#honestly all the lives are so good like so much props to the band
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The Other Wheeler 2
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader
Summary: you’re normally the forgotten Wheeler to anyone other than Mikes friends but Eddie is captivated by you upon first glance.
Word Count: 5202
A/n: No Taglist for this series.
Eddie Masterlist | Series Masterlist
When you wake up in the morning a little disoriented and it takes you a minute to remember where you are. You’re still laying on Eddie’s chest, one arm wrapped around his waist. One of his arms is still wrapped around your shoulders while the other one is folded up to support his head. You lift your head up to peek at the alarm clock next to his bed to find its seven twenty six. You hold in the groan that wants to make its way out of you since you know there’s no point in going back to sleep if you’d have to wake up soon anyway.
You’re slow to sit up, making sure you don’t wake the sleeping boy next to you. You’ll wake him up when you’re done getting ready if his alarm hasn’t done so already. You’re quick to grab your clothes for the day along with your toothbrush and paste once you’re out of bed. The pattering of your feet is quiet so to not wake his uncle who you remember him saying would be home. You’re as quiet as you can be as you get ready for the day.
“I was just about to wake you up.” You jump at the voice coming from the other side of the door. The man on the other side's eyes widens when you open the door. “You’re not my nephew.”
“No, I’m Y/n Eddie’s friend. I hope it’s alright I stayed the night, my dad kicked me out for a few days. I can find somewhere else to go tonight if it’s a problem though.” The last thing you wanted to do was be a burden or have anyone here feel like you’re forcing your way into their lives.
“No, that's fine you stay here as long as you need.” Honestly, Wayne’s just excited to meet a new friend of Eddie’s. It’s not often his nephew will bring new ones around and he knows it’s because it’s not often Eddie makes them. He can’t help but feel for you though for the reason you’re here.
“You want some breakfast or something? There isn’t much but there should be a box of poptarts in the cupboard.” Wayne scratches the back of his neck as he asks, not completely sure how to go about this situation.
“Oh, no I’m good. Thank you for the offer though. I’ll wake Eddie up and head out, I gotta pick up my brother and his friends.” You send a smile his way and head back into Eddie’s room, your clothes balled up in your hands. You shove them into the emptier half of your duffle bag and straighten up, hands on your hips wondering how you’re going to wake your sleeping friend up.
A bouncing on Eddie’s bed wakes him from the dream he was having of being on tour with his band. He stirs and groans not wanting to wake up and face the reality that it doesn’t seem like Corroded Coffin is going anywhere anytime soon, maybe ever.
“So is Eddie your actual name or is it short for something?” Eddie’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice shocked to hear it before remembering the events of last night.
“It’s short for something.” He closes his eyes again, sinking back into his pillow.
“Well what’s it short for?” He just shakes his head not answering and getting poked in the cheek as a response. “Come ooon. You gotta get up anyway.”
“I’ll start listing names, you just stop me when I get the right one.” Eddie peaks an eye open to study you laying next to him arms folded up behind your head. A man could get used to waking up to a view like this.
“Edgar, Edison, Eduardo, Edward, Edwin, Edmund?”
“Edmund?” Eddie opens his eyes completely and rolls onto his side propping his head up with his hand. There’s laughter in his voice. “You really think I look like an Edmund?”
“Hmm, you’re right. You’re definitely more of an Edgar.” The look of mock shock and hurt on his face sends you into laughter. “You can tell me later but for now you gotta get up and get ready for school and I gotta go pick up all the kids.” You pat his chest and roll off the bed to slip your shoes on.
“Want me to go with you? We can take the van and have more room for them.”
“That’s a great idea but Max finally agreed to let me drive her again and I’m hoping that means I can get her to open up a little bit to me before I get everyone else. Oh, your uncles up and about by the way. I swear I didn’t mean to wake him up if I did. I can go somewhere else tonight so I won't do it again tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do that. Wayne normally gets up around now to make sure I’m up. So you didn’t wake him.” Eddie gets up and stretches as he speaks while you ignore the sliver of skin exposed from his shirt rising up. “You want something to eat before you go? There should be poptarts.” The fact that he basically repeated what his uncle had offered you earlier brings a smile to your face. Turns out both Munson men are kind and giving creatures.
“I’m good. Dustin normally gives me some of the breakfast his mom made when I pick him up. But thanks for offering. See you later alligator!” You wave and make your way out of the room before stopping and popping your head back in. “You’re supposed to say in a while crocodile. It’s fine, you’ll get it next time. See you at school.” Eddie smiles and shakes his head staring at the ground as you leave.
“Maxiiine!” You sing as you knock on her door after leaving the Munson trailer. “Maxy poo, Max, Max and cheese.”
“What?” She can’t help but laugh softly a little bit as she opens the door with her headphones around her neck.
“You ready to go? We’re grabbing Dustin first and then the others.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be I guess.” You swing your arm around her shoulder and lead the way to the car.
“You get shotgun since you’re first on my carpool route.” The two of you slide into the car and you pull out of the spot you parked in.
It’s silent in the car for a couple of minutes and you continuously glance over at her to see if she’s put her headphones on yet. All she seems to do these days is stick to herself blocking everyone out with them. You’ve been worried about her for a while now.
“So how have you been? How’s school?”
“It’s school.” She shrugs and looks out the window.
“Anything new going on with you?”
“I broke up with Lucas.” Your eyes go wide at this new information.
“You what? When, why?”
“The other day, he wouldn’t leave me alone and I had enough of it.” So in other words he probably tried to get her to move on too much when she doesn’t seem to want to. You’ll have to figure out another way to try to get her to open up to you then. You’re a little shocked Lucas hasn’t said anything about it to you though.
“Is it gonna be weird being in the car together?”
“I’m cool if he’s cool. Were you fine over at Eddie’s last night?”
“Yep! I met his uncle this morning too, he’s nice. If it follows the same pattern it always does I’ll be back home and avoiding my dad in a couple days. If not then I’ll ask Steve about staying at his place for a night or two and figure it out from there. I don’t wanna intrude on anyone's space for too long.” You were sure your mom would come get you again though so you shouldn’t even have to think about asking Steve.
“There’s always my place and I’m sure Claudia wouldn’t even bat an eye before sweeping you off into the guest room.”
“That’s true.” Dustin’s mom loves you like you’re her own having gotten to know you through the stories Dustin’s told her and the times you’ve been invited inside for dinner after dropping Dustin off at home or breakfast when you’ve picked him up.
Dustin’s already outside when you pull up to the house holding something, probably your breakfast for the day, wrapped in tinfoil. He barely even looks up until he’s about to open the passenger door where he freezes upon seeing Max in his seat.
“What happened to the rules of shotgun?” He asks as he climbs into the back choosing to sit in the middle seat so it’s easier to talk to you.
“Sorry Dustin but Max was the first one picked up besides you don’t wanna make her sit in the back with the rest of the pack do you?”
“Why was she first picked up?”
“I stayed at Eddie’s last night, pops kicked me out again. What’s in the foil?” You shrug in nonchalance letting Dustin know it’s not a big deal like you normally would when he found out. And as much as he’s itching to ask you about what happened the way you say it lets him know you don’t want to talk about it. So instead he looks down at his hand and holds out the wrapped food for you.
“Mom made you a breakfast sandwich.”
“Wonderful!” You yoink it out of his hand and start unwrapping it at the next stop sign. “We’re getting Mikey along with the Sinclairs today Dustin, so be prepared to make room.” He groans about there not being any room to make while you blissfully ignore it to bite into the heaven that is Claudia’s homemade breakfast sandwich.
You honk your horn as you park between both your own and the Sinclairs homes. Lucas and Erica appear first sliding in on either side of Dustin as Mike starts making his way to the car. As soon as it finally registers to Lucas that Max is in the car his eyes go wide and he fumbles around in his head looking for something to say.
“Hey Mike! Do you have everything you need?”
“Yeah. Why do I always get stuck sitting uncomfortably?” He tries to squeeze between Lucas and the door and when he fails he folds himself up to sit on the floor behind Max’s seat.
“Because everyone else gets here first.” You speak around a mouthful of food after you shove the last bite into your mouth.
The car ride is filled with the boys in the back discussing and talking animatedly about the campaign they were in the middle of for their club with Erica calling them idiots every once in a while. You ask questions here and there to join in or talk with Max but mainly you just drive with the biggest grin on your face over having almost all the boys in your car again. It makes you miss Will even more and more excited than ever to see him over Thanksgiving break.
You pull in front of the middle school first Erica hopping out and Dustin moving over so Mike doesn’t have to sit on the floor for the last couple of minutes. You wait until they’re all situated in the back before pulling away and heading into the high school parking lot. As the boys climb out you put a hand on Max’s arm to stop her from getting out and running.
“You want a ride home today? I can drop you off before I head to work, the boys will be in Hellfire and Erica has a tutoring thing so it’ll be just you and me.”
“Can you actually just take me with you to work? I’ve been meaning to find some new music.”
“I can do that.” She smiles your way before getting out and heading straight for the school instead of waiting around like the boys do. Lucas yells a quick bye to you before rushing after her hoping to be able to ask her how she’s doing. Dustin shares a look with Mike as you reach in to grab your bag before starting to walk off.
“Bye Y/n! Thanks for the ride!”
“See ya Dustin!”
“How was your night?” Mike asks in a quiet voice worried that he’ll upset you if he brings what happened up. You just smile a little at how it shows he cares before shrugging a shoulder and looking his way.
“It was as good as it could be, all things considered.”
“Where’d you end up going?” He knows that the last time it happened you crashed at Steves and the time before that Dustin’s but he likes to know that you’re somewhere safe.
“I stayed at Eddie’s, figured it would be easy for us to work on the project and everything that way and then I wouldn’t have to bother Steve with it again.” You make your way into the building Mike sticking close to your side. “He’s nice. I see why all of you became so close to him so fast. His uncle seems like he’s a great guy too, I met him this morning.”
Mike is silent as he wonders how you fit in the Munson trailer with there being one room. He assumes that Eddie gave you his bed knowing his older friend wouldn’t have made you sleep on the couch, but he also knows that you’re not one to kick someone out of their own bed. His thoughts are interrupted when you speak again.
“How was it after I left?”
“Mom got home and Nancy told her about what happened after saying she’ll get Holly ready for bed. Her and dad got into a fight again, I’m pretty sure he slept on the couch.”
“Serves him right.” You scoff opening up your locker to replace the books in your bag with the ones you need today. “How long do you think it’ll be this time before she comes looking for me?”
“Honestly, I’m not too sure. She’s pissed but he’s being-”
“A stubborn ass?”
“Right. So she might find you soon but he won’t be ready to let you back in.”
“I should probably just start looking for a place of my own now. It’d solve so many problems. He doesn’t even seem like he’s ready to play nice again?” You shut your locker and turn to look at your brother.
“Not really.” Mike has to swallow the lump forming in his throat at the mention of you moving out before speaking.
“Great.” You roll your eyes at the situation. “Alright well love you Mikey, I gotta head to class and you still have to get to your locker. Eddie’s driving you home after Hellfire still right?”
“Yeah, he should be.” You nod, swinging your bag back over your shoulder.
“See you around kid.” You mess up his hair and start heading to your next class missing the way he watches you leave torn between wanting to be normal and not cause a scene and throwing himself into your arms for one of your comforting hugs. He hasn’t had one in a while and with the threat of you moving out and probably never coming around anymore he could really use one.
“How’d your psych test go?” Eddie surprises you at lunch by dropping himself into the seat next to yours at lunch before going to his regular table.
“I’m pretty sure I nailed it. Did your group get tired of your shenanigans and kick you out?”
“And to think I was going to invite you over to sit with us.” He tsks and shakes his head, getting a small laugh out of you. You rest your chin on your hand and lean in his direction with a playful glint in your eyes.
“Who said I wanted to shack up with a bunch of hoodlums.” He leans right back into you so your foreheads are almost touching.
“I’m pretty sure you did last night darlin’ when you were begging to stay over.” There's a moment where the two of you just stare into each other's eyes. Eddie’s flick down to your lips before he jumps out of his seat pulling yours out. “Now c’mon Princess your throne awaits.”
“Don’t say a word.” Mike grumbles to Dustin from where they pause to watch the two of you on their way to the table before stomping the rest of the way over leaving his friend in laughter.
“Guys, this is Y/n.” Eddie shows you off like he’s Vanna White and you’re the big prize they could win if they guess the puzzle right. “Y/n these are the guys. Obviously you know Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. But here’s Jeff, Gareth, and Adam.” He points to each one as he introduces them.
“Hi!” You wave genuinely excited to meet them all. They were just as responsible for making your chosen family feel accepted as Eddie was. They wave back with greetings and Eddie pulls out his seat at the head of the table for you to sit pushing it in before grabbing a spare seat from another table and pulling it up next to you. “It’s nice to meet you guys, Dustin absolutely raves about how cool you all are.” The boy in question groans and slams his head on the table.
Mike hides his jealousy from that sentence with laughter at his friend's embarrassment. The way you say it, it’s like you’re Dustin’s sister instead of his own. Like you talk more with his friends than you do him and for the first time it’s like he realizes that maybe you do. You’re constantly driving them to and from school while he goes with Nancy and he’s even seen Lucas search you out in the halls to tell you something before. Hell you probably even talk to Will more than you talk to him with your at least biweekly calls to them all in California.
Sure Mike talks to you at home but you’re barely there anymore and when you are and ask him if he wants to do anything he always has something else to do that he thinks is more important. He finds himself nostalgic for when he was younger and you would do everything with him because Nancy didn’t want anything to do with him and his mom was too busy with newborn Holly. You were his best friend for a while and now everything has changed and Mike can’t help but wonder why and when he let you become like a stranger in his life.
“Can’t say that’s true, we’re a bunch of losers. Gareth.” He holds his hand out for you to shake and Eddie rolls his eyes into the back of his head when he catches onto the flirty lilt to his voice.
“Keep it in your pants Emerson. I’m sure Mike wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with his sister.”
“Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t.” Mike scoffs out keeping his eyes on Eddie the whole time he speaks hoping it gets his point across. He doesn’t pay any attention to him though he’s too busy watching the way your eyes crinkle as you laugh.
“Y/n!” You could’ve gotten whiplash from how fast you whipped your head around to look at Nancy barrelling towards you. This was certainly new, normally she just acts like she has no idea who you are.
“Nancy?”
“Thank God I caught you. Are you alright? Where’d you go last night? I called Steve but he said you weren’t there. And Mike said you probably didn’t go to Dustin’s because you said you still had to pick him up in the morning.”
“You called Steve?”
“Well yeah, I always call Steve when you get kicked out to make sure you got there okay.”
“Oh, Nancy pants, you do care.”
“So where did you go?” Her face flushes a light pink at the nickname she’s forbidden you from saying anymore and she pulls you to the wall to not be in the way of other students as she interrogates you.
“I-”
“There you are darlin.” Eddie interrupts you digging around in his pocket as he approaches the two of you. “Wanted to give you this.” He takes your hand and shoves a key into your palm. “Wayne’ll be at work and there’s Hellfire tonight, wanted to make sure you’d be able to get into the trailer.” Nancy’s eyes go wide and her jaw almost drops at his words.
“Thanks Angel Eyes but I’ll be at work until at least eight. I’ll probably end up there a little longer to close it up so you should really keep this on you so you’re not locked out of your own home.” You try to give it back to him but he shakes his head and crosses his arms in front of himself.
“Nope, if Hellfire gets out before you’re done with work I’ll just go bug you there. Besides it took me forever to get that off my keychain. I'm not putting it back on so soon.”
“Fine.” You sigh, deciding it wasn’t worth fighting him about this and put the key in your own pocket.
“Great, I’ll see you later!” He beams at you for another minute before he leaves to make his way to the drama room.
“You’re staying with Eddie? You don’t even know him!” Nancy’s eyes are wide with this new information.
“I know him, we have some classes together and Dustin and Lucas talk about him all the time.” You shrug while defending yourself. “Besides I didn’t want to bother Dustin with showing up on his doorstep that late or bother Steve with it again.”
“Steve basically adores you though.”
“Steve doesn’t adore me.” You wave the statement off and look towards the entrance of the school watching the sea of students make their way out of the building.
“Are you kidding me? Of course he does, you should’ve heard how worried he was when I told him you were kicked out again.”
“Okay. Now as confused as I am about what all this was about, I love you and I appreciate you asking if I’m okay so much but I gotta go. Max is probably waiting for me at the car by now and I don’t want to keep her waiting too long. I’ll uh, see you around I guess.” You scratch the back of your neck not sure how to say goodbye to her even though she’s your own sister. Sure you guys were close when you were little but after you and your dad started to fight all the time, around like seventh grade for you, she started to want nothing to do with you it seemed. She’s even called you the problem after certain fights. Which you don’t hold against her because she was still young and not even aware of what the fights were about yet.
“So um, bye!” You smile and wave before rushing down the hall to the exit leaving Nancy behind.
“You.” Steve scans the shop searching for you before he speaks eyes narrowed and finger pointed your way.
“Me?” You point to yourself in your spot on the floor where you’re stocking the cassettes confused as to why he sounds like he’s about to scold you like a mother would a child hand half in the cookie jar. He’s definitely talking to you though, there’s no one else in the store.
“Yes you.” He makes his way through the store until he’s standing over you, most of his weight on one leg and his hands on his hips.
“Why me?”
“You got kicked out again last night.” He folds his arms across his chest while you go back to paying attention to the tapes on the shelf in front of you.
“And?” His worry he seems to have at it is genuine you know that, he’s proved enough times that he cares enough about you to care about when this happens or something happens to make you upset.
Little do you know that Steve’s one of the only people who actually notices how poorly you’re treated by your father and sometimes by the people around you. He got into a few little fights with Nancy about it when they were dating, always telling her that she should talk to you more and stop acting like you’re a pain to be around. He’s even thought about pulling Mike to the side to tell him to appreciate you more. After you met Robin and the two of you started having a small friendship Steve warned her that if she ever pulled something on you like Barb or past friends did he’d drop her so fast even if she’s his best friend. Because even though you’re older than him he’s brought it on himself to take up the protector role that an older brother probably would. You’re too stuck in your head and insecurity that people don’t actually like you as much as it seems to notice though.
