#and hell i mean i matched his energy but like. shivers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zoloftbrainrot · 2 years

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scars <> chapter three

characters: sanemi x female reader

words: 1.5k

contains: mentions of self-harm, injuries, panic attack, very lightly smutty toward the end, 18+ MDNI

author’s note: sorry this took so long, having a depressive episode atm. we're finally getting into the juicy hurt/comfort and headed toward smut. hell yeah. there are manga spoilers abt sanemi's backstory here but nothing too wild. this was very lightly edited so send me an ask if you see anything glaring lol

read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41349609

Wisps of steam hung in the crisp morning air around you. You traced their erratic paths skyward as they rose from the hot spring in which you were submerged. Pain pricked at your thighs where you’d added new cuts to your constellation of scars — you knew you shouldn’t, but it was the only sensation that could shut down last night’s panic attack. At least you’d graduated from your wrists to a more… inconspicuous location. One where wandering eyes couldn’t really see how bad things had gotten.

Bad was an understatement. The panic attacks had gotten worse since the party at Tengen’s a few weeks ago. Something about Sanemi’s unexpected gentleness and concern for your past awakened a new sickness. Something fucked up happened to you. You’re dirty. Damaged goods. Unstable. They all know it. The best you could do was put on a brave face and avoid seeing him. His breath, hot and heavy, on your neck crossed your mind more than you’d like to admit and you just didn’t trust yourself to act normal around him. Truthfully, you weren’t sure how you’d react to seeing him again. Your subconscious seemed keen to betray you as of late — making you nauseated throughout the day, depriving you of sleep, and dulling your combat skills. Kagaya knew it, too. You’d only been sent on two missions since your outing with Sanemi. Both simple reconnaissance tasks that could have easily been done by a lower-ranked corps member. I’m falling apart. Why? Why now? I was so close to being better.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you sunk lower into the pool, and you closed your eyes to focus on the aqueous sounds and birdsong around you.

“Hey. Thought I’d find you here.”

You snapped out of your trance and hurriedly wiped the tears from your face, hoping the steam obscured them from view. Before you, Sanemi knelt at the edge of the spring, dangling a cautious foot into the water and studying your expression. Shit.

“Oh, I’m, I was just about to leave, actually,” you stuttered, pushing yourself up to stand.

“Don’t give me that shit, y/n. Why are you avoiding me?” His lowered eyes conveyed a mix of annoyance and worry.

You shrugged and gestured awkwardly with your hands, “I’m not! I’ve just been… busy. And tired.”

Sanemi’s gaze wandered down your dripping body, pausing at your thighs, where he narrowed his eyes on the angry red lines traversing the pale skin.

“What is that?” He said, more as a statement than a question.

Great. Just what I need.

“I just scraped myself when I fell on the stairs earlier. It’s nothing.” You turned your back to him, quickly reaching for your haori on the pool’s edge.

Sanemi was always quicker. He leapt across the water to snatch the haori away, grasping your wrist firmly in the process. You were frozen in place, feet still in the water, just inches from his chest again.

“Stop it. Please. I want to know what’s going on, y/n.”

“Why can’t you just let me deal with things?!” You snapped.

He matched your energy, quickly losing his composure. “Because you’re clearly not dealing with it. You look awful, y/n. I know you’re not eating or sleeping — you’re fucking shivering in a hot spring for fuck’s sake! And, c’mon, really? You fell on the stairs? Do you think I’m stupid and blind?”

You hadn’t even noticed your body trembling and goosebumps blanketing your skin. He’s right. But he’s fucking mean.

“I know. I know I’m a piece of shit. I’m unfit to be in the corps. I don’t want to be like this either. But I am, Sanemi. I’m fucking broken!” You screamed at him, fresh tears flowing freely as you tried to wrestle out of his grasp.

His violet eyes glistened with tears of his own. He leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper, “I didn’t say any of that, y/n. I would never.”

Something deep inside you broke. You let your knees give out, fully collapsing into Sanemi’s arms as your body was wracked by sobs. He gingerly held you, so careful not to make you claustrophobic or smothered. His scent of cypress and lychee invaded your senses as you took in shaky breaths. He pressed his forehead to yours, “Can we sit in the water? I did actually want to relax and talk with you for a bit,” his tone was markedly lighter and gentle.

Sinking back into the spring, you told him, albeit vaguely. No, I’m not well. I don’t know how to handle people being concerned about me. No one cared about me for a long time. In fact, people went out of their way to hurt me and violate me. I don’t feel like a person anymore.

Sanemi would never admit it, but he’d taken a liking to you. At your best, your skills rivaled even the current hashira. You could take his biting sarcasm and dish it right back. He could see in you the same pain his mother and siblings faced at the hands of his own father. It both sickened and softened him. And, gods, you had the same stupid habit of tearing yourself apart, alone.

“I do stupid shit. Act without thinking — actually, take that back, I know it’s more dangerous than it needs to be. Most of these scars aren’t even from difficult fights. I just wanted to get hurt.” He mused darkly, tracing over his own marks under the water.

“At least you got something productive out of it. Another demon, gone. I just, fuck, it’s just selfish.” You took another shaky breath, eyes glazed over, looking blankly at the canopy of trees above you.

“But it stops the thoughts, huh?” Sanemi echoed.

Oh. So he does know.

You asked gently, “What are yours like?”

In truth, the memory that stuck out to Sanemi was that awful coldness. Even splattered in a horrifying mixture of his mother’s blood and his own, the only things he could think of were how cold she must be as she evaporated, how cold the knife he held was, how cold the bodies of his siblings were as he held them. That day, warmth was ripped out of his soul and replaced with emptiness. And at night, when the ice in his veins roused him from sleep, he craved pain. Anything to stop the unending replay of Genya’s voice: You killed her?! You killed mom??

Here, with you, he pressed firmly on one of his fresh abdominal scabs from a recent fight. The light sting was enough to soothe him.

Through gritted teeth, he said plainly, “I think about the day I killed my mom.”

You’d heard the story from Genya before. The terror in his expression alone was enough as he recounted it.

“I can’t imagine what that was like.” Your voice was timid, barely above a whisper.

“I can’t imagine what your fucking master was like. The injuries at Shinobu’s the first time were…” he trailed off, remembering the sight of you, unconscious in the infirmary, as he was stitched up after a mission.

“You saw that?”

“Yeah. Twice, actually. You were in and out for awhile.”

It made sense. He was regularly getting treated at Shinobu’s estate for some injury.

The conversation seemed to have Sanemi lost in his thoughts. Silence distanced the two of you, interrupted by the occasional bird or splash of water. It was a while before he spoke again.

“Anyway. You don’t have to suffer by yourself. We’re all fucked. You gotta let it out sometimes, dumbass.” His voice had returned to playful sarcasm, attempting to liven the heavy mood.

The intimacy of your conversation was, admittedly, getting to you. No. We’re not doing this. You can’t just fuck anyone that gives you attention. It was a terrible side effect of being touch-starved. You simultaneously yearned for touch and were repulsed by it, but gods, both feelings were so intense. It was like the second you bared your darkness to someone, you felt the need to soften the blow with some kind of…reward. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, screwing your eyes shut, and begging your brain to think of anything else. For fuck’s sake.

Sanemi snorted at your flustered appearance. “I mean, shit, I wasn’t thinking of that kind of letting it out.”

You let out a frustrated groan, tossing your head back. “My face really gives everything away, huh?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t say you’re the best at hiding your feelings, dumbass.”

The cockiness in his voice was accentuated by his sudden change in posture, locking his hands behind his head and pushing his chest out.

Two could play that game. You rolled your eyes and put on a coquettish demeanor. Fuck it. If he’s into it, so am I. “Well, neither are you, Sanemi.” You grinned devilishly, slinking toward him in the water with your hands headed straight for his thighs.

“Oi, what’s that supposed to — oh, oh fuck…” He threw his head back with a breathy sigh as you palmed his length, rapidly hardening under your touch.

“You’re a nasty little minx, y/n.”

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read chapter two here <> read chapter four here {in progress}

taglist @drowsydoggy @ilovespideyyy @thalaxnaa + comment or message if you’d like to be added

#sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi angst #kny #kny fanfic #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #angst #hurt/comfort #zoloft posts #sanemi is soft sometimes

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dontfeeltoohot · 2 years

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EDDIES BIRTHDAY WEEKEND - OCTOBER 31ST / HALLOWEEN

And so it begins! Here is 8k of Eddie starting to actually not feel well, plus carving pumpkins and a fall festival!! I hope you guys enjoy!

Eddie wakes up in a daze, feeling hazy and bleary, like somehow he’s brought the fog from the haunted houses they’d been at last night, home with him. Blinking, he takes a moment just to lay in bed, listening to Steve’s slow, sleepy breaths next to him. Remembering what day it is, the man smiles, and rubs at his eyes. Halloween is the best day of the year in his book. Sure his birthday is cool too, but Halloween means dressing up, watching horror movies, getting candy, and scaring people without repercussions (for the most part). Getting up quietly and letting Steve sleep, he pads to the bathroom to start his morning routine.

An hour later, it’s becoming apparent to the musician that he’s not feeling like himself, maybe not sick, but his usual energy and dramatics are lacking. Though his blood glucose and insulin levels are normal, he feels oddly lethargic as he cooks eggs and bacon; despite Steve’s protests that he shouldn’t cook on his birthday, for his group of friends. As he stands in front of the stove, his boyfriend comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his slender frame.

“You excited for today, birthday boy?” His breath is hot against Eddie’s ear and cheek, earning him a smile and shiver.

“Mhm, definitely. We’re going to that downtown festival thing tonight, right?”

“That’s the plan! Did you still wanna carve pumpkins and stuff too? We can put on Halloween while we do it,” Steve suggests softly, nuzzling Eddie’s curls.

“I’m down for that. Chrissy sucks at carving, it’s always super entertaining to watch.”

“I do not,” a voice calls from the living room, where both women are waiting patiently for their breakfast.

“Sure, because last year you didn’t absolutely massacre the poor pumpkin,” Eddie shoots back, rolling his eyes fondly. “So pumpkin carving, movies, then festival. Sounds like a great birthday. Are we dressing up or anything for tonight? And if so, are we doing matching stuff?”

Out of all the things that have slipped his mind, costumes seem to be top of the list. The idea of going out to a party store to find something seems daunting, but if the other three express interest in wanting to get something more elaborate, he’ll go along for the ride. They start throwing out ideas almost immediately, as the bacon finishes cooking and Eddie puts everyone's eggs on their plates.

“I think we should do matching,” Steve grins, and Eddie knows that being cheesy is right up his boyfriend's alley.

“Yeah, matching could be fun! We could do all of us, like from a movie or something,” Robin nods as she finds her seat, looking at the food hungrily.

“Wizard of Oz? Flinstones? Mario and the gang?” Chrissy starts thinking, stealing a piece of bacon from the tray Eddie sets down.

“Oooh, or The Incredibles? We’d all look hot in spandex,” Robin stabs at the eggs on her plate, making a god awful slurping noise.

“Can you not,” Steve shoots her a grimace before narrowing his eyes in thought. “Addams Family could work, or Scooby Doo,” he throws out.

“While all three of you have cute ideas, I think I have a better one, and I’m the birthday boy, so what I say goes,” the grin he gives has his boyfriend groaning.

“This better not be like when we went as Tonks and Sirius,” Chrissy groans.

Eddie can’t help but smile at the memory from a few years back, when he’d abandoned his usual horror movie costume to go with Chrissy to some party she’d been invited to. They’d been a hit, and the musician had been able to conjure up a surprisingly realistic british accent the entire night. His best friend had informed him later, as he’d been on his way to drop her at her place, that numerous girls had come up to her asking if he was single. If that wasn’t an ego boost, he wasn’t sure what was, even if he was gay as hell.

“Nope! It’s going to be twenty times better.”

All three look at him while he swallows some of his breakfast, before Robin finally caves, looking at him with curious expression.

“Out with it!”

“The masterpiece that is The Shining,” the long haired man’s grin is bordering on manic.

They’ve all seen it of course, thanks to Eddie himself pushing it on them. It’s one of his absolute favorite movies ever made, and he’s pretty sure he could wax poetic about it for hours. Back in high school he’d even written an essay for his stupid english class. He watches the three of them all share a glance.

“But…who’s going to be who? There’s only one woman in it,” Chrissy cocks her head much like a puppy would.

“That’s where you’re wrong, darling Cunningham. There are three, well…more than that if you count the very beginning. But I digress. There are three that matter. And you two will be the twins,” he flashes a big, bright smile, looking pleased with himself.

“Then…who’s going to be the wife?” Steve’s brow is furrowed in a way that makes Eddie want to kiss it.

“I will, of course.”

The reaction he’s been hoping for comes to fruition. Steve all but chokes on the water he’s sipping, Chrissy’s eyebrows raise comically high, and Robin snorts but looks just as excited as he is. Rubbing his boyfriend's back, the long haired man gets in his space, pressing his face up to the other’s cheek, dropping a quick kiss, still smiling.

“And Steve will be Jack, obviously,” he adds as an afterthought. “This way it’s easy for us and we don’t have to look for actual costumes, we can just get regular clothes.”

In reality, it’s logical and smart, and after a few moments, the group seems to agree with the reasoning. Steve and Chrissy both grab their phones, scrolling as they eat to figure out what they’ll need exactly. As Eddie finishes his food, he excuses himself to go and change his infusion set. Grabbing his supplies, the man carefully takes his current set out, disposing of the needle and cannula properly. After wiping the new area on his lower abdomen that he plans on putting his pump with an alcohol swab, he uses the applicator to insert his infusion set.

Normally, Eddie’s able to do it with no problems, he’s been doing it for twenty years give or take, and it’s like riding a bike at this point, so easy he can do it in his sleep. Today, however, he messes up, wincing when the starter needle catches painfully, not at the right angle to slide in easily. Swallowing, his head starting to ache, the guitarist blinks and throws the set away, grabbing a new one, grimacing. It’s like throwing money down the drain.

The second attempt is worse, and his hands shake as he gets frustrated, yanking the starter needle out. He glares at it as if it’s personally offended him, then throws it into the trash next to the other one. Huffing, Eddie sets down the cannula and his pump, letting it hit the white bathroom counter loudly. A moment later, his friends are there, crowding the door frame which only makes him more anxious.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to fucking die, is what’s wrong, Steven,” Eddie all but growls, bouncing on the balls of his feet, feeling restless. “I can’t get my stupid shit to work right, and I’ve wasted two kits, a-“

“Hey, okay, take a breath. Getting all worked up isn’t going to help, alright?” Steve puts a hand on his shoulder.

Instantly, as if the younger man’s hand is magic, Eddie deflates, moving closer so he can rest his head on Steve’s shoulder a moment. His skin feels stretched thin as he stands there, and his emotions feel too close, too sensitive, like if someone says one wrong thing to him he might burst out in tears.

“I can help you, if Steve isn’t sure how to do it,” Chrissy offers, having helped him more than enough times.

Steve bites at his lip, then nods.

“Yeah, I’ve never done it, but I can watch you, so I know what to do next time,” he suggests, looking a little upset with himself that he’s not sure how.

“Don’t worry princess, it’s easy,” Eddie says before rolling his eyes. “Well…it’s supposed to be easy if I could get myself to do the right thing.”

Chrissy gives him a look, then maneuvers them so Steve will be able to see everything she’s doing. She walks him through the steps, even goes as far as to have him hold the applicator and push down. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as Eddie expects it to for someone who’s never done it before, and his body releases any stress he’s been holding. By the end of it, Eddie’s got himself hooked up again, and Steve looks proud of himself. A win win.

“We need to go to the store and grab some clothes and pumpkins,” Robin says when they’ve all congregated back into the main space of Eddie’s apartment.

For once, Eddie doesn’t feel like going. He’s not sure if it’s from the stress of getting his pump back in, or the exhaustion that’s still clinging to his bones, but the thought of heading into any store right now sounds draining. Sniffling a little, nose runny no doubt from allergies, the musician almost bows out, is so close he even opens his mouth, but snaps it back shut a moment later, realizing he doesn’t want to waste time he could be spending with Chrissy, or Robin, or Steve. It’s Halloween, for christ sake, and they all deserve to have a fun time. While the girls work on getting ready, Steve finds Eddie in the bedroom, leading him to sit.

“I wanna give you your present,” the barista murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Oh?”

“Yep. Gimme one sec.”

Eddie waits, trying his hardest not to be impatient. He’s always had trouble with waiting for things, and while half of him knows Steve didn’t even need to get him anything, the other half is excited to see what it is. A minute later, Steve walks back in with a box that’s definitely been wrapped by the man, a little wrinkled, but far better than some generic, perfect wrapped box. He sets it down on Eddie's lap and then smiles.

“It’s not huge, and I can always change it if you don’t like it, b-”

“Stevie…I’m going to love it okay? Come sit?”

Steve sits next to him as he slowly unwraps the paper, using the same care as when he opens Wayne’s cards. When he gets the wrapping off, he opens the top of the flimsy cardboard box and grins. Inside is a soft looking black sweater, folded neatly, a wrapped rectangle that Eddie assumes is a DVD, and then another wrapped item, the shape reminding him of a jewelry box. Upon inspection, the sweater is as soft as he’s imagined, and he picks it up, rubbing his face against it.

“Does it pass the Munson seal of softness?”

“Definitely, thanks Stevie.”

Unwrapping the second item, Eddie can’t help but beam, the director’s cut of Midsommar is the one movie he’s been wanting on DVD for months. He presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek and then finally unwraps the last, smaller box. It is, in fact, a jewelry box. Curious, the long haired man opens it slowly, then finds a dark silver chain holding a hand-welded silver guitar pick at the end. Flipping it between his fingers, he reads ‘Type 1’ on the back and feels himself blink, eyes burning.

“Steve, it’s perfect. I love it, thank you,” he breathes out, burying his face into Steve’s shoulder.

