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cocoapeaches · 2 years

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merry-men

i. bill withers and earthquakes

When her head hit the end of the bunk bed roughly, it meant either of two things. A) a monster had decided to say hi in the middle of the night, trying against all odds to break through the barrier around camp or B) one of her siblings was seconds away from clashing two bronze plates near her ear as a 'wake-up' call.

Emmie didn't know which was better.

A soft pillow was smothered against her face, and she was smacked with it twice. "Gods, get up, you snoring pig!"

Emi blinked to clear her hazy vision. A multitude of groans rang out in the dark and the faint buzzing, like that of radio static, grew louder until she could distinctly recognize Lovely Day covered by her father playing in her mind.

"Bill Withers?" Victoria shrieked. "That man has no taste! Zero, zip, nada!"

You are a daughter of Apollo, they said. It'd be fun, they said.

See, that was the catch about having Mr. Sunshine as a dad, they did not have a choice to wake up with the Sun. Either that or bleeding from your ears. Most preferred the former.

Will had beaten Yan to the bathroom and peeked his head out with a toothbrush stuck in his mouth, mumbling, "Be grateful it wasn't a sonnet. I don't think I'll ever recover from the last one."

Ah, the one with the naked grandmas having bird poop for hair.

It was still dark when Emmie stepped outside, knowing full well that she would not get a chance to freshen up before all twelve of her siblings had. Pulling the zipper of her jumper down, she took a deep breath.

For all the chaos the campers created in broad daylight which lasted till a couple of hours into midnight, the quiet camp was eerie in a sense. No Hermes kids looking for trouble, no Aphrodite children tweaking the campers' appearances for the summer. Not even the Ares kids had energy to pick fights this early.

A chime from her wristwatch pulled her out of her trance. May Fifteenth aka beginning of stress month for Chiron and Mr. D. It marked the start of week when the handful of demigods who went home after summer's end started arriving. Year rounders like Emmie looked forward to the day, too, eagerly awaiting their friends, siblings and all sorts of gossips they carried with them. It was their only link to the outside world, especially for the less experienced fighters and the young ones—she was also lumped in that category—who were not allowed past the border.

The last time she had stepped outside was when Aunt Calliope had taken her to meet her newborn brother—her half-sibling. As if there weren't enough of those already.

Someone whistled behind her. "Your turn", Austin called out.

Kayla was yelling at a smirking Felicity, threatening the older girl with a strangely lavender shampoo bottle, when Emmie went back inside. "You did it! And don't you dare deny it, Felicity Jake! I see right through you. You purposefully went before me and swapped the shampoo with the dye!" Oh, yeah, Kayla's hair was blue instead of the normal ginger with green highlights.

Felicity sat on her bed, arms behind her to support her weight. "Oh, come on. Blue suits you. Alright, watch this. Everybody who agrees raise their hand up!" More than ten hands shot up. Kayla grumbled but didn't argue."

"Hey, who's in-charge of which cabin again?" Emmie asked. She took her bathrobe and the coconut-scented soap from the toiletry cabinet, stepping into the foggy shower.

Lee scrambled for his list that they referred to as their version of 'chore distribution'. "Let's see. . .Vic with the Aphrodite bunch, Jerry with Demeter, Ellis gets Hephaestus, Emmie you'll handle Hermes and Gracie gets Athena."

The remaining paled while the already chose ones cheered. "And I'm proud to introduce today's victims—Michael and Tessa. Apologies in advance, my dear siblings. You tackle the Ares kids."

Safe to say, the two had some choice words to hurl at their Head Counselor.

It was sort of an unspoken rule for the occupants of Cabin 7 to wake up the rest of the campers. Albeit without a choice, they woke with the Sun and some crazy sibling of Emmie's from possibly decades ago had decided to sentence them all to being human alarm clocks. Too tired to argue, having spent majority of the night flipping through a new find from the library—an adventure following a poorly mixed crew of six who attempted and succeeded in breaking into some super-jail for witches—Emmie walked up to the Hermes cabin without putting up much of a fight.

From there on, it was a routine job. She flipped over the 'Not you again!' doormat and dragged out the silver master-key. The lights were off when she managed to get in. For being children of the literal god of thieves, they weren't very good at countermeasures. Tiptoeing past the lengthy rows of snoring sleeping-bags, she took the vinyl she had carried and placed it on the player.

