above him, both of them on the old building’s staircase. They’d been meant to run down the steps, to be caught on camera, to escape the explosion. The special effects team had rigged it all up.

He can’t think. His ears’re ringing. If Sebastian’s answered—

“Seb? Say something!”

Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing.

Chris coughs. Tries to inhale, breathes dust, coughs again. Dry as bone.

He himself has landed in an oddly empty space, under a couple of beams that’ve landed at just the right angles for shelter. He’s hurting everywhere because he’d hit the ground hard, but he’s pretty sure nothing’s even broken, though his left hip’s screaming at him about landing on it and he’ll be limping for a while.

On his knees, he shouts Sebastian’s name again, or tries to. Coughs some more.

They’d had everything set up, he recalls—they’d been ready to run out of the building, himself and Seb being Steve and Bucky—

The earth had jumped. Shuddered. Shaken angrily.

A short quake. Barely anything. Laughable, really.

Except it hadn’t been, except the explosives had gone off early and the whole fucking building had—

And Sebastian’s not answering—

“Seb,” Chris begs. “Say something, talk to me—answer me, if you can, something, anything, fuck—come on, Seb—”

The not-quite silence swings back in and dooms the world. Chris shoves himself to his knees.

Some other noises happen, distant. On the other side of the collapse. Outside this agonizing bubble of himself and a cave of rubble and a missing Sebastian Stan, which means the missing other half of Chris’s heart, because—

Because Sebastian’s always been the other half of his heart. Hell, he’s known that for years. Sebastian Stan, sweet and mischievous and shy on first meeting but wickedly playful and adorably weird once comfortable around people, and oh Chris has thrilled to the idea of being one of those people Seb’s comfortable with over the years, knowing Seb’s grown to trust him, knowing how Sebastian loves coffee and Scottish Fold kittens and astronomy and pizza—

He’d let it become routine. Himself, wanting Seb. Seb smiling and hardworking and gulping down caffeine and diving into a character and lighting up a room. Seb maybe laughing at Chris’s jokes, sometimes; Seb maybe responding with a soft surprised smile, sometimes, when Chris touches him or says his name or hugs him at an opening night afterparty.

He’d thought they’d have time. He’d thought they’d have more years. Slow and easy, gentle and unhurried, no rush. They’d get there together, he’d hoped, and it’d been simpler just to let it all be what it was, going along.

They’re together now. Under a collapsed building and anguished metal. And Sebastian’s silent. Sebastian’s not answering. Sebastian might be—

No. Chris says it aloud, shaking, in pain. “No.”

On his knees, he fights to see through haze. More muffled noises happen; rescue efforts, probably. He tries shouting back but he’s pretty sure they can’t hear.

He crawls closer to the nearest heap of rubble. Nothing recognizable. Only broken bits of building.

He whispers, “Sebastian…”

Nothing moves or stirs, but a shape resolves itself: not Seb, but the edge of the staircase, a fractured bottom step, a shard of bannister. Chris throws himself that way. Seb had been above him on the steps—

Closer, he can see a shred of black. Bucky’s wardrobe? A boot? An ankle? A shadow? He flings himself down beside wood and marble and debris. He can’t see.

He pleads with the universe, “Sebastian—!”

Something does move, then. Fingertips. And Sebastian’s voice, weak, too weak: “…Chris?”

“I’m here! I’m here, I’m here—oh thank god, Seb, fuck, thank god, thank you—talk to me, keep talking—” A slab of building’s blocking his view of Sebastian. No, two slabs: one leaning perilously over Seb’s body, one lying on his shoulder and not letting Chris see his face.

Chris gets a hand into Sebastian’s fingers. They’re cold. This isn’t the arm with Bucky’s metal sleeve. “Seb? Talk to me, come on, you said my name, what’s up, what else, ask me anything.”

“Chris,” Sebastian says again, vaguely. “You feel warm.”

You don’t, Chris thinks. “Yeah, it’s just ’cause your hand’s kinda cold, but hey, you get cold a lot, right? You told me that once. Why you like jackets and sweaters and scarves and stuff. Um, I think I can move this one, there’s not a lot in the way, I’m gonna try, okay?”

“Okay.” Sebastian still doesn’t sound very coherent. Chris’s chest tightens.