Slipping the chain over his head, he lets it dangle off of his chest, keeping it outside of his sweater instead of tucking it inside, wanting everyone to see it.

Half an hour later, after showers, makeup and Eddie whining dramatically for the girls to hurry up, they’re piling into Steve’s car once again. The eldest looks out the window as they make their way to the store, his head a little heavy and; the only way he can describe it, swimmy. The music Robin’s playing through the speakers has his head beating in time with the drum, and he’s tempted to turn it down, but doesn’t want to ruin her fun.

Heading inside, Steve wraps an arm around his boyfriend's waist, bumping his hip playfully. Eddie smiles and brushes some hair away from Steve’s forehead that’s fallen in the midst of his antics. Both Chrissy and Robin head to the women's section to see if they’re able to find blue dresses they can smear red dye onto, giggling happily. The guys walk back to the mens section, even if Eddie needs a dress too, deciding to get Steve’s stuff out of the way.

“You need a green plaid shirt, and a red jacket,” Eddie recalls, looking around for a green gingham button down for himself.

While browsing the options, Steve finds him once again, suckering himself to the older man's back, before nuzzling his shoulder. It feels weirdly nice, the affection, especially out in public. He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself to have voyeuristic tendencies, but getting to show people that Steve is his? He can get into that.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you,” Steve murmurs, trailing along with Eddie, their fingers laced together. “You’re okay right? Like..you just seem a little off today, I guess. Maybe that’s not the right word,” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m good,” Eddie furrows his brow, watching his boyfriend.

He is good, right? He’s been a little emotional, sure, but birthday’s do that to a lot of people. And yeah he feels worn down, but the guitarist has been working a lot, pulling longer hours to take more clients, he’s been rehearsing with the band. Plus he’s been giving every other bit of attention he can to the man in front of him, so it makes sense he’s stretched thin and tired. Steve seems to mull Eddie’s answer over, looking unconvinced. The look on his face is so scarily similar to Chrissy’s that he blinks to make sure he’s not imagining it.

“I’m okay Stevie, really. I guess I’m kind of tired from all the stuff that’s been going on the past week, but I’m okay. Nothing some good old Halloween fun can’t fix.”

This answer seems to satisfy the brunette more, and Steve nods, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he leans against him. Eddie squeezes his hand and lets them stand there in the clothing section for a moment, just taking each other's presence in. When someone walks by, they finally pull apart, both laughing quietly.

“Okay Harrington, let's find you this damn jacket. We need to get you a fake ax, and I need a baseball bat.”

By the time they reconnect with the girls, they’ve got mostly everything. The only thing Eddie still needs is the brown corduroy dress. Robin, conveniently, is holding one in her hands, eyes sparkling. Taking it, he looks it over, trying to figure out if it’ll even fit. Sure he’s got a tiny waist, but his shoulders are still broad.

“Go try it on babe,” Steve looks at playfully.

Two minutes later, Eddie’s walking out in nothing but the corduroy jumper, pale legs fully on display, his black crew socks hiding half of his shins and feet. Chrissy snaps a photo subtly, but Eddie notices and glares. It’s not that he hates himself in a dress, dresses are cool and men used to wear them all the time. No, it’s the fact that he’s in only the dress, no tights or even a shirt underneath the almost overall like covering.

“I swear to god Christina,” he snarks at the strawberry blonde, who rolls her eyes.

“Oh relax, Edward, they’re for my own personal enjoyment. And Steve’s,” she snickers.

“Don’t bring me into this,” Steve shakes his head but then gives Eddie a smile, eyes roaming up and down his frame.

“Like what you see Stevie?” Big eyes widening, he gives his boyfriend a soft, almost doe-like look, the picture of faux-innocence.

“You always look hot, baby.”

Robin pushes the cart around and they grab four good sized pumpkins, along with some candy. Eddie isn’t normally much of a candy eater, not because he can’t have it, but because it requires more planning around everything he eats during the day. Looking at the options while Chrissy throws sour patch kids in the cart and Steve picks up a bag of twix, the tattoo artist finally lands on milky way, grabbing the dark chocolate ones instead of the regular milk chocolate kind. He sets them in the cart and laughs as Robin carries over three different bags full of assorted sugary goodness.

“Got enough there Buckley?”

“I just want us to have an array to choose from!”

The four walk slowly past some of the autumn home decor, Chrissy in particular eyeing some of the things with a glint in her eye. As Eddie tells himself to let her enjoy the feeling of moving and getting to redecorate, a tickle blooms in his sinuses. Scrunching his nose up, the feeling only increases, and he pulls the neck hem of his shirt up, angling his face down into it.

“hihGkTSCHew! iieGKshuhew! ih’KgtSShhEW!”

“Bless you!”

“Bless you Eddie!”

Both girls direct blessings towards him, while Steve squeezes his hand, cheeks slightly pink as he watches his boyfriend intently. Eddie’s about to thank them, about to smirk at his boyfriend and give him a playful wink, but his nose isn’t done, it seems to still want his attention. Noticing how many people are milling about, he shifts so he’s turned more towards Steve, face once again angled down the neck of his shirt.

“ihGKktew! hngKT-huh! iihGkT’uhew!”

The last sneeze shakes something loose, causing congestion to flood into his head. Sniffling doesn’t seem to do anything, and pressure is now sitting behind his eyes like a lead balloon. God he hates stifling, it always makes his head swim. Rubbing his face, he realizes Steve’s still holding onto his hand tightly, while the girls have moved closer to the home decor.

“Bless you baby, you okay? Your allergies bothering you?” Steve’s eyes are wide and round, and he looks like he wants to push him against a wall and kiss him senseless.

Eddie wouldn’t be too opposed.

“Yeah, I’m-snfSNF! I’m good,” he swipes his wrist up against his nostrils, blowing out a breath.

The rest of the trip consists of Robin throwing a little bat plush into the cart that she sees, claiming Eddie needs it, Chrissy picking up a soft blanket for her new soon-to-be place, and Eddie sniffling more and more, smirking at the way Steve stays extra-close. As he pays for his stuff, the long haired man swipes a hand down his face and coughs into his arm, his allergies apparently bothering him more than he thought.

Steve’s watching him as he picks up his receipt and Robin thrusts the little black bat into his arms. He can feel himself smiling more than he intends, but the thing is so soft and squishy and the little ears are two-toned. How can anyone not enjoy that? He holds the little guy close while walking to the car, sitting him on his lap once they’re all in and buckled. If his friends think it’s dorky, they don’t say anything- though he’s fairly certain Buckley has a bunch of these things too, and he knows Chrissy has a stuffed puppy she’s slept with since she was a baby. Does Steve have some kind of comfort item? He himself used to have a ratty polar bear named Jaws, but he’d gotten nasty enough from being dragged everywhere that he finally came fully apart. Ten year old Eddie had cried every night for a week before he finally got used to being companion-less.

“Stevie, have you ever had a stuffed animal or anything?”

Steve’s face does something like he’s trying hard to remember. It makes Eddie squirm slightly, knowing Steve can’t recall off of the top of his head.

“I think I had this little duck when I was a kid? I can kind of remember it, but I’m pretty sure my dad took it away once I turned like five or six, since it was a kids toy or whatever,” he shrugs, and god Eddie wants to give Steve a big hug and twenty duck stuffed animals.

Chrissy makes a wounded noise behind them, and Robin lets out a huff.

“God I hate your dad,” she grumbles, and Steve can’t help but snort.

“You and me both Robs.”

Interesting, Eddie thinks, staring out the window. His pointer finger rubs over the bat's purple ear absentmindedly as he thinks about Steve and the fact his father seems like a douche-canoe. He gets it, his dad is a literal murderer, and he hates that Steve’s childhood had obviously been less than ideal. At least he’d had Wayne. He gets the feeling his boyfriend didn’t have anyone like that.

Wrinkling his nose when he feels it run, Eddie snatches a tissue out of the little middle compartment where Steve keeps them, blowing quietly. He can’t help the grimace that passes his features when the result is far more productive than he’s been planning for, grabbing another to press against the one already up against his nose. He really doesn’t feel all that allergic aside from the congestion, and even the sneezes back at the store hadn’t felt like his normal allergy-induced ones. Balling the tissues up and putting them in his jacket pocket, he gives his boyfriend a little smile when he notices the pink blush on his face again.

“I’m cute, I know,” Eddie jokes cheekily, making Steve playfully hit his leg.

“Yeah yeah, you’re almost unbearably cute.”

“Ugh, you guys need to stop with the sappy talk,” Robin interjects, making a fake gagging noise.

“We’ve been putting up with you and Chris being all over each other,” Steve shoots back, looking far from impressed.

The way Steve calls Chrissy ‘Chris’ makes Eddie grin. He’s known from the start that his two new friends would get along with his best friend, and obviously he’s been more worried about Steve than Robin simply because they’re dating, but it’s nice, hearing the nickname fall so easily out of the man's mouth. By the time they park and are heading back up to the apartment, the pumpkins in the musicians arms feel more like fifty pound weights. Setting them down on the kitchen table, Eddie brushes hair out of his face and coughs into his arm lightly, not taking notice of Steve and Chrissy sharing a look.

“Okay, I’ll get some paper or something to put down so pumpkin guts don’t go everywhere, and then we can start,” Eddie hums thoughtfully, trying to remember where the paper he has is.

The musician comes back two minutes later with a large stack of printer paper. Steve’s getting Halloween pulled up, while the girls are grabbing knives. Robin is holding his largest, sharpest chef’s knife, making him grab it quickly.

“Why is it I don’t trust you with this one?” He jokes playfully, wanting her to know he doesn’t think she’ll actually hurt anyone, just that she’s the clumsiest girl he’s ever met.

“I am an excellent knife-wielder, Munson,” the freckle-faced woman shoots back, making him laugh.

He’s not entirely sure that’s true, and he doesn’t feel like finding out anytime soon.

They all settle in, one on each side of the table, starting to work on getting the innards of the pumpkins out, putting it all in trash bags. By the time they start to actually carve the gourds, Eddie’s ready to flop on the couch and take a nap. His congestion hasn’t eased up at all, and that bone deep exhaustion is still hanging on tight. Sniffling and rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt; really Steve’s sweatshirt, he pokes holes in the hard, hollow surface of the pumpkin until he gets what he needs to follow and cut, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. With all of them so focused, trying to finish their creations- Steve’s working on a giant skull, Chrissy has a spider, and Robin has a poison apple- Eddie finishes his own; Michael Myers, and heads to the bathroom, looking through his cabinet to find his allergy pills. He downs one, cupping his hands under the faucet as a makeshift glass, bending forward and swallowing. Hopefully this will help.

Everyone gets an ‘a’ for effort, even if Steve’s pumpkin is by far the best. Eddie can’t help but be impressed with his boyfriends artistic skills, enough so he presses a kiss to his neck and smiles, nuzzling his hair.

“When did you get so artsy? Come work with me at the parlor,” he murmurs, continuing to rub his nose on the nape of the man's neck, sniffling softly.

Feeling Steve’s body tense, feeling goosebumps appear, the long haired man smirks in satisfaction and sniffles again, this time dragging his nose close to Steve’s ear, rubbing it just barely against his skin. The barista moves and presses a kiss to his lips, letting them linger together a moment before breaking apart, grinning.

“We got a couple of hours before the festival starts, anything you want to do?”

Not sure if ‘take a nap’ will go over well, he opts for the next best thing.

“How about we watch a dumb scary movie and cuddle?”

“I vote yes,” Chrissy says from the kitchen, where she’s snacking on chips and guacamole.

“We all know you just want another excuse to cuddle with Robin,” Eddie drawls, yawning after.

His best friend looks like she wants to say something, but instead she merely heads to the couch with her food, cuddling up with her new girlfriend. The two men find their way to the couch too, and before Eddie can stop himself twelve minutes into Sinister, he falls asleep.

Chrissy wakes him up almost two hours later, telling him they need to start getting ready. Eddie promptly tells her to fuck off, grumpy and cold. He’s the only one on the couch now, no longer using Steve’s lap as a pillow. Sitting up, the tattoo artist notices that he’s genuinely not feeling well now, no longer teetering on the fine line of worn down versus coming down with something. Shivering, he wraps his arms around himself and mentally yells at himself when he remembers the costumes he’s chosen for everyone. Of course he’d stick himself in a damn dress the night he’s starting to feel sick. The guest room has Chrissy and Robin starting to work on their costumes, so Eddie goes to his own room, finding Steve freshly showered, hair damp and skin still a little pink.

“Hey babe, have a good nap?” Steve smiles, and he looks so beautiful that the musician finds himself momentarily frozen, just admiring his features.

“Y-Yeah, uh,” he snaps himself out of it, then sniffles and bites his lip. “I think I might be coming down with something,” Eddie admits after a second.

It feels abnormal to say it outloud, he’s never been one to ask for help or admit when something’s wrong. Telling Steve so plainly that he’s getting sick feels foreign and like he shouldn’t be, like it’s a secret. Even when he was younger he’d pretend he was fine, not wanting to bother Wayne or make him miss work. A few times it had backfired spectacularly, but for the most part he’s good at taking care of himself. Steve’s eyes find his, and Eddie’s sure that the man’s insides are squirming- his own did when his boyfriend caught that cold a few weeks back.

“Yeah? What’s going on baby,” Steve steps closer, one hand finding Eddie’s shoulder, the other brushing his thumb against the guitarist's cheek.

“Just feel gross I guess? Kind of achy, exhausted, heads hurting, stuffy,” he shrugs, leaning forward to let his forehead rest on the barista’s shoulder.

“Maybe we should stay in tonight. We can watch more movies and keep it cozy,” the younger man suggests, making Eddie shake his head back and forth despite it making him feel dizzy.

“Absolutely not Steven. It’s Halloween, I am not going to spend it laying on a couch. I don’t feel awful, just like I might be catching a little cold or something anyway. It won’t hit till tomorrow, or even later.” Steve stares at him for a second as if to call his bluff, but then nods, pressing a kiss to his curls. It makes Eddie melt even further, eyes drooping heavily.

Twenty minutes later, they’re heading out the door, all four dressed in costume. Steve’s got his fake ax in his hand, looking all kinds of sexy, even if Jack Torrance is decidedly not, red jacket looking cozy on his frame. Robin and Chrissy are in their dresses, fake blood splattered all over, but they’ve got jackets on as well, the air too cold to really justify not wearing them even with a costume. Eddie is thankful his costume is at least half warm, a beige turtleneck and green gingham button down under a tan jumper like dress, tights and, for his comfort purposes, his black sneakers instead of tall boots.

“Let us know if you wanna head home okay babe?” Steve directs towards his boyfriend, who awkwardly nods.

“Wait, are you okay?” Chrissy’s voice is at just the right tone that Eddie grimaces.

“Just getting a little sick, Chris, nothing major. Just a cold or something.”

“Take it easy tonight, we can always come back and wa-”

“Yeah, I got it, watch TV,” the long haired man grumps, sniffling.

Downtown Hawkins is full of people when they park in the area roped off for all the cars, the streets blocked off with vendors and games, a bounce house for kids on an area of grass. There are some carnival games as well as a few amusement type rides, pumpkin painting and more. Everyone is in costume for the most part, except the ‘too cool’ teenagers that have been dragged by their parents. Eddie’s never been one of those kids, always fully embracing the chaotic holiday to its fullest.

“What should we do first?” Robin asks with a smile, bouncing on the balls of her feet, holding hands with Chrissy- it completes the costume even more.

“Food? Or maybe I can win another bat for Eddie,” Steve teases, pointing to one of the carnival games a couple hundred feet down, where a large bat plush is hanging to win.

“Ooh, food first,” Robin nods, always one for snacks.

Eddie links hands with Steve and matches pace so they fall in line together. It’s chilly out, but Steve’s made sure he’s got a jacket on, always one to mother hen. For some reason, Eddie doesn’t mind it too much, all things considered. He may be stubborn as hell, but he’s lenient for the barista. As they make their way down to where food trucks and snack stands are, the tattoo artist turns and coughs into the crook of his arm. It makes his head give a throb but the pain eases off to a dull ache, and Eddie shifts closer to Steve, craving the physical contact.

As they wait in line, the guitarist notices his best friend rub at her nose, scrunching it up, eyes narrowing. He’s always thought she had an attractive sneeze, even before he really knew her well, sitting behind her in high school. He knows her routine, how she’ll try to make it go away, scrunch her nose up and eventually rub at it, finally succumbing to the four or so sneezes like always. Seconds later, the strawberry blonde does just that, the cuff of her jacket sleeve rubbing against it, before-

“hh’GKkt’uh!”

“Bless you,” Robin rubs her shoulder, but Eddie just chuckles.

“Oh she’s not done.”

True to his word, Chrissy sniffles and cups her hands that are still covered by the sleeve cuffs, to her face.

“hah’IKgt’ew! snf! Thanks,” she gives her girlfriend a smile, rolling her eyes as Eddie just shakes his head knowingly.

“Oh come on, we both know you have more in y-”

“hah’IGKtuhEW! snf! That one wasn’t cute,” she huffs at her best friend jokingly.

Steve’s eyes widen and he looks between the two, cheeks pink.

“I told you, she’s a menace,” Eddie grumbles, laughing when the petite woman glares at him, though the effect diminishes when her eyes flutter.

“ah’hngKTew! hh! h-ah’IKTew! snfsnf! Okay, think I’m done,” she rubs her nose into her sleeve cuff one last time before finally relaxing.

“Bless you,” Robin finally giggles, pressing a kiss to the other’s hair. “Should I be worried? Are you feeling okay?”

A blush appears on the strawberry blonde's cheeks, and she shakes her head, leaning into the taller woman.

“I’m good, they’ve always kind of been like that, you can ask Eddie. I feel good, promise.”

Eddie glares at her, then nods, giving Robin a thumbs up. “Yep, she just sneezes a billion times no matter what. If she’s sick she can’t hold them back like that.”

