#fives is all never! only death can silence me! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sjyluv · 7 hours

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in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you

genres! fluff?, angst, celebrity x celebrity, ex-lovers

word count! 1380

warnings! mention of breakup, heartbreak

synopsis! in another life, you and park sunghoon are lovers, just not in this one

mimi’s note! this fic was inspired by a quote from the movie ‘everything everywhere all at once’ also I'm not very good at writing angst because I hate it but I did my best

“Congrats, big shot,” a familiar voice says from behind you, and you can hear the teasing smile in his tone, “actress of the year award, you're in the big leagues now.”

You turn around to face Park Sunghoon, a renowned figure skater and your ex-boyfriend. You haven't seen each other in almost a year but the sight of him still has the same effect on you it did all those years ago.

He's hauntingly beautiful and you're a house of horrors.

You offer a polite smile, but it's bittersweet as if you were greeting death itself.

“Congratulations to you too, you're becoming a bit of an A-list yourself since you won the Olympics.” you quip, and you both know what kind of game you're going to play tonight.

It’s the same one you always play, the one where he pretends you didn’t break his heart and you pretend everything is fine.

Sunghoon smiles at you too, like you're everything he's ever had and everything he's ever lost.

“Maybe we should exchange autographs like middle schoolers trade Pokémon cards,” he says, and you both chuckle.

“Hmm, I have a feeling mines will be more valuable.”

He playfully puts a hand over his heart. “That’s hurtful, y/n, but I can’t deny that it’s also true.”

The gala was still roaring with life when you stepped out for some fresh air, you sat on concrete stairs, not caring if you got your 20,000-dollar dress dirty. You couldn't care about a lot of things lately.

You and Sunghoon had long parted ways, the conversation only lasted about five minutes before you were seated at your respective tables, you didn't see him again after that.

You’ve gotten everything you ever dreamed of at this point in your career, and you accomplished all your goals, in the beginning, it all seemed so impossible, but now that you're here and you've done it, you’re not so sure what's left anymore.

The sound of the door opening catches your attention, a tall, pale figure steps out, dressed in a purely black suit, and you recognize him instantly.

“Following me?” you prop your chin in your palm as your elbow rests on your knee, carrying the weight of your head as you tilt it playfully.

He’s not startled by the suddenness of your voice, which tells you, yes, he was looking for you.

He smiled. “Maybe.”

He sat next to you on the stairs, not caring if his 5,000-dollar suit got dirty, though it wasn't actually because he didn't care about the suit, but because he just wanted to be close to you.

You're both silent for a while, simply appreciating being in each other's presence after so long.

Or maybe it's because you don't know what to say and he has too much to say, so you settle for the piercing silence of unsaid words.

Sunghoon has been silent his whole life, but he promised himself tonight he wouldn't be.

“Was it worth it?”

Ah. There it is.

You think as the corners of your lips curl upward, you knew this question was coming, you sensed it the moment you saw him again.

If he had asked you that a year ago you would’ve said yes, no hesitation, no second thoughts, just a straight-up yes, and you would have meant it too.

Suddenly the silk fabric of your dress starts to itch your skin, your diamond embroidered heels start to hurt your feet, and your pearl jewelry feels too heavy.

In only a single minute, Park Sunghoon has stripped you of your persona, called you out for the fraud you are, and seen the real you.

And he accepted you.

You lie to save your pride, it's a habit of yours that he knows all too well.

He doesn't think you're perfect, but you would never have to be for him to love you.

“Sometimes,” you say.

You don't bother lying, he’ll know.

You had always been a good liar until Sunghoon came into your life.

He gently nods in understanding at your response, “Do you ever think about it? About us?”

With a chuckle, you reply, “Of course I do.”

It's true that sometimes leaving him is worth the life you're living now, but there are fragments of times when you imagine what your life could've been with him.

In another life, you never left Sunghoon, you got married, bought a home together, adopted a dog, and had a child.

On the surface that sounds nice, but in another life, you are a housewife with broken dreams, you bought a home together but it wasn't the one you always dreamed of because you had to compromise with Sunghoon, you adopted a dog but you were never really an animal person, and you had a child but motherhood was never for you.

In another life, you are happy to be a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought your dream home together, you adopted a dog that you both love, you had a child and you are the most loving mother.

In another life, you are not a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought a home even better than your dream home, you adopted a dog but you're more of a cat person, and you never had a child but you always wanted to be a mother.

In another life, you and Sunghoon work from home, you bought a decent home together, and although it's not your dream one, it's good enough, you adopted a cat, and you never had a child but because that's the way you liked things.

In another life, you and Sunghoon are divorced, the home you bought together is just walls and a roof with painful memories, you don't adopt any pets, and you never had a child.

In another life, Sunghoon is a househusband, you don't care about having a dream home because any place is home with him, you adopted a dog and a cat, and you had a child who has everything they could ever want.

In another life, you and Sunghoon are teenagers again falling in love for the very first time, and you have no idea what the future holds for you.

In another life, you and Sunghoon are just a little bit younger than you are now, in the kitchen of your shared apartment, and you are trying to figure out how to do laundry so all your clothes don’t turn blue again and how to properly calculate your taxes so you don’t go to prison for tax fraud.

In another life, you and Sunghoon have grown old together, and you are experts at doing laundry and taxes.

In another life, you are the bottles of salt and pepper on the table of a random diner and things are entirely less complicated.

In another life, you never meet Park Sunghoon.

The possibilities are endless, and the truth is, you never know what will happen in your life, and that's scary, but you hope in another life you learn to accept the bad just as easily as you accept the good.

“What does it look like?” he asks.

“Laundry and taxes,” you shrug.

You both laugh at that.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Taxes and laundry,” he smiles.

You both laugh again.

The party inside is completely forgotten about as you and Sunghoon spend what feels like hours just sitting and talking, until the realization that it’s time to go home dawns on you.

Sunghoon gets up first, holding his hand out for you to take, and you do, but when he helps you to your feet he doesn't let go just yet, instead, he looks into your eyes and you feel his thumb caress your knuckles.

“It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

“It was good to see you again too, Sunghoon.”

He finally lets you go and you already miss his warmth.

He almost walks away but turns to face you one last time.

With a hint of a smile on his lips, he says, “You know, in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”

And then Park Sunghoon walks out of your life forever, and you let him.

In another life, things didn't end that way.

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bibannana · 2 years

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Fives *draped on a bed in medbay*: I'm dying!

Kix *standing next to him making notes on his datapad*: You're fine. Stop being dramatic.

Fives *clutches Echo's hand*: Death had come for me vod!

Kix *shaking his head*: It's a cold.

Fives *tugging Echo closer*: Do not weep for me after I am gone!

Echo *who just wants to go get some food and sleep*: I won't.

Kix *who keeps getting distracted by Fives*: Fives, if you're dying please do so in silence.

#this happens everytime fives gets sick #echo is over him #please vod stop being a dramatic ass #fives is all never! only death can silence me!#arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #medic kix #fives #echo #kix #star wars #incorrect star wars quotes #the clone wars #tcw #clone wars #incorrect clone wars quotes #501st #501st shenanigans

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luv4fushi · 3 months

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thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.

he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.

it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.

“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”

“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.

arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.

you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.

“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”

“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”

it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”

satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”

“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.

the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.

“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.

“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.

“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.

“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”

satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”

“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”

silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.

“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”

you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”

“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”

you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.

“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”

satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.

“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”

“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”

“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”

“it’s a game!”

you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.

“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”

“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”

“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.

“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.

satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”

“love you, dummy.”

“love you too, baby.”

“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.

“yes, chef!”

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader

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silveryclear · 5 months

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MOJABI GHOST

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Ex Female Reader

CW: NSFW, Cunnilingus, Thigh and Knee Riding, Bilingual Dirty Talk, Penetration, Rough Sex, Needy, Desperate Sex, Mating Press, Cockwarming

Description: Miguel drops by your apartment after he can’t stand the silence of his penthouse. He misses you, and tonight, you’ll see just how much~

Translation done by yours truly~

Song: “MOJABI GHOST” by Tainy, ft. Bad Bunny

Smoking,

Drinking,

Fucking,

Pretending that I don’t think about you.

I don’t who I’m trying to kid,

For this feeling,

Won’t let me sleep.

And I wish,

I wish, that I could dream peacefully,

That I could dream about you.

Another night alone. Another night without you.

Miguel O'Hara looks over view of Nueva York while drinking from his third glass of whiskey on the rocks; rocks that have melted and diluted the drink that has been abandoned for thoughts about you.

The truth is that Miguel has abandoned many things because of his mind— the treacherous bitch does not stop thinking about you.

Who could ever stop thinking about you, is the question that he should be asking. But he doesn't. And he’s well aware why.

Because that would require him to accept the reality that he fucked up the only thing that had given him happiness and warmth after what had happened with his daughter. And once again, it’s something that he doesn’t allow himself to forgive.

At first, you were only a hindrance, an annoyance which he could not get rid of. You were always looking at him with that sweet expression, ready to face the next anomaly with a smile and good attitude. He couldn’t stand you. The fact that you could face every problem and tragedy, a particular characteristic of spiderpeople, without your spirit being corrupted ... he hated it. He hated it to death.

Yet, observe how easy it is for him to lie. Because in reality, he never hated you. How could he hate the one person who received him with such a unique and special warmth and affection— the woman who, one by one, took down each one of his walls, making them crumble to the ground and fall as he did when he fell in love with you. Although, too late.

He lets out a dry laugh. There is no doubt that he is Spider-Man: the people he loves never stay for long.

Isn't that how he ended up here in the first place?

He sighs, exhausted. I don't want to think anymore.

He takes a swig from the whiskey and frowns, letting out a sound of disgust from the watered down drink and decides to get back into the penthouse. He looks around.

And now what?

Fuck this pity party. Miguel may not be in his five senses at the moment, but he doesn’t think twice before activating his nanotech suit and traveling to your dimension. He doesn't know what is the right to do; If you prefer your space, that he never contacts you again. All he knows is that he cannot stand this purgatory; and that your screams and curses are better than the overwhelming silence of his apartment.

As soon as he steps out of the portal into your apartment, you can already sense each other. It is almost impossible to sneak up on a Spider person, that's why he isn’t surprised when he finds you sitting in your living room, staring at him without blinking.

"What are you doing here?" You ask without emotion after several seconds of silence.

"You know what I came for." he says as he removes his mask and approaches your figure. However, your cold look stops him in his tracks.

“I don't care. I want you to say it.” you say while you stare into his eyes sharply. He deserves it. "Be direct for once in your life."

"Hey," he warns, baring his fangs. “Don’t push it.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, ignoring his warning. "Then leave. I was clear: don't come back until you tell me how you really feel.”

"Don't you think I want to?!" Miguel shouts, frustrated; Not with you. Never with you. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, controlling his anger. When he opens his eyes, you’re surprised to see actual remorse. "I'm dying to have you in my arms again..."

You can’t help to soften your expression when you caught the frustration in his voice and how difficult it is to express his true emotions at the moment. "Then why the hesitation?" You ask softly, your voice a sweet melody to his ears. Then, a sudden thought makes your blood run cold. “...unless I wasn’t good enough for you.” Your voice trembles and you can't suppress the tears that arise.

Miguel’s face falls and without thinking twice, he runs to you and hugs you tightly, snaking an arm around your waist and his hand behind your neck. He listens as you sob into chest and he brings you even closer, his hand gently stroking your back. "Shh... no, my love, that can’t be further away from the truth." He whispers softly into your ear. "I am the one who’s not good enough for you."

Miguel lets out a dry, incredulous laugh. “I'm the worst… to cause the most wonderful woman in all of the multiverse to think the opposite…” He presses a kiss against your forehead and brings you closer to him. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please, forgive me for being such a coward.” He murmurs apologetically as he buries his face into your neck and breathes in your scent.

God, how I missed this smell~

He leans back and stares into your eyes, stroking your cheeks and wiping your tears.

"I love you," he declares, more confident than ever. "I don't want to keep loving you from afar. I don’t want to run away, fearing that one day I will lose you if it also keeps you far from my arms.” He presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and whispering the last few words full of emotion, "If I still lose you...”

"God, Miguel..." You crumble once again and hug him tightly. "I love you so much," you confess in the midst of tears. "I’m afraid too, we are both spider people, we both risk our lives to prevent Multiverse from collapsing… our job is dangerous and it is painful to think about the great possibility that I could lose you,” You look into his eyes, holding his face in your hands. "But it hurts more to have you so close, and not by my side."

"I know..." He whispers as he leans towards your sweet touch. “I'm such an idiot. I thought I was protecting you from the pain, but in reality, I hurt you even more.” He stares into your eyes, his gaze full of remorse. "You could forgive this fool in love?"

You laugh softly and Miguel swears that his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, you look at him with a mischievous smile. "Hmm, I don't know..."

Miguel groans and looks at you with desperation, as if he needed to hear that he has been forgiven to be calm. "Love, please..." He whimpers softly against your neck, kissing it sensually.

Your grin becomes wider and playful. You take his chin and make him look into your eyes. "But you sound so nice, Miguelito~” You purr. “Do it again~”

Shit...

Miguel feels how his cheeks redden and he short circuits when he hears your playful and dominant voice. It was a side of you that he had never seen. Or rather, one he never tried to get to know. He was so obsessed with controlling everything that he never realized that he kept you from expressing yourself around him.

Damn ... he definitely deserves to beg to you.

"My love..." He kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his. He looks at you with pleading eyes. "Please, I beg you... Forgive me. Let me show you how sorry I am.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of the most stoic and stubborn man in the multiverse kneeling in front of you, begging like a dog. Is this a dream? More like a miracle.

"Wow... You really missed me, didn't you, Miguelito~?"

Miguel takes your hand and kisses your palm, staring into your eyes. "You have no idea." He whispers. Your heart skips a beat, blood rushing through your veins at an extreme speed. You feel the love that this man has for you and you cannot avoid the genuine smile that grows in your face.

You place your arms around his neck and you kiss his cheek. "I forgive you. Show me exactly how sorry you are~"

It takes Miguel less than two seconds before he is on top of you, your back on the sofa while his knee separates your legs. It seems as if all your confidence disappears as soon as Miguel touches you, his large hands gripping your waist. You feel tempted to deviate your gaze, but his crimson eyes keep you paralyzed under their intensity, full of lust.

"Oh baby..." he lets out a soft growl as his lips brush against your neck, making you shiver once more. “Eres mía~” (You’re mine~)

His fingers quickly disrobe you, his lips kissing every inch of your soft skin. His breathing quickens, breathing hot and heavy as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, hand groping the other. He lets out soft grunts and moans of pleasure as he worships your chest, sucking and biting, leaving wet hot marks on your skin.

You grab onto his hair, your back arching off from the couch as he continues his assault. He lets out a particularly long groan when he feels you grind your wet pussy on his knee. He chuckles darkly and presses onto you even harder, making you shiver and moan in delight.

“That’s it mami…” he growls, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. “Grind that needy pussy on me… make yourself feel good.”

A sound of pleasure escapes from your lips. You close your eyes and decide to immerse yourself in the pleasure that both have refused for too long— no longer wanting to deprive your body of what it craves; and your heart from the one you love.

Your arms wrap around his neck, hips bucking against his clothed knee, soaking the nanotech fabric. He can only watch in awe how easy it was to reduce you to a sensitive mess— rubbing and pressing his thigh against your throbbing pussy, gripping your hips tighter as he guides you.

“Oh fuckkkk… Miguel…” The way you so readily give your body to him— it awakens a primal side to him that even he didn’t realize he had. The need to explore how many times he can make you cum without fucking you with his cock had his mind reeling from the possibilities.

Should he finger you now? Should he make you cum on his tongue? Ride his face?

“Miguel… oh Miguel~” you mewl, the squelching sound of your juices on his leg echoing in the room. Small puffs of hot air leave past your lips, your hips bucking so needy and desperate for friction.

However the night ends, what he does know is that he so desperately craves to hear you whine his name like that again.

“Come on, cariño…” he keeps rutting your hips against his thigh, now unclothed as his dick strains against the nanotech clothing that covers his groin. “What do you need~?”

“Need you…” You pant out, chest heaving rapidly. “Need you inside… please Miguel~”

He chuckles darkly. “Already? But baby, we just started~” He teases, slowing down the rubbing against your clit, making you whine in frustration.

“Fuck that! I missed you, maldito!” You growl, making Miguel’s eyes widen when you voice out your frustrations.

This makes Miguel chuckle heartedly, gazing down at you with affection and primal lust. “You missed my cock that much, baby~?”

“Not your cock. You.” This startles Miguel, actually making him blush. His chest fills with so much love and affection for you. God, he needs you so badly.

“Te amo, mi arañita…” (I love you, my little spider…) Miguel murmurs softly before leaning down and claiming your lips softly. A low moans escape from your lips as you feel just how serious he is. “Missed you… missed your touch…” he breathes out against your neck once he pulls away, his lips brushing against your skin. Miguel shivers and groans, loving the way your warm, soft skin feels against his. You can only watch as he worships you, too paralyzed by this feeling to speak. “Missed your smell…” he inhales your scent softly before pressing a kiss on your neck. “Missed your voice… let me hear it please…”

“Ahhhh… Miguel…” you find your voice, breathing out your response as your chest rises and falls rapidly, trembling underneath him.

“Fuck…” he groans from your needy voice. Miguel trails wet kisses down your hot skin, licking away your sweat. His fangs lightly graze your thighs, teasing you with his tongue. He chuckles when you arch your back, whimpering his name, begging to take you— to do something already!

He grins as he kisses the inside of your thigh. “You’ve never been very patient.”

You whine, your hand making it’s way to his hair and tugging him closer to your throbbing pussy. He chuckles and licks a long, agonizing swipe along your glistening folds, making you groan in response. “Good thing I’ve never been very patient either~”

Miguel takes his time, swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices— yet, the way that he grips your thighs, so close to digging his claws into your skin while he groans from your taste— it only makes him look more desperate and feral than when he first begged for you.

You jolt and shiver in delight, the drag of his fat, warm tongue bringing you to heights of pleasure you only had the joy of experiencing with Miguel. The feelings of pleasure were so delicious and excruciating, it makes you buck your hips against his face. You grind your pussy on his face unashamedly, his nose brushing against your clit deliciously.

Watching from below, how your hips arch and you tug harder on his hair is all that Miguel needed to die happily. His groans and harsh breathing muffled by your desperate grinding.

“Mmm… shlppp… mmnh…” His eyes remain trained on your cute expressions, a particularly harsh suck of your clit eliciting a whiny moan from you that had him reeling.

“Fuck… Miguel…! I’m so close!” You whine so pretty and needy. His claws digging dig into your thighs, pressing his face harder against your cunt as he eats you out like an animal.

Miguel moans against your cunt, murmuring for you to cum on his tongue, to do it now. It comes out a wet, muffled mess, but you didn’t care. You were already a moaning mess as you came, spreading your juices all over Miguel’s face. His tongue works on your core like a man dying of thirst, lapping up every drop of your juices and overstimulating the fuck out of you. He never came up for air, submerged between your thighs, delving his tongue deeper, sucking harder. This is where he belongs.