He sizes up the chunk of apocalypse on Seb’s shoulder. Nothing’s leaning on it, so if he can shove it over that way and off the edge of the step right there—

He can. He has to take his hand out of Seb’s to use both arms, but he can.

He spins back to Sebastian, panting and triumphant. All the words in the universe die away. He can feel the impact, the numbness, the draining of blood from his face.

And blood is too appropriate, too horrible, because there’s red, there’s too much red, it’s under the back of Sebastian’s head and trickling across the sharp edge of a step, and Sebastian’s eyes’re open but his face is white, white against scarlet…

“Chris?” Sebastian coughs. Breathes, shallow and shaky. His other arm seems to be okay, oddly: lying across his stomach. The rest of the rubble blocks his hips, his legs, with voiceless compassion. Chris doesn’t know what’s hiding under there.

He whispers around clogging chunks of icy grief, “I’m here.” He puts his hand back in Sebastian’s. Kneeling beside the stairs.

“Are you…” Sebastian stops to breathe. “Okay?”

“Me? Fine. I’m fine. Not hurt. You—you don’t have to worry about me, okay? Don’t worry about anything.” He puts his other hand atop Seb’s, in his. “Just stay with me.”

“I’m here,” Sebastian murmurs. His eyes aren’t quite focused, though they try: finding Chris. “Nothing even hurts much…just sort of strange…tired…and cold…”

“Oh god,” Chris says, and has to lift a hand, to press it over his mouth. “Seb, I—I…”

“I can’t move much,” Sebastian says. “I think my leg’s stuck. My toes move, though…so that’s good.”

“Yeah…yeah, that’s…good…”

“Did everyone…” Seb’s eyebrows tug together. “The effects people…setting up…did they get out?”

“I don’t know.” He doesn’t. He can’t think. “But we’re all gonna get out, okay? They’re coming for us, they’ll find us, you can hear them, right? Those sounds? That’s people coming to rescue us, okay?”

“I can hear it…I think.” Sebastian shuts his eyes, or lets them shut. “Maybe.”

“Seb. Please. Please stay awake. Please talk to me.” He squeezes Sebastian’s limp fingers. Sebastian doesn’t react at first, but then squeezes back a fraction.

That’s a good sign. Has to be. Maybe it’s not as bad as Chris thinks. Head wounds bleed a lot, don’t they? Even minor ones? And Seb’s awake, talking, moving toes…

Is Seb awake?

“Sebastian?”

No.

“Seb!”

Sebastian’s eyes don’t open. Long eyelashes still over pale skin. More red spills vicious over cracked stair-marble.

“Seb. Sebastian. Stay with me. Stay with me, stay here—please don’t, please don’t go, please—”

The world’s a blur. Rock-dust and tears.

Chris cradles that lax hand in his. Lifts it. Kisses Seb’s fingers, frantic, tasting smudges and salt. That’s his own: water over Seb’s skin. “Please,” he says. “Please, Seb, I love you—please don’t leave me, I love you, I should’ve said—I should’ve told you—every time I thought it I should’ve told you, a fucking million times, over and over—so fucking stupid, I should’ve just tried, should’ve said—please let me say it. Please wake up and let me say it.”

He says, “Please let me try again. Please. Seb, come on, please, I’m a fucking mess here, you know you want to wake up and laugh at me for getting all fucking melodramatic here, and I totally am, you’re right, I know, so come on, just say so, just wake up and say so.”

He says, “Please, Seb, please, god, someone, please, I love you, Sebastian, I love you.”

He says, “Please just—just know I love you, I always have, I love you and I’m here, Seb, I’m right here.”

An incongruous streak of sunlight turns dust-motes to gilt, painfully gold and hovering through cracks. It brushes Sebastian’s hand on its way to the side of the room.

More sounds, more shouting, happen outside. Excited. A breakthrough.

Chris gazes at Sebastian’s face. At Sebastian’s lips, parted.

Sebastian’s lips are still a little pink, not colorless. Sebastian’s head’s turned slightly his way, beautiful even now. Sebastian’s…

…breathing.

Sebastian’s breathing. Chris can see it. Faint, not deep, but there: chest moving, up and down.

Chris’s own chest lurches. Heaves with relief. Tries to throw its own heart in there and beat alongside Seb’s, shoring up weak thumps, offering support.

He whispers, “Sebastian…”

He’s still holding Seb’s hand against his mouth. Seb’s eyelashes flutter. Then lift.