“And you didn’t come to my house and you didn’t go to Dustin’s or even Robin’s. So where’d you go hmm? And you better not tell me you slept in your car again.” You had done that the first time you got kicked out and when Steve found out he made sure you knew there was always room at his place for if it happened again.
“I didn’t sleep in my car. I stayed with a friend.”
“What friend?”
“My new friend Eddie, he’s cool. Dustin and the gang like him too so I don’t have to worry about him being a creep.” You shrug and shove the rest of the copies of Wham’s album Make It Big in place before grabbing the box that’s now empty and getting up to head towards the front desk.
“You don’t mean Eddie Munson?” Steve sputters out lagging behind you.
“The very same.”
“What is it about him that has you all drawn like sheep to the flock?”
“Dunno, he's just nice I guess, I feel comfortable around him and so do the kids. What are you doing here anyway, shouldn’t you be closing up Family Video tonight with Robin?”
“We weren’t busy so I popped out to check on you. Where are you staying tonight?”
“I’ll still be at Eddie’s. You should get back to work in case it does get busy because Robin will just close and blame you again when the two of you get in trouble for it.” You place the empty box on the ground and grab the one filled with the records you have to stock up. You really should be doing stock after closing but you never saw the point in not just doing it during your last hour when almost no one comes in. You’d rather do stock than sit there and do nothing, that is when you don’t have school work you should be doing and you don’t feel like being in a rush to get home.
“It’s Family Video how busy can it be?” He thinks about it for a second while you watch the gears in his head turn. “You might have a point though, I don’t need Robs throwing me under the bus again.”
“Exactly.” You shoot him a finger gun while resting the box on your hip.
“I’ll see you then Y/n, you’re still coming to that movie night Robin’s been planning next weekend right?”
“Course I am I got off work and everything for it, King.” Steve’s nickname, as boring as it is, is more inspired by Stephen King, his books being one of the first things the two of you bonded over, than it is his old King Steve title he had.
“Alright, bye Y/n!” He pulls you into a quick side hug, careful of the box of records before heading out of the shop.
Meanwhile Eddie’s dropping the kids off starting with Lucas and Mike because Dustin insisted on being dropped off last.
“So what’s going on with you and my sister?” Eddie chokes on his own spit at Mike’s sudden words.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you like her or something?” Mike leans between the two front seats, eyes narrowed at his older friend.
“What?! Why would you think that?” Eddie nearly crashes the car at his shock of being asked that.
“You’re being really nice to her.”
“Yeah, believe it or not Wheeler, I'm a nice guy.”
“She’s staying at your place until further notice.”
“I’m just trying to help a friend out no matter how new they are.”
“You’ve been constantly giving her goo goo eyes.”
“Oh look, it's your stop. You two out so I can get Dustin home.” Eddie stops in front of Lucas’s house so quickly it would’ve sent Mike flying into the stereo if Eddie hadn’t put his arm out to stop him. He normally would’ve just pulled in front of Mike’s house first and turned around before dropping Lucas off but he’s honestly just trying to dodge all of Mike’s questions.
“We’re not done with this.”
“Well we are for now. Bye Lucas.”
“See ya Eddie!” Lucas salutes him before climbing out of the van. Mike glares at Eddie a minute longer before following him grumbling to himself. Eddie’s quick to drive off after seeing Mike get to his porch.
“Alright Dustin, when did Wheeler learn to be slightly nerve wracking?” Dustin shrugs and leans back in his seat.
“He just gets like that. Should’ve seen him when Steve started getting closer with her after him and Nancy broke up. Mike thought since he lost one sister he was just gonna go for the other one.”
“Was he?” Eddie’s grip on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly that he doesn’t even notice it.
“Nah, he’s got more like an older brother vibe to their friendship.” Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“But he’s younger than her?”
“Ya but it’s all in how he acts with her and with things regarding her.” Eddie rolls to a stop in front of Dustin's house and he opens the door pausing before getting out to turn back towards his friend. “It does seem like you like her though Eddie. And unlike Mike I think the two of you would be good for each other.” And with that he gets out slamming the door and rushing up to his front door.
Eddie shakes his head at his words, a small smile forming on his face as he pulls away and starts making his way to the music store since there’s still twenty minutes till you close.
“Hey there Angel Eyes! We got more Abba in today if you wanna see if we have any you don’t.” And as you tease him with a smile that makes him feel like it’s just for him Eddie can't help but wonder if his young friends are right about him starting to like you.
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#Eddie munson x wheeler!reader#eddie munson#eddie x reader#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#stranger things x reader
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se me olvida q nos podemos hablar en español... IGUAL, COMO ESTUVO EL CONCIERTO !!! Detalles... fotos .. videos POR FAVOR 😭😭😭 review
AHHH SI ES CIERTO! wowww que hermoso poder hablar en español también amo <3 but i'll just post this in english so everyone can understand it. honestly? it was hands down the best kpop concert i've been to hfksjdkkf (others i've seen were blackpink, nct 127 and loona) so it might not be a lot but holy shit. the crowd went APESHIT it was by far the best crowd for me and i think the best they have seen cause they said it too hfkdjfkg 😭 they sold out the venue and you could tell it was packed cause the energy was OFF THE WALLS....
so first the good things
in terms of their performance: man aespa have surely worked hard to beat the no stage presence allegations. i think you could really tell they've been on tour since the beginning of this year cause they have improved SOOO MUCH. they have developed a lot of crowd control skills and they truly interacted with us in there. giselle specially is a MASTER at interaction and i think the group benefits a lot from her
the vocals were great cause the backing track wasn't too loud and they did handheld mics for most of the setlist. ningning was working OVERTIME with the adlibs. winter did extended high notes for everything. they were so confident in their vocals it was amazing to see. there were no in-ear or sound issues as far as i could tell and the venue while not being the best acoustic wise it didn't mess with the experience. i do wanna say i'm sad there was no live band :( everything was just a recorded track
lastly PRODUCTION. oh man. OHHH MAN. this tour has a BUDGET cause the visuals were fucking lit 🔥 the whole stage setup was so good and the props were there, winter with the electric guitar is a HIGH point in this. in my experience there arent a lot of kpop groups that put so much thought into their design like this and aespa were milking tf out of the cybercore and kwangya concept cause the vcrs and screens were giving blade runner. i was mesmerized by the visuals in the screens
for the not so great things... I think their costume design was lacking so much 😭 there weren't a lot of costume changes and the outfits were pretty basic. they lacked cohesiveness and even for their solos it did feel like they just threw on whatever. SM insists on putting them in ugly ass school uniforms for like the entire last part of the set. and they use the shortest fucking skirt for ningning it makes me nauseous.
another weak point was the dancing. it simply didn't stand out as much as the rest of the stuff i mentioned but tbh the girls still put on a good show. they did full choreo for their biggest songs and the backup dancers helped elevate it a lot but a lot of the bsides didn't have or needed choreo you know? like im content with seeing them sing a great song rather than have them jump around the stage trying to do a bunch of choreo we don't even know. the moves were kinda meh and i get it cause they're bsides but yeah just stick to the full choreo for the title tracks.
but speaking of dancing, karina was SOOO good her solo was insane and she has truly improved so much as a main dancer! ningning blew us all out with her stuff too ngl that girl is the best dancer in the group after karina. bonus points for giselle as well cause she has definitely put in the work to become a better dancer and i appreciate how much she has improved her stage presence.
ok this got too long already hkdjdkkfg so i'll just leave some pics i took here! and ill go through my camera roll to see what's good enough to post later <3
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hi comet!!!
i hope you’ve been well, I just had a rip-roaring good time
i convinced my sibling to go to a local show with me. it was supposed to be a band we both love but they had to last minute postpone so it ended up being four local groups. holy shit did they bring the house down. props to them for pulling together a show on such short notice
this show was my birthday present to myself and i’m totally buzzing over it. live music is one of the major things i live for, i genuinely think i would waste away without it.
the other fun part about tonight is that my sibling is thinking that the two of us should start jamming. maybe form a band kinda deal. i learned tonight that i can do a bit of scream vocals, so i’m kinda down to explore my voice more with my sib.
and i finally get a weekend off work! i haven’t had a day off in a month so i’m super pumped to have a couple days all for me!
until next time- 🦷🦷🦷
Hii!
That sounds so awesome!
I love local shows so much (honestly any show, I also just really love live music). Shows like that are so much fun. I'm glad you had a blast even though you didn't get to see the band you expected/wanted to.
I hope you and your sibling do start jamming together! Definitely good to explore your voice and work on some stuff with them, that could be really fun, and you never know where it might lead!
♥♥♥
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2003
originally posted 8/20/20
We've officially left the era of semifinals! Just one show per year from here on out - I'm honestly so excited lol it's much easier on my brain.
Iceland
What a strong opener! I really like this song, it has good lyrics and a great build to it, and I think Birgitta also has a really nice voice that's well suited for this style. The staging was also really well done, especially the light cues - I liked how they connected to the lyrics. Overall I'm really impressed by this.
Austria
Uhh.. okay, Austria, sure. This is very much kids' music, maybe even on purpose? Apparently this guy is a comedian but this doesn't feel like as much of a joke entry as it feels in the vein of Aarzemnieki if you know what I mean. It's okay though. Better a joke entry than a genuinely bad song.
Ireland
Great vocals here, almost studio quality. I respect this one. The verses are really good, but the chorus isn't as much my thing. Nevertheless, though, the performance works for the song. I guess I'm a little confused at this not coming top ten. I don't like it better than Iceland, but I respect that this is pretty good.
Turkey
I'm actually not a huge fan of this. The verses are structured really weird and Sertab doesn't sound like she's comfortable in her range for much of the song. The background singers weren't super in tune either and I guess I'm uncertain of the point of the dress with the long long ribbons - all the stage outfits here were kinda ugly, actually.
Malta
The song itself is pretty good, but I just can't get over how bad Lynn sounds here. She's off-key and her voice sounds strained and nasal. Not for me. Also, the ending is really abrupt. I think those are the only issues I have overall with this performance, though.
Bosnia & Herzegovina
This is certainly... dramatic. It's dramatic to the point of being over the top, and tbh I don't like it. Mija also goes a little off key in parts, and her vocal technique is overall really shouty. The English lyrics were also kind of weird here. I do like the way the backing singers were used though - best part of the whole performance imo, so props to them.
Portugal
Whoa. I was not expecting much from this, but I think this might be one of my favorite Portuguese entries ever, full stop. It's a really solid ballad, and I love Rita's low-toned voice - and the voice is a great match for the song. Staging was also really lovely - I guess I'm not the biggest fan of the dress but she makes it work and that was really my only problem with this performance.
Croatia
Not stellar. The chorus is pretty good and I liked the dance routine, but Claudia doesn't sound great here - her voice is really similar to that of the Bosnian entrant's, actually. Also, those costumes. This should have been at least on the shortlist for the Barbara Dex award.
Cyprus
I can understand how this placed 20th. Vocals are weak and the song doesn't really hold up against the others. It's kind of fun though. It's not a great song but it's one I can enjoy in the moment.
Germany
This is one of Ralph Siegel's better entries. I like the energy in it, and the parts that the backing singers have are good - once again, they're stealing the show. The staging and styling SUCKS, though, it's so hard to look at and Lou's voice is equally hard to listen to. It's definitely the kind of song that needs someone younger.
Russia
I do so appreciate how obvious it is that these two were in lesbians together at the time. Like, apparently the EBU had a backup video to play in case they kissed on stage. They didn't, but that tension... god. I love this song in studio, but live it just feels unfinished. The outfits, the lighting, the cuts to the band - and the fact that the girls aren't in tune with each other on the choruses.
Spain
She loses some points from me for the white dreads, first of all. And Dime isn't actually that impressive of a song. It's enjoyable, but next to some of the other entries it's not that great. Maybe this just wasn't the right year for it, I don't know.
Israel
This entry is just so much fun. I like the swing instrumental here, Lior has a voice and presence that works, and I find the costume changes so clever. It's a little tacky, maybe, but I like it!
Netherlands
She's very energetic and her voice is strong and stable throughout. Song's also pretty good. It sounds very nostalgic, almost, like the chorus is really similar to a song I know or even as if this is a song I listened to as a kid. (For context, it's entirely possible - I'm only 19).
United Kingdom
Ooh, yeah, I can totally see how this got last. The vocals are just so bad. They're so off key and the song is then unlistenable.
Ukraine
This isn't bad for a debut? Like, it could have been way worse. I wish they hadn't done the "beginning is way different from the rest of the song" thing. Good energy and decent vocals, and the song carries through pretty well. There were a couple moments where I (and I think also the audience!) thought the song was ending when it wasn't, so that was disconcerting.
Greece
I'm pretty bored by this. By the actual song itself, I mean, because between Mando's ultra-high note and her super revealing dress there was a lot that was trying to get my attention onstage. I don't think this came together well, but it's still not bad.
Norway
An appropriately moving ballad. Jostein's voice isn't my favorite, it feels kind of unrefined, but I really enjoy everything else that's happening here. Norway never disappoints.
France
This one is really good! Louisa has a great voice and the song is pretty, and her styling is also pretty good... except for her hair. God, I kept getting distracted by her hair, it was in her face and kind of a mess for most of the song and honestly that might keep the song from winning for me... like it was just such a distraction.
Poland
This is miles better than their 2006 entry, that's for sure. The song is pretty and I think the message of, like, "from the sky you see no borders" is kind of nice. There is an issue in presentation here, though. The guy's hot pink hair and the weird clothes on both of them make this hard for me to take seriously.
Latvia
The title of this song made me expect a lot less from it. As it is, it's pretty decent. The three singers' voices go really well together.
Belgium
This 100% deserved its second place. I've never really heard the verses before - at this point, it's very rare for me to have heard the entries in full, let alone ever, before watching - and they're just hypnotic.
Estonia
Personally, I think that 2003 is a little early for a song about 80s nostalgia. But you do you, Ruffus. I'm somewhat charmed by this song - it's not quality music by any means but there's something likable about it.
Romania
This sure is something. The costume changes are pretty cool here, even if they are a direct descendant of Marie N's version. The song, though, is weird. Nicola has a strange voice - which suits the song perfectly fine, I just get some weird vibes! The melody and the backbeat and everything just kind of mix together and what we get is eclectic as hell.
Sweden
Nice and hype, typical Swedish entry from this era. I think I've heard this chorus too many times to truly appreciate it, but Jessica and Magnus blend really well together and I think that the staging/styling was really good here.
Slovenia
It's okay. I like the harmonies here. But it feels kind of frantic and I'm not sure I like Karmen's stage presence.
My top 26
Portugal
Iceland
Belgium
France
Ireland
Norway
Latvia
Sweden
Israel
Germany
Netherlands
Estonia
Malta
Croatia
Romania
Spain
Greece
Ukraine
Slovenia
Cyprus
Russia
Turkey
Poland
Bosnia & Herzegovina
Austria
United Kingdom
Voting/intervals
Marie and Renars: Lys Assia, how was the first Eurovision?
Lys Assia: It was great, I won. More importantly, come visit Cyprus!
Marie and Renars: ...ok bye Lys
I think that the Bosnian spokeswoman handled the voting screwup really well? It was really funny how, after Renars confirmed that the scoreboard had reset, she gave her little intro again and the audience just lost it. That was great.
Sertab in the green room is so cute, she's so excited...
This contest was so close? When Marie and Renars said that only two countries were left with Belgium, Turkey, and Russia all so close I was shocked! Belgium was in the lead right until the end!
Also the height difference between Sertab and Marie I'm DYING.
Thoughts after watching
First off, I think Renars and Marie did an awesome job as hosts. They had a couple funny gags but mostly kept it together and I really liked that, and they definitely played off each other really well.
I also really loved the claymation in the show, it made it really cute! And I enjoyed how the postcards centered the artists... I think the last time they really do that is in 2013?
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Eurovision Semifinal 2
Hmm basket of kittens. Anyway, tonight I'm rooting for Serbia, Sweden, Czech Republic.
The hosts are dressed as the flag of Germany.
Finland, The Rasmus, "Jezebel" – Very restrained start. Oh wait. Never mind, that's just how he sings.
Israel, Michael Ben David, "I.M" – Plenty of attitude. The runway effect is clear. Lighting seems a bit dark? Fun dance break. A little exhausting.
Serbia, Konstrakta, "In Corpore Sano" – Onscreen lyrics look oddly like closed captioning, but I think it works for this song because it’s sort of jarring and makes you question what is going on. Loved hearing the entire audience clap along. The beat and her voice are relentless and mesmerizing.
Azerbaijan, Nadir Rustamli, "Fade to Black" – Honestly, I'm still hearing “in corpore sano, in corpore sano” echoing in my mind. It's very competent but after Israel and Serbia it seems to lack personality.
Georgia, Circus Mircus, "Lock Me In" – They're a band, but weird. I do like that one shifty eye that keeps showing up, as well as turning the stage into a giant creepy face. With all the strangeness and odd projections swirling around the stage, the band themselves stayed relatively static. It makes the performance feel like controlled (not chaotic) madness.
Malta, Emma Muscat, "I Am What I Am" – Unexpectedly wobbly on the vocals. I wonder if all the climbing up and down and running around was an issue? It seemed a bit too choreographed and her notes were consistently going a bit flat.
San Marino, Achille Lauro, "Stripper" – The sparkly bodysuit suits him. The mechanical bull is an interesting stage prop but ultimately less interesting than watching him walk around.
Mika somehow sounds very natural trying to fill time while still calling a lot of attention to exactly what he is doing.
Australia, Sheldon Riley, "Not The Same" – The lighting is full of drama. He has a very good voice and I enjoyed the staging but when he starts repeating "not the same" I kind of tune out.
Cyprus, Andromache, "Ela" – A performance that makes good use of the water feature. Again vocally wobbly and only partly on purpose I think. The last note was not bad sounding, yet quite off.
Ireland, Brooke, "That's Rich" – Did the intro graphic get lost? Actually found her postcard moderately interesting through sheer personality. Improved in every aspect compared to the national final. The song has been growing on me.