“Mi— Miguel! It’s too much..!” You whine, trying to push his head away but he’s glued to your pussy— and he’s not moving until he’s licked you clean.

After a few more seconds, he gives your pussy one last lick before he comes back up, his tongue hanging out as he smiles smugly. You twitch and writhe underneath him from the overstimulation, gazing at him with a satisfied and dazed expression. He tantalizingly drags his long tongue around his mouth, lips, chin… cleaning up your cum from his face, making sure you watch. “Dios mío, que rico sabes mami~” (My god, you taste delicious mami~)

You whimper, your hole twitching at the erotic display. Miguel watches as your pussy flutters with primal lust, smiling at you like a predator. “You liked that, baby? Do you still want more?”

Before you could respond, Miguel is on top of you, claiming your lips in a hot, sensual kiss. You groan at the taste of yourself on his lips, this only turning you on even further. He grips your ass, bringing your wet core towards his now fully unclothed and erect cock.

“Mmmngh… mmnh… ahhhhh…” You whimper into the kiss as he grinds his cock against your sensitive folds, spreading your juices all over.

“You want this cock, baby? Huh? I can’t hear you. Tell me how badly you want me. Tell me. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” Miguel whispered into your ear as he kept grinding himself against you, teasing you once again. You can only cry out, frustration building up inside of you as you feel your hole squeezing against nothing, craving his thick cock.

“Please… Miguel…”

“Dime lo que quieres preciosa… ¿quieres que te lo meta? ¿Sí? ¿Quieres que te coja?” (Tell me what you want, precious… you want me to put it in? Yeah? You want me to fuck you?)

“Yes, Miguel! Just… please!”

As much as he loves teasing you, he needed to nestle his cock inside of you. Right. Now.

“M’gonna bury this cock deep inside you… make sure your pussy remembers the shape of my cock…” He chuckles as he lines himself up with your hole and slowly pushes his cock past that first, tight ring inside your cunt. “Fuck… such a tight fit… bet you didn’t fuck anyone with a dick as big as mine…” he groans and pushes further. “no other cock can stretch you out like mine can…”

“No one… only you…” you breathe out in satisfaction as you finally feel your pussy getting full. “M’so full…”

Miguel lets out a string of curses and groans at the feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him. “Yeah, that’s right baby… only my cock can fill you up this good.” He smirks as he looks down at you, caged between his arms and large body. “Gonna let me fuck this pussy, huh? Want me to pound you until you can’t think?”

“Yes, Miguel! Yes!”

That’s all the confirmation he needed before he started rutting his hips against yours at a fast pace. No time to start slow, no. This is the type of desperate and primal sex that lovers have after they’ve gone a long time without seeing each other. The type that builds up overtime only to be released in the heated thrust of each other’s hips. The type that has you moaning out gibberish and wrapping your arms and legs around him as Miguel thrusts his hard cock inside, going feral on your pussy.

“Fuck… I missed this… I missed you…” Miguel grunts with every thrust, small puffs of air leaving his lips as he ruts even faster, deeper. His muscles flex with every movement. He presses his hot body against yours, feeling your tits brush against his chest with every thrust.

“M-Miguel… please… harder!” You moan, digging your nails into his broad back.

“Yes…” his voice is so rough, so hungry that it’s almost jarring. Every word he says, every look on his face seems to radiate his intense feelings for you.

He needs you, oh, does he need you.

His arms are like steel on your body, keeping you still within his grasp, and he makes you feel every inch of him, pounding himself into you in a frenzy. This is what he had been looking for, needing. He fills your entire existence for just a moment, completely and utterly enraptured by you.

“Te amo… te amo tanto…” (I love you… I love you so much…) he whispers into your ear, biting and sucking on it. One of his hands makes its way between your legs as he rubs your clit. “Ven conmigo, bebé… I need you to cum with me…” (Come with me, baby…)

“Miguel! Ohh… I’m g- Mmm… Ahhhh~!” Your moans are muffled by his lips against yours. The pounding of his cock, his thumb rubbing your pussy, and this hot, searing kiss was all you needed to finally let go. Squelching hot cum bathes Miguel’s cock and balls as you tremble and writhe in ecstasy.

“That’s it, baby… god, you did so good…” he groans, placing your forehead against his as he ruts his hips faster. Grunting as he chases his own release. Not long after, Miguel is cumming inside your pussy, spurting hot loads of his cum so deep you can feel it in your womb. The moans he lets out sound so raw and desperate, you feel like you’re watching a whole other person.

He sighs in satisfaction, pressing a kiss on your forehead before laying down besides you. He pulls you into his body, his cock twitching as he keeps it nestled deep inside your cunt.

“Fuck… I don’t think I’ve ever come this much…” Miguel lets out a breathy laugh and you look at him in awe. The afterglow of your session makes him look so… ethereal. You blush and involuntarily clench your pussy around his cock.

Miguel chuckles. “I felt that, preciosa~”

You roll your eyes and look away from him, flustered. “Then take it out!”

“Mmm… why should I~? I very much prefer having you close like this.” Miguel inhales in your scent and presses a tender kiss on your neck. The action flusters you further, making you blush at his sweetness and his opposing teasing.

“Te amo, mi vida…” (I love you, my life..) He whispers softly as he closes his eyes, bringing you closer into his embrace.

You smile softly and close your eyes as well, slowly dozing off. Not before you utter the same words back, “Te amo, Miguelito~”

A/N: A little fun fact: this fic was originally written in Spanish first because I wanted to practice writing (specifically smut) in my native language. I might end up posting both languages on AO3.

#fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #smut #smut writing

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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

Text

Baby Fangs

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.

Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs

Alethaine's age: 5 month

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.

Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.

It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.

“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”

“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”

“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”

The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.

Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?

His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?

Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.

Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.

The baby starts coughing.

Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.

Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.

There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.

Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.

“So what do we do?” he asks.

“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.

He nods.

Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”

Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.

Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.

There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.

It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.

"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."

“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”

“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”

“She is an elf like I was before I died.”

When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.

But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.

But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?

But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.

So can her parents.

“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.

Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.

“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”

Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.

Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.

Demanding.

This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.

Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.

“Tiriel, what are you doing?”

Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.

And then her dark eyes turn red.

They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.

Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.

The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.

And then Alethaine laughs.

She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.

The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.

“Astarion, look at her gums.”

Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.

“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”

Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.

But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.

Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.

Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?

Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.

** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.

The tears prickle his eyes.

He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.

“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.

Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.

Then he hears footsteps from behind.

“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.

“Adding fangs to her toy.”

Tiriel sits beside him.

“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices

“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”

“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”

“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”

“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”

“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”

“We should have found the cure before making a child.”

“But we didn’t find any.”

Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”

“I am all pointy ears, my love.”

“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”

“Tiriel, I would never - “

“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”

“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”

“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”

Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.

“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”

The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.

Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.

He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.

"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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daycourtofficial · 1 month

Text

Forever is the sweetest con

Cassian x reader, Azriel x reader

Summary: based on this request - the war with Hybern claimed the life of your husband. Reeling with grief, you discover that you’re pregnant. His brother and your friend, Azriel, begins spending more and more time with you, finding solace in each other amidst your shared grief.

Author’s note: sadness, sadness, sadness, this one took me ages to write bc it’s so fucking sad 😭 I’m not super happy with this bc I was mostly trying to meet the deadline so this might feel disjointed bc I had to kinda skip around a lot. Also I didn’t tag this as Cassian x reader in tags bc it felt too painful to do that

Word count: 3k

Warnings: character death, unexpected pregnancy, honestly just sadness

“I’m Cassian.”

A large, handsome male greeted you as you were shelving some new books away. His large outstretched hand reached towards you, waiting in the air for a moment as you set the stack of books in your arms down. Your hand gets lost in the warmth of his, telling him your own name.

He smiles at it, repeating it, testing it on his tongue.

For days, that is the only memory playing in your head. It is what you think of as you lay in your shared bed, his scent still lingering. It is what you think when Feyre picks you up, and her and Mor place you in a bathtub as they clean you. It is what you think of as you stare at the ceiling, hoping it will collapse on you.

It is what you think of as you stand between Rhysand and Azriel at Cassian’s memorial. It is what you think of as they lower the casket into the ground, the citizens of Velaris standing around to pay their respects.

You don’t notice the hundreds of people who come to offer you a silent nod, a gentle prayer over you, their voices carrying gentle choruses of “he was so brave” and “you should be proud”.

You’re too numb for any of this. You’re too numb to recognize the hand Azriel places on your back, or the hand Feyre clasps into your own, squeezing tightly.

All you can think about is how his hand felt in your own the first time you held it - warm, gentle, comforting. And how it felt the last time you held it - cold, lifeless, gone.

Being a war hero came with a cost.

Only Cassian didn’t have to pay it - those he left behind did.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Cassian died. You’re not sure if the people of Velaris still mourned him, or were simply wearing the traditional colors of their court.

You sat in one of Cassian’s old tunics, piles of clothes scattered on the floor around you. Your back was to the wall, its cool surface warming with your heat.

You hear movement in the house, but you don’t have the energy or ability to care who’s here.

Someone knocks gently before coming into the room, Azriel’s large frame coming through the door to your chambers. He sees the slightly ajar closet door, and shimmies his way in, sitting next to you amidst the pile of clothes on the floor.

He notes that they all seemed to have been pulled right off their hangers, in a fit of rage or desperation perhaps. Shades of black and red litter the floor, and the realization that it was all Cassian’s clothes causes him to take in a deep breath.

You two sit for a while, Azriel’s wings likely cramped in the small space. Mother knows Cassian complained if he spent more than five minutes in your closet.

Azriel just sits in silence, his shadows gently swirling the floor, searching through the piles.

For what, you’re not sure.

You finally speak, the words hard to form. You didn’t speak much these days - your voice a rare sound for your family’s ears.

“He doesn’t need them to be hung up anymore.”

Azriel sighs, shifting closer to you. He gauges you, looking for a reaction before moving a bit closer.

“He never needed them hung up. Before you he mostly just left his clothes strewn about the room. Drove Nuala and Cerridwen mad.”

You look at him, pulled from your trance of that black shirt Cassian wore when the two of you went on vacation in Adriada. The shirt that fit him so well the two of you did not see the beach at all for the five days you were there.

“They’d complain, saying every night he’d pull his clothes that they neatly hung up and the next morning they’d be strewn about his room,” he shrugs, still confused over how Cassian kept track of where everything was.

“Eventually Rhys told them to stop and to let Cassian do what he wants. No idea how he managed to stay neat and tidy with you.”

Your eyes meet his, and he reaches out a hand for you. It’s the first offer of help you’ve accepted in days. You keep his hand in yours for a long time, sitting amongst Cassian’s clothes.

You were sitting on the small balcony of your home, looking out at the expansive night sky above you. Elbows on knees, collapsing in on yourself.

Eyes red rimmed, tear tracks marking your face. You had never felt so helpless or as hopeless as you did now. Your eyes snag on a dark figure, soaring through the skies, its body getting closer and closer.

Azriel had taken to checking on you every three days now. Make sure you were eating, washing, and moving. Honestly if it weren’t for these biweekly check ins, you’re not sure how you would be faring.

The Illyrian descends next to you, a soft landing as he tucks his wings back in and sits next to you. You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the night a melody playing for just you two.

Velaris is dark, few fae lights scattered throughout the city aglow. You breathe deeply, taking in the smell of Azriel next to you. You should tell him, but you haven’t been able to tell anyone all week.

It was eating you up - you knew they’d be supportive, you knew they’d love you and help you in anyway they could. But it would still break their hearts just a bit more.

Your internal debate is ended by the overwhelming turn of your stomach, your lunch from earlier wanting to make a quick exit. You hurriedly get up, running towards your bathroom and throwing yourself on your toilet, narrowly reaching it in time.

Azriel ran after you, making quick work of grabbing your hair before you began your second wave of vomiting. The only sounds in the room are your retching and Azriel’s soothing tunes.

His other hand gently rubs your back as you feel as if you’re going to die. From embarassment or pain, you’re not sure. He waits for you to say what he already suspects, having noted a subtle shift in your scent when he arrived.

You wipe your mouth, not wanting to say the words aloud. The words that Madja had told you three days ago, the words that caused you to shut down until now.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, head leaning against the toilet seat. “All Cass wanted was to be a dad. Now I’m pregnant and he’s dead.”

A forced laugh comes from you.

“It’s not fair, Az.”

Your words hang in the air, and your friend responds by wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, his breath shuddering as he cries softly into your hair.

The two of you lay there, the cool bathroom tile digging imprints into your skin as he holds you, tears streaming from both of you.

Several months along in your pregnancy, and Azriel has essentially moved in with you full time. He takes meticulous care of you and the babe - he goes to your appointments with Madja with you, he goes baby shopping with you, he even put together the crib in your room.

He was your late husband’s brother. He was stepping up, knowing that Cassian would want him to help you. And yet your dreams wouldn’t stop being so perverse.

For the past month, every night without fail you dreamt of Azriel. Every dream was different - some of places you’ve gone before, places you only know of because Azriel described them.

The dreams were weird and disorienting, but you left them there. They were dreams.

About how beautiful he was. About his hands, his wings, his shoulders, his thighs.

Every day you’d wake up full of shame at where your mind takes you against your will.

“Az,” you say, a serious look on your face. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks over to you, glasses perched on his nose. The knife in his hand clatters, landing on the cutting board, a piece of carrot tumbling to the floor as he moves to you quickly.

Your breathing becomes more shallow, and you hold your hands out, reaching for his. Once his fingers reach yours, you bring his hands to your bump.

Just as he’s about to ask what the problem is, he feels a soft thump against his scarred hand. He can’t control the soft laugh that comes from him, and he can’t help but cradle your bump just a little tighter.

He looks back up to you, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought something was wrong.”

You smile, “I know - that’s what makes it fun.”

Almost eight months had passed since Cassian’s death, and you were finally able to hear his name without breaking down. Azriel was the only one you would talk to about him, though.

It felt right to talk about Cassian to Azriel. It felt right to plunge yourself back into the memories of him - his boisterous laugh, his insistence on touching someone at all times, his presence in rooms.

It felt right, and the babe in your belly would kick frequently whenever Azriel spoke to you about Cassian, as if they knew who you were talking about.

It felt so right, and yet so wrong. Every night before bed you replayed the memories of the day, desperately trying to insert Cassian into Azriel’s spot in them.

He never fit perfectly into them, the edges of him not quite the right size.

This was too much.

You were an absolute fool to believe you could do this. To not only birth but to raise your dead husband’s babe. Who let you do this? Who thought this was a good idea?

“Hey.”

Azriel’s voice vibrates through you, pulling you from your thoughts, his large frame behind you. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms helping hold your legs up.

You lean your head against him.

“This was a terrible, terrible idea.”

He smiles, “Cassian never was known for good ideas.”

Your face contorts in agony, a strong cramping pain rippling through you.

Azriel takes the wet cloth from the nurse to his left, holding it on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

You scoff, “if I was doing well, the babe would be out by now!”

Azriel takes your jabs, your sarcasm, the intense squeezing of his hand in yours. He’ll take everything you throw at him.

After about eight hours, you were blessed by the cauldron with a beautiful boy, tiny wings clinging to his back as he cried.

Azriel’s presence didn’t stop after the babe, Camden, was born. If anything, he spent more time with you. He delegated much of his work as spymaster to support you, even going so far as helping coordinate schedules for Feyre or Nesta to help you bathe.

In the first few weeks, you were able to move around, but you were utterly exhausted. Not just the physical demands of your babe and recovering from birthing a winged babe, but also the emotional toll this took on you left you unable to care much for yourself.

You had thought being bathed would make you feel like a burden, but Feyre and Nesta did everything to make you feel so loved instead. They lit candles, rubbed your back, and told you how proud of you they were constantly. Their words never failed to make you cry, the task at hand feeling impossible if you thought about it too hard.

Eventually, after weeks of sleepless nights, feeling like nothing more than a cow for milk, you and Azriel were able to settle into a routine.

He took care of the babe at night, allowing you decent sleep. He brought Camden to you for his middle of the night feedings. You took care of Camden during the morning through early afternoon while Azriel attended to his duties. The two of you cooked dinner together, Azriel always insisting on washing dishes afterwards.

After a while, it all felt so normal. As if Cassian was never meant to be here for this part.

A few months after your son’s first birthday all Hell broke loose. It was a regular day. The sun still shone as it always does, your son was as beautiful as ever. Azriel was holding Camden in the air, helping him stretch out his wings, when he spoke for the first time.

A soft dada accompanied the little boy’s giggles, followed by Azriel stiffening immediately. You looked to the shadowsinger, and when his eyes met yours, you knew.

As if a golden thread appeared out of thin air, tying a knot from Azriel to you, you could feel him. You pulled an experimental tug in the bond, and he pulled back.

Wide eyes meet each other from across the room, silent except for Camden’s continued giggles. You stare at him bewildered, your expression mirrored back to you on his face.

A high pitched noise starts ringing in your eyes before everything goes black.

“It’s a bit of a cruel joke,” you say. “I want to love him, I want to be with my mate. But what kind of person does that to her deceased husband?”

You had woken up in Rhys’s office twenty minutes ago to your head in Feyre’s lap, her hands gently running through your hair.

You had heard bits of hushed conversation, and you thought you had heard Az, but when you came to, he was nowhere to be seen.

Rhys looks contemplative before saying, “you of all people should know that Cassian would have wanted you to be happy.”

You put your head in your hands, gathering to courage to say your worst thoughts out loud.

“It feels like Cassian died for me. I know he didn’t, but I can’t help but feel like if he had survived, would Azriel still be my mate? He would have let me be with him, yes, but just.”

You sigh, trying to grab the fragmented thoughts in your head and place them together. Rhys lets you, allowing silence to fill the room.

“It would have killed him having to watch me choose Azriel over him. He would have done the respectable thing, he would have stepped back. He would have been happy for us.”

You sigh, “but if it were the other way, if Nesta or Elain were his mate, I’m not sure I could give him up.”

Your words come pouring out quickly before you begin sobbing. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His hands wrap around your head, and he gently smooths your hair down.

“Feyre and I are immensely happy for you, despite the circumstances. Both of you. I know you might not feel like it, but you made your own family.”

You found Azriel a few hours later in what used to be his room in the townhouse. He hardly stayed here, hardly stayed at any of Rhys’s estates anymore, opting instead for the comfort of the home you two now shared.

“Hi,” you say tentatively, stepping through the door.

“Hi,” he echos back, turning to see you.

“Crazy day,” you say, pulling lightly on the bond. He cracks a smile, but there’s a sadness deep in his gaze that you haven’t seen in months.

He moves towards you, slow and deliberate steps, as if you were a bunny found in the woods easily scared off.

“Do you want this?” He asks, eyes focused on your own.

You nod your head. He nods back.

“I dreamt of you. For months, years even. Since about halfway through my pregnancy, you’ve been in my dreams most nights.”

He watches you speak, letting you say whatever it is you need to. You take a deep breath before continuing.

“I don’t want to forget Cass, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re replacing him. I can love both of you.”

