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#but I have been washed in a wave of exhaustion and now I dont know if I will be able to
arrowpunk · 2 months
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Well I got a job
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stevestevesstuff · 1 year
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It's not your fault | Captain Rex x jedi!reader
Summary: After a mission gone wrong, you don't feel so good.
Warnings: angst, sort of comfort i guess? Weird ending
So, this is a short and quick story, just to test the waters xD. I hope you still enjoy!
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The quiet humming of the mechanics and the subtle light of hyperspace have always been extremely comforting.
As you sat in your designated seat, right next to the pilots one, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and just enjoyed the moment.
At least you tried to.
That mission was more than complicated. It has been exhausting. It took every last bit of physical and mental strengh you had left.
You had lost more men then initially thought and that broke you. You promised  you'd watch out for them. You promised to keep them safe.
But you didn't, you couldn't.
You were needed everywhere at once, of course you couldnt split yourself into two.
But you should have been there. You should have fought with them.
Even if it wasnt possible for you to be at two fronts at the same time, it still felt like you failed the group of soldiers that gave their life while defending the planet. Without you by their side.
You failed them.
You let them die. Alone.
You were their general.
It was all your fault.
All those lives lost.
All because of your inability to stop the enemy from spreading to another front.
As you spiralled further into your distructive thoughts, the door to the cockpit opened with a whoosh.
Still stuck in your mind, you didnt notice the noise nor the presence of the other person joining you.
A hand came to your shoulder, gently squeezing it. The unexpected contact made you jump a little in your seat, but as you slowly came back to reality, you could immediately sense who was at your side.
You hesitated a moment before you turned around with a slight smile.
"Rex. What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry, General. I did not want to intrude nor scare you. You didnt react at first. I just wanted to come check on you. This mission was...well...hard, i guess."
"It's okay, dont worry. I'm fine. Thank you", you said with a soft, but still forced smile.
The Captain opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself, staring at you with careful eyes.
"With all due respect General, but i do not need to be a jedi to know that you are not 'fine'."
The moment those words left his lips, you turned away. You could not bare to look at him. What were you supposed to say?
You are a jedi, you should not show weakness, especially not infront of the men you lead into battle.
"General?"
"I'm sorry, lost in my thoughts." You turned around again to face him, but avoiding his eyes.
"No need to apologise. But as i said, you do not look fine. I just...I..."
Even without looking at him, you could feel his gaze on you. Kind of like he was searching your eyes, begging you to look at him.
Suddenly, a wave of annoyance washed over you. If he didnt know what to say, why was he here? Why did he bother you in your comfortable moment of self-pity?
"Captain, if you do not have anything more to say, i would be very thankful if you left."
You widened your eyes in suprise. This came out harsher then intended.
You cursed yourself internally.
It was not his fault. Nothing that happend had been his fault. Why were you snapping at him?
Now you felt even worse.
"I-...I'm sorry Rex. I didn't mean to snap at you...I just-"
"It's okay General. If my presence is unwanted, i will not bother you any further. I apologise for my intrusion."
As you lifted your head to look at the Captain again, he bowed his head a little, then turned around towards the door.
As he pressed the button to open it, he hesitated a little.
He turned is head slightly towards you, but not looking at you.
"You know...what i wanted to say is....its not your fault."
And with that, he left.
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luvsicksubs · 3 years
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 ꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎
sweethearts - bakugo katsuki 
wc: 1.6k 
cw: pegging / anal fingering, degradation, dacryphilia, sub!space, dom!reader (afab but i dont think there’s anything gendered?), using the word cunt for bakugo,  pro-hero!bakugo, and a lot of super fluffy aftercare at the end. 
“Y-you’re so — hic — so fuckin’ mean,” 
Your laugh is warm - too warm for something like this. With Bakugos face pressed firmly into your shoulder, strong arms wrapped around your neck - your laughter feels cruel. It sounds sweet but Bakugo knows better than to fall for it - aware of the irony in his words as your hands grip the meat of his thighs. Your fingers are bruising as they hold onto the muscle, legs lifted and wrapped your back with his calves twitching and trembling. 
You’re trying to hold in your amusement - refocusing your eyes on Bakugo in this state. Your favorite pro-hero’s expression, normally so stoic and cold now broken. Skin flushed red from the tips of his ears down to his chest - warmth running down his back in waves. He’s sobbing poor thing, nails scratching up your back without remorse.  
In an effort to get him to show some submission, you pull out full-stop. Bakugo gasps at the emptiness, whimpering as your heavy eyes watch his hole tremble. So pretty and so desperate, the feeling of hot plastic is replaced with strong hands - angular and plunging. You lay him on his back and lean back yourself, your fingers teasing and prodding the sensitive ring of muscle. It’s sore, red and puckered from exhaustion - stretches all too easily around your thin fingers. 
But it’s more precise this way, Bakugo realizes in half-terror and half-lust - eyes flickering down to your middle and and ring fingering scissoring him open. Not a tight fit by any means but Bakugo clamps down on you anyway. You laugh at him, can’t help yourself as your hand presses down on his belly. 
“You’re so mouthy, aren’tcha brat?,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the calf at your face, resting your cheek on it as you position Bakugos hips up using a pillow. His cock weeps pathetically onto the muscle of his stomach, red and burning and aching. Everything in him feels warn out and he can’t do anything but sob - not a thought running through his mind other than missing having you inside. 
“So damn disobedient but this always shuts you right the fuck up, doesn’t it baby?,” and the question is rhetorical - always is. Your fingers are angled directly at his prostate so perfectly, practically milking the orgasms out of his body with only one hand. Everything is too much. 
“Too much - ‘s too much, fuck,”  
He’s thrashing, arms desperately clawing into the sheets for life as you easily work another orgasm out of him like this. He’s lost count, doesn’t even care to know as he feels your other hand simply brush against his sore cock. He can’t breath, half choking out a sob as his body floods to weakly spurt out a thin stream of cum, if you could even call it that. 
“See? Didn’t talk back even one time right there, did you?,” and your hands, cruel as ever - draw a line in the cum that coats his stomach and the sheets. He shivers, eyes welling up with tears of shame.  
“This is the only way pretty boys like you know how to cum right?,” you ask, hand landing on his and leaving another familiar print in your wake. The pain jolts him awake, makes him drool. 
“Like your body was made for me to fuck ‘n use like a little toy, right Katsuki? Pretty little hole you got is begging to get fucked all over again,” 
“I don’ like it, swear I don’t, swear  — fuck,” 
You grin - so much spitfire in your sweet brat. You take pleasure in pulling your fingers out and thrusting them right back in, massaging his g-spot with intensity in your gaze. His eyes shoot open, frantically searching for your face in pure need before seeing your feral expression and swallowing. 
“Liar. You love it when I use you.  So pretty and perfect like this,” 
You lean up, the weight of your body pressed against his - lubed plastic cock grinding hard against his own. He bites his lip hard enough for it to swell moments after, arms desperately coming around your body for support as he loses strength. Fuckfuckfuck. 
“Tell me you love it - tell me how much you love when I ruin this pretty lil cunt baby,” 
Bakugo swallows a heavy breath as his body tightens up. Your hands feel good but it’s not enough, he knows he needs more. His body trembles, throat hoarse as he sobs and sniffles into your chest. Bruises and hickies blooming all over his skin create a hazy buzz in his head as panicked eyes find yours - gasping as he desperately tries to find his voice. A hand wrapped around his throat has him shaking violently. 
“I love it — hic — fuck.. fuck me already,” he chokes out the words between sobs, fat tears sliding down his face and onto the sheets as his hands lock around your shoulders - desperately searching for reprieve. His ass is grinding against the strap even more eagerly than before, cock almost limp and making a wet noise as it moves against his belly. 
The tip of your cock presses right against his hole, and you grin. A hand around his throat, another pressed on his stomach - you lean low. Teeth catching his ear lobe, you whisper. 
“Say please, Katsuki.” 
“Fuck, please!,” 
Like something had been triggered in you, you immediately pull-back and slam back in one fluid motion. Bakugo cries out - moans so brokenly in a silent scream as you set a violent pace. He uses his hands to hold his legs up, afraid of what’ll happen if he doesn’t as you jackhammer him into the bed. The mattress ricochets off your every movement - headboard banging loudly against the walls. But Bakugo’s voice is louder, lewd and desperately croaking about how fucking good it all feels. His cock stands to attention again - and the pleasure drowns out the blurry pains of overstimulation like a drug. You grit your teeth as the friction of the strap grinds against your clit. 
Your hand pumps Bakugo’s cock furiously as you fuck him, and Bakugo has given up on doing anything but repeating your name like a prayer. His incantations send shivers up your spine as you grunt into his ear - your own orgasm mere seconds away. 
“One more yeah? Give me one fuckin’ more - be a good little cumslut for me and give me one more baby,” 
“Oh, god,” 
Almost in tandem, you reach your orgasm only seconds after your boyfriend reaches his. You nearly choke at how hard you cum, lungs burning as pleasure curls through your body and you’re groaning into neck. Panting desperately, you lift your head-up to meet Bakugos with a soft smile
You kiss his jaw softly, smiling. 
“You did so well baby,” you hum against his throat, brushing his hair back. 
“Let’s get you fixed up,” 
__
[ after-care ] 
You would argue this is the best part. After fucking the daylights out of your bratty boyfriend - he’s half-way there as you kiss and massage his body. He’s pliant, dizzy - somewhat gaining his consciousness. He can only half-find it in himself to argue with you as you take care of him. He succumbs to your touch and silently plants himself in your lap or otherwise as you do. In the bath, he spent ample time having you hold him and scratch his scalp as you wash it. 
When he wanted kisses, he simply looks up at you - vermilion eyes catching light as you laugh lightly and kiss whatevers closest. He only closes his eyes against when he’s satisfied with it. The warm water helps him feel steady, relaxing into the water. 
You dry his hair off in the bathroom before transpiring back to your bedroom - where Bakugo curls up exhaustedly in the corner as you fix up the sheets and get him to lay down. 
You talk idly as you rub lotion down his body - watching his eyes flutter close. Your hands go over all the marks, bruises, bites and scratches with soft kisses before paying special attention to them. For the first time since you’ve finished, you get a sentence out of him. 
“You’re a demon,” he slurrs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh, you hands squeezing his pecks before bending down to kiss him. A glass of water by the bed-side prompts him to sit up and drink before leaning against the frame. 
“Nice to see you, baby,” you joke. You grown serious just as fast, sitting between his legs with his face in your hands - observing him. 
“How do you feel, angel?,” 
His eyes flutter open - sleepy and full of vulnerable adoration. You’ve fucked the fight out of him, literally so he’s in no place to deny your affection. He yawns. 
“‘s fine, stupid. ‘m okay. Are you?,” 
Your heart flutters. Sometimes he reminds you in little ways like this that this goes both ways. You nod, hold one of his hands in yours. 
“I’m fine. Worried I was too rough on you, or too mean,” 
He scoffs, almost offended. 
“Who’dya take me for,” comes his reply. You laugh, softly placing his forehead against his - shrugging. 
“Right, right,” you hum, leaning forward to kiss him deep and slow. Everything is still, slow and perfect. He opens his eyes, overcome by his own emotions and hugs you tiredly. 
“Love you, dumbass,” he chokes. You yawn as he clings to you, kissing the crown of his head. 
“I love you too, Katsuki,” 
 ꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎
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iwaisuke · 3 years
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confessions; but not remembering it
ft. kita shinsuke, sakusa kiyoomi x sick fem!reader
genre: fluff
masterlist
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and then i rushed bc i was getting tired 🙃 also. sakusa's is a little ooc. sorry ab that
-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆
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» the clean yet musty smell of rain filled the gym as the boys practiced. it was a surprisingly humid and rainy spring day today here in the country side of hyogo
» "achoo" you had been sneezing and coughing all day. you also had a terrible headache but took some medicine to see if it would help. the spring allergies really getting to you
» you didnt reay have the time to be worrying about yourself. As a 2nd year manager of the inarizaki team, (recommend by suna) and the boys working so hard practicing for nationals there was no way you'd let this little cold get in the way. you had to work just as hard as everyone else!
» "hold on, im about to hang up your jerseys to dry"
» "i got you guys some fresh towels!"
» "i can run and grab that coach. im headed that way anyways"
» the coach called for a short break to rest up for a bit. everyone was sore and exhausted from practicing every day. "here. i filled your water bottles up!" handing them to all the boys. "y/n you're all wet" akagi sounded concerned.
» "hm? oh its alright. I'll dry off in a minute. i took the shortcut to the drinking fountain to refill your waterbottles instead of taking the long way" you nonchalantly said. "so you ran through the rain like an idiot?" suna threw a clean towel over your damp hair and ruffled it. "suna!! stop!! you're gonna ruin my hair"
» "like i said. its alright" you reassured the boys.
» kita, on the other hand had noticed your fatigue. although he wasnt as perceptive on peoples feeling and thoughts as well as others, he could easily pick up signs like yours. he admired you dearly for how hard you always work for the team. how you willingly did anything to make them smile. how you always put others first before yours. needless to say, he had a bit of a crush on you.
» "l/n san. i think you should take a break too. there's no need for you to be running around for us while we're resting" kita assured you. "i still have a few things left on my list to do.. but afterwards I'll take a break!" kita let out a sigh. you were stubborn sometimes and kita knew you were the kind of person to not stop until you're finished.
» "I'll be right back. i gotta grab the laundry"
» making an excuse to leave, your heart was beating fast. you knew kita's words were the kind he'd say to anyone, but it made your heart feel fuzzy when he'd look out for you.
» the stone cold captain who you thought he was, actually was so kind. he was just a little awkward like you, and a little blunt with what he said sometimes. but you learned the great qualities he carries and how much he actually cares about others well being. he was a hard worker and you couldnt help but absentmindedly fall for the captain.
» running up the stairs to the second floor of the gym, you felt a shift in your step. head becoming dizzier than it was just 5 minutes ago. legs trembling, you started falling before feeling a presence behind.
» kita's arm wrapped around your waist, supporting you in efforts to not letting you fall over. "i told you to rest l/n san" kita said sternly. "you wont benefit anyone if you keep overworking like this."
» you knew kita was right, but you really didnt want to rest knowing you'll be letting the team down by not working hard.
» "i promise I'll rest as soon as im done with this one thing" pleading with kita. he let out a sigh, knowing you really wouldnt until you did finish so he allowed you to do so.
» finishing grabbing all of the dry jerseys and bringing them downstairs to pass out to everyone, you didnt really notice atsumu and osamu spiking volleyballs at each other until aran yelled
» "y/n! watch out!" honestly, you were too tired to move out of the way so you figured, it do be like that sometimes, and allowed the ball to hit you.
» or... so you had planned the ball to hit you.
» kita stood in front, blocking the impact of the spike that you had prepared yourself for. there was agitation in kita's eyes. more than you usually noticed when then twins were miss behaving. concern washing over, he looked you straight in the eyes
» "... is there something wrong kita san?" lifting up his hand to your forehead, he let out a sigh. "why didnt you tell me earlier you had a fever", then walking over to the coach meanwhile atsumu and osamu come over to apologise for being reckless.
» "get your stuff. we're going home" kita said bluntly.
» "huh? but practice is-"
» "please l/n san. for me"
» kita would only take yes for an answer this time. no if's ands or buts. so here you were, walking home with kita. only the sound of raindrops hitting your shared umbrella being heard.
» muscles starting to ache a little more and your legs becoming more tired than they were when you left the gym, you began to walk a little slower every step
» "get on my back l/n" "its ok kita san, i can walk. its already enough that you're walking me home" "i didnt ask if you wanted to. im telling you to"
» you couldnt tell if it was the fever that made your face warmer or if it was kita's words. nonetheless, you got on kita's back. he was a lot stronger than he looked and you couldnt help but stifen at being so close to your own crush like this.
» "relax. I'll make sure you get home." he reassured. you leaned into his back, warmth seeping in, your eyes began to feel heavy.
» "kita san" "yes?" "thank you for always watching out for me"
» a comfortable silence was met as the sound of rain filled your ears.
» "kita san" "hm?" "did you know..." your voice softened "i like you a lot kita san"
» did he hear you correctly? if he wasnt paying attention he wouldve missed what you had said, being drowed out through the pitter patter of water. now his heart thumping louder than ever before.
» "l/n san-" he was about to go on but was met with the gentle rise and fall of your chest and the soft snores of you on his back, knocked out from exertion. kita let out a light chuckle, finally relieved you were resting.
» you had missed the next day of school, but when you came back the whole volleyball team bombarded you with love.
» "WE'RE A FAILURE TO NOT NOTICE YOU FEELING SICK" atsumu cried. "how could we let our one and only precious manager get ill for taking care of us" akagi, clearly dissapointed in himself. "please let us know when we can take care of you too y/n" aran said.
» "its no big deal. really!" waving your hands in defense. "it was just a small cold. but i do have a question though"
» all the boys gathered around to hear what you had to say
» "how did i get home?? i really dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu"
» it shocked the guys honestly. you genuinely didnt remember a single thing due to your fever. "wait? you don't remember kita taking you home?" suna replied, your face becoming red. "k-kita san took me home-?" "yah. he left in the middle of practice to do so" osamu added.
» immediately, you got up to find the captain that apparently took you home the other day. he was in the storage closet cleaning and grabbing the equipment for todays practice.
» "kita san" "oh. l/n. glad you're feeling better" his smile brightened the musty closet. "about that, im sorry for troubling you and having you take me home the other day. i honestly dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu. my mind was really fuzzy that day, but im truly thankful for you going out of your way for me. it really means a lot"
» kita was dumbfounded. you really dont remember? "no need to apologize l/n. it was my responsibility as a captain. and afterall, what good would i be if i couldnt even take care of the person who means the most to me"
» your heart raced. 'person who means the most to me' ? cheeks blushing a rosy pink, you were internally thanking the musty store room from being dim.
» with arms full of equipment, kita walked by you and stopped.
» "by the way l/n san. did you know?"
» ears perking up at the vague yet familiar line
» "i like you a lot too l/n san"
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» now we all know sakusa HATES germs and for the past week and a half, he's been telling you to keep up with washing your hands, wearing a mask at all times even when you eat omi it doesnt work like that. pls especially since you are prone to getting sick easily no matter how hygenic you are. your immune system just hated you. PERIODT
» you remembered sakusa scolding you for running out of hand sanitizer and then the next day you were out of commission. bed ridden with laryngitis, cough, slight fever, the whole works. it was like your body was making fun of you or something
» you texted komori, asking him to take notes in class for you and relay homework information while you were at home resting up. but there was one request you had and made komori PROMISE.
» DO NOT TELL SAKUSA YOU GOT SICK
» "he's probably gonna notice your absence y/n. he'll find out about it either way"
» "well if you dont tell him then he wont know. its not like he even cares about where i am like that"
» "thats what you might think. but i know he's gonna say something i can garuntee it"
» the next day at school, sakusa did notice your presence missing. it was quieter not having a 3rd person in the group of friends. not having you around to talk to him when komori was gone.
» pulling out his phone to text you, he asked where you were that day.
» "on a family trip :D !!! forgot to tell you, but I'll tell you all about it when i come back!" you wrote, attaching an old selfie of a different trip you went on to make it more believable.