North Macedonia, Andrea, "Circles" – I was worried that the low notes would be an issue, but she's got the singing down and is very passionate. This presentation uses the side panels, which so far have not looked particularly well-integrated into the visuals when they have been noticeable. I wonder what the intent of having those was in the stage design. I’m not that into the song, but good performance.
Estonia, Stefan, "Hope" – This reminds me of Victor Crone, though I would give Stefan the edge in song, singing, and styling.
Wonder what’s going on that made the audience cheer while Mika did this "sound of beauty" interlude?
Romania, WRS, "Llámame" – Dancing is much more confident than it was at the national final. Still no attempt at telling the story implied in the song.
Poland, Ochman, "River" – The drippy TV graphics are distracting, and the earthquake and lightning graphics even more so. I read it as awkward attempt to dress up a song that is more voice than substance.
Montenegro, Vladana, "Breathe" – What was the random audience shot? Was it meant to be focused on her the whole time? Judging from the bit at the end, I think I might have enjoyed this song more when I didn't understand the lyrics.
Belgium, Jérémie Makiese, "Miss You" – Oddly breathless in places. He sounds good, but often seems to be singing to himself more than singing to a live or TV audience.
Sweden, Cornelia Jakobs, "Hold Me Closer" – Her green circle looks very nice today. Is the audience singing along or am I imagining it? Holy crap that light effect going into the last chorus. Lovely silhouette shot at the end. That was really good. Just a few staging changes from Melodifestivalen, which worked really well. Clear thought and intent in the camera work; they even managed to create an illusion of her interacting with the audience despite the actual distance that is obvious in subsequent shots.
Czech Republic, We Are Domi, "Lights Off" – Lights, lights everywhere. That was a striking glory note camera shot with the arena behind her. That glimpse of her expression afterward was like "Hell yeah!" Good way to close out.
Michael Ben David in his monochrome outfit fits in well standing with the hosts.
Was wondering who would bring the Ukrainian flags today; that it was Georgia is not a huge surprise.
Why are they singing "People Have the Power"?
Hey, is the "sun" moving very slowly during "Grande Amore"? It is. Is that one ring supposed to be in that position? Unclear.
The contrast between "I'm going to go eat pasta carbonara" Chanel and "booty hypnotic" Chanel is startling.
The countries I was rooting for made the final, though I would have liked for Georgia and Ireland to go through as well.
Even so, my entire top ten (in fact my top 11) are in the final. This is such an odd feeling; I have been watching Eurovision since 2007 and this has never happened.
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I haven't seen this done and it might be too niche, but I don't care and I want to do it so I am.
Burlesque Ask Game!
What's your stage name? What does it mean?
Lizzie Blaze. My middle name is Elizabeth and my partner's stage name ends with Blaze as well (based on his native name, Blazing Path) so I stole it lmao.
When did you make your debut?
October of 2019! I can't believe I'm headed up on five years doing this :')
Why do you do it?
For the rush, honestly. I grew up loving burlesque and old school pin up and always wanted to try it. It's such a heady, powerful feeling to command a stage. Also for all the shy girls who come up to me after my shows!! They're the best and like my reason to live!!!
Do you ever get stage fright?
I do! Nearly five years in and I still wonder what the fuck I'm doing every time I get on stage.
What's your pre-show ritual?
Panic, run through everything in my head, overthink, and if my sweet angel of a con bestie is there, get fed drinks 😭
First routine?
This is so fucking basic and everyone does this, but Jessica Rabbit 🥲
Last routine?
The last one I did was Miss Frizzle to Hot For Teacher. I loved it, the audience loved it, but my partner did not and kinda got upset with me over it (I went too far, in his opinion. He's a cishet man, so we've grappled with jealousy and internalized toxic masculinity. We both prefer I perform to a queer audience bc he's okay with me interacting with women and I prefer that anyway, but it's not always possible. We've worked it out though). Had a mini crisis and took a brief hiatus after that, but I'm back in it now.
Favorite routine?
That's such a toss up! I think either my Vegas showgirl inspired Vulpix routine to a custom mix of Bumps & Grinds by Sonny Lester and Fast Girls by Atom Smith, or my gay ass Daphne Blake routine to Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett (featuring Velma's sweater).
Dream routine?
God what I wouldn't give you have a femme partner to do gay routines with. I would LOVE to do a Loki and Mobius to Casual Affair by P!atD (I already have it choreographed) or a deeply dramatic and skillful Freddy and Nancy routine to the VCTRYS cover of Come To My Window. I also want to do a badass showgirl Oogie Boogie with a burlap blacklight costume that has a big ass bustle, break away corset with bugs, snake eye dice pasties, and a fuck all huge witch hat that has a roulette table underneath.
Favorite costume?
Definitely my Vulpix. I've already said it so much but it's just so showgirl! It's a gold corset, puff sleeve wrap top, open front bustle skirt, boa "tail", gold gloves, black stockings, red garter, and red strappy lingerie. After the aforementioned crisis though, I threw half of it away and I hate myself for it
Favorite prop?
I don't typically use props, but we have this magic act cane that like pops out (I'm so bad at explaining things jfc) that's super fun
Favorite reveal?
When I did a Grinch routine a while back, I had a pair of panties that said "I kissed Santa" 😈
Plain pasties or tassels?
I am not skilled with tassels 🥲
Upbeat or slow burn?
Usually I go for upbeat! But I do love a good slow burn sometimes
What's your style?
Definitely neo-burlesque, because I primarily do cosplay burlesque. But I love adding classic influence with big band jazz and sparkly outfits and classic inspired moves
Do you still/did you ever kitten?
I actually skipped that step in my burlesque journey? But I host and produce now, so I'll happily jump up and kitten for my cast whenever needed
Inspirations?
I really love Lavendelle, Ginger Valentine, and the Les Vixens troupe!
Best performer you know personally?
Her name is Peachy Sweets and she's the biggest sweetheart and worthy of so much love, she's just the best 🥲💖
Do you have a stage mom? Are you a stage mom?
I don't have one, but I've dragged so many people into my world and now I love playing stage mom behind the scenes!
Plug your next show! (If you're comfy sharing location based details)
I don't have specifics for the next one yet, but I run the burlesque shows at my local comic con and can always be found there!
#burlesque#cabaret#performers#burlesque dancers#idk what else to tag this with#but share with your burly pals!!#I'd really love to see y'all's answers!!!
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Day 2: Breeding Kink
Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.
Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink
Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober
Moonlight Through Colored Leaves
When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.
You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.
The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.
You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.
“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”
“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”
“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”
You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.
You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.
She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”
You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.
“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.
You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.
“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”
You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.
“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.
“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.
She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.
“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”
Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.
You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.
She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.
“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.
“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.
You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”
He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.
You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.
He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”
You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”
He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”
You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.
The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.
You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.
Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.
You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.
Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?
You fell asleep thinking about it.
~
You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.
Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”
She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.
Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.
Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”
You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”
He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.
Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”
Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”
You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.
By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.
As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.
“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.
He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.
You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.
“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.
You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”
She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”
Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”
“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.
You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.
“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.
“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”
“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”
You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”
You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”
He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”
You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.
You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.
“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”
Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.
You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.
His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”
You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”
His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”
You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”
He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”
Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.
“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”
“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”
When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.
You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?
~
The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.
They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.
Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.
“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.
“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”
Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”
“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.
You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.
It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.
“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”
You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”
Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.
He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”
You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.
He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”
You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”
You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”
He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”
Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”
He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”
You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”
He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”
You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”
He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”
You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.
An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”
You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.
He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”
You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”
He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.
Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.
It was only a matter of time.
~
Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.
The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.
And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?
You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.
Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”
She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.
In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.
It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.
The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”
Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.
“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”
You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.
“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”
The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”
Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.
Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.
The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.
Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.
Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.
With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.
The world spun into crimson.
~
Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.
Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”
Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”
“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”
It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—
“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”
Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.
Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.
Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”
Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.
But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.
With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.
He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.
Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-“ His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.
“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”
You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—
“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”
Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?
“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.
He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”
Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.
Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.
“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“
You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.
You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.
But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.
“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”
You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.
The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.
Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.
The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.
You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.
Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.
“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—
He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”
And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.
“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“
You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.
Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.
You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.
With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.
“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.
His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.
“May I?” He tapped your shirt.
You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.
You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.
“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”
You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.
You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.
“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”
You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.
His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”
You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.
“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”
With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.
Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.
Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.
“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”
Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.
He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.
“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.
“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”
He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.
A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.
“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”
The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.
And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.
Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”
A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.
“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.
You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.
His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.
“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”
You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”
Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.
#elysiadjarinkinktober#elysiadjarin#x reader#my writing#mywriting#nsft#exophilia#terato#monsterfucker#xyou#smut#kinktober
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Forever
*gif is not mine*
Note - this is for @buckyownsmylife 's 2k celebration and birthday. Congrats and happy birthday! I've never done a breeding kink so it's very new to me but I hope you like it.
Dividers by @whimsicalrogers
Summary - You've been in a secret relationship with Steve for two years. What happens when he tells you he wants to be with you forever?
Warnings - 18+ ONLY PLEASE, smut, breeding kink, sir kink, cum play, anal play, d/s relationship, deepthroating, boss/employee relationship, loosely edited.
Pairing - CEO!Steve Rogers x reader
Word count - 2.6k
You watched him carefully, on the edge of your seat to see how he’d react, although you had a pretty good idea of what he’d say.
“Mm,” Steve made a face, scrunching his nose up, “What is this?”
“Why, it’s pumpkin spiced latte!” you gushed, “Starbucks most popular drink,” trying to hold in a giggle to not give away your little scheme of annoying him.
“I--that’s not my drink, doll,” he frowned.
“Yes! I remember, your drink is iced black coffee, no sugar or cream. I’ve been working for you for two years, sir, it'll be pretty hard to forget.”
“Then why did you get--whatever this is?” he put the cup on his desk, too disgusted to even hold it in his hand.
“I thought you’d like to try something new! Be a bit more adventurous!”
It’ll be pretty hard to get your sir to be anything like that. He has always been so uptight and set in his ways, he had a rigid routine, a clean and proper house which was frankly kinda boring looking which is why you refused to live with him. He had asked you so many times. But you always refused. There’s no way you could live in a house that looked like it was taken out of a magazine catalogue. Where you’d be afraid to even eat anything on or near his expensive and spotless furniture. You’d probably murder him in a month or so.
But maybe he can be more open to other possibilities, he was with you, he should adopt maybe a little bit of your personality as you had done his.
“I’ve got all the adventure right here,” he smiled, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, putting his cheek on the softness of your stomach.
“Hm, your next meetings in thirty minutes,” you hummed as you felt his fingers massage your hips, tempted to run your hands through his golden hair but not wanting to mess it up or make him look sloppy for his important meeting.
“Well, princess, I didn’t have my coffee so now my days off to a bad start. How will I sit through a meeting with Tony Stark? It’s impossible to keep up with that man.
“Um...” you bit your lip, “I didn’t really think of that... maybe I’ll go run and get you a new one right now!”
He chuckled, shaking his head at your naiveté, you were too innocent for you own good, even after being with him and doing the most depraved of things for so long.
He leant back in his chair, spreading his legs, “There is a way you can make it up to me and help me clear my mind.”
You blinked for a moment trying to process his words, “Oh,” you let out when you realised what he meant. “I’m, but...”
“What?”
“My implants expired. I need to get a new one, I’ve got an appoint in two days and I don’t want to take a chance...” you trailed off. There was no way you’d make him come in a condom or anywhere that wasn’t inside you either. So sex was off the table.
“Doll, you need to use that brain of yours sometimes, I know you can, you’re so much more than a pretty face,” he taunted you.
His harsh words really shouldn’t make your panties wet, so much so that you could feel slick running down your thigh but they did.
“You act as if you’ve got just the one hole,” he gave you a faux pout, a hand trailing up your thigh, up your skirt and past your stockings, “I can just use your mouth
....or your ass.”
“What? My ass?” you jumped, wanting to get away from him but he firmly held onto your hip.
You were well aware of his unhealthy obsession with your ass. He had ate it and fingered it, made you wear all sorts and colors of butt plugs so many times, sometimes even in the office. But you absolutely refused to take his dick up your ass.
Nope. Never. Absolutely not. No. Nada.
No matter how many times he’d ask for it, you were not taking his nine inch dick up your poor small ass.
“Relax, doll,” he grinned, “Get to work. I don’t have much time,” he motioned to his bulge.
You simply nodded, quickly scrambling to get on your knees. There were many ways to have sex than the good ol' penis in vagina--even if that was your personal favorite. You could just blow him for the next couple of days and ride his face.
It was honestly ridiculous how you literally couldn’t go just two days without his dick.
You were using your hands to pump his throbbing shaft, giving light kitten licks to his tip to rile him up and to maybe get a taste of your favorite creamy goodies.
“No hands,” he commanded.
And you almost whined. He always does this! Ruins your fun by taking away control from you.
“Not fair!” you mumbled, putting your hands behind your back as he held onto your face to properly use it.
“I decide what’s fair and what’s not, princess,” he stated, pushing your head down on him.
Lifting his hips up, cooing when you choked on him, tears streaming down your face and ruining your sweet makeup.
He tutted, brushing them away with his thumb, “Look at me, doll,” he told you and like the subservient secretary that you were, you immediately looked up. “What the fuck do you spend thousands of dollars on Sephora for if you can’t even get waterproof makeup?”
You frowned in confusion because you didn’t he if he was seriously asking or not. Did he expect you to answer? With your mouth full of dick?”
It wasn’t surprising that he knew what you spent money on, he let you spend as much money as you wanted on anything you liked, but he insisted on having a joint account so you both could be transparent with each other.
He shushed you when you tried to speak--to explain that you’ll try a better mascara next time.
“You look so pretty with your face stuffed,” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied his load in your mouth.
You swallowed it all, knowing well and good by now that sir didn’tlike it when you let anything go to waste, “Thank you, sir,” you smiled up at him as you popped his dick out of your mouth. “I’ll go clean up.”
“You go do that. And remember to be at my place at seven sharp for dinner.”
“Yes sir,” you answered as you tried to stand on wobbly legs.
💍💍💍
He looked at the ring in the turquoise blue box, so bright and shiny and beautiful, so much like you. A big diamond with smaller ones on the band. He was sure you’ll love it. With the fortune that he had spent on it--you have to.
He just wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.
Or how he should go about asking you.
He couldn’t do it at a public restaurant. Even after all this time your relationship was still very much a secret. If people found out you’d have to stop being his secretary. And he wasn’t sure he could bear going so many hours everyday without you. YOU were his life now. How did he ever even live without you?
“Guess who,” he smiled when he heard your sweet voice, and felt your soft hands over his eyes, closing the box in his hand on instinct.
“Oh my god!” you squealed, removing your hands and jumping up and down in mirth, “Is that Tiffany’s?! Is it for me!”
All the screeching and the screaming made him flinch, he got up from his chair, turning around to see you, “Who else would it be for, doll?”
You squealed again, clapping your hands, you tried to snatch it away from him but he held it away, making you frown. You whined like a petulant child when he held it above his head, too tall for you to get your hands on.
“Sir!” you stomped your foot.“Please give it to me! What is it?” you jumped, hoping to snatch but with Steve being over a foot taller than you, it proved to be difficult.
“Uh... honey, you’ll have to wait a bit...” he had planned on cooking a five course meal for you and asking over candle lights, but you decided to show up over an hour early.
You stopped your ministrations, your lip wobbling, “Why...”
He sighed, his heart breaking at the mere thought of upsetting you, “You just have to, princess. Do you trust me?”
You nodded without a second thought. You most definitely did.
“Then you’ll just have to wait.”
💍💍💍
“Oo sir...,” you moaned, pushing on his wide shoulders when you felt his tip brushing against your pussy lips, “Not on birth control. Remember? Just... um.. just.”
He released your nipple from his mouth with a loud, obscene pop, his elbows on either side of your face as he looked down at you, “Just what, princess?”
“Just... um... well could you just eat my pussy tonight? I was so good in the morning to you!” And you missed having his talented tongue on you. Even though you were pretty sure he made you pass out by eating you out just two days ago.
“Of course I can, princess, you know I love the way your cunt tastes.”
Your cheeks heated up as he moved you onto your stomach, propping your hops up with a pillow.
Shivers running down your spine as he pressed kisses to it with his soft lips, over your butt before biting it and making you gasp.
“Love how I can pull all those sounds out of you,” Steve mused. There was no way in hell he could ever be with anyone who wasn’t you. He looked up at your empty hands, how he should have out a ring on it ages ago. He can’t let you go.
He wanted to do this forever. To be with you forever. What was he even waiting for?
“I want to give you my name,” he blurted.
You looked back at him over your shoulder, meeting your lust blown dark eyes, “Huh?” you asked, not sure that you heard him right.
“Mrs Rogers. It has a nice ring to it don’t you think?”
“Um, yes, maybe,” you immediately pushed your head into your pillow, too shy to even look at his beautiful face.
You had thought about being Mrs Steve Rogers the moment you met him. You loved the idea of being his wife and bride. You liked practicing your signature with his name, write your name along with his whenever you wanted to doodle or pass time. He had caught you more than once but never mentioned it.
Since he didn’t even want to tell others about your relationship, you doubted he’d want that kind of life long commitment.
Which was okay. For now.
It sucked but you were never going to beg him or even ask him to marry you.
“Are you just teasing me? If so... then that’s very cruel.”
You knew he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that but then why would he bring that up out of nowhere?
“You know I never lie, sweetheart,” he said, spreading your cheeks to reveal your glistening cunt and your small hole to him. “In fact I think I should prove it to you. Pump you full of my come tonight and knock you up.”
You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked back at him, stuttering over your words and gaping at him like a goldfish.
“What? Are you serious?”
“Hopefully I can we can conceive tonight itself.”
“I – uh – I don’t wanna be pregnant on my wedding day, I don’t want anyone thinking that it’s a shotgun wedding or that I’m trapping you,” you stammered.
“Then we can get married in a month, or even a week. I can’t wait anymore. I want a family with you, I want the whole world to know that you’re mine.” What better way to do that then to literally make you round with his child?
Before you he hadn’t really given having kids any thought. But now he knew he wanted to have a little you. He imagined having just one kid with you. He wasn’t too keen on sharing you so maybe one would be more than enough.