He steps closer, slowly moving towards you until he’s stopped right in front of you, his wings blocking you in.

“It’s unconventional, I understand. And I understand if you don’t want a widow with a child.” You look up towards him, determination in your eyes. “But I am all in.”

He gently cups your cheek, eyes full of conflict. “It won’t be easy,” he muses.

“Nothing about this has been easy, why start now?”

His face slowly moves closer to yours, his lips gentle against your own. His hands still hold you gently, as he kisses you long and slow.

There would be time for passion later, his kiss now is full of the emotions words can’t convey. Adoration, sacrifice, immense grief.

You thought having Azriel kiss you would make you feel like you were betraying Cassian. Instead you feel an overwhelming sense of rightness as your hands cup his jaw back, pouring every ounce of you into him.

You and Azriel look out at your backyard, watching Nyx and Camden run around, play fighting with their swords. The two boys occasionally take short flights, only about a foot or so off the ground.

Azriel wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes, letting yourself feel this moment, allowing the sounds of the boys playing and your mate’s breathing to lull you into some form of peace you never thought you’d find again.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month

Text

Escape Is Mandatory

platonic Spencer Reid x geniusbau!reader | part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Summary: prison changed Spencer, and along with it were a couple of horrible choices bau!reader refused to tolerate, hence a threat to their years of friendship. But all of it disappeared as soon as an unsub threatened your life.

Warning: details of death, violence, and infidelity; curse word(s)

A/N: I can't believe it has been over a year since I posted this mini-series (me just disappearing out of nowhere, lol). This draft has been sitting for a year. I never published it because it felt boring (I still do, somehow), but I wanted to celebrate the series reaching a year old HAHA! Anywaysss, as usual, this might be heavy, so be mindful when reading. It's not my gif; credits to the owner :)

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Luther Gerard grinned maniacally, leaning against his seat, "Let me guess... sister? Oh, but she's too pretty to be related to you." His cuffed hand caressed your picture on the table, "Lover, perhaps?"

Spencer's jaw clenched, "Where. Is. She?" His palms were itchy, breathing steadily as he kept them flat on the table.

This unsub was unlike any other serial killer he had encountered. Luther Gerard, age 38, is an average plumber but one hell of a genius, almost as dangerously intelligent as Spencer, with 186 IQ.

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was terrified to the bone. Because this time, the unsub had 83.248% outsmarting him, and the victim was you.

"Anyone wanna hear how I picked her up?" Luther glanced at the two-sided mirror, chuckling, "I'll take the silence as a yes."

He looked at Spencer straight in his eyes, "It was dim, but not too much. She was 40 feet away from the precinct entrance... 15 from you. She looked pretty mad when she turned her back, but she looked so hurt walking away. I can remember her tears. Oh, they were sweet and just a little salty. She knew I was there for her. She was going to scream for you. But what can I say? She was a second too slow. I was going to get your attention but she looked so good unconscious in my arms."

"You sick son of a bitch—"

It took Luke, Matt, and three police officers to hold Spencer back. His face was red, and Luke swore he was breathing fire. His knuckles were white as he grabbed Luke's shirt and a bit of the skin on Matt's arm.

Spencer escaped from being pinned by five people with minimal struggle, grabbing Luther's collar to the point of suffocation. "Where the hell is she?! Tell me where!"

Luther laughed out loud, watching as Spencer crumbled into an angry mess. "Listen here, Dr. Reid... you can be a point smarter than me as long as you can, but she will always be two points dumber than me. She'll die in that fucking warehouse."

Emily barged into the interrogation room, "Reid." She gestured at Matt to take him out of the room, leaving Luke to get the answers they'd been looking for the past five hours.

Spencer aggressively shrugged Matt's hands on his shoulders, "I can walk," His voice grew a little softer than seconds ago, but his tone still crunched with anger.

As soon as the door shut, Spencer turned to Emily, "She's dying out there."

"You're not the only one who's worried. She's our friend, too, you know. But we won't find her if you let your emotions take over you." Emily took a deep breath, giving him a concerned look.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm not worried. I'm scared." He dropped his head, letting a cruel sigh pass his shivering lips.

Despite his attempt to reinsert himself in the interrogation room, Emily forbade him from coming in contact with the unsub for the rest of the evening. So, he stood next to JJ in the conference room, trying to save you in the best way he knew how: geographic profiling.

"I should've known," Spencer mumbled under his breath.

JJ turned to him, "Did you find something?" She scanned the board in front of them, hoping that she'd see what Spencer was seeing.

Spencer loosened his tie, "The victims. The location. I should've figured it out the moment we briefed about the case. It should've clicked." He guiltily looked at JJ, "I should've kept her safe."

"Spence," JJ spoke motherly. "None of us knew she was the target. You have to know that none of this is your fault." She gave him a kind look, something he knew well to differ whether it was out of pity or genuine compassion.

"But it is my fault..." He averted his eyes from her. He couldn't bear to look at anyone in their eyes, much less the thought of yours, filled with tears from his stupidity.

JJ's eyebrows gently knitted, "Did something happen the last time you saw her?"

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

2 days ago...

The afternoon's fifth hour barely struck, yet the sky was already dark. The lampposts around the precinct were enough light to at least keep you and Spencer from tripping.

None of you have said a word for the past three minutes. You even missed Emily's nod. Both of you were too occupied to care. You: with the obscene sight you just witnessed and the burning itch to smack the back of his head. Spencer: with whatever internal conflict he was going through after coming back from prison, he refused to talk to anyone about.

With every step away from the might as well named crime scene, your lips slowly unfastened. Spencer had barely clicked the SUV's key when you began.

"She's married."

"She's unhappily married."

Your eyebrows clashed, "That's not an excuse, Reid. Your wrinkly brain knows that."

"Can't you just mind your own business?" Spencer rolled his eyes, treating your conversation lighter than you wanted him to.

"I would have if only you did," You looked at him with utter disbelief. No amount of blinking would erase the sight forever etched in the back of your curse of a photographic memory. "Her unhappy marriage was her business. That was her and her husband's business."

Spencer was growing impatient with you. The signs were easy to catch. His knotted forehead. Thoughtless glare. Clenched hands deep in his pockets. An obvious Spencer-is-pissed-at-you special tell.

He straightened his back, "I was just helping her out."

"Holy shit—" You scoffed a baffled chuckle, "Are you hearing yourself? Adultery and sympathy are not the same, Reid. What the hell has gotten into your head?"

Ordinary people wouldn't have cared. Luke and Matt would disagree and judge Spencer's stupid choices but would've kept their mouths shut. Emily and David would spit a bit of advice on how morally wrong he was, but they would have minded their own business for the most part. Tara would've been disgusted but refused to get herself involved. JJ and Penelope would have been utterly disappointed and angry at him, but they wouldn't have missed a chance to make up with him.

You, however, felt nauseatingly repugnant. Years of friendship felt like a thin layer of ice loudly breaking. He knew most of your uninteresting and failed romance. How often has he lent you a back to bury your face on? The number of times he's caught not two but four of your short-term lovers shamelessly cheating. He knew well enough, too much even.

"You know what I think?" He chuckled evilly. And you knew then he was aiming for your throat. "I think you're just jealous because you don't have the aptitude to get over your dead boyfriend."

Your jaw dropped. You half-expected him to say those words, but it still surprised you. It still stung. Your tears were fighting to flow, but you had enough self-respect to not do it before him, not with his shitty attitude, at least.

You gripped the hem of your blazer, "You're a jerk. That's what you are." You took a sharp breath, biting the overflowing ache on your chest. "Come back when you've got something for the case."

A second didn't pass after you turned your back on him, and the tears immediately trailed down your face. You walked out of the parking lot as fast as you could. Crying in front of your childhood classmates felt more gratifying than in front of Spencer.

Wiping the unwanted tears from your cheeks, your feet came to a halt without warning. Something about the fifteen-foot distance from Spencer's back and the forty-foot gap from the entrance to the precinct left you terrifyingly vulnerable.

Your gears began turning.

Victims were awfully close to your build.

You're in your hometown.

And it clicked a second too late.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Spence!" JJ gently shook Spencer back to reality. As soon as she knew he was back down to earth, she immediately spoke, "They found another body—"

Spencer flew out of the door before JJ could even finish speaking. He went to Luke, who was on his way to one of the SUVs. "Where?" He asked in a rush. His heart was beating right in his ear. A series of negative thoughts filled his head.

Luke had a few seconds to tell Spencer where the said body was but quickly interrupted Spencer's thoughts. "We don't know anything yet, Reid."

"But what if it's her?" Spencer snapped. He had little patience for anyone. All he knew was how important it was to see a body that's not you.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Fuck!" You cried in a shattered voice.

Tears flowed nonstop down your face, along with your own blood dripping from the top of your horribly bandaged head. Luther Gerard was evil enough to let you bleed slowly to death.

Unbeknownst to him, you were the most stubborn person in the entire BAU team. You bled your way out of the place he locked you in, cursing the pain off your chest.

You have been loosening the barbwire wrapped around your feet with your bare hands for the past hour. Your hands and your feet had gotten skinned off from the sharp metal.

Hope was on your side, though, as you felt your left foot painfully slide off the wrap. You cried out in joy, holding your ankles tight as if the pain would immediately dissipate.

You wiped your tears off your face, smearing blood from your palm onto your skin. You laughed, already delirious from lack of blood. "I'm going to break your neck once I find you. Then I'll beat the hell out of Reid for taking his goddamn time."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer felt relief wash over him as soon as he glanced at the lifeless woman being pulled out of the creek. It may have been messed up that he was thankful a different woman died, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

He and Luke drove back to the precinct with a little less tense chests. They may not have found you, but the fact that you weren't the body they found meant one thing. You were still alive. That's all that mattered.

"We'll find her," Luke broke the silence between them, glancing at Spencer from his peripheral. "She's stubborn. She won't let anyone hurt her without punching back. She's probably on her way back to the precinct." He attempted to lighten the mood.

Spencer took a deep breath, "She better be." He looked outside of the car, biting his lower lip. "She has to escape wherever she is. It's mandatory. I'm not letting her die without finishing our argument."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

It's been two days of searching every nook and cranny of your little hometown, but the team hasn't gotten anywhere in finding you.

Each member was exhausted, especially Spencer. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. He couldn't even if he tried to.

They were running out of ideas. But like every single cases the BAU team had, you knew how to turn things around. Their wake snapped up as gasps echoed in the entire precinct.

The team rushed to see the commotion and almost burst into tears as soon as they saw you.

"Oh my god..." JJ whimpered under her breath as she clasped her mouth.

You stood there by the entrance, bloodied up and half-conscious. You held the door's handle tight, painting it with your dirty blood as it kept you up on your feet. They could barely recognize your face from the mixture of blood and dirt on your face.

Despite your pitiful, bloodied state, you managed to show them your temper. "You better have caught that bastard." You growled weakly.

Your body was shaking from exhaustion. Just as you slipped out of consciousness, Spencer rushed to catch your body.

Tara called for a medic while Emily went to your aid. Luke and Matt went straight to work things out and give Gerard the worst news he's ever going to receive: it turns out you weren't as dumb as he wanted you to be.

Spencer gently wiped your face with his sleeve. He didn't care if it was his favorite shirt. All he cared about was how his best friend stubbornly stayed alive.

When Emily sat next to him to keep you off the floor, she saw just how much your friendship meant to Spencer. She squeezed his shoulder, "She's back safe with us, Reid. She'll be alright."

Her words prompted Spencer's sobs, tears trickling onto your face in hopes that it would wash the hell you went through for the past days. He quickly wiped them off, though. He knew well enough how you'd react to his 'filthy tears' coming in contact with your skin.

"Yeah, you better clean it off," You mumbled with your eyes closed, gripping the hem of his cardigan vest. You couldn't let yourself pass out, knowing you had a severe wound on your head.

Spencer choked a laugh, "Took you long enough. I thought I would have to save your ass." He sniffed as he let the paramedics transfer you onto a crash cart.

You scoffed, turning into a short series of coughs. "Just admit it. You can't figure things out without my brain power. Your brain's getting smooth, Reid. Prodigy no more."

The team couldn't help but roll their eyes at you and Spencer's banter, bouncing back faster than your recovery. Although they hated to admit it, they preferred the two of you that way rather than apart.

"I'm glad you're safe..." Spencer's voice became softer. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself from tearing up. This was the second time he'd cried nonstop. The first time being the love of his life's death.

He was glad this time wasn't due to someone important's death. He didn't know how he'd handle it if the person he could always rely on would leave him of this world.

As you were dragged into the ambulance, you gave all the rest of your strength to glare at Spencer. "Don't think you're off the record. After I deal with Gerard, you're next."

"Is it mandatory?" He sarcastically stated, jumping into the ambulance the moment you were settled in. He couldn't bear to leave you out of his sight.

#ssa spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #criminalminds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x self insert #fem!reader #dr spencer reid #platonic #spencer x reader #spencerreid

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gejo333 · 11 months

Text

Jealousy

Miguel x fem! Spider! Reader

Pt. 2

Summary: You spend all your time training the new recruit which makes Miguel jealous. 🤭

Extremely light fluff.

It’s been a while since I did one-shots. But reading so many amazing Miguel fanfics sparked my passion again. I stayed up late finishing it, so I apologize in advance if I made any grammatical mistakes.

Miguel x reader one shots requests are open.

word count: 1.4k

————————————————————————

Miguel began to grow annoyed by how quiet his office at the Spider HQ had become in recent days. Before you came into his life, he liked the silence. But for the past year he has heard your sweet voice echo through these walls. Your laugh, your rants…he enjoyed listening to you.

While he worked, you would usually be near him trying to help in any way you could. You would watch one or two of the screens to help find anomalies to help ease his stress. During your early days here you were lost, which at the time greatly annoyed Miguel. But your persistence on helping him, finally had him cave as he then taught you a few things you could monitor. After that, you became part of his daily life. You always tried to ask him questions about himself, which bothered him at first, but now he cherished the conversations he had with you.

Except, in the past five days you have barely been around. Most likely because you were mentoring the newest recruit, Gwen. You were so excited when Miguel brought Gwen to HQ. Finally someone you can mentor. However, your attention towards the young female spider made another spider jealous.

“I don’t get it. How do you shoot your web like that without looking in that direction?” Gwen huffed in annoyance as for the tenth time she couldn’t do what the older female spider could. You chuckled at her frustration.

“It takes a lot of practice Gwen. It took me months to perfect that skill. I only showed this skill to you this afternoon.” You shot your web out, grabbing a water bottle without even glancing in the direction. You then tossed it to Gwen.

“Let’s take a small break and then we’ll continue your training.”

“Awesome!” Gwen tried again to shoot her web out like you did but she frowned when she heard Pavitr yell in surprise. Her web landed on the side of his face, scaring the poor spider half to death.

“Sorry Pavitr.” Gwen cringed which made you laugh at the scene.

“All good Gwen.” Pavitr chuckled as he removed the web.

“I see your learning from the best Gwen.” Hobie walked over, curious about what the trio was doing.

“Yep! Hopefully I can be as awesome of a spider-woman as her one day.” Gwen smiled. You pulled her into a hug from how adorable she was.

“Aww Gwen! You’re so sweet! But you already are an amazing spider woman.”

“Get use to the hugs Gwen. She’s a hugger.” Hobie chuckled as he saw Gwen slightly surprised by your gesture.

“Hey Y/N?” asked Gwen.

“What’s up?”

“Who taught you all your cool tricks?”

“I’m actually curious as well.” said Pavitr.

“I never told you guys?”

“Nope. But I thought you were just naturally gifted.” said Hobie.

“You’re sweet Hobie, but nope. I was once an amaterr too. I was taught by-” You paused when you saw Lyla appear right next to you. “Speak of the devil.” You mumbled out loud. Your comment earned you a few confused glances from the young group of spiders.

“What does he want now?”

Ever since you started training Gwen this week, Lyla has appeared multiple times a day telling you the same thing. Miguel wanted you back at the office.

When he sent Lyla to do this at the beginning of the week you complied. But you quickly realised he only wanted you back in the office for no particular task. Today it was the fourth time Lyla has graced her presence during Gwen’s training today.

“Same thing. I’m assuming it's the same response?” Lyla sighed.

“Yep.” With that she was gone. You sighed, hoping it was the last time she appeared today.

“Wait, hold up. Miguel O’Hara. Mr. Grump. Trained you?” Pavitr's eyes widened, jaw open.

“He did. And he isn’t a grump all the time. You just have to get to know him a bit better.”

“Oh God, training with him must have been hellish.” Hobie chuckled.

You chuckled remembering the first few weeks of your spider training with Miguel. Hobie wasn’t wrong. Miguel was not the most patient and easy-going instructor. At least for the first couple of months.

“It's ok if you need to go back to the office. He seems like he needs your help.” Said Gwen.

“I don’t need to be at the office. My time is more important here, training you to kick-ass!” You ruffled her hair slightly, which she tried to swat your hand away. Gwen didn't have an older sister. But definitely felt like Y/n was her sister.

“Breaks over! Now let's see how long you can last hanging from your web.”

Gwen began her endurance training as you timed her. Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Jess. She looked nervous.

“You alright Jess? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. I’m just worried about what's going to happen to you. Miguel is looking for you. And he looks more annoyed than he normally is.” Jess chuckled.

“Thanks for the heads up Jess. I’ll handle him later when I’m done. You got this Gwen. Hold on a little-” You gasp as large hands grab you by the waist and throw you over a well-built shoulder.

“Miguel! Put me down!” You bang your fists against his back. You gasp from him pinching your cheek to make you stop.

“Y/n?!” Gwen asked, confused why her mentor was slinged over the boss’ shoulder. Jess stopped her from going after you as she chuckled. That poor spider was going to get it tonight.

“Pay up Hobie. I won the bet.” Pavitr pushed out his arm towards Hobie, asking for the money.

“Now hold on. You both lose. I said he would get her in five days. You said a week, Pavitr.” Jess grinned, to which both disappointed teenagers handed her the winnings.

“What just happened…” said Gwen.

…

Miguel enters his quarters where he finally removes you from his shoulder, setting you down. Your cheeks were red, from the embarrassing journey here. Being carried like that in front of all her colleagues. It was humiliating.

You notice Miguel went into his bedroom, coming out a few minutes later already out of his suit and into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that perfectly shaped him. He handed you a pair of short sweats and tank top that were a part of the few clothes you kept at his place.

After you slipped on what he gave you he gently grabbed your hand as he led you to his bedroom. He got on his side of the bed before you suddenly were grabbed by the waist and laid in between his legs, your back pressing against his chest. Now that you were both settled you finally broke the silence.

“So, what was that all about? Constantly asking Lyla to come fetch me and then carrying me here like a sack of potatoes.”

Miguel knew you were annoyed with him, but this was the first time in a week since he got to see you.

He kept quiet as he left butterfly kisses along your neck. Of course, if you weren’t annoyed at him you would melt into his touch. But he wasn’t going to get away with his actions.

“Miguel.” You groaned as you sat up and turned yourself to face him. “Please answer me.”

“Te extrañé, mi amor. It's been a week since you laid in bed with me. You spent all your time training Gwen.”