» you had hoped this silly cold would get better in a day, but soon that day turned into 2 and then 3 and then 4... you pretty much missed the whole week of school at that point
» Friday rolled around and komori was on his phone all day. sakusa noticed his cousin fidget in his chair more than usual and it irked him to see him like that
» "what's with you today?" one eye raised, sakusa finally asked. "uhhh nothing really" komori wasnt very good at keeping secrets lets just start off with that, but he was trying his best.
» "well clearly somethings wrong. you're fidgeting." "well haven't you noticed somethings been different all week?" komori hinted
» sakusa sat there in thought. nothing's been different? he ate the same breakfast he usually does every morning. all his studies have been well. there were no tests this week so there was no reason to be anxious like komori was and even if there was, he would've done well anyways.
» "just tell me what it is." sakusa was starting to get annoyed. "y/n..." komori started. "y/n?" "do you know where she's been this week?"
» did you not tell komori about your family trip? you usually told komori everything, but then again you didn't tell him either until he asked you about it.
» "she said shes on a trip?" he nonchalantly said. komori's eyes started watering. "A TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL THATS WHAT IT IS" he blurted out. komori didnt mean to let it slip , he was just so worried about your well being.
» "hospital?? what are you talking about. did she get injured on her trip?" "no omi. shes been sick all week and her mom just texted me saying she went to the hospital today because shes had a fever for 3 days straight. there is no family trip"
» sakusa's heart shattered. you were sick and didnt even tell him?
» before both he and komori knew it, his legs were running faster to get to the hospital than he had ever imagined he could ever run.
» and there you were. fast asleep in a bed with an IV drip. your face flushed, forehead sweaty and shallow breaths escaping your chapped lips. you were a hot mess but sakusa didnt care. stepping to your bedside to greet your mother she explained to him that she had to go to work and asked if he could watch over you until she gets back.
» sakusa said yes without even hearing the whole thing. his heart and mind saying yes to whatever it took to get you to feel better.
» gosh how he hated hospitals, but what he hated even more was the fact that you were in the hospital and he didnt even know.
» the doctor came in for their evening round and ensured sakusa that you were indeed getting better! your fever had broken not too long ago and your body was working extra hard to heal itself up!
» "is there anything i can do to help?" sakusa asked. he felt helpless in this situation just watching your face distort in uncomfort every now and then, and coughing your lungs out.
» patting sakusa's shoulder, the doctor told him that just being here for you is enough. "you gotta be a strong boyfriend for her alright son? she'll be able to go home tomorrow first thing in the morning if her fever doesnt come back"
» sakusa slumped in his chair at your bedside, the doctors words ringing through his head. 'boyfriend huh?' he thought to himself. "if i was her boyfriend..." he whispered to himself, "i would be a failure for not even knowing my girl was sick..."
» to kiyoomi, you were beautiful. even now in this sad state you were in. deep down he locked these growing feelings he had for you inside of him because he always felt like you were a better match with someone else and after this stunt you pulled of lying to him about going on a family trip, it only made him feel worse.
» it was now night time and you finally began to stir in your sleep, the fever finally gone. sakusa reached out to move some hair that was stuck to your face, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. your eyes slowly opened and met with his dark orbs.
» "y/n?" "saku- wait this is just a dream. omi wouldn't be here. he hates hospitals" you let out a forced laugh and then a sigh through your sore throat.
» you reached out to sakusa's hands that were resting on the side of your bed. "omi would never let me hold his hand because he'd say im passing germs to him so hopefully dream omi wont be the same" you were aimlessly talking to yourself, not even realizing that this really wasnt a dream.
» he squeezed your hand in return. hoping that you wouldnt let go any time soon. a funny smile appeared on your face just at the thought of him. "even if you're stupid for not realizing how much i like you... i cant wait to see you again omi" you whispered before falling asleep again.
» sakusa didnt know what to do. he sat there frozen in his chair. it was his first time hearing you call him omi. heck. you literally just confessed to the boy. his brain was running wild. groaning in distress he let go of your hand to step out for a breath of fresh air now that you were back asleep.
» it was 5am and your mother came back to the hospital and thanked sakusa for staying by your side. He left in a hurry to make sure you didnt see him there.
» Monday rolled around and sakusa was waiting outside of the school gates for you. he had planned on asking you about your "trip"
» "good morning sakusa!!" your bright and cheery voice rang through his ears. honestly he was trembling inside. the memory of you confessing to him still fresh in his mind.
» "how was your trip?" you stopped dead in your tracks. "haha... it was good !! sorry i forgot to get you a souvenir" you were trying to play it cool but sakusa could tell you were forcing yourself. "i wouldnt want a souvenir from where you came from so its fine" sakusa's words threw you off. "i - im not sure im understanding what you're saying sakusa?"
» you felt a tug on your hand. "dont you mean omi?" his voice husky as he whispered into your ear. cheeks flushed, your brain felt like it short circuted. you've always tried your hardest to not let it slip that you want to call him omi since he hated when people called him that.
» sakusa smirked at your cute reaction he got out of you. letting go of your hand he began to walk into the school leaving you at the gate dumbfounded. "and by the way. you're just as stupid for not realizing how long ive liked you too"
-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆
thank you for your order! enjoy~!
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kiribaku-queen · 3 years
Text
The Blood King and his Queen [7]
Pairing: Bakugou x reader
Romance, Angst, Drama
Word count: 2.4K
Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?
A/N: I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter because I think its my favorite chapter so far! FYI, if I don't update this series in a while, it'll be because I am working on an 18+ oneshot for a collab for Bakugou's birthday. So if that does happen, the regular uploads will happen after Bakugou's birthday. And let me tell you, its going to be S P I C Y~
But I can't express how surprised I am by all the love I'm receiving! I really wish I could respond to all your comments, but again, this is my side blog so I can't comment! If ya'll want to follow me on my main... please dont. LOL not to be mean or anything but I don't use my main at all and I don't post ever so there's no point in following me there :)
PLEASE ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG! JOIN THE FAMILY!
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Your heart physically dropped when he said that. You felt sick. Your palms were sweating and shaking. The air around you grew dense and you felt like you couldn’t breath. You couldn’t move for that matter.
Ruin?
What would he do to you if he found out that you weren’t really a princess? That you were a fake lying to him this whole time. It made you sick, just imaging every cruel thing he could do once he found out. But then you remembered, he wasn’t like all the rumors you heard. He was different. He was kind and understanding. He wouldn’t really ruin you if he found out, would he? You shook away the thought. The more you think about it, the more you were likely to get caught.
You were completely exhausted from all that labor you produced in a week’s time. Town after town, you were able to help his people even if it was just a little bit. But it sure depleted a lot of energy out of you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this drained before in your entire life. It’s not like you had to do hard physical labor back at the palace. This experience was hard on you but also gave you insight on the prince and his kingdom.
Completely drained of your energy, you sat down on one of the tree trunks his soldiers brought for you at the camp not far away from the village you were at. The impoverished village didn’t have enough shelter as is, so you were left with no option but to set up your own shelter. It wasn’t a big deal to you anyway since that’s how you’ve been spending your nights so far.
All the soldiers had gathered around to take a breather for the night and drink away the stress. You weren’t a drinker, but enjoyed the atmosphere the soldiers created: fun and rowdy, like they didn’t give a care in the world. They were dancing on tables, clinking their drinks together, singing songs while hooking their arms around each other’s shoulders.
You laughed at the sight and stretched out your arms. How you wanted to continue the night away but your muscles were soar and aching. A physical exhaustion that you weren’t used to and didn’t want to get used to.
Bakugou was watching his crew from the door, arms crossed and enjoying his crew have fun. He was never the one to be center of attention, so he had his own fun from the back. He saw the way you extended your arms, faced wincing from how sore you were. Cute. It was your last night of volunteer work, why not end the night with something special?
You felt the Blood Prince’s breath sneak up behind your neck, sending chills down your spine.
“Tired?” he asks.
“Maybe just a little,” you admit. You look up at him and he’s giving you those soft yet piercing eyes. He goes to sit next to you and everything is just… peaceful. In that moment you felt content. You felt free. If this was how life was out of the palace, if this was more to life than just serving a spoiled princess, then you didn’t want to leave.
“I am impressed, princess,” Bakugou spoke. “This whole trip, you never, not once sat out. You helped the whole time. Are you sure you’re a princess?” he side eyed you.
“If I am not a princess, then what am I?” you asked back. (y/n), what are you doing? You could expose yourself and everything would be ruined! But for some reason, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to know his reaction and how he would respond. Maybe you would give up your whole mission for him.
“An innocent and hardworking beauty that is not a princess. She is my future queen who will help me restore this kingdom.” He came closer to you, meaning every single word. Your eyes softened and you got emotional, almost to the point of tears. He’s smiling at you, but suddenly gets up. But gestures for you to take his hand. Of course you did.
“I want to show you something,” he says and leads you away from the crowd of people and into the woods.
You two were walking for a while, your hand in his the whole way. He hadn’t told you where he was leading you to but it had to be something special if he was dragging you to what seemed like all across the country to get to your destination.
“Your highness, are we almost there yet?” you asked, fatigue hitting you once again.
“Almost,” he responds, continuing to look ahead. You huffed and held on tight to his hand so you didn’t get lost or left behind. After a few more minutes of walking, you felt the air get hotter and thinner. Bakugou smiles in front of you, looking excited.
“We’re here,” he announces. He pulls back these huge leaves, revealing a natural hot spring. The water was clear enough that you could see right through it, steam rising from the water, and rocks surrounding it, creating this gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere. Your eyes lit up and a loud gasp escaped your lips.
“How did you find this place?” you asked, getting closer to the hot spring.
“You like it? None of my men know about this place,” he says.
“It’s beautiful!” you continue to gasp, feeling the water with your hands. The heat of the water made you giddy and you couldn’t wait to hop in.
“You deserve it,” Bakugou comes up to, whispering in your ear. His statement made you blush, but this time, you didn’t hide it. He smirks behind you and you heard something falling to the floor. You dare turn around to see Bakugou shirtless, discarding his clothes one by one. As if your face wasn’t hot enough, steam was coming out of your ears with embarrassment.
“What are you doing?” you freaked out, turning around immediately.
“Getting in,” he said in the most obvious tone of voice.
“Together?”
“You’ll be on one side and I’ll be on the other,” he points out a huge rock, separating the hot spring into two pools. That seems a little better, but the idea of soaking in a hot spring together with the prince was nerve wracking.
“Princess, you can enter first, if that makes you feel better,” he suggested. When you turn to look at him, he already had his back turn out of respect for you.
So you undress and enter the heated water, noticing that all your muscles relaxed and the aches started going away as soon as you hit the water. You lean the back of your head on the rock and allow yourself to fully relax and destress. You could hear water splashing from the other side of the rock, indicating that Bakugou had also entered the water. Humming in satisfaction. You grew deeper and deeper in the hot spring until your nose was sitting on top of the water.
“Princess, I realize that I don’t know your name,” Bakugou spoke. Your name? You stayed silent. Was it wise to use your own name or should you continue to play as the princess?
“(y/n).” you decided.
“(y/n),” Bakugou repeated, elongating your name as if he stopped saying it, it’d disappear from him forever. The way your name left his lips felt like butter to him. He couldn’t help himself from repeated your name over and over again in his mind. You giggled and looked over the rock, arms crossed and head resting over them.
“Your highness, allow me to scrub your back,” you offered. Bakugou waved his hand while shaking his head.
“Nonsense. You shall not attend to me. We’re here to relax,” he had to remind you. But you insisted.
“But I want to, Prince Bakugou,” you pouted, jutting out your bottom lip.
“The high and mighty princess wants to wash the blood Prince’s back?” he questions playfully. He glances back to see you resting on top of the rock, giving him your big doe eyes.
“If you insist,” he gave up. He turns his back again, making sure to give you the privacy you needed to be able to come over to his side. You make your way over to him, covering your breasts in case. When you got settled behind him, you started washing his back.
You expected Bakugou to have scars from his many battles he’s had, but you didn’t expect his back to be covered in decolored and deformed wounds. Unknowingly, your hands went up to caress each scar.
“Does that frighten you?” he asks.
“Not at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it makes you very brave.”
A comfortable silence fell upon you. Only the sound of water running and insects in the background could be heard. That was until you felt poke your butt. The hairs on your body hiked and you screamed as loud as you could, rising from the water in panic.
“Princess!” Bakugou instinctively put protection mode on, shooting up from his place to see what the danger was. You immediately clung to him, Bakugou wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. What Bakugou saw wasn’t an enemy but rather, a wild Japanese macaque monkey poking his head out of the water.
“Shoo!” Bakugou scared the monkey out of the water and back into the forest. Bakugou grunted and relaxed his shoulders. “Damn monkeys. I thought they only came out during the winter season. Are you okay, prin…cess,” he looked down at you only for you to look up at him with your exposed chest fully pressed against his chest. Now this could easily be the most embarrassing moment of your entire life. Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out another scream, using all your force to slap him across the face. Bakugou wasn’t expecting such a reaction and it caught him off guard. You put for much force into the slap that Bakugou flew back and fell into the water. You ran out of the spring, covering up as fast as you could.
Bakugou had never been so flustered in his life. He was a blushing mess and now the image of your naked breasts on him could not escape his mind. He needed time to calm himself down and a certain friend from getting too excited.
When you both had returned back to the rest of the crew, everybody had been knocked out cold from the alcohol. Thank goodness, because they couldn’t see how awkward you two were at the moment. That night, you slept in the tent again while Bakugou camped outside.
But you couldn’t sleep. How could that situation happen to you, out of all people? You weren’t sure how much he saw of your naked body. Maybe he didn’t see anything at all. But you saw the expression on his face, he definitely saw something. You covered your chest and closed your eyes. To think that a man saw your body and it wasn’t even your wedding night.
You felt the wind enter your tent, the chill making you shiver. If it was cold inside the tent, it must be extra cold outside. Bakugou was sleeping outside. You bit your lip in confliction. You wanted him to be warm but that means you had to confront him. Ah, fuck it. You opened your tent and saw Bakugou resting on the grass with his cape wrapped around him. And it wasn’t doing a very good job because you could see him shivering. He couldn’t hide it no matter how hard he tried.
“Would you like to come inside?” you invite him in.
“It’s for you, princess,” he reminded you.
“I understand. But it’s too cold to be sleeping out here. Please. I insist,” you urged. He opens one eye and sighs.
“As you wish, princess,” Bakugou gave in. You scooted over to make room for the large man to sleep next to you. Bakugou made himself comfy but he was a tad too tall for the tent that he had to have his legs hanging out. The opening of the tent revealed the big, bright moon overhead.
“I’m sorry for hitting you,” you apologized. Bakugou just lets out a breath.
“It’s whatever. I didn’t see anything, by the way,” he reassures you. Embarrassed again, you unconsciously covered your chest.
“You sure?”
“Erased from my mind,” he says as he closes his eyes and moves his hands around his head, as if he was erasing his memory. You laugh at his antics, more comfortable with the mood that was created. Bakugou laughs with you and turns to you, meeting eyes. This is the nth time that his heart leapt when you stare at him with those innocent, childlike eyes. He clears his throat and all of a sudden, his ears got red.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Bakugou professed. You blinked in confusion. You weren’t sure why he said that. Glancing up at the moon, you guess you could say that it was beautiful. It was a full moon, and shone brightly above your heads. You weren’t versed in the poetics so you couldn’t comprehend the message the Blood Prince was trying to get at you.
“The moon is especially beautiful tonight. But isn’t the moon beautiful every night?” you responded.
Bakugou looks are you in mortification. Fuck, did he just get rejected? His ears got hot and he covered his mouth with his hands.
“Yeah… yeah it is,” he agreed, embarrassed. He took a deep breath in and back out again to calm his beating heart. You look over at him to see him a little distressed. You softly smiled, another side you got to see of him. It was cute. You could feel your heartbeat starting to pick its pace up and that’s when you realized. Gathering up all the courage you could muster, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek you slapped.
“Good night,” you quickly say, then turned over to face away from him. Bakugou stops everything in his tracks and is frozen. He couldn’t help but smile and fall asleep next to you.
The moment you made the decision to kiss him was when you knew that you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to become his queen and rule his kingdom together. You were going to forget your past life. You were going to forget this mission you were on. You were the princess now. That was his truth and you weren’t going to change it.
A/N: For those who don't know, the phrase "the moon is beautiful, isn't it" or 月が綺麗ですね is a more poetic way of saying "I love you" in olden Japanese. And then the response to that would be "I can die happy" or 死んでもいいわ. Just for reference.
As I said before, I absolutely love this chapter and I really really REALLY want to know your reactions and thoughts!
Spoiler: drama starts in the next chapter :)
If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know in the comments or DM me! and if you'd like to be tagged when my 18+ oneshot comes out, let me know too! I love you all!
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malereader-inserts · 4 years
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Something Worthwhile
Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Mycroft Holmes & Brother!Reader & Sherlock Holmes Summary: It’s hard being a Holmes sometimes, especially when you’re alone Word Count: 1,470 Request: Holmes brother who is having difficulties fitting in with his two smart, intelligent and brilliant brothers. He feels left out and alone and ends up isolating himself further. Somehow John is the only one who notices this but Sherlock and Mycroft dont believe him because they dont think a Holmes brother is capable of such feelings so John has to properly lecture them on feelings and stuff and then they search for reader and help him out of the slums. Sorry if this is too long A/n: Y’all be linking brotherly holmes stuff.
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“I could be greater.”
John looks at you, at the doorway, watching you stretch your back, moving boxes surrounding you. You get out a groan at the sweet release of stress leaving your tense muscle, clicking parts of your body as John just stares at you.
He came to visit, check up on you, you had been awfully quiet for a while and he got worried. What he had not expected to see you packing your belonging to move houses. 
“What?” He looks at you confused as you looked at him, a smile but it wasn’t comforting.
It was a smile of tiredness, you shrugged your shoulders.
“I could be greater, you know? Compared to Sherlock and Mycroft, I could be painfully greater.”
“You’re already great.”
“Are you sure? I can hardly keep up with Sherlock and Mycroft, one of them is one of the greatest detectives and the other one is working with the Government. And me?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “I’m not as great as them.”
“So, you’re moving?”
“Uh, isn’t that obvious?”
John looks around, you’re a lot human, easier to relate to as a Holmes. But, he understands to be the odd one out. He can’t fault you for feeling that. He asks you if you need help, you smile and shake your head, waving he off. John tells you that he’s off, if you ever need him he’s only a phone call away - you looked grateful for that.
After that, he doesn’t see you or hear from you. He goes to check your old apartment, it’s cleared out, empty almost as if it’s getting ready to get renovated. It was abandoned and the warmth you gave the house, was washed away. John doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but you’ve disappeared.
It worries John.
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You hated your brothers, just as much as you love them. They were ahead of the game, ahead of life. They’re producing such brilliant works, but you were left behind. You were three steps ahead of the game but your brothers were nine steps ahead. You were walking with life, whilst your brothers are running past it. You could never be your brothers, and it was hard for you to understand that.
Your mother and father have had high expectations after both Mycroft and Sherlock being ahead of their classes, they expected you to be the same. But, you weren’t. You were top of the class, but that hardly meant anything to them. It got tiring to try to keep up with them.
So, you found yourself a place, across London, furthest away from Sherlock’s apartment. It was small but cosy, it was your safe space, plants everywhere, handing from the ceiling, all content in your loving presence. Your cat that lounges around the house currently draped over the back of the sofa. 