Steve and Chrissy end up with hotdogs, Robin gets a burger, and Eddie opts for a grilled cheese. He’s been saving his carbs for candy, but honestly this is the only thing that sounds even remotely good to him, and it’s rare he’s ever able to even eat one. Munching on the bread and cheese, he lets out an almost unholy noise, moaning. The other three stare at him, making him smirk.

“Never seen a guy enjoy his food before?”

“Maybe you’d like to take the sandwich back to your apartment and not me,” Steve jokes lightly, taking another bite of his own food.

“Says the man literally downing a weiner.”

Chrissy and Robin laugh.

“You both have good points. But really, enjoying your food, birthday boy?” Chrissy asks.

“God yes. I always forget how good these things are. Like I know they’re good, but they’re always even better when I do have one,” Eddie rambles, shivering slightly as a cool gush of wind goes by. Swiping his nose on his wrist, he finishes up his sandwich, then takes a few sips of water while checking all of his levels and making sure he’s got enough insulin ready for the chaotic mess that is his body.

When the group finishes, Chrissy links arms with her best friend, causing Eddie to smile softly at her. They’ve been through a lot together, and he can’t help but feel overly excited about her move in a few weeks. They walk down to the ‘carnival’ area, and Eddie rolls his eyes fondly when Steve starts getting all macho-man, walking up to a basketball free throw game, running a hand through his coiffed hair. The three others watch him in amusement, but once he starts throwing the balls, they go in every single time. By the time the plush bat is being handed over, Chrissy and Eddie have their mouths open and Robin is laughing.

“King Steve, everyone!”

“Not anymore Robs,” Steve’s voice goes tight and Eddie looks at him curiously, trying to save this moment in his mental rolodex to ask him about later.

“Thanks for winning him Stevie,” he jumps in, a large smile on his face.

Taking the bat, he announces his name is now Lestat, and he is going to be sleeping in his bed at all times, looking entirely pleased with his new friend. They play a few more games, Steve winning a teddy bear for Robin and Eddie managing to somehow win a little frog for Chrissy and; after an embarrassing amount of tries, a bear for his boyfriend too. Both couples walking around, stuffed animals in hand, they stop at a few booths that are set up with different kinds of candy and little items. The artist eagerly takes a little thing of bubbles, blowing them throughout the street until the soapy liquid is gone, kids having gathered to jump around.

Somewhere in between the four of them taking photos at a small photo op area and viewing all of the scarecrows that have been dressed up by local shops- why the parlor or Not Just Coffee didn’t get the memo is a mystery to them- Eddie starts feeling bad. The temperature is only dropping and he can feel a chill start to settle into his bones, the kind that doesn’t bode well for the long haired man. His throat’s started hurting in the most piercing, uncomfortable way, and the achiness that’s seized his body is making his skin feel too sensitive.

“We should go check out all those cool pumpkins,” Steve suggests, gesturing to the long rows of different carved pumpkins along the sidewalk.

Following, Eddie ignores the look Chrissy fixes him with. He knows he’s being quieter and not as energetic, and he knows his best friend worries, but there’s not much they can do about a silly cold. It’s stay at home or be out here, and it’s not like they’re doing anything strenuous, they’re walking around. The musician can tell they’re all having a good time, and that’s what matters to him.

“Hey Harrington,” a voice from behind them makes the group turn.

A man with a tan police uniform is standing there, gazing at them. The little gold bar on his right pocket says ‘JIM HOPPER’, and his badge clipped to his other side tells Eddie he’s the police chief of Hawkins. Curious that he knows the barista, of all people, but then he remembers his boyfriends grown up here his entire life and the town is small. Steve, for his part, smiles and shakes Hopper’s hand.

“Hey Hop. How’re you? Not running into any trouble?”

“Nope, just watching out for teens who want to cause trouble,” the older man shrugs, his eyes looking at the freckled faced girl next, once again smiling. “Buckley, good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too Chief,” she nods.

If the policeman notices her holding Chrissy’s hand, he doesn’t say anything. Soon, Jim’s gaze turns to Eddie, who swallows thickly and shifts. It’s not that he’s against cops, but any that he’d encountered back in Chicago hadn’t been too friendly, and they’d always made him feel like he'd done something wrong, even when he hadn’t. He’d never been caught in highschool when selling drugs, but he’d been close, close enough that a cop that patrolled the hallways of North-Grand had taken him to the office to sit him down and question him. Not one of his finer moments.

“Jim Hopper, don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” the man says kindly, holding a hand out.

The name is familiar in a distant, hazy way, like maybe he’s heard Steve mention him before in a random conversation. Shaking the gruff man's hand, Eddie nods and hopes he gives a smile instead of a grimace when swallowing makes his throat sting.

“Eddie Munson, nice to meet you.”

Hopper freezes, gaze suddenly more calculating, eyes sweeping him up and down minutely.

“You’re Wayne’s boy.”

Stiffening, the artist nods, licking his lips nervously. It sinks in suddenly, just how he knows this man's name, why he seems familiar. Tension hangs in the air, and his friends watch the interaction with confusion written all over their faces.

“Yes sir.”

“You just visiting? I’m sure your uncle is happy to see you.”

“I moved back about a month ago, actually. Missed him too much, I guess. Plus the local tattoo shop had an opening, so it worked out.” His cheeks feel hot as he tries not to squirm under the now knowing gaze.

“Gotcha. Well I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” the Chief nods, then gestures to Chrissy. “And you are?”

“Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie’s friend. I’ll be moving here soon.”

“Christ, if you two are as codependent as these two punks, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you both around more, too.” Hop throws a smile to Robin and Steve, then back to Eddie and Chrissy, who relax a bit, sensing he’s not as intimidating as he seems.

Steve looks like he wants to butt in and defend himself, but Hopper rolls his eyes and then nods, before looking at Eddie again, his gaze once again piercing, like he’s trying to convey something silently. When the guitarist just blinks back, he takes a step closer.

“You need anything, if anyone gives you trouble, you just gimme a call, okay kid?”

“Y-Yeah…thank you. Nice to uh…see you again, I guess.”

When the older man walks off; a sweet looking brunette woman calling him over from a booth, Robin, Chrissy and Steve turn to the metalhead. Steve’s raising an eyebrow, Robin has her head tilted, but his best friend looks like she’s starting to comprehend the interaction.

“Uh, what was that? Why does he know you? I thought you just moved to-” Robin starts but Eddie shakes his head.

“I used to live here, back when I was little. I moved away with my uncle when I was eight,” he offers her, feeling uncomfortable not just from illness.They let it drop, for which Eddie is beyond grateful, not wanting to get into the shit show that’s his childhood.

By the time nine pm rolls around, they’ve done pretty much everything there is to do. They’ve congregated with a few of the ‘kids’ Steve always talks about, talking about life and what they’ve been up to. Eddie knows Max and Dustin, but the others are new. Finding out that they all enjoy D&D makes the man thoroughly thrilled, already telling them they need to play together.

“Of course you two would end up becoming friends,” Steve grumbles, when he realizes they share D&D in common, and now have more to talk about.

“You’re just jealous I’m about to have another older male friend in my life.”

Oh yeah, he’s going to enjoy hanging out with these brats.

Standing out in the now frigid cold is making whatever shit he’s coming down with really start to set in. Eddie’s not usually one to complain when he doesn’t feel well, but as the minutes tick by, the man wonders how long they’re going to stand there. His throat’s starting to get that swollen feeling, like his tonsils are double the size they should be, and it makes the artist touch his upper neck carefully, wishing he could rub the feeling away. Sniffling and rubbing his nose on the cuff of his jacket, Eddie leans into boyfriend, head fuzzy and aching.

Steve’s BMW warms up as they pull out of the packed parking area twenty minutes later, waiting in a long line to make their way back to the rest of the town. Shivering, Eddie shuts his eyes, listening to the other three talk about the coffee shop and then kids he and Chrissy have met. The ride doesn’t take very long, and the eldest wants to be petulant as Steve gets out of the car with a look on his face. He knows what’s coming next- the two business owners aren’t coming up with them.

“I wish I could stay baby, you know I do, but I gotta go back to my place so I have everything I need for work tomorrow morning. Plus you need sleep, and I don’t wanna wake you up at five am like I always do when I stay over,” Steve explains softly, running a hand down his back when Eddie presses close.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he bites his lip, feeling like a child who’s getting told they can’t go with a parent overnight somewhere. “Sorry, m’good,” he adds with a wobbly smile, breaking the hug.

“If you start feeling worse, tell Chrissy okay?”

“I know, Stevie, I’m a big boy,” the man huffs, feeling prickly again. Jesus can his emotions chill for two minutes? “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will baby,” Steve nods and presses a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead, brushing his bangs out of the way. He lets them linger for a moment before finally pulling back.

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow. And thanks for winning me my bear, he’s going to stay on my bed. Happy birthday Eds, I hope it was the best one yet.” Steve adds, squeezing the hand Eddie doesn’t have his own bat in.

All four say goodbye, kissing their respective partner before Steve and Robin pull away and Eddie leans against Chrissy, feeling any energy he’s had left drain out of him. The fact he doesn’t get sick often makes everything worse, and when they get into the apartment, he turns to his best friend and leans his face down on her shoulder, their height difference more apparent at times like these.

“How’re you feeling birthday boy?” Chrissy asks, noting it isn’t even ten pm yet.

“I’m okay I guess,” Eddie mumbles, shivering. “Think I might take a shower to warm up and then lay down. Maybe on the couch? We can watch Garfield's Halloween Adventure,” he suggests, finally standing to turn away and cough into his arm.

Garfield’s Halloween Adventure is something Eddie’s watched every year on Halloween since he was born. It’s one of his favorite memories with his mom, snuggling up on the couch on the night of his birthday and watching the orange cat and dopey dog row across to the haunted house. Even after she died, he’d continued the tradition with Wayne, and then eventually Chrissy. Quietly, he wishes Steve were there to join in on the tradition. Chrissy must be able to tell, because she presses a kiss to his head and then squeezes his arm.

“Go shower. I’ll make you some tea to have when you get out. I’ll find some extra blankets too.”

Sometimes, Eddie isn’t sure how the universe allows him to have a friend like Chrissy Cunningham.

With the water extra hot, Eddie stands under the spray, thankful to be out of the slightly uncomfortable dress. It dawns on him, as he soaps up his hair, that he had reintroduced himself to the chief of police in a goddamn dress and tights. Grimacing, he coughs out into the open, not bothering to cover as he rinses his curls, head throbbing right at his temples. Even under the water, he’s cold. It’s like there’s a blanket of ice over his bones, especially when the water gets turned off and he wraps a towel around his waist. Reattaching his pump, he goes to pull on a pair of comfy, too big sweatpants and a sweatshirt of Steve’s. After a moment of thought, he pulls on socks too, pale feet too cold to be bare on the hardwood floors.

Knowing he won’t be eating anything else tonight, Eddie brushes his teeth and flosses, something he does religiously. He’s had one cavity his entire life- he’d been six and traumatized by the sound of the drill. It’s funny now, he thinks, that he uses a tattoo gun every day. Not exactly the same, but still close enough that some people react the way he had as a child. Looking at himself in the mirror, hair still damp, he notices dark circles starting to appear under his eyes, a tell-tale sign he’s starting to get sick. At least he’s avoided feeling really unwell until now, after all the fun has been had.

Moving to the living room where Chrissy is curled up in the corner, he gives her a tired smile. Looking around, he notices she’s in her pajamas too, blankets all over the couch and steaming mug of tea sitting on the coffee table on a coaster. Literal. Godsend. Grabbing his black solar system blanket; the one he’s had since he was fourteen and Wayne surprised him with it, he wraps it around his shoulders like a cape, grabs his tea, then burrows himself under another one, pressing close to his best friend.

“Should I move? Don’t wanna get you sick,” he takes a sip of his tea, big brown eyes looking at her worriedly.

“While that’s sweet, we both know if you’re not getting cuddled when you feel gross you’re a terror,” she teases, a small hand laying against his knee.

“Damn, call me out.”

Garfield’s Halloween Adventure is already pulled up, paused at the beginning. The entire ‘movie’ is less than half an hour long, so Eddie forces himself to stay awake, knowing he’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t watch the entire thing. He finishes his tea as the large grandfather clock chimes midnight and the ghost pirates start to appear. The screen goes black five minutes later, and though it’s barely past 10:30, he looks at Chrissy, feeling guilty.

“Would you hate me if I went to bed early?”

“Of course not,” she frowns, looking at him with her brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry, this cold is just hitting me, I guess. I feel like I can barely keep my-snf! my eyes open.”

“Yeah bug, go ahead,” Chrissy nods, rubbing his shoulder. “You need sleep. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your birthday,” she says gently, standing to follow him to his bedroom.

“Want me to cuddle with you till you fall asleep?”

Eddie snaps his gaze to hers and then nods. He’s sure he looks ridiculous as he lays down, his solar system blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, little bat Robin bought him close by; his bat Steve won him is sitting on his chair for now until there’s more room. Chrissy lays down too, and it reminds him of when she’d come over crying because of her shitty mom, and how they’d lay in his bed just talking about their futures. It reminds him of all the times she’d come over to learn guitar and they’d lounge on his bed listening to whatever new CD he had. It reminds him of when they got an apartment together and he’d have nightmares of Wayne dying, and he’d crawl into her bed like a child seeking protection.

“Night Chris,” Eddie mumbles, slinging an arm over her waist as he snuggles under the sheets. He’s asleep in seven minutes, and Chrissy is close behind.

#my fic #birthdayweekend #em #sh #st #rb #cc #ytau

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myimaginedcorner · 6 months

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A TUMBLR STORY: TORN PAGE (pg.25)

PREVIOUS RESULT: Yes - I wish for them to know.

***

“Ashna Silverheart, huh…”

Raph’s voice gets an offended glance from Silence, who took over as your lips sealed for a pause. With a huff of soundless wind, She leaves, hurt.

“Raph, again…” the barman shakes his head.

“Whatever. She’s always so dramatic.”

“You cannot steal her moments. Time owes her moments.”

“Whatever.”

“So, you know the precious elf?” the fairy wonders, puffing smoke into a foggy air. It smells of lilies, a scent sweet and strong. Your mind reacts to it, quiet on its meaning.

“Hells if I do,” Raph coughs, scaring away the odours with a hand. “Don’t blow that at me, will you?”

“Tell us then, who are they?” the barman, cheerfully intrigued, puts a new glass in front of you.

“Not my story to tell, now, is it?” the man answers, eyes narrowed. You feel his heavy gaze – a gaze that shackles you with sins you don’t remember.

“But Raph, you cannot spoil us and then pretend we heard nothing,” the barman’s voice sounds displeased. “At least, tell us who they are to be.”

“No, that’s their job.”

“Why are they a Silverheart, then?”

“It’s their surname, what would I know?”

“Elves don’t have surnames.”

Your intervention is a mumble everyone can hear. All stares gather on you, even more intrigued, albeit their curiosity cannot match the turmoil stirred up within you. Raph knows Ashna as a Silverheart? That is a title rare to acquire, one not appropriate for a scholar or a mage. It is a heroic denomination, reserved to someone…

You wince in pain.

“Oh, dear, that needs a stronger sip,” the man of emerald eyes swaps your old cup for a new one, small and transparent. In it, a steaming liquid fizzes, glowing in the shadow of a hand. You grab it, eager to pour down your throat: it burns your skin, leaving a scar through which confusion escapes your body.

“Better?” you’re asked as you knock on the table with the empty glass.

“No,” you sigh. Your mind is clear again, memories pouring out like water through a broken dam.

First mistake.

***

“Let me show you something.”

You moved to the queue’s end, away from elven ears. Laefen and Amani led the way, Leader and scout; the others followed, absorbed by their own thoughts, oblivious to your machinations. At least, so they posed themselves to be – you weren’t sure M was not spying from the corners of their eyes, aware of every whisper slipping through your lips. Just in case, you turned your head away, focusing on your companion. What you were about to say was meant for them only.

“What is it?” there was a mix of intrigue and fear in Ashna’s voice. You caught their gaze as you took their hands; the pulse of a warm heart reached you through their tender veins.

“Something revolutionary.”

You tried to replicate what you just felt, that world fading into dullness as green took over every shape. You channelled a thought you never used before – the will to live, a strong desire to unsee the deadline placed over your mortal head. Push Death away, for it doesn’t belong to you to wield Her…

“Wow…” an awed exhale brought you to visualise Ashna’s outline, gleaming emerald. Their energy flowed in chaos with its every thread, yet in a movement soft and placid, easy to observe. Their eyes became two lights to scare away all darkness, their shivering ears, two wings that sprinkled sparkling dust into the air. Within their chest, you saw a core not so dissimilar from yours, power incarnated. If gods were not defeated, you would mistake them for one.

“What is this…?” their question led you to a smile – they saw it.

“This is Life.”

You watched the sparks fleeting over your naked skin, jumping from finger to finger as they danced with an elusive partner. While your hands interlaced, your energies did not, each of you, keeping your flame safe.

“Life?” confused, Ashna managed to pull their eyes away from the hypnotic sight. “It looks like magic energy, but feels…”

“Different,” you finished for them, nodding. “This is not magic, but our own Life. Do you see how it flows through me, through you, through everything?”

“I only see some grains that quickly dissipate. The ones you are invoking.”

With a little frown, you sighed. Of course, Ashna was not blessed by the dragon’s knowledge… it would be hard for them to comprehend the vastness of what you had learned.

“Hey, lovey-dovey ones at the end, don’t slow down!!” you heared Laefen shout; you split your lace, all emerald gone in an instant. Your eyes met with the scout’s gaze, curious in innocent mischievousness as for your behaviour. Noticing the stare, he smiled, giving you a playful wink. “Don’t make me search for you later, alright?”

“Sorry,” Ashna quickly apologised, adjusting their hair. “We’ll be more wary.”