Gangnam Style blasted out.

"Who the fuck?!"

From her perch on the wooden dresser pushed against the far corner of the cabin, Emmie smirked. "Good morning to you too, cousins."

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"Morning, Emmie", Luke mussed up her hair as he exited the Hermes cabin with his siblings and too many unclaimed or children of minor gods and goddesses in tow. "Don't be late for practice later."

"Aye, captain." She smiled up at him, imitating a nymph. Her eyes were fixed on the two astonishingly similar individuals for not being twins. They caught her eye and gestured toward the secluded area behind the Zeus cabin. "Did you get it?" she asked once they were out of the others' earshot.

The Stolls smirked in unison and Travis fished out an obnoxious pink snow-globe from his pocket. "Top quality product. One smell and you'll be bleaching your nose for the rest of the week."

She shrugged, passing them a ten-dollar bill. When she went to pat her pocket, it was empty. Narrowing her gaze, she tried to snatch back her wallet only for Travis to hold it up higher. Curse him and his ridiculous height. If only she had a heckin' ladder. "Give it back boys."

"For another ten, sure", Connor replied, scouring through the worn-out leather item and dropped it in her hand. Emmie huffed, pocketing it and followed them to the dining pavilion.

Breakfast was always something everybody looked forward to. With the plates spawning every kind of food someone craved, the aroma mingled to form a mouth-watering scent.

Emmie slipped in to sit beside Kayla who was seated at the end of the table, opposite to Lee. The now bluenette quirked a brow but did not question her tardiness.

Their older brother, however, noticed. "And where have you been, Parker?"

Emmie hung her head and shoved a piece of bacon in her mouth after dumping her offering into the hearth alongside a quick prayer. "Tending to some business."

"What business?" Instead of letting the matter drop, he prodded further. "I don't suppose it's got something to do with the huge ball in your pocket?"

Victoria gasped, clamping her palms over Will's ears with mock exasperation. "Mind your tongue, Fletcher. There are kids present!"

Will snorted. "I'm seven, not stupid."

"I did not mean it like that!" Emmie cackled with the rest of her siblings while Victoria continued riling Lee up.

Finally, Michael sighed and tapped the tabletop thrice. "Alright, gutter rats. Some of us are trying to eat h—" He smiled, pursing his lips. Victoria giggled and all hell broke loose. Soon, everyone was guffawing, chuckling or laughing like a maniac. "Not a word."

Camp Half-Blood was like summer camp that lasted for a whole year. Naturally, teenagers with ADHD needed a lot more than food and familiar faces to keep them occupied. That's where the activities came into play. From climbing-walls with dual modes to simple old school arts and crafts, every day was filled to the brim with recreational activities.

The last time she tagged along to deliver strawberries to the local market, Emmie had experienced a massive culture shock. Most kids her age were glued to a screen for the better part of their day while she barely knew how to work one. Chiron claimed they were like magnets to monsters and demigods were better off without them.

First came 'Sword and Sheild' with Clarisse La Rue. Let's face it, Emmie sucked at it, and the big and daunting daughter of Aeres made sure to drill it into her head with "You cannot leave your left side vulnerable like that! ", "The shield is there for a reason, Parker, use it!" and "What part of 'dodge and hit' do you not understand?!"

Emmie worked best with a bow, even better if it was a crossbow. As such, archery with Chiron went nice and smooth. No hollering mentors and no threat of being hanged upside-down by her ankles looming over her.

By the time she had made it past horseback riding with the Demeter cabin, her arms felt ready to fall off.

Luke greeted them with a large bone-like object that looked like it could very well belong to a megalodon as the sluggish swarm filed into the arena once more for Monster Assault Technique class. "Can anybody guess what today's topic is?"

Annabeth's arm was up in the air before Emmie could get herself seated in the very back of the class with Valentina. "That's an Ethiopian Drakon's tooth. They are known for their deadly claws and can be traced rather easily by their feeding habits."

Luke smiled, setting the tooth down on the low table with a missing led that he had snagged from the store. "Very good. Annabeth's right." The blonde daughter of Athena gave a pleased hum and Valentina chuckled. Apparently, her 'love senses' were acting up again.