The living room was clashing with different colour, but you like that, it was vibrant, you don’t do dull things. If you’re going to take your time with life then you might as well think the world is in bright colours like an indie filter on Instagram. 
You have to romanticise your little life if it means to distract you from your brothers. That means thinking every time you cook, you have to believe you’re in a Studio Ghibli movie, where all the food looks mouth-watering.
You were happier, being away, isolating yourself away. 
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It doesn’t settle well with John. 
So, when he had returned home from work and saw both Holmes brothers, he sat them down, his arms crossed over his chest looking angry at them. Though, to Sherlock that’s how John looks all the time. He gave them a good earful, even Mrs Hudson went upstairs to investigate what was happening. Even she gave her own opinion as well.
But, with both brothers, they took nothing in.
They look at them blankly.
“That’s not (Y/n),” Sherlock breaks the silence with a chuckle, a smile that could freak anyone out, but John was too pissed off with him that he wanted to punch it off.
“Yes, our brother is fine, but I do thank you for the concern,” Mycroft says politely as he flinches at John’s intense glare, “Anyway, (Y/n) doesn’t feel that, if he was, he would have told us.”
“Really?” John asked, scoffing, shaking his head with an unsettling chuckle that made both Holmes brother sit upright, “Why would he tell you what he’s feeling when you constantly dismissing him when he feels anything but confidence?”
“I-”
The brothers wanted to intervene, but this has ticked John off beyond belief. It had prompted him to rant to them that both brothers were afraid to interrupt because after all, John was making sense for once. For once, an average smart man was talking so intelligently that they felt like they were reduced to nothing.
“He tells you that his emotions have been overwhelming, you tell him to get over it. When he can barely get out of bed because he feels like the world is resting upon his shoulders you tell him to grow a thicker skin. When he cries, you tell him its a sign of weakness, he looks for his brothers for guidance but his brothers tell him to look for it himself.”
“John-”
“For God’s sake, he told me he was in therapy because he doesn’t want to tell you because you’d see him as a disappointment. He’s trying so hard and every achievement he does - it gets brushed under the rug. He thinks he has already disappointed your mother and father, God only knows what he’s thinking now to know that his brothers have abandoned him.”
“But, we haven’t,” Sherlock mutters out so softly, John could tell that he was ashamed in himself.
“I don’t even know where he is. He hasn’t been picking up my calls or replying to my messages, I don’t know where he moved.”
“He moved?” Mycroft asked, astounded, as John sighs.
John rubs his forehead, hand on his hip, looking exhausted and stress. Nodding sheepishly. John has been trying hard to locate you but London is a big city with various different apartments. He doesn’t know if you had moved far from your old place, he doesn’t have a brain like the Holmes, he couldn’t deduce where you intend to go.
“Yeah, so while to try to find him. Both of you are going to think of a good apology.”
“How are you so calm? He could have killed hi-”
“He told me that he wouldn’t do that because the thought of his cat thinking he had abandoned her hurts him more than ending it all.”
With a statement like that, the brothers wonder how bad they caused your pain.
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Sherlock and Mycroft walk up to your apartment, the stairs were nice - both brothers noticed, you like that because you hated stairs, especially steep ones. They knocked on your door, hoping it was you on the other side.
They can hear your record player playing some songs, though with the door shut it was hard to tell what was playing. They knock again, before hearing your footsteps and the door opening.
“Why are you here?” You asked, your brothers hurt with no greeting and no smile to come along with it.
“John expressed his concerns,” Mycroft says, swallowing his pride, “It has made up realise that we have-”
“We have fucked up as brothers,” Sherlock completed.
“Charming,” Mycroft mutters bitterly.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” You were about to slam the door but Sherlock was strong enough to keep the door open with just the strength of his left arm, “Leave me alone.”
“No, we’re not leaving until we fix our mess. We’re brothers, our parents have given us hell and it’s not fair for you to go through their hell all by yourself,” Sherlock says firmly before eyes softening, “Please (Y/n).”
“You don’t have to talk, you can just listen,” Mycroft says as a compromise, to meet you in the middle, “We know that you’re not going to forgive us right away, but, we don’t want you to be alone again.”
You stand there in silence, before huffing out, opening the door wider and standing to the side. Your brothers entering your home; it smells a lot like you. You shut the door behind them, your cat seeing your brothers and instantly stretching and walk towards you. 
Jumping up in your arms, your cat stares his sharp glaring eyes towards your brothers as if he was warning them.
Your brothers seemed unsettled as they sit down, they’re not prepared for the talk ahead of them. They don’t expertise in the subject of feelings and relating to others, but if it means to keep you around longer.
It’s something worthwhile to do.
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tiens-letters · 3 years
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upon autumns day, where you and I met. upon autumns day where I remember all of what we were before youve passed. and upon autumns day would I have ever so slowly let go of that pain of the past
zhongli (angst)
@albeidoof its somewhere here hehehe
Time was a luxury. A treasure each and everything holds.
Yet time is a curse as well. It covets, devours and leaves. which humanity neglects to cherish until the heart ceases its steady rythmn, only then do they regret of the wasted minutes, hours and seconds.
Beneath the flow of the rushing waves of things that have come and gone. Only on this particular day would he sit beneath a certain tree. The rough bark brushing up against his back as leaves fell effortlessly to the ground, as if it were ready to let go of from the branches that gave birth to it, only to return once again to the waiting soil.
It was a sunny afternoon, clear of any clouds and only clear unblemished blue, a good time to enjoy a warm cup of tea yet there was no energy in his bones to even move from where he was.
He felt exhausted. Desultory even.
Gone were the halcyon days of the past, and now the present time of the vivid reality he had to face.
Morax, rex lapis, the geo archon. Names that weighted more than one could carry, memories that shackled his soul that lived for a thousand years on end, all but a stain that could never be washed away.
The breeze slowly danced in, playing with his hair softly, kissing his skin and welcoming him. It carried a hint of aromatic essence only he would know belongs to.
You.
He tried to desperately recount the days after youve left the face of the earth and yet he could not remember or did his mind not allow him to as if he did, it would bring him terrible and heavy consequences for an answer, one sane mind would never want to know.
Sighing, he sat back and recalled back the memories of you instead. When you were alive, warm and breathing in his arms. He remembers the way your eyes would shine brightly whenever he would be around, or the small sound of delight you would make when you have finished another one of the many interesting blends of tea youve done over the course of a week of mixing different flowers and tea leaves. Youve made up quite the fortune with this as your little hobby bloomed into a fully run business known across teyvat.
"Zhongli." he froze, youve never called him by his name ever since youve started getting close, it made him feal uneasy as he turned to look at you who stood by the doorway, a neutral look on your face.
"y-yes?" nervousness clawed at him as he racked his brain to what he couldve done for you to call his name like that, he couldnt think of any.
"I came back from the market and I heard youve made quite the generous payment. Why is that, I wonder?" he's done it again, that spending habit of his
"The price was reasonable for such a fine ceramic tea set, I dont seem to find why it shouldnt reflect its quality?" you sighed as you pointed towards the glass cupboard behind him
"You bought the same exact set a week ago, Zhongli. Thats why." having to realize his mistake after looking over the two identical set that on the shelf, he turned to apologize but only to see you missing from the doorway. Footsteps can be heard from the floorboards above him. You were upset.
After minutes of pacing in the living room, he finally mustered the courage to climb the stairs and enter your shared bedroom. A figure already under the sheets as the warm glow of the lamp illuminated your delicate features. The mattress sunk as he sat beside you, fingers brushing away the stray hair that fell on your face.
"Im still mad at you Zhongli." his hand flinched slightly at the way you called him
"I apologize. I seem to not have learned my lesson again. I would gladly return the set tomorrow."
"Its no use, they dont accept refunds." you replied without sparing a glance at him
"What can I do for you to forgive me then?"
"Just go to sleep, Zhongli." groaning you reached for the switch to shut the lamp off but a gentle grip stopped you, forcing you to look at his gloomy expression. Perhaps you went too far this time.
"Please stop calling me in that way. I dont like it." he whispers, drawing your palm to his lips, leaving small kisses upon it. He sure does know his way around your heart, no wonder why you could not stay mad at him.
"Just be mindful next time." you cursed yourself for being weak to his charms.
"I will." yet something was missing "Then can you call me as you did before?"
"Zhongli?" you could see the slight grimace in his face as you teased him
"Stop it." he kissed you without warning "Call me as you did before."
However, his lips didnt stop as they began to travel. From your cheeks to you forehead and then to your neck. Oh dear, he wasnt having any of your teasing.
"A-li." you giggled beneath him as he finally stopped and met your gaze
"Thats better."
He still remembers the faint smile that graced your lips whenever he would wake up next to you tangled in the same sheets. The softness of your skin on his calloused touch. Your lips melting his and your voice lulling his raging mind to peace.
Then everything changed when you drew blood that spilled from those lips he's kissed for a thousand times, painting a morbid image on the sheets. Anger and despair boiled inside of him once he learned of the secret youve kept. Zhongli was a calm and collected man all of the time except when he was with you.
Having to witness him at such a point felt as if his own spear was being driven right through his very chest. He held you in an arms width away, the panic and pain in his eyes increasing over the minute as he begged for you to explain why youve decided to lie about the flowers that bloomed in your lungs, the sickness youve inherited from your deceased mother, whose fate you soon would follow. You didnt want him to find out, not in this way.
He couldve done anything if he knew from the start but alas, you wanted to be cruel, thinking it was for the best. Until your symptoms persisted, a heavy reminder of the remaining distance of the string you have to walk on to reach the end. The heavy feeling in your chest started to worsen as cherry sweet liquid poured from your mouth.
Soon the once pristine sheets were stained in haunting crimson shades as you heaved and he watched in agony. If only he had the ability of what he once had back then, if only he could plant the seeds of the flowers from yours to his then he would, if only he hadnt met you one autumn evening
" please dont look at me like that. " you told him, cold hands caressing his cheeks, catching the streams of salty warm beads that fell freely from your darling's amber eyes.
"Im sorry. Im so sorry..." the last thing you wanted to see was this man to cry. The last thing you wanted to see was to see him relive the past tragic memories you promised to bring him out of
" my disease has nothing to do with you. In the end it was mine alone to handle. oh, you are far from that so please dont you ever blame yourself."
"How can I not? If I havent fallen so deep then you would experienced so much more in life, you couldve been happier if you met someone else. Yet you chose me and I couldnt give you anything, I--. " the words knotted up as he began to shake, hands holding yours as knuckles turned to white
You slapped him.
With all the strength youve gathered in that fading body of yours. The sound cutting the grieving sounds that spilled from him, soul and flesh alike.
"A-li, look at me. Do I look like someone whose unsatisfied with what youve given me? Did my smile ever fade when Im with you? Did your affections ever lack? Answer me." his watery gaze met yours, a torrent of emotions swimming in them
"No. Never." a soft smile was carved unto your lips
"My dear, youve given me all Ive ever wanted in this life and I regret nothing of it."
To him, you were the flower that bloomed at the highest peak of the mountain he's never reached and yet its petals voluntarily detached and fell down, making him the happiest as one thing he's admired was untouchable and now, lay softly in the palm of his hands. To cherish and to protect.
But of course, all things are evanescent.
The familiar feeling of soreness that wasnt supposed to be there rose, ebbed and flowed through his throat. He knew it all too well, it was after he woke from his week long slumber did he feel it along with what his ancient beating heart felt.
"You collapsed." the worried words of the qixing echoed in his head. He frantically got up but as soon as his feet touched the floor did his legs give out underneath him, what use was he in this sorry state. He was helped up and sat back on the edge of the bed.
He wanted to ask many things yet was unable to.
Ningguang spoke as if you were still breathing and was visiting her minutes ago with another one of your tea blends. "Dont worry and rest first, go to jueyun karst after. They will be waiting."
To where the adepti resides, who as well, favored you, that one soul among thousands of others. One to which they shared a few good memories with was allowed to slumber there in peace.
Zhongli found himself waking up to the sun setting in the horizon. Just like how youve gone and resurfaced back into his memories. It was time.
He stood up from where he sat, gloved hands brushing any dirt that clung to him as he made his way to where you slept.
The red bean that was planted by himself still remained, a token of his love for you. Picking one bead and placing it inside the hollow dice he brought along, completing another one of the similar handicraft he's made every visit.
The sun finally died and the moon began its reign. The small wisps of light gathered around before him, forming a blurry image.
It was then he felt at ease, he saw you smiling at him with all there is in the world. Your light seemed to dim a little, hinting the blessing the adepti gave was slowly diminishing. Soon your visits would cease and you were sure that by the end of the power spent, he wouldve let go of the torment that plagued him.
"A-li. Have you been well?" he knew what you meant
"Im letting go slowly my dear. Perhaps in time, I would learn breathe easily once again."
Longest yet lol. Hope yall liked it ehehe
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The Last Dragon
Below the read more I've posted 7 very small sections of a fic that is based on this beautiful and tragic fanvid. I got literal chills watching it. If you wanna sob over our queen and her son wanting to avenge his mother, give it a watch.
I don't think I'll ever go any further, as my writing had an unfortunate run in with a brick wall, which then toppled over it and crushed any urge to write the next bit.
It's not too terrible--though it could actually be total shit, I'm not known for my writing 😂--and it was just gonna gather dust on my laptop, so figured I might as well post it. This was one of my ways of dealing with that fucked up last season within the framework of the show. I dont believe this is Dany's end, and I loathe with every fiber of my being what happened to her and her found family. And after seeing that video, the idea of Drogon doing everything he could to avenge the mother he loved more than anything appealed to that anger inside me. So I'll understand if this isnt for everyone ❤
Chapter 1
Mother.
He flies, great black wings carrying them away.
Mother.
Sharp, massive claws curl in gently. Protectively.
Mother is gone.
The cold creeps, burning against his scales the way fire never has.
Mother don’t leave.
A whisper on the wind calls to him.
Mother it hurts.
East, it sighs. It smells of smoke, and fire. Hope.
He follows, wings beating faster.
They took you.
The rage flares, searing away the cold.
They killed you.
The heat of it bursts within him, scaled skin shaking with the strength of it.
Fire and blood.
Jaws stretch wide, and the air burns red with grief.
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Chapter 2
The sky bleeds red from the dying sun when Drogon reaches Volantis. The whisper that drew him there stops as he lands on an open balcony.
A woman stands before him, black hair and red robes flying up in the gust of wind from his wings. His claw gently opens, Mother’s cold body slowly sliding onto the hard stone.
Crimson, mournful eyes watch the red woman kneel by Mother, pale fingers hovering over her, not touching, for a long moment.
“I cannot bring her back, Drogon,” she murmurs, regretful.
He throws his head back, bellows fury and sadness into the sky. No, Mother, come back. I am alone.
A faint brush at the back of his mind--where Mother used to be, his brothers, the thoughts they shared together--grasps his attention. Makes him look back down at the red woman.
“I cannot give you back Daenerys Targaryen, but I can give you something else.”
His nostrils flair, and his head moves closer.
“I can give you the revenge you desire. As it stands, you may be able to raze the whole of the Seven Kingdoms, turn it all to ash, but that would not be what your mother wanted.”
Drogon growls, lips pulled up in a snarl. Sheep. All are sheep. Betrayed Mother. Killed Mother. No mercy.
She nods her head. Comprehends what he is unable to say out loud.
“Yes, they all betrayed Daenerys, took from her and killed her when her visions grew too great for their small minds. They could not grasp that the Mother of Dragons was above all a breaker of chains. She would have freed us all.”
She pauses, then continues, her voice hard. “They need to be punished. And they will be. But Daenerys’ dreams must be realized. Dragon’s Bay must remain free. The Dothraki cannot return to what they were, raping and pillaging. And the petty lords of Westeros must be laid low. Those who destroyed Daenerys must see their reigns come to an end not only by dragon fire, but by the unification of the people they have ground into the dust, unified against them.”
“A dragon has the power to do great things, but to lead men, to lead armies, that is the one thing you cannot do, Drogon. Not as you are. You must be more. And by the Lord of Light’s grace, you can become exactly what the people need.”
Drogon rumbles in frustration, steam billowing from between his sharp, clenched teeth. He doesn’t understand.
“Human, Drogon. You must become human.”
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Chapter 3
They take Mother, to clean her, he is told. Remove the dagger, her clothes. Wash the blood away.
The red woman directs him to fly from the balcony, down into an open courtyard below. A large fire pit rages with a towering flame. It warms him, feels like Mother’s hand caressing his scales.
Dragons cannot cry. A mournful moan makes his great neck tremble. Human. Perhaps he can cry when he is human.
People in red robes enter the courtyard, one after another, until they circle around Drogon. His tail twitches. Their closeness agitates him.
The red woman appears, crossing the circle to stand in front of the fire. Hatred fills him when he sees what is in her hands. The dagger stained with Mother’s blood. Coward. The coward’s dagger.
“I am sorry Drogon. It is a necessary piece of the ritual. Soon,” she soothes, “you will have all you need to begin your campaign against the traitors.”
Another voice brushes against that same place in his mind. That lonely place where Mother, Rhaegal, and Viserion once lived. Soon, it too promises.
The red woman turns her head, scans the other acolytes before catching Drogon’s eyes.
“Let us begin.”
Voices hum together in chant, and the sky is filled with an agonized roar.
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Chapter 4
Drogon.
He groans.
Drogon, my love.
Everything hurts.
You cannot sleep forever, my beautiful boy.
He moves his head slightly. Cringes at the sharp pain.
Wake up, Drogon.
Mother? Why does everything hurt so much?
It’s time.
The voice begins to fade. He reaches out a hand, slowly, to make it stay, and freezes. He has a hand. A human hand.
Fingers curl into his palm, and the nails scratch against his skin, bite into it. His legs scrape against the stone as he slowly stretches out one, then the other.
He can still feel the fire to the side of him; it feels heavier, pressing on his skin but it does not hurt his flesh.
What burns more painfully is the missing weight of his wings. No flight for him now.
Cold fingers brush his shoulder, curve sharply to hold him when he recoils.
“Drogon?”
He doesn’t like to be held, or touched, no one but Mother, and his brothers, but they are gone. Gone, gone, gone…
“Drogon! It is only me, Kinvara!” The voice finally penetrates, and he stops pulling away.
Allowing for her help, he rolls carefully onto his back. Sharp pebbles dig into his skin. No scales to protect him anymore.
He feels her fingers move to his face, tracing the human features. “Open your eyes Drogon. See what the Lord of Light has gifted to you.”
Gift? No gift. Just more pain. Weakness. But he opens his eyes. The fire from the pit is soothing, warm. Warmer than...before. Would it burn him? His hand flinches towards it but he’s not close enough to touch.
He turns his eyes toward Kinvara. She is smiling, eyes reflecting the fire’s light.
She waves a hand towards an acolyte. “Bring me a robe. We must cover our dragon prince.”
Red cloth is laid over him, and two other acolytes help Drogon to sit. They hold him up as the other wraps the robe around him more securely.
Drogon grits his teeth, blood rushing angry and hot.
He tries to talk, mouth struggling to form the human words. “W-We—” He growls, tries again. “W-Weak.”
“For now,” she says. “But you will grow stronger, I promise you.”