“Nothing to be wary about with me around, do not fret, fellow scholar,” grinned the elf. “Just don’t get out of my line of sight.”

“That should be quite a distance,” you pointed out.

The elf laughed. “Well of course, but let’s not test it, shall we?”

“Yeah,” a thin smile appeared upon your lips. With a quick glance to the side, you neared Ashna’s ear, whispering. “I’ll teach you.”

You felt how their ear shivered from the warmth of your breath, and saw how heat travelled to its tips, shied by your closeness. Your smile grew – in your mind, butterflies covered with their colourful wings the shades of grim reason.

#torn page #tumblr story #tumblr community #new page

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odysseywritings · 1 year

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It's a Hard Road, but We're Making It

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Reina was exhausted, reeling from an emotionally exhausting fight against the invaders. Haven had just removed his armor and went to sit with Reina as she started to cry. He'd known her enough to know what might be weighing on her and he held her closely and firmly.

"It's never going to stop, is it," she shivered. "How many years of this? I can't think of a normal life anymore."

Haven let her talk, being her anchor in the neverending stormy sea. He got up and offered her some fruit, knowing she wouldn't eat it, but that she would appreciate the gesture of sharing.

"I keep thinking," she continued, "maybe it would be better if we just minded our own business. I don't care if it sounds selfish. There's people out there more qualified to fight this. Hell! What a nightmare this is!"

The rest of her tears burned up, and she hated feeling this weak, though Haven knew this made her real. His expression didn't change much outside of these moments, where sadness and grief were clear, and that he did not have to second guess what someone was feeling. He liked that about Reina, how visible her reactions were, how he could know when she needed help even if he wasn't sure what to do.

"Reina," he started softly, almost boyishly. "Do you remember when we first met? I don't have the best memory, but we both hated these guys, but we were too weak and scared to do anything while they made our homes prisons. And I think we both knew it in some way. Just speaking for myself, it made me angry how nothing seemed to matter. Even when these things were ruining things, I just wanted to live my life. And then... Well, you know about my family..."

Reina sniffled and leaned on his head, looking down. She compared the scars on her arms and his, how similarly pale and deep.

"I don't know if things happen for a reason. Like, if fate is real or if we're cursed. But I know this much." He held her hand and looked at her with big sad blue eyes and a pained smile. "We can still dream. This doesn't have to be our life forever. And look at this journey we've made! All the things we experienced, not just the bad, but the people and animals we've helped. I wish it came with better circumstances. But if we had given up in the past, we wouldn't see how much that's great about life, why we fight for it."

She exhaled, uncertain about his words and if he was talking sense. Still, she lifted her head up and looked at him with her dark eyes.

"I know I want to go exploring, rescuing life from hazards, learning about the universe, making things! And I know who I want to," he blushed with a small smile, "start a family with."

"You are hopeless," she chuckled, wiping away the final tears.

"The opposite, though. I had no confidence in my future or myself. But now I get it. Life is dumb, and mean, and you wish it were different. But life that we can create can be good. There's more children around, there are trees and rivers turning normal, and more people joining our side. It's BECAUSE we're kicking ass that these war freaks keep throwing everything at us. They're scared we'll win. They were arrogant when we were younger and insecure and they could just get stronger and do whatever they wanted. We have a chance now. I think it's good to know the things we went through aren't wasted. If we're both alive after all these years, we can do anything, like dreaming."

"You're... Ugh, when you get so optimistic? You're like a dog sometimes."

"I'm just paying it forward when you saw something in me. I didn't think you were right back then, but I'm glad I trusted you. You're more like a queen now than before, too."

She stifled a grin, feeding off that desire for pride, and she gained a lighter mood. It still took time for her to recover fully, but she soon could match Haven's energy, and it wouldn't take long until it surpassed his. Perhaps this all was inevitable, or just they are both going to be unlucky no matter what, yet she did not want to give in to a bleak future. It was harder, but she had more freedom, and she would have more of it once these interdimensional tyrants were stopped for good. Dreams of a scientific, enlightening future appealed to her as well. Altruism and creativity were still decent. As for a family? She'd think about it but she couldn't think of a better person to make one with.

#writeblr #creative writing #original writing #hurt comfort #flash fiction #wip: starlight journey #haven and reina #mywriting #njm

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paramouradrift · 1 year

Text

"Can you hear me?"

@febuwhump

Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender, Pairing: Zukka Modern AU in which Zuko is the captain of the fencing team.

You can scry for the location of this fic on AO3 here.

Sokka lay in his dorm room bed, sick as a dog. He was alone, his roommate having vacated the place to go and stay with his girlfriend for a few days while Sokka recovered (and in turn, he was sure, his roommate’s girlfriend’s roommate was probably staying elsewhere, continuing the chain of exiling and sexiling ad nauseam). He had a box of tissues and a massive two liter bottle of water next to his bed, a sick bucket on the floor, and every blanket he owned piled on top of him. His body ached, and his nose hadn’t stopped running in days. He felt like death was upon him. His monitor was on while he tried to stream something mindless he could try to enjoy, but frankly all he had the energy for was 90s infomercials and Chinese soap operas. He took a swig of water and settled in for another episode when his phone buzzed. It was Zuko.

“Hello?” he said, and was greeted by a blast of sound.

“Sokka!” Zuko yelled over the cheering crowds. He must have still been in the fencing arena. The team had gone to regionals, leaving Sokka and a few other unlucky teammates at home to recover from illness. “Hello?”

“Hello! Zuko, can you hear me?” Sokka asked, voice as thick as his sinuses were full.

“Wait, let me get somewhere quieter,” Zuko yelled over the background noise. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then the roar of the crowd was cut off. “Is this better? Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, captain,” Sokka said.

“Hey,” Zuko said, and Sokka could hear the smile.

“Hey, dork,” Sokka said. “How’d we do?”

“Jet came in second in the senior foil division,” Zuko said. “And you’ll never guess who swept all their matches.”

“Aang?”

“No. Suki,” Zuko said, and Sokka loved how proud he sounded. “She was incredible, Sokka. It was almost a clean sweep, too. Her epee was so clean, it was like she just danced around her opponent’s swings. She didn’t get touched once until her last match, but she was up against Haru from BSSU, and I’ve heard he’s their rising star.”

“That’s great!” Sokka said. “Wish I could’ve seen it.”

“I think coach filmed it, I’ll show you later,” Zuko said. “You know how he gets, he wants us to do some post mortem thing if we lose or have something to post to the website if we win.”

“How’d you do, though?” Sokka asked, dabbing at his nose with a tissue.

“I did alright,” Zuko said. Sokka snorted, and then coughed. He put the phone down to blow his nose.

“Come on, Zuko,” he said. “What the hell is ‘alright’ supposed to mean?”

“Well, I’m bringing home 1st place in the senior saber division,” Zuko said. Sokka sat up.

“Alright!?” he cried. “Zuko! Congratulations! That’s incredible!”

“Thanks,” Zuko said. Sokka could picture him blushing while trying not to look smug.

“Seriously, who hurt you?” Sokka asked. “You should be waving that medal in everyone’s face.”

“Well, growing up with my dad and my sister, I guess I got used to thinking of myself as…untalented?” Zuko said. Sokka’s heart squeezed painfully. “I know, I know, it’s dumb. I’m not the team captain because of my winning personality, but. I don’t know, I don’t like showing it off in case I’m not as good as I think I am.”

“Wow, my handsome and talented boyfriend is so humble,” Sokka said. “What a man. What a catch.”

“Shut up,” Zuko said, chuckling into the phone and sending shivers down Sokka’s neck. “I’d kiss you if I was there.”

“You’d get sick again,” Sokka said, sniffing loudly. “Hey. When you get back. Can we…?”

He heard the door open through the phone, and his teammates called to Zuko. Zuko replied, and then said to Sokka, “Listen, I’ve got to go. Coach is treating us to dinner, and then we’ll be on our way back. Probably won’t be until midnight, though, so don’t stay up for me.”

“Hadn’t planned on it,” Sokka said. “I feel like shit.”

“I love you,” Zuko said. “Get well, okay?”

“Okay,” Sokka said, grinning despite himself. “Bye, boyfriend.”

“Bye!”

The call ended, and Sokka burrowed down into his blankets. He turned off his monitor and forced himself to sleep, determined to get better as quickly as possible so that he and Zuko could properly celebrate his win. Scenarios played out in his dreams, warped though they were by his subconscious mind, and he had more than sweat to wash from his clothes when he was mobile enough to do laundry again.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday12 #atla #fanfic #zukka

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viridescent-lance · 1 year

Note

Champagne: Something strong and cleverly(?) hidden in one of many flasks: This isn’t a church-run event anymore, so the bar is open and flows freely. The waiter-mice might give you judging looks if you make a fool of yourself, and really, how low do you have to go to be judged by a mouse?

While most people seemed like they were trying to adapt to the weird situation, there were some that were attempting to rally against the Elementals and fight back in some manner or another. Honestly, it all sounded like a good time to Linus -- a party, or a fight -- so he was ready for whatever ended up coming.

But, really, the guy shouting up at the sky looked like he needed a little...break.

"Looks like water doesn't know how to treat their critters! Maybe we should help!" The voice is an electric hum in his ear, and even if he had been thinking of going over on his own, now it felt like he was being pushed over there by an overeager hand.

So, with static jumping between his fingers as he wanders on over to the poor sap, slinging an arm around Forsyth's shoulders mid-argument. "Heeey there, champ. Ya look a bit...wound up. Maybe ya should come hang out with me for a while, get your knots all...un-knotted, ya know what I mean?" he laughed, pulling Forsyth away from the spot he'd chosen as his verbal jousting match with Water, reaching into his jacket with his free hand to dig out a clearly well-used flask of...something.

Damned if he could remember what it was now, but Linus knew it packed a hell of a punch!

"I'm telling you, if you would just--" Forsyth's fruitless plea is cut off physically, not in an attack but he's sure getting jostled. It's friendly and aggressive at once, and the odor of alcohol on the man's mouth solves that mystery quickly.

"While I appreciate the offer, my tension is entirely reasonable for a situation like this!" Forsyth gets a look at his assailant-companion, and things make even more sense. It's Linus Reed, Python's unbearably rowdy coworker. Rumor is he's a feared former mercenary, and it shows in the strength of his grip and his preference in liquor. "...what is in there, anyway?"

As irresponsible as it feels to turn away from a conversation, Water seems to have moved on to other things, and Linus is correct in the sense that Forsyth has himself coiled so tightly he feels he could snap at any moment. He's good at managing this, generally, but he does need to balance himself and allow himself some recovery from intense engagements.

And if he were to start teaching some classes for the Golden Deer house like he had been considering recently, it would be a good idea to start getting to know his fellow instructors better. Even if they're as...unruly as Linus.

"If I fall ill from this, you will be held responsible." Forsyth takes a sip of the stuff, shuddering. It packs a punch, but it isn't entirely unpleasant. He takes another quaff, letting the liquid burn his throat and send shivers of warmth through his body. He hands the flask back to him, their hands meeting for a second. A flower of lightning blooms on Forsyth's vine collar, the jolts of energy coursing through his body like a second aftershock. "What is it you suggest we do?"

#[ ic ]#[ ask meme ]#justicefanged #toaball2023 #//ty for the sigurd thread setup linus #//also tbqh these two need to interact more he IS right forsyth needs to loosen up #//though. it's a gamble as to whether he will make things worse or not LOL

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estrellamorningstar · 4 months

Text

Self-Care [Part 5]

Warning: Smut, NSFW, 18+

Summary: Celeste´s getting more... familiar with other Survivors

Word Count: 3784

When Celeste comes to she feels the worst she has ever felt after a Trial, her heart is beating so hard she's not sure if she's actually come to full consciousness yet. She can still feel where the knife penetrated her flesh, but as she tries to feel the non existing wounds with her hands her brain catches up and she finally opens her eyes and looks around. The nurse that has been assigned to her tonight looks worriedly at the monitors. Her assistant hands Celeste the drink and she can tell that the cup is much heavier than what it normally is.

''Drink it all. It will make you better. ''

Celeste is still trying to calm her heartrate and sits up as she tries to remove all the sensors that are keeping her attached to whatever the hell just happened to her. She had heard of Killers doing this, but it was the first time she experienced it herself.

''We should have left you unconscious a little longer to let your conscience switch over to reality, you're feeling rough because this was your first Mori.'' The nurse comes over to Celeste and without a warning holds her head still and blinds Celeste with her little examination flashlight. The nurse doesn't say anything, but takes some notes. This is the first time she has given Celeste any information, usually it's just instructions.

''Mori? ''

''Yes, the Killers like to call it that. It's a sadistic way for them to finish their Trials usually. It's rare they do it at the beginning of the match, but some Sponsors will give them extra Bloodpoints. Drink up.''

Celeste looks at the strange liquid in the cup and wonders what would happen if she just allowed all the feelings from the last Trial stay within her - feel the anger and humiliation and learn to overcome those feelings in a natural way. Whatever is in that liquid seems to remove the majority of emotions gained from most Trials. Celeste leaves the cup on the side of the table and stands up to leave, hoping that the nurse won't notice, but the nurse clears her throat and points at the cup with the pen she's writing her notes with. It was never going to work. Celeste downs the liquid and an immediate burst of energy and calmness takes over her.

As she walks out of the Main Building Celeste notices Carlos leaning against the fence, watching the camp. When he hears her footsteps he turns and opens the gate, not taking his eyes off her.

''How are you feeling, Cielo? ''

He nicknamed her Cielo after struggling with pronouncing her name, Carlos explained that it means sky in Spanish, funny how languages work, Celeste's mother believed in astrology and had named all of her children after celestial objects, she would have loved that nickname. Celeste is feeling more elevated than she usually is - a double dose of what the Survivors have started calling Sunshine clearly is doing its job. Carlos has been trying to mentor Celeste and she have gotten to know his facial expressions, but as she's looking at him she can't quite figure out what is going on behind that man's eyes. He looks relieved, angry, concerned and just tired.

''I'm alive,'' Celeste says and accepts his hug. This is the first time anyone has hugged her since she's come to the Trial and she appreciates how warm his body feels, physically and just.. it's nice to be hugged. She realizes that if it weren't for Sunshine she'd have burst into tears by now.

''I'm sorry, I tried to get to you,'' Carlos looks Celeste all over as if trying to find any wounds on her. It must have looked quite as violent as it felt because he really does seem to be feeling guilty. She feels a shiver run down her spine, his hug actually made her feel warmth throughout her body and not having his arms wrapped around her makes all the difference.

''There was nothing you could do. He said it was from Wesker, I don't know what he meant.''

Carlos's expression changes once again, he doesn't seem to be able to hide any kind of emotion. It's quite refreshing to Celeste, especially since her whole life she's tried to be the one that nobody messes with, even if she was just pretending. This serum is really making her feel things she shouldn't - the gravity of whatever's happening is clearly distressing him, but she's standing there gushing over how this man, who clearly would have been a Gladiator in the Roman times, because he is able to feel emotions.

''Listen, you need to get some sleep, but we should meet up later. ''

Celeste takes a long, hot shower and lays down in hopes to just sleep the mess that's inside her head off, but once she closes her eyes she gets mixed images of Wesker, Carlos and Ghostie. She feels guilty for making Carlos feel whatever million emotions he's feeling at the mention of Wesker, she feels angry with Ghostie, she feels like whatever he did to her was unfair, he didn't even give her a fighting chance and for what? What IS Wesker playing at, sending other Killers to get her?

Every time she has started Trials recently she has been looking out for that telling metal chest, hoping to face Wesker again. Celeste got deceived once - she saw the metallic looking box and then got chased and obliterated by Nemesis who seemed to have no care in the world, he genuinely seemed to be having the time of his life, she actually didn't mind getting hooked by him, apart from the pain of course. But right now Celeste is hoping to face Wesker finally, that pride is taking over again, she wants to show him that she has gotten better. She has some tricks up her sleeve and she wants to escape the Trial, leaving Wesker exasperated. That thought is the one that makes Celeste fall asleep finally.

*************************************************************

Celeste gets woken up by a knock on the door. She groans loudly, hoping that whoever's at the door will get the message, but Kate's voice makes Celeste open her eyes and get out of the bed.

''Come on kitten, it's time to get up,'' Kate started calling her that ever since Wesker's Trial.

She opens the door and immediately gets annoyed by how flawless Kate always looks. She smiles and places a mug of coffee in Celeste's hands. Celeste closes the door behind Kate and falls into the armchair near the window. She takes a long sip of the dark coffee and looks over at angel that is Kate, she has brought Celeste coffee on numerous occasions, but today was really needed.

''I saw how rough your Trial was yesterday,'' Kate says quietly as she sits on the end of Celeste's bed and crosses her legs under her, Celeste can see the same concern in Kate's eyes as she did with Carlos.

''I think you will have a few rough months ahead of you, they're bound to get bored. Most new Survivors get put through hell at the beginning.''

''I know it will end, I just didn't sign up for this, Kate.'' What did s she sign up for? She stares in the coffee cup, trying to muster the strength to even think about a time when she will be able to just get through the Trial as if it's a normal work day.

''Carlos seems to know something,'' the shadow of the hug Carlos gave her washes over her body. She looks outside the window, it's another sunny day, the weather is just made for being outside.

''Carlos seems to be very concerned for you. You should have seen him yesterday after you got Moried. He made Ghostie's life hell, I have never seen him quite like it. And personally, I prefer Carlos's way of courting you.''

Kate's expression changes from serious to the kind of an expression Celeste used to see on her friends when discussing boys. A girly laugh manages to escape her, and blood fills her cheeks.

''Carlos is obsessed with Wesker,'' Celeste has decided to not allow any more fantasies distract her from getting through the next few months. She gets up and grabs a toothbrush from the bathroom hoping that Kate has not noticed the redness that has creeped into her cheeks.

''Besides, Jill and him have some history.''