But he hadn’t thought about this aspect of it. The trying phase. How he'd get to keep you full of his cum till you got pregnant.
And how much more beautiful you’d look when you were round with his child, carrying his seed.
“Uh, okay,” you whispered you couldn’t really think straight, it was all happening so fast, but there was one thing you knew for sure--this was all that you ever wanted. To be married to the love of your life and to have his kids.
“What? You’ll have to speak up, doll.”
“Yes, sir, I want to have a baby with you. I want us to be married. Please make me yours,” your eyes watery as you bore yourself to him.
He smiled, moving up to press a kiss to your temple, “That’s all I needed to hear,” he promised.
Turning you to your back, “Wanna see your face when I come in your pussy, doll.” He told you.
Your face was heating up, with the way he was looking at you--as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen, you couldn’t bear to keep facing him but decided to look into his eyes, dig your nails into his biceps as he entered your channel.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, doll, will make me come, ugh,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours once he was completely sheathed in you. He wrapped you up in his strong arms, slowly rocking into you.
“Steve,” you whimpered, “wanna come...”
“I got you, baby,” he hushed you, pecking your lips before being his hand down between your bodies to roll your bud, which had you squeezing him even tighter.
Your entire body quivered as you clenched around his length, gushing all over him. Laying limp in his arms as he started fucking into you.
“You’ll make such an amazing mother... your titts,” he looked down at them, bouncing due to the force of his hips driving into yours. He latched his lips onto a hardened nipple, imagining them fuller and heavier.
“They’ll be even bigger, your hips too...” he whispered against your skin, his nails digging into your skin, sure to leave scars.
“Oh... you’d... you’d...” Make good dad too. He had all the qualities it took to be a good father. And where he lacked you flourished.
You sighed, feeling his warm cum fill you up, he stayed inside you, a leg between and under yours as he laid on his side.
Wiggling his hips to make sure his softening cock was as deep as it could be, so his spend would stay inside you. He collected some that leaked out of your joined sexes with his fingers, bringing it up to your mouth, “Don’t let it go to waste, sweetheart.” As you eagerly sucked his fingers clean.
“Hopefully it takes,” he said, drawing random patterns on your stomach.
“Mhm, guess I can cancel my appointment...” you murmured before drifting off to sleep.
💍💍💍
You yawned widely, sitting up and stretching out all your limbs, aching so painfully since Steve was hell bent on keeping you full of his seed, you could still feel it seeping out of you, he made love to you three more times before he finally let you get some shut eye.
Something sparkly caught your eye, you looked in at your hand and the diamond on it. Smiling in awe at just how lucky you were.
“Wonder if it worked,” you said to yourself, rubbing hand over your tummy.
Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.
Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤
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#steve rogers x reader#chris evans x reader#steve x reader#captain america x reader#steve rogers x you#marvel x reader#avengers x reader#chris evans x you#ceo!steve rogers x reader#ceo!steve rogers
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hi~ o/ for your follower event, I'd like to request *covers Gojo's eyes* Sukuna on either Office Coworkers, or Villains prompt; whichever tickles your fancy more. (look at what your AU!Sukuna has done to me, requesting him instead of Gojo... I am going to go put myself in time out now). Grats on 200 again ♥ and thanks for doing something for us on it! ♥ ♥
Aww, thanks for the request! Your secret is safe with me. 😂🤐 Gojo never has to know!
Warnings: swearing, alcohol, brief mention of losing parents/family, some spicy content
A/N: Sukuna and the reader work at a company that produces corporate events. (That was my last experience working in an office, so... 🤷🏼♀️)
• • •
Sukuna + Office Coworkers
It’s your first day at your new job, and you’re currently hiding in a bathroom stall, certain that one of your coworkers already hates you.
When you arrived that morning, your boss walked you over to your cubicle, with its dual monitors, already-worn-out swivel chair, and short walls. She waved at the man sitting on the opposite side, hunched over his laptop.
“Sukuna! I want you to meet Y/N.” As she rattled off bland introductions, you barely heard a word, focused instead on the sharp gaze now locked onto yours.
At first glance, he was handsome, with a lean build, strong jaw, and dusty pink hair that somehow suited him. You also noticed a few empty piercing holes in his ear lobes.
But that expression... Why did he look so annoyed? You hadn’t even said anything yet. Maybe he was in the middle of something important, you reasoned, repeating the same cheerful “nice to meet you” you had given everyone else... only to be met with a soft grunt.
And it only seemed to get worse as the day went on. While you were on the phone with IT, going through the process of setting up your database login, you looked up and found Sukuna staring at you over the top of your joined cubicles, his eyes slightly narrowed.
When you tried to print your new hire forms and the paper jammed, there he was, standing behind you with a bored look on his face, uttering a simple, “Move,” before popping open the front of the machine and quickly resolving the issue.
At lunchtime, you both ended up in the kitchen, just the two of you, him microwaving something and you half-heartedly poking at your salad. Before you could even attempt benign conversation, he punched a finger at the keypad, removed his meal, and strode away without even sparing you a glance.
You stood there, feeling painfully awkward, until you managed to finish eating and retreat to the bathroom to calm your nerves.
Maybe he’s just not a people person, you think, biting your lip as you finally emerge from the stall and face yourself in the mirror. But the least he could do is be nice, right? Geez... Does he treat all the new hires like this?
After a short mental pep talk, you nod at yourself and make your way back to your desk. As you sit down, you avoid eye contact altogether, instead directing your attention to your email inbox.
Nearly half an hour passes before Sukuna asks, “Do you drink?”
You blink up at him. “I’m sorry...?”
His head is resting on his hand as he stares at you. “Do you drink? We usually take newbies to the bar across the street on the first day.”
“Uh... Yeah. That sounds nice.”
He makes a noise of acknowledgement and looks away — until you ask, “Who’s ‘we’? Everyone?”
Sukuna shrugs. “Whoever wants to come, but it’s usually the office events committee. We organize that kind of stuff.”
“You’re on the events committee?” The idea of this man planning birthday parties and fun, team-building activities is honestly baffling.
He raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No offense, but you just... don’t seem like the type.”
“And what type do I seem like?”
Before you can think better of it, you blurt out, “Rude.” Panic quickly sets in as you watch his eyes widen. But then... he laughs. It’s a low chuckle, but even just seeing his stern mouth lift into a smile fills you with a strange sense of relief.
“You’re honest. I like it.” He leans back, crossing his arms behind his head. “Sorry if I’ve been a dick today. I’m a bartender on the weekends. Had to stay late last night and didn’t get much sleep.”
“Oh.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m sunshine and rainbows on a good day,” he warns, sitting forward in his chair.
“Duly noted. It’s just nice to know you don’t hate me.”
“Yet.” He’s still smiling, but it’s a wicked, crooked thing that has your face heating up.
• • •
Over the next few months, as your division preps for events season, you spend more time working closely with Sukuna. You learn that there’s not a huge difference between him on a good day and him on a running-on-caffeine-and-no-sleep day. He doesn’t talk much in meetings, but his facial expressions say plenty — though you’ve learned that he sometimes looks annoyed when he’s really just... fine. It’s confusing, to say the least.
Along with his piercings, he has at least a few tattoos on his forearms. It’s hard to tell how many, since he keeps them covered while at work. But you noticed them while having dinner with the team one night. He sat beside you, sleeves rolled to his elbows, holding a frozen margarita as he argued with someone from sales about marketing list sizes. You think about the mental image more often than you care to admit.
You’ve collected small details about him. He’s been tending bar for almost eight years, mostly as a side gig. He has a bad temper, which is why he was drawn to a marketing position — not nearly as many phone calls and general human interactions as you have to deal with in event production. He lives with his younger brother, Yuuji, who’s enrolled at the local university. They’ve been on their own since Sukuna was seventeen.
“He’s a good kid,” he says. You two are taking a brief coffee break in the kitchen, leaning against opposite counters. “Decent grades, working part time... He even has a girlfriend.”
“Wow.” You sip your latte, wondering how to ask the question on your mind without being painfully direct. But what comes out instead is, “Do you have a girlfriend?” because apparently your brain hates you.
Sukuna shakes his head. “Finding someone who can put up with my shit? Easier said than done.”
“Oh, come on. You’re not that bad.”
He smirks at you. “Is that so?”
You shrug and turn around, busying yourself with pouring a refill as an excuse to hide your flustered expression. “I mean... You’re still pretty annoying.”
It’s only when you feel him standing behind you that you realize he’s moved. “Don’t mind me,” he murmurs, reaching above you to grab a plastic lid from the nearest cupboard, his chest just grazing your back. You can’t help but freeze, your heartbeat erratic as you watch his shirt sleeve slide back, giving you a glimpse of the black bands of tattoos encircling his wrist.
When he pulls away, snapping the lid onto his paper cup, you glance at him over your shoulder and he meets your gaze with a knowing smile. “Annoying, huh? I’ll take it.” And with that, he walks away, leaving you scrambling to figure out what just happened.
• • •
“So... What do you think?” You swirl the ice in your glass and nudge Sukuna with your shoulder. “Your first live event.”
“I hate it.”
You’re both sitting at the hotel bar, having finally escaped the welcome reception upstairs. Although marketers don’t usually travel to your company’s events, a team member’s sudden illness left you in a lurch. Sukuna had begrudgingly agreed to accompany you to help with on-site prep and operations.
“Somehow I knew you’d say that.” You take a sip of your drink, already feeling pleasantly buzzed. “Is it the pushy attendees, the boring presentations, or the thrilling nightlife?” You gesture around at the exclusively 50+ clientele, along with the stuffily-ornate lobby full of classic artwork, antique carpeting, and gold everything.
“Yes.” You laugh, and when you look up at Sukuna, he’s staring at you thoughtfully. “But the company’s not too bad.”
“You should put that on the post-event survey.”
“Definitely ‘exceeds expectations.’” He drums his fingers against the bar top. “My room’s not bad, though.”
“‘Not bad’?” you tease. “I made sure you got the nicest one in the staff block.” When he looks surprised, you glance away. “It’s the least I could do — as a thank you for coming.”
Sukuna chuckles. “You’re always too nice to me. Might give me the wrong idea one of these days.”
Your grip tightens on your glass. “Or the right one...”
When you end up in his room, the both of you fumbling to unbutton and remove clothes as you kiss, his mouth soft yet insistent against yours, you tell yourself this is enough. As he pushes you down onto the bed, strong arms caging you in as he bites and sucks the tender skin between your neck and shoulder, you tell yourself this doesn’t need to be anything serious.
But afterwards, when his hard, lean body curls languidly around you, bare skin warm and smooth against your own, it’s hard not to imagine more — waking up beside him every morning, having breakfast together, straightening his usually-crooked tie while he pokes fun at you... You want all of it.
For now, though, you settle for his deep, steady breaths and the way he sleepily pulls you closer, arms tight around you.
• • •
When you wake up the next morning, Sukuna is propped up beside you, dark eyes unreadable.
“Watching me sleep?” you ask, voice slightly hoarse as you roll over to look at the clock beside the bed. Six o’clock. Plenty of time to get ready for another day of work.
“Creepy, I know.” His tone is flat, but he looks gentler than usual, with his bed head and placid expression. In the early morning light, you can see the full extent of his tattoos, bold, wide lines that trace across his body. They suit him, but you can’t put your finger on why.
“Look, can we... talk? About last night?”
You stiffen, mentally preparing yourself for what comes next.
“This was fun, but we’re better off as friends.”
“We can do this again, but I’m not interested in anything serious.”
“This was a mistake. Let’s pretend it never happened.”
But instead, what Sukuna says is, “This wasn’t just sex for me. I’m not really into that. Well, not anymore...” He runs a hand through his hair. “I, uh... Like you?” It comes out as a question, and his brow furrows, looking agitated. “I’m fucking this up.”
He must not expect your laugh, because his eyes widen at the sound. But you’re just so relieved. “I like you, too, dumbass.”
“Dumbass?” He playfully shoves at you. “So romantic.”
“What, you’re gonna change your mind?”
His hand moves from your shoulder to your face, stroking your cheek. “Nah... I knew what I was getting into. But the romantic thing... I think I can fix that.”
“Oh yeah?”
He grins. “You. Me. The huge, fancy bathtub. Room service. Does having mimosas with breakfast count as drinking on the job?”
You turn your head and press a kiss to his palm. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“You’re bad,” he growls, leaning over you, his breath warming your upturned lips. “When did that happen?”
“When I met this guy. He’s smart, sexy, kind of a jerk —” The rest of your words dissolve into a breathy gasp as he kisses you, teeth nipping against your bottom lip.
“Yeah, yeah... Less talking, hm? Now, how about that bath?”
#200 followers event#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#au sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader
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Epilogue to Summer Heat, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers
-(fem!reader x Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers)
Summary: A glimpse of the months following Steve leaving Reader for Peggy. This is a part 2/sequel/epilogue of this fic for @syntheticavenger's 5K Follower Challenge
Warnings: This is mild! Mostly Fluff with slight Angst. There's a hint at Bucky eating out his very pregnant girlfriend if you squint. Bucky is soft. Steve is an idiot. Bucky really loves reader. (I stuck at these I apologize. Contains very minor Loki spoilers. I wrote this in like a hour on my phone so I apologize for any typos etc)
Please reblog/share and comment. I love to read your reviews!
Word Count: 2,060
It had been nearly 5 months since you had found out that you were pregnant. You and Bucky were letting everything fall into place as you were getting ready for the birth of your baby. He had talked you into finding out the sex when it was born, despite you wanting to hurry up and find out. You closed your eyes as you sat on the couch, your legs propped onto a pillow as you rubbed your stomach as your baby kicked.
"He's good," he says with a smile. "God, you're so beautiful," he says, and you chuckle.
"I'm a whale, Buck," you say and throw a blueberry at him, which he catches with his mouth. "There's nothing beautiful about me," you snort, and he glares at you.
"I'm a whale, Buck," you say and throw a blueberry at him, which he catches with his mouth. "There's nothing beautiful about me," you snort, and he glares at you.
"Baby, how many times do I have to tell you that you're beautiful?" He asks, and you sigh. You just feel so fat and unattractive, but Bucky still stares at you the same way he did before he made the first move and kissed you all those months ago.
"I don't deserve you, Buck," you smile and move, so you are sitting beside him. "I honestly don't deserve everything you've done for the baby and me-" he cuts you off as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you gently into him, kissing your lips with a softness that made you get goosebumps every time.
"Our baby," he says into your lips.
"Our baby," you whisper back and smile as he stands up and takes your empty bowl to the sink, and comes back to lean down to kiss your chin where you had some chocolate. His lips move up to his, and you run your hands into his hair pulling him closer as he gently devours your lips with his own.
"Need to taste you," he says in a rough tone before pulling away. His hands reach down, taking both of yours. He helps you off of the couch and walks you back to the bedroom.
~ 2 Months Later~
You woke up one morning hearing the birds chirping outside of your window and smiled as Bucky came in, bringing you some toast with avocados and eggs on it. You eat the toast as he leans and kisses your stomach, softly singing his favorite song with his head gently lying on your huge tummy.
You giggle as you listen to him singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" as you close your eyes and remember your first kiss during "The Wizard of Oz" all of those months ago. You play with his hair, looking down at him, wondering how you got so lucky to have a guy like Bucky. Your eyes close for a moment. You can't help but think of Steve. You hate that he left you, you hate that he chose to be with another woman; but why couldn't you hate him?
If he had known you were pregnant, you know he would've stayed. Wouldn't he?
"Hey doll, you okay?" You heard Bucky ask, and you looked down at him. You smile as you nod your head down at him. You take a deep breath.
"I was just thinking about Steve ... not necessarily the bad stuff. I just ..." you couldn't find the words. "He just would have been a good father," you say softly.
"You're right," he smiles and looks up at you. "He was a good man," he whispers and closes his eyes. "I just ... wish he would've handled all of this differently. He should've talked to you," he said, his fingers gently moving over your tummy. You smile. His singing was always something that could calm the baby's kicking down.
When he moves to lay down beside you, pulling you as close as he could as he rested his head on your shoulder and his hand on your stomach. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit at his lip.
"At the funeral, he asked me if I liked you," Bucky whispered. He'd never talked to you about this before. "He said he saw something about the way we looked at each other. He wanted to know if I had feelings for you,"
You bit your lip as you listened to Bucky, and you placed your hand over his.
"I didn't lie to him. I told him the truth. I'm sorry if me telling him that caused him to leave," he said, and you place your finger over his lips.
"Bucky, even if I do miss him sometimes ... even if I do still love him. There's nothing like the love I have for you," you whisper and run your fingers through his hair. "This baby was made with Steve ... and even tho we told each other 'I Love You,' It is fate that you and I go through this with our baby."
Bucky looked up at you, his blue eyes beginning to tear up, and you smile as you run your fingers gently into his hair before you wiped at his face with your fingers.
"I love you so much," you say down to him.
"I love you," he says back as he kisses your stomach and looks up at you with his head resting against your tummy again.
"Let's get married," he says, and you look down at him about to say something. He smiles up at you. "I know it's not an ideal proposal," he chuckles. "But I don't want to wait, and I don't even have a ring ... but I can get one. I just want to marry you, and I want to grow old with you and our baby,"
"Let's get married," you say back with a smile. "We can just do it in the courthouse... I don't need anything but you, Buck. Maybe we can get Sam to come," you say, and he smiles as he pulls away and moves his dog tags from his neck to yours.
"Let's get married," he says again and kisses your lips.
Steve had promised Peggy that he would stop by the grocery store he walked out of the store with his paper bags and looked around as things began to freeze in time. He looked around strangely as everything began to move in slow motion. Holographic doors began to show around him, and three guards came out with guns and walked towards him.
One of them stepped towards him and looked down at something in their hand.
"Steve Rogers, on behalf of the Time Variance Authority. I hereby arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline."
Before he had a chance to speak, he was zapped away with the strange people and was put on trial. He honestly thought this was some kind of joke. How had he messed with the timeline?
"You must be Captain America," a voice said from behind him. He was holding a file and stood to walk towards him. "I'm Mobius," he said.
"Why am I here?"