Drogon struggles to stay awake, but bone deep exhaustion pulls at him, and his frustration wanes as he slips into slumber.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 5
Four moons pass before Drogon is ready to set sail for Meereen. He was like a hatchling again, unsteady, vulnerable, and he hated it. Kinvara and her priests taught him the ways of his new body, how to eat and walk, to read their words.
Coarse fabric to wear instead of steely scales.
But now it is time. Time to search out Grey Worm. Daario. The Unsullied and Dothraki. Train with them and become stronger. Much stronger.
He knew how to fight as a dragon. Armies and castles were nothing against the heat of his fire. He must learn how to wage war as humans do.
Wrapped in a red cloak, hood hanging low over his face, Drogon is ready to begin.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 6
They are waiting for him at the dock after the sun has set, Grey Worm and Mother’s sellsword, two silent figures who do not move, do not speak until Drogon stands before them.
Daario breaks the silence first. “Drogon?”
He pulls back his hood, unnaturally crimson eyes in a human face flashing in the near dark.
Daario sucks in a breath, then huffs out a laugh. “If the red priests had not sent word ahead, I may not have believed it. But by the gods, here you stand.” He reaches out an arm for Drogon to clasp.
He does so, hesitantly, but with a firm grip. Human greetings still puzzle him.
Grey Worm steps closer then kneels, bows his head bowed, fist pressed against his chest. “Ñuha dārilaros. Bisy qringaomatan īlva dāria. Īlon emagon ossēntan se nāpāstre skoriot pōnta iōrtan (My prince. This one failed our Queen. We should have killed the traitors where they stood.).”
Drogon does not know if he is asking for forgiveness or absolution.
Dragons have no real concept of forgiveness. He should be angry the traitors were allowed to live. But Grey Worm is kin, as the little scribe had been. Mother’s old bear too, and the white-haired knight. Everyone who had been under Mother’s protection, had been under her children’s protection as well. And would continue to be.
“Rise, Grey Worm.” His voice is rough and sharp edged, and it seems to startle the two men to hear him speak. “Those that hurt Mother, that used her and took her life will be punished as they deserve. But I need your help. So rise. Let us repay them with fire and blood. For Mother. For Missandei. For them all.”
He holds out a hand, waits.
Grey Worm looks up, eyes bright with unshed tears. His lips tremble, then firm. He takes Drogon’s hand.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 7
They convene in Mother’s chambers, the map room he would never have been able to fit in before almost cavernous to him now.
Spread out around the table, the three men pull together a plan as they look down at the map.
First, they will weed out the opposition in Essos, solidify their hold in the east. Astapor, Yunkai, they will all come to heel, every slave freed. They would be as clever as Mother had been, keep the number of innocents lost as low as they could. Drogon would prefer to burn through the Good Masters, snap them up and tear them apart, but for Mother, he would be patient, and take the slower path. All the slavers would still die, and their victims would live, and live free.
But for what Drogon had planned, he needed steel in place of claws, armor instead of dragonhide. He needed Grey Worm and Daario to make him as fearsome as a human as he’d been as a dragon. And that would take time.
He ground his blunted teeth together; he hated waiting. Hated it. But let the traitors think they were safe for a while longer. It would be all the sweeter when he ripped that feeling of safety away, just as they ripped Mother away from him. His brothers. His home.
They would feel his pain. And then they would feel nothing at all.
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pokefanclaire · 3 years
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London Tourist
Hello! I’m so new to this but I have another Lucifendi ship fanfic (don’t judge me too harshly) Also I don’t own any rights to the game, or characters its purely my weird thoughts. So this one is about a visiter that will come to London, and the Commissioner has asked Lucy to be his tour guide but Alfendi gets jealous and mutual pining happens. Pretty tame but please let me know what I'm doing as its all so new! Any advice would be greatly recieved.
London Tourist:
Lucy quietly knocked onto the commissioners office door startling him from an unexpected evening nap.
“Ah Lucy my dear, take a seat. Thank you for coming to see me at such short notice. The matter I want to share with you is of a personal nature. So please excuse that I have chosen you specifically”
Lucy suddenly felt uneasy.
“I have a friend, a very dear friend of mine who’s son will be coming to London for a few days and I was hoping you would be kind enough to show him around London. Inspector Layton will be able to maintain the cases for you while you’re away. I would like you to do this as a favour to me personally so all expenses will be covered by me. Is that clear my dear. I have had my assistant book tickets for some interesting plays, tours and visits that I believe will interest a couple of like minded youths as yourselves?”
“sounds grand sir”
she beamed at the commissioner thankful her unease was unwarranted.
“His name is Eric, he is your age I believe possibly a year older. I’m certain you’ll get along very well. He will be a calm and welcome change from your changeable mentor.”
“I look forward to meeting ‘im”
Lucy felt very proud that out of all her colleagues she had been chosen to show the commissioners dear friend’s son around London.
“thank you Lucy, that will be everything. And I thank you for rising to the challenge of tour guide” He chuckled as Lucy skipped toward to door. ‘What a sweet and generous girl’.
“Night Commissioner! Thanks agai’”
“Good night.”
Lucy ran back to the Mystery room hoping her mentor would still be around to hear her ‘mission’. Opening the door Lucy was greeted by an exhausted placid Prof stretched out on the sofa with case files scattering the dimly lit room
“Lucy dear! You’re still here.”
“I’ve jus’ finished speaking with th’ commissioner”
“ah yes, of course. Sorry Lucy I momentarily lost track of myself. Are you about to embark on a solo mission? Can you tell me any details or is it on a need to know basis?”
Alfendi chuckled toward Lucy, adoring the pride on her face.
“oh it’s nowt like that Prof, its a personal favour the commissioner would like me to do for his good friend. He wants me to take care of his friend’s son while he visits London”
Alfendis eyes shot up to meet hers “He?”
“yea, some lad a similar age to me. Eric I think it wer’”
“…and…. you said yes?”
“’course Prof, I cant let him down. Besides I don’ have no reason to turn him down”
“……. oh”
“you can ‘elp if you like? You know London better than anyone ‘ere at Scotland yard. I still feel like a tourist”
“...doubt he’ll want to see the London eye once he sets eyes on you dear Lucy...” his voice suddenly sounded bitter as a streak of crimson hair washed over his head.
“Um hi Potty, I wasn’t expecting you this late in the evening”
Alfendi’s eyes were hidden under crimson dishevelled hair making it hard to read his expression but a smirk pulled at the edge of his smile.
“Just fine my dear Lucy, and yes I would be thrilled to guide you when my schedule allows. In fact i’m quite free now”
“We can wait for Eric. He will arrive tomorrow afternoon some time, and I have ‘is number here”
Potty Prof strode toward Lucy unexpectedly grabbing her wrists.
“In that case, now is the very best time to show you the city before any corruption. Don’t you agree dear Baker?”
His grip worsened on her now pink wrists. Before she could register the twinge of pain, Alfendi had pulled her forward sending her tumbling into his chest.
“Clumsy girl” he sneered. “falling for me are you my dear Lucy?”
Lucy looked up, unable to process the last few exchange of words.
“sto’ messin’ with me Potty”
Alfendi towered over her, a streak of red flashed across his cheeks as he crouched to meet her eyes.
“I haven't started yet my dear, now please collect your belongings. I really must show you what London can do to you before Eric has the chance”
‘Did I hear that ‘ight? Is he jealous of some lad I haven't even met seeing London wi’ me?’ Lucy had never seen her mentor like this. Lucy had regular run ins with Potty Prof, that wasn't new. But she was sure he had some new found venom in his voice while pronouncing his name too...
Lucy struggled to keep up with Alfendi’s new speed and determination to leave the mystery room.
“Baker! Come on!”
a desperate sounding Alfendi held his hand out to take Lucy’s. Pulling her from the room he fumbled with keys, hastily locking the Mystery room.
“I’ll get the commissioner for this.. I swear….” he snarled under her breath to no one in particular.
Alfendi took a deep breath “Lucy dear….” He held out a slightly trembling hand to her “….please allow me to…show you….what i’ve longed to… for some time… but if I can just....” He stumbled as flashes of burgundy replaced the crimson red of his hair “.. accompany you this evening” he finished by kissing the back of her hand.
“Prof? Are ya ok?”
“Yes dear, I just wish I had more time than fate has decided to grant me, more time so that… I could show you both sides.. and how… he is all bark.. he wouldn't hurt her....”
Alfendi’s train of conversation trailed off as he began muttering to himself. Or his other side she thought.
“prof if ya sure its not an inconvenience. Then lets go! Where first?”
Splashes of red and dishevelled hair gave Lucy a small jump.
“oh hi Potty! Where to first?”
“Baker, dear Baker...” He whispered in a sultry tone forcing her to take a step backwards.
“Why don’t we start here?”
Alfendi increased his steps toward Lucy.
Lucy instinctively stepped back matching his speed knowing how unpredictable Potty could be. Her wrists let out a twang of pain reminding her of his last practical joke on her. ‘You’re tougher than this Lucy lass’ she encouraged herself ‘He’s your Prof, he wont ‘urt you’ she glanced left and right in blind panic looking for an escape. Alfendi cupped her chin with his hand bringing her wide eyes to meet his. ‘Don’t panic’ Lucy thought as she acknowledged Pottys hand on her chin, softer and gentler than she expected. A rush of heat rose to her cheeks as she breathed in that familiar scent of her beloved Prof ‘Why now Potty? always keeping me on my toes’ an audible groaned slipped past her lips as she felt his heated breath against her lips
“Potty?...”
She took a step back to gain some distance.
THUD.
Lucy’s back met with the wall.
“yes dear?….”
Alfendis hand slid down her chin, caressing the soft skin of her neck.
“you know Baker, I wanted more time… This little situation with Eric has meant I have had to adapt to time constraints” he took a final step closer to Lucy closing the distance between them
“…..will you forgive me if I act at all un-gentelmanly under these circumstances….”
He lowered his hands to meet hers, lifting them above her head in one fast and smooth motion.
“….Prof? What’ got into ya all sudden like”
Lucy’s hands struggled against Alfendi’s but he was taller, stronger and currently sporting his darker persona.
“this aint some time to joke ya kno’ Prof ya said ya were gonna show me London before Eric arrives”
Alfendi leaned into her neck, his breath uneven and franticagainst her ear.
All the hair on the back of her neck rose as waves of electricity seemed to shoot down from her now numb arms held above her head. The comforting smell of Alfendi filled her head and she bit down on her bottom lip letting out a small squeal.
“I said i’d show you what I… I mean London can do to you..”
“Please Prof my arms.. they hurt a little”
Crimson hair flashedto deep burgundy as he let go on Lucy’s arms.
“Lucy, please forgive me, are you in pain? Are you okay.. please forgive me...us?”
Alfendi nuzzled his face into her neck not wishing to meet her eyes and confirm what he already knew.. that he had blown any future chance with his sweet Lucy. he spoke softly. 
“Please Lucy, its me I wont hurt you. I’m so sorry”
“Prof...”
“Lucy?”
Alfendi took a cautious step back and forced himself to meet with her rubyred eyes. Lucy stared into the Prof’s soft amber eyes, taking in the look of embarrassment and hurt that marked his face.
Alfendi scanned her face in a panic searching for clues to her expression was she upset? Scared? no. thats not it. A soft glow of red spread across her cheeks intensifying the ruby red of her beautiful eyes.
“Prof, my ‘ands were numb is all. Dont fret, I aint hurt”
Alfendi studied her face with desperate closeness causing Lucy to blush brighter with fresh heat flooding to her cheeks
“Prof please...”
she stifled a moan by biting down on her own lip wincing.
“Lucy dear…I cant begin to…”
“Prof’.Al......”She paused “Alfendi. I was never in any danger..not from you.”
An unfamiliar serious expression marked Lucy’s sweet face as she matched Alfendi’s closeness causing him to take a step back.
“wasn’t there something important you wanted to do to me Alfendi...?”
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whumpingcrow · 3 years
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Pt.21 "The 'Welcome Home' Committee"
CW: nightmares/PTSD/flashbacks, dehumanizing language/themes, collar mention, aftermath of emotional abuse/gaslighting, tourettes/ticcing, self deprecating whumpee, drugs/alcohol (explicit), discussion of past noncon/dubcon, whumpee expecting noncon/dubcon, injury/blood mention, brief sensory deprivation mention, food mention (let me know if I missed anything!)
Tyson was holding Elias close against him in their shared bed, mind almost entirely occupied with the thought of how happy he was that Elias was home safe. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like he was enjoying the way Tyson was stroking down his back gently, his body arching into the touch. Tyson watched with interest, trying to tell if he was aware of his reaction, if he was asleep. It didn't matter, he decided, he had his Elias in his arms, twitching and stirring and alive, so it didn't matter if he was awake and aware or not. Tyson was observing him closely for any signs of a nightmare just in case he was asleep, but the last time he saw him have one it wasn't evident until he woke up, gasping and searching the dark for a threat, so he was sure he wouldn't be able to tell until it was too late. When he wasn't keeping a watchful eye on Elias, he shifted his focus between the bedroom door and the window, paying extra close attention to any car or person that passed by.
Tyson was ready this time, the doors were locked and the hall light was on, he had a baseball bat hung up on the door. Elias had to feel safe, he would show him that it was ok to be home, that Tyson really wasn't going to let anything bad happen to him, not again.
Still, even with all of the new safety precautions, it wasn't too long after the sun started to rise that Elias bolted out of Tyson's arms and out of bed, his shoulders hitting the wall hard as he stumbled into the corner.
"No! No, no, no! Please God, please!" He cried, arms wrapped around his shaking body as he slowly slid down to the floor, anguished sobs retching him forward. "I'll be g-good! I'll be good!"
"Elias!" Tyson rushed, hopping out of bed and approaching him carefully. "It's ok, you're ok!"
"I told them no! P-please, don't h-hurt me please!!" He had his eyes squeezed shut, arms pulling his legs to his chest to protect his body. Tyson watched him flinch away from injuring hands that were only there in his imagination. Tyson hadn't even tried to touch him yet. "I swear I'll be better!"
"Baby, listen to me," he tried, dropping his voice low to try and counteract Elias's hysteria, "it's me, it's Tyson. No one's gonna hurt you."
Elias shook his head furiously, ducking away further into the corner. He was sobbing and begging incoherently now, his panic manifesting into cries of "please, please d-dont, I'm so sorry, please!" and the like.
Tyson had an idea of what to say to try and calm Elias, but even thinking the words made him bitter. When Allen had first gotten back from August, Tyson and Leo had to adopt some of his heinous language in order to keep Allen calm. Tyson remembered how quickly it worked, how it could make Allen drop his hysteria in only moments. They used it only when they had exhausted all other options, because both Leo and Tyson were upset at how much it felt like speaking to a dog. But it was different with Elias, Tyson couldn't encourage him to stay in the same mindset he'd been forced into, so he wouldn't use the same language August used, he refused to. He tried again, in his own way. "Eli, everything's ok. Look at me, please."
"I c-c-cant!" He sobbed again, thrown back into hysterics. "I won't, August! I'll be good!"
Tyson wanted to put a hole through the wall. Fucking August. He broke Elias, he made him unable to sleep through the night, made him too scared to remember Tyson. It was repulsive, to see the aftermath of such a monster on the person he loved. He thought back to Allen, how fast he was able to calm down at those two, dangerously sweet words. But would Elias even react the same? What if it just made it worse? All of those fears and more ran rampant through his head, but he was running out of options, and Elias wasn't calming down, so he really didn't have another choice.
"Angel," he murmured, extending his hand slowly, trying to coax him to open up a bit, "you're alright. You're...you're a good boy, Eli."
It worked like a charm, and Tyson cringed at the effectiveness. Elias relaxed, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward. He looked so scared still, head turned to the side so he wasn't looking at Tyson, inching out of the corner slowly. His ragged breathing was evening out a little at a time. "I...I...?"
"Yeah, there you go. Good." He smiled softly at Elias in the pale blue morning sun, moving to lean against the wall with him. He was relieved when Elias rested his head against his shoulder, sighing deeply as he did. Tyson looped his fingers around his thigh, squeezing gently. "I've got you, darling."
Elias whimpered, ticcing in small twitches against Tyson. "I'm s-sorry." He breathed, muted by his guilt, barely audible.
"No, don't be, Elias. Are you ok now? Are you back with me?"
"I think so." As he spoke, he turned to look up at Tyson, blinking hard to clear the tears from his eyes. "Hm...Ty." He breathed. "My Tyson."
"Yeah. Yeah, love, that's right." He searched Elias's face for a moment, taking in the remnants of fear leftover from his nightmare. "Do you...you wanna talk about it?"
Elias didn't say anything for a long time, looking away from Tyson and instead out the window as he pondered the question. It was windy, the palm trees just outside were swaying against the breeze. He realized that it must've been early morning, and a twinge of guilt for waking Tyson up like that hit him. He didn't know if he wanted to talk about it, about August or the strangers or the pain. But Tyson deserved to know, and he was asking like maybe he wanted to hear what happened. So Elias turned his attention back to Tyson and started talking.
"I don't understand what I did wrong. I don't know why he stopped… pretending to care about me." The weight of the sentence made him feel tired all over again, and he was frightened to be admitting to his confusion. He was an idiot, to not even know what he did to be punished. He knew that it was well deserved, but that's about where the understanding stopped. "I mean...I know I messed up somehow, but I can't remember what I did. He just stopped c-caring."
"You didn't do anything, Eli. It was all him."
"No...Ty, he cared about me, at least a little. He went through all that trouble to...how could I not be good enough for him? What does that say about me?"
"It says that you're too good for a scumbag like that. Maybe he just finally realized that."
Elias froze. He didn't believe it, of course, but the words made something glimmer behind his tears. "Too...too good?"
"Yes, love," Tyson cooed softly, taking his hand, "he knew that people like him don't deserve good people like you. He must've just dropped the facade."
"So who am I...Am I good enough for you? Not too good?" His voice was desperate, borderline hopeful, if Tyson dared to believe that.
"Mhm. You're perfect." He chuckled softly, squeezing his hand ever so gently. "And I want you so badly. Good or not."
Elias finally broke a smile, a genuine, almost carefree, grin as he looked up at Tyson in adoration. He was still shaking, but his breathing was back to normal and he felt more grounded. Usually August would force him to ride out the fear from the nightmares on his own, then punish him later for keeping him awake with his whimpering. "Sorry I woke you up like that." He added it, just for good measure, because Tyson didn't hurt him, he wouldn't, but he was still nervous. He wondered when that would stop.
"You didn't, baby. Besides, it's morning anyway." He stood up, pulling Elias up with him. "Also uh...Allen's been asking about you. If you're ok with it he wanted to come check on you later."
"T...today?" He mumbled, sinking back onto the mattress and watching Tyson pick a shirt out from the closet.
"You can get settled in first, I don't want to overwhelm you-"
Elias could laugh. Settle in, what a joke. Ten months in France made this place he used to call home feel distant and strange, how could he possibly settle in? "Today's fine. I just wanna...wanna wake up and stuff first."
"You sure? You've only been home a day."
"I'm sure," he smiled at him to really sell it, and Tyson nodded approvingly.
Elias washed the dishes as they waited for Allen to show up, Tyson was tidying up in the other room. Supposedly Leo was coming too, and Elias was heavy with fear. He'd be sent away before they got there, surely, given substances to shut him up. Or maybe Tyson would allow Elias to be used, maybe he'd watch.