“Seb,” Chris says, mind and thoughts empty of everything but that. White and blank and overwhelmed.

“Chris?” Sebastian sounds even weaker, and confused, but alive. “I thought…you were talking…I’m sorry, I couldn’t…I can’t think…did you say…something…”

“Said a lot of things,” Chris says, lightheaded with reprieve. “It’s okay, you’re kinda tired, I’ll forgive you for not, y’know, listening…”

“But I want to.” Seb blinks at him. “Always liked that…listening to you…’m yours, you know. Anything…if you ever want me…’s always been you. For me. Just…right…sorry, I know ’m not making sense…”

“You,” Chris manages. “You are—you said—you want me, you said—it’s right—”

“Yeah.” Seb closes his eyes, making Chris’s heart teeter on a cliff’s-edge, but then opens them again. “You don’t have to…”

“I fucking love you!”

“You—” Sebastian’s eyes actually open more. “You…wait…”

“I’m fucking in love with you,” Chris announces, Chris tells him, Chris proclaims to the world and the dust motes and the slabs of debris. “I love you, Seb. And you’re not gonna fucking die, and we’re gonna—figure this out, we’ll talk about this, we’ll—I don’t know—but you’re not fucking dying and I love you and neither of us is going anywhere, got it?”

Sebastian blinks again. “…I’ll…try? Chris?”

“Yeah?” Holding on, holding Seb’s hand, hoping hard. “Yeah, go on, anything, ask me.”

“I’m scared,” Seb whispers, “it doesn’t hurt…I think maybe it should…the way you look…but I’ll try. I feel…it’s so…but I want…I want to stay.”

“Good.” Chris kisses his hand one more time, a desperate magic spell. “Then that’s that, okay? You’re here and I’m here and you’re gonna be fine.”

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“You said it…I didn’t…meant to…”

“What?” Someone’s shouting. Calling his name. More light streams in. Space opening up. Rescue arriving. People with medical training, equipment, ways to fight back against wounds and crimson streaks over stone. “Seb? Come on, Seb, what?”

Sebastian whispers, “I love you,” and keeps holding his hand, and maybe, maybe, Chris thinks. Maybe today they get a miracle. A second chance. A last-minute million-to-one reprieve. Maybe someone somewhere believes in love.

It’s not a certainty, not yet. Sebastian’s badly hurt. Chris knows he is.

But Seb’s alive and breathing and holding onto him. That’s also true: the truest piece of the world, right now.

So Chris is breathing too. Chris is alive too. And they’re together. That’s enough for the next few seconds, and the next, and the next after that, and maybe a future.

He holds onto Sebastian as help floods in. Seb loves him, and he loves Seb. And he has hope.

#evanstan #whumptober2020 #no.4 #collapsed building #fic #whump #injury tw #near death tw

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thethoughtsfromthreeam · 4 years

Text

Metal Lover

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: @zeldasayer had an ask a couple of days ago about the Mandalorian loving nipple piercings on Reader. And then suddenly this fic decided it needed to be written. So a little switch from our Agent Whiskey to the Mandalorian. Part 8 of California will be out tomorrow!

The tension between the two of them had been simmering for months, not that their actions gave away anything. Instead it was this underline sensation that ran its slim fingers down both their backs and eventually its hands were going to shove them together, whether they thought it was a good idea or not.

She stood in the kitchen of the Razor Crest, staring off into space as while waiting for the water to boil. As she leaned her hip against the counter, her brain wandered into its most frequent daydream – being taken by the Mandalorian currently sitting in the captain’s chair up in the cockpit. Seems those fingers were moving from her back to her brain. She mulled over the steamy feelings those thoughts produced until the kettle whistled.

Sighing, she pulled two cups from the cabinet and filled one with coffee and the other with tea. She desperately wanted coffee, too, but given she was feeling a little jittery after the last job and felt the lower caffeine levels would do better for her nerves. As she poured the water, the sounds of bootfalls came up behind her.

“It’s almost ready, Mando.” He hummed in response and stood in front of her, patiently waiting. Once she had mixed everything for his coffee, she pressed the cup into his hand and smiled. “I need to do some cleaning in the sleeping quarters, so feel free to stay here and relax a bit. If you’re still here when I’m done, I’ll call out as usual.”