"You messed up the Timeline by going back in time to be with Peggy Carter," Mobius replied. "We figured we would give you the chance to fix things. Follow me," he said, and Steve sighed, following after the man.
He stopped at an area, and Steve turned towards a vast place with darkness, but soon the darkness lit up. He saw you and Bucky in front of him.
He saw how the two of you had fallen in love, and something inside him twitched as he saw how you looked at Bucky. It was a way she never looked at him before. Then he watched the night she had called him asking him to pick something up for her, and he gasped.
"I wouldn't have left if I had known," Steve finally spoke.
Mobius looked over at the blonde and shook his head. Then looked back at the screen.
"You need to make a decision. But know one thing, them falling in love was always supposed to happen. It would have happened if you would've stayed," he said, causing Steve to look at the screen. "We normally don't do this, but we will give you time to figure out what you want. You can stay here ... you can let them live their lives. Or you can finally man up and admit that going back into time to be with a woman you only kissed once was a stupid thing to do,"
Bucky smiled as he kissed your head as your 6-week old baby girl, Isabella Rose rested on your chest. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and you didn't look any better.
"I still can't believe she's here," he smiled, looking down at the sleeping baby. "Here, let me take her. I want you to get some sleep," he said as he softly took her and stood up from the bed and walked her to her nursery, and laid her down.
"Hey sweet pea," Bucky says as he winds up the mobile and Isabella glances up at him and he swore she smiled before looking at the mobile. "All of this is new to me. But I promise I'm going to take care of you and mommy. It's going to be the three of us to the end of the line," he whispered and looked up at the mobile where he and you had hung Steve's dog tags that he had left behind. "Your daddy would love you so much. I miss him and I know mommy misses him too. You have his eyes and his hair. But hopefully, you aren't as hardheaded," he smiles and runs his fingers through her blond hair. "Go to sleep sweet pea,"
He came back into the bedroom and smirked, seeing you were already asleep, and he laid beside you and wrapped an arm around you.
He woke up a few hours later; Isabella was crying. He headed into the room and picked her up, comforting her with a smile.
"Daddy's here," he said as she wrapped her hand around his ring finger, and he smiled seeing her little fingers close to his wedding band. "Daddy's always gonna be here," he said, rocking her softly. He heard a knock on the door and carried Isabella carefully towards the door and opened it slowly.
Steve stood behind the door. He had a hand on the back of his neck as he looked out at his best friend holding his daughter just as you walked into the room.
"Buck, who's at the door?" You ask before you freeze as Bucky moves to the side, and Steve is standing there looking from you to Bucky and down at the little blonde-haired girl in Bucky's arms.
"Bucky, turn around," you say, and he backs away from you and turns his back, and holds Isabella close.
"How dare you!" You say as you slap Steve once and then again. "You left!" You say, and he reaches his hands out to grab ahold of yours. It's when he sees the rings on your finger.
"Y/N. I'm sorry. If I would've known, I wouldn't have left," he says, and you feel the tears building in your eyes.
"But you left Steve ... you left. You said you loved me, and you left," you shook your head. "I loved you, and you left," you said as you began to hit his chest before collapsing into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said as he held you close against his chest. "I came back ... I came back," he said against your head. "I know you and Bucky are together ... but I have to be here for her," he said, and you look up at him and feel his fingers wiping your eyes.
"Can I hold her?" Steve asks, his voice slightly cracking.
"Yes," you whisper and have him sit down on the couch as you motion for Bucky to take Isabella over to Steve. He hands Isabella over carefully, and she looks up at the strange man and wiggles a little in his arms as tears roll from Steve's blue eyes down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry I left you, little Angel, but daddy's never leaving you again," Steve said as he leaned and kissed her head and took in the smell of his daughter for the very first time.
Tagging:
@syntheticavenger @bitchassbucky @belladonnabarnes @stcrrynightsinneverlcnd @onceuponabarnes @fairyevans @balenciagabucky @honeysucklesteve @faeryloki @fuckandfluff @bibbidibobbidibucky @buckyblues @bloomingbucky @buckyssimp @mickey-henry @fluffycutecevans @midnightf @fallinforevans @buckys-blue-eyes @lokiscollar
#synths5kfollower challenge#bucky barnes#steve rogers#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x smut#bucky barnes x you#steve rogers x fluff#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x smut#steve rogers x you#chris evans x you#sebastian stan x you#nic.doc
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Stress Ball
Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: some petting, implied sexual frustration, more fluff really
Word count: 2,392
A/N: my second post of my writing! I'm still getting used to posting my writing, but I am beyond grateful to those who follow me <3 I hope you all enjoy this one!
Credit: @jacqiegordon16 for the gif <3
As the sun began to set behind the tall buildings of New York. The skies soon turned into beautiful shades of orange and pink. Even as the busy night life came out, one was still able to enjoy the mere sight of the skies change in color.
Just like down in the busy streets of New York, the Avenger tower was also coming to life with frantic hero’s preparing for a last minute mission.
One of earths mightiest hero’s was in his apartment. He ran like a chicken without its head. Searching for his tactical gear in one room, his knives in another, letting out a few staggered curses here and there.
“Bucky will you relax please”.
He heard the voice of his sweet girl come from the living room. As he exited their bedroom with his boots at hand, he couldn’t help but stare at her in awe.
There she sat on their couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. A book at hand.
He sat down next to her quickly placing his boots on.
“I can’t find my stupid knives and I can’t leave without them”.
he spoke with such frustration. His long dark hair blocked the view of his face to her.
As he finished tying his boots, he felt his hair being tugged behind his ear. His blue orbs averted to meet with his girls precious face. Her small hand cupped the base of his cheek, gently swiping her thumb over his stubbed skin.
Bucky immediately fell wayside into her palm, and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. His stress melting away in that very moment. Everything else that needed his attention disappeared. He only focused on her.
“Honey you’re so stressed, I don’t like seeing you like this…” she spoke.
Her voice was rich as honey. The sweetest sound on earth in Bucky’s opinion. It’s one of the reasons why he fell so in love with her in the first place. Once he heard her voice for the first time, he knew he had to marry her.
And he did, after two years together, two years of hearing nothing but her sweet coated voice, he proposed. They moved in right away, and had a small intimate wedding in Central Park. Bucky couldn’t be more happy. After everything he has been through he couldn’t imagine he’d finally get his happy ending.
“These last couple weeks have been hectic” he sighed as he snuggled closer to her soft palm.
For four weeks he and the team have been sent on countless missions. They last from dust until dawn, sometimes they even went on for days.
Bucky’s schedule was even more hectic in his opinion. He would wake up before the sun even rose to Friday announcing the time for the team’s departure.
Forcing him out of bed, he would turn to see his wife. Still sound asleep, and lost in her dreams. Before he left he made sure to make her a cup of coffee, leave a sweet pastry next to her mug, and give her lips a sort but passionate kiss.
It would be the only time he could see her before he would return. Sometimes returning so late in the morning that he would find her already whisked into deep sleep. That was if he was lucky to come back home to her, other times he isn’t so lucky.
He’d find himself sleeping in some hotel. Alone in a bed that would fit two. In those circumstances he would cling to a pillow and pretend it was his wife. He’s had his fair share of nightmares in the past, and the only thing to comfort him was her.
Her physical body pressed against his. His arms wrapped around the frame of her waste. He would inhale the sent of her hair as it tickled his nose from behind. Her small hands would find his at the base of her stomach. Their fingers intertwined with each other.
That how it was for the passed weeks. He barley got to spend anytime with her. And the moments where she was awake, and he finally had a chance to breath, he was dragged back into battle.
“Mr. Barnes the quinjet is ready to leave” Friday announced.
Bucky let out an exhale of frustration. He could feel the veins in his head expand to the surface of his forehead. The cycle was about to begin all over again.
“Go I’ll be ok, and you’ll be back before you know it”.
Her voice…it melted his heart in ways he still can’t explain. He gave a gentle kiss to her palm before getting to his feet. Suddenly he was brought back to reality, and he was once again looking for his knives.
His wife stood along with him. A smirk embedded into her face. Before he could ask any type of question, she reached from behind her back and handed him the thigh strap, and another that went into his boot.
“They were in between the couch cushions” she smiled.
After he placed the steel weapons in their place, he cupped his wife’s face with both his flesh hand and metal one.
He looked into her eyes, wishing he didn’t have to leave her once again.
“What would I do without you?” He asked.
A smile spread across her.
“You’d be even more stressed”.
She was right.
They both leaned into one another, allowing their lips to meet in a sweet, slow kiss. His hands moved down to her waste and pushed her flushed against him.
The kiss soon turned deep and passionate. His tongue glided across her bottom lip. After granting him access, her hands found their way around his neck, fingers gliding through his scalp. The kiss deepening.
It was no secret that during those weeks that Bucky and his wife were separated from each other were even more difficult sexually.
They both craved each other in ways unimaginable. The small moments they had were never enough to satisfy their needs, even if it was quick. It still never felt enough.
“Mr. Barnes your presence is asked for immediately” Friday interrupted them.
They both broke away. Breathless, and with a dying urge in both their abdomens.
They rested their foreheads against one another. Basking in the last moments they had.
“Will you miss me?” He asked as his eyes shut.
“I’ll always miss you” she whispered.
He placed one last kiss to her forehead.
“I love you”.
“I love you too”.
With that he was forced to leave. Praying things would go as planned on this mission. Praying his built up stress over the last couple weeks would go away.
Praying he’d come back home early for once, to be with his wife.
****
But that simply wasn’t the case. The mission went horribly wrong, the entire team had to regroup their strategy plan. Because of this detour they were forced to rough it out in yet another hotel.
As Bucky laid in the cold bed, he looked out the window of his room. The moon illuminated the night sky, rays of the moon seeped into his room. The rays danced lightly on the vibranium of his left arm. He glanced down to look at his metal fingers to see the steel platinum band around his ring finger.
A mantra of his wife’s voice echoed through his mind.
“When we are not together I want you to look up at the moon, and think of me. And as you are doing that, I’ll be here at home doing the same thing”.
And that she was.
She laid in their shared bed. Alone, and clinging to one of his sweaters that still smelled like him. Her body laid on its side as she looked up at the big, bright moon shinning into the room.
Just like with her husband, the rays gave her ring it’s beautiful sparkle. The diamond in the middle of the gold band sparked.
Thousands of miles apart, yet they both did the same thing.
They thought of each other, while looking up at the moon.
****
On a late weekend night, Bucky’s wife sat back down on their couch. Feet propped up on the coffee table, and enjoying yet another good book.
It was getting late, but she didn’t loose hope of waiting for her husbands return.
On one of their calls last night, he had told her that the mission was over. Of course it had a few bumps along the way that only made Bucky even more stressed. But nothing else mattered, he was going home to be with his wife.
Normally her body won’t let her stay up this late. She’s naturally be whisked into sleep by a quarter to two in the morning. But not this time. She had drank a large cup of coffee, and was more than determined to stay awake.
As she was flipping one of the pages in her book, the door to their apartment was opened.
Still dressed in his tactical gear, Bucky made his way into their home. His eyes immediately landed on his wife, her eyes already on him.
She stood up in a quick motion, only to be engulfed in the arms of her loving husband.
“You stayed up?”
he spoke still holding onto her small frame.
“I needed to see you, I missed you so much”
she held onto him tighter, scared to let go and he’d be taken away from her once again.
“I missed you too doll” he whispered.
He placed her back down, and they both made their way onto the couch. They both sat down next to one another. She rested her head on his chest, his flesh hand sat on his thigh, as the metal one draped along the top of the couch.
She had asked how the mission went, and Bucky still felt his stress at the surface of his body. He told her everything, from the moment the plan was compromised, to the painful days his body and mind had to endure.
Even though he was a super solider who was indestructible, his body still aches. His mind ached from missing his wife so much. He was tired, he was frustrated, he was still stressed.
His wife noticed how hard his metal hand was gripping the leather of the couch. It was a sign that his stress was at an exceeding level. She looked up to see a frustrated expression on her husbands face.
She honestly didn’t like to see him like this. All she wanted to do was help, but in many ways she didn’t know how.
When Bucky was stressed, he would always be frustrated, angry, and upset. Never at her, but at the situation at hand. Being married to him for a while now, she knew how he’d get.
His frustration and stress got to the best of him at times. His grip on anything was always strong. Breaking anything from glass cups, to the metal railing on their Balcony.
So an idea popped into her mind.
She fixed her posture to where she was sitting up straight. Bucky noticed her shift in movement, but before he could say anything she grabbed his metal hand and slipped it underneath her tank top.
She placed his hand to cup one of her breasts.
Bucky’s breath hitched at his wife’s sudden movement of his hand. His metal hand was met with the soft, silky, skin of his wife’s braless breast.
“What are you doing sweet girl” he whispered as his hand stayed unmoved in its new position.
His wife looked up at him and smiled.
“Giving you something to squeeze” her smile turned into a deviant smirk.
Bucky was at a loss for words, and his wife could notice that.
“I know you’ve been really stressed lately, and I just want to do something that will help you out”.
She batted her long lashed at him.
“Honey you don’t—“
“I know I don’t, but I want to. Just let me be your personal stress ball”.
Bucky didn’t think he could love her anymore than he did at this very moment. Although he knew what she wanted to conquer at the end. His heart still swelled at his wife’s caring actions.
He didn’t need to speak anymore. Instead he lightly squeezed his wife’s breast in his hand. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut, and she rested her head back into his chest.
He continued his movement at a slow and steady pace. Nothing else mattered in this intimate moment he and his wife were sharing. And he felt all his stress leave his body.
After a couple more light squeezes, his metal thumb began to brush against her nipple. The sensitive nub already turning hard the moment he made contact with it.
His wife began to let out small moans. One of her hands found their way into his thick thighs, giving it a light squeeze as well.
She was beginning to get lost in her own mind, and before she could conjure up any scenarios of what could possibly happen in their bedroom. His movement stopped.
Confused at first, she looked up to see her husband peacefully asleep. His metal hand still holding onto her breast.
She couldn’t help but giggle a little.
Snuggling up closer to him. She shut her eyes and began to be whisked into deep sleep.
#sebastian stan and anthony mackie#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan fanfiction#bucky fic#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky barns fanfiction#the winter solider
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“Get It Out!”
Angel Reyes x Reader (Guest appearance from EZ)
Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injuries
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: We love a little Injured!Angel having to get taken care of by his girl and his brother. This was technically a Whumptober prompt but I have fallen behind on posting those in order so here’s a little one-shot. 😁 Feel free to make requests!
When you had told Angel that you wanted him to be more honest with you, to let you in on what was going on with the club, this is not the direction that you saw it going in. You just wanted to know why he was gone for days at a time and couldn’t communicate with you. You did not expect to have him turning up on your doorstep, half-draped onto his brother, bleeding.
“What the fuck,” you opened the door all the way and helped EZ pull him inside.
“He got stabbed,” EZ didn’t really know how much he should elaborate—he didn’t know how much you knew.
You scoffed, “Yea I can fucking see that, Ezekiel, the blade is still stuck in his leg.”
The two of you carefully lowered Angel onto the floor. You had so many questions but from the look on EZ’s face you weren’t confident that either of them were going to give you many answers. Blood was trickling down Angel’s leg and it was almost too distracting. It was hard to think about what to do when all you could think about was the fact that your boyfriend was one wrong decision away from bleeding out on your floor.
“What do you want me to do?” you finally managed to ask.
“I don’t know,” EZ replied honestly, “He insisted that we come here because you would know what to do.”
You huffed, “Fucking hell. Alright, um, go grab some towels out of the closet. I’m gonna grab some gauze and other stuff. I’ll see if I can get him patched up enough to take him to a real doctor.”
“No doctor,” it was the first time Angel had spoken.
“Angel,” your voice was firm, “this isn’t a debate. I’m gonna get rid of the evidence of whatever crime was involved here,” you gestured broadly to his whole body, “and then I’m gonna come up with a fake story and get you to an emergency room.”
“But—”
“It wasn’t a question,” you cut him off before he could argue.
You flew up the stairs, heading to the bedroom that you and Angel shared. You looked through his drawers, finally finding an old belt that would do exactly what you needed. You gripped it tight in your hand as you also dug around for an old pair of shorts and a clean shirt for him to wear instead of his now-bloody jeans and his kutte.
Once you found everything that you needed in the bedroom, you made your way to the bathroom. You called out to EZ to put the towels underneath Angel’s leg so he wouldn’t bleed all over the floor. You could hear Angel’s voice but it was muffled and you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Surely is was some sort of sarcastic remark. It was probably better that you didn’t hear it.
You rooted through the cabinet in the bathroom until you found some peroxide and gauze. You also grabbed a wash cloth before making your way back downstairs. You dropped all of your treasures on the couch before proceeding to the kitchen. You grabbed a pot and filled it with warm water. You also got your fabric scissors out of the junk drawer, chuckling to yourself that your random crafting phase a few years ago was paying off in the strangest ways now. You brought them out to the living room and set it on the ground next to where EZ had positioned Angel.
You looked over at EZ, handing him the scissors, “Help him get his pants off while I get all of this set up.”
Angel groaned, “C’mon, Y/N, we don’t gotta do all this.”
“You came to me for help, Angel.”
“Just get it out,” he gestured to the blade jutting out of his leg, “Get it out and slap a band-aid on that shit, Querida. I’ll be fine.”
“I say this with all the love in the world, Angel: shut the fuck up,” you gave a pointed look to EZ, “Scissors, jeans, now.”
Angel might be up for arguing with you but EZ knew better. He had yet to piss you off and today certainly wasn’t going to be the day that he changed that trend. He pulled off his brother’s shoes and set about carefully cutting the fabric above and below the blade that was in Angel’s leg, peeling off the piece that was below. The cut off his leg with no issues.
“What do you want me to do with the fabric that’s cut by the knife?”
“Leave it for now,” you were getting the gauze ready, “that’ll be the last piece we take care of.
EZ helped brace Angel off the ground just enough so that he could push the waistband of his jeans down off his hips. It felt foreign to him to try and get his pants off when there was only full leg left of them. EZ carefully maneuvered the cut piece around the blade without touching it too much, but it still made Angel wince and curse under his breath as he wriggled his other leg out of the fabric.