Elias was afraid at the dreadful excitement he felt at the idea. He was sick to his stomach with anxiety at the possibility of something like that happening, but he couldn't see past the obsessive need to be touched, to be used. He finished the dishes, ducking off to the bathroom to make sure he looked ok. His pale hair curled into small waves in front of his face, it felt unnatural to not find any dried blood in it. His wide eyes and flushed face were still tainted with injuries, but there was nothing he could do about it besides wait for them to heal. Besides, the people who used him usually liked him bruised up anyways, they usually kissed his injuries with patronizing softness or pressed on his bruises to watch him squirm. He fixed his shirt, then realized all at once that he was too sober for this, that he couldn't be used this aware. Couldn't be good. He began to frantically search through the cabinets for anything that might make him feel better, pills or even mouthwash. His eyes fell onto a pill bottle on the top shelf of the mirror, his hands fumbled over it quickly. Tiny, colorful pills spilled into his hands, it was recognizably molly. He didn't know why Tyson had it, but it was August's favorite to give Elias, and so he knew it well. He threw two pills back, chasing them with water from the sink, and then returned the bottle back to its spot. After he started to feel it just a little, he looked back into the mirror and fixed himself up a little more, forcing a smile at his reflection, just to see how it looked. Something was off, he didn't look right, he was worried that if he looked anything less than what he was used to, he would fall apart. The ground dropped from under him just a little when he realized what it was: his bare neck. He needed his collar, people were coming, he had to have it. Fucking stupid, he thought, spent months wishing you could take that thing off and now you suddenly want it again? Stupid fucking idiot.
In one of the drawers he found a silver chain, he inspected the little pendant dangling on the end, at the way the blue jewel in the middle caught the light when he turned it. He almost wanted to put it back, it was too nice for him, but he decided that it was better than nothing. He slipped it over his head, it was loose, but it would work fine. He looked so much better already.
"Elias, you ok in there?" Tyson was asking from the hallway. His voice was tight with anxiety and Elias instantly reached for the door handle and stepped out.
"I'm ok," he smiled at him, his grin lopsided so that his chipped tooth was showing just a little. "I was just getting ready."
Tyson tilted his head at him, smiling softly. "You look nice. How do you feel?"
Elias offered a lighthearted shrug, shuffling forward and standing up on his toes to kiss Tyson's nose softly. "M'ok. I cleaned the kitchen."
"I saw!" He took Elias's hand in his own and pulled him closer. "Thank you, for that. Very helpful."
Elias beamed at the praise, and Tyson was reminded again of Allen, how he lit up like a damn Christmas tree when someone said anything close to a compliment or approval, and it was quickly becoming evident that Elias was going to be the same. It was disgustingly cute how reactive they both were, how their lips twitched into a sick smile, their eyes fluttered helplessly. So beautiful, so tragic. He got this way through horrible mistreatment and brainwashing violence, but he looked so genuinely ecstatic that Tyson wasn't sure if he ever wanted to stop.
"Uh...they're waiting outside. We can let them in when you feel ready."
Elias took a breath, forcing himself to nod. He reminded himself to keep his composure, allow himself to be movable and soft and pretty. He was trembling all over, in excitement or fear he wasn't sure. Tyson rubbed his shoulder gently, still giving him a moment. When Elias finally seemed to come to terms with being around other people, he looked nervous all over again, but this time with a hint of eagerness behind his eyes. Tyson wondered how often he was allowed to see other people when he was with August. He said that August had kept him hidden away, but what exactly did that entail? When Allen was with him, he came back not used to light or sound because August had been keeping him depraved of those luxuries. Elias didn't seem like that though, he just seemed...skittish, too vigilant and too self hating to be around others. He spoke and carried himself like he knew he was less than them, and it bothered him just to be near them. And yet, at the same time, he looked exhilarated at the idea of putting himself into that position at any second. Finally, he looked up at Tyson with a wavering smile and nodded at him to tell him he was ready.
Allen looked way too good, Elias was completely baffled at how healed he seemed, like nothing had ever been wrong with him. How had he been with August and healed, how was he not broken forever? Elias didn't think he would ever be able to get there himself, all of this damage was irreversible, he couldn't imagine himself with a flushed, healthy face and a carefree grin. Or an ability to walk into a room with seemingly no issues or qualms, just existing. How could he do that?
He was also the first person to talk to Elias, which made him a little breathless at how unexpected it was. He stayed far enough away when he waved at him, politely saying "hey, Elias, how are you doing?"
Elias flinched, looking to Tyson for permission to speak, but he was given only a glance, and he was left confused and too scared to answer. Instead he just nodded his head once as a response. He looked down to see his knees were visibly wobbling, he didn't realize he was also squeezing his hands into tight fists at his sides. He couldn't force himself to relax, even though he wanted to, the molly in his system felt like metal in his veins, forcing him rigid and stiff.
Tyson quickly realized that Elias was more overwhelmed than he had hoped for, that all of his promises that he would be ok and he was sure they could come were quickly falling apart. He was standing so straight, like he'd collapse in on himself if he let his muscles relax at all. His legs were shaking with the effort of standing, Tyson wanted to scoop him up and hold him close to his chest, take away the strain of being upright, relieve him in any way he could.
"How are you settling in, pal?" Leo asked him, watching his head drop down instantly as he was addressed. He inched toward Tyson just a little, glancing up at him yet again. This time, Tyson caught his eye and realized what the look was about.
"It's ok," he whispered, rubbing his shoulder gently to reassure him, "it's alright, Eli, you can talk to them."
Elias was thankful for the permission to speak, he wanted to interact with them so bad he was buzzing, he wanted to speak to them and be heard and acknowledged. It had been so long since he'd been around people who understood him, who he could have conversation with. He worried for a split second that he might've forgotten how. "It's different. France is very different."
Leo chuckled at that, nodding his head. "Yeah, I would imagine. It's beautiful though, I hear."
Elias nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, the beach is my favorite."
Tyson was smiling at him, at how eager he was to speak, how even though he had been through hell there, he still found something beautiful in it. Elias had been trapped with August and made to do awful things that Tyson wasn't even sure the extent of yet, and still he had picked out a favorite place.
"Well I hope you didn't get too used to the food there, cause you'll have to deal with my cooking tonight." He smiled teasingly, and once Elias heard Tyson laughing, he realized it was a joke. Someone was joking with him, like an actual person. He smiled brightly at him, shaking his head.
He didn't have a response though, smiling at him seemed to be enough. Leo followed Tyson into the kitchen, leaving Allen and Elias to be alone in the living room. Allen had sat down on the couch, and Elias occasionally looked up from his spot in the center of the room, wondering if he was supposed to follow Ty. It seemed too late now, and besides, he knew in the back of his mind that he belonged here, to be observed as a centerpiece, touched if anyone felt the need for it. He wondered if, he hoped that, Allen felt the need for it. Or anyone at all, really.
"Wanna come sit with me, Elias?" Allen checked suddenly, watching as Elias straightened up to look at him, eyes wide. He quickly nodded before stumbling over to the couch, hesitating a moment before sinking down to the floor on his knees. Allen looked rather bewildered at the motion, his face flushed and mouth parted in surprise. The movement was familiar to Allen (August was consistent, he'd give him that), but it was shocking to see it from this perspective, made him want to push Elias out of the way and take his place. It took him a good thirty seconds to gather his thoughts, and when he did he felt sick to his stomach as he looked into Elias's fearful puppy dog eyes. "Oh...you don't have to..." He started to choke out.
Tyson froze when he came into the living room to see Elias like that, down on his knees with his head bowed pathetically, right in front of a flustered, uneasy looking Allen. They'd only been gone for five minutes, what had caused this? He may have grabbed Elias's shoulders a little too hard when he hoisted him back upright, causing a confused mewl to escape his throat.
"Don't sit down there like that, Eli," he scolded, "you sit on the couch, like everyone else."
"B...but I..." Elias shook his head in weak protest before shutting himself up, cringing at the stern look on Tyson's face. He was frustrated, if they wanted him on the couch why didn't they say so? Why did they want to confuse him so much? Was it to make him fail, make him easier to punish?
Tyson nodded at him once, turning and making his way reluctantly back to the kitchen. Elias huffed to himself, his shoulders drooping sadly.
"Hey," Allen said softly, grabbing his thigh gently, "it's ok. I remember when I got back I didn't use furniture for weeks. Tyson knows better now, he won't let you do that."
Elias looked at the hand on his leg. Thank God, he thought. He smiled softly at Allen, nodding along to his voice. So that was it, then, Tyson wanted him on the couch. He could look pretty on the couch, August sometimes enjoyed that.
"I know Tyson can get a little...upset, sometimes, but he means well. He just gets discouraged when he can't help."
Elias nodded eagerly again, eyes still on Allen's hand on him. Was his hand tight, or was he just imagining it? It was warm, it fit comfortably around him, and Elias found himself leaning against his arm in response to it. "Thank you," he whispered, "you've always been so kind to me."
"Well of course. What you're going through it's...well, kindness is definitely something you could use right now." Allen was smiling at him, in a way that no one had smiled at him in a long time. It was pure and friendly, not malicious or dangerous or full of lust. It was foreign, it made his chest feel hollow and sad. He didn't deserve to be looked at with such fondness. He would have ran and hid, if the smile didn't also make him feel so nice and warm all over. That made him even more upset, he didn't want to like it, not when he wasn't supposed to be receiving it in the first place. That was like enjoying a gift that had someone else's name on it, and he felt guilty for it.
Allen must've noticed his anxiety, and he pulled his hand away slowly, fingers slipping off his leg one at a time. Elias looked away from him entirely. He wanted to be back on the floor, he wanted his collar, he wanted to be hurt or touched, he wanted to be higher than he was. Most of all, he wanted to know what the hell everyone around here was expecting of him. August had rules, and even outside of those rules, Elias had gotten pretty good at reading his body language so he could guess what August wanted from him. Here was so different, he didn't know what was and wasn't allowed, he didn't know what Allen wanted from him when he grabbed his leg, or what Tyson wanted when he randomly left the room without a word to him. It was all so jumbled, made Elias feel so lost. The molly made it easier for Elias to speak, to listen, but he was still miserable and confused.
"What's wrong, Elias?" Allen asked in a hushed voice, like their conversation was ultra secret, like Leo and Tyson weren't allowed to know that it was taking place.
"It's just hard." He whispered back, folding his hands neatly in his lap. "I don't know what anyone wants anymore. When I try to guess I just look fu-fucking stupid. It's confusing."
"Have you tried asking?"
Elias gawked up at him, like the idea was bizarre. "Asking...?"
"Yeah. If you're not sure, just ask." He said this like it was simple, it couldn't go wrong. "Try it, ask me what I want."
Elias blinked at him, clearly bewildered. "Uh...wh-what do you...want?"
Allen smiled at him, nodding approvingly. "Right now, I want to sit on the couch and talk to you, and I also want dinner, but I'm waiting for it to be finished."
"O...oh." Elias breathed, looking back down at his hands. He guessed that was easy enough, the world didn't crumble around him. He couldn't hide his amazement, he couldn't believe Allen could easily say he wanted things, he must've not been taught that it was against the rules. Or maybe it was just something he outgrew, once he was away from August. Elias didn't think he'd ever outgrow it.
"What about you? What do you want?"
The confused, almost mangled, whimper Elias let out was telling enough, Allen wasn't supposed to ask him that. He was only just now realizing that it was ok to ask others that question, he obviously wasn't ready to answer it.
"Oh I don't... I c-cant..." He stammered, shaking his head vigorously. This was a test, one he could pass. He knew better than to say he wanted anything, he'd been proving that since he came back. He remembered when he accidentally begged Tyson to touch him, using the word 'need'. He must've told Allen, and now Allen was trying to get him to slip up again. He wouldn't, he would be good. He could be a mindless pet with no wants or needs.
"It's ok," Allen reassured him, his hand was on his thigh again, this time a little higher, "you don't have to answer. I get it."
Elias was breathless, he couldn't tell if it was from the question or Allen touching him, but he couldn't seem to breathe deep enough. He couldn't have wants, but still, the warm palm on his leg was enough to make him tremble. If he were allowed to want, he would want someone to lay him down and touch him everywhere, make him feel good because he hadn't felt good in so long, stroke his hair, call him 'good pet', call him 'bunny', tell him he was beautiful and perfect. If he were allowed to want, he would want that so bad it would make him cry.
"Shit, Elias, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Allen was rushing. Elias's cheeks were wet with his tears, his face was blank and sheet white. Tyson must've heard the commotion, and it wasn't long before he was in front of him, kneeling down to be at his level.
"Hey, Eli, what's going on, love?" He asked him gently, his hands on his shoulders. They weren't grabbing him as tightly now as when he put him on the couch. "Why are you crying?"
Elias wiped his face, shaking his head quickly. "I'm s-sorry!" He whined. "I don't know I j...just..."
Tyson shook his head dismissively, pulling Elias against his chest and rubbing his back. "It's ok. Everything's ok." Tyson held him close as his shoulders shook, allowing him to tire himself out a little. Once he seemed calm, Tyson pulled away from him, stroking his cheek gently as he did. At some point Allen had gotten up and left them alone in the room together, and Elias couldn't help but feel a little relaxed that he wasn't around to watch him fuck up any more. "You alright?"
Elias nodded, sniffling miserably. "I'm sorry."
"No worries, love. Go ahead and get cleaned up, dinner's done."
Elias obeyed instantly, standing up and heading to the bathroom wordlessly. He looked so rough around the edges, washed out from crying and in desperate need of an actual good nights sleep. He debated skipping dinner and going to lie down instead, but then he remembered how much he ached to talk to everyone, be around them, so he changed his mind. He never again wanted to be alone in a separate room when there were people around, it wasn't ever an enjoyable experience. Once he was decidedly more put together, he joined everyone back in the kitchen, setting himself in a chair between Tyson and Leo, mouth glued shut and eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him.
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yslkook · 3 years
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#risk averse (6)
#corporate masterlist
summary: the last day of being in tokyo consists of: workshops, breakfast, dinner, and an airplane ride back. oh, and you finally have some ice cream with jungkook. properly. word count: 5570 warnings: cursing, parental death, discussion of mental health, im not a psychologist so if what i write doesnt make sense dont @ me a/n: this is part 3/3 of being in tokyo!
TUESDAY
Tokyo is probably one of your favorite cities in the world, and yet you’re itching to get out as soon as you can. It’s the last day of the workshop kick-off meeting, and while you’ve enjoyed being back in this city and getting to know new people… You’re exhausted. Your mind has been running on overdrive since Friday afternoon and now it was Tuesday. You’ve never been on for this long, but you suppose it comes with the territory.
Truthfully, you don’t mind the work. You mind Jungkook and how things are still in a strange state of limbo with him. The memory of Saturday night still plagues you and the fact that you still haven’t talked to him pokes at you like a barbed wire.
You scratch your chin, masking your invisible spiral. Jungkook and Sana have set up breakfast for the team in the conference room, complete with steamed rice, fried egg, fruit miso soup, coffee and pastries. You eye the pastries with a gratuitous lick of your lips, your sudden sweet tooth making an appearance. That chocolate cornet in the small basket next to the sweet rolls is calling your name.
You focus on the decadent taste of chocolate rolling over your tongue paired with coffee rather than the anxiety you feel over leaving things between you and Jungkook in limbo. 
A shadow casts over your plate next to you and when you turn your head, you’re surprised to see Mark take a seat next to you.
“Morning,” He chirps, “Your guys did a good job with breakfast, huh?”
“They did a good job with everything, Mark. As they always do,” You say fiercely, with a quirk of your eyebrow, “And good morning to you, too.”
“This week went by fast, huh?” Mark says, taking a sip of his own coffee. Yeah, not fast enough.
Today’s workshop was mainly to finalize the project plan, assign subteams, and deliverables. And to determine when the next workshop would be- Namjoon had suggested that the Tokyo team come to Seoul next time. Which you had wholeheartedly supported. Mark had let his eyes slide over to you, catching your eye and smiling at you. Maybe he’d be able to see you outside of work in Seoul.
You had smiled back, a little obliviously.
And now, you stand up next to the whiteboard to write down your smaller sub teams and your deliverables as Namjoon reads from his notes. For everyone to be able to visualize. You were a firm believer in visual aids.
And so was Jungkook- after all, the way your plaid pencil skirt sits on your ass and hugs your hips is quite the visual. He lazily allows his eyes to roam your backside, enjoying the way your skirt moves with every small movement. Your sleeveless blouse is tucked into your skirt, leaving a hint of your tattoo poking out from the thin exposure of your shoulder. Your beige blazer neatly hangs off of the headrest of your chair. Jungkook counts his blessings, watching every inch of your tanned, inked skin as you continue to write on the board.
Namjoon and Mark spend the rest of the morning outlining expectations and brainstorming for the first deliverable. You challenge them sharply, not afraid to voice your thoughts when you don’t agree with them. 
Irene and Lisa look on with awestruck eyes, chiming in when they feel necessary. You have this way about you, Jungkook thinks. That when you speak, people just listen and people want to be heard by you. Your voice is magnetic, your eyes dark and fierce and he wants to know them. He wants to peel you back layer by layer, if you’d let him.
Not for the first time, he wonders if you have any other tattoos hiding under your meticulously crafted layers.
You catch Jungkook’s lazy gaze, shooting him a small smile. Jungkook swallows and reciprocates. He leans back in his chair, still not taking his eyes off of you. You maintain his gaze, feeling your cheeks heating up at the intensity of his stare. He unwraps you with his eyes, as if you’re a present wrapped up all pretty just for him. Dark brown eyes dart from your face to your neck to your hands back up to your lips. A smirk ghosts his face, but it passes as quickly as it comes. 
You can play fire with fire, too. Something bold blazes in your own eyes, your tongue poking out to lick your bottom lip as you check him out in the same unabashed way that he had been checking you out only moments before.
This time, Jungkook is the one feeling a little heated under his collar. Mark’s voice pierces through the air, pulling you both out of your rose-tinted bubble and you both plaster your obedient gazes to Mark.
The moment dissolves with the sound of Mark’s voice- has it always been that annoying? Or was it only that annoying because Jungkook can see the barely hidden heart eyes he throws you when he makes eye contact with you?
Why does it matter? Because he likes you, and the epiphany doesn’t hit Jungkook like an unseen collision. It washes over him in soft, gentle waves. Comforting him and wrapping around him warmly, only lending him the courage to slide his eyes over to you once again.
His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in annoyance. Annoyance that you’ve wiggled your way into the crevices in between his veins and he is powerless to stop it.
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The rest of the afternoon goes by just about the same, with lunch from the cafeteria and finishing up your plan of deliverables. You’re thankful that the day is coming to a close- these workshops are taking a toll out of you, needless to say.
You stretch your arms, opting to stand rather than sit. You hate how your ass goes numb after hours of sitting.
Jungkook doesn’t mind. It gives him a wonderful view of the slope of your chest that he has no qualms appreciating. You catch him a few times, obliviously giving him a small smile or a nod of appreciation.
It makes Jungkook wonder if you even know how pretty you are. If anyone’s ever told you that you were beautiful, with all of the conviction that you deserve.
You scribble in your notebook while leaning against the windowsill as a surface, your brows furrowed together in concentration as Namjoon and Mark speak. You resist the urge to yawn. What time is your flight again?