''That was beforethe Trials, and not that kind of history,'' Kate emphasizes the that. Celeste peaks at her from the bathroom door and cocks her eyebrow at Kate since her mouth is full of toothpaste and can't say anything. Kate gives Celeste a knowing smile.

''I think that Carlos and Jill have less history than Jill has.. history.'' Kate looks at the bottom of her coffee mug as if trying to read the future. ''Besides Jill was here way before Carlos and there was a rumor going around that she had hooked up with one of the Killers.''

Celeste spits out her toothpaste and rinses quicker than she has ever done.

''She did what?'' Celeste never realized that the Killer and Survivor camps have access to each other. Or that there is any contact between the two sides of the Main Building. The Survivors are always watched and directed to the exit without even a chance to take a wrong step.

''Well, that's what the rumor was. But apparently something bad had happened between Jill and Wesker before they were sent here. And Carlos had been there for her, so I think that he's just used to playing the hero.'' Kate shrugs and gets up from the bed, grabbing the coffee mug from the floor where Celeste left it. All this new information makes her feel way too many things at once and she has so many more new questions that need answered..

''But who was Jill hooking up with?'' Celeste almost slips up and asks ''and how?'' but she stops herself. It isn't a question she should be considering.

''Nobody knows, she could still be with them, Jill doesn't really like to get too personal. But you should talk to her about some of her perks she could sell you. Trust me, that girl knows how to piss off Killers. ''

Kate looks at her watch and starts heading for the door.

''I'm on kitchen duty today, but please don't get back to sleep, I know you're tired. Go soak up some sun.''

Celeste hears the door close and decides that today she will have a self care day while the sun is still shining.

*************************************************************

After spending some time applying creams and cleaning her hair Celeste heads down to the kitchen to prepare a bowl of fruit that she takes outside to the grassy area just near the woods. She has made heself a picnic consisting of the most delicious fruits and cheeses, and the day is good. She lies on her stomach on the soft picnic blanket and reads her book, but soon enough she finds herself reading the same words over and over again, not really understanding the meaning of them, as her thoughts slowly drift to Carlos. She realizes that, between how concerned he seemed the night before and Kate putting thoughts in her mind, Celeste finds herself wondering if this whole time, that she's been in the Trials, has put her body through so much stress that she never even thought about being intimate with anybody, and now that there is a rather good looking, strong and masculine man showing vulnerability she suddenly just feels needy. She needs to know what Carlos's body feels like under those fatigues he's always wearing. Celeste certainly could feel a solid body in that rather surprisingly soft hug he gave her. She turns over on her back and watches the tree tops just above her, trying to not allow herself get sucked into a fantasy she will never fulfill like she's done so many times before.

But her imagination takes over before she tries to stop it and that hug Carlos gave her just outside the gate turns into an image of him turning Celeste around and pushing her into the fence, moving her hair away from her neck and with a hot breath in her ear whispering I need you Cielo. Celeste can almost feel his hands slide under her shirt, she can imagine that he would use one hand to wrap around her waist and pull her tighter into him while the other teasingly would slide over her skin, inch by inch, feeling it's way up over her ribs and covering her breast in such a way that the fingertips of his index finger and thumb would squeeze her nipple just enough to get a moan out of her. Celeste bites her lip and crosses her legs, realizing that her imagination is no longer only making her feel things in her fantasy - her body is very much screaming for some attention, a whole month of feeling almost exclusively only adrenaline and fear she now finds herself going the complete other way feeling unbearably aroused and sensitive. Suppose that all those emotions can go hand in hand. She hears steps approaching and the shadow of Carlos disappears from the oak leaves she had been staring at while day dreaming.

As she turns around to find out who the owner of the footsteps is, the fantasy Carlos gets replaced by the real Carlos and Celeste just feels her cheeks get hot. She sits up and turns to face him, using the sun shining right in her face as an excuse to cover her eyes with sunglasses.

''Kate said I could find you here. Do you mind? I think I have something I can help you with,'' Carlos's eyes seem to take in her whole body from above, his eyes lingering slightly longer on her bare legs.

Celeste nods and watches him sit down on the blanket, he leans over and grabs a grape and for a moment seems to enjoy the sun as much as she is. Carlos reaches behind him and pulls something out of his back pocket, at first Celeste is not sure what it is but then she realizes it's a.. flashlight? The flashlight has been the only item she has stayed away from, mainly because she needs to not be an absolute whimp when using one, so that takes Celeste out of the equation. Carlos places it in front of he and smiles as if he's just come up with the Christmas present of her dreams.

''Carlos.. I don't..''

''Wait,'' he interrupts Celeste before she can put her abilities down again, '' don't underestimate it.'' He picks it up again and takes it apart.

''This is the best flashlight anybody can have. It will last you the whole Trial and it's easy to handle. ''

Carlos shows Celeste the different features of the flashlight as if he's trying to sell it for a living. He explains to her why the filter he's added to it makes it easier to blind the Killer.

''I have spoken to some people and everyone is willing to help you practice. We will make a plan to keep you safe just so you can get a hang of it. Some Killers cannot be blinded, but Wesker never uses that perk.'' He looks annoyed once more.

Carlos places the flashlight in Celeste's hand and shows where the button is. She's surprised to find it to be very light and almost perfect for her grip.

''Why do you hate Wesker so much?'' Celeste pretends to be more interested in the flashlight in her hand than the question she has been wanting to ask for a while now. She can almost hear Carlos think, looking for the best way to answer her question.

''I have seen how easily he can manipulate people. He isn't doing this for the same reasons the rest of us are. I think even the other Killers aren't too happy with him.''

''Ghostie seemed to be happy enough to send me his message,'' Celeste can hear the hurt in her own voice and feels vulnerable again.

''Ghostie isn't exactly someone who has any real values. For Wesker he's like a toddler that can be bought over with candy,'' Carlos looks towards the Main Building, it's not noticeable, but Carlos has been in the camp for so long he probably has walked as far as the campgrounds are, his gaze turns back to Celeste. He reaches out and puts his hand on hers, trying to reassure her.

''You have learnt a lot in a very short period of time, I think that the flashlight could be what makes your time here much, much easier.''

*************************************************************

That night is the first night in a very long time Celeste doesn't get picked for the Trial. She almost feels like she doesn't know what to do with a whole night off. She watches Ace, Meg, Ada and Kate walk through the gate. Celeste waves goodbye to Kate and goes to sit down next to Bill who seems oddly awake. She catches a glimpse of Carlos and Jill discussing something funny and feels a slight hint of jealousy. She feels like she's being seen as a damsel in distress when she knows that she could make Carlos laugh if she was more relaxed. Bill pushes a glass of whiskey in her hand. She downs the burning liquid in one go and thanks him. He leans back in his camping chair smiling knowingly to himself. Celeste can imagine that being the most left alone person on the camp Bill probably knows more about what's going on around here than anybody else.

''You will get there, kiddo.'' He says quietly to Celeste and looks up at the TV. It's comforting to know that people can relate to how she's feeling. Only a few people have been here from the very beginning, so the majority of Survivors would have felt similarly inadequate at some point.

Celeste looks over at Carlos and notices that he's alone. He seems to feel her looking at him and when he meets Celeste's eyes he winks at her and gives her a cheeky smile. Celeste feels flushed again and returns a shy smile. She's not sure why she's finding it so difficult to approach him and be herself. Celeste forgets that she's watching people getting chased down by crazy Killers as she tells herself off for acting like a teenage girl. She's never really had problems with men, but the kind of men she's used to dating doesn't compare to how that one damned wink made her wish she had invited Carlos to stay and enjoy the sun with her. He had lingered for a moment when he got up, but Celeste just smiled awkwardly.

Celeste gets snapped out of her afternoon in the sun with Carlos by gasps from several people around her and looks up at the screen. The screen is just foggy. She seeks explanation from Bill who's looking over at the Main Building.

''They had a technical problem. It happens sometimes, '' he explains.

''Are they going to be OK? ''

''Oh yeah, we're having a party tonight. ''

While she waits for the four Survivors to return, Bill explains that if there is a malfunction with any of the simulators the Trial doesn't go ahead. It has happened several times, especially after system updates, but it's nothing to worry about. Survivors just use it as an excuse to get drunk and dance away the night. And that's just what happens.

David and Claudette are making cocktails for everyone. It's a great night - Celeste's laughing so much and it's another one of those rare occasions she manages to forget where she is. By the time she decides to slow down with drinks she's already two cocktails over her limit. Celeste sits down and watches a knife throwing match between Meg and Ace. Her head is slightly spinning and she already feels sorry for herself tomorrow. She hasn't seen too much of Carlos the whole night, having so many people around the fire is a rare sight, it's hard to keep an eye out for anyone. Everybody is still dancing away and Celeste decides to do herself a favor and get some water and possibly some fruit.

Celeste makes her way inside her building, the kitchen is lit up by the reflection of the fire so she doesn't bother with the light - she knows for a fact that she will blind herself. She thinks to herself that maybe being here has made her more aware of potential hazards as she opens the fridge and blinds herself with the fridge light anyway. Celeste grabs the jug of water.

''Stop being so cocky, dummy,'' she mutters to herself and turns to walk towards the cupboard to find a glass, but once again, Celeste gets caught by surprise as she hits someone with the jug and nearly drops it.

''Careful, Cielo,'' Carlos's voice catches her ears before she even sees him. He grabs the jug from Celeste and places it on the counter just behind her. Celeste can feel the warmth of his body and holds her breath, a million thoughts rushing through her mind, dizzy from alcohol and desire. She hears the jug hit the counter, but he doesn't move away, the light from the fire makes his eyes light up in a similar way that reminds her of Wesker, only there isn't a hint of mockery in the way Carlos is looking at her.

Before she can act out her very recent fantasies, Carlos has moved his hands from behind her to Celeste's face. He pushes her head slightly up with his index finger as he holds her chin with his thumb and watches her for a second, waiting to see if she will protest. No protest comes and he takes it as a sign to lean down and claim her lips, that lust that's inside her just explodes at the taste of his hunger for her and Celeste's hands are running through his wild hair as if the two of them have done this a million times before.

#fanfic #dead by daylight #lemon #smut #carlos oliveira #albert wesker #the mastermind

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

your palms were sweaty as you adjusted your slacks, making sure the pleats were where they should be with not a wrinkle in sight. you wanted to look professional and put together, at least on the outside, because you knew you were actually about .2 seconds away from falling apart.

a quick glance to the boys at your sides notified you that they weren’t faring much better. atsumu kept fidgeting with his cufflinks, sakusa was so stiff you could knock him over with your pinky, kenma looked like he was about to pass out, bokuto was debating on squeezing under the table in front of you, kuroo was tapping a pattern on his pants (akeelah and the bee style), and akaashi kept reciting ominous poems under his breath.

the only people in the room who looked even remotely fine were osamu, oikawa, sugawara, daichi, and, surprisingly, yachi. osamu was munching on some peanuts that he pulled from... somewhere, while oikawa and sugawara were holding their own conversation by the window. daichi seemed to be minding his own business but you could never really get a proper read on him anyway.

well, you supposed yachi was okay because she knew what to expect. i mean, you were meeting her boss.

after you and kenma had posted your “exposing the hype(r) house” youtube video, an email had come to the both of you, inviting you to visit the “big boss” along with the rest of the crew.

you weren’t necessarily afraid of losing your job; the hype(r) house was already being dissolved and you were (finally!!!) getting to move in with makki and mattsun until you found your own place. you were genuinely excited to put the drama and literal hell behind you and begin to live your life again but...

that didn’t mean meeting the Man™ wasn’t terrifying. it was like being called into the principal’s office, complete with the existential dread and occasional bouts of gassiness.

the door opening made you flinch as you quickly moved out of the way to let the newcomers enter. while they walked past you, you couldn’t contain the shock that overtook your face, your jaw practically on the floor.

the man was massive.

built like a brick wall, the man who you assumed to be the “big boss,” had a chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and massive fucking pecs, his white button up barely closing around them.

beside him stood a tall, lanky man who was dressed suspiciously un-office-like with a red buzz cut and wild eyes that seemed to cut into you as he took his place at the table.

the final man seemed a bit awkward in comparison to the other two, but he was trying to seem unaffected, his purple bowlcut, despite being rather juvenile, fitting perfectly with his slim but toned build and bright complexion.

yachi hurried to greet them, giving all three a blinding smile before motioning for everyone else to take a seat. you ended up between the redhead and atsumu, the former being way too entertained by just your general being. his eyes rarely, if ever, left your face sending shivers down your spine. the remaining members all hesitantly took their seats and “big boss” began.

“it is an honor to meet you all. i am ushijima wakatoshi but you can call me ushijima or wakatoshi or ushiwaka or toshijima or just ushi or just jima or just waka or just toshi.” for a moment you thought he was joking but his face never moved, not even with the awkward silence that followed. redhead seemed rather amused by the whole display and bowl cut looked like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting.

it took an uncomfortably long moment for ushijima to proceed but he did as though nothing had happened. “these are my associates, satori—” redhead gave you a mischievous grin “—and tsutomu.”

“goshiki,” bowl cut interrupted, his voice wavering but his eyes gleaming with righteous indignation as though he was challenging wakatoshi to say something in defiance. instead, ushijima just gave him a nod and he visibly deflated back into his seat.

“goshiki is the social media manager for imla and satori is... satori,” big boss continued, not a hint of emotion on his face. the rest of the table perked up at his comment but atsumu was the only one who apparently had the balls to say anything.

“so yer the one who wrote that shitty among us tweet?” goshiki flushed horribly and sunk further into his plush leather chair, his body language showing he must’ve already gotten an earful about it. “thought it was a good idea,” he muttered while averting his eyes, completely ignoring satori’s cackle from across the wood.

ushijima put up a (massive???) hand to calm the both of them and it instantly worked. satori quieted down though he never lost the mirth in his expression and goshiki straightened up, a new wave of determination crossing his features.

you sat up as well, feeling the shift of energy in the room but you were startled to realize the boss had decided to focus his energy on you, his deep baritone voice calling your full name. “i am extremely sorry. we have failed you as a management team and as men. i have failed you.”

he sounded remarkably remorseful, his brown irises conveying heavy emotion and guilt. you had no idea what to say but he wasn’t done.

“although i do not have full control of the decisions that have been made here, i should have fought harder for what i believed was right and for that, i will forever be sorry.” you shifted uncomfortably under his weighty gaze, not that he noticed because his attention was swiftly taken by kenma at the opposite end of the room.

“who is in charge then? aren’t you like the ceo or whatever?” he asked. ushijima took a moment before nodding very slowly, his attention clearly on something in his head.

thankfully, satori rapidly took over the thread of conversation before the room could fall in tense silence yet again. “there’s a board of old, stuffy guys who basically kicked miracle boy wakatoshi to the curb and make all their decisions without him.”

...miracle boy? what did he have to do to earn that kind of nickname? you shook your head and tuned back in, just as the ceo spoke up once again.

“because i have not succeeded in doing my job properly, i have something to give to you,” ushijima deadpanned, sliding a thick envelope towards you. you carefully grabbed it and opened it up to reveal a thick, thick, wad of cash.

a gasp caught in your throat, words not coming to you as you thumbed through the money. there had to be at least $60k in there, your eyes filling with tears while you took in his generosity. “thank you,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to speak any louder.

wakatoshi nodded at you before addressing the rest of the table about something but you weren’t even listening.

you were so overwhelmed. for the longest time, you’d hated whoever management was for ignoring your pleas for help and trying to placate you with nice dresses and fancy dinners so meeting ushijima was quite the welcomed surprise.

despite everything that occurred, you could tell he felt horrible for letting things slide even though it was technically out of his hands and you couldn’t even articulate how much that meant to you.

the fact that he had gone out of his way to pay you extra, assumingly without the permission of the board, was heartwarming, confusing, shocking, and staggering all at once.

i mean, you could probably describe the past few months as exactly that. so much had happened, so much had changed, and while you could do without some of the life adjustments (the nightmares, spare trauma, and fear of public bathrooms to start), you felt blessed with new friends and the experiences that helped shape you to the person you were now.

the boys didn’t hate you anymore (well, not all of them at least and none were actively antagonizing you), you were seeing dr yamada again, you were getting to move in with your two best friends, you were just given enough money to expand your channel drastically, and you were finally feeling good. better than good.

meiko was behind you and though you missed the person she once was, you were so glad she was out of your life in a way where she couldn’t harm you or the boys any longer.

a grin spread across your face, your cheeks nearly burning from the intensity of it. things were definitely looking up.

a soft call of your name jolted you from your thoughts, your eyes landing on all the boys already standing as they got ready to leave the room. you could sense their worry and you shot them a genuine, reassuring smile before standing yourself.

you waved goodbye to the three men at the table, thanking ushijima profusely for his kindness but he shook you off, insisting that he had just been doing what he should’ve done a long time ago.

what a nice guy.

as you followed the boys out of the building, you took a moment to observe them together with fondness written all over your expression. they were laughing and joking around, the happiest and most carefree you had ever seen any of them. bokuto was begging yachi to get them ice cream, the rest of them piling on until she gave in with a playful roll of her eyes, giggling at the cheer that went up from the group.

atsumu seemed to notice you lagging behind, falling back to join you. “ya okay angel?” he asked, eyes focused on your feet as he slowed down to match your pace.

you didn’t answer for a while, instead focusing on the sun warming your cheeks, the cool breeze messing up your hair, and the sounds of pure joy swirling above you.

“i’m absolutely perfect.” you replied and you actually meant it. “race you to the van?” you sent him an impish grin before taking off, his yells of indignation making you laugh freely as the rest of the boys joined in, right on your heels.

this is it, you thought. no matter what, i’ll have this moment and i’ll be okay.

you’d been through hell and back and you’d survived. you’d been cursed at, choked out, hospitalized, and been beaten at mario kart more times than you could count and you had still made it through. you were resilient and strong and you’d never given up, despite how badly you’d wanted to, multiple times over.

things weren’t perfect, they rarely are, but you knew that if you could make it through all that, you could get through practically anything, especially with the boys by your side.

yeah. i’ll be just fine.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

bonus!!