Once his jeans were off and tossed to the side, you started telling EZ your plan. It wasn’t an elegant plan, and honestly if the blade had gotten one of Angel’s arteries there wasn’t going to be all that much you could do for him anyway. So this was your best shot, you just had to pray that it would work as well as you hoped.
“I’m gonna pull the blade out,” your breath shook just saying it, “Then you’re gonna press the gauze hard against the wound to try and slow the bleeding. Then I’m gonna use this,” you held up the belt, “to wrap around it to try and get some good, consistent pressure on it. Hopefully that’ll all work and then we can get fresh clothes on him and get him to the hospital.”
“What about me?” Angel piped up, “What do I do?”
You looked down at him. His face was pretty neutral given the circumstances, but you could see the fear in his eyes. You placed your hand gently on his cheek, “Try to sit as still as possible. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”
You looked over at EZ again to make sure that he was ready. He gave you a small nod and you gently wrapped your fingers around the handle of the knife. It wasn’t your typical little pocket-knife, and you were glad they someone had had the foresight to not just yank it out right away. You let out as steady of a breath as you could manage.
“Just get it out, Y/N,” Angel’s voice was harsh but you couldn’t blame him.
“Sorry,” your voice was soft as you pulled it out in one smooth motion.
“Fuck!” Angel screamed and clenched his fists, fighting the urge to squirm from the pain.
You pulled the last small piece of fabric down away from the cut and EZ immediately placed the gauze onto the wound, stifling the bleeding slightly. You took a breath and tried to reassess for your next step. You were going to have to clean out the cut—god only knows where that knife had been before it got jammed into Angel’s leg.
“This is gonna sting, Angel, I’m sorry,” you couldn’t meet his eyes. You lifted EZ’s hands and poured the peroxide onto the cut, immediately pushing EZ’s hands back down again.
Angel’s eyes were shut tight, fighting the urge to let out another scream. He had the towel balled up in his fists, knuckles white. You tried not to think about that as you grabbed the belt, propping his leg up just enough so that you would be able to loop the belt underneath it. He didn’t have scrawny thighs, so it didn’t loop around as many times as you had originally thought it might, but it seemed like so far your plan was working about as well as could be expected. There was no blood spraying everywhere, and it seemed like you would be able to clean him up a little bit and get him to the hospital without him passing out from blood loss. All of those things were huge wins in your book.
You took a deep breath and looked over to Angel, who was a little paler than usual. You gently ran your thumb across his cheekbone before setting about to clean off his leg. You soaked the wash cloth in the warm water and wiped down his entire leg, trying your best to get as much of the dried blood off as possible.
“EZ,” you looked over at him with pleading eyes, “Can you help him stand up so I can pull on his shorts?”
“I can pull on my own shorts. I’m injured, not unconscious,” he sounded bitter.
“You shouldn’t be bending that leg, Angel, that’s all. I know you’re capable of dressing yourself. Don’t start being a baby about all of this now.”
EZ stifled a laugh as he helped his brother to his feet. Angel leaned more of his weight onto EZ than necessary just to make him pay for finding any humor in this situation. Angel did as he was told, though, and allowed you to pull his shorts up. Changing his shirt went much smoother and soon enough he was ready to be taken to the hospital.
They helped him hobble out of the house. EZ was about to guide him back to the pickup but you steered them towards your car. “Back seat is bigger,” you stated matter-of-factly. You and EZ helped ease Angel into the back seat. You hopped in the driver’s seat and EZ sat shotgun.
“What’re you even gonna tell the doctors?” Angel piped up from the back seat.
You looked at him through the rearview mirror, “You work at a scrapyard, can’t you just tell them it was a workplace accident?”
“I mean,” he huffed, “I guess.”
You chuckled, shaking your head and returning your eyes to the road. EZ looked over at you with a smirk, “Not bad for not a doctor, Y/N.”
“You boys and your praise. It’s a wonder I can stay so humble.”
#angel reyes#ez reyes#ezekiel reyes#mayans mc#mayansmc#mayans fx#angel reyes x you#angel reyes x reader#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes fanfic#ez reyes fanfic#mayans mc imagine#mayans mc x reader#my writing#fanfic#fanfiction#whumptober#drabblesmc
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The Scars You Hide
Masterlist
We Meet Again | Next
Summary: After your meeting with Bakugou, you get an unexpected call to meet with someone else from your past. Is it possible to mend a relationship you weren’t sure was even there?
“Hey Mina, does Bakugou ever talk about me?” You asked, skimming through the clothing rack next to her with that wide smile you always seemed to have.
Her hands were filled with clothing items, and at your question she seemed to almost drop them. Her pink skin seemed to pale slightly as you watched a small sweat begin to breakout on your face, and in your heart you knew the truth. You couldn’t help but let your smile drop ever so slightly, but you gave a light laugh to calm her down and bring the mood back up.
“It’s okay, I know he probably doesn’t talk about me. . It was just worth a shot to ask.” You giggle falsely, feeling not a trace of humor in the feeling you got in the pit of your stomach. “Let’s go pay, my treat!” You repeated the words you said every time you went out with any one of your friends, the return for spending some time with you.
It was weird with Mina though, whenever you offered to pay it looked like she was conflicted. Her yellow eyes would soften like you spilled some said truth, but you never questioned it. That look scared you with the fear that she might be tired of you, so you’d ignore it for as long as you could. . .
“Ryu, how many times do I have to tell you not to use your quirk in the house!” You yelled to what seemed like thin air as your son clapped once again with another crayon in his hand.
When his little hands met, a small explosion went off that burned the crayon to ash and he sheepishly looked up at you from his spot next to the coffee table. Ryu was so much like his father that it bewildered you, he managed to be a carbon copy of someone he never even met. Not only did he steal most of Katsuki’s physical genetics, he acted nearly identical and had a variation of his quirk. You wondered if being quirkless was the reason all your genes seemed to fail to make the cut, but how could you be mad at that when you loved everything about the blonde little boy?
It would have been nice if he had a little less of Katsuki’s temper, though.
“Honestly, it’s like you want to see me go gray early,” you huffed and continued on your way to the laundry room with your basket full of clothes.
Seven years ago, doing laundry would have been a funny joke to you. There were maids that were perfectly capable and paid to do it for you, so there was virtually no point in learning. The only time you lifted a finger was for makeup and eating, that’s how your father preferred you to live. It was a big contrast to now, where you stood in leggings and an oversized band t-shirt doing every bit of the cleaning and laundry, for not only yourself, but also the six year old son that was never in the plans for your future. In fact, no part of the life you created for yourself was apart of the original plan.
Your phone rang as you finished putting in your first load into the washer, and you answered it without looking, propping the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you put on the proper settings. The unfamiliar voice you heard nearly made you jump since only a handful of people had your number.
“Hey,” the woman said with uncertainty clear in her tone.
“Hello. Who is this?” You asked straight to the point, still continuing your chores as you went from the laundry room to the living room where Ryu was now coloring peacefully and began picking up his mid placed toys.
“Oh it’s Mina. . Sorry for calling you out of the blue, but I was just wondering if you’d like to talk?”
You froze in place, immediately going into mental hyperdrive over all the things she could want to talk about, but none of them seemed reasonable. Neither of you had any contact after Katsuki told you the truth about everyone, you completely went off the grid and she went on with her life like everyone. It would make sense to come up with a bullshit excuse to get out of it. . . but then again it would be much easier to clean with someone entertaining Ryu.
“I’ll send you my address, we can talk here.”
“So. . he really is Bakugou’s kid.” Mina sweat dropped as you both watched him stand on top of the couch with two hero action figures in hand, one of them being Bakugou, yelling nonsense about how he can’t be beaten.
“HAHA! Not even Dynamight and Ignenium can stop this villain, but I will be victorious!”
‘Honestly, that whole strive for victory mindset could be Katsuki or my dad’s genetics.’
“Carbon copy with some tweaks,” you shrugged and continued on your way to your bedroom with your basket full of laundry.
Mina followed you through your small — but well decorated due to your mother — home looking as troubled as she was hesitant as she always did around you. It still bothered you like when you were just a dumb rich girl, and you were must less keen on ignoring it to keep the peace. You were strangers now, after all, not friends due to business.
“So,” you started as you dropped the basket on the ground in front of your queen with a loud ‘plop’. “I know you didn’t come here to just get a peek at the bastard child of your friend, and you certainly aren’t here to rekindle our fake friendship, Ashido. . Spill it.”
You stared at her with accusation, stance showing that this easily could shift from a friendly encounter to a hostile environment depending on her next choice of words. Mina was a hero now, she most definitely could tell that this wasn’t the time to play pretend and get straight to the point like she would in the face of a real villain. She may be more of a commercial hero, enjoying the occasional spotlight and taking down many villains for a camera, but you remember that she looked death in the face the moment she got on the hero track.
The atmosphere in the room became tense as Mina was taken back by your commanding attitude, one that showed that what she suspected about you was true; this wasn’t the same Y/N she met as a kid. Your eyes were colder, uninviting and daring her to take a step too close into your world. Your posture even deterred her from thinking she was anything more than a stranger you invited into your home. Everything about the way you acted was a clear indication that the worst case scenario she had thought of after you contacted her had most likely come to fruition.
“What. . happened to you, Y/N?” Mina asked hesitantly, and you blinked at the question with your arms unconsciously reaching for your right side, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Mina.
After a moment of silence you explained, “I had him. My father didn’t like that. . and he told me not to go through with it, that it would be a shameful mistake. When I refused, he kicked me out onto the streets saying I wasn’t his daughter. I had nothing and no one, my pregnancy was high risk, and I had just been told that everything I knew wasn’t real, but we made it just fine.”
The answer was so vague beyond being disowned that it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened between being on the street and now wasn't something you’d be willing to tell just anybody. Especially not the girl who was only her friend in hopes of getting an up on life in her future. The fact that you told her that much was a privilege she should never expect to receive again. Mina could only frown and think of how lost and heartbroken you must have been, all because she couldn’t bring herself to stand without the herd and tell you the truth. You probably didn’t trust anyone now, and the fact that Katsuki probably thought you were living an easy life on your father’s money didn’t sit right with her when you did everything for yourself now, and obviously lived a modest life with his son.
This was her chance to redeem herself for her first failure as a hero, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
Mina looked you dead in the eyes with determination that you’d never seen before and said, “I want to help you take care of Ryu.”
Your brows furrowed at her declaration, “I don’t need help-“
“You do, and I’m going to be here for you. I don’t care if you hate me now, but I’m going to make it up to you for being selfish.” Mina pressed, her bouncy pink hair jumping as she bounded closer to you with a grin that used to always make a smile come on your own face. Her smile widened and her eyes closed as she made her words sink in with you. “I want to get to know the real you, Y/N, and I’m not going to miss the opportunity of seeing how you managed to keep a little Bakugou alive.”
You didn’t know what to say, no words were good enough to express every emotion she made you feel after six years of doing everything on your own. There probably weren't any words that could sum up the feeling of someone wanting to see who you really were after being someone else your whole life. You werent fully convinced — you couldn’t be, this not only affected you, but your son too — but there was a simple statement that would let her know that this meant something.
“Thank you.”
A/N: I hope you like this Mina x reader moment! I know there wasn’t much Bakugou and Ryu action, but more to come soon. Also, Ryu’s quirk is explosions that are activated by contact with his hands, meaning that he has to touch something to let out an explosion unlike Katsuki who can just let them rip at any time!
Taglist <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @hawksnugget @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @byakuyaswifee @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @liznoonz427 @damnirina @fireworkemoji102 @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa
#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha#bakugo x reader#x reader#bnha fanfiction#katsuki bakugo x y/n#bnha angst#bnha x reader
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Step three
Back with another spicy part while I wait for more tasty tasty asks! This one includes consent! Look at Illumi go!
cw: nsfw, possessiveness, mentions of murder, that’s about it honestly
Previous part: here
First part: here
Illumi enjoyed his new relationship, but he was also somewhat confused by it. He was never taught much about 'dating', marriage was about the only romantic dynamic he knew of in detail, but after 5 or so outings together with you, his mother had informed him that you two were officially a couple. However, when the dark haired assassin had assured her he'd be swift in getting a wedding band for you, she'd put a halt to his plans,
"Now now Illumi dear, you can't just jump to marriage with this girl." she'd chided gently, "She's shy, you'll overwhelm her with talk of marriage so soon. You still have wooing to do, so start out slow, 'boyfriend and girlfriend' status for now." The thought made the man grimace,
"Mother, I can further court her when she's my fiancee," His mother huffed at his stubborn tone,
"Dear, the titles of 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' are basically the same as fiance. The only difference is referring to this girl as your girlfriend will spook her less than calling her your wife. Trust me on this, your father was not the first man to date m-" He hung up on her before she could finish that thought.
Nonetheless, he took her advice and refrained from calling you his fiancee, for now, though that's what you were to him in his mind. He'd confirmed his status on your next outing together, and it was reassuring for him to see how you turned pink at his inquiry and stuttered out your acceptance, it solidified the fact that you wouldn't be a wife he needed to worry about too much. However, this progression brought a new level of reluctance to leave you, to let Milluki watch you while he was on jobs. He very much wanted to just scoop you up now and take you to the safety of his family home, but Kikyo shot the idea down again, forcing him to 'take things slow' and 'ease (y/n) into things'
.
This issue was, of course, never a problem at work though. While it did bother him like a needle pressed too deeply into his shirt, he was a perfect professional, and didn't let his musings over what to do about you turn his work sloppy. If anything, his desire to return to you as soon as possible made him seek out more efficient methods of disposing of his targets, which permitted him some free time to pick off the meager few friends you had on his way back to his secondary home. That sort of detour is what earned him his current position.
He'd returned home from a rather textbook assassination that had been simple to do and spared him a day or two to hunt down and kill your final remaining friend to you once again miserable.
"W-we're dating, right?" you'd asked, your voice shakey with anguish despite the (favorite flower) Illumi was standing on your porch offering to you. He nodded, hiding his disdain at the word behind a mask of his usual unchanging expression, "Than...do you mind staying the night with me? I've now l-lost all of mm-my friends and I've been so lonely..." you explained, physically shaking from the strain of fighting back tears. Illumi adored seeing you so isolated and alone, it was adorable in a dark way, and it meant he could finally be your only source of substantial human contact. You'd finally depend on him severely.
Of course Illumi agreed to your demand, so the two of you spent the day together, and when evening fell, you snuggled into his side, squishing your form to him as if that would push out more of the attention you so craved. It was honestly hard for him not to smile in the dark living room while you watched a movie and clung to him while he played with your (h/l), (h/c) hair, you were just too cute when you were so needy for him. Just like she was the night I'd moved in. he thought, but than had to force himself not to recall the night you'd slept on the couch in nothing but your panties and a shirt, begging for him to claim you with the way you laid on your back, shirt pushed up just enough to preview a hint of your (r/c) panties. Now was not the time to rile himself up. He might not have much self-restraint.
Luckily, he had the discipline to focus on something else aside from that night, and he found he rather enjoyed having you nestled beneath his arm, your own (s/c) arm draped loosely across his chest and, after a while, your leg thrown over his lap. The simple physical contact made Illumi burn with an addictive, yet not lustful, warmth. He couldn't place the feeling, but it made the ebony haired assassin tighten his grip on your dozing form. If he wasn't certain of your destiny as his wife, he was now.
After that night, he admittedly lingered a tad. He came over quite a bit under the guise of checking on you while you were so vulnerable, but it seemed he wasn't as skilled at hiding such an unknown emotion.
"Illumi?" you hummed one night when he was over, laying between your legs with his head on your chest while you lounged on the couch with a tv show on as a way to keep you from being awkward in the silence,
"Yes, (y/n)?" he responded, moving to look up at you while you threaded your fingers through his silky black hair,
"I do enjoy you coming over and spending time with me, but you do realize you can just come over to hang out sometimes, right?" you asked, smiling slightly.
"Ah, I don't want to seem overbearing," he said, lying slightly, not wanting to try and explain this addiction to your soft, affectionate touches and cuddles. You giggled, blushing a bit as you spoke again,
"Well, I-I don't mind you being over, so as long as you ask first, I don't see how you'd be overbearing." you assured.
Illumi hummed in response, looking at you curiously for a moment before he resituated himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, your face darkening in response to the shift causing his hips to be pressed more against yours, to look down at you. For a moment the two of you looked at one another, than he lowered his head and kissed you.
He felt you tense in response, so he pulled away slightly, far enough to break the kiss, but close enough so that his warm breath gently fanned over your (s/c) face. However, you didn't complain, instead giggling and turning a darker shade of pink, so after a short moment, he pressed his lips to yours again in a quick kiss, pausing for a shorter time before doing it again. Much to his delight, you began kissing back. With that encouragement, he held the next kiss, leading you into a short make out session. After he pulled away again, you giggled again, your face now pretty red, which gave Illumi a spark of smug satisfaction, I'm the only man you'll be this vulnerable for. He mentally told you, but he refrained from verbalizing the thought at this moment. He could potentially get consent for sex, he couldn't risk it for his controlling urges.
"Um, 'lumi?" you asked, your voice a quiet, slightly breathy whisper, drawing the man out of his possessive thoughts and back to the moment, "d-do you think we could, I dunno, um, s-see how far this goes?" you asked, your (e/c) eyes now refusing to meet his, but this time it wasn't because of how empty they were, but because of your flustered nerves.
"Only if you want to," he assured, "though, you should know that I have a habit to get a bit rough," he warned, more to see how you'd react. Judging from your embarrassed silence, you weren't opposed to that.
Such a good girl, (y/n) He thought before going in for another kiss, moving one hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you against him possessively. You squeaked, but only wrapped your arms around his neck, wiggling your hips testingly against the growing bulge in his pants, mewling when he mindlessly rutted against you.
After that, things swiftly got more heated. He snuck a hand up your shirt as he moved his mouth down to your neck, no longer hesitating to leave a trail of rather rough love-bites down to your collar bone. He relished the little noises each nip and bite brought, even if they were more pained than pleasurable whimpers, as he tugged your top off and let you tentatively remove your bra, willingly revealing the soft breasts he'd memorized the night he'd laid his claim on you. Something about you shyly removing your clothes made his dick throb more.