Namjoon had requested that your flights be at 4 AM on Wednesday morning, so that you could go straight into work. That was the tradeoff for giving the team the extra day in Tokyo. At the time, it sounded like a nice idea. Now, the thought of a 4 AM flight makes you want to keel over.
You start to drown out their voices, instead making a mental checklist of what you needed to do before leaving for the airport tomorrow morning. Call Grandma, pack your suitcase, arrange your makeup, leave your sweats for the morning out, text your therapist for an appointment when you returned to Seoul… 
You’re lost in your thoughts, chewing intently on your bottom lip and absently picking at your cuticles every so often. Mark’s voice cuts through the air again, finally dismissing you.
“It was great seeing all of you,” Mark says, his eyes lingering on you for a second too long.
“Yeah, we’ll be in Seoul soon. You’ll have to show us all the best places to eat,” Irene winks at you.
“Yeah,” You chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck, “See you soon.”
You exchange handshakes with them, with promises from Minhyuk and Lisa that they’ll set up biweekly calls for the Seoul team to have touchpoints with the Tokyo team. Namjoon nods in appreciation.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Mark squeezes your hand and pulls you a little closer by the grip of his handshake either.
Mark promises you, for your ears only, that he’ll text you when he gets to Seoul for the workshop. He asks if he can see you, maybe, if he can take you to that restaurant you had told him about. With the best seafood you’d ever had in your life.
You say yes, because you think nothing of it.
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The minute you got back to your hotel room, you took your makeup off, moisturized, sprawled out on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a good fifteen minutes. Then you changed into leggings and an oversized hoodie, one of Jin’s that you had stolen years ago.
You’re aware of your phone going off, likely the work group chat as well as Jin texting you. But you ignore it for now, instead closing your eyes and letting silence lull you to sleep.
You must have fallen asleep for a few hours- when you wake up, the moon is out and the sky is dark. You had likely slept through dinner.  Moonlight filters into your hotel room and you sigh, rubbing your eyes. 
What had woken you up? You hear the noise again, the sound of knuckles knocking gently against your hotel room door. With a soft groan, you rub your face and drag your feet to the door, not bothering to check the little peephole.
And you’re face to face with a nervous looking Jeon Jungkook, holding a bag in his hand. It smells great, mouthwatering, even.
“Hi,” You croak, clearing your throat of your post-sleep voice.
“Hey,” Jungkook says weakly, “We were texting you earlier for dinner but figured you’d fallen asleep or something. Looks like I was right.”
“Yeah, I accidentally fell asleep,” You murmur with a laugh, “You brought dinner for me?” You ask the question in wonder, as if it’s hard to believe.
“Uh huh,” Jungkook says, scratching the back of his neck, “Well, uh, here you go-”
You take the bag of food in your hands, enjoying the warmth that it radiates. You bite your lips in nervousness, suddenly deciding that you don’t want to have dinner alone. You hate having dinner alone.
“Jungkook,” You say softly, “Will you have dinner with me?”
Jungkook’s heart skips about five beats and he’s nodding at you with big, sparkling eyes. You’re floating, somewhere in the clouds when he looks at you like that. Jungkook thinks you’re pretty, with your messy hair and sleepy eyes. Whether you’re in a sharp pencil skirt and a blazer or in pajamas, he thinks you’re so pretty.
You welcome him inside, gesturing for him to get comfortable in your hotel room. You know you have so much still to talk about with him, to explain your actions from Saturday night. But neither of you can deny the company that comes with a meal. So you set some food aside for him, thanking him for thinking of you.
And you eat, knees knocking into each other as you talk softly with only the moon as witness of a blossoming friendship.
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WEDNESDAY MORNING
Jungkook doesn’t leave your mind all morning, from when you had woken yourself up at 1:30 AM and even now as you’re in line to board the airplane. Having dinner with him felt so nice and left you feel warm all over.
And now, a seed of relief settles in your belly, knowing that you’re seated far away from Jungkook. So that you can think about him in peace, and think about what you’ll say to him when you finally get the chance to. You could have apologized to him last night, but it just didn’t feel right. 
You can’t even see his fluffy head of hair from here. Maybe you’ll even be able to sleep a little, considering how on edge you’ve felt for the last four days. You’re exhausted.
Just as you’re about to close your eyes and rest your head on the window, someone taps your shoulder politely.
“Sorry to disturb,” The flight attendant says, sounding genuinely apologetic, “But I believe there was a seat mix up. We have a couple here requesting to be seated together. Would it be alright if we swap?”
You peer behind her to see an elderly couple. You sigh. “Of course, no problem.” You think nothing of it, heading to the seat that the attendant had requested you switch with, until you see a familiar fluffy haired man within your range of vision.
Of course. Because why wouldn’t the universe seat you next to Jeon Jungkook on this crowded plane? Of all the seats, of course you would be told to sit next to him.
“Um,” You say, waving at him a little nervously, “Hi. Is this seat taken?” You try to keep your voice light. He can probably pick up on the awkwardness.
“Oh! No,” Jungkook says quickly, standing up and hitting his head on the roof of the cramped plane. He winces and you suppress a laugh. “Let me put your suitcase up-”
“I got it, Jungkook,” You murmur, easily lifting the suitcase into the overhead compartment. Jungkook’s eyes immediately fall to the small sliver of your belly as you lift your arms above your head.
Taking a seat next to him, you try your best not to bounce your leg incessantly. Your bottom lip is lodged in between your teeth, as if you’re afraid to say the wrong thing.
“Ready to go back home?” Jungkook asks, desperate to alleviate the awkwardness in the air.
“Yeah, I always need an extra day off after traveling,” You reply, letting out an airy chuckle, “How about you?”
“Yeah, me too. And it’s only Wednesday, too. Can’t believe we still have to work.”
“That’s what’s shitty about leaving so early in the morning,” You yawn, “Still have plenty of time to work later in the day.”
Jungkook nods in agreement and yawns. The silence that falls between you both isn’t uncomfortable. It’s too early in the morning to contemplate it any further.
At some point, your eyes begin to close and you can’t stop the sudden wave of fatigue that washes over you. Fatigue from being anxious for the last four days. Somehow, around Jungkook, it dissipates slightly. Slightly enough for you to succumb to sleep. Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to shift when your head falls onto his shoulder. He wants to brush the hair out of your eyes but keeps his hands in his lap. His face is burning. 
A small smile graces his lips when you shift further, sink into his shoulder and wrap an arm around his upper arm. Jungkook pretends like his heart isn’t about to beat right out of his chest, especially when your nose is pressed against his shoulder and he can feel your soft, even breaths as you fall even further into sleep.
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Pillowy warmth surrounds you, gently tugging you back down to sleep. But the sound of the pilot over the intercoms forces you to open your eyes. A low groan leaves your lips, you want to bask in your newfound warmth for a little longer.
Wait. Where is this warmth coming from? You look up, seeing a head of dark hair brushing over your forehead.
Your heart immediately accelerates, slamming straight out of your ribcage.
Jungkook feels you shifting before he opens his eyes. You feel so warm, tucked into his side. Even if it’s uncomfortable for both of you, he likes the way your cheek presses into his arm and how he could feel your soft breaths against his neck. The soft groan that escapes your lips sounds like honey in his ears, his cheeks warming.
You have to resist the urge to push his hair back. At least he’s still asleep, you think. What a precarious position to be in. With your coworker who you have unfinished business with. What a cliche, you nearly scoff out loud.
But then you see his warm, doe eyes blinking up at you curiously and you panic. You yank your arm away from him, lifting your head up so quickly that he’s surprised you don’t get whiplash. 
“Sorry,” You mumble, “How incredibly inappropriate. ‘M sorry-”
Before he can reply, the pilot and flight attendant give the all clear that people can begin exiting the aircraft. You’re out of your seat in record speed, ignoring the heat and embarrassment in your cheeks as you nearly run over the elderly couple behind you to get your suitcase. 
It’s the second time you’ve made a fool out of yourself in front of Jungkook. The memory is seared into your brain as you struggle to hold back tears. You sprint out of the airport in record time, and into Jin’s waiting arms.
You’re breaking Jungkook’s heart and you don’t even know it.
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The minute you got home and settled in, you made an appointment with your therapist. You finally feel the edge of anxiety beginning to quell. But you’re exhausted, so exhausted. You contemplate taking a day off, but you don’t have a busy day at work today.
You opt to work from home once you let your boss know. Jin also decided to work from his apartment after picking you up. Maybe you can sneak a nap in during lunch.
At your therapy appointment, you finally cry. You can barely speak through your tears, telling Dr. Lee how being in Tokyo felt so cathartic and so heartbreaking at the same time. You tell her about Jungkook, about the friends that you had reconnected with after years. And then you tell her about how confused you are, how you had all but run out on Jungkook on the airplane.
“This is so stupid,” You sneer at yourself, wiping your cheeks angrily, “When did I become so pathetic-”
“Stop,” Dr. Lee says sternly, “There’s nothing pathetic-”
“I’m almost thirty and I’m acting like a selfish teenager! Who does this?” You snort derisively.
“What does age have to do with how you’re feeling? Don’t beat yourself up for feeling things that you’ve never felt before,” Dr. Lee says, “You’ve been closed off for this long. It’s okay to be a little selfish. You’re only human. Don’t punish yourself for feeling. I’m proud of you. For allowing yourself to feel.”
“It’s like… I know what I should do. But I keep doing the opposite. Or I just do nothing at all. What’s wrong with me?” You groan, holding your head in your hands, “I’m a terrible person, all I do is hurt everyone around me-”
“Bad people don’t wonder if they’re bad people or not,” Dr. Lee says kindly, “Making mistakes does not make you a bad person.”
“Am I a bad person, Dr. Lee? I feel like I’m faking it in my own skin sometimes…”
“Bad people don’t want to fix the things that they’ve wronged. Admitting when you can be better is the first step to fixing it. Let yourself fix it. Let yourself lean on other people.”
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FRIDAY
Today, you’re on a mission. You have to get that sad look out of Jungkook’s eyes, the one that you see whenever you happen to glance at him in passing and he catches a glimpse of you. You’ve hurt him repeatedly over the last few days and you need to make it right. Before you lose your nerve, you down an entire cup of coffee and march over to his cubicle.
You don’t even know if he’s in a meeting or not. But it doesn’t matter, you’ll wait. You’ll wait for his undivided attention.
Your courage begins to wear off the closer to get to his cubicle. But nevertheless, you persist.
“Jungkook,” You say clearly, “Hi. Good morning.”
Jungkook swivels in his chair, eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he realizes that it was you. Voluntarily at his cubicle, looking like a vision in your jeans and your plaid blazer.
It was a Friday, after all.
“Uh,” Jungkook says nervously, “Hi.”
“I have to talk to you. But not here,” You rush out, “Willyougeticecreamwithmelatertodayafterwork?”
A sigh of relief. But he’s looking at you like you have ten heads.
“Sorry, what was that? Didn’t catch what you said,” Jungkook says with an arch of his eyebrow.
“Uh. I want to talk to you. But not here at work. Will you get ice cream with me later today after work?” You mumble, looking at the floor before chastising yourself and meeting his piercing gaze.
Jungkook thinks he must be dreaming. There’s no way that you are asking him to get ice cream. He thought that you were done with him, that you disliked him even. Maybe he doesn’t know you at all.
“With me?” Jungkook sputters.
“Yeah. With you,” You nod with a small smile, “I know a place.”
“You know all the good ice cream spots on this side of the world, huh?” Jungkook says airily.
“I don’t think you had the opportunity to enjoy it in Tokyo,” You say softly, “So I want to make it up to you.”
“Oh. Okay,” Jungkook nods as his heart sings, “Text me the place and time, and I’ll meet you there?”
“Y-yeah. Okay,” You reply, pulling your clammy hands out of your pockets.
“See you soon, then,” Jungkook says, flashing a bunny smile at you. You haven’t seen that smile from him in a while and it surprises you how much you missed it. How it makes you want to smile back at him.
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Your jitters are parallel, if not worse, to first date jitters, except it’s been a long time since you’ve been on a first date. These jitters are so much worse, considering that you think you have a lot to apologize for and explain to Jungkook. Your stomach is twisted in knots, your leg bouncing as you mindlessly scroll through your phone.
You’d arrived at the ice cream shop about twenty minutes early. Another nervous habit. You hate being late to things.
Jungkook walks in and you knock your knee into the table as you get up from your seat. “Hi,” You wave weakly, “Thanks. Uh. For coming.”
You feel a little dizzy, lightheaded as you take him in. Long sleeved black shirt tucked into black jeans- he looks handsome. But more than that, you’re nervous to face him and bare your heart to him.
“What’s your favorite flavor?” Jungkook asks, peering at the buckets of ice cream behind you.
“Huh?”
“Ice cream? What’s your favorite?” Jungkook asks.
“I like chocolate. I’m easy to please,” You shrug, “Maybe chocolate raspberry. Mint chocolate, too. Oh, and orange chocolate-”
“Mint chocolate,” Jungkook exclaims, scrunching his nose, “Ugh. That’s gross.”
“Oh, whatever,” You roll your eyes playfully. Jungkook gestures for you to order your ice cream first, and then you both sit at a table towards the back near the windows. The sun has long set, blanketing the city in the night sky.
“Do you like it?” You ask, pointing at his selection of cookies and cream. He looks like a deer caught in headlights when he looks up at you, eyes gleaming and lips parted. He nods enthusiastically. 
A few more seconds of comfortable silence go by.
“Jungkook,” You say softly, “I think… I should explain myself. For Tokyo.”
He nearly chokes on his ice cream. “No, it’s-”
“Jungkook,” You say firmly, reminding Jungkook of why he is intimidated by you even still, “I asked you to meet me for ice cream because… I’m sorry for blowing up at you that night. You didn’t know, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on you. It’s not fair for me to keep one foot in the past and have this chokehold on a time that doesn’t exist anymore. So I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for just… running out of the airport without saying a word to you. I understand if you don’t want to have anything more than a workplace relationship with me- not that we’re in a relationship, oh my god,- I just meant, I get if you don’t want to be more than acquaintances.”
You cut off your own rambling, wanting to pull your eyes away so he can’t see your heart on your sleeve, but you find yourself unable to. Jungkook has never seen you this nervous before. It’s different. He’s only ever seen you be swift and confident, always sure in yourself. There are more layers to you than he knows, and he wants to peel them back.
“I’m sorry, too,” Jungkook says, “I didn’t… I didn’t know, but I can’t help but feel like maybe I should have. And I’m sorry. That you haven’t been happy, and that I remind you of-”
“No,” You shake your head, “What I said was wrong. I’m happy now, too. Happiness is dependent on the circumstances. It’s not the same, but it’s there. And I never… meant to make you feel like anything I was projecting onto you was because of you. I mean, we just found each other again after what? Five years? Isn’t that funny?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, as if he doesn’t have the memory of the last time he saw you before you had disappeared all those years ago stamped into his brain, “And I mean… We don’t have to just be acquaintances. If you don’t want to be. We don’t have to just have a workplace relationship, as you called it.”
He shoots you a teasing smile and you shrink in your seat, with a nervous laugh of your own. “O-Okay. I’d like that. To be friends, I mean. To be friends like we were when we were younger.”
“It wasn’t that long ago,” Jungkook says, his tongue poking out to swipe at his bottom lip, “Makin’ it sound like we’re old as hell. And we don’t have to be friends like that-”
Your heart drops, and you can’t hide it-
“We can be better. Than what we were like when we were younger.”
Your face feels warm, the sincerity dripping in his eyes makes you shift in your seat. You smile at him, bright and bold, and he smiles right back. When you both leave the ice cream shop, you can’t deny the flutter in your belly at the thought of a new (but old) friend back in your life after so long.
And it feels nice.
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gaetoeinhaler · 4 years
Text
𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭
lucifer x female reader smut
words : 1.8k
warnings ; spanking, choking, degrading, jealous and rough sex, mentions of a fight
_____________
i'm not sure how long it's been since i've seen lucifer come out of his room. he's always occupied with his work, but never pays attention to me. that's not how a relationship is supposed to work. no matter how much i tried to get him to at least go out on a date with me, just to give him a little break, he never agreed and continued to focus on his work.
it got to the point where we had a fight about it. i can still remember his words echoing throughout my head. luckily, the other brothers were here to comfort me.
they said lucifer will soon realize what he did was wrong and come out to apologize. though, its been past a week. and i'm starting to slowly doubt their words.
sitting down, watching a movie from the human that i had picked out, it being "It chapter 2" , we were all huddled together. mammon was clinging onto my arm as if his life depended on it, levi was holding my other arm. belphie was asleep, beel was eating all the popcorn. asmo and satan were on the other side of the couch, focused on the t.v. screen. waiting for another jumpscare to come.
______________
lucifer had finally finished all the paperwork that was needed to be done. he'd turn them in tomorrow to lord diavolo. though, throughout the time he worked on then, he had his mind wrapped around one thing and one thing only. (y/n). he didn't know how long it had been since he had last seen her.
he knew that she only wanted him to take a break. that she was worried for his health. but, he just had to go and lash out at her. he decided he'd make it up to her. he'd take tomorrow off, after he turned in the work, and spend the rest of the day with her. doing whatever she wanted for that day.
        he walked outside his room, seeing the hallways empty. the house was silent. that made him suspicious. he walked around, heading to the dining room. no one was there. he even checked the kitchen, expecting to find a hungry beelzebub roaming around looking for something to eat. he didn't, though.
        he wasn't going to jump to conclusions. he kept on walking until he heard the sound of voices coming from a room. he peeked through the door, and sure enough, there they all were. they were watching a movie. but, there was one thing lucifer didn't like. it was the fact that (y/n) was being smothered by two of his brothers. he frowned at the sight, and walked away.
        he'd do something about it later. something she couldn't refuse one bit whatsoever.
______________
        after the movie had ended, i slipped away from the sleeping brothers. walking out of the room, i headed down the hall, towards the kitchen to grab a small snack. thoughts raced around in my head, the memory of me and lucifer's fight still present within my mind. no matter how much his brothers comforted me, it still made me doubt myself. it made me doubt that i was good enough for him.
        shaking it away, i sighed out. if lucifer doesn't want me then he shouldn't have dated someone like me. walking inside the kitchen, i grabbed a cup from the cabinet, trying to stay as quiet as i could.
        pouring myself a glass of (flavor) juice, i brought the cup to my lips. taking small sips, the juice slowly disappeared. the cold substance slid down my throat, refreshing my thirst. going to place my cup in the sink to wash it, a creak was heard. footsteps soon came, and out from the darkness was lucifer.
his black hair was disheveled, out of place. eyebags were under his eyes, tainting his pale skin with a dark purplish black color. his ruby eyes held exhaustion in them, showing how tired he was. but yet, a small smirk was placed upon his pink lips. "hello, (y/n)." i gave a small nod, to acknowledge his appearance.
i could hear his form move, the floorboards creaking as he moved. turning to the sink, i started washing my cup clean. as i moved to put it away, a pair of hands landed on my hips. hot breath fanned against my ear, ruby eyes staring into the back of my head. "did you have fun? spending time with my brothers?" he whispered into my ear.
"lucifer..." i breathed out, turning my head slightly to get a glimpse at his red orbs. jealousy was written within them. need, too. the need for attention. my attention.