“told you it sounded stupid as hell.”

“gah, stop talking about it!!”

“you sounded sooooo old ‘shiki, what are you, 92?”

“AAAAAAAAAA!!!”

“satori...”

“what’s up miracle boy?”

“...what is ‘sus’?”

℗ poker face

i’ll be just fine

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - AND THATS A WRAP FOLKS 🥳 wowowow did the ending give me trouble but that’s ok SISJSK the endings will be coming shortly but they might not be daily just cs they may take more time, who knows lmfao i’ll let y’all know :3 AAAA ANYWAYS ILY I HOPE U GUYS LIKED KITH KITH don’t forget to feed me <3

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

2K notes · View notes

rcksmith · 3 years

Text

Desire — Kaz Brekker

(Photo not mine)

Requests: “Hello there! I've been around this blog for a bit now and you are an amazing writer! I was wondering if you would be ok with doing something with 21 28 & 29 from the smut prompts and kaz brekker? If you are uncomfortable please just ignore this!”

“Kaz brekker Smut prompts 28 66?? Love you💖!!”

“I can request Kaz smut prompts 29?❤️”

Smut prompts:

21. “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.”

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

66. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of shot, mention of desire, desire, mention of smut, explicit smut, NSFW.

Word count: 3k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

I hope you like💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There was something about you. Something impossible to decipher, with a glow hovering around you like a electrical energy. Wrapping your whole body in a cloak of magnetism. There was something about the way you spoke, walked, laugh. Something about what it was like to be you, in your beauty and mysteries like a sphinx.

Something that made Kaz Brekker completely furious.

You couldn't be more distorted from the image, in Kaz's mind, than what was to be a peaceful woman. Calm, controled, with steel emotions and wit in eyes. Someone who, like him, knew how to dance the waltz of negotiation, manipulation, who could blend in with the shadows and know the best time to listen more than speak.

You were not like Inej, you were not like Jesper. Hell, you were like nobody Kaz has known in all of his 28 years.

Nothing reminiscent of calm and control would be used to describe what it meant to be you.

Your soul are stormy, loud, obstinate, too stubborn and too talkative. You needed to speak loudly, laugh, move, expose your opinions to the seven winds and to whoever listened the most. You needed to question, inquire, doubt and test the limits of any situation. A direct order for you would be an affront to your free and independent spirit. A command that would curtail your freedom or tame your strong genius was almost like an invitation for you to do exactly the opposite of what they had ordered you to do.

So, for a man of trained reasoning, subtly balanced world, and who was used to his every command being followed vehemently and promptly in blind obedience, such a personality like you was like introducing a disturbing factor capable of shaking all his judgments. Sand in a watch, or stone in a shoe, would be no more a nuisance than a strong nature like your.

The extraordinary stubbornness and mania to counter his orders - when, in your words, they were unreasonable - had made you different from all the women Brekker had ever met. Kaz liked challenges and responsibilities, a good puzzle, but you were on a level far beyond that.

You were a danger to his peace of mind. And you knew that. All his aversion to your indomitable spirit only served as fuel for your own mission in to piss him off. Few men were like Kaz Brekker, you knew that, with a strength of character too powerful to be ignored. He was not just comfortable in his position of authority as he was obviously unable to act in any other way than as a leader. His stoic figure and always so contained in a wall of indifference made you want to ruffle his hair to see if you could remove any emotion. And being a girl who hasn't always liked leaders, Kaz Brekker was a huge temptation. Few moments had been better than those that you managed to piss him off beyond what he could handle.

However, all the reasons why the two of you were so exasperating for each other, did not explain why the air crackled in ambiguity when your eyes met. The hemisphere was adorned in a thought-provoking, poignant veil, like a warm honey flowing down its throat, and there was something else in the way blood flowed like flames of fire through veins of you two.

Jesper said that the sexual tension between you was so tangible that it could be cut by one of Inej's knives, but you refused to think of Kaz that way. At least until that moment.

Not pure images of what the infamous Brekker could do to you between four walls swept you like the strong Arabian wind. Making you be surprisingly breathless. Kaz was not a man whose private life was exposed, nor was he involved with many women, but you have heard two or three of them when they were drunk saying that Kaz Brekker in the room could be incendiary.

Everyone knew that his touch reserve didn't limit him to anything, but that his job was at the top of the priority list and that sexual encounters were almost never on that list.

"It was not my fault!” Jesper defended himself one night, slightly drunk, sitting at the club's round table next to the other crows “I didn't know he was married to another man! That damn pretty face seduced me!”

"Did he seduce you?" You asked, skeptical and playful.

"I swear to God! And it had been a long time since I had sex with anyone, and I went… ”

“But you did sex last week." Inej laughed, chocked.

"Exactly!" Jesper said, as if he were obvious.

You laughed with your beer glass in your hand, taking another sip.

“Is a week a long time to not sleep with anyone?" Matthias retorted, trying not to laugh.

“Are you going to tell me that is not?” Jesper and Nina spoke at the same time.

“If a man has time for sex more than once a week, he clearly doesn't have much to do. And I'm sure I gave Jesper a lot of tasks that would keep him busy.” Kaz narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Jesper hid his guilt behind the rim of his beer glass, looking to the side.

"So you are saying that you are a very busy man?" You teased, trying not to laugh at the scathing look Kaz sent you.

"I disagree. The values of hard work and discipline cannot match the hot body of a woman in bed.” Matthias said, exchanging a brief conspiratorial look with Nina, who winked at him.

"There are more important things." Said Kaz.

"Like what?" You rested your chin on the back of the hand whose elbow was on the table, the playful look of a rebellious student.

"Progress." Kaz held your gaze.

He wasn't going to take your bait. But you didn't give up easy.

"Tell me, if God gave you a deal: all the hunger in the world would be extinguished in exchange for you never being able to have sex again, what would you choose?" your eyes had a teasing feline glow.

At that moment, Kaz felt a shiver up the back of his neck, like a warm breath of autumn. Something crawled, like a snake, across his rib cage and down to his groin, pumping blood like fire through his veins.

He held your gaze, but the feline glow in your eyes promised to contain the most ardent sins. Suddenly, Kaz's mind was flooded by the wave of obscene images of you, on his bed; moaning, squirming, shouting his name and being very obedient with every order he gave you.

He would make you such a good girl...

"I don't believe in God." He replied succinctly, the predator's eyes still in your eyes audacious feline's.

A big, satisfied smile spread across your face, and you said: "As I thought. Bad luck for hungry people.”

Realizing that he had fallen right into your cunning trap, Kaz got rid of your diabolical magnetism and cursed.

“I didn't say…” he stopped, impatient “It doesn't matter. I have more important things to do than waste time here.”

But the smile you hid behind the glass was noticeable to Kaz.

After that night, the crackling, gasping flame that circled the two of you intensified to alarming levels. Kaz could feel you holding your breath when he was too close, and you could see him squeezing his cane harder when you sweetened your voice for him.

However, regardless of Kaz's wanted to fold you at a table and put an end to your brat girl pose, enjoying the groans he was sure you would let out, the two of you still fought like dog and cat.

Just as it was now.

“What do you mean, I'm not going?!” You looked at Kaz, amazed, when he told you that you would not participate in the robbery that week “I know that security system like the back of my hand!”

It was true, what you had of stubbornness, you had of technological intelligence. There was no computer that you would not hack, a program that you would not hack, and a system that you would not unlock. Your genius with technology made up for all your lack of obedience.

But Kaz ignored. “I've already told you. It's a more dangerous mission than you're used to and we don't have time for the plans you come up with right away.” He needled you.

“Are you referring to Switzerland?” You were never anything short of direct and inquiring. It was logical that you would question every orden. “But I already told you that when the alarm went off your plan didn't work anymore! I was more useful inside to deactivate the alarm than waiting outside.”

And stubborn. Holy God, how stubborn you were!

"And it cost you to get shot."

"But it was just a shot!"

Kaz looked at you, puzzled. “Just?! And wasn't it enough ?! You put the whole team at risk!”

“But if I hadn't deactivated the alarm, we would all be arrested! And only I knew how to do that!”

"My fucking God, isn't there a speck of common sense in you?!"

But you answered boldly: "Not when you impose clueless plans on me."

Mortified would be an understatement to describe how he was now. What an unbearable creature! Kaz felt the anger spread from his neck to his face, igniting his breath and squinting his eyes in annoyance.

Why was it so difficult for you to follow a simple goddamn rule?!

“Besides, your initial plan was flawed and there was no reason for me to be out when it was necessary inside and...” And you kept talking!

If you had noticed Kaz's completely enraged state in front of you, you would have been scared, shut up and ran. But, truth be told, Kaz suspected that even if you knew how to read the murderous humor in his eyes, you wouldn't have left that office. Much less be afraid. You could argue with the demon. And you would probably beat him out of tiredness.

However, regardless of the desire to shake you up, to see if that put any good sense in you, in that second, watching you gesture with your hands, defending your point of view as if it were the england queen's crown, something swept Kaz's body from the top of his head with dark hair to the tips of his illustrated boots.

The sound of the world was drowned out by the flow of blood itself in his veins. His heart hammered hard in his chest and, in that instant, a sharp sting in his groin and the pit of his stomach set him on fire.

His gaze went down to your mouth, which kept moving. And when it came up to your eyes, your stubborn and defiant gaze sent Kaz's rationality into space. He dropped the cane abruptly, which toppled to the floor with a hollow crack, and advanced towards you in firm and determined steps.

Gluing his gloved hands to your face, Kaz silenced all your protests with a strong kiss. Hot, fiery, domineering. The kind of kiss that held years of camouflaged desire, years of irritability, years of an unnerving desire to make you shut up with all the perverse forms that existed.

You weren't afraid of him. But you should. You should if you knew everything he wanted to do with you.

However, as if you have been burning in the same desire for years, you responded to that kiss with the same urgency. The same hunger. Kaz slipped his hands into your hair, closing his fingers there and deepening the kiss with ferocity. He felt beside himself, like a hungry wild animal that had been denied food for years and that only now had its teeth set on its prey. You moaned against his lips, bringing your hands to his lean, strong biceps, squeezing your fingers there.

You both needed air, but neither seemed to give a damn about that. Misted of desire that burned like a fire in their bodies, Kaz pushed the two of you backwards, slamming your back against the wall and swinging a frame beside. You gasped, and the gesture made it possible for Kaz to invade your mouth with his tongue, hunting every piece of hot meat. You two fought the same battle in that kiss: invade, dominate, conquer.

They both wanted to take the waltz, but Kaz would never let you conduct the show.

He pulled your wrists up, pinning them with one hand against the wall, leaving you immobile while sinking his mouth further into yours. Kaz felt you try to get rid of his tight grip, but he was stronger than you. And much more when he have a objective.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He murmured against your mouth, the tip of his tongue playing with your bottom lip. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Was impossible for you to control the loud moan that escaped. Your body trembling with desire, your legs wobbly, your wet core vibrating with his words. Kaz Brekker was a fallen angel. With a beauty and charm you've never been immune to.

How can you think you'd win the dominance game with him?

And, like the fallen angel he was, his smug and arrogant smile painted the corner of his lips when he saw what his lines did to you.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” Kaz mocked “If I knew it was only necessary to do this for you to shut up...” he brought his lips closer, his voice hitting yours “I would have fucked you like the naughty brat you have been a long time.”

If his caustic and maddening kisses hadn't been enough to break you in half, that statement would have done all the work.

In that second, you hoisted your white flag, biting your lip in a needy moan and closing your eyes for a second by the overwhelming vibration of your core. God, you needed more. Whatever he gave you. Anything he wanted to give you. You just needed more.

"Are you going to be good?" He played with the dough you were in his hands, his devilish mouth going down your neck, leaving a trail of fire and debris wherever he went.

You agreed, desperately. “Yes, Sir."

That title seemed to do things with Kaz. Because in the next second, his mouth was back on your. More urgent, more needy, more dominating. You shifted your hips for more friction with his, and Kaz rewarded your obedience by pulling one of your thighs forward, making your skirt go up, aligning your thigh on his hips and giving access for his member to fit perfectly against your pulsating core.

You moaned louder this time. Fingers clenching, heart pumping frantically. Kaz pulled his lips away from you for a second, taking his hand off your thigh and bringing it to your mouth.

“Pull.” He ordered, referring to the glove.

You murmured a low, excited moan, bringing your mouth to the glove and clenching your teeth on the cloth at the top of his middle finger. Satisfied, Kaz pulled his hand back, watching the alabaster skin peel away from the leather fabric. As soon as he was free, he removed the glove from your mouth, replacing it with his own and stealing all your breath in that fiery kiss.

His free hand wandered over your thigh, touching you for the first time with a touch that promised to show you all the most delicious and secret sins in the world. His tongue wrapped around your again, and the moan you let out was even greater when his long fingers brushed against your wet, throbbing core.

"S-sir!" You sobbed, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

"Look at you." His fire voice beat against your lips, the tightness against your wrists getting stronger, more possessive "I’ ve only started using my fingers and you ’re already shaking"

Your body cried out in unbridled desire, sobs mingling with loud moans and heavy sighs as Kaz tormented you with his fingers. He touched you, slid, opened and sank, increasing the volume of your pleas.

“P-please" You begged, the body in need, the urge too urgent.

Kaz looked you in the eye, a dark, malicious gleam burning in his Egyptian blue irises. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" He teased you.

But you no longer cared about his teasing. With your lips swollen and red, your heart racing and the core pulsing in despair on his experienced fingers, you were already surrendered.

"Please. I n-need." You mumbled submissively, rummaging your hips in his hand.

"I bet if I wanted to fuck you against my desk, here and now, you would be very happy to do it, wouldn't you?"

He was foisting all of his dominance on you, bending you to your knees for him. And you knew that. You knew he was taking years of anger out on you. But you couldn't care less. You wanted him. Ardently. Desperately. And if it was a good girl Kaz wanted, damn it, you would be a good girl for him.

You readily agreed, your eyes shining in supplication.

“Good.” Kaz pulled you brutally off the wall, turning you over to the table and pushing your chest against the icy wood, pulling your hips at him. “Because that's exactly what is going to happen.”

Suddenly, desire and hunger roared like a wild beast. Kaz watched you, bent over his desk, obedient, surrendered, offering every inch of your body to him.

His breath was burning in his throat and it was no longer possible to order his thoughts, contain his euphoria. He would fuck you so hard that it would make that memory the only thought when you remembered him. When you dare to rebut his orders.

Kaz pulled you skirt up and your panties down, letting out a groan that sounded more like a growl as he saw your wet core. Pulsing and desperate for him. For anything he wanted to give you. It sparked a fervent desire that Brekker had never felt in his life, devastating any possibility of thinking about anything other than fucking you.

Playing with your fingers in your slick, wet folds, you whimpered again, the core pulsing whenever he teased you inside, pressing his fingertips there but never entering.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" His voice came over the top of your shoulder, hoarse, animalistic, full of profane desires.

"Please." You were quick to beg “I do what you want! But just...please, please… ”

You already felt your eyes watering from over-stimulation, your heart burning so hard it was beating, your core aching from emptiness.

You sealed the end of the game between you. Kaz had won. In a triumphant checkmate.

And you didn't have to beg again. Barely seeing when he unbuttoned his pants, you just reasoned his hard, hot, pulsating member by opening your from the inside. Claiming everything that was yours as his in a strong, desperate, hungry lunge.

"S-sir!" You screamed, your nails scraping the wood from the table, the core pulsing overwhelmingly around his rigid member.

In a more badly lunge, Kaz sank completely into you, moaning loudly as he hit rock bottom. The gloved hand slid over your shoulder, propelled you to him while the bare hand tightened on your waist, hitting you at a steady, raw, animalistic rhythm.

The sounds were pornographic, dirty and loud, echoing off the walls. The air was hot like molten lava, pungent and muffled, driving you two lost breath. Their bodies clashed as if the world was going to end tomorrow, in aggressive, rough thrusts. These were thrusts that made half of his things on the table fall to the floor, mixing in a mess that would serve as a reminder later about the sinful activities you two did.

You screamed when Kaz took on more force, his fingers squeezing you so hard that they would leave you with marks on your shoulder and waist the next day.

"Fucking hell!" Kaz snarled between his teeth, feeling your flesh throb around him, squeezing he with such desperation that he knew you were close.

You sobbed, tears streaming down the corners of your eyes as you pushed your ass towards him, trying to bring him as deep as possible, as deep inside you as possible. But every time his pelvis smashed into your ass, a loud moan and the feeling of being completely full drowned you.

You begged, pleaded, for something you didn't know. But Kaz seemed to know. Taking both hands to your hips, your pace became even more unperturbed, pushing you to the limit until you cum in a scream in his name, your lungs on fire. Kaz came close behind, sinking as deep as possible and pouring all the hot liquid into you. Almost like a brand.

The air was filled with sex, lust and desire, filled only by the sound of their ragged breaths that struggled to stabilize.

You were still panting when Kaz's voice came after you: "Whatever I want, don't I?"

A deal with the devil.