"Today we'll be covering Ethiopian dragons. Now, our good ol' Director wants a five-page essay on this topic so I will humbly suggest that those who think being here is a waste of time, please pay attention. Clovis, buddy, your pillow should've stayed in your bed. Can someone sprinkle some water on his face? Yeah, thanks, Katie."

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Emmie had almost made it up to the Big House without drawing unwanted attention to herself. If only the Stolls has mentioned that the bomb needed a trigger and that being a drop of wine. And the only place one would keep alchohol - besides the infirmiry - amidst a bunch of impulsive teens was inside a cabinet in the baby blue HQ.

"Emmie? I thought lights out was an hour ago. What are you doing up?"

She jumped, clutching the front of her t-shirt. "And I hoped you would be asleep, Mister Chiron. But we don't always get what we want, do we?"

"Luke gave me a heads-up about the Stolls and Valentina dropped by earlier to reveal your scheme. Now, go back to bed."

Emmie sighed, clenching her fists. "Those two will get it in the morning."

Chiron smiled knowingly. "So will you. Expect extra tasks tomorrow. Off you go."

"Dang it!"

Before she made to leave, Emmie caught sight of the resident God of wine and lunacy who was sound asleep on the recliner, a goblet tipped over his stomach. "Mr. Chiron, can I head to the kitchens? I can do with a late-night snack."

He seemed to contemplate it. Big mistake, Mr. Chiron. "Yes but bed immediately after. I can barely deal with one sleep-deprived powerhouse, two is pushing it."

"Okay. Good night, Mr. Chiron."

Just as her hand grasped the doorknob, thunder rumbled in the distance, sending tremors through the ground.

Usually, the weather in camp was always pleasant. Therefore, when it came to sudden thunderstorms, it could only mean one thing.

Zeus was throwing another temper tantrum.

But judging by the look on Chiron's face, it was a lot deeper than that. She followed the Director out into the night.

"Did something hit the barrier?" Emmie asked as they hiked down the hill and towards the entrance. "What in Holy Hera is that!"

Down on the ground, a boy about her age was lying unconscious, one arm wrapped around Grover the satyr and the other clutching a huge bull's horn close to his chest. Chiron ran to them and pressed his fingers under the boy's nose. "Alive."

Emmie felt the sinking feeling dissipate before noticing the trail of blood that went down the boy's face. "We need to get them to the infirmary!" Chiron seemed to agree as he slung the two on his back effortlessly and away he went.

"Well, scoot." Chiron laid the raven-haired boy one of the beds while she took her place on a stool beside the bedframe. Drawing a long breath, she started a slow hymn to Apollo, hovering her hand over the boy's chest. Looking closely, it was no doubt he was a demigod - tanned skin with a fluff of jet black hair and sharp features. He was fairly good looking, better than half the camp's boys even.

But who's kid? Hopefully not Dad's, that would just be weird.

Soon, the wounds on the boy's face and arms began to glow faintly and disintegrated into mended skin.

Emmie looked up at the centaur who was totally lost in thought. "You're hiding something", she said. It came out stingier than she intended but Chiron's attention was gathered all the same. "Who is he?"

Chiron frowned but did not answer directly. "Emersyn, I want you to keep tonight's ordeal to yourself. If anybody asks, let me handle the talking." He paused to glance at the knocked-out ravenette. "He can turn out to be a crucial part in deciding where demigods stand today."

Well, geez. That was very informative.

Emmie had finished her healing and turned her stool to face Chiron. She had just registered the newbie demigod's spoil of war and couldn't help imagining how he had ripped it off. "That's Minotaur's horn. Did this kid really beat him?"

And got tossed around like fried rice in a wok, she guessed by his wounds.

"Likely. Can I take your word for it? That you will keep this between the two of us?"

That you will co-operate, went unsaid.

Emmie studied Chiron's features intently, noticing every frown line on his face. The man was as older as the camp itself and no doubt he had much to worry about. She decided against messing with him anymore.