He nodded as she took her tea and walked away. The cleaning was needed, the rough days were growing, and she just really, really wanted to lay in fresh sheets after crawling through the jungles of their most recent planet stop. At least the one the next one on the itinerary was more temperate and promised to be a little relaxing as they took a breather

She immediately dived into the work and lost herself so much in the calmness of cleaning that she didn’t hear Mando behind her. He watched silently as her strong body moved comfortably through the rooms. He smiled under his helmet when he caught her humming some little tune to herself while she danced with an armful of sheets. God, he wanted her so much he could feel himself hardening at the sight of her.

When she turned around, she caught him standing there watching. She started to laugh at her silliness and dropped the sheets on the dirty clothes pile. He loved her laugh; it was so full and seemed to come from a deep place inside of her. His smile got bigger.

“Mando, if you’re going to stand there, at least help me.” He walked over to pick up the sheets when she stopped him. “No, dance with me, silly. You cost me my dance partner.”

He paused when she asked but before he could do anything, she walked up to him and place his right hand on her hip and grasped his left hand in with her free one. She placed her one hand on his shoulder and looked up at him.

“Let’s dance.”

She started humming again and with some light pressure got him to start moving. Together, they slowly waltz through the alcove between the bedrooms. His attraction to her grew tenfold and being so close just sent his senses into overdrive. He hoped she couldn’t feel his erection not realizing that she hoped he couldn’t hear her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest.

Without her realizing it, he waltzed her backwards enough to press her against the wall and they stopped. Glancing up at his visor, she wished she could see what he was thinking. Sometimes his body language wasn’t enough for her to decode his inner thoughts.

He leaned his helmet down and touched her forehead before he spoke.

“I want you. I want you so bad.” She looked at him as her eyes darken.

“Well it’s about damn time.” She replied while yanking her hand from his and pressing it against the front of his pants. “Fuck me already and put me out of my damn misery.”

His groan seemed to reverberate thanks to his helmet, and he ground his hips in her hand. She rubbed against the fabric harder and smiled as he began to jerk his hips in time with her hand. Her smile grew with each thrust, but she knew he reached his limit when he slapped her hand from the front of him. He pressed his full body up against her and shoved his thigh between her legs while pressing his hands against her breasts.

She moaned as he started to knead at her bust and she could feel her hips dragging her core along his thigh to create needed friction. Her head lolled back against the wall as pleasure spiked through her body.

“Fuck, Mando, this. . .” She sighed. “I’ve been waiting so long to feel your hands on me.”

“Yeah?”

“God yes, I had to hold myself back after that run in Byss.”

“Fuck.” The word dragged out on a sigh as she shifted her leg and her own thigh pressed against his erection. It was her turn to slap his hands away as she shifted to take off her shirt. As soon as it dropped on the floor, he immediately reached for her bra, taking it off. He loved her breasts, loved watching them slightly bounce as she moved throughout the day. Hell, the first thing he thinks of when he works himself is her breasts.

And then he saw them.

He knew her people practiced body modification, but she told him that she only did a little before she left for the galactic adventures that brought them together. He wasn’t expecting the small rings hanging from her nipples and it took all his will power not to come right then and there. But he couldn’t stop his moans at the sight. Fuck, the need was practically clawing at his throat. He wanted to toss off his helmet and suck her nipples into his mouth, letting his tongue play with the metal hanging from them.

She smiled at his reaction, using the distraction to starting taking off his cape and his chest piece. She began working on the wrist guards when he yanked of her grasp and began stripping himself. She followed suit and she stood there naked and practically shivering with want. He stripped everything but his helmet and his pants off.

He stepped back up against her and wrapped his arms around her. She in turn wrapped her arms around him, pressing her chest against his. He moaned again and she smiled.

“Do you find this funny?” He ground out as he rubbed his erection against her stomach.

“Absolutely, now fuck me already.”

He was happy to oblige, but first he reached down into the pile of his clothes and pulled out a strip of cloth. She looked at him and smiled, taking it out of his hand. She wrapped it around her eyes, and she could hear the thunk of metal on cloth. She drew her breath in, the roiling feelings in her lower stomach becoming a blazing inferno.

Suddenly, she felt a warm mouth engulf her nipple and her smile was replaced with a small ‘o’ as heat unfurled through her body, driving her hands to the back of his head to hold him closer. Yes, she thought, this is exactly what I wanted. She felt his hand grasp her other breast and her hips began to jerk at a speed to match his tongue. Her whimpers grew louder as he gently pulled on the small rings with his teeth.