"tell me, what did you do with them?" he asked, moving the cup from my hand and to the counter. his hands on my hips turned my body around, making me face his way. "nothing, we didnt do anything." i reassured him, making sure to use the right words as to not fuel his jealousy. his eyebrows were narrowed, his eyes peering into my own. he clicked his tongue, moving his face until it was only inches away from mine.
"tell me. who do you belong to?" his eyes never blinked once, staying open to stare in my (e/c) eyes. taking a breathe in, i stare back in his eyes. "i belong to you,"
his smirk widened,"are you sure? it seems that you've forgotten." he leaned closer, his lips centimeters apart from mine. "i'll have to remind you who you belong to, (y/n)." his lips caught mine in a quick kiss, prying his way between my lips to allow his tongue inside my mouth.
        it brushed against mine, giving off warmth before claiming wherever it went. his hands snaked around to my top, fumbling with the hem of my hoodie. he pulled away, lifting up my hoodie and soon my shirt. his lips reattached to mine, his hands moving to my back.
        his fingers made quick work, unclipping my bra and letting it fall to the floor where the rest of my clothing have gone.
        lucifer pulled away, taking in the sight before him. his hands grasped ahold of my waist, lifting me up and setting me on the counter. his mouth attached onto my neck, leaving kisses amongst my skin, and the occasional nibble. his fingers moved to pull my leggings down, dropping them to the floor. his thumb pressed against my clothed clit, a gasp escaping my mouth the more he pressed down.
        with one hand teasing my slit, feeling the wet spot on my panties, the other worked on my nipple. pinching it softly, getting it harder with arousal. his teeth dug into my skin, soft enough to leave a bruise but not hard enough to cause my skin to break. his teeth moved down, leaving bites from the side of my neck to my collarbone.
        his hands moved away, his head pulling back to admire the bruises forming on my skin. his teeth dug into his bottom lip, his hands moving to remove his shirt. lifting it up, revealing his frosty pale skin, his toned chest. once his shirt was fully removed, his hands moved to remove his pants, fumbling with the belt.
        now fully naked, his erect member standing out, he slipped my panties off to join the rest of our clothes amongst the ground. his hands found their way on my hips again, pulling me close.
        aligning his member to my heated entrance, he slid himself in, groaning at the tightness. my hands found their way to his back, my nails digging in softly at the feeling of his cock stretching my walls. "lucifer," i whimpered, staring in his eyes.
        his hands removed themselves from my hips, pinning me down against the counter. my legs wrapped themselves around his waist, pulling him closer.
        he pulled out, before pushing himself back in. a moan erupted from my throat, encouraging him to move more. his hips pushed against mine, his cock hitting deep inside me. more moans came from me, his hand snaking to meet my throat. grasping ahold, enough to not cut off my breathe and blood flow. he leaned down, bottoming out before thrusting in.
        "you better quiet down, don't want my brothers to hear you now." he whispered. "they'll hear how much of a slut you are, taking me like this, letting me do such things to you, in this kitchen."
        his cock hit deeper every time he thrusted in, hitting deep inside my core and stretching me out more and more. i tried to keep quiet, trying to silence my moans, though when his dick hit that one spot, a small scream came from me.
he growled, his hand leaving my throat only to strike against my ass, leaving a stinging pain that only made me tighten around his cock. a groan came from his throat, feeling the sensation of my wells squeezing, pressing on his dick as he continued to thrust in.
“what did i just say? you little whore,” he huffed, his pace speeding up, chasing after my orgasm. “trying to get my brothers to hear your moans? how loud you are?” he groaned more, feeling my walls tighten more, signaling my orgasm would be soon. “taking my cock in your tight pussy,” his eyebrows furrowed, his red eyes peering in my eyes.
“lucifer, please,” i moaned softly, my thighs starting shake, wanting my release. “tell me who you belong to,” he huffed.
“you, i belong to you!” i cried out. “please, let me cum!” i pleaded, hearing him growl once more. “alright,” his words were spaced out. “cum when i say so.”
sweat dripped down his forehead and chest, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his cock twitched within me. his hair was more disheveled, ruined and out of its normal place. strands stuck out, his teeth sinking harsher and deeper in his bottom lip.
the tip of his dick kept hitting my special spot, drawing me closer and closer to my orgasm. until, the knot finally broke. not waiting for his command, i clenched my walls around him, using my legs and drawing him closer. my hands quickly found there way to his back, my nails digging into his skin and leaving red scratch marks.
waves of pleasure crashed over me, releasing on his cock. his tip twitched, before hot semen shot out and into my core.
panting heavily, my nails un-dug themselves from lucifer’s skin. my head fell against his chest, his muscles relaxing. his hands found there way, snaking around my form, and pulling me close.
“dont think this is over.” he whispered. “this is just only the beginning.”
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themaninflannel · 3 years
Text
Never be the same (Snapshots pt 4)
Summary: the time leading up to dean being dragged to hell. Y/N and Dean are so in denial about ~certain things~
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: grief disguised as anger, yelling, angst
AN: hey yall its been a WHILE since I wrote anything but I do plan on continuing this series as well as maybe other things
part 1 part 2 part 3
masterlist
I had been traveling with the boys for almost two years when everything changed. Dean sold his soul to save Sam, and he got one year. One freaking year. Don’t get me wrong I understand why he did it and honestly I might have done the same thing, but I am not the kind of person the world will miss. Dean is. He is the kind of man whose death will be felt by more than just the people who knew him. And I was PISSED.
“Dean what the fuck! You sold your soul for ONE FUCKING YEAR?!”
“NO. I did it for Sam. I couldn’t live with him being dead!”
“Did you ever think about the fact that maybe JUST MAYBE we couldn’t live with you being dead?”
“Ha, thats not what i’m worried about,” he turned his back around on me, “im sure you guys will be fine,”
“There you go again! Of course we would be worried! We’re your family, Dean.”
This was the conversation that we kept having with Dean. Eventually we stopped yelling at him for it and started doing our best to make sure he could have the best year possible. He deserved that, whether or not he thought so. This meant a lot of shitty bars and games of pool. And Women.
We were in a roadhouse, the kind where the floor smells like beer and theres only like three people there-including the bartender. Dean saw a sign that said ‘burgers and beer’ and just had to pull over and try it. He had been doing that more and more the closer that we got to the big day.
“Ugh dean come on,” Sam groaned, “i get heart problems just by looking at this place,”
“Oh Sammy! Im sure we can find you some of that rabbit food you like so much,” Dean teased, slapping Sam in the chest as he got out of the car.
“Common, it makes him happy,'' I said shrugged. We got out of the car and followed dean into the bar. He didnt seem to be bothered by the lack of people, instead he just walked straight to the bar. Unfortunately for dean, there was a lack of women in this particular bar and he was stuck with us.
“Beers all around!” dean handed us each a bottle and followed sam over to the pool table.
After about three games and quite a few more drinks, we headed back to the car. I had stayed mostly sober so that dean could drink all he wanted, at some point i had snaked his keys out of his pocket. He never would have given them to me without a fight- even if he had been sober. Sam got him into the back seat and i set off in search of a half decent motel for us to spend the night in.
“A month left. And were no where closer to finding Lilith than we were three months ago,” Sam said when it was clear that Dean was asleep.
“Well get there. Lilith has to be looking for us, so its only a matter of time”
“We should head back to Bobby’s soon and go over all of the books again” sam suggested. We kept talking until i pulled off towards a rest stop with a motel.
I opened the door and Sam plopped dean down on the bed closest to the door.
“Im gonna grab a shower and wash this dive smell off,” i headed towards the bathroom.
I turned on the water as hot as it would go and just stood under it. It was the first time in a few days i had to truly relax, we had back to back hunts for the last week and that meant being constantly alert. Thus, it was no surprise that the first time I had to relax i got hit with a wave of grief and exhaustion. I collapsed on the shower floor and cried, i cried for dean and his deal, I cried for Sam who was about to lose his brother, and i cried for me because i was gonna loose my best friend, the most important person in the world to me. By the time I was able to breath again the water had gone cold.
When I walked out of the bathroom in my PJs Sam had crashed in the other bed, leaving me to crawl in next to Dean. This was how we ended up most nights, me and Dean and then sam either in the next bed or the next room. This was as close to a real partnership as i had ever had, and it wasnt even the real thing. We hadnt slept together after that second time, but i was gonna take everything i could before he was gone.
Deans POV
Everyday is closer to my own personal doomsday. But I already feel like im in hell, seeing Sammy’s face fall everytime he looks at me is hell. Seeing Y/N try to keep me at arms length in the day but crawl under shitty motel covers and hold me at night. I pretend that I let it happen for her, but thats not true. Not that she or Sammy needs to know that. They dont need to know im scared, that would put too much on their shoulders. They dont need that. I can see how much they are trying to put on a good face for me and I would hate if I was the one that ruined that for them.
I can tell its close. I can feel Hell laying its claim on my soul. WI just hope that the last thing I see before I get dragged to hell will be Y/N’s face. I cant burden her with how I feel when im about to die. I just cant see the disgust on her face and then die. So i keep it to myself. We know where Lilith is, its only a matter of time before we go looking for her. Or they go looking for her.
Y/Ns POV
Hes just laying there, the hellhounds tore apart his chest and now hes just laying there. But its not him. Not anymore. Now hes just a shell, his final words frozen on his face. What do we do now? What do I do now? I left behind my life to hunt with him, and Sam, and now hes gone.
Sam is angry. Like burn the world down kill anything that fucks with him angry. And Bobby, Bobby is broken. Like drink the days away broken. I cant help Sam, he wont let me and I dont have it in me to fight with him right now. And maybe I cant help Bobby, but I can at least be there with him and offer a shoulder for when he does let me help.
-----four months later-----
I haven't seen Sam since we burned Deans body, but i've been helping Bobby as best he’ll let me. Most days that meant spending the day following him around with some food trying to get him to consume something that isn't booze and the nights trying to get him to put down the books and go to sleep. And when that inevitably fails I cover him with a blanket and turn the lights off before I crash on the couch.
Its been almost four months since I held Deans lifeless body in my arms. Since I saw the hell hounds tear him apart. Since I realized I would never be the same without him.
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sicjimin · 3 years
Note
I love your work how about D7 for Namjoon 😁
— 7. Hey, um… can you take over for me? I really need to find a bathroom, now…
- - -
Namjoon hates how time seems to go way slower when people desperately need it to end or start something faster. Either it's because of excitement or just want to get done of something. In Namjoon's case now it's the latter—he just wants to get done with this hellish meeting and run to the bathroom to puke.
The words from PD-nim and staff have been simply passing through in his ears the past few minutes when his stomach got worse. Everything feels hot for him even though the air conditioner is on. He squirmed on his seat. Just few minutes later, Joon. You can go through this. Few minutes and you can—
Namjoon turns his eyes when Yoongi nudges him, "PD-nim asks about your opinion", the older hushed. Namjoon stuttered and give the safest and declarative answers that he agreed with everything that got chosen. He sighs in relief when all eyes have turned away from him and back to the conversation. He moves his hand secretly to wrap around his stomach, hoping that no one would notice the tight grip on his sweater. He feels so sick. If anything that he could focus on right now is how he could faintly hear and feel water, iced americano, and breakfast he had earlier sloshing angrily in his stomach. He shakily takes the water and sips a little, maybe it would calm down the nausea. But oh—
Namjoon turns his chair quickly when he feels the splash of vomit hitting his throat, making him belched quietly against his fist. His heart beats faster now. He can't hold it anymore longer or the janitor would be cleaning vomit in this room. He pokes Yoongi's arms beside him, "Hyung"
"hm?"
"Please take notes for me? i think I'm going to be sick and i really need to find a bathroom now", Namjoon mumbled quickly as he races with a gag that has latched behind his tongue. Yoongi finally turns his head from the sheet and looks at the younger with wide eyes. He just noticed how pale Namjoon is with his lips quiver like it's holding back something. " You're sick? Why don't you tell me earlier? You don't have to come here if you're sick!"
"I dont think i still could—", a wet burp escaped Namjoon's mouth. He grimaces at how uncomfortable it was and gulped down the warm liquid that climbing up after that, "—hold it back. but, hyung .. please i need to go now", he adds desperately.
Yoongi frantically nods, 'Yes yes just go. Do you want me to come?", Namjoon shakes his head, "I'll be fine, thank you hyung", and with that, he sneakily gets out of the room and bolts to the nearest bathroom he could find with clamped mouth and body slightly hunched over. He quickly kneels in front of the first toilet he could saw, just in time as a mouthful of vomit spurts from his mouth. He coughs few times as he blindly tries to lock the stall before turning his full attention back to the murky water below. He squeezed his eyes shut with the sight. His stomach churns angrily and hitched few times before it morphs into a deep heave. Namjoon grips the porcelain tightly as his body pitched forward, sending his breakfast earlier into an aggressive stream, splashing loudly filling the bowl. He gasps before another wave followed. He goes and goes as his stomach won't stop clenching and bring more of its content. He groans in between heaves. He felt terrible.
In the lull of the moment, he managed to flush down the toilet and blows his nose. He placed his hand on his stomach as he watched his food swirling down to the drain. Is that it or there's mo— Oh.
His question got answered when his breath hitched before he gurgles more sick up, filling the empty toilet with new round of vomit. He heaves for few times before it tappered as a quiet gag, indicating that he already gives up everything in his stomach. Namjoon finally leaned back and flushed his vomit, again. Exhaustion starts crippling his bone. He shakily stands up and walks sluggishly to the wastafel. Shit, he looks like a mess. Teary eyes, blotched cheeks, pale lips and not to mention his runny nose. He quickly washes his face and rinses his mouth that tastes bland after it got rushed with vomit. At least that would make him a little bit.. decent.
Namjoon almost jumps on his feet when he meets eyes with Yoongi in the mirror, "Hyung! warn a man, will you? my heart skipped a beat, gosh", he grunts. Yoongi giggles as he walks and placed his hand on the younger shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before he asks, "How are you feeling? Have you been sick?"
"Mhm, i dont know hyung. I feel light? Maybe because i just puke, a lot", Namjoon mumbled. "Has the meeting finished?"
"Yeah, i will send the notes later. Now why don't we go to your studio? or home? You look like you gonna fall over anytime soon, Joon-ah"
Namjoon brushes his hair as he sighs tiredly, "I think studio? i could steal a quick nap there. I feel wrong if i just go home", Yoongi moves his hand up and down on the younger back as he guided him to walk out to his studio, 'Studio it is. Even though the rest will understand if you're going home. It's not like you want it to happen", Yoongi murmured. " I know but i can't help it hyung. I think i will be more in peace doing nothing here .. with you around"
Yoongi smile at the remarks.
Yeah, Namjoon and his stubbornness.
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just-asks-and-beats · 3 years
Text
Let’s Set Sail
Lycan woke up slowly, stretching as he continue to lay on the soft grass. He sat up and looked over to Gray, who was lying unmoving beneath the tree. A flash of worry shot through him as he realised just how still Gray looked. He crawled over and pocked at him, no response was given. They panicked a little more as they shook Gray, then practically shoved him into the trunk of the tree.
“WAKE UP PLEASE DONT BE DEAD!” he shouted. This finally got a reaction out of the sleepy gray shape, who groaned and looked around in a half-conscious panic. His movements were sluggish, as if all his energy had been drained, but he still found it in him to sit up… He somehow managed to feel even worse than yesterday, maybe because all the adrenaline keeping him going was gone. Hopefully he’d find some spite within him sooner or later to give him a reason to keep moving. Lycan let out a sigh of relief as Gray finally moved and sat up.
“Hey, I know you’re still tired, and I have no idea what time it is, but we should get goin’. No offense but if you looked bad yesterday, then you look horrible today. We really gotta get you to the volcano.” Lycan looked worriedly at Gray, the dark circles beneath his eyes seeming even more pronounced. Gray simply grunted and leaned on the trunk of the tree, taking a while to stand up. Lycan crouched on the ground and signalled for Gray to get on his shoulders, the beach wasn’t very far away, and with the bridge being closed because of some issues Lycan had hardly heard or cared to find out more about, finding Ship was their only option. Gray climbed onto Lycan’s shoulders, slouching a bit, and the two were on their way again.
(this is a kinda long story segment sorry lmao)
The beach was either a lively place, or a desolate one, not much of an in-between. The two could only hope it would be quiet today. As they approached the beach hey heard the hustle and bustle of many other shapes, just their luck. They tried to stay on the sidelines and as nonchalant as possible, with little to no cover out on the open sand. Lycan opened the cloak just a bit, enough so they could see but not be seen. It took a little while of walking and almost bumping into a few shapes, but they eventually saw Ship discussing something with some other sailor.
“Ok, I know you’re, like, exhausted so just let me do the talking, all you gotta do is move your mouth. I’ll try to talk a little slowly so you can try to sync up your movements to the words. Kinda stupid but just do your best.” Lycan instructed. All Gray let out was a small “mhm”, spending all other energy and brainpower on keeping himself upright so he won’t bring Lycan down with him. They walked over to Ship, keeping a little distance so he couldn’t immediately tell the voice was coming from lower than Gray’s face.
“Um, hello. Sorry to bother you but w- I’ve come to request a ride on one of your fine vessels. A short trip, nothing too treacherous whatsoever, simply someone who will take me from point A to point B. If you would be so kind it would make me most gratuitous.” Lycan tried to make his voice sound deeper and more mature, and use weird sophisticated words like he’d heard Barracuda use every now and then. He thought it made him sound stupid though, and made a mental note to never say “gratuitous” again. Gray was too tired and awkward to really pay attention to what was going on, other than the fact that shapes were looking at him. He didn’t like that. He especially didn’t like it when Ship looked at him, finding it hard to keep his cool. However, Lycan’s change in attitude and word use reminded him of someone, he smiled a little bit while loosely mouthing what Lycan was saying. Ship took a moment to look the stranger up and down. Gray head, blue legs and tail. Looks like some strange plant species they’d never seen before. They adjusted their eye patch and seemed to think for a moment before shrugging.
“Well I’m not much one for ferryin’, but I s’ppose a short favor really can’t be too bad. Where can I take ye, lad? Wherever it is I’d be willin to bring ye there for a small price and a short trip.” They spoke with a slight accent, peering at the stranger before them. Lycan’s tail wagged slightly, happy his plan was already going so well.
“The volcano please, and I do apologise if this is causing any inconvenience, I saw the bridge was out so you’re really my only option.” Lycan and Gray both felt a drop in optimism as a look of surprise overtook Ship’s face.
“The volcano!? Well.. y’see.. shapes have been stayin’ away from ‘ere for a little while now… There’s been rumours o’ some leftovers of the corruption there or somethin’ like that. Not sure what’s true and what isn’t, but I believe the resident grump’s been makin’ things a bit hard on those who want to visit. We’re working’ on getting the lad to come ‘round, but he hasn’t budged yet. I really don’t recommend going there lest yer ready if he tells ye to piss off, and his warnins ain’t always been verbal.” As Ship explained the reasons why going to the volcano would be a bad idea, Lycan and Gray realized at once who that “resident grump” must be… Barracuda. Gray felt that pit of guilt forming in his stomach once again. Lycan felt worried about if he would be welcome back. He and Barracuda had already butted heads for the time he was staying there, if Barracuda was now even more irritable, he might take one look at Lycan and pelt him with rocks until he leaves. He gulped before responding.