Emmie disliked being stuck on a puzzle as much as she hated quick and breezy games. Perceus Jackson was the former in the category. After hushed agreements and exhausted goodbyes, Emmie stayed back in the infirmary, feeding nectar and ambrosia cubes to Grover before returning to the cabin. It would be morning in a little while anyway.

As she lay wide awake, twisting and turning in his sleeping bag and listening to the cicadas chirping outside, Emmie felt intrigued if anything.

Maybe this summer would not be as uneventful as the last. Perhaps she would annoy Clarisse into a re-match on the lava wall tomorrow.

Maybe, maybe. . .there were endless possibilities.

#coco writes <3 #percy x daughter of apollo #percy x oc #percy x reader #percy jackson x oc #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #daughter of apollo #percy x daughter of apollo reader #percy x daughter of apollo oc

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ressjeon · 3 years

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in this paradise (moodboard teaser)

pairing: survivor!jungkook x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to escape what's been planned for him, Jungkook hopped on a ship only to face a tragedy that he didn't expect and enter you who somehow couldn't believe to find company in this isolated land. Was this fate or was this just a temporary chance of bliss as a challenge for you both?

rating: 18+

genre: tropical island!au, survivor!au, strangers to lovers, angst, smut, romance & fluff

warnings: some accidents mentioned, lots of teasing, swearing, sexual tension, explicit sexual content, multiple sex scenes (beach, treehouse?, etc.), pet names, skinny dipping, finger sucking, thigh riding, unprotected sex (no condoms in da island peeps), handjob, oral (m. receiving), nipple play, fingering, riding, jk takes it from the back too. (warnings could change)

a/n: this wasn't the first JK fic I planned to post but he was in Summery outfit on Sowoozoo so I had to bump it up among other WIPS 😅. 2 years ago, I got intrigued when I saw the theme song mv of this TV series on my YT dash, the mc has the same name as me and it was Jungkook who first came into when some scenes (4 in exact, including this one) flashed in my mind. The plot is completely different though as I only borrowed some elements of it ♡.

ps. this moodboard was damn hard to make T.T

Check it out here!

― masterlist — navigation ― wips

A sudden ruckus behind your shoulder alerts you immediately, and you turn to see a little movement in the tall grass among the trees.

At last, food.

You’ve been hungry for hours since you wake up so it would be amazing to find something to eat since it's lunch already. Getting into position, you raise one arm up with a spear above your head, the other hand holding up front just in case it attacks you.

Readying yourself as you approach the moving grass, you part them with the other hand but to your surprise, you find a half-naked man in dirty white jeans with dark hair, his doe-eyes staring at you in shock.

"woah, woah, woah" an instant fear crosses his eyes, both of his hands suddenly waving in front in surrender causing him to wince a little, allowing you to spot the wound below his right shoulder so you lower down your arm.

He’s good-looking, add the harsh rays of sunlight looming over him from above to that.

You recover instantly, locking your eyes to his with a death glare as you move your spear in front of you.

“who are you?” you demand, suspicious eyes raking his form as you come nearer to him. He could still be a threat for all you know, best to take precautions.

“jungkook” he pants, reaching out with open palms to shake your hands. He hopes that you'll deem him as harmless by doing so and looks at you pleadingly when you don’t answer him.

“y/n” you respond gently a bit after dropping your spear on the side, feeling a spark when your hand touches his, of how gentle he’s shaking your hand despite the worry in his eyes.

He sighs in relief but pain crosses his handsome face, and he’s wincing even more this time. You manage to catch him before his body reaches the ground.

“my bad” he chuckles while trying to stand up, somehow disregarding that he almost collapsed. You really wonder how he can joke about his situation.

“you’re wounded you know” you scoff, inspecting his wound straightaway.

“yeah but at least you’re here now” he grins and winks at you as he positions himself on your lap, making your eyes roll.

“shut up or i won’t help you” you chide, pulling out the remnants of splinters from his wound with warning and he pouts.

“okay, okay, i’ll behave” he whines as he stays still lying down on his stomach and you’re trying to ignore how you can feel his defined abs on your legs.

“why are you wandering here in the forest while your wound is still fresh?” you ask and Jungkook smiles when he hears the concern in your voice. Ngl, he was shit scared of you earlier, if it weren’t for his wound that’s slowing him down and you’re pretty face he would’ve bolted instantly.