He brought his other hand to her core, running his finger through her slit and gathering the wetness he found there before bringing it up to her clit. She cried out when he began to rub against her and she was certain she saw stars behind her eyes. He inserted a finger into her warm depth and they both groaned at the same time. After a few strokes, he inserted a second finger while rubbing the heel of his palm against her clit and kept up his assault on her breasts.

She felt like her brain was turning to mush at the stimulation, but she worked through the haze to reach into his pants and drew out his cock. He was so thick, and she bit her lip knowing that she was going to feel that stretching her until she felt full of nothing but him. She wrapped her hand around him and began slowly pumping him. His breath hitched in his throat and for a moment his mouth stilled on her breast and his hand slowed down. She couldn’t see it, but his eyes were screwed shut at the pleasure.

But the need to keep touching her was strong and he went back to work on making her come. The renewed double assault on her senses drew her orgasm quickly, however, and she bit down on his shoulder to muffle her screams. He kept up the pace of his mouth and hands as her orgasm wound down and she jerked away from him the best she could when the overstimulation became too much.

“I said fuck me.” She panted, barely able to get the words out. She could feel him grin against her chest and couldn’t stop a similar smile growing on her own face. As the Mandalorian rose to his full height, he wrapped his hands under her thighs and lifted her off the ground. She immediately put her legs around his waist and clung to his neck. Not being able to see disoriented her a bit, but once she was pressed against the wall, she felt more grounded. She could feel the hard length of his cock against her and she quietly moaned at the feeling.

The Mandalorian released one thigh to lined himself up against her and entered her with an upwards thrust, burying his cock to the hilt. She gasped loudly, even though she knew it was coming. He stood there for long minutes, savoring the feel of her tightness around him. He leaned his head down and grabbed a nipple with his teeth, gently tugging. When she moaned and snaked a hand into his hair, that’s when he started to move.

His strokes were strong, and it felt like he practically touched her soul each time he bottomed out in her. She pressed her shoulders into the wall so she could bear down on his cock, her head lolling to the side in ecstasy. Yes, god, this is exactly what I needed, she thought. As his strokes became harder and faster, she brought a hand down to her free breast and began to pull at her nipple, sending earth shattering pleasure straight to her clit.

In a mimicry of her movements, he moved a hand between them to begin rubbing her clit. She nearly screamed at the pleasure of it. His cock, his mouth, his hand and hers – the stimulation was becoming overwhelming and she was sure she was going to die. Confident that he securely had her, she removed her hand from the back of his head and brushed it down his chest, lightly rubbing his own nipples. His thrusting stuttered as the pleasure rolled through his body and his groan reverberated through her chest.

“I’m going to come.” He rasped out, releasing her nipple long enough to talk.

“Then come, I want it.” She replied.

Groaning, he began to slam into her harder as his fingers seemed a blur on her clit. When he bent his head and bit her nipple, she came undone. As she began to scream, he slammed his lips to swallow her cries and came harder than he ever had before.

Soon his hips slowed to a stop but didn’t withdraw right away. Their breathing was heavy, and she wasn’t certain if she would ever stop the galloping speed of her heart. He rested his head on her shoulder and she did the same. He slowly withdrew from her and they both hissed at the loss. She went to unwrap her legs when he whispered for her to stop.

She felt herself moving, realizing he was carrying her somewhere and when the world seemed to tilt, she realized he was laying her on his bed. When she felt the mattress of the cot press against her back, she unhooked her legs and stretched them out. The Mandalorian settled himself between her legs, pressing his body flush against hers.

As he laid his head against her chest, be brought his hand up to lightly play with her nipples. She ran her fingers through his hair in time with him and they both lightly groaned at the stimulation.

“God, if I knew you had pierced nipples, I would have fuck you long before Byss.” He said, snaking a tongue out to rub it against the metal found there. She started to laugh that softened into a moan, and he smiled against her. They laid in comfortable silence for a long time, lightly touching each other as if to make up for lost time. The hands that snaked down their backs withdrew, clasped together and patiently waiting for them to be ready to go again.

#the mandalorian #pedro pascal #the mandolorian x reader #pedro pascal x reader #smut

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