He was rather eager to nibble and suck at the tender (s/c) skin until you were writhing and whining more, your noises encouraging his touches, especially when he snaked a hand between your bodies to press against your clit and you gasped, pressing your hips into his hand hungrily. With that, he tugged your bottoms off, getting up to shed his own pants but returning to station himself back between your legs before you could sit up. He pushed you back down onto the couch and kissed you again, this time more forceful in the way he claimed your mouth and ate the needy moans you gave in response.
The way you clawed into his shirt and did your best to grind against his cock to achieve any friction you could woke that primal emotion he always failed to repress, threatening to drive him crazy.
"(y/n)," he breathed, not outwardly showing just how badly a possessive, neglected desire was burning him from the inside out beyond his stiff member and the tight grip he had on your thighs, "I'm sorry if I hurt you," he said, his urges mixing with his lust strong enough for him to realize the likelihood of him potentially crossing a line. With your shy nod, he positioned himself correctly and pushed into you.
He hummed along with your slightly shocked moan at the feeling of his throbbing member pressing into the delicious warmth of your welcoming cunt until he was buried up to his hilt.
"I-Illumi!" you breathed, gripping his shirt desperately while your walls twitched and spasmed around him as you adjusted to the intrusion. He grunted and kissed you as he began moving, slowly at first, but it didn't take long for the pleasure to drive him to pushing your thighs up to your chest and speeding up until the only sounds he heard in the room was the slew of lascivious noises you made and the slapping of skin upon skin.
The new position made you moan more, slurring out his name, drunk on the delectable sensations after only a short while, when you orgasmed and your walls tightened around the assassin. However, he didn't stop to give you a break, only letting one of your legs go to move his hand to your hip, keeping you in place as he now plowed into you, driven by the overwhelming waves of pleasure that rolled through him. Outwardly, he didn't seem terribly phased, making few noises, but if the rough pace didn't reveal his feelings, the burning urge to make you scream his name was a big piece of evidence.
"Tell me who you belong to," he ordered, his voice firm and steady as always, despite how he was skillfully thrusting into you to make your (e/c) eyes roll into the back of your head. "Say it" he repeated, gripping your hip so hard it'd bruise again until you managed,
"y-yours! I'm yours!" you whined, clawing into the couch since you could no longer reach his shoulders,
"Again," he ordered, making sure to hit your g-spot so that you once again arched your back and moaned his name loudly,
"I'm yours! I-I'm all yours Illumi!" you gasped out, beginning to whine and whimper from the creeping pain of overstimulation, though luckily for you, the sound of you saying you belonged to him was the push the assassin needed. He locked his hips against yours, ensuring he was as deep as he could be before shooting ropes of cum into you with a groan.
As he came down from his euphoria high, he realized he still held onto your thigh and hip so hard that your thigh at least was beginning to bleed under his nails. You, however, didn't seem to mind or notice. He could see that your (e/c) eyes were already beginning to drift shut, your brain more than likely fried from your own repeated orgasm. It wasn't a new sight to him, but he savored it and the thought that he was the only one who would give you such ecstasy from now on.
Once he could regain his composure, the little he lost, the man was careful as he moved you to lay on him, his dick still nestled snugly inside you, ensuring none of his potent seed slipped out while the two of you dozed off to the sounds of the forgotten TV.
#Illumi#yandere illumi#x reader#yandere#Yandere Illumi x reader#hxh#hunter x hunter#not sfw#part 8#fanfiction#quotev
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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿
mobile masterlist | web masterlist
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Band Singer AU!Jaebeom + Female!Reader
𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: Fluff, Touch of Angst
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Cursing, Alcohol Consumption, Pining Over an Ex
𝗦𝘆𝗽𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: When spring melts away the exuberance of winter, you're left collecting what was supposed to bring an abundance of blossoms only to find it somewhere closer to summer.
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7,124
𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: I wanted to wish a happy birthday to @bart-man! Thank you again for being my very first comment, it means the world to me. I hope you enjoy my little gift to you. I hope this fulfilled the request you had for me!
I have a note at the end that details a little bit of my inspiration for this work.
Just slight of snowfall, there is a deafening silence that consumes every noise for distances into a hushed whisper that withers away like how your breath does when it fogs glass panes, only ever lasting just a moment before being frozen back over. Whether it is because the cold captures your throat so aggressively that you do not allow your words to go to waste or because the wonder in the way snow drifts from the sky as if the stars were trickling down the navy sheet — a secret to whoever was cutting holes and letting the light from the other side seep in — there was something sacred about snowfall.
It was sacred in the way that climate used all its forces to brew together a prayer that included chill, humidity, and rain. Although it was an occurrence partially guaranteed, there was something about the anticipation of the glimmering flurries that never allowed one to relinquish that breath of waiting. Right before the first snowfall every year, there would be a period of continuous rain, blanketing Seoul in the melancholy ash skies that delivered the premature wish of winter. Though you hadn't minded it much in the past, recent years have made your commute strategically difficult.
The word is petrichor, but it smells more like the way you imagine a wet stray dog does when you're on the subway, crammed with the aromatic hints of human and pollution. The end of your day had already arrived as the sun bid farewell just before you shuffled down the steps into the train tunnel — not that you could have seen it from the thick masts of cotton that shrouded the sky — but nonetheless you were ready to be back in the comfort of your home. Checking your watch, you listened to the speaker announce the next stop, just one away from your own, while you shifted against the bar you were propped up against. Your feet were pulsing from your pinched heels that were a sorry excuse for support while you stood all day. The door slid open as you arrived at your stop, led by the wave of others, you headed with the current before resurfacing to the street. Sliding your umbrella out from its cover and launching the automatic release mechanism, you carried it over your head as you scurried down the street and towards the alley of your neighborhood. Right as you hit the home stretch, it occurred to you that your excitement to wash away the day's customer rants and murky rain had to be halted when you remembered your refrigerator was empty. Cursing yourself for not picking something up at a convenience store — now a ways away — and knowing that at this hour, there were no restaurants within a block you could simply order from, you marched back towards the main street.
Had you decided to simply starve that night, perhaps you would have never had the chance to meet him. It's an extreme way to express how you had spun the situation a million times over, wondering if there could have perhaps been a different outcome, but the resulting factor was that it had already happened and there was nothing you could have done to stop it. There was no reason to linger on something that was no longer tangible, even if somewhere in the crevices of your thoughts, you continued to do so. As you exited the store, produce in tow, the rain had subsided and instead exchanged you for the falling starlights of snow. Dragged by the weight of your groceries and captivation to stay just a bit longer to watch the flakes drift from the sky, you stalked up the hill towards your apartment building. Neck craned to observe the particles coming into full view, you could have completely missed the stranger on the corner who was plucking away at his guitar. The strums pulled your focus the same way his fingers tugged at the steel, and you listened to the way he posed his voice like the flakes above — cold and clean, but somehow it felt like he was praying. To who or what, you weren't sure, but honestly you didn't need to know. It's was methodical, soothing, and every note of his melody had meaning.
That's how he said your name too, months later when you had decided you were irrevocably in love. A plethora of songs written like love letters delivered to your ears, the subtle intimate moments where he stared at you between mundane actions like sharing dinner or reading a book. And he kept you warm through the winter, you like to think. You like to think he wasn't the chill that left you shivering, alone, when he finally melted away come spring. You like to think that the sudden gap in messages — your fair warning that you did not heed to because you were in love, blinded by the spell of snow — that spanned at first, as a daily occurrence and slowly grew into a weekly one, and then none at all, were all because he was busy. But when the crashing wave of realization came to you, you liked to think, you weren't thinking at all. Because maybe you weren't. Maybe, none of this had happened, and you were simply dreaming through the illusion of winter. None of your friends had a chance to meet him anyways since your schedules never quite lined up, so perhaps, he was less like waking up to a blanket of snow and more like watching flakes melt the moment they kissed the pavement. Maybe you weren't cold enough to keep him, or worse, too warm to preserve.
"Please, please please, you missed every lunch date we have had for months," you listened carefully to your friend, her voice carrying with desperation into your receiver as you somberly smiled, "The least you can do is let us have dinner with you for your birthday!"
What was there to celebrate? You had finally stopped living in a delusion and blaming yourself for the disappearance of someone who you thought you may have had a future with, but other than that, you still lacked the confidence to be fully present with others because it wasn't necessarily that he left but more that you waited, made up excuses, and tenderly hoped for something that deep down you knew wasn't going to happen. You felt foolish, and honestly, swallowing laughter was stiffening your facade. Never quite gaining the courage, you had told everyone around you that you both realized you were no longer interested in whatever relationship you were cultivating. It wasn't their fault, but the timing never felt right and how could you possibly seek comfort when your short and quick burn of a relationship would only earn responses even neighbors and passerby's could offer.
Oh that's too bad. You deserve better. I'm sure there's plenty of fish in the sea.
You didn't want to hear these generated answers pointed to your aimless plight, so you stayed silent and nursed your wounds on your own.
"I don't know, you know the shop has been busy lately," your excuse is mumbled as you peer up to check if a customer would magically fabricate and you could use them as a way to hang up, unable to continue lying.
"Someone can cover the evening shift I'm sure. You always go in so early just to do all those arrangements anyways," you hear a pout on her mouth as her whines increased.
"It's best to do them fresh or the flowers will wilt!" Chuckling softly as you twirled a piece of ribbon around your finger, a silence drifted between you two, "Please, I know you have been busy, but I miss you."
I miss you too.
But you didn't have the heart to see the faces of your friends, not when it took everything in you not to feel the rushing rapids of emotions that were still tittering between apathy and desperation. You found yourself crying into cups of coffee when it tasted too sweet, or when you arranged roses in a vase and the light bent against the convex glass. You felt frustrated and rage filled while you emptied the laundry drum and the clothes were sopping wet because you put it on the wrong setting, and even more upset when you'd see the milk would expire next week. Nothing felt like anything and yet felt like everything, all at once.
"Just for your birthday," the soft whisper of your friend emitted as you sighed, succumbing to your people pleasing antics, "Okay. Just dinner though."
And it was just supposed to be dinner. Everyone promised you. That is, until they all got drunk off the wine that was at the table and begged you with slurred speech to go to some bar with them. You should have figured honestly, but trapped between the loving affection of your missed company and the guilt that you had been deceiving them with a smile all night, you begrudgingly accepted. There was some popular live band playing, so your friends had been thrilled that they got to snag a table just early enough before the place got packed, but for you, this was how you began concocting your escape plan, oh sorry, I got lost in the crowd and couldn't make it back in! easy.
Execution was key here, and commencing meant to perfect your timing. Any misstep and you'd be sent back to this table, to your detriment, where you may have to remain all night. This was your limit, and you weren't sure how much longer you could hold up. While the band was setting up on stage, you managed to keep up your air of confidence amongst your drunken friends — whether you were actually good at acting or they were just too shit faced to notice didn't really matter at this point. Sipping through half your ombre cocktail that didn’t have enough juice, you managed to hold out through the first song of their set before mentioning to your friend beside you that you were headed to the bathroom. As they arranged themselves to let you out — smart that they trapped you between the wall and table — you took a deep breath before brisking towards the crowd.
An unsolicited but familiar shout of your name ruptured through the murmurs from the crowd, through the melodic guitar strums and echoing high hats, through your body as — by nature — you halted and swung your head towards the owner of the voice. Fingers wound tightly around the strap of your clutch, your eyes met with your winter, with your snow, with your melted river that had departed to the ocean. But the voice didn't come from him it came from her, an acquaintance of yours that you only associated with because of a friend of a friend of a friend, or something like that. You can't even remember her name, honestly. Here she was, the degrees of separation so much closer than you thought, with her arms hung from someone who was now a stranger to you. It took you a moment to meet her gaze, so fixated on him as if you were finally met with a reality check, a reminder that he did indeed exist. At least, at one point.
"I knew it was you! Hey!" The chiding excitement in her voice indicated booze before you even needed to lean in and inhale it. Peeling her arms of him, she embraced you in an awkward hug as you patted her back gently, some weird sick feeling of comforting her for this compromising situation that scrapped your escape route entirely. While being held by the drunken almost stranger, you looked over at him to see a deep rooted wall between you, this creation of amnesia that erased your existence from his knowledge all by choice. It was in the way he directed his gaze past you as if you had not been standing there, in the arms of his — new? — lover. You were so entranced by this warmth, this coddling from someone you would have least expected to see in contrast to the cold chill that you were delivered from the eyes of a stranger who once loved every inch of you. Pulling away, you heard her pipe up, "What are you doing here?! Is everyone else here?"
You can't remember what you responded that had her gingerly waving as she dragged along her love — perhaps you directed her to the table where everyone was waiting — but you suddenly had no energy to leave. No energy to go back, but none to move you from that very spot. If there weren't a crowd of individuals surrounding you, wedging your weight from one to another, you may have collapsed right there. You wondered if this was the ultimate form of jealousy, where every atom in your being had suddenly felt like it did not belong to you, but it wasn't necessarily part of anything else either. The feeling of isolation in your own vessel, so hardened and cold, that even if you wanted to lash out at her, there would be no reason to. Not because he didn't belong to you anymore, or that the way you watched them walk away reminded you of how you two once were, it was simply because you did not want to be here. Not at this bar. Not in these clothes. Not in this body, not in this mind. You suddenly felt such a detachment to every identifiable piece of you, and all at once nothing mattered.
Was it your ego speaking? Is this really how you felt? You were unsure, but now at the bar, nestled in your very own corner with three shots and eight cocktails in, the numbness was the only emulation of what you could find befitting for your current state of mind. It helped that the band was actually as good as your friends mentioned, your head swaying to the beat as you giggled to yourself in reminiscent memories that floated through your eyes, the thick and viscous waft of nostalgia rendering your current state useless. Had you been just slightly sober, you would have realized the tears that festooned your waterproof mascara — thank goodness for makeup that repelled any kind of liquid right? The bartender had pitied you, watching as you cried between each sip of your drink, and really didn't have the heart to shoo you away.
While the band announced an intermission, the lead singer shuffled down the steps and towards the counter eagerly to finally grab a drink he had been promised since the start of the set. Had he not overslept, he would have been buzzed like the rest of his bandmates, but his fucked sleeping schedule said otherwise. Dropping into one of the stools, he propped his elbows up while leaning into the counter to read the labels that were doused in fluorescent blue lights. Gaze trailing up and down like he was scouring a crossword puzzle until his eyes fell onto you — head against the wall and glass cradled in your hand. Honestly, it would have been more surprising if he hadn't noticed the mourning individual — you — in the corner. Peering towards the bartender in an attempt not to make you feel so conspicuous, he ushered her over to order.
"Is she okay?" muttering quietly as his drink was being prepared, she nodded softly in response before whispering back, "I don't want to bother her, she seems like she wants to be alone."
"...What happens when it's time for closing?"
"I hope she leaves by then," pouring the caramel tinted liquor over the block of ice as it cracked against the glass, she tucked a napkin beneath it before pushing it towards him.
"You hope? You know how emotional drunks are, Somin."
"Yeah yeah, I know I know, but she looks harmless."
"Looks," rolling his eyes, he took a sip of his drink as she ran the faucet, wetting her hands and retorting, "You know, I kicked your drunk ass out of here all by myself, Jaebeom. You have no idea what I'm capable of."
"Ooo, scary," feigning a shocked expression, he stole another glance at you, your head propped up from your palm, your elbow a makeshift stand against the counter. It wouldn't be a stretch to say he knew how you felt, a man with a mess of a relationship track record where he was notorious for giving a little too much for those who never gave enough. But he wasn't one to impose on others, he told himself, so he simply observed you.
"Besides, today is her birthday."
"...You're joking."
"Nope," Somin lifted the license that was in her possession to hold the tab before reading the month and date out.
"How can you be sad on your birthday?" It's sort of rhetoric, but in many ways, it left an acrid taste in the back of his throat knowing just how many melancholy birthdays he had spent — probably more than his current lifetime. Taking another sip of his drink, he wondered what kind of night you had that led you here, somewhere full of people but longing for solitude. You were traveling through your own daydreams, though, whimpering by yourself and unable to notice that there was another individual at the bar, even with how deeply he stared at you — or even the other two that were approaching you from behind.
"Hey! You know everyone was looking for you," the acquaintance of yours who you still could not manage to name happened to find you for the second time that night. Your rationale was running low, however, and had you not been wearing waterproof makeup layered beneath a waterfall of setting sprays and baked on powder, perhaps she would have seen how tormented you truly were, "They left already, but if you want, my boyfriend and I have a table!"
Something about the new strangers that approached the frame suggested to Jaebeom that these weren't your friends, your body language warping in discomfort. The dried tears were preparing to resurface as you straightened yourself out, hoisting in your throat, a polite way to decline without turning int a sobbing mess. Your boyfriend, huh? You had so many questions you wanted to ask, these words you could not find swimming in the depth of your skull between the cocktails and old, meaningless song lyrics. Your inquiries fall into your hands and slip past like snow, disappearing at your touch. You must have stayed quiet too long because you see your acquaintance's face light up, "Oh! Speaking of which, where is your boyfriend?" Craning her head around excitedly, it takes all your strength not to let your jaw fall open. Teeth clenched, you cursed whoever mentioned to her that you were seeing someone, and even more fervently that they failed to include that you had stopped seeing him.
Jaebeom wasn't one to eavesdrop — nearly always disassociated to his surroundings — but he had heard more than enough. Reading beyond just this interaction, he had a few assumptions that he could safely make. Honestly, he definitely didn't have enough to drink just yet to attempt the brewing plot he had patchworked together in his mind, but perhaps he felt pity for you. There was something familiar about your feelings and how they surfaced, so in some ways, he thought of it as saving himself. Downing the rest of his glass of whisky, he stood up and strode over towards where you were, affectionately running his fingers up your arm and around your shoulders, "Are these your friends?"
"...Wait! Oh my God why didn't you say you were dating the lead singer?!" The tone of her voice is absolutely thrilled and starstruck but you're unable to register what is going on, the amount of liquid depressant in your system truly slowing every moment down. The only thing you capture is the face of your ex contorting with some tinge of disgust you are unable to quite fathom. Unsure if it was directed towards you or your acquaintance's reaction, you peered up at the stranger who was holding you — ready to deny his claim and inform him that he had the wrong person.