“Ah… It‘s certainly unfortunate to hear that, but you see getting to the volcano is very important to me. I… uh… left my wedding ring there! I simply cant leave it behind, my wife has been berating me about being such a clutz for months!” It was a terribly lie, but it was the first that came to mind so they just went with it. Ship gave a look of surprise, then understanding.
“Aye… I can see how important of a trip that would be. Ok, I’ll take ye, but just be sure to find it and leave as soon as you can, I’ll leave my vessel waiting around the outskirts of the island and come in with ye, I don’t want ye dealing with ol’ Grumps alone.”
“Wait, n-no!” Lycan realised how much of an idiot he was, retrieving an item was more of a short term in-and-out visit, and that certainly wasn’t what either him or Gray needed. He sighed then thought up another story, feeling nervous and pressured by Ship’s confused look. He could only imagine how scared he was making Gray right now.
“Uh, look… I may have lied to you about that previous story. You see, I’m actually an old friend of Barracuda’s family, though over the years we sort of lost touch. I heard about this… incident he was involved in and felt it would be only right to come out and check on him. Please, I just need someone to discretely take me there so I can stay with him and make sure everything will be ok.” Lycan hoped desperately that this new story would be convincing enough for Ship. Gray, on the other hand had to deal with that knot of guilt in his stomach worsening. This whole situation was so draining, and that look of pity which formed onto Ship’s face certainly didn’t help. He usually hated looks like that, but maybe this time it was a good thing, it might mean Ship was buying Lycan’s story.
“…Alright I understand. I’ll take ye there free of charge, just… please do what you can to calm him. We only want peace, and to move on from all that mess.” Ship sighed and walked over to the dock, a sky blue sailboat tied up there.
“This certainly ain’t my most impressive vessel, but she does the job just fine for quick errands!” They hopped on and motioned for the stranger to follow. Lycan and Gray let a wave of relief wash over them, though the journey was only just beginning, they had to get through the trip to the volcano and dealing with Barracuda first before they could really rest. Lycan boarded and sat down slowly, doing his best to stay steady so Gray wouldn’t be jostled and fall.
“Thank you very much, it really means a lot to me.” Despite the previous lies, Lycan meant every word of this. Ship just smiled at them as they prepped everything for sailing. Once the boat was in order and undocked, beginning to venture away from the shore, they turned back to the stranger in their boat.
“Ye know, ye never did tell me yer name, and I’m not sure I told ye mine either! Well Ye can call me Ship! A fitting name for a sea captain, I know. I’m proud of it.” Thye puffed their chest out then offered a hand to the stranger, awaiting a response. Lycan froze. They thought and thought and thought, but nothing good came to them. He had done so well with everything else, why was this what was giving him trouble!? They silently panicked until he felt Gray sort of reluctantly tap them on the head and try to make some sort of gesture without moving too much. It was a little hard to understand but Lycan thought he got the picture, reaching his pink-free hand out to shake Ship’s.
“Call me Gray.”
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soulwillower · 4 years
Text
heat waves • stanley uris
(stanley uris x reader smut)  
requested: stanley uris fic where he plays baseball and she plays softball please? best friends to lovers if you can! (bonus for borrowing each other's clothes) 
warnings: softball player! reader, swearing, smut at the end sorry, oral (male receiving), fluff mostly though, i promise, unedited as fuck i wrote this all in the last few hours LOL
i hope u dont mind i added smut at the end
(this was inspired partly by the song heat waves by glass animals but just a bit idk) 
[losers + reader are 18+.]
3.2k words i think
it was hot.
in fact it was boiling fucking hot, in stan's opinion, and despite loving nearly everything about summer, the heat was the absolute worst of those characteristics by far. 
he sighs as he flies down the backroads, away from the baseball fields and towards his house. he's pushing his curls back from his face and groaning as he feels sweat beads on his forehead, his eyes catching the dying sunlight and making him itch to wash his hands.
it's june, and there's a deep heatwave that hit derry that's caused all the a/c units at the store richie works at to disappear from the shelves, the public pool that bill and eddie work at the become overcrowded with kids and families escaping the heat, and the baseball fields to be extremely blistering as mike, stan, and you had to stand under the sun all day the last two days.
his lips twitch up faintly at the thought of earlier today, when he'd had a ten minute break and had ran over in his spikes with mike to catch an inning of the softball game on the fields adjacent to theirs. 
the only reason they'd gone was to see you play, of course - and to your embarrassment, they'd caught right when you'd stepped to the plate and had hollered "yeah, baby! y/n/n!" loud enough to make everybody in the stands' head turn and embarrassing enough to make you giggle as you waited for the pitch. 
you'd hit a double then, which had also scored in two runs and stan had seen your smile as you stood out at second base, breathing hard and brushing the dirt off your pants. and when he'd waved to you, you waved back with so much pride and excitement that he'd felt his heart skip a beat.
he smiles to himself as he turns the corner into his neighborhood, squinting slightly as the air moves in squiggles feet above the pavement. he swears with a shake of his head - he fucking hates the heat, but the double edged sword of baseball season in the summer makes it worth it. 
his phone buzzes from where it's placed in his cup holder and he grabs it, smiling at the y/n y/l/n !!!!! that pops up at the top. he rolls his eyes as he answers, remembering the time when you'd called him a psychopath for having your full name in his phone contact, claiming you knew for a fact he somehow didn't know any other y/n's, so you’d added the exclamation points ‘just for flare.’ 
he answers, "hey, how was the last game?" he asks as he pulls into his driveway. "we lost." you grumble and he hums as he pulls himself out of the car, leaving his bat bag in the trunk since he's got practice tomorrow. "i'm sorry to hear that. d'you want to come over?" he asks casually as he makes his way inside and sighs at the relief of the air conditioning. "yes, yeah. i do." you say and stan smiles down to the ground at your goofiness. as he enters the kitchen he realizes his parents are out, so he asks, "can you bring food?"
you sigh and he can imagine your grin as you say, "god, the shit i do for you, uris. why can't we go together?" you whine. he snorts, "but i have to shower." he tries to reason, but you retort, "i just spend thirteen hours in the heat too, stan, i need to shower as well."
he smiles, walking up the stairs towards his room. "alright, alright. we can go together, just come over and you can shower here."
"did i mention i love you?" you sigh, almost dreamily. stan stops in his tracks, heart stopping and mouth going dry but still grinning as he hears his name yelled by a voice in the background of your line and you hiss back a muffled, "shut up!"
his face is red as he mutters, "yeah, yeah. love you too, y/n/n. i'll see you soon."
your voice echoes in his head as he stares at the tiles of his shower the entire time he's showering. did i mention i love you? as the ice cold water cascades over his sore muscles, relaxing him and breathing energy back into his tired body, he can't get you out of his head. 
your voice, your hair, the way you have so much confidence on the field and yet are the sweetest and funniest person he's every met. as his mind wanders, he thanks god that his shower is freezing and he groans, trying to stop imagining his best friend while he's in the shower.
did i mention i love you?
he steps out soon after that, feeling like a bit of a creep. as he ruffles his towel-dry hair, he hears his front door open. opening the door to the bathroom, he's suddenly facing you, clad in your dirty uniform, your visor still on your head and a tired but happy smile on your face. "where's donny and andrea?" you ask and stan shrugs, chuckling a bit at your dumb nickname for his father, "think they had some meeting and went out after." he's not really focused though, because he's aware that he is standing with only a red towel hanging low on his hips as you stand in front of him, your cheeks red and eyes wide, bouncing around him and avoiding eye contact, flustered as you clear your throat.
did i mention i love you?
he grabs his dirty uniform to sweep into the laundry and gets you a fresh towel, gathering clothes for you to change into before residing to his own bedroom. the shower turns on right as he pulls on his shirt and flops back onto his mattress.
he can't get you off his mind, which isn't necessarily a new development, but ever since the heat wave, his mind has been stuck in a loop that's never ending. y/n, baseball, y/n, baseball, y/n, y/n, y/n....
did i mention i love you?
it's hot in his room and he stares at the patterns in his ceiling, lifting a brow as the spots morph in and out of shapes and suddenly it's back to you, your angelic face in his vision and he almost groans. he loves you way too much, he thinks. 
he knows every single feature about you; enough so that your face, beautiful and clear as always, appears in his vision and he's fucked because he knows he’s still be able to remember where every feature, mark or blemish on your face is, even when you're not with him.
even though he knows that your relationship is just platonic, he still finds himself imagining his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and he yearns to touch every part of you, to be touched by you. he can't get you out of his mind.
the shower shuts off so he sits up and rubs his eyes - the danger and power the you have over him almost makes him laugh, especially because if you knew half the things he thought about you, you'd probably kill him.
he's smiling dumbly, thinking about the time you and bill got caught sneaking onto the derry golf course and made richie and stan pick you two up, right as you pad into his room.
"i look like a dumbass, stan!" you groan, lifting your arms as you spin a bit, and he almost dies. he has to shake his head to avoid you seeing his blush because you're standing in front of him, wearing his baseball team practice shirt that has his last name on it and his gym shorts, cinched at the waist to keep them on you and neither things fit you very well but he thinks he's going to lose it because his heart feels so warm. 
your hair is wet and making the shirt totally wet where the ends of the strands touch, your skin bright from washing off the eyeblack you'd worn all day. he's so lost in the image of you that you have to repeat yourself.
"stan! stop looking at me, oh my god i want to die." you shove your face into your hands and laugh. he shakes his head rid of his stupor and stands from his bed, laying a hand on your shoulder. "you look incredible right now, y/n. let's go, i'm hungry."
he grabs the hoodie he'd insisted you order for him early last year - with your club team's logo on it and a big, white #2 and your last name on the back. he knows it's too hot to actually wear it, but he's going to take it because you always get cold under his car's a/c.
he's not always the best at approaching you in a way that is comforting, but you beam at him as you follow him out towards his car. you're both walking slowly through the hot nighttime air, half because the air is so thick it feels like you're wading, but half from the exhausting day you'd both had. 
every muscle in stan's body aches as he pulls himself into the driver's seat, making sure everything was straight and in place. he doesn't even blush when he turns the key twice before starting the ignition, knowing that you don't mind and even show affection towards his compulsions after all this time. his heart thumps at the thought.
"where to?" you yawn as you ask and he can feel your eyes on him as he's leaning back, backing his car out of the driveway. he flushes once again under your beautiful gaze.
stan then finds himself in the back of his trunk at the quarry, the windows still up because you insisted it'd be too hot with the door open. he'd listened to you because you're you - but if it had been bill, or eddie, or ben, or mike or bev or especially richie he would have groaned and complained about how bad it was for his battery to keep the a/c running.
but it was you, so he did it with a smile on his face and a thump in his heart. you're sitting with your knees touching, stomachs full of fries, burgers, and vanilla milkshakes.
you're still working on your milkshake, spooning it into your mouth slowly as you tell stan a story about your day. "-and she slid under the tag - no, don't look at me like that, she was under it! - and the fucking ump called her out." you grumble, glaring into your milkshake. stan just grins, taking in your natural hair and how it's framing your face, the way your legs gleam in the moonlight and showcase the random bruises you have from taking pitches to the legs.
he forgets to respond and you look up at him, lifting a brow. "oh, yeah, i got a few bruises." you mutter, examining your leg yourself. you perk up, "look at this one! it's got stitch marks!" you say enthusiastically, pulling your bare thigh up so it's across stan's lap, scooting closer to him. he gulps, the proximity of you to him making it hard to focus as you run your fingers over the skin.
"shit." he mutters, hingers falling to touch the purple skin that was blossoming in a faint circle, red and purple stitch marks from the softball etching their way onto your skin. "that must've stung." he adds, eyes glued to your bare leg. you hum in agreement and suddenly your eyes are meeting his and he can't breathe at all.
you're closer than he'd expected as you straighten up, leg falling flat against his lap as you stare deep into each other's eyes. yours are swimming with wonder as you watch him, and he almost jumps when your hand lands on his shoulder. "what're you thinking? you're in your head a lot tonight, stan." you say gently, with all the care in the world and he doesn't really feel the usual twinge of guilt he feels for being more reserved than usual - instead he just feels like he may explode if he doesn't just tell you.
"y/n." he says it so quietly that all he can hear is the first part of your name. "uh-i... uh, maybe it's the heat wave, but..." he shakes his head, knowing that excuse with not work. you're too smart to believe a fib that simple. he sighs.
"no. no, i just- sometimes all that i think about is you." he says, his hand falling to rub over your bare thigh. he feels your muscles tense under his palm and he searches your eyes, his stomach tying itself into knots of anxiety as he waits patiently.
"what-what do you mean?" you ask softly, eyes flickering between his and he bites his lips, looking out to the quarry quickly before looking at you. he thinks about the days you've spent together with the others down at the water, all the drunken nights where you find your way to the clubhouse you'd all built in middle school.
he thinks about how you always, always make it to his games when you're not also playing; how you always sit at the far top right of the bleachers and scream his name loud enough that he can hear you even when he's way out in center field, how you always wear his away uniform jersey and give it back to him with a hug after the games. he thinks about all the hours the two of you have spent together at derry's batting cages, competitively keeping tallies of how many line drives you can each hit.
"stan?" you ask again softly, biting your lip. "i think about you too." you tell him, and he shakes his head, knowing that you aren't totally understanding him (but that's definitely not your fault).
"i think i love you."
he says it louder than intended, and it slices through the midnight air in a way that makes the world stagnant. he swears, even the frogs stop croaking, the cicadas stop buzzing, the wind stops blowing through the leaves in the forest.
"like... like you love me?" you ask, your leg still across his lap, hand still on his shoulder reassuring him that you at least weren't completely disgusted by his admission.
"like i'm in love with you." he reiterates, looking straight into your apprehensive eyes as he says it. it takes barely a split second before you're smiling at him in a grin that knocks the wind right out of stan's chest again. 
"what made you decide that?" you ask with a huge, breathtakingly sweet smile as your hands slide to hold his neck. he huffs a laugh, unsure still, "dunno. lots of things - everything about you, really." he mumbles, feeling slightly stupid but still incredibly giddy as you lean closer.
"well i'm in love with you, stan." you say, lips ghosting over his. he grins, the feeling of you so close to him making his fingers tingle as one hand stays on your thigh, the other falling to your hip.
he can't speak, so instead he closes the gap. your lips are warm against him - your whole body is - as you come to life, kissing him like you've been doing it your whole life. you whimper lightly and it makes him sigh with pleasure, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tasting the vanilla of your milkshake on your tongue.
slowly, you slide onto his lap and his hands move up your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him, his tongue swiping against your plush lips. you're straddling him, cupping his jaw with both hands as you accept his tongue, yours caressing his sweetly and he wonders why you haven't been doing this your whole life.
he pushes against you, pulling you closer to him as you pull back for breath. "i've wanted to do that for so long." you mutter lowly as his lips immediately attach to the soft expanse of your skin, his fingers tickling down your bare thighs. he grins as he feels goosebumps form under his palms, biting down and sucking the soft skin on your throat, eliciting a moan from you. 
he pulls back a bit, "me too." he says, lips peppering kisses all the way up to your lips and catching them again, your hand sliding into his har and tugging on the strands.
you slowly grind against him and he groans at the feeling of you around him, the pleasure making his mind fuzzy as all he can think about it you. 
and then he’s dying because you’re trailing a hand down to palm him through his pants and all he can do is groan a bit against your chest and look at you because holy shit.
 you slide off his lap and down on to your knees in the small space between his legs, watching him with those beautiful doe eyes as you slide down his shorts slowly. 
he’s watching, lip caught between his teeth as you pull him free from where he strains against his boxers, licking your lips and pumping his base a few times. he grunts as your hand moves, the feeling making him twitch in pleasure. his cock is dripping precum and you slowly reach your tongue out, swirling around his tip. he lets out a dejected moan and grips your shoulders as you slowly take him into your mouth, wet and warm and perfect.”good girl.” he mutters quietly through his bliss and he notices how you flush under the praise, your tongue flattening as you take him further in. 
 as you bob your head down and try to take as much of him as you can, you look up through your lashes to watch him, the eye contact making his legs weak.
 his lips are parted, watching as you suck him off as his hips twitch, hands playing with your hair through his pleasure. "fuck, y/n..." he moans as you start to bob your head quicker, lifting one of your hands to grab his own. he lets you guide his hand to the back of your head and you gently put pressure on it.
he thinks he might faint as he realizes what you want. slowly, he pushes you further down on his cock and he gasps at the tight feeling of you gagging around him. 
 he groans, “you like that, hm?” quietly as you whimper around his cock, the vibrations nearing him to his high. “holy shit.” he mutters to himself as he moves your head, the lewd noises of his cock in your mouth and his moans filling up the car. 
you take him as far into your mouth as you can and he feels you try to relax as he gently pushes you further down on his cock until he hits the back of your throat. you moan, the vibrations pushing him to the edge as his hips buck up slightly.
you choke and pull off of him, catching your breath as you make eye contact, “being so good for me.” he mutters, his eyes glazed over as he watches you pump him. you smile, cheeks pink from the praise and he almost swoons with how fucking perfect you look. 
he lets out a low moan at your warm mouth taking him in, bobbing up and down. his hands push you down onto him again and he holds you there while he gently thrusts up, your hands on his thighs. he tilts his head back, eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss. 
its only a few seconds and he barely gets out a, "fuck, y/n, i'm gonna-" before he's spilling into your mouth. to his surprise, you moan around him and slowly lick him up and swallow, looking up at him with a tired smile.
“holy shit.” he says yet again, staring at you as you pull his shorts back up and bite your lip. he pulls you into a kiss and he can taste himself on your lips, making his stomach flip. 
"date me." he says quickly as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed from the taste of you on his tongue and the post-orgasmic bliss. you pull back, grinning. "well you don't have to be so polite about it." your voice sounds fucked-out and kind of raw and he’s certainly a dead man. 
he chuckles, rolling his eyes at your sarcastic tone. he loves you so fucking much.  "fine. y/n, please be my girlfriend. i want to be your boyfriend, i want us to date. please, will you go out with me?" his voice is dead-pan, but he's serious about it, and you can tell by his boyish grin.
you laugh, shaking your head. "god, was that so hard?" you ask, your hands rubbing over his chest, where his muscles tense in soreness. he then realizes you're still straddling him and how fucking sore you must be. he pulls you closer.
and then you pull him in for another kiss, both of your teeth clashing slightly from your grins. you didn't even explicitly say yes, stan wants to say, but instead he mutters, "did i mention i love you?"
you smile, cheeks red. “you might have mentioned it.” you say bashfully. he grins, kissing your cheek sweetly, hand running up your thigh slowly. “can i taste you, babylove?” he mumbles against your skin and he feels you shiver as you let out a quiet moan. 
you grin, kissing him on the lips, “why dont we go back to your place...can i stay the night?” you ask, cheeks aflame as you look at him. “i want to take our time.” you add. 
it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen and he nods, grinning at you. “fuck- yes, yes you can. of course.” he says, smiling at you. you kiss him heatedly, grinning as you pull back and lean over to crawl back to the passenger seat. stan slaps your ass lightly as you do and you squeal, grinning back at him with a lifted brow, “c’mon, uris. you’re scoring tonight.”
he rolls his eyes at your cheesy words and groans a bit, but he can’t ignore the butterflies that thrash in his chest nonetheless. 
you love him.
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