3K notes · View notes

beann-e · 3 years

Text

Haikyu! boys reacting to their s/o flinching during an argument

Karasuno boys reacting to their s/o flinching

Tsukishima

“ what’s the problem are you serious are you not even understanding why we’re here in the first place“

“ oh I understand—really but I just don’t care “ he moved to think before speaking

“ I actually don’t think i’ve ever had one of those cares when I hear you talk “

you fumed “ i’m so so sick of this Tsukishima i’m so sick of everything having sarcasm in it —you can’t be serious for two seconds “

he moved to throw up a peace sign before his fingers dropped one by one “ is that two seconds — i’m not sure if you meant literally because according to you I look like a grade school swim team member who doesn’t know basic communication skills”

you felt your throat beginning to hurt you’d been screaming with him for hours over his comments he’d made about the cake you ate earlier

as soon as you sat down on the couch he spoke telling you

‘ babe maybe you should’ve saved that cake for later I can feel the extra weight weighing down mine and your side of the couch ‘

“ I can’t be serious no you can’t be serious — you fucking told me that your sorry i’m so skinny that my legs look like toothpicks in the shorts that you bought me “ he screamed

“ you bought them on purpose they were a size large you know i’m a size small you just wanted to be fucking funny “

you scoffed as you two were now standing in the kitchen while he was cooking dinner. His body turning to look down on you.

you could never say tsukishima got mad at you he never did he would just get really annoyed and make more sarcastic comments then he did in his free time but right now you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him

About his voice

About his body that was making him seem like the boss at the end of a video game you just couldn’t beat

“ i’m just really tired of everything being turned into a slick comment with you tsukki and then you can’t even say a shitty sorry you just look at me like i’m crazy “

he sighed as he looked away “ look baby— “ he pushed up his glasses that were threatening to fall

“ i’m really sorry for all the mean , awful , accurate , things I said “

your body went hot as you screamed “ THATS NOT A FUCKING SORRY “

“ well why the hell would you think you’d get one from me “

he screamed at you backing you up eyes still downcast on you

“ you —annoying —child —every fucking five seconds your complaining about something now it’s how I talk ? before it was how I don’t show you enough physical affection in public are you serious “

you heart quickened as his body jerked at you almost threatening you “ what else do you want from me huh “

“ want me to fuckin—“

you closed your eyes and your body moved on instinct to cover your face body sinking into itself in a hole before standing up trying to protect yourself as the loud clack went through the house

Your breathing fast as you had all the worse possibilities move through your head that was rattling along with your body in fear

“ aw damn — their cracked anyways we gotta figu—“

his voice stopped as he came face to face with your covered body “ a-are you dancing or something why the fuck are you —“

then his thoughts clicked as his blurry eyes ran over the way your arms were above your head and body tucked in as if trying to limit the pain you would feel wherever he touched you

“uh “ he coughed as you relaxed looking at the male with wide eyes as you spoke

“ no I didn’t —I didn’t think “

“ um — so i’m not gonna take offense and instead i’m just gonna “

he moved to sit his glasses on the table before his hand grabbed your head forcefully and pushed you into his stone cold chest your body flaring up and shaking

“ yeah you totally did —I wasn’t sure because I can’t see but yeah you did “

“ I - — I didn’t mean to —it was just so loud I thought — and you were yelling “

“ I would never hit you — I would never ever hit you with anything except my beautiful words “

you pushed out of his chest with a small smile trying to seem upset “ your still joking after something like that “

“ well i’m not a soft person what do you expect I mean I feel bad really bad but — “

“ I know I know — it’s better to make jokes than make it sad and make the both of us feel uncomfortable “

he moved his head down to kiss you softly “ I promise you it was just my glasses falling I would never hurt you y/n no matter if we fight or not “

he scoffed “ I love you and all that other crap blah blah “

you ran away with your hands to your ears “ no no I feel like you just put a curse on me — you’ve hugged me , kissed me , apologized and told me you love me all at one time I have to call yams and get an exorcist over here “

he scoffed “ just call Hinata his non stop talking could pass as an exorcism “

you smiled as he whispered small apologies in your ear all night the both of cringing when he would say them knowing he hated you feeling that way but also hating how the word sorry rolled off his tounge

Hinata

“ Great king that Great King this — I must beat The king — I have to beat this person and that person your always beating someone Hinata “

you cried as you stood fighting with him in the gym as he had sweat running down his forehead

you’d originally came here to watch him play a game between a team he had yet to beat that he told you they’d practiced for months to win.

Only for them to lose In a straight set of 2 that caused him to stay after and continue to practice in the same spot all night

You being the loving s/o you were decided to stay with him

only for him to take your kindness for granted and practice at the gym until 3 in the morning letting you wake up to the constant thump of the ball against the wall and your body shivering on the bench while he wore his jacket

“ DID YOU EVEN NOTICE I FELL ASLEEP “

“ of course I did “

“ then why didn’t you give me your jacket —babe I woke up freezing “

“ because I wanted it too— if I gave you my jacket what would I wear was I suppose to freeze “

you knew all rationality was thrown out the window when Hinata lost a match and right now that’s exactly what was happening

“ you can’t keep expecting me to put you first — it’s stupid “

he raised his voice “ the only thing i’ll put first is this ball in my hands and you may come in third to my team other than that — I don’t know what you want from me “

“ I want you to understand i’m here too —not just that lifeless ball Hinata “

he screeched at your words “ it’s not fucking lifeless”

“ I worked hard for this I worked hard for everything when I pick up that ball I put my energy into it when I —“

his hand outstretched as you sunk to the floor ears covered as you ducked into your knees hearing the loud smack moved to every corner of the room

“ that’s me putting life into the bal—baby where’d you go—if this is you telling me to stop—ok I get it I need to calm down “

he looked around the gym eyes finally searching the floor for the ball he’d thrown until they landed on your huddled figure

“ babe what —why are you on the floor come on its dirty get off “ you shook at his voice

“ w—why are you so scared I don’t understand come on stand up y/n “

you tried to calm down your body knowing you couldn’t tell him what just happened you knew Hinata wasnt innocent but you still didn’t want to break his heart not tonight not more than it already was argument or not

you moved to stand up as he grabbed the ball and threw it harshly to the wall for a second time

your body reacting out of control as it thought back to that moment of fear you had seeing him that angry at you and the same noise that followed after

“ y/n-chan did you just—“ his eyes creased “ baby why did you “

he said quietly thinking “ baby who hurt you “

his voice was concerned as he raced to you who shook a bit at his changing emotions taking a shaky step back to get away from him his eyes falling as he finally realized softly speaking

“ o-oh I hurt you “

he sat thinking as he pulled your arms from your face slowly “ I—i’m so sorry I don’t —it was the ball really it was the ball it went woosh and so I went weee to go get it I swear “

you straightened up cursing your body for reacting the way it did “ I didn’t mean to scare you that way I just —I was upset over a match and wanted to prove a point “

he moved to hug you tightly “ I’m so greatful for you and so lucky to have someone who would even stay with me for over 7 hours in a gym hearing nothing but loud noises and echoes —someone who’d fall asleep on the cold floor because they love me so much “

he hugged you tighter kissing your head repeatedly whispering the same line over and over “ i’d never hit you —i’d never hate you or be mad at you “

your tense nerves leaving as you sighed out wrapping your arms around his body “ I —I know and i’m sorry “

“ nothing to be sorry for I do need to put you first and I will from now on —I will “

he pulled you back as he spoke “ i’ll start putting you first and taking your needs into account and you start speaking up and saying no to me instead of doing everything I do or want you to do “

he smiled as he held his pinkie out “ promise baby? “

you shook your head in a yes smiling up at him “ promise “

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pugh-bug · 3 years

Text

Scott Lang x Reader Chapter 13

This chapter follows directly on from chapter 12 I REALLY need to make a master list I know. Ended up way longer than I expected but I hope you enjoy! :)) and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list <3

Warnings: smut, age gap, swearing as fucking always

‘Oh fuck,’ his eyelids fluttered as he rode into you. You wanted to take his shirt off and take all of him in but the pleasure was keeping you lay down. Scott felt your walls tightening as you struggled to decide where to look and what to do with your hands. He seemed to sense the indecision because in a surprisingly wholesome twist, Scott’s hand found its way in your hair before caressing your cheek. All you could hear was both of your heavier breaths matching each other’s rhythms. You’d known before (and of course said before) that you loved Scott but having him look at you with such compassion in bed made you know for certain.

You both let the pause continue but Scott’s impatience was obvious, despite him trying to hide it for your sake. ‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ you finally said before smirking up at him. The atmosphere took an instant shift as the two of you fought with the fabric and felt it rip off of his chest. And oh fucking hell was the sight of Scott shirtless a treat. You knew he worked out, Tony had a gym everyone used for training, but you never knew he had actual ab muscles. Scott chuckled as he watched you stare at them in awe. Fuck fuck fuck. You couldn’t believe what was happening.

Scott’s finger below your chin guided your gaze back to his green eyes. There was no hesitation after that. As the two of you kissed with lust filled ferocity, you postured up and pushed down on Scott’s shoulders so you could sit in his lap. You tried to continue devouring each other’s taste but the sound that slipped from you as you sank down onto him was pornographic and distracting as hell. You rode him slowly because after such a long wait why not tease him? He could have made this happen ages ago. Selfish of him really.

‘Jesu-fuck Y/N,’ the poor man struggled to keep his head facing you and not back looking at the ceiling. ‘You feel amazing,’ you couldn’t help but beam at his praise. After spending so many nights touching yourself to the fantasy of riding him, having it happen in real life was overwhelming. His large hands gripped your waist while you continued your torment of slowly filling yourself up and down. You didn’t want this to just become another memory in the past that would never happen again. Scott’s firm hands digging into your waist brought you away from the nagging thoughts. ‘Fuck you’re so tight.’ He felt so good it was driving you insane. As he hit your g-spot dangerously slowly you let out a whine.

‘You..can go,’ he already sounded wrecked which made you smug as anything. ‘Faster than that Y/N.’ His eyes were closed but you were determined to keep yours open to look at his face. The obvious pleasure he was feeling. You decided to oblige him and speed up, never once did his cock grazing your g spot not send wonderful shivers down your spine. Your face felt hot- your whole body was on fire.

It was your turn to throw your head back. No one had made you feel as high as Scott, not even close. The man was fucking addictive.

All you could focus on was the full feeling you had in your stomach, Scott’s wrecked voice and his firm grip on your waist. Part of you wished they were around your neck. Maybe next time. ‘Scotttttt….’ you moaned. He fucking adored hearing you moan and hearing you say his name was going to send him over the edge. You wanted to see it. With desperate, yet shaky hands, you thought about crawling his back but it felt forced for a moment. Once again he sensed your minor uncertainty and handled it for you. ‘Come here,’ his voice was husky but breathless as he pulled you into a kiss while you rode him faster and faster.

Your walls were tightening and your toes began to curl on the bedsheets but you felt a sudden impulse to move so you pulled him on top of you. It broke the kiss but it meant on Scott’s next thrust you felt him even deeper and a prolonged moan left your open mouth as you came. Your eyes closed and your body jerked and writhed underneath Scott’s panting chest. He didn’t move for a moment, completely lost in witnessing you enjoy every second of your orgasm. It hit you in waves that felt endless for a moment before your entire body stopped its uncontrollable writhing that pushed Scott over the edge.

He came inside you and, for a moment, almost lost balance. You were so in shock from the huge mass of pleasure you’d just felt that your chest was rising and falling heavier than it did after a run. That orgasm had hit you like a brick. You struggled to sit up as you felt Scott, to your surprise, move down your body. How did he have any energy left? You were exhausted.

One more feeble attempt to sit up was not needed because Mr Scott Lang had decided to surprise you by inserting his fingers in your pussy and smugly licking your clit. Without the much needed warning. ‘Ah- too sensitive!’ You squealed, backing away from Scott on the bed to escape. He was definitely amused. ‘You okay over there?’ Wow. After the sounds he had made?! He was going to make you out to be overwhelmed? However his confident side made you wet and you were not one to complain after sex so:

‘I’m great.’ You smiled coyly and closed your legs as if you weren’t leaking his cum all over the bed and just there to talk. Scott smiled and made his way back over to you like a panther on some sort of sick hunt. ‘You’re trouble.’ He responded, almost judging but still humorous. When you didn’t respond you saw his face change to show some insecurity about his actions. ‘Are you already regrett-‘

‘I regret not getting you to slam me against a wall to be honest.’ You hugged your knees, your breath had returned to normal and you were grinning at Scott like a cat that had gotten its own way. Finally.

‘Well shit,’ he paused with his hand on his forehead and a raise of his eyebrows. ‘That can be arranged.’

Yes but not now, you thought, too tired for that. Must sleep. Must lie down.

The bed, despite being wet, was so inviting and Scott following your lead and wrapping his arms around your waist even more so. You felt safe next to him. At peace. You heard Scott’s breathing normalise but neither one of you spoke. There was no awkwardness like you’d feared and apart from the horrible intrusive thought ‘Am I better or worse than his ex wife’ you felt calm and… happy. Really happy. Tentatively, Scott’s hands found themselves stroking your hair. He ran his fingers through it gently and you smiled and closed your eyes. The smell of sex had filled the room but your arousal was somehow being overpowered by the calm. And there was one question you were curious about.

‘How long for you?’

You expected a brief silence or atleast a ‘Huh’ due to your vagueness but Scott just knew exactly what you’d meant.

‘Atleast a year,’ you quietly turned to face him so he knew he had your full attention. ‘But I really knew when you came to comfort me, on my anniversary.’ You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows and scoff. ‘You mean when I came to annoy you on the roof?’ Scott’s smirk grew into a full grin at you. ‘And why is that so surprising?’ To be quite honest you’d felt like an intrude that night and not much help to him at all but it was nice to know he felt differently. He looked so pretty lay opposite you, your hands found their way into his hair ruffling it even more. ‘I don’t know.’ You lied.

‘What about you?’ It was his turn to play with your hair again. Oh that was easy. Too easy. ‘First day I met you,’ it was growing harder to look Scott in the eye as you admitted it. ‘I kept thinking about y- I only ever asked you dumb questions as an excuse to talk to you until- well until we were friends.’ He was listening intently which you were not used to men doing. “Were?” Scott questioned knowingly, he waited for your response and you could practically see his ego growing by the second. Of course ‘were’.

‘Well would you call this friendship?’ You laughed, gesturing to the two of you in bed slightly sweaty from moments earlier. After a second too long for your liking passed your eyes widened at the sight of Scott’s hoodie on the floor. You’d forgot he’d brought it with him and it looked comfy as anything. ‘Hold on I’ve always wanted to do this,’ you grinned excitedly like a little kid and Scott watched you in amusement. Struggling for a moment, you pulled the black hoodie over your head (because your hair wasn’t messy enough already) and gestured proudly to your new (stolen) outfit. It smelt like him which just made you giddier.

‘You’ve never slept with a guy and stolen his hoodie before?’ Scott raised his eyebrows clearly not believing you or understanding the appeal. ‘They’ve been out the fucking door too fast.’ You shrugged trying not to let that harsh fact sink in. Oh well. You were feeling good now at least. Scott frowned but once again you couldn’t help but not wait for his reply- just in case it hurt you in some way and brought your high down. ‘Kinda hungry not gonna lie.’ You hadn’t even eaten yet but that wasn’t what you were really thinking about as you stood over Scott as he sat on the bed.

Slyly, he ran his calloused hands under his hoodie and up your torso making you gasp. He couldn’t help but grin at the strong reactions you had to his mild touches. Deciding to really tease you, Scott’s hand traveled down to your pussy so he could finger you but being overstimulated you whined and grabbed his wrist. The man just thought you sounded pretty. ‘Fuck- you’re dripping sweetheart.’ You grinned once again at his words and clenched your thighs together. ‘Who’s fault is that?’

Tags: @supraveng @thottio @wandamaximoffshoe @aliceblxck @merleisapartygod @brianmayscurls

#marvel #marvel fandom #paul rudd #scott lang #fan fic writer #antman #scott lang x reader smut #scott lang slow burn #scott lang x y/n #scott lang smut #scott lang fanfiction #scott lang x reader #x reader #smut #riding #antman x reader #antman smut #marvel x y/n

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mcbethins · 2 years

Note

Baby Kuai?

I knew you would ask about this one! <3 You know what, I will just share what I have written so far :)

"Hey buddy," Johnny's voice was soft and light as he reached for the frightened child.

Kuai Liang flinched, backing up until he hit the wall. "St-stay back," he held out a hand, tell-tale blue-white energy swirling in his palm. Only, there was no ice weapon. Erratic crystals condensed and then dissipated almost immediately. Brown eyes widened in panic.

Johnny's heart broke as the boy slid down the wall, sitting against it with his knees drawn to his chest. He was shivering and panting frosty breaths.

With alarm, Johnny realized ice was creeping over him from his feet, slowly encasing him. He stared up at them, eyes full of fear and desperation.

"Hush, it's alright," Hanzo drew the shuddering boy into his arms.

Kuai Liang gasped, sagging in his embrace as the ice melted away. Hanzo swayed them slightly, muttering words of comfort.

Kuai Liang wrapped his small arms around Hanzo's neck and held onto him, burrowing his face beneath Hanzo's chin. Hanzo hummed deep in his chest, eyes shutting tightly for a moment.

A wave of empathy passed over the actor as he watched Hanzo rub Kuai's back in soothing patterns.

It was bad enough that his husband was a child. Kuai was malnourished, horribly frightened, and Johnny could see bruises littering his back.

Seriously? He had to get de-aged with wounds to match?

"Hey kiddo," he said softly, carefully smoothing back the child's bangs. "Sorry I scared ya."

Kuai sniffed, turning his head enough to cast Johnny a weary look. "Please don't hurt me," he whimpered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed into Hanzo's chest. "Didn't mean to…don't know how I got here, I'm sorry." More ice formed only to melt as the boy cried his eyes out.

"You're alright, no one's going to hurt you." Thankfully, Hanzo's deep voice seemed to calm him somewhat. Hell, Johnny found it calming and he was a grown ass adult.

"You're not?" Kuai hiccuped. Despite being covered in tears and snot, he was obviously an adorable kid. Johnny was struggling not to steal him from Hanzo and hold him himself.

"No, we're not. You're safe here, Kuai Liang."

"You know my name," Kuai murmured, retracting his arms snuggling against Hanzo's broad chest. "But you're not Lin Kuei?"

"No, we are not. We're-" Hanzo made eye contact with Johnny who shrugged.