"You didn't introduce me, love?" Looking directly at you, the jolt of his gaze is so immersive you felt your breath diminish — unsure if it left your lungs or simply combusted, "...Sorry."
You're not even sure why you apologized.
"No wonder you didn't want to sit with everyone!" Having a conversation all on her own, you're unable to figure out a way to evaporate, so focused on wanting to disappear at this very moment as if manifesting your wishes would be instantaneous. The discomfort of the heated glare Jaebeom felt from the other male confirmed his suspicions — that's who she's crying over huh. But according to this interaction, it seems they're the only ones who knew of their secret. So he played along.
"I have one more set to play, can you wait for me?" You simply nodded in response, suddenly deaf and mute to your surroundings, particularly because of the way he created this energy around you that made you feel so overwhelmed with warmth and focus, it emulated the flare of sun when your eyes just didn't quite dilate enough. Watching the stranger trail back up the stage, your acquaintance and ex had disappeared back into the crowd, while you replayed the events as if you were watching someone else in your mind.
The velvety vocals that matched the nylon strums yanked your haggard thoughts that were swimming in the volatile pit of your core sloshing with flammables, recapturing your dazed confusion. Though you had vaguely remembered enjoying the vocalist's performance earlier — or what you could manage to recall from it — the shapes and color from the sounds spun more effortlessly in your mind, your focus long gone from your self pity and now redirected to the honey dipped tones of the stranger. You both captured one another's gaze as you felt an elusive moment where the spotlight carried on his presence amongst the crowded bar, hazed with smoke and laughter that wasn't meant for anyone in particular. There must have been something in your drink, because you swore you were going to be sick with the onslaught of this rush. Thank God you were well trained in autopilot, if there was a degree for it you'd have the highest prestige. Before the end of the last song, you managed to crawl out of your trance — barely — while your body carried you towards the exit.
Trudging through the crowd proved to be more difficult than you initially anticipated as the wave crashed towards the barricade of the stage. The shortness of breath that constrained your throat and lungs confused and manipulated your directional sense, every time you managed to spot the blaring neon sign that led back outside, you lost it between the swarms of people. It really didn't help that your vision was an impressionable vertigo from your reckless regard to how much you could actually handle drinking. It felt like you were swimming, except the current was stronger than you were — waded through the crowd like a piece of mere driftwood and much less like a person. You empathized with the emptiness of the inanimate object though, stumbling along before feeling your arm hooked by a firm hand right as you managed to escape the labyrinth swarm, "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"
It seemed so much harsher than it sounded, but you were relieved there was some sort of humanity between the sea of people. You had been told long before that sometimes things that were desperately trying to be seen, would be, even if they weren't in plain sight, "I need to go."
"You owe me one," the singer gently dropped your arm as you shifted your weight between your heels, awkwardly, unable to figure out a proper response between the repetitive numbness of the beating drum against your skull and the fact that his gaze was just as warm now as it was earlier.
"Look, I appreciate it, really, what you did back there," vaguely gesturing towards the bar you took a short step back, "But I really need to go."
Honestly, Jaebeom would have let you go had he not watched you be jostled between the crowd during your attempted leave. At this point, he questioned if you knew just how drunk you were, the pupils of your eyes blown to a pretty deep dilation but painted with a backdrop of red he assumed came from the dehydration and your cry fest from earlier.
"Where?"
You don't know how to answer him, "...Just, just anywhere, not here."
"Then let's go together, Cinderella."
You liked to think that the amount of loneliness outnumbered your logical reasoning one hundred — no, one thousand to one. There were no fronts to put up because this was a complete stranger who didn't even know your name but his recognition seemed to be just high enough that if something were to happen to you, there would be no way he could simply disappear from the consequences. Your decision to trust him is rather vague, but you don't have the ability to really question it. It doesn't take you long to decide and he sees the flame of interested that burrowed into your pupils as you both disappear backstage and out the door towards the parking lot where you see some of his bandmates loading up a van full of their equipment and instruments.
"Let me take the car," directed towards them, he helped lift an amp into the trunk before one of them scoffed, "Hell no. You're not going off to get laid this time, Jaeb."
Other than the two conversing, you heard laughter and couldn't help but feel the infectious spark that coaxed you to do so too even if you were the butt of the joke, technically. Eyes rolling, the singer nudged him aside as they took apart a mic stand together, "I'm not, I wanted to get her home."
The sudden looks you received from every band member had you awkwardly pulling the hem of your skirt down as you tittered in place, trying to keep still but your vision still hazy.
"You know if you're so jealous of Jaebeom getting laid, maybe you should try singing, you always say the lead singer is the one that gets it in," a different person attempted to continue the joke while you swung you bag in front of you, letting it tap at your knees. So his name is Jaebeom.
"Seriously, please? It's her birthday—"
"...Oh?" They simultaneously looked at you again as you flinched in place, half paying attention to the conversation but mostly just listening to the chattering of those who stepped out for a smoke, "...Huh?" Registering what they were talking about, your brows knit in confusion, "Wait, how did you know it was my birthday?"
"You forgot to pick up your bar tab, sweetheart," Jaebeom held your license up between his thumb and index, waving it around as you suddenly felt your lungs crash into the pit of your stomach. As if this night couldn't get any worse, you really were making yourself out to be the best fool you could concoct. Whether or not you decided it was a good idea to have followed him, you realize now that it wouldn't have mattered because he had your ID. Though, he didn't seem hostile? Or so you hoped.
Finally given a set of surrendered keys, you climbed into the small two door with Jaebeom as the others told you both to be safe and ushered you away, "No more pretty girls exclusively for you after tonight, Jaeb!" The comment had left your cheeks flushed, hidden only beneath the well applied makeup. After dropping your license into your lap, he pulled out onto the main street while you peered at him curiously, "...You're not holding my ID for, I mean, as a...As hostage?"
"Why would I do that?" Wrinkling his nose, he stole a glance at you before laughing and rolling the windows down to let the warm evening air waft in while you slipped the card onto one of the pockets of your clutch, "...You came along all on your own, didn't you?"
And the flush on your face must have deepened, whether you could spot it or not, you felt it. Well, it was either that or the alcohol spiking in your system as you felt your mouth go dry and that tunneled dizziness set in hard while in the moving vehicle. Jaebeom must have noticed because he kept peering at you, gently placing a hand on your knee as you got quiet, "Hey, you good?"
"...I feel sick."
Not wanting to make a mess out of the communal car, you waved him away as he cursed beneath his breath. Obviously not at you, but the fact that it was getting late and that left him with fewer options to help remedy the situation. Of course he should have listened to Somin when she offered him to take some water along, but that honestly was even before he found you wandering the crowd with no way out. Pulling up to the side of a convenience store, he murmured a curt "be right back" and before long, returned with a small bag of items. The only thing he handed you was a massive water bottle longer than your forearm before instructing you to drink. Propping the passenger door open, you simply nodded while taking shallow sips. The soft bell of your phone perked your ears as you unzipped your clutch and, right before your eyes, watched the device somersault from the safety of your bag and onto the pavement. Wincing, Jaebeom flinched from the sudden crash and your whimpering before asking if you were alright.
"...Yeah, but," with a soft cry, you lifted the now shattered screen of your phone to show him the damage you caused from your clumsiness.
"Would you like to use mine?"
"Who the hell memorizes phone numbers in this day and age!" Tilting your head back against the car's rest, he found himself attempting not to vocalize a chuckle he desperately wanted to release. Your antics were rather cute, especially for someone who had drank themselves under, but he didn't want to add gas to the fire.
"...Well, it's still useable right now. I think. Would you like me to respond for you?"
"Who'sit from?"
Squinting at the lockscreen, he took a moment to formulate what the sender's name was between the cracks and chipped glass, "Kyungah?"
That was her name, Kyungah. That bitch. But you stopped yourself. Was she? Honestly she probably had no idea the history you had with her boyfriend. Exhaling softly, you took another swig of water and secretly thanked that your phone was crushed.
"...Ignore it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, ignore it."
After half the water was consumed between your head tossing back and forth with your eyes shut while Jaebeom sat quietly beside you, you finally felt a sense of normalcy return. But that relief was only diminished by the suddenly embarrassing sound of your stomach croaking in hunger. Stiffening, you tried to rush out a response as the engine turned, "Cool, I'm hungry too."
How you two end up in this retro western themed diner is beyond you, but it was open, nearby, and it seemed clean enough. The cherry red interior somehow helped perpetuate a sobering ritual that was calming you between its glitter and chrome finish. You can't remember what you ordered, but you're so caught up in how warm you feel again, but this time simply from the silence of your company. It's more welcoming than you'd felt in ages, and somehow it released the tension that you had been feeling for months, completely constrained in the worry of yourself. Even when Jaebeom finally broke the silence, it didn't feel like anything was taken from you, "...I'm assuming Kyungah was your friend at the bar." The way he said it hinted the term loosely as you shrugged, taking a sip of water, "Sort of."
"And I'm also, just assuming, that her boyfriend might be your crush or something like that?"
"Wow you found out all that from stealing my license?"
Biting back a grin, he shook his head in response, "I didn't steal it, you left it behind. And I mean, you practically showed it."
Slowly tipping your head back and forth, nodding in silence, you let out a soft sigh while contemplating what you wanted to tell him. Or rather, how much you wanted to tell him, "He's my ex." When the words leave your mouth, you feel a sense of liberation in a way you hadn't, even when you told yourself that many times over. When you woke up and recalled a dream that felt more like a memory and less like fantasy, when you came home and had to stop yourself from announcing your arrival. All these moments that piled up and reminded you that you were a singular entity, on your own, and though being alone didn't equate to loneliness, this was sadly not mutually exclusive in your current state. Perhaps it needed to be relinquished so you could feel that sense of release, it needed to be told to someone, anyone, so that you could finally stop causing your wound licking suffering.
"Ah, I see," hands folded in front of him, you offer him a smile even before you meet his gaze — afraid to see that stupid look of pity that you were dreading and why you held these words so close to you, even in the presence of your closest friends. But rather than that, you get a look of understanding, the expression of someone who wanted to listen. There was no sorrowful sympathy or pained empathy, there was only understanding.
You're so taken aback, you can't seem to form another word in relation to the subject before deciding to change it entirely, "You know you're carrying a bag bigger than mine?" Gesturing towards the crossbody that was slumped beside him in the booth, he peered over at it before laughing.
"Why didn't you leave it in the car?"
"Because the stuff I picked up at the store while I was getting you water shouldn't be left in the car."
"...What's inside?"
"A surprise."
The food arrived, consumed — mostly by Jaebeom to your surprise, my God that man could eat, and plates departed between a few short stories about nothing really at all, and somehow you weren't quite ready to leave. You realized that the company was soothing and healing in a way self-isolation could never have been, and you regretfully felt apologetic to your friends' missed shopping outings and dinner dates, the endless brunch invites and parties that you could have been participating in, letting your mind drift and heal instead of letting the wounds fester out of control. So caught up in your thoughts and the individual ways you were planning to apologize to each friend that you had dismissed during this time, you don't realize the check had already arrived at the table and that Jaebeom was already prepared to return it.
"Oh wait! Hold on!" Grabbing your clutch, you opened it to your horror. Where was your wallet? Shifting around the stray receipts and your compact as if it would magically surface what you were looking for, you dug through frantically while the waiter took the folded checkbook. Lifting your head to look at Jaebeom with a confused expression, you began apologizing immediately.
"Don't worry about it, I was planning to pay anyways," pausing, he peered towards the edge of the table, "...Maybe you left it in the car?" Fishing the keys out from the pocket of his bag, he handed them to you as you rushed out to check. Scouring beneath the passenger and driver's seat — in case — you peeked at the floor on the off chance it may have been kicked to the back. Nothing under the car or around it, you leaned your forehead against the frame of the automobile in defeat, tapping your skull along as if it would make you generate your thoughts properly. You couldn't catch a damn break tonight.
"Did you find it?"
"No."
"I have a key to the bar, we can go back and check," Jaebeom began shrugging off his bag as he gently placed his palm at the center of your back, causing you to shiver at his fervent touch, "Don't get worked up over nothing, you know?"
Emitting a sigh, you nodded in agreement as you tugged at the handle. Surprise. You peered through the window to see the keys gingerly sitting on the driver's seat, all doors locked. Parting your lips, you can't even make a noise at this point, because you simply want to crawl into a hole and rot inside of it. Jaebeom only laughs, pulling you away from the car as he started down the street and back towards where the bar was, "...You know you could have just said you wanted to spend more time with me."
Almost completely silent for the next block, feeling as though your presence may have been a complete burden, you are proven wrong as you watch his hand direct your vision towards a building, "You know that cinema used to be a regular theatre?"
"...Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, when I was a kid, my stepdad had a little shop out front and he must have felt so bad during the summer when I got stuck helping him that he used to let me go see a movie like once a day," chuckling softly, you felt guilty for smiling at this shared memory, still so frustrated that you had to put him through such a night, "...They show art films here now right?"
"Yeah, nowadays," humming softly, only the sounds of both your steps ricochetting off the empty and barren sidewalk, you stopped when you saw a forsythia tree still in bloom. Jaebeom barely notices as he took a couple steps back to match with you, "Hm?"
"...It's kind of late for these to be in bloom," mumbling softly, you stared at the yolk colored blossoms illuminated only by the street lamps above.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, the green stays around but the flowers usually fall away..." neck craned as you wandered around the tree, he mimicked your action while observing the plant.
"You know a lot about this tree."
"I'm a florist."
"A flower artist."
Bursting out laughing, you nudge him gently, "Yeah, something like that." Both of you quiet back down, but this time, you felt less like a nuisance and more like you were strolling with a friend. Well he was kind of like your friend now, right? He even knew something none of your other friends knew.
"...Hey, I want to ask you something."
"Shoot."
"Do you really get laid that much?"
Swinging his head to face you, though still matching your short strides, his expression is plagued with shock. You're not quite sure if he'll answer you honestly or laugh.
"Are you still drunk?"
"No!" Smacking his arm, you tilt your head back as the laugh that came from your diaphragm swam up, "I mean it! Your friends said—"
"They say that any time any of us ends up grabbing attention, don't think about it too much."
Smiling, you continue, "And how do I know you're not lying?"
"Well we're just walking, aren't we?" His smirk could practically drown you.
"Ah, touche."
Creeping through the narrow alleyway, stumbled thumping up the metal steps, and through the back entrance, you hid your giggles behind your teeth. There was something that offered exhilaration, as if you weren't allowed to be here regardless of Jaebeom's key. Even after the mess of the evening you made at this very location only hours ago, it felt like there was something welcoming you as you both entered the dark end of the stage. Filtering the lights on, he led you towards the main hallway and into the bar.
"I'll wait for you here," wandering onto the stage, he collapsed his weight in the center before propping his arms back and reclining. It takes less than a minute for you to spot your wallet, jammed between a barstool and the counter at the corner you were taking salvation at. A breath of relief left you as crouched down and retrieved it, pushing it into your clutch as you went to return to the stage. Squinting from a distance, you wondered what Jaebeom was unfolding in his hands as scarlet wrappers were being discarded beside him. Flipping open a matchbook, you walked up the steps and saw several stacked Chocopies tiered up to resemble a cake. Coiling a paper around a match, you watch the flared light as he shoved it in the center of the highest tier before singing the soft, familiar song while clapping his hands for added percussion.
If it were any other time, you'd be rolling on the floor, laughing. But tonight, you felt like you needed exactly this. Settling beside him as he wrapped up the song, you closed your eyes and really did wish your hardest before blowing it out. You both clapped before he grabbed one of the pies and shoved the entire thing into your mouth, to your disgust and surprise. Taking one of your own and having a bite, you tucked your legs close to you, "...So this is why you carried such a big purse huh?"
Rolling his eyes while chewing, you imagined he had a good comeback for you, but he doesn't. Rather, he asked what you wished for. But you tell him it's a secret. After that, you can't really remember what else you both conversed about, but when you wake up against the stage you're reminded that you really can't make any of this any worse. But somehow, it is better than you expected, as you peer up and see the warm glow of what feels like the sun, waiting for you.
Your wish was that this would be the first of many birthdays to come where Jaebeom felt like summer, and summer never ended.
While I was reading through one of my poetry books, I felt some kind of pull. I decided to go ahead and attach it with a translation, in case you wanted to know where my inspiration came from:
종이배 하나 접어
Fold One Paper Boat
어제 내린 눈이 마지막 눈이길 바랍니다
I wish yesterday’s snow fall would be the last
지금 불어오는 바람이 마지막 북풍이길 바랍니다
I wish the wind blowing from the north would be the last
혹시 내가 그 마음 얼어붙게 한 적 있다면 이 제 용서하세요
If I ever froze your heart would you ever forgive me
봄빛 닿는 곳마다 눈부신 빛이 일어납니다
When the spring light reaches out and blinds you while it rises
강 위에 잠시 머물던 얼음 다 녹아 바다로 흘러가면
The ice that once was still on top of the river melts and flows into the ocean
물속에서 놀던 고기들과 만나 지난겨울 이야기 나누다가
As the water enters the ocean, meeting creatures, reminiscing about last winter
종이배 하나 접어 가만히 강물에 띄워 보내겠습니다
I will fold a paper boat and let it travel down the river and float to you
강물이 햇살 없이 저 혼자 그리 아름다운가요
Can that river be beautiful without sunlight
봄이 결울 없이 저 혼자 그리 눈부신가요
Can spring shine beautifully without winter
흘러흘러 그대에게 이르는 마음 아니라면
Flowing, flowing if my feelings don’t reach you
이 마음이 무슨 소용일까요
Then what’s the point of having feelings
#got7#got7 scenario#got7 scenarios#got7 imagines#got7 jayb#got7 jaebeom#jaebeom scenario#jaebeom scenarios#jaebeom imagines#jayb scenario#jayb scenarios#jayb imagines#jayb fluff#jayb angst#got7 fluff#got7 angst#got7 fanfic#got7 fanfics#got7 fan fic#got7 fan fics
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