“I was looking for medicinal herbs” he answers, shaking his injured shoulder a little and you smile at this cute antic, okay he’s adorable.

“stop moving” you tsks.

“and what exactly is a beautiful girl like you doing in this forest too?” he questions before you can even answer him right away.

“i was looking for food,” you pause, stating the obvious.

“so that’s why you have a hunting spear with you. where did you even find materials to make it?" he prods, a lot of curiosity in his voice and you smile again, he can’t see you from this angle anyways so it’s good.

“on the shore, a lot of things wash up there” you hum, finishing up the make bandage on his shoulder using the thin jacket that was wrapped on your waist earlier.

You feel him nod and huff a breath like he wants to ask more.

“right, right. how about we search the beach later? maybe we can find more stuff that we can use” he asks as he slowly gets up from your lap, displaying an excited smile and you nod.

“does it hurt?” you ask impassively and he shakes his head.

You help him in standing up, carefully assisting on his elbow for him to not put weight on it and he laughs again. He’s been giddy all this time and you still have no idea why.

"i'm okay" he snorts and you elbow him.

"what's funny?"

You frown, brows scrunching as you eye him with annoyance. As much as you're still wary of him, you’re starting to get confused on how he can make you react this fast in everything that he does.

"you seem so caring now compared to earlier" he teases.

"you needed help, i'm not as heartless as you think" you glare at him and retrieve your spear from the ground.

“your words are actually the opposite of your actions” he continues.

“well, aren’t you an excellent observer” you snicker as you look around to check if you missed anything.

Jungkook on the other hand is just observing how you effortlessly gather your stuff with you. How for some reason, you still look gorgeous with your white mini sundress, a contrast at how tough you look with your tools on you.

"what?" you bark, raising one brow at him and he stops himself from laughing this time. He just shrugs with a playful smile and walks away, urging you to follow him as you both venture into the woods.

“jungkook” you call him, walking beside him now.

“yes?” he questions playfully, not sparing you any glance while looking up at the coconut trees around you.

“you better be taking this seriously after you heal” you huff.

“i already am, i swear! you have no faith in me, im offended” he complains with that fake hurt in his voice and you scowl at him before walking faster, now leading the path instead. He laughs louder this time, following you into some stream or river.

All jokes aside, Jungkook is truly relieved at finding another survivor washing up on the same island as he is. At least he won’t be alone while waiting for rescue anymore, plus you’re hot as hell so this won’t be bad after all.

taglist: @jungkooksbroski

permanent taglist: @bluesharksandfish @taebkyun @sheprocrastinatesalot @iamscharene

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tinyjeanmarco · 3 years

Text

armin relationship hc’s!

hello! this time it’s armin’s turn! (´ω｀★) look at this tiny boy ;; i love him sm. my favorite eldian coconut <3 as always, i hope you enjoy this! i’m trying to get the hang of headcanons and stuff for now, but i will eventually post scenarios/drabbles/fics! (i haven’t written in like a year :c) also, this is a long one, i just had so much fun writing it!

armin x gn!reader

warnings: none

i think armin would have a crush on you for a long time, but be too shy to say anything at first. this is definitely in regards to early armin. he totally crushed on you throughout training, talking to you here and there and learning your personality.

you also had a crush on him all throughout training, but didn’t want to make things awkward. then, all the stuff with eren being a titan surfaced and you saw how he took the challenges head on, making decisions for the good of humanity.

this made you swoon, his big brain is so attractive, but you also got self conscious. you were worried now that if you said anything to him about how you like him, it wouldn’t go anywhere because of his big responsibilities.

you looked up to him so much, seeing him grow, seeing him become more confident, seeing him use his smarts for the better of humanity. it was so inspiring.

yet, you still didn’t confess to him, and it was after the mission to reclaim wall maria that armin confessed to you first.

he had grown more confident and sure of himself over time and seeing the damage of that fight and the losses you all suffered? he figured it was now or never to say something.

it was after he woke up atop the wall, and had the talk with hange and the rest of the survivors. all of you were resting before making your trek to eren’s basement.

in this downtime, armin went to sit by you on the ledge of the wall, overlooking all the destruction.