Your annoyance with him faded and was replaced with guilt. He had missed you being by his side.

Your breath hitched at the way he sat there in front of you with starved eyes, wanting only one thing. You. You moved back over to him and sat in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you gave him a loving kiss on the cheek. You chuckled.

“¿Por qué te ríes?” Miguel frowned slightly, eyebrows furrowed. You placed your hand on his cheek which he took and placed gentle kisses on your wrist.

“I think it’s cute that you’re jealous.” You lightly giggle. Your comment made his loving affection briefly stop as he sent you a playful glare.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Baby, you don’t need to lie to me. You totally were.”

Your giggles soon stopped as Miguel flipped you on the bed, now on top of you. You stare wide-eyed up at him as your cheeks were dusted pink.

A grin makes its way to his plush lips. He slowly begins kissing you up from your collarbone to your cheek as he removes your shorts. Now lips right against your ear, he whispers, “You won’t think twice about ignoring me after I’m done pounding myself deep into your pussy until morning.”

————————————————————————

Translations: “Te extrañé, mi amor.” = “ I missed you, my love.”

“¿Por qué te ríes?” = “ Why are you laughing?”

My Spanish is not the best so I needed a bit of google translate to help.

But I hope you enjoyed this light fluff one-shot. There will be plenty more to come!

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #oneshot #light fluff #oneshot requests #gwen stacy #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #jessica drew #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spider man: across the spider verse

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frostbitebakery · 1 month

Text

Loud.

part one two three four five

“Why are you buttering me up, Master?” Obi-Wan signs, taking another careful sip of the cookie shake.

Master Tholme unfolds his hands on the table, cane resting against his leg. “Because I understand that you might not want to participate in this mission,” he signs back. It must be one of those days where he doesn’t want to talk. Obi-Wan understands and lets the silence engulf them. “But the Council and I feel that this is where you need to be.”

“Master,” Obi-Wan signs and bows.

“Hello, Obi-Wan.”

It’s not the first time he’s seen Qui-Gon again after Melidaan’s parting gift almost killed him. Of course they’ve seen each other. Qui-Gon had been there for him while he recovered, had hovered over Master Tholme’s shoulder like a shadow.

“A particularly annoying shadow,” Master Tholme had commented drily back then. “Which is funny, considering.“

Obi-Wan opens his arms and Qui-Gon’s tall frame closes around him. Maybe a queezing too tight but… but that doesn’t matter. “How are you,” he taps on a broad shoulder.

He’s abruptly let go. Not pushed back, thankfully.

“I am well, thank you.” Qui-Gon falls silent.

Obi-Wan has forced himself to stop trying to make the awkwardness between them less uncomfortable by the time he turned sixteen and Master Tholme sat him down to explain why he should let Qui-Gon come to grips with everything that has happened between them on his own until Qui-Gon reaches out to him.

“How are you?” And the caring and heartbreak lingering in Qui-Gon’s eyes is too much.

“I feel prepared to accompany you on this mission.”

It had been Qui-Gon who had taught him sign language in different iterations useful across the galaxy, before and later. Tholme has taught him tap code, after.

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Qui-Gon says, eyes on his long padawan braid.

Meeting Anakin feels… weird in the Force.

“So you don’t talk? Ever?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes.

“You don’t want to or you can’t?” the boy asks before his eyes widen. “Both are fine!”

“Cannot,” he signs carefully, settling on an Outer Rim dialect.

“Oh, ok!”

It’s the beginning of a never ending nightmare. Tatooine. Naboo. The desperate attempts to stop a war from happening.

He keeps to the background, inconspicuous and invisible.

Which is the only reason he ends up in the plasma refinery complex.

“It’ll be alright, little one,” Qui-Gon murmurs, gentle fingers wiping tears away before they reach the mask. “Just squeeze my hand.”

“Master,” he taps, hiccups threatening to disrupt something in his throat.

“Take care of the boy.”

So he does.

He brings Anakin back to the Temple, watches over his nightmares in silence.

He kneels as Master Tholme cuts his braid.

He explains to the Council what he thinks.

Anakin is bright. Smart and a beacon in the Force. He’s older than usual, granted. But his connection to the Force is palpably vast and potentially dangerous if he isn’t trained to handle that connection. He’s safer in the Temple where they can watch over him and teach him.

The Council agrees.

He introduces Anakin to Depa.

Her dry wit has the boy relaxing. Her no-nonsense attitude is a guiding light, a steady framework he can lean on and count on.

Depa delights in showing him the Temple, the opportunities to learn and try out new experiences.

Shadow work piles up and suddenly Obi-Wan is running around the galaxy trying to put out fires.

When he’s slumped in the back door of an abandoned factory in the shady part of an Outer Rim planet, struggling to breathe and feeling like he’s dying, lightsaber in a death grip, he makes the decision to return to the Temple. The mask has to change or he will die because he is out of breath. Unacceptable.

The technicians look at him chagrined and apologetic, explain that this is all they can do at the moment, maybe he can take it a bit easier?

“No, you need to adjust the valves on—“ a small voice peeps up from behind his shoulder.

Obi-Wan has been aware Anakin is clinging to his back like a monkey bear. He’s ignored the looks he’s gotten on the way to the tech complex.

“Have at it, then,” he signs.

Anakin looks at him like he’s personally chosen every star in the galaxy as he hands over the mask.

“An order.”

“A strong suggestion,” Mace corrects.

“Call it what it is,” Obi-Wan signs, cutting through the air with his hands he’s so furious. “Chancellor Palpatine has no business wanting to spend time with Anakin.”

Mace sighs, leans back in the chair. “I’m aware, Obi-Wan.” He taps his fingers against the armrest but he’s releasing energy, focusing his thoughts, not code. “How are you feeling?”

The renewed esophagus has him out of the mission count for a bit yet, he’s slowly weaned off the artificial nutrition. Overall, he’s starting to feel a bit restless.

“Perhaps you want to enjoy Coruscant’s scenery while you’re here?” Mace asks, a twinkle in his eye. “Though I beg you to not get into trouble,” he adds with a frown. “Too much trouble, I mean. I forgot for a second who I was talking to.”

Spying on the Chancellor is not on Bant’s list of approved activities but what she doesn’t know…

Obi-Wan touches his chin and brings his hand forward.

“So you can either sign in the dark or write tap code with these gloves. You can adjust the brightness and still sneak around.”

“Thank you, Ani.” It’s one of the best gifts he’s ever had the honor of receiving. It solves a lot of problems on missions. He hugs the boy close and feels swept up in the thoughtfulness. “I don’t sneak.”

“You totally do and it’s so wizard!”

“You were supposed to be my Master!”

#my wips #loud au #mute!obi wan #jedi shadow!obi wan #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker

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thekissofaphrodite · 29 days

Note

Could you please do Clarisse La Rue X female reader, where the reader is a daughter of Hephaestus and they offer to try and fix, and possibly improve, her broken spear?

THIS IS SO FUN TO MAKE!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING <33

Smudge

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Hephaestus!reader

Summary: Fixing a damaged spear and a molten heart.

Warnings: Lovesick Clarisse (+kissing) Language 🫢

Author's Note: I wrote this while there's a literal program going on in my school, I'm shameless 😶

——

There was an eerie and an uncomfortable silence in the Ares Cabin. Apparently, Capture the flag this day didn't go well. Hence, Clarisse La Rue terrorized her siblings, snapping at them and most probably WILL strangling them to death. But one of her siblings finally opened their mouth and said something worth hearing; "I heard The Hephaestus Cabin can take damages like that, You'll have to pay five extra drachmas though"

Despite the disagreement and feud between those two cabins because of their fathers, Clarisse never got her wallet out so fast and ran towards Cabin 9, clutching the remains of her broken spear in hand.

The Workshop-like cabin was in the distance, There was a small queue of campers, waiting for their armours and weapons that they commissioned and repaired.

Clarisse, Being the arrogant, Daughter of the high tempered war God, pushed those campers away, earning groans and nasty side-eyes.

The first person clarisse saw was you, Forging a bronze shield with a hot iron. Your hair held by a huge claw clip in a bun, A brown leather apron was tied on your waist and neck, There was a bead of sweat that rolled down your from forehead to your cheeks, using the back of your hands, you wiped your cheeks, a smudge of charcoal appeared on your cheeks, But you kept going, Unaware.

Clarisse stood there awkwardly, waiting for you to look up and notice her, but you seemed pre-occupied, Just as she was about to clear her throat, Your halfbrother crossed his arms in the table next to you, glaring at Clarisse.

"Oi, La Rue! Gonna stand there like a damn statue? My sister ain't got all day" Your brother addressing Clarisse with his heavy southern accent caught your attention, You looked up at her before dismissing your brother away.

"I got it, Devon. Besides, I'm almost done here, I can take her in"

Your brother's eyebrows furrowed.

"Look, Sis, you've been forging all day since 6 AM, Your wrists are gonna fall off any second"

You laughed.

"I'm pretty sure dad's not gonna let that happen, And...I think I can see Mila peeking over there"

The mention of your brother's girlfriend made him blush madly, Near the entrance, a pale girl with freckles and light brown hair wearing a jumper over her orange camp halfblood shirt was waving at your brother excitedly while holding a small punett basket full of strawberries.

He then rubbed the back of his neck before excusing himself, bringing his girlfriend into his arms.

It was now only you and clarisse inside the workshop , there was a moment of silence before clarisse broke it by placing her damaged spear on your table that made a loud clattering noise.

"Are you able to fix this?" Her voice cracked a little, you felt pity as you examined her spear. Clarisse looked up at you, there was a glint of hope in her eyes.

"It looks repairable, But the electricity.. I'm not sure, It's not going to be that electric, How did this happen anyway?"

Clarissed frowned.

"Jackson"

You stared at her in disbelief.

"That twelve yearold boy did this?"

"Yes— Why does that matter? He's a brat, if I could just snap his neck into two—"

"Hey," you whispered.

"He's just a kid, Let him be. I'm sure I'll get this done in no time." Comfort and reassurance lacing your voice, as you held her hand gently.

You could've sworn you saw Clarisse La Rue blush at the contact.

"So...Are you free?" Clarisse said all of a sudden, It was probably the most cheesiest way of saying 'Will you go out with me' But you won't complain, It's Clarisse.

There was a hint of playfulness in your voice as you responded "Are you asking me out?" Arms folded on your chest as you stared at her in amusement. The Ares girl blushed once more and rubbed the back of her neck, It was almost an unbelievable sight that THE Clarisse La Rue was blushing and acting flustered in front of someone, she mostly acts brute and mean, like totally mean to the point that if she was spotted in a crowd, people would part way.

"Isn't it obvious?"

You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"I'd love to"

Clarisse La Rue was screaming on the inside, but still, she kept a neutral expression, her eyes darting for her spear to yours.

"Great! I- uh... I'll come back tomorrow"

"For me or the spear?"

"Both"

——

The Ares cabin was peace and quiet in the morning, with Clarisse's siblings snoring away, the sun rising from the horizon signalling Apollo's coming, and birds singing softly.

Clarisse never thought she'd be like this, up early in the morning just to get a glimpse of a girl. Her whole life, she devoted herself to making her father proud, training every single day until her limbs went numb, fingers calloused and body sore, yearning for a single praise from her father. But it did. It worked, He gifted her a spear, an electric spear that she deeply treasured, the same spear that broken by that pathetic newbie.

You were her only hope.

So she sneaked out quietly, Carefully trying not to wake her sleep deprived siblings.

each footstep she took towards your cabin made her extremely nervous, but she kept her composure and held her head high like a true daughter of Ares.

Once she reached the entrance, her hands found the door knob and carefully twisted it, Letting it open, She saw you again, But this time you were sleeping peacefully on your work table, dust covered your face while her spear was placed in front of you, good as new with a red ribbon tied to the handle.

You must've pulled up a whole nighter.

She was caught off guard when you slowly started to steer from your sleep, moving uncomfortably.

Clarisse didn't know what to do, so she watched you carefully while you tried to process the world, still dowsy. You saw Clarisse and almost screamed.

"HOLY SHIT— CLARISSE?!" You yell a little too loud because you heard a loud yet distant 'SHUT UP!' coming from your siblings' room.

She just stood there, grinning shyly.

"I'm too early, am I?"

Your eyes found the clock up in the wall that read; 4:36.

"Way too early..."

You looked at Clarisse, then the spear on your table, Sighing.

"..and this was meant to be a surprise"

Clarisse chuckled.

"The spear is the least of my problems, I came here to see you"

Silence

"Me?"

"Yes, you...Do you wanna watch the sunrise?" Clarisse asked, carefully watching your expression, her cheeks flushed with red.

Sunrise?

You love sunrises..

"You didn't have to say it twice." Quickly grabbing your scarf, you held Clarisse's hand towards the fields.

The walk was long and quiet, with only you and Clarisse's breathing, and your boots crunching on the moist grass beneath it.

Once you two reached the small hill, you sat down and leaned back, Clarisse did the same. The sun was slowly rising, signalling Apollo and Aurora's arrival.

"Sorry for the unannounced intrusion earlier, I—"

"You couldn't wait to see me?" You chuckled softly.

Clarisse blushed again.

"Yes, That.." She couldn't admit that it was a little embarrassing admitting that she missed you.

But she missed more than you.

She missed your smile, She missed the way your vanilla perfume mixed with the copper and iron inside you and your siblings' forge, creating an irresistibly intoxicating smell. She missed the way your brows knit together while you focus intensely on hammering out a sword into shape, she missed the way your baby hairs stick on your sweaty forehead, she missed the way your apron wrapped perfectly around your body, bringing out your figure.

She missed everything about you.

You two were engulfed in a comfortable silence, with birds chirping and the trees swaying softly. she turned to you, but before she could speak, she noticed the smudge of charcoal on your cheeks from yesterday, it was a little faded, but still pretty visible.

so acting in her instinct, she moved closer to you and brought her hands on your cheeks, you were a bit startled, watching her wipe your cheeks softly as if tho you were the most delicate porcelain doll.

"Clarisse— What are you—" when she pulled her hand away, you saw a dark smear on her fingers, realization suddenly hit you, you embarrassingly looked away and tried to wipe the mess itself, but Clarisse's hands pushed yours away.

Her palm was now cupping your cheeks, and your gaze fix upon her.

Your heartbeat started beating faster, so did hers.

Clarisse didn't know what made her feel this way towards you, maybe Eros was spying on her and shot her an arrow, maybe Aphrodite was playing games because this was an alluring feeling that she had never felt before towards any person, Yeah, maybe she had a relationship with Silena Beauregard, but it was out of loneliness, Silena needed someone before she even met Beckendorf, and Clarisse needed someone before she met you.

You were the one that brought light to her day, the one that encouraged her to wake up every morning every time she felt little to no enthusiasm.

and now here you are, inches away from her lips while the sun rises.

It wasn't long before her lips touched yours, a burning and a twisting feeling inside your stomach along with butterflies erupted in you. She pulled you closer by wrapping her muscular arm around you waist. Her lips moved in sync against yours, your calloused fingers found her hair as you ran your fingers through it.

And it was pretty much the best sunrise kiss ever.

A/N

HELLO! I'm back with my first request from my inbox! I do hope you guys like this, i know it's been a month since i disappeared but fear no more— I will empty my inbox first before re-opening my requests! SO...STAY TUNED! ANY REQUEST I MIGHT POST MIGHT BE YOURS!

#percy jackon and the olympians #thekissofaphrodite #clarisse la rue x reader #dior goodjohn #xy/n #percy jackson #lovers #wlw

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emmaiooo · 7 months

Text

you're weak.

958 words

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

6:43 PM.

“we’re still on tonight right?”

“sorry. can’t.”

“why???”

“hello…?”

you huffed at the message, why is he not responding? it's not like he has some teen boy shit to do. opening your phone once again, you dialed geto. “yo it’s geto, leave a message after the beep.” you sighed, “you guys didn’t abandon me right..?” you whispered after the beep, then hung up and laid on your bed.

NEXT DAY - 7:56 AM.

“morning guys!” you smiled happily at the duo, bringing your hand up to give gojo a high-five, like you always do. “oh uh, not right now y/n, we have class.” gojo shuffled away from your presence. you froze. “o-okay.” you gave him a weak smile, and turned around to walk to your class. as you walked away, you saw from the corner of your eye that geto was whispering something to gojo. damn, where is shoko?

4:12 PM

“here.” shoko handed you a drink as you were sitting on the stairs of jujutsu high. you looked up, shoko had a cig in her mouth as you grabbed the sparkling soda from her hand. “thanks.” you mumbled. you both sat there in silence, waiting for someone to say something. “seems like they’re ignoring you.” shoko said, finally breaking the silence. “where were you shoko?” you asked, opening the soda can. “had a bunch of tests for medical school, passed with flying marks.” shoko smiled as she made a peace sign next to her face. “hah, really? you definitely cheated.” you giggled, letting out a breathy laugh. “i’m…going to go to medical school now, so i’ll be absent more.” shoko said, taking a breath from her cig. “oh…okay.” you said quietly, looking down. shit. now what are you going to do? you wished you were in a normal highschool, with a normal amount of kids, so there's not only just four people in your grade. you don’t even have anyone to hang out with now, no one to talk to. even the first years shunned you. haibara said he had bad feelings from you, and nanami is just not talkative and listens to haibara. utahime didn’t like you either, and mei mei is only interested in getting money, which you had none of. stupid fucking curse. your cursed technique always scared people, you had sharp fangs and always had a pale look on you. you looked like you were cosplaying as a vampire to normal human beings. everyone hated you because you were scary to look at.

FEW MONTHS LATER - 11:30 AM - THREE SECOND YEAR STUDENTS SENT TO TAKE CARE OF A SPECIAL GRADE CURSE; ONE SEVERELY INJURED.

“you’re so fucking stupid! can’t even do one thing right when we asked you to! this doesn’t make sense at all, you are a special grade sorcerer!” gojo yelled at you, you have never seen him this mad before. “sa-” you said, before getting cut off by gojo. “don’t call me satoru. it’s gojo to you.” he spat out, looking at you without his glasses, which had long been gone since the fight with the curse. “g-gojo, we still managed to kill the curse, and shoko can use rct on geto!” you tried reasoning with satoru. indeed, it was your fault that you made a small mistake on the mission, but gojo couldn’t be blaming the whole thing on you right? geto can survive this, the doctor’s said it too. you don’t get why gojo is so upset about this whole ordeal. gojo groaned loudly, “y/n this is why you can’t do shit. i’m going to talk to yaga about not having any missions with you anymore, you can go on missions by yourself. you’re a special grade anyway.” gojo rolled his eyes as he started to walk back into geto’s room. you sat there, letting all the words sink in. just one more year, one more year with them and you can finally leave.