"We're uh, we're gonna be your friends alright kid?"

Kuai's eyelids drooped, "M'not allowed to have friends."

Oh. Fuck the Lin Kuei.

"But you'd like a friend wouldn't you, Kuai Liang?" Hanzo asked, terribly soft.

Kuai whimpered, "...I…V-Vortex said I can't have any friends and I can't go home and-" he cut himself off abruptly, fear in his eyes. "S-sorry, sorry I didn't mean to talk about it!" He was wide awake now, and absolutely petrified.

"Shhhh, it's alright. It's alright," Hanzo soothed him. "You're just answering my question."

Kuai blinked up at him, "Why are you being nice to me? Is this a test? Did I fail? Because I cried? Vortex said-"

"Hey, kiddo, Vortex isn't here. Don't worry about what he says, ok?" Johnny was hoping to divert Kuai before he propelled himself into another panic attack.

That brought Kuai up short. "He's not…where is he?"

Oh boy. They hadn't discussed the whole "The Lin Kuei you know are dead and gone including your brother and there was a second one but they're also gone" thing.

"The Lin Kuei aren't here and they can't find you," Hanzo told him gently, but with his usual confidence. Hopefully little Kuai would buy it.

Kuai Liang frowned, "But…the grandmaster said he would know if we ran and-" Kuai swallowed. "No one leaves the Lin Kuei," he whispered. "They'll, I'm, I'm gonna die, I don't wanna die!," He broke down sobbing again, only this time he was absolutely hysterical.

Hanzo held him tightly and Johnny could feel the warmth emanating from the man. "You'll be alright, I will protect you, Kuai Liang," he promised, voice hitching ever so slightly. That was a loaded statement, Johnny just didn't know how loaded.

Kuai's hysteria dwindled over time; Hanzo's heat was lulling him to sleep. Johnny briefly wondered if Hanzo did something similar for adult Kuai.

Kuai's hands were curled up against Hanzo's chest, as was the rest of him. Johnny patted his head gently. Kuai sighed, eyes closed. As soon as Johnny let his arm fall to his side, Hanzo pressed his lips to the boy's head.

"I will take him home," he murmured, voice rough.

"Yeah…except he's from America…"

Hanzo quirked a brow, expression dark.

"So…maybe he'd be more comfortable as Casa de Cage, instead of your place."

"...I am not leaving you alone with him."

"And I don't expect you to, man," Johnny put his hands up, placating. "I'm just saying, I think he'd be more comfortable somewhere that resembles his childhood home."

Hanzo inhaled monumentally and let his breath out in a rush. "You are…right." The 'But I don't like it, you American memelord' went unsaid.

"You uh, know where I live right?"

Hanzo sighed, shuffling Kuai into one massive arm and placing his other hand on Johnny's shoulder. Without another word the three were gone in a torrent of flame.

***

Kuai Liang woke up slowly, reluctant to leave the hazy warmth cocooning him.

He didn't want to get up and train, he just wanted to sleep a little longer. He was so tired. But Bi-Han would be annoyed with him again. Kuai sighed, burying his face into the softest pillow he had ever felt.

Wait.

He didn't have soft pillows. He had a cot and a thin blanket and-

Oh. Oh.

He bolted upright, eyes flying open. Where was he? How did he…slowly, memories of the strange night before came back to him.

Those two men…they…they were nice to him. The yellow one especially; he was so warm and soft.

Kuai Liang wanted to snuggle under the blankets that reminded him of his bedroom, his real bedroom.

No, he couldn't think of home. He wasn't supposed to, he'd get hit again. Except, Vortex wasn't here. This definitely wasn't the Lin Kuei…

Kuai sighed, deciding he'd better figure out where the heck he was and whether he was safe or not. He…had felt safe last night. He wanted those men…

Knock knock.

Kuai threw himself under the bed, curling into a ball.

"Hey Kuai, buddy. I'm gonna come in ok?"

That voice…the man with the sunglasses. He said they were friends…but what if it was a trick? What if they'd just send him back to the Lin Kuei? What if this was all a test?!

Kuai whined, tears freezing before they could fall. He couldn't stop it, his whole body was trembling with fear.

Weak. Pathetic. Not good enough.

The door opened. Kuai whimpered, closing his eyes. Couldn't think, couldn't-

"Aw man, I made soooo many pancakes and now I'm gonna have to eat them all by myself," the man complained.

What?

Kuai opened his eyes slowly, watching a pair of sock covered feet shuffle around the room.

They pointed toward the bed, stopping right in front of Kuai. Then there were knees with a low "oof!" And then a face.

Kuai liked his smile.

"Hey bud, you think you could come eat some pancakes so I don't put myself in a food coma?" The man asked.

Kuai sniffed, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not allowed to."

"Aw kid, come on out. Let's talk about that."

Kuai warily crept out from under the bed after the man's retreating face.

"There ya go," the man ruffled Kuai's hair. Kuai wanted him to do it again. "Well, first things first," the man stuck out his hand. "I'm Johnny Cage. You can call me Johnny."

"You're…American?"

"Oh yeah baby," Johnny said. "This," he spread his arms wide. "Is my humble abode."

"... We're in America?" Kuai asked, voice hushed.

"Yep, the Good ole U S of A."

Kuai looked around, taking in the plush carpet, the colorful knick knacks and light blue walls.

He missed his home. He missed mama so much. He breathed deeply, willing himself not to cry again. He would be brave, he would be strong. He could do it.

"Listen, kid." Johnny knelt down, placing a warm hand on Kuai's shoulder. "I know it's hard for you to trust me, but I promise you're safe here, ok?"

Kuai swallowed. "Ok."

Johnny beamed at him and Kuai couldn't help but smile back. "Alright then, come on, let's get some breakfast."

#kuai liang #johnny cage #hanzo hasashi #mortal kombat #fanfic wip

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Until The Last Star Dies

Jason Todd x Tamaranean!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of Past Abuse

Author's Note: Old story I edited and am now posting again! This is technically the start to all those Outlaw x Reader ones. Guess I gotta work on those next! Enjoy! -Thorne

The all knew something was going to happen between the two Tamaranean sisters when the Titans and the Outlaws teamed up for a dual mission. Something usually did when the sisters got together, one of them asking for help for the last of their people, the other completely devoid of and inclination to help. Kory had brought up the conversation once during the mission when she was beside Dick and Jason, but the two had shaken their heads and reminded her not to do personal during a mission—else it risk the best outcome of said mission.

Kory hadn’t been impressed with the answer, but she’d relented at least until they were back in the Titan’s Tower, and the moment she brought it up with her sister, she knew she’d made a mistake.

***

Everyone watched as the two Tamaraneans stood at each other’s throats; Kory pointed a finger at her sister, her voice accusing. “They are our people, (Y/N)! You cannot just turn your back on them!”

(Y/N) scoffed incredulously. “Our people? You mean the people who turned their backs on us? Them?” A bitter laugh echoed throughout the room and most of them shivered at how cruel it sounded. “Damn them all.”

Kory reared back, emerald eyes wide with shock. “How can you say that, (Y/N)!”

“Easy! With my mouth!” She countered, then let out a sigh. “I have no desire or want to help them, Kory.” (Y/N) turned and began walking to the door. “They can die for all I care.”

When Kory spoke, her voice was low with disappointment. “Mother and Father would be ashamed of you, Kiyahnd’r.”

(Y/N) stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, her face and voice etched with disbelief. “What did you just say to me, Koriand’r?”

Kory stood up to her full height, imposing to most but her sister. “You heard me, Kiyahnd’r…they would be ashamed of your attitude and disassociation with our people.”

A crimson haze colored (Y/N)’s vision and she exploded in a fuming rage causing the others to step back in apprehension. “OUR PARENTS SOLD US INTO SLAVERY TO AVOID WAR! THEIR OWN CHILDREN! AND YOU EXPECT ME TO FEEL SYMPATHY FOR OUR PEOPLE?!”

(Y/N) felt an all-powerful energy surge through her, and an ominous white-hot aura surrounded her. “I HAVE NO SYMPATHY FOR OUR PEOPLE! I HAVE NO SYMPATHY FOR KOMAND’R! OR FOR OUR PARENTS!”

They watched as Kory matched her power, shoulders and back glowing green. “We have a duty to our throne as they did to Tamaran!”

“TO A THRONE THAT TURNED THEIR BACKS ON US BECAUSE THEY WERE TOO AFRAID TO FIGHT!” (Y/N) pointed at her. “HOW DARE YOU TRY AND JUSTIFY THEIR BETRAYAL! HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHAT WE SUFFERED AS A RESULT?! THE EXPERIMENTS?! THE ABUSE?!”

“Of course I have not! But we are heirs to the Tamaranean throne, Kiyahnd’r! We must—”

She was cut off as a bolt of ivory energy flew by her head; it slammed into the wall with a catastrophic explosion, putting a hole through the entire seventeen walls of that particular side of the building.

Kory turned to stare at the gaping hole in the wall before facing her, her eyes narrowed, voice twinging dangerously. “Did you just challenge me, Kiyahnd’r?”

(Y/N) bared her teeth as she took a menacing step forward. “Do not make the mistake of laying your hands upon me, sister. We both know full well who would win that fight,” she promised, then her eyes darted to the members around them, eyes either widened in worry, or narrowed in expectation for a fight.

She inhaled shakily and shut her eyes, and the energy around her began to fizzle away until all that was left was her. She opened her eyes, gazing sadly at Kory, then, she spoke, the words coming out pained. “I do not want to save them, Koriand’r. The day they gave us up was the day I cut my ties with them. You want to play the high and mighty Tamaranean princess? Be my guest.”

She spun on her heel and walked to the door, but as if remembering something, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder, affirming, “But do not assume that I will do the same.”

The group watched as she left; Kory sighed and hung her head.

“Kory?”

She looked up at Dick and Jason who each gave her a look of concern; she opted for a reassuring smile. “Do not worry for me, Dick. I am okay.”

Jason stared at the door (Y/N) walked out of, offhandedly mentioning, “I’m more worried for (Y/N).”

Kory nodded at Jason’s words. “As am I.”

Dick placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s been going on?”

She collapsed down in a chair and sighed again. “Though Tamaran was destroyed, our people survived and started over.”

“New-Tamaran right?” Jason asked, though it appeared he knew more than he let on.

She tipped her head side-to-side at Jason’s question, not entirely sure how to answer the question in terms of a plain yes or no. “In a way. Our people are now considered nomads.” She paused. “Komand’r reigns as Queen, but she is not fit for it. I have tried many times to convince Kiyahnd’r to help them. We have a duty to them to do so…but she will never forgive our people or Komand’r for what happened to us.”

“Can you blame her Kory?”

Her head tipped to look at Jason. “What?”

He shrugged. “Can you blame her?” Jason repeated and knelt in front of Kory. “You both were enslaved and experimented on. Memories and feelings like that aren’t exactly erased…or forgiven.”

“I know,” Kory said, reasoning, “But…I just wish she could work towards it.”

“It’s not always that easy.” He answered, then nodded at Dick and rose to his feet. “I’m going to go find (Y/N).” The two of them watched Jason leave the room in search of her.

***

After an hour of searching, Jason eventually found (Y/N) on the roof, staring up at the moon, her legs dangling over the edge.

He walked over and stood beside her. “Mind if I sit next to you, doll?”

(Y/N) didn’t shift her gaze from the glowing, natural satellite. “Do as you wish, Jason.”

There wasn’t heat in her words, and he wasn’t bothered by the indifference as he sat beside her, quietly admiring the moon.

It was quiet until she broke it, murmuring, “Kory wants us to forgive our people and move on…as if nothing happened to us.” She paused and shook her head as if the very idea were incomprehensible. “We are a naturally open species when it comes to emotion, but I do not understand how she can let go of everything so easily…how she can turn aside years of consistent abuse and smile so easily.”

Jason observed her for a moment, mulling the thought on his tongue. “What exactly happened to you, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N)’s face morphed into an anguished expression; she breathed deeply before sighing and speaking. “When my grandmother ruled Tamaran, she gave herself up to appease the Citadel. When my father took the throne, he did the same…but instead of giving himself…he gave Kory and I away.” She swallowed thickly. “We were…tortured…raped and humiliated…for years.”

She rose as she felt the rage flowing through her again. “Then we were given to the Psions…and we were experimented on. Again!” (Y/N) shook with indignation and her hand shot towards the sky, a bolt of energy leaving her palm. “She expects me to let it go! To forgive the very ones who put us in that position!”

Her hand released a succession of star bolts, and Jason watched as she fumed with unadulterated fury. “I will neverforgive them for it! They will never understand what we went through! They will never know what it is like to beg for death because you know it would be better than what was to come!”

Jason’s eyebrows drew in sympathy and (Y/N) clenched her hand into a fist, energy gathering within. His eyes widened, and he worried, “Uh, doll? That’s a big star bolt.”

(Y/N) studied the night sky. “I know.”

She uncurled her fist, and the bolt released, slinging into the sky, then it exploded, and Jason was reminded of fireworks as it shattered into millions of gleaming shards.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath and her shoulders squared as she spoke adamantly. “I will never forget the time I spent within the Citadel’s captivity…or the Psion’s. And I will never forgive Tamaran for putting me there.” She turned to Jason and looked down at him, her fists clenching. “For as long as I breathe, I will never help Tamaran. I would soon rather die.”

Jason rose from his seated position and gently took her hands in his own, uncurling her clenched fists; he smiled sadly at her. “You don’t have to, (Y/N).”

She wasn’t expecting him to say that, and her jaw went slack. “…What?”

His smile widened a fraction, and he squeezed her hands. “You don’t have to forgive them. Not until you want to.” He paused and raised a hand, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Hell, and if you never want to, you don’t.”

(Y/N) gazed at him. “You will not think me ill-disposed and bitter?”

Jason voice took a solemn tone. “If anyone has the right to be bitter, (Y/N), it’s you. You’ve seen and experienced horrors that would break most people…and if it didn’t, it would leave them a shell of what they once were. But you? You’ve come out reining victorious over it.” He paused. “I know it doesn’t do much to alleviate the memories, and this might make me sound like an insensitive ass, but your past doesn’t define you, (Y/N). You aren’t what they made you.”

She dropped her gaze and side-stepped from his grip, her arms wrapping around herself. “…But I am.”

Jason tipped his head and walked with her. “Why do you say that?”

She stopped and turned to him, her hand gently rising into the air; her power flowed up her arm and into the air smoothly. “I am what they made me, Jason. I am literally a walking nuclear reactor.”

(Y/N) stared at him. “Tamarans do not possess the talents that Koriand’r, Komand’r, and I possess. We received them unwillingly at the hands of the Psions. We are different…and it is because of them. We were tainted by their heinous experiments…and my life is scarred from it.”

Jason gazed at her before taking her hand again, his thumb caressing the back of it. “Perhaps…but your past was a lesson, not a life sentence.” He met her eyes. “Don’t let yourself be bound to it, (Y/N).”

She regarded him for a moment before raising an eyebrow. “You speak of moving on, but you still allow your past to haunt you.”

Jason nodded. “I do…but I’m trying to work on it.”

“How?”

“How what?”

“How do you work on it?” She looked at their hands. “You will never forgive him for what he did to you Jason…so how do you move past it to better things?”

“You’re right.” (Y/N)’s gaze moved back to his. “I won’t ever forgive that bastard for what he did to me. And for a very long time, I did not and could not forgive Bruce for letting me die. But I had to come to the realization that I was partly to blame for what happened to me, and that Bruce tried his best to save me…he just wasn’t fast enough. And that wasn’t his fault.”

He paused and brought a hand to her cheek, caressing it. “It’s different for you, (Y/N), because you were forced into those situations by measures beyond your control. But you have the power and ability to say that this isn’t how you are going to be defined.”

(Y/N) took in his words and whispered softly. “Why have you always been so kind to me, Jason? I am underserving of it.”

He smiled. “Because I’m in love you.”

Her eyes widened and she felt the breath leave her lungs. “…What?”

Jason snorted. “I’m in love you, (Y/N).”

“You—I…What?”

Jason chuckled as she floundered. “Why are you so shocked? The Batfamily tends to lean towards Tamaranean women. I mean look at Dickhead and your sister.”

(Y/N) was still in stunned disbelief. “I—no…you—no.”

Jason’s hand let go of hers and wrapped around her waist. “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“You cannot love me.”

He flashed a grin. “I can love you…and I do love you, Kiyahnd’r.”

(Y/N) gazed at him. “…Why?”

“Because you are beautiful and strong and the literal walking definition of goddess.” Blushing slightly, he added, “You’re also badass…so that…certainly factors into it.”

(Y/N) lowered her head and laughed, then looked at him. “You are something else, Jason Todd.”

He cocked a brow. “I hope you mean that in a good way, doll.”

(Y/N) snorted and wrapped her arm around his waist before rising into the sky; Jason’s grip tightened, and she smirked. “Do not be afraid, Jason…I will not drop you.”

Jason grunted. “I wasn’t afraid of you dropping me, (Y/N).”

“So…the steel grip around my waist is just…because?”

“Yep.”

“As you say.”

The two of them rose higher until the sight of the building and ground below them was a shrunken image.

They stared up at the stars. “Beautiful…are they not?” she asked.

Jason nodded in wide-eyed astonishment. “Absolutely.”

(Y/N) glanced at him. “Your eyes reflect the stars so clearly.” Jason’s eyes moved to hers and they gazed at each other; she lowered her head and sighed. “I do not know if I am the best person to love, Jason…I am…damaged.”

A hand curled under her chin and coaxed her up; she met his eyes again and he smiled. “Yeah, you are.” He paused. “But I don’t know a single person who isn’t. You aren’t alone, (Y/N).” Jason leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. “You have me. Until every last star in this universe dies. You have me.”

An easy smile grew on her face, and she leaned in, lips stopping just before his. Her eyes narrowed in adoration and she whispered, “Thank you.”

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