2 MONTHS LATER - 9:23 PM

“y/n! are you okay? where does it hurt?” shoko ran to you, “you’re so stupid, why did you go alone on this mission?” shoko was panicking, already trying to heal you after you called her when you were on the brink of death. “uhm…i…” your eyes were blurry, looking around and spotted two males. you could see the anger in gojo’s eyes and the horror in geto’s face. “did you exorcise the curse?” geto asked calmly. shit..you forgot geto needed the curse to eat. “no..” you looked away from him. “oh my god y/n!” gojo groaned and put his hand on his head. “the best thing you could’ve done for us was to trap the curse and wait for us to get here! but now we lost a special grade for geto to absorb.” gojo was clearly irritated. “b-but the curse could’ve killed me! how could you say that?” you cried, thinking about how unreasonable gojo could be. “you’re a special grade and still can’t seem to carry out a simple task, you’re weak.” gojo said with venom, making your heart hurt. “she did her best gojo.” shoko tried to reason with him, still healing your wounds, “and that was good enough.”

the next day, your wounds were all healed, and your mind was clear.

“y/n, you sure about moving to kyoto?” - geto

“yea.”

“alright, we’ll miss you.”

like hell they would, you thought to yourself. they wouldn’t understand no matter how much you explained to them your feelings. especially gojo, he was born as the strongest, the whole world power balanced after he was born. you could never compare to someone like him.

get stronger.

the words rang through your head.

get stronger.

and you will.

(honestly this did not turn out the way i wanted it, might get a rework.)

#angst #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #shoko x reader #shoko ieiri x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader angst #geto x reader angst #shoko x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #fanfic #sad #writing is hard #weak

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ghostofhyuck · 4 days

Text

Gang AU Series 7

Mafia Boss! Park Jisung x Wife! Reader

Summary: “Do you even know who you married?”

cw: mentions of violence, death, murder, and blood. Jisung is a bit insane here but that’s what makes him hot though.

AN: I can’t take this seriously because I’m using Andy instead of Jisung IJBOL.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You were shaking. Hands cold yet tightly gripping on the gun. You stood there in darkness, silence devouring you and your husband.

“What? Come on, shoot me,” his deep voice echoed through the void. From the dim light of the kitchen, you can see his sinister smile, teasing, with a smirk on his lips. Nevermind that he’s covered with the blood of whoever he slaughtered, all you knew was that the person standing in front of you is not the person you married.

“I’m waiting, you know that?” Jisung smiled, even leaning forward, resting his forehead at the tip of the gun. He stares at you cold, and you swore that he became a monster.

In a minute of silence, no one moved. You couldn’t help but to lightly push the gun forward to him, and yet he remained unfazed. He’s only staring at your soul, waiting for your next move.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and in a split second, you dropped onto your knees. Your hands still holding the gun, as you tried to catch your breath. You can’t. You just can’t imagine ending the life of your lover. You couldn’t. Not when your love for him is too strong despite the betrayal that he just did.

Jisung kneels in front of you, his hands grabbing your wrist and snatching the gun away from you. You watched him observe the gun, smiling, “You don’t even know how to load a gun.” he said, placing it at the top of the kitchen counter.

He glances at you, slightly caressing your cheeks and you couldn’t help but flinch at his touch. “I knew you couldn’t do it,” he whispered to you and you don’t know if he was disappointed by your actions or he was relieved

“I’m sorry Andy…I’m really sorry,” you cried. Tears started to flow only for him to swipe it gently.

“It’s okay love, I understand why,” he assured, but in a split second, you saw how his expression darkened. “Now tell me what happened here while I was gone.”

You could only stare, trying to recall earlier events.

You didn’t expect that police officers would show up at the footsteps of your door on a random Tuesday afternoon.

“Is Park Jisung home?” the female police officer asked immediately, you raised an eyebrow.

“I think you got the wrong address,” you answered.

“You’re yn ln right?” she asked, and you only nod. “Well then, I guess your husband hid his identity from you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Can we come in for a minute?”

Onto the next few hours, you didn’t expect to be interrogated by them. They asked you about your husband, where did you meet him and do you even know what he does in his job. They kept on pushing you for answers but you were clueless about the accusations.

You told them your truth. You met Jisung at a club in Seoul, he introduced himself as “Andy Park” and said he just got home from studying abroad. You two immediately hit off. Went several dates and became exclusive after a few months. A year into being together and you agreed to marry him. You felt like there’s no need to take things longer since you can see your future with Jisung. He was serious and was loyal to you. You two never fought and had a healthy relationship.

You two have been married for almost five years now. You two promised to focus on each other’s careers, that’s why both of you are childless. You know that Jisung works as a businessman, specifically on human resources, while you’re a freelance digital artist.

You never suspected Jisung to be working for an underground gang. You were clueless. You told them that numerous times but they were sceptical. You explained that he does arrive home late but you thought that just him being workaholic. You convinced them that you’re innocent, not even knowing that your husband’s real name is ‘Park Jisung.’

“Do you know Prosecutor Seo?” the officer asked. You shake your head.

She gave you a picture of a man in his fifties along with your husband. They seemed to be having a serious conversation. The picture was angled as if someone was watching them from afar.

“I told you many times, I never meddled with my husband’s career. I don’t know him and his affiliations with Andy,” you told them with a serious tone.

The officers both glanced at each other. The lady lets out a sigh, grabbing another photo of a crime scene.

“A few weeks earlier, Mr. Kim, a mayoral candidate, was found dead in his hotel room. We suspected that it was a hitman who did it, since there’s no signs of forced entry,” she explained. You only become quiet as she explains it to you slowly.

“During investigation, we found out that Prosecutor Seo was behind the murder, but in order to not get his hands dirty, he hired Park Jisung to assassinate Mr. Kim.”

Hearing those words felt as if something heavy crashed onto you. Suddenly everything became blurry to you and you were frozen. You couldn’t believe it. How is it that that shy and sweet husband of yours is behind a murder case. You tried to grab the glass of water but due to your shaky hands, you dropped it, startling the two.

“I’m sorry…it m-might’ve slipped,” you stuttered. You tried to stand up to get a tissue but the male officer stood up first.

“This must be a lot to take,” the female officer said with a weary tone. “I’m sorry you have to discover this way.”

“Are you going to arrest him?” you asked instead.

“No,” the officer sternly said. “We were ordered to take Park Jisung out.”

“N-no! You mean —”

“An order from the higher up,” she explained. “I’m sorry but your husband was too stupid for killing an influential man.”

You only became quiet. You don’t know what to do. You feel defeated, betrayed, and worried by the fate of your husband. You felt overwhelmed by the revelations told to you. You didn’t even notice that tears are starting to stream down your eyes. You couldn’t help but to bite onto your fingernails, a thing that you do when you’re anxious —

“But don’t worry, we can help you. We know how hard it is to understand things, but I hope you understand that your husband is a criminal,” she said to you with a serious tone.

“How?” you asked, defeated.

She only became quiet, placing a gun in front of you.

“So that’s why you have a gun,” Jisung nonchalantly said. Grabbing the gun once again. “Got to give them kudos for giving you an illegal gun too.”

“Andy…” you muttered.

“No more ‘love’? I understand,” he chuckles. Jisung turns around and looks at you, who's sitting at the chair.

Jisung couldn’t help but feel guilty for hiding his identity to you. But it was for the best. He was afraid of scaring you off, that you might think of him as a dangerous man. But Jisung knows that his works aren’t ethical either. He also knew how much you would worry about his work and career if you knew. The underground scene is dangerous and illegal, but Jisung finds solace in that place. It’s no different to their government and leaders. At some point, all of them went running through gang members and bosses for illegal activities.

And to think that the police officer forced you to kill him was hypocritical. They weren’t any different from him.

“Look, I’m sorry for hiding this from you,” he said sincerely. “I just don’t want you to be involved with my career, it’s risky and I don’t want to put you in any danger.”

Part of him was afraid that you turned your back on him. He’s afraid of you leaving him after revealing his true identity. He knows how ruthless and cold he can be, and it’s that side of him that he promises to not show to you.

“And what!? You’ll continue hiding it from me until you die!?” you shouted, but you were only welcomed by Jisung’s hands on your shoulders.

“No! It’s just — I fucked up. No, my men fucked up,” Jisung tried to explained. “Goddamn, if only they were more careful with their actions, then this wouldn’t happen.”

“What did you do?” you asked slowly, eyes darting at the bloodstained shirt of his.

“Just a small punishment for being stupid, it’s not your concern,” Jisung smiles. “I went home like this on purpose because I know what’s going to happen.”

You only became quiet. Jisung glances at the cupboard, and points at it. “I have eyes everywhere love, I got to be sure you’re safe.”

“So you knew?”

“Always one step ahead from them,” he smirks. “Now love, I’m going to be honest with you.”

Jisung gently removes his hands from your shoulders and places them on your hands. Something that he does to make you feel safe. “I know that you’re overwhelmed with everything, and you are having a hard time trusting me too. I’m sorry, and as much as I want to explain everything to you, we are running out of time.”

You only stared at him for a minute. That assured Jisung that you’re listening. “Any minute now, they might return to our place and take it upon themselves if you fail to kill me. Now, they might also do the same with you.”

“They told me they will not touch me,” you explained.

“We can’t be sure about that,” Jisung rebutted. “Now, are you with me? Chenle’s waiting for us at the port. A boat going to Hong Kong is waiting for us. We can start new, hide ourselves from the world, and maybe…” he kisses your forehead fondly. “Have kids now. You don’t have to worry about anything, just trust me in this one please yn.”

You looked at Jisung, and finally, saw the man that you married. The man that you exchanged vows with and promised you to put your safety against any things.

You thought that you were a fool for marrying him early due to the revelations earlier, but you know that your heart is telling you something else. As you caressed Jisung’s cheeks, you couldn’t help but to smile bitterly as you nod. You saw how Jisung’s eyes lightened up and how his hands squeezed your cheeks.

“I know that you wouldn’t put me in danger, love,” you whispered to him.

“Of course I won’t. God, I love you so much,” he confesses. Pulling you for another kiss once again. You couldn’t help but to kiss him back. Eager and longing, as if you two haven’t seen each other for a decade.

“Pack light okay? Just important things that you need, we need to leave before midnight,” Jisung told you as you two broke the kiss.

You only nod, watching him grab your hands once again, gently squeezing it. That’s when you noticed the sudden change of his expression.

“Where’s your ring?” he asked.

“Oh! I placed it on my jewelry box —”

“Good,” he said in a serious tone. “From now on, don’t you ever remove it from you.”

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct dream imagine #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct jisung #nct jisung fic #nct dream jisung fic #nct jisung imagines #park jisung #jisung #park jisung fic #park jisung x reader

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sunflowersteves · 2 years

Note

both eddie and steve fucking you

author's note || im so sorry this took me so long to do, but i hope you enjoy it!

pairing || eddie munson x steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings || angst, fluff, mean!eddie, soft!steve, edging, fingering, dom x sub, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, punishment (light bdsm), mention of drinking, polyamorous relationship

The car seemed almost still. The only sound that punctured the air was the worn tires against the road. You looked out the window and watched the trees pass; light from the lampposts occasionally illuminated your face.

You were trying to find anything that could distract you from the burrowing shame that rushed through your chest. Although, you still found the silence too unbearable.

“Steve?”

As soon as his name leaves your mouth, Steve’s grip on the steering wheel seems insufferably tighter. He didn’t respond, leaving the two of you in the ether of silence. The absence of his voice sends chills down your spine.

Shit, yeah, you were in major trouble.

You could almost cut the tension in the air with a dull blade, and you try to sink further into the plush leather seats. Steve’s eyes fixed on the dark road in front of him, a firm and hard look caressed his face.

Your stomach twisted with guilt and sorrow—tears almost pricking your eyes.

You knew exactly why he was angry with you, and you have no doubt that Eddie is, too, back at home. You could picture the metalhead’s furrowed eyebrows and clenched fists as he circled the living room.

You had gone out with your friends, and what was supposed to be a meaningless hangout turned into going to three different bars and a club. That was all fun and games until your location was completely unknown to the entire town of Hawkins, Indiana. When Steve called to pick you up, and no one had answered, a hollow pit sunk in his stomach.

He and Eddie had thought of the worst, especially since it’s only been five months since the events of the Upside Down. What if Vecna somehow came back? What if it was something else from the Upside Down? What if you were kidnapped? What if you were hurt?

Much more gruesome scenarios ran through both of their heads as the clock continued to tick off each passing minute of your absence. They knew you were probably fine, but the swarthy depths of the unknown sunk within their darkest fears of something happening to you.

There was one rule that you, Eddie, and Steve made sure that you all had to follow, that you agreed to follow. Tell everyone where you are. Just in case another Vecna or turn of events appears, then someone can get to you—someone can be there.

Eddie's experience of being alone during Chrissy’s death had twisted inside him and left a broken shell of himself. When you, him, and Steve finally got together, the light at the end of the tunnel was finally visible. If anything had happened to you or Steve, Eddie would never forgive himself.

Eddie had finally got a hold of one of your friends, graciously telling them where you were, and man, they were pissed. You hadn’t heard Eddie or Steve that mad before, ever. You heard Eddie yelling profanities in the background while Steve growled that you needed to stay where you were, and it made you stutter into the wall phone at the wine bar.

You waited—frightened—for what was to come and how your boys would react. When Steve arrived, he never said a word. Your head hung low as you opened the car door—his nostrils flared at your friend giggling. If you weren’t leaving, you might have thought Steve was going to rip them a new one.

The car pulled up to Eddie’s driveway, Steve shifting the gear to park. He starts to aggressively open the door—a rush of frustrations clouding his mind. If you could follow the one simple fucking rule of letting your boyfriends know where you were at all times, things could be just peachy.

“Steve—” He shook his head, already opening your own door for you. As pissed as he is, he still loves you. In fact, that’s why he’s filled with such ire, to begin with.

You trail into the house behind Steve like a lost puppy who was kicked to the curb. As you walk into the living room, Eddie is standing there with a menacing stature. His face looks red, chest heaving, and shoulder muscles tense.

“I cannot believe you.” He spits—eyes engrossed in flames. Steve has a hand on his hip, but his eyes are glued to the floor. “You can’t do that to us, do you understand?”

Your head hung low for the second time tonight, nodding immediately. Your heart ached for the two boys in front of you as guilt swirled through your chest.

For hours on end, Steve and Eddie were utterly disquiet as they called around Hawkins, and no one seemed to know where you were.

Steve scoffed, “No, she doesn’t. You-you can’t just scare us like that. What if Vecna or-or another monster from the upside down had-had—” He bit his tongue before he could say killed you because he couldn’t. He couldn’t utter those two words. “Look at me.”

You stayed still and squeezed your eyes shut. You hear footsteps coming closer, amber wood, and a hint of vanilla wafted into your nose. He’s forcing you to look at him with his hand on your jaw. “Look at me, baby.”

Your eyes lock with his, and it crushes every piece inside of you. You almost couldn’t hear him from your heart pounding in your ears. “You scared the shit out of us, you know that?” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “I know you wanna have your fun, baby, but you need to let us know where you’re going. We–We need to know you’re safe.”

He’s looking at you so intensely that your lip starts to tremble. “I-I’m sorry, Stevie. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie frowns and stalks over to the two of you. “Sorry?” He can’t help but laugh, “Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it—”

“Eddie—” Steve tries and grabs his shoulder, but Eddie brushes it off. “No, Steve. She left us to think of the absolute worst for hours. You can’t just say you’re sorry and think it’s all okay.” He huffs.

Steve’s slightly concerned at Eddie’s outburst but quickly becomes intrigued as Eddie goes to shove you against the couch. Your mouth is slightly agape and shocked at your boyfriend’s actions. Eddie grits his teeth, “if you can’t follow some simple fucking rules, then I’m going to remind you.”

Eddie rips open your skirt, a desperate plea escaping your lips. He aggressively pulls your pink lace down your legs. Steve gasps at Eddie’s force before stalking over to the couch and taking a look at the guilt and arousal that’s written all over your face. “Oh, Eddie, She likes it.” And you did. You really did. Your body did too.

“F-Fuck, pretty girl, you’re wet? Huh?” He mocks, dipping a thick finger into your folds. You gasp, “Eddie!” You roll your head back as your hands grip the fluffy couch.

“C’mere, Steve. I need you to hold her.” Steve complies and pries open your legs, holding them in place as Eddie continues his attack. His cock felt strained in his jeans at the sight. Steve’s eyes were dark hues—watching Eddie’s fingers scissor your open. “Look at this desperate little pussy, Steve. Look at her clenchin’ around my fingers.”

You moan at the feeling of his fingers curling—reaching further through your wet spongy walls. “You’re so pretty, baby.” Steve presses kisses on your shoulder, continuing to whisper more praises into your ear. You weren’t listening, though, not when Eddie goes to slap your clit.

He gruffs, “You, pretty girl, need to fucking learn—”

You hiccup, head leaned back further against the cushions. “Eddie, please—”

“You little slut, look at you. Our baby likes to be fucked like this, huh? You like when Steve and I are mad?” You try to respond, but Steve takes your nipple into his mouth and makes your begging fall off your lips.

His tongue swirls against the bud and groans at the soft feeling of your skin. He lets go, a harsh popping noise leaving your lips. “F-Fuck, baby—”

Your brain is absolute mush, and the only thing you could even think of was Steve and Eddie. They were both talking to you—degrading you, but you could barely even hear them.

Eddie becomes almost harsher, curling his fingers as he adds a third. You whimper at the sensation, it’s almost painful, but that feeling of pleasure seems like it’s about to burst as you clench. “You gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You nod at Eddie, desperate to chase out your high. He’s fucking into you fast—his fingers relentless with each stroke. You feel Steve move to lick your wet slick near your thigh, your body shuttering at the sensation.

“Well, that’s too fucking bad.” Just as you feel the coil snap, Eddie releases his fingers. You whine, hips bucking into the air, and Steve almost couldn’t hold you down. You were desperate—so desperate—that it looked pitiful from you grinding into the air. “Fuckin’ look at you, pretty girl. Such a desperate little slut, aren’t you? But you can’t seem to follow a simple rule.”

Eddie makes Steve flip you over so your ass is hanging up into the air, face planted into the couch. You squirm as you watch, Eddie’s enraged eyes looking at your leaking pussy. “Only good girls get to fucking cum.”

He unbuckles his belt, making you loudly whine as his thick throbbing cock releases from his boxers. “Fuck her, Steve. Need to watch you fuck our girl.” Without warning, Steve’s cock rams into you, prompting a scream to leave your lips. “S-Steve!”

You hear him moan behind you, your arms limp and body at their full control. Steve’s cock is big—ramming into walls over and over. “S-Shit, sweet girl, you feel so fucking tight.”

“Yeah, Stevie? She feels good against your cock?” Eddie was closer now, watching Steve’s cock disappear in your dripping pussy. He whimpered as his own fingers swiped over the head of his cock. “Y-Yeah, Eddie—She—She huggin’ my cock and–and–”

Steve moans as thick ropes of his sticky cum fill your hole, and it makes you mewl. You’re close—so close as your walls clench around Steve. Eddie fakes a pout as he makes you look at him. “Awe, baby, are you gonna cum? Huh? You think you deserve it this time?”

Steve’s still riding his high, relentlessly rutting into you with his endless cum filling you up. You nod at Eddie, practically pleading to the ends of the earth for some type of release. “You can’t.” You almost scream at your boyfriends. “I told you that good girls cum, yeah?”

“Eddie, I-I can’t—”

He laughs, and if Steve wasn’t still fucking you silly, you might have snapped back. “Hold it. Fucking hold it, or I’m not gonna let you get fucked for a month.” Your mouth shuts almost immediately because you knew Eddie wasn’t joking. The fierce look in his eyes as he’s fisting his cock in his hands tells you everything.

He’s really not joking.

“Good girl.” You hold it as long as you can, you really do. Your walls are at a constant clench as Steve’s sticky cock floods your senses. “Eddie, Please!” You try again, hoping for him to let you just this once, but he’s shaking his head.

His own release is creeping up on him, pre-cum covering his head in full. He growls, “S-Steve, my pretty girl, look at you two. You’re mine.” Steve finally pulls out of you, his cum leaking against your thighs. He’s panting and mumbling absolute nonsense from his sensitive cock being completely fucked out.

Eddie bursts out a moan, the pure sight before him has his cock leaking out in thick ropes. You’re whining against the couch as you watch his cum drip down his thighs—you wished that was inside of you. He’s whispering your and Steve’s name over and over again while Steve goes to lick the cum off of Eddie’s thighs.

It was sure a sight to see, and you squirmed. “Pretty girl, ‘M sorry, but you had to be punished.”

You whimpered at Eddie’s soft voice, his anger subsiding to a low ache. “I know, Eds.”

They then join you on the couch, you being the middle of the Eddie and Steve sandwich. Things seem to have become much calmer, hazy eyes looking at one another with such adoration it was going to make your heart explode.

Steve rubbed small circles onto your forearm, and Eddie’s pinky linked with yours. Eddie isn’t sure if he could handle not being around your presence right now, and it was something that made his heart hurt.

The calm moment turned sullen as you heard a sniffle. You whip your head over toward Eddie, “Eddie, baby—” He shakes his head at you, frizzy hair tickling his cheeks. He’s then intertwining your fingers into his. “You just—you just really scared us. You really scared me.”

You squeeze his hand, reaching over to your right and intertwining Steve’s hand into yours. “If-If anything happens to you or s-steve, I-I don’t know what I’d do.” A tear falls down Eddie’s cheek, and you untie your hands with him to wipe it away. You’re so gentle with him, and it makes his heart preen to be closer toward you.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. I really am. I didn’t know we were going out to different bars, and I know that’s no excuse.” You swipe your finger on his cheek. “I just–I'm so sorry. I love you both so much.”

Steve nods, “Next time, please tell us where you’re going, even if plans change.” Eddie hums in agreement as he presses his lips against yours. It’s a soft kiss. It's one that has your brain fuzz and your heart palpitating.

“Go give Stevie one.”

You turn, reaching over to grab Steve’s face in a gentle kiss. “I promise. I promise I’ll be better.”

For the first time tonight, your boyfriends smiled. “We love you too, sweet girl.” Steve presses a kiss to your shoulder, “We love you very much.”

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starandcloud · 21 days

Text

COD boys + Farah and Valeria

Summary: you call them after a fight with your parents/relatives and they pick you up and see you with injuries that weren't there when they dropped you off

I literally forgot like five people-

Characters used: Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, Sebastian Krueger, Nikto, Alex, Farah, Valeria, Konig, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Nikolai, Grinch, Sandman, Laswell, Graves, Makarov, Frost, Horangi, Keegan

CW: Bruises, slap marks, cigarette burns, implied sprained/broken limbs, just abuse of reader all over tbh ;-;, no Y/N is safe from me tbh, they all gotta be messed up in one way or another-

Simon "Ghost" Riley

He noticed the shake in your voice IMMEDIATELY when you called

He's observant y'all

He 100% was concerned off the bat, he's a good boyfriend but a better killer

He pulled up to you sitting on the tire on top of the driveway and went to call you on your phone only to notice you halfway down the driveway before he could dig his phone out of his pocket

He was also keenly aware of your hair being down, something you rarely did

His automatic instinct was to brush it out of your face, so he did

He noticed how you shrinked away

Then he noticed the ugly bruise forming around your eye and on the side of your face.

"Luv? What happened?"

His voice was angry, but not at you.

Never at you.

You gave a little shrug and tucked into yourself

"Can we just... leave..?"

He couldn't remember the last time you sounded this small, so he did what you asked.

He kept his hand on your leg, rubbing little circles on your skin as he drove, but not home you noticed.

He kept glancing at you from the side of his eye and smiled as he saw your eyes light up as he pulled into the parkway of your favorite food place.

He was still angry as he watched you drink the milkshake you ordered, but was a bit more calm as you played with the kids menu

Something you did whenever you were anxious, so he asked the waitress for one who looked concerned for you and he gave her a little look that made her heart shatter as you started to anxiously babble to fill the sudden silence.

So he reached over and grabbed you're hand

Darling, you're fine, you're not going back there. I promise."

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

He was already on his way ass soon as your caller ID (which was something like "Tatertot" or some weird Soap shit) popped up on his work phone

He answered as he drove.

"Johnny..? Can you come get me..? I-I got into a fight and need to be picked up at my parents..."

He heard your voice break and someone yell something in the background making your voice waver as you stepped outside

He was there in twenty minutes...

out of an hour drive

You didn't really hesitate as you rushed down the driveway and into his passenger seat and slammed the door.

You watched the wildlife speed by, zoning out, when he asked

"Yer dad give you those?"

You were confused at first before pulling your sleeves down farther and stayed quiet

Which was all he needed to get mad and grip the steering wheel

You knew you were safe, but his anger scared you

So your breathing picked up and he gently put his hand on your arm.

"Yer okay Bonnie, I'm not gonna hurt you. Him? Absolutely. You? Never."

John Price

Dad instincts when you called him

He hadn't really heard your voice like that since you thought you were going to die on the field

He picked up your favorite foods and a new blanket, hoodie, and stuffie

He walked up to the house door and stood like a harbringer of death as you answered the door.

He delicately pulled you out and tucked you behind him

He had that look in his eyes he only had when he was livid

You gently touched his arm and he got you to his car, lingering beside you as he gently kissed your head.

"I got ya sweetheart, just stay in the truck..."

He said as he buckled you up and tucked the blanket around you with your snacks and drinks before going back into the house

You heard yelling, which made you flinch, then silence

John came back out and calmly got in the truck and kissed your hand before giving it a gentle squeeze

"We'll be back for your stuff tomorrow hun, you're staying with me now"

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Rage

Just pure rage

Your caller ID popped up and he KNEW something was wrong

You don't call him

Not on the actual phone, always over Instagram on a burner account or Facebook or something

He left the room and answered your call

Soap had come to check on him and was concerned at the gleam in Kyle's eyes

Gaz didn't speak, he just left, and picked you up

He had your favorite music playing and a few snacks that he picked up at the corner store and just walked in

He didn't knock

He didn't announce his presence

Just walked in and scooped you up in his arms and left

You didn't ever go back

When your stuff went to be retrieved

Kyle did it

Along with Soap and Ghost who were really just there to keep Gaz from flipping his shit

I see him as a very protective boyfriend

Sebastian Krueger

Just a brooding asshole as he stood in the doorway

He had gotten your call and sped to get there

He didn't speak he just stood there as you got your stuff

The red marks on your face and the bruises forming on your arms made him angry

Everytime you left the house to but your books in his car, he rested his hand on his side weapon

Which he may or may not of forgotten he had on him until a family member pointed it out

Protective as fuck

Nikto

(i literally could find any for him 😭😭)

He was halfway there anyways

He just sped up and made a pitstop to grab some stuff you liked before picking you up

You gave him a sad little smile as you climbed in

You didn't buckle and just laid the seat back

Something you've only down a few times before curling into yourself

He gently ran his fingers through your hair as he drove off

He knew the area well, he grew up there

So he took you to a vacant field and flipped the center console of his truck up and slid over

He pulled you close and kissed your head as he rocked you slightly

His uniform uncomfortably rubbed against your skin as you gripped it tightly fighting against the tears that wanted to fall

"You can cry sweetheart, you're safe now"

Then you broke

You ugly cried against him

All the while he held you close and let you cry

He wasn't even mad right now

He was hurt

Hurt that someone that he swore was a divine being that couldn't be hurt

He buried his face in your hair once you cried yourself to sleep

"I'm sorry my sweetbaby, I'm sorry they hurt you... You didn't deserve that... I swear on whatever God is out there that I'll never let anyone hurt you ever again..."

Alex Keller

Kinda just showed up after your call

He stood there and kissed your head and pulled you close

He took you out for food, in his hoodie, and held you close as you ate

He kept pressing little kisses to your head and playing with your hair

He's a golden retriever so anything you asked for, you got that night

The two of you fell asleep on his couch, you curled up on his lap and him doing that dad sit with his arms around you

Farah Karim

No one fucks with her baby

She showed up with that angry lesbian look

She just has that look y'all I dated a lesbian and can fully saw they have this when pissed I thought I was gonna die- and I didn't even do it- my bestfriend does it too and i get terrified cause i have ✨anxiety✨

Kinda just stood there glaring down whoever the fuck put hands on you as she tucked you into her side and rubbed your back

You hid your face with your hair until you got on her bike and a bit down the road

"She hit me Far..."

You whispered and the bike slowed to a stop, she got off her bike (Putting the kick stand down of course) and circled around

She gently removed her and your helmet and pressed a kiss to your head as she gently inspected the bruise that was turning a hideous color

She looked like she was going to cry, or she was unimaginably pissed but you weren't sure which one

"I'm so sorry sweetheart, you didn't deserve to be hit. My sweet dove..."

She whispered as she held your face in her hands and pressed her forhead against yours

10/10 girlfriend

Valeria Garza

Showed up in a black SUV

Like four henchmen behind her as she knocked on the front door, when it opened she forced herself in and looked for you

She found you at the kitchen table and bent down, she gave you a little smile and laced her fingers with yours

You didn't look her in the eyes, you kept your gaze as low as you possible could, making her sad.

"Cariño? Look at me, tell me what happened..?" (Sweetheart)

Her voice was gentle and soft, but held an angry undertone as she hooked her finger under your chin and raised your head

Your busted lower lip told her everything as it quivered

"Are you mad..?"

Your voice was so quiet it sounded like a ghost

The broken words squeezed her heart as her hand moved up and held your face, her thumb rubbed your tear-stained skin

"Not at you, nunca a ti mi Amor..." (never at you)

She whispered and kissed you softly, and carefully as to not hurt your lip any

"Oh great. You're here to take that little bastard. It's your issue now. Now you can listen to it cry and call you a bitch and controlling"

Your mother's voice rattled off the inside of your skull making you look away as a bag was tossed at your feet and you reached down to get it only for Valeria to pick it up before you could reach it.

There was a dangerous gleam in Valeria's eyes as she helped you from the chair and noticed how you stood funny, all your weight on one foot as you leaned against her.

She helped you towards the door and gave your mother one last nasty look before leaving, she got you in the backseat and sat with you. Digging through the medkit in the back of the car and delicately cleaned your split lip as she gazed at you with such soft eyes.

"Mi hermosa mariposa … te mereces algo mejor que esto..." (My beautiful butterfly… you deserve better than this)

You didn't understand anything except "butterfly", she always called you that.

She always treated you so delicately and like you would break if she breathed to hard around you

At times like this, it made you glad for that school trip all those years ago. If you hadn't gone, you wouldn't have meet her and you wouldn't be safe.

You leaned into her, burying your face in her shoulder as your arms slowly went around her waist; holding her tight as your fingers gripped her vest. The material was uncomfortable, but you'd rather be uncomfortable than feel like you were a burden.

"Thank you," you whispered, "thank you Val..."

Konig

Was quiet about it when getting you out, he stood outside your home late that night

Catching your important things as you tossed them out the window

Then you when you jumped

He held you so delicately as your dog whimpered

You looked up at her as he carried you to his car, which was a bit down the road

Then he left

When he came back, your dog scrambled into the truck making you laugh and hug her tight as you cried

You gently pet her fur as you kissed her head and curled into Konig's seats

You were asleep by the time Konig got into the car

Your dog at your feet, her head in your lap, as he delicately put a blanket over you and softly pet your dogs head

"You did good protecting them girl, I'll take you to the vet as soon as possible..."

He spoke gently as he remembered how hysterical you when you called, not worried about yourself but instead your dog which had been kicked by your mother when your baby had jumped between the two of you and growled

He remembered how scared you were and how hard you cried as you screamed at your mother how that just wasn't right to do and that your dog was protecting you from her batshit insane ass

He remembered a loud slap, then the call ending

And now you were here, fast asleep in his car as he drove. His eyes floating over to your sleeping form every now and then when your dog whined.

the first thing he did, after getting you home, was take your dog to the vet to get her checked out

She was okay, just a bit bruised and had a tooth taken out

Konig took good care of her on the ride home, even ordered a pup cup (through the app, because he was to anxious to go through the drive through) from starbucks and sat in the parking lot holding the cup and feeding her dog treats.

He took good care of both of you the following morning and made sure you were patched up when he woke you up

He would've done it the night before, but he knew where your priorities were

Your dog and him.

It was always your dog and him, never yourself

Which was something he admired, but worried about you

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

He doesn't do anything confrontational

Just takes you and your cat in the middle of the night

Lets you know he's there and holds your hand while he drives

Keeps you on base with him

Makes you breakfast in the morning and keeps you distracted

Non-stop touch EX: puts in his hand on your back when you're walking, hand on your thigh while he drives, plays with your hair while cuddling, completely focused on you

Gets your stuff at a later date

Replaces certain things and loves you unconditionally

Alejadro Vargas

What's calm? Never met her

So many curse words

Literally broke so many road laws to get to you

Very angry

But very tender with you

Holds you behind him and holds your hand when you grab his

Very carefully drives with you in his car

Movie night after and kisses your head a lot

Bandages up the gash on your forehead

Every time he sees it though he gets angry and holds you tightly

When it scarred he felt guilt for not protecting you better

Still loves you so much though

Rodolfo Parra

Scarily calm

Stands there while you pack and follows you like a puppy

Notices your limp then kisses your head as he picks you up

"You're safe now, Me encargaré de todo, ¿vale?" (I'll take care of everything, okay?)

Sweetest boyfriend 10/10

Made you coco and kissed your head as he bandaged the splits on your knuckles

Extremely gentle with you and was slightly paranoid he'd hurt you

Nikolai

Silently angry Russian

A very... terrifying person when angry

Just leaned against the counter as you shuffled your important stuff out of your house

He genuinely was concerned about you, but was extremely mad about you being hurt

"Sweetheart... are you okay..?"

He whispered when the two of you were in his car

"Yeah just a little beat up..."

You whispered back with a giggle on your lips as you held his hand gently

Hs amazed that you were still so... hapy

"Fucking sunshine..."

He grumbled and lovingly pushed you before driving off

Grinch

The Southern came out

Made no sense in his bitter, angry, southern words

Pressed you so tightly against his chest you thought you were gonna break

The situation esculated and he had you behind him as more southern threats came from him, some of them made you giggle. Which did calm him down slightly.

The two of you got ice cream after

You ate your ice cream as he bandages the gash on your arm and the burn on your upper arm

He never understood how you could be so... happy when you just went through something so traumatic...

But if you were happy, so was he

Which it was hard not to be when you kept smearing ice cream on his forehead and nose and laughing so hard you'd cry

Sandman

A MENACE

Literally ruined their lives, starting when he picked you up

He messed with the front steps when he went into get you, he carried you out and set you in his truck with a gentle kiss on the forehead

"I've got you sweet love, you're safe..."

He promised as he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips before buckling you up and he shut the car door

He held your hand as he drove but kept his jaw clenched so he wouldn't remark about the slap mark on your face

Was very grumpy until you gave him kisses

Which was often because you craved his comfort as much as he craved yours

Frost

Your called ID popped up

He has you saved as some weird shit like "Twinkle Toes" (if you know you know)

He didn't asnwer because he was in a meeting but your voice was so broken in the voice mail it made his heart ache

You were sitting outside when he pulled into your driveway

He noticed the cigarette burns on the back of your hands when he approached and felt his blood boil

He gently bent down and pushed hair from your face, making you lean into his hand

"Hey babydoll... Are you... okay..?"

You gave a little nod and flinched when his hand completely rested against the tender skin on your cheek

"I guess..." you whispered "I hurt everywhere..."

Your voice was so broke and weak it made his stomach sick to know that someone had broken you down this far he barely recognized his stubborn and strong lover who sat in front of him

"Come on baby, let's get you out of here..."

His voice was so gentle and tender you broke down crying against him before leaning against him as he lead you to his truck.

He gently scooped you up and set you in his car with the compression blanket he used for his legs after really rough mission

He was gentle where he laid and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head before hearing the screen door slam shut behind him.

He put his military grade headphones on you and called Sandy (sandman) to talk to you as he shut the door

He made sure the volume was up loud enough you couldn't hear the screaming outside the truck as he stood there listening to it all before reeling back and knocking the mother fucker to the ground

He got back in the truck to see you dozing off, he smiled sweetly and raised your hand gently and pressed a kiss above the burn marks

He drove carefully and made sure to avoid the potholes as he saw them and glanced at you every now and then to make sure you were still sleeping well

He slept in his driveway that night, he didn't want to move you or leave you alone

So he slept out there with you

He took out for breakfast the next day, through the driveway of course

Kate Laswell

Mmmmnnnnn angry

Just angry

But she was calm as she called the police and drove calmly to meet them

She only lost her shit when she saw your torn clothes and battered up state

Her touch was so gently as she pulled you into her arms and watched as your parents approached you

She felt the slap but didn't make any action towards it, you on the other hand reacted in an aggressive way

She had to lead you out, still very calm, and sit you in her car as you screamed and cried as she held you softly and rubbed your back and soothed you

"You're okay baby, you're safe now, I won't let them hurt you, they'll never hurt you again."

She reassured you as she kissed your head gently and gave you a gentle squeeze, she was so calm it put you to sleep as she waited for the police

She greeted them with you in her arms and her lips pursed

She let them check you over and took you to the hospital and let them take care of you before taking you to her home and laying you in her bed, after putting you in one of her sweatshirts

She stayed up until you woke up the next morning and kissed you softly

The lack of sleep didn't bother her, so she was perfectly fine as she drove around with you and distracted you from the day before

She was definitely the calmest out of everyone-

Phillip Graves

hehehehe

He's not the government

He's a complete jackass

Made sly comments like:

"So... you wanna die?"

"I can see those burns on their pretty skin, do you want the same?"

You literally had to calm him down so you wouldn't have another fight on your hands

The black eye made him furious and how you limped made him see red

He was so gentle and docile with you as you gently held onto his arm

His hand delicately patted yours but quickly pulled away when you flinched

It wasn't until the late hours of the morning you actually left, you were to busy packing and calming Phillip down in between shuffles of his truck and your room

You fell asleep in his truck but woke up to him gently rolling your sleeves up to put some soothing cream on your arms

"Hey Sweetheart, have a nice nap?"

He asked with a chuckle before pressing a gentle kiss to your arm

You giggled gently and softly played with his hair

"I love you Phillip..."

"I love you too babybell"

Vladimir Makarov

He's a terrorist

He was a terror (pun intended)

He pulled a gun on your mother and held you close

No fucks given

You had to coax him into putting the gun away

"Mak... put the gun away... please put the gun away sweetheart... I don't want a murder charge..."

He put it away with a scoff when he saw how gentle your eyes were

He didn't understand how you could be so... concerned about the woman that had shoved you down stairs and sprained your wrist, making the skin an alluring purple and blue mix

The woman that left burns on your pretty hands, the woman that wore you down to the point you were almost unrecognizable from then you left to see her a week before

As he stared down at you his gaze softened and he delicately wrapped an arm around you

"Anything for you darling..."

You led him out and sat in the back seat of his car with you

You laid out on his seats with your head in his lap while someone drove, you looked up at him so sweetly as he brushed hair from your face

By the time you arrived at his safe house you weren't really upset anymore

He had amused your silly little thoughts the entire ride and made silly promises that he'd take you anywhere you wished, so when you named Paris he was... hesitant.

He didn't want you in the middle of his war, so he asked about Sweden

Which you agreed

You laughed as you stepped into his safe house and wrapped your arms around one of the thin support beams and swung around it

"We'll lay in the flower fields, if they'll let us, and cloud gaze!"

You yelled as you laughed, pulling a chuckle from him as he wrapped his arms around your waist

"Whatever you want to do, we'll do my love"

He muttered before kissing you gently, he could taste the blood on your lips making him worry that you had a busted lip

So he took your jaw in his hand and squeezed gently, making the bottom part of your face squish up and you look confused at him

"Open your mouth sweetheart, I wanna make sure that nothing inside that pretty, smart, little mouth of yours isn't hurt."

You rolled your eyes but complied, sticking your tongue out slightly for extra measure as you did

Which he quickly found the cause of the metallic taste

You had bitten your lip, really hard in fact, and it made him gently press a kiss to your tongue

"Ew!"

You exclaimed and pulled back and laughed as you covered your face

"You're disgusting Mak!"

You yelled with a laugh as he gently grabbed your wrist with his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of your palm

"Yeah but... you love me Darling"

You couldn't really argue with him so you just shuffled your hand out of the way and kissed him

"Damn right I do Sweetheart"

You eventually got into his bed as you tugged your shirt off and let him take care of your wounds

"How the literal, and I mean this as loving as possible Baby, did you get cut THERE?"

He asked as he moved your bra band up and gently put medical glue on the wound

"uuuhhh I dunno dude, I probably got it when I tumbled down the stairs"

You said with a shrug making him pinch your stomach

"Ow! Asshole that hurt!"

"Well don't move when I'm patching my doll up!"

He shot back, and you wouldn't yelled but you honestly were to flustered to

Your face burned and you scoffed

It took a few hours to actually get in bed

When you were dozing off, you had your head on his chest as he watched some stupid show in Russian

Though he had been nice enough to put on subtitles but you weren't really paying attention as your eyes fluttered shut

His arm was around your waist and delicately tracing shapes into the shirt, which was his, you wore

He pressed a kiss to your head and whispered:

"Sleep Маленькая кукла, you're safe now" (Little Doll)

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

Kinda just lurked behind you like a shadow

Very silent as he helped you pack

It was like two in the morning

He got you out of that house in an hour with all your stuff

He kissed your hand as he drove

He was the sweetest with you and held you while you cried at a pitstop and then drove with you in his lap when you passed out

10/10 boyfriend

we're all just going to pretend like I didn't forget him-

Definitely just showed up out of the blue and waited for you outside

You ran into his arms and hid your face in his chest

You pressed your face into his chest and gripped his uniform in your hands

He held you so gently and rubbed your back as your parents came out screaming

His eyes narrowed and one of his hands rested on your head and he held you tighter as he took a defensive step back before his arm went around your ass and he delicately picked you up.

"Is there an issue here?"

He asked, his voice so cold and detached as he held you up and laced his fingers with yours, calming you slightly

Your ankle was swollen and he caught a glimpse of a hand print on your upper arm and on your cheek as you shrunk into him and whispered:

"They hurt me..."

His grip became slightly tighter on you and he retreated to his truck, never turning his back

He treated this like a war zone, he pulled his truck door open and set you in as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

"You're okay now baby, you're safe. I promise..."

He whispered as you shrunk into his seat.

"alright... I love you Kees..."

"I love you too, come on, let's get you out of this shit hole..."

He gave you a lopsided smile and kissed you softly before closing his truck door

His scent, which was mostly sand and sweat if you were honest, soothed you

You found on of his hoodies, which he just carelessly threw in the back seat, and slithered into it

You pulled the hood over your head and pulled the string shut, fully engulfing yourself in his smell, which put you to sleep

You were passed out by the time Keegan got back in the truck, he smiled softly and carefully backed out of the driveway and headed towards his home

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peachyloveswriting · 1 year

Note

Hi can u do a Jealous Kyle?(THXS)

"Yeah. But you're mine." --- (Kyle Brovloski)

SUMMARY: Eric has always had the feels for you but it's really starting to get to Kyle.

WARNING: Slight smut, just making out that's it. Nothing too serious, recording. :).

NOTES: I've written in first person before and I do like it better than second person idk if it's gonna stick just lmk what you think.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

The lunch table around me is loud, I can barely hear any coherent conversations other than my own. I find myself shouting over the table, bickering with Eric. He glares at me smugly, a glassy film over his eyes. Usually it's Kyle who yells at him but I find that the space beside me has gone silent.

"Just shut up fatass!" I snap.

He snickers at me. "Only for you."

I cringe and shake my head, adverting my gaze to the untouched plate in front of me. It's likely cold by now from being so enthralled in my argument but it's much more appealing than looking at Eric's face. I'd rather look at death in the eyes than listen to Eric make such comments about me to my face. Eric has always flirted with me though, but I've never been interested in him. It's been happening everyday since fourth grade and occasionally I stop to think; If I just said me and Kyle were dating he might stop but for the sake of my privacy, I say nothing. At the start of our relationship, we agreed to not tell anyone so we could keep it to ourselves. I was and still am perfectly fine with that, until Eric started flirting with me again.

"I'm going to go roll me one, y'all coming with me?" Kenny pipes up from the end of the table.

Kyle's hand grips mine as he stands to his feet, turning everyone's attention to us. "I'm coming." He announces. After being quiet this whole time, I feel surprised to see him suddenly jumping to volunteer for skipping class. That's not much like Kyle at all.

When we snuck out the back with our stuff, there were five of us, Kyle, Kenny, Stan, Craig, and I. Sneaking out was almost a hassle but we all managed to get away unscathed, leaving the rest of our friends behind. Now that I'm further away from school, I can collect my thoughts. Kyle never wants to openly skip like that, especially not to smoke weed.

"You sure you wanna smoke with us?" Kenny asks, looking at Kyle with curiosity. Looking over at Kenny, he shakes his head. With my hand in his, he lightly tugs me closer to his side.

"I just wanted to get out." Kyle admits sheepishly before looking ahead.

I watch Kenny's eyes widen, exchanging glances with Stan in surprise. I was honestly thinking the same thing, Kyle hasn't smoked a blunt a single day of his life and he suddenly went to smoke with Kenny. Now I know that's not actually true but that he wanted out and that never happens. Something about this whole thing is off, from openly holding hands to skipping school. It's just not like Kyle.

"If you don't mind I'm going to my car." Kyle points back towards the student parking with his thumb. Everyone bids us goodbye and he begins to pull me towards his parking spot. The silence between us feels thick on the walk over, his grip on my hand is tight. So tight that my palms are beginning to sweat. I look up at Kyle, his face is contorted into disgust and discomfort, in his eyes dances a quiet anger. One that I know is settled in his belly. I don't say anything until we reach the car, close our doors and settle in. At first I'm honestly unsure of what to say, he doesn't seem sad, but he seemed disappointed and angry. Like he's confused on what to feel and it confuses me.

"Hey." Kyle is looking out the back windshield, his arm spread to the back of my seat for leverage while he backs out. He's not looking at me. I wait until he's at a stop at the exit to grab his attention back. "Kyle, I need you to pull over up here." Kyle wat he's where I'm pointing. Though he's looking with furrowed brows and wandering eyes, he does what I ask and pulls over onto the aide of the road. His gaze meets mine, he's questioning me silently, confused by what I'm doing. I know he wants answers but I take a second to put the car in Park for him.

"Why?" He finally asks stiffly. I look back up, meeting his gaze. His eyes are searching mine for any clues. Softly taking his hand into mine and intertwining our fingers, I frown at him. There's just something he's not telling me, it's been happening for a while now. I just didn't know how to address it.

"Is something wrong?"

His face scrunches up. "What? No, Why- I'm good." Fumbling his words, Kyle shuts his lips. His gaze starts to shift away from mine, looking out the windows at other things. He's biting his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth before repeating it again. I squeeze his hand, pulling his attention back to me.

"Baby, you're not acting right. Is something wrong? Be honest."

He stares at me with contemplation falling over his looks, he's looking from my eyes, to my lips, to my hands, and finally back at my eyes. "Kinda." He says, lowering his gaze from mine and shaking his head. Suddenly a smile breaks out on my face, I knew he would say something sooner or later. A little convincing is all he needed, that satisfies a part of me that looks out for him, the one that feeds off his emotions. Not in a bad way of course.

"Tell me, I'm listening." My thumb softly brushes over his knuckles, smoothing out the skin there in time. It's a soft way to let him know I'm here, that he can speak to me. Kyle tends to shut down over certain things, some of which I haven't exactly figured out yet, but his well being matters to me. That includes whatever this is.

Slowly, Kyle shakes his head again. "I just don't like the way Cartman treats you." His eyes meet mine again. "He flirts with you all the time and it pisses me off." Venom flares from his tongue, creating a hateful edge in his voice that tells me he's annoyed. I can't help but wonder if it's because he doesn't trust me or if it's just him becoming uncomfortable.

"I'm not going to let him do anything. I promise." I squeeze his hand again, just to accentuate what I said but he shakes his head again.

"it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't trust him. Sure, you could ignore him or tell him off but what's going to stop him from continuously thinking of you like that." A shudder rolls off his shoulders. "I don't like the thought of that."

"I don't either, but it's best if we leave it be. It's been almost seven years and he hasn't made a real move yet. I'm sure it's fine." Part of it is true but the other half doesn't feel as reassuring outside of my head, really my only goal is to sooth Kyle's worries but I seem to be interjecting myself now. He scoffs at my words and I furrow my brows. His eyes shift from discomfort to stern and sharp, an assured glare in his gaze. Maybe not directed towards me, but it sure feels like it.

"Yes, but you're mine." The roughness in his voice washes over me in a rain of tingling sensations, like tiny pellets raining down from the sky, pelting my skin. A shudder runs down my spine again. "I don't like him thinking he has a chance with you at all." Kyle finishes. Frustratedly, he points back at the school and groans at the end. Laughing softly and taking my hand away from his, I cup his cheek with it. The grin on my face can't be helped and neither can the heat, but I press forth.

"Yes, I'm yours. But maybe you should give him a reason to stop."

Suddenly it's like a fire lights up in his eyes, creating an evil grin right along with it. The cogs turning in his head are so obvious that I can practically feel the thought forming in his head. I'm unable to get my own thoughts out before he snaps his seatbelt back and presses a hard kiss on my lips. I hum in shock, my chest squeezing strangely in response. Roughly, our lips move together, a sort of sloppy manner tied in with it. Along my shoulders are his hands almost daring to pin me back against the seat and climb over. Still, they are teasingly holding me in place. I can feel one of his hands disappear from my shoulder but I'm not really looking to see what he's doing.

His teeth sink harshly into my bottom lip, pain shooting through it. Opening my mouth with a gasp, a small noise that can only be heard as a moan escapes me. Kyle begins to smile into the kiss, his other hand sliding down to my waist while slipping his tongue into my mouth. We've made out before but it's never been this intense before. I can even feel the tension building in the pit of my stomach, the kind that begs for attention. I didn't mean for it to slip out, but when it did I think both me and Kyle were shocked. "Please." The whimper is nothing more than a pathetic cry for attention, something that hitches the breath in the back of his throat for just a moment before he pulls away grinning like crazy.

"Yeah. That's right, beg for me." Callous in his voice sends a feeling of arousal between my legs, I squeeze them together in hopes of creating more but I get nothing in response.

"God damnit, Kyle." I huff.

Very slowly, with hazy half-lit eyes, Kyle pulls away. That's when I hear it, the sound of my own small plea repeating itself. My stomach twists, Kyle lifts his phone to reveal the whole thing on recording. My cheeks flood with heat and I look away, shy.

"I'm saving that for me." He mutters.

Looking back over I can see him saving it to his phone before opening up his messages. That's when I realized the name at the top is Eric's. Face red as ever I look back up at Kyle, my lips slightly agape and eyes wide. "Shit, that was hot."

Kyle snorts. Clicking the phone off, he looks at me. "I know it was. But it won't be for him."

"What if everyone sees?" I ask.

He puts the car back in drive with a proud grin on his lips. "They can look all they want." His hand comes to rest on my knee, squeezing softly. "At least they'll know you're mine."

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #south park headcanons #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x reader #craig tucker x reader

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: 2/22/22

summary: carmy receives bad news that changes his life forever, while you're relationship with him comes to a head. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only), death, grief, mentions of suicide, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language

word count: 5.5k

listen to: hurting kind - del water gap | robbers - the 1975 | hostages - the howl & the hum

a/n: i need therapy after writing this. so sorry bbs love you all. ok but fr, i thought that i was going to write a smut scene that was not going to be hot bc we know it's canon that carmy does not fuck and then it ended up being really hot and i'm once again asking for therapy.

read: chapter three

2/22/22

Something happened. Can you come over?

That’s all the text said. It’s all that needed to be said for you to drop everything you were doing and hop on the subway. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you imagine every single worst case scenario possible. Carmy had given you little context in regards to what this was about, and you almost regret not asking as your mind runs rampant with possibilities. Not that he would’ve given you an answer. Something about him seemed different. He’d never sent that urgent of a text.

Not even when the restaurant was slammed and he needed you to come in on your day off.

Something happened.

The words continue to echo in your head until you reach him.

You're at Carmy’s doorstep faster than you ever thought your feet could carry you, and when he opens the door for you, your heart breaks. He’s wrecked. His face is a flushed red, though you don’t think it’s from crying, and he looks like he hasn’t washed his fuckin’ hair in days. You take in his somber expression, like all of the joy he’s ever experienced has been sucked out of him.

Carmy steps aside, allowing him into your apartment.

He mumbles something you can barely hear, gesturing towards the couch, so you follow him, taking a seat on the crappy couch you’ve come to love. He stares at the floor, his eyes cold and empty, as you sit in silence.

It’s you who breaks it, bursting at the seams with anxiety.

“Carmy, you’re scaring me,” you say softly.

He keeps his eyes fixed on the floor as he licks his lips, swallowing as he opens his mouth to say something. It’s a few moments later that he’s finally able to put two words together to tell you what happened.

“It’s Michael,” is all he manages to get out. You can hear the break in his voice when he utters Michael’s name, and you’re terrified of what he’s going to say next.

“Your brother?” you ask, secretly hoping he won’t say yes.

You feel your stomach drop.

Carmy nods slowly, “Yeah.”

He takes a few beats before saying anything else, his head swimming. On one hand it doesn’t feel real, and if he doesn’t say it out loud, maybe it won’t be. There’s a part of him that still thinks this is some cruel, sick joke that Mikey cooked up, just to fuck with him.

But he knows it’s real. He could hear it in the way that Sugar’s voice broke on the phone. He could hear it in the way that Richie practically screamed at him to stop being such a fuckin’ cuck and come home. He knows it’s real, because for the first time in years, his mom’s called him.

Must be Sugar or something calling from her phone for her…. ‘S gotta be, he thinks to himself.

“He’s-,” Carmy starts, before stopping again. Carmy looks away, in the opposite direction of you, focusing his eyes on something outside of the window.

He can’t look at you because if he looks at you, he might lose it.

“He’s dead.”

“Oh Carmy,” you gasp, your heart wrenching in your chest as the words leave his mouth. You reach out to touch him, but he flinches, pulling away from you.

“No,” is all he says through gritted teeth.

You cannot touch me. You cannot make me feel better about this because I’ll have to feel worse about this, is what he wants to say.

“The fuckin’ asshole shot himself on the State Street bridge. I don’t-, you don’t get to make me feel better about this,” he snaps, his tone almost a warning.

“Fuck,” you sigh, sitting up straight and leaning towards him. He may not want your comforts, so you’re going to give your presence. He had asked you to come over after all, right? “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says, coldly.

His response is jarring, leaving an unsavory taste in your mouth. You understand that he’s just gotten the most unimaginable news, but it doesn’t sit right with that he’s taking it out on you either. Is that why he invited you over? To be his punching bag? Instead, you decide to pivot to crisis control-mode, hoping to remedy some of the animosity he’s harboring.

“Okay, well, I’ll call Kate and let her know that you can’t come in tonight, if that helps. Just so you don’t have to-,” you suggest.

“Why would you fucking do that?” he yells, snapping his head towards you as he finally turns towards you. You can see it in his eyes: how angry and devastated he is – at Michael, at what happened – and even though you know it’s not personal, it stings all the same.

“Because!” you shout back. “Carmy, you just found out-... something terrible. I just don’t think you should-.”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my mom and you’re not my girlfriend so,” he’s quick to retort, rebelliously.

You scoff at him, shaking your head in utter disbelief.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Carmen,” you cut him off with a yell. You know he’s hurting, but this is where you draw the line. “I’m well aware that I am not your girlfriend, but I am your friend, and I care about you.”

You’re right.

He knows you’re right.

He knows he’s being a dick, but it’s like he can’t stop his own rage from spilling out sideways as yells:

“Well, if you don’t want to be here, then get out!”

“Stop it!” you cut him off, venom in your voice.

Carmy looks at you, his bloodshot eyes wide with utter despair.

“You called me, Carmy. So shut the fuck up and let me fucking help,” you lower your voice, bringing the confrontation between the two of you back down.

With his eyes fixed to the floor, his mind zoning out to numb the pain, he manages to get out, “I don’t want to-. I need to go to work tonight.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you plead softly, yet firmly.

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to make that decision,” he dismisses.

He’s right. You don’t.

“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, giving in.

It’s a horrible idea – for Carmy to go into the restaurant – but you know he’s going to do it anyway.

“What can I do for you in the meantime?”

“I just-, I don’t think I can be alone right now,” he mumbles, averting his eyes once again. “Can you just like… sit here with me? Till we gotta go?”

“Yeah.”

The afternoon passes slowly, and you feel like the both of you have been lit on fire – only a matter of time before you burn his whole place down. As you’re getting ready to leave, Carmy sprints into the bathroom, emptying what little contents he has in his stomach into the toilet. You’d been aware that he’d been having some trouble – throwing up before work – but he’d refused to see a doctor. Another decision he’d made clear wasn’t yours to make. What you weren’t aware of was that it had gotten this bad.

Like you’d imagined, going into the restaurant had been a mistake. It hadn’t taken long for Carmy to blow up at a line cook, mid-shift, over an undercooked duck breast. Sure, it was a big mistake, but Carmy had sent the line cook home after making a very public example of them. After the event, Tim had urged Carmy to take a break, offering to expedite for a few, while you rushed him into the walk-in.

“Hey! You can’t do this shit. Not here. These people look up to you!” you chastise him.

“He’s a fucking idiot! How do you undercook a fucking-,” Carmy yells, his face twisted into a look of disgust.

“Carmy!” you shout, stopping him mid-sentence.

You both know this is not about the duck breast.

You share a moment of silence together, the cold of the walk-in leaving goosebumps on your skin. You lower your voice, a quiet and intentional demand leave your lips as you instruct:

“Listen, I’m going to give you five minutes to fuckin’ lose it in here, and then you’ve gotta pull it together and finish dinner service, okay?”

He nods in response, his lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. You watch him pace a few times, before he clutches at his chest, his breathing becoming more uneven.

This is why coming in had been the worst idea ever.

“Carmy, are you o-?" you start, genuinely worried about him. You feel like your head is spinning. Carmy is losing control and all you can do is watch.

He holds out a hand, as if to stop you from coming any closer, so reluctantly, you leave him to it, closing the door behind you. The sound of empty storage containers being thrown across the walk-in fills your ears, as you close the door to the walk-in behind you. You feel like your heart is caught in your throat and watching him go through this is more painful than you could’ve ever imagined. You take a deep breath before returning to your station, keeping your head down for the rest of the shift.

Dinner service is pure chaos as Carmy undulates from unbroken focus to volatile and unpredictable throughout making the evening hell for the rest of you. The tension is thick, and it’s as if everyone is walking on eggshells around him, more so than normal. By the time it’s over, you insist on walking Carmy home. You make a stop at your favorite deli near his apartment to pick up a quart container of matzo ball soup on the way.

“You gotta eat something,” you encourage, the silence in his apartment deafening.

You’re met with silence as he stares blankly at the table in front of him, his spoon dipped into the soup. Instead, you sit with him, watching him take a few sips of the broth, while the actual food in the soup goes untouched. He doesn’t have the stomach for it.

He doesn’t know if he has the stomach for this either.

All of this. Any of this.

You eventually give in, packing up the soup to put in the fridge for another day, even though you know he’ll probably just toss it when you leave. Just when you think it’s time for you to go, he stops you with the most tender touch to your arm, as he asks:

“Stay?”

His eyes are watery, and although he’s going to let himself cry yet, he looks more vulnerable than he’s looked all day. How could you say no?

“Yeah,” you agree.

You change into one of your favorite t-shirts of his and the pair of sweatpants that he always seems to give you as you get ready for bed. He doesn’t even wear them anymore, as if he knows they’ve become your favorite… as if they’ve just become yours. You spend the evening with the TV on, not talking, just sitting in each others’ company. You watch as he smokes a cigarette inside, stress-running a hand through his slicked back hair from his shift earlier.

Tonight feels heavy.

Tonight is heavy.

Before bed, you fill up a glass of water for him, before placing it on his bedside table. Carmy lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as you crawl into bed with him.

He’s too afraid to his close his eye, because if he closes his eyes he’ll picture it: the State Street bridge, Michael….

How could he? he thinks to himself, the bitter taste of betrayal welling up at the bottom of his throat.

You close your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep next to Carmy – something that feels like an impossible task when you can practically hear him thinking out loud beside you. Instead, the two of you just lay there, frozen in silence. You’re not sure how long you’ve been doing it for when you feel Carmy shift closer to you.

He turns to you so tenderly, practically folding himself into your body, earning the smallest gasp of surprise from you. You’ve never seen him like this as he buries his face into your chest, his body shaking against yours. It’s then that you realize he’s crying, and you know it’s highly likely that this is the first time he’s cried since he heard the news.

“Carm?” you whisper, unsure if he wants you to acknowledge it or not.

“Carmy.”

But he doesn’t respond. He just cries.

So you let him.

“I’m so sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry,” you whisper, over and over again.

You stroke his hair, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain of your best friend, but you know there isn’t much you can do. Instead, you let him cry, running your fingers along his scalp and through his delicate curls, desperate to give him any kind of comfort you can. This is breaking your heart. You fight the tears coming to your eyes because this is so not about you right now.

Carmy’s body shakes against yours as he finally lets go, surrendering to the huge waves of pain and grief that crash and pull him under. He feels like he’s being taken under a riptide, never to see the surface again. He knows he’s been wildly unfair to you and as he weeps against your body and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve someone like you.

Someone who chooses to say, even when he’s being a dick.

Someone who cares enough to fight with him.

Someone who cares for him like this.

When he finally looks up at you with bloodshot eyes and swollen lips, all he can think to do is to kiss you.

It catches you off guard as he surges forward, pressing his lips against yours, that for a moment, you let him.

But reality hits and you’re afraid he’s gotten too carried away, swept up in a moment of grief.

“Carmy, stop it. You’re not-, you’re not okay right now,” you murmur, pushing him away.

He leans his head against your chest again with a sigh, letting out another sob, almost as if he’s given up on the idea. You feel like he’s put you in an impossible position. You’d have been lying if you said you didn’t want to – hadn’t thought about kissing him before – but this felt wrong. He was vulnerable, and you know you’ll both regret it in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Carm,” you apologize quietly. “I just feel like-, well I’d feel like I'd be taking advantage. I don’t think we should.”

His silence only makes you more nervous, beginning to over explain yourself.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I-, I do. I just… I don’t want you to regret it because… because you’re upset right now and cause you more-.”

“Please,” is all he says, cutting you off mid-sentence. With the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the sun, the moon, and you hang the stars, you’re not sure how to say no.

Carmy leans in to kiss you once more before whispering mere inches away from your lips:

“Please.”

He presses his lips against yours again, immediately regretting his past self for not doing this sooner. He’s never tasted anything sweeter than you, and the way you kiss him back seems to bring all thoughts flooding his brain to a halt.

In between kisses you manage enough self control to stammer out, “Are you- are you sure? Is this really what you-?”

“Yes,” he replies, as if it’s a declaration.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just-, please,” he pleads, murmuring your name into the soft kisses he begins to leave across your collarbone. “Just wanna feel good.”

“Just wanna feel good,” he repeats.

You surrender, letting go of your own ambivalence as you focus on the way his lips feel against your skin. It’s then that you realize what absolute fucking idiots the two of you had been for the past few years by ignoring this thing between the two of you. For a moment, you’ll tear down the walls, the rigid boundaries that you’ve kept to help you compartmentalize your relationship with Carmy.

There’s no possibility of hiding from it when his body feels this good so close to yours.

The truth is that you are fully, wholly, and stupidly in love with each other.

“Yes,” you parrot.

With your confirmation, his mouth is back on yours, as you’re pulling him on top of you, deeper into your shared passionate liplock. He wonders why he’s denied himself the pleasure of having you, for this goddamn long. His tongue slides against yours, a tender hand moving up to cup your face. The way his name sounds tumbling out of your mouth sends him into a frenzy. It feels absolutely intoxicating and he can’t get enough.

Carmy’s hands begin to wander, fingertips sliding at an experimental pace underneath the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing. You shudder against his touch, gasping as you anticipate where this is going.

Carmy raises his head to look at you, not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

“This okay?” he asks you, concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah,” you nod, giving him permission. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing you again, dragging calloused fingertips up and down your torso underneath the shirt, hesitantly making their way to where they’d like to be. You’re not wearing a bra, he realizes, as his fingertips find soft, supple skin at the rounded bottom of your breast. He follows the shape of it, before bringing a cautious palm up to grab hold of the fullness of your breast. You arch into his touch, encouraging him further. Carmy takes his time exploring your body, giving you the lightest touch as his fingertips graze your nipple.

“Can I take this off?” he questions, only willing to move forward if you say yes.

You nod, breathlessly, “Please.”

You watch as he sits up, pushing the hem of your shirt up over your breasts, revealing your bare body to him. He has to hold back a groan, swallowing hard.

Carmy stops what he’s doing, in pure awe of you, as he marvels at you. He can’t believe this is real: that you’re here, laying in his bed, allowing him to do the things he thought could only live in his head.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” are the words that tumble out of his mouth and you think you may cry.

“Touch me,” you whisper desperately, begging him to come back to you.

“Touch me, Carmy.”

Carmy lays his body over yours, and you spread your legs wider, allowing him to fit perfectly between them. He begins to roll his hips against yours as he returns his attention back to your bare breasts. He drags his fingertips over your erect nipples, following his touch with his mouth.

He practically groans as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, earning a strangled whine from you as his hot, wet mouth engulfs you.

“Carmy,” you moan, arching into him.

He’s rolling his hips against your clothed core on pure instinct, as he takes his time, now exploring unfamiliar territory with his lips and his tongue. You find a good rhythm as he continues to drag his mouth over you, grinding your hips into his underneath your remaining clothes. He’s surprisingly good at this – something you hadn’t expected considering he’d let you know he didn’t have much experience when it came to dating. You assumed that that meant sexually as well.

As Carmy moves to your other breast, you feel one of his hands snake under the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, lifting his hips so he can feel you. You know you’ve soaked through your cotton panties from the anticipation, and it goes right to his dick as he feels just how wet you are. He doesn’t have much experience with this, but he’s seen in porn. He begins to rub circles across your clothed core, while he busies his mouth with exploring your other breast.

But he’s not quite where you want him.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him.

Had he just gotten caught up in the moment?

Did you not want to go this far?

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks you, a concerned tone in his voice.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him, shaking your head. “No, I just-.”

Instead of explaining, you reach down to grab his hand, guiding him just a little higher up to your clit. He presses the rough pad of his index finger against it, finally touching you where you need him, gasping to let him know that he’s found the right spot. His eyes are locked on you, watching your face change as the new spot you’ve shown him brings you more pleasure than he could’ve imagined.

He practically groans into your mouth when he hears the way you whine his name, and he swears he’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

“There?” he asks you, rubbing tight circles across your clit.

“Yes,” you pant, growing wetter with every touch.

Carmy pulls away just for a moment, daring to touch you underneath your panties. You’re so wet for him, and he thinks he may lose his mind as he slides his index finger in between your folds curiously.

“Take them off,” you practically demand.

“Hm?” he hums, lost in the way you look at him with hooded lids and pupils blown out with pure desire.

He’s never been this guy.

The guy that gets the girl.

He never knew he could feel like this guy, but here you are, begging him to undress you.

“I said take them off,” you repeat yourself, more desperate this time. You take a lighter approach with what you say next, the smallest giggle in your voice. “And while you’re at it, we gotta get you naked too.”

“Yeah,” he says, with the kind of conviction he’d say ‘heard’ with.

He’s stripping off his shirt, and you’re sliding your pants and underwear off with him.

“I have a condom in my emergency kit,” you say, the both of you busy shedding your clothes.

“Yeah?” he asks you, relieved to hear it. He hadn’t thought that far yet.

“Yeah, hold on,” you reply, getting up from the bed.

Carmy thinks he may pass out as he watches you stand, giving him a full view of your naked body. You disappear only for a moment, before returning with the small emergency kit you always keep in your backpack. It’s equipped with all the ‘just-in-cases:’ tampons, panty liners, safety pins… condoms. You pull out a single condom before returning to the bed. Carmy’s kneeling on the bed, and you mirror his body language, doing the same.

“What would you like to do?” you inquire softly.

As turned on and hot for him as you are, you want to make sure that he still wants to do this. He finds himself surprised at your question, not sure how to answer it.

“Think we can just pick up where we left off?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you reply.

You place the condom down beside you on the bed, before leaning in to press your lips against his again. He inhales as you kiss him, his tongue immediately sliding against yours as one of his hands goes to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. He’s surprised as you pull away from him, beginning to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his neck, his chest, and he hisses in anticipation as run your hands down his muscular abdomen, following with your mouth.

“Hold on, I uh-,” he stutters out, as he anticipates where you’re going with this.

You pause, sitting up tall as you kneel, your body across from his.

“I just uh… if you do that, I don’t know if I’ll last long,” he admits, a blush running across his cheeks.

“Yeah, no. Totally cool,” you reassure him, before crashing your lips against his once again.

As you tangle your tongues together once again, Carmy begins to lead you down towards the bed, pushing you back, and climbing on top of you. He still has his sweatpants on, so you begin to bring your hands down to them. He hisses as you cup his rock hard erection, pleasantly surprised by what you feel.

“Wanna take these off?” you ask in between kisses.

“Yeah,” Carmy nods, sitting up for a moment.

You wait with baited breath as he strips his sweatpants off, wondering if he’s as thick as he feels. You’re practically pulsing, squeezing around nothing as you finally see him, Carmy, your best friend, fully naked.

God, he’s beautiful.

How had you not noticed how physically attractive he was?

It’s not that you hadn’t noticed. It’s that you hadn’t let yourself think about it.

You reach over to where you left the condom, handing it to him. Carmy takes it, a blush running across his cheeks as he rolls it on, still in disbelief that you’re about to do this. He returns to you, laying his body over top of you as you space for him once again between your legs. He’s hesitant to give you his full bodyweight as he gives you a long, passionate kiss. And before he knows it, you’re reaching down to stroke him, and he’s thrusting into your hand, his breath becoming heavier and heavier.

You feel him as he presses his tip against you, rubbing it up and down before pushing into you. You both gasp as he gives you shallow thrusts, testing the waters, thrusting deeper into you with each one.

He pauses, exhaling as he’s fully inside of you. You’re pulsing around him, practically causing him to lose his mind with the way you feel alone.

“Fffffuck, you feel good,” he moans, trying not to cum right then and there.

He begins giving you shallow, hesitant thrusts, unsure of himself. He wants to make you feel good. And he’s also terrified that this is going to end before it’s even properly started.

Carmy stops again, pausing within you.

“Sorry, I just-.”

“No, it’s okay. Take your time.”

He’s nervous. You can tell he’s nervous and that he’s trying not to cum.

“How about… I take control?” you suggest, hesitantly. “And that way, if you need me to stop we can um… well, you can just tell me.”

“Uh… yeah,” he agrees with a nod. “Sure.”

Clumsily, the two of you switch positions, making sure he knows you’re okay with this. As he lies on his back, staring up at you, you straddle his hips, giving him the smallest smile. You reach down, guiding him into you once again. You gasp as he fills you, his thick cock stretching you, especially in this position. Carmy’s hands go to your hips as he watches you take him.

“You feel really good too, Carm,” you finally say, your hands moving to his chest to brace yourself as you begin shifting your hips forward and back at the most unbearably slow pace.

Carmy thinks he must be dreaming as he watches you ride him. His hands slide over your hips, wrapping around your body so that he can touch your butt. He’s practically digging the pads of his fingers into your hips as you begin moving over him at a faster pace.

“Shit… you’re really good at this,” he groans, as you lean down to kiss him.

You giggle against his lips, and whatever thoughts he has in his head disappear. Carmy begins thrusting up into you, his hands on your hips encouraging you to move a little faster as you kiss him. You’re moaning his name, whining as you feel every single inch of his cock slide against your walls, becoming more and more breathless by the minute. Your gasps turn into moans, getting higher in pitch as you go. His hands are guiding your hips, taking some control back as you grind against each other.

“Carmy,” you cry out as he thrusts his hips hard into you. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” he asks. You nod, breathless, as you bury your face into his chest.

He holds your hips down, pinning you down against him as pushing his hips into yours.

“You wanna switch?” he asks, breathless. “Can I-?”

“Please,” you reply eagerly.

You switch positions once more, and as Carmy guides himself into you again, you can tell he’s much more confident than last time you’d found yourself in this position. You wrap a leg around his waist and he holds you there, beginning to move his hips against yours again. He works his way up to a rapid pace, his face turning red as he does, and you’re writhing underneath his body, whispering the dirtiest things into his ear with every single thrust.

“Holy shit, Carmy. You feel so goddamn good too,” you praise him. “God, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yeah?” he manages to get out in between grunts.

“Yes. Please let me cum,” you beg him, as he hits that spot inside of you, earning another loud cry.

“Don’t stop.”

He’s surprised to learn that he likes it when you beg as he tangles his fingers with yours, pinning you down so that he can fuck you. With your hand in his, so close to your climax, you let slip:

“I thought about this too. I’ve wanted this for so long too, Carmy.”

“Fuck,” he howls as he drives into you, his sole purpose to earn more praise from you. To hear you cry out his name. To give you what you’ve been begging for.

You angle your hips upward so that he can go even deeper, hitting all the way to the back of you. You’re grasping at his back, his arms, his biceps, hanging onto any piece of him that you can as he shudders, letting out the most guttural sounds. You’re squeezing around him, as he takes you to your high. The feeling of you cumming, squeezing around him like your life depends on it drive him wild, and he’s fucking you through it, the feeling of your orgasm bringing him to his.

As you finally come down, you pull Carmy in for a searing kiss.

“Holy shit, Carm,” you say, breathlessly.

“Yeah,” he pants against your lips.

Even if just for tonight, all feels right in the world.

This feels right.

The light of day is sobering. Before Carmy’s even had a chance to open his eyes, the events of the day before come flooding in, running in vicious circles around his mind: the phone call from Sugar, Richie screaming at him… and then….

Fuck.

He’d crossed the line with you.

He doesn’t know whether to be mad at himself or devastated that he fucked up, considering he’s sure as hell not going to let himself feel anything about Mikey yet.

Michael.

Michael’s dead.

And he might’ve done the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do – the one thing that he’d been afraid of: that he might just lose you.

As you stir in bed next to him, slowly blinking your eyes open, you turn over on your side. Carmy’s sitting on the edge of the bed and you can see Carmy’s stuck in his head. While you’d let yourself surrender to whatever that was last night, you knew today was different.

“Hey,” is all you say, hugging Carmy’s bed sheets closer to your naked body.

“Um… listen. We don’t have to-,” you begin, searching for the right words. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? I don’t-. You’ve got a lot going right now and-.”

You take a breath. You know the two of you can’t be together right now, even after your revelation last night.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Carmy swallows, fighting back the emotions that begin to swell in his chest.

He feels sick to his stomach.

But he doesn’t want to do this in front of you.

“Yeah, no. We can… we can just forget it,” is all he gets out, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“You sure?” you question.

He takes a beat before answering:

“I don’t want to lose you either.”

And even with the declaration you’d made – the promise to forget since neither of you could afford to lose each other – things had become different. In the weeks following, your communications with Carmy were less than normal. While you understood he was processing, grieving, he’d withdrawn from you, and it hurt more than you had the words for.

You’d check in, making sure he knew you were here for him if he needed to talk. But he put his head down, working night after night at the restaurant, cold, stoic, and checked out. You worried about him. And you also knew that you both needed some space from each other.

Some days you regret it – sleeping together – and other days, you don’t. You think that maybe everyone had been right about the two of you all along – that this had been inevitable. But it happened under the worst timing, the worst circumstances and you miss your best friend. You wish, in some ways, that two of you could just go back to normal.

read: chapter five

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