he told you that he liked you, and has for a while. he didn’t want to wait any longer to tell you because he’s unsure of what the future holds and wants to live in the present.

you’re floored by his confession and it takes all of your will power to not lunge on him right there and hug the shit out of him (you don’t want to accidentally knock him off the wall or hurt him since he’s still recovering).

you quickly try to come up with a response, not wanting him to take your silence the wrong way.

you’re so giddy, excited that he feels the same way about you, that you let out a small squeak when you go to speak.

he giggles, and once you’ve confessed that you too have liked him for about the same length of time, he grabs your hand, entwining your fingers.

you know the feeling you get when you hold someone’s hand for the first time and it just feels so right? like you’re two puzzle pieces meant to fit together? it feels almost as if the whole world has moved for you to be together, through contact as small has having someone’s hand in yours.

that’s what you feel when he grabs your hand. your breath is swept away from your lungs, and you just bask in the light of the sun together.

you two talk more once you arrive back home, making it official.

you share some smooches, too.

armin has the softest lips, he always makes sure to keep them moisturized because he just likes the feeling of it. having cracked, flaky lips is so uncomfortable, so i feel him on this one.

one of your guys’ favorite date ideas is to sit together in the soft glow of candles, taking turns reading together. you two have always shared the love for literature, so this is a must.

you’ll sit huddled up against the wall in the library, limbs entwined as you share a single book, alternating chapter by chapter who will read.

when you guys don’t feel like going to the library to read, you two will be on one of your beds, cuddling and sharing the book like before. sometimes you read pretty late and he softly asks you to stay with him for the night.

you absolutely have no resolve in you to say no to his adorable puppy eyes, so you borrow some of his clothes, and bunker down for the night.

you cuddle like your lives depend on it, sharing gentle, loving kissess.

armin just really strikes me as someone who would love spending time with you. he really relies on those he loves in life, feeling lost without having someone with him. not necessarily just romantically. if you’re not around, he can be found with any of his friends.

can we talk about going to see the ocean with armin as your bf? he’s so freaking excited to see it in the first place. he’s even more hyped to see it with eren and mikasa like he always told them, but with you? all his dreams come true. he’s been nearly in love with you for years and he’s wanted to see the ocean for his whole ass life.

this is a huge freaking deal for him.

this tiny boy runs down to the ocean, dragging you along by your hand. everyone’s all like,

“armin, wait! you don’t know if it’s dangerous!”

armin totally doesn’t care, he has been waiting his entire life for this moment, like hell if he will slow down.

you two splash each other and goof around for a bit. armin then turns to see you, the salty air blowing the hair on both of your heads, and he sees you holding up a pearly object (a seashell), gawking at it in wonder.

tears come to his eyes as he takes you in, so absolutely head over heels in love with you. he takes you by the hand, pulling you into him. you let out a surprised yelp before he kisses you with all he’s got. it truly is the best moment of his life, and he forgets, even for just a second, how bad everything is, because now? you’re his everything.

#armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #armin arlert headcanons #armin headcanons #aot headcanons

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tsukiihime · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak (Bakugou x Reader), (Shinsou x Reader) Part 2

The second part to the fic I wrote, this will probably be my last post for another week since I have school to catch up on. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst, a bit more fluff on Shinsou’s end, drinking

Taglist: @sugarandsoft

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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It’s three in the morning, and Bakugou can’t sleep.

He’s beyond pissed at himself for staying up this late, but he can’t help it - he’s been in bed since nine and he can’t get you out of his mind. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you stormed out of the apartment. He regrets not chasing after you, he loathes himself for being such a dick and he hates himself for even letting his stupid agency dictate his personal life. He wants to tell you so bad that you’re wrong, that beating Deku doesn’t mean a damn thing to him if it means he has to lose you. He wants to hear your voice so bad it hurts. He knows you’ll be going to Shinsou - you always do when you have a bad fight. He knows you’ll be safe there, but he feels like such a fool. He let you walk out in the rain on your own. What a hero he turned out to be.

Bakugou spends the night alternating between flipping through the endless channels on the living room TV and staring at the ceiling. Every time he closes his eyes he sees your face - anger boiling your blood, disbelief painting your features as he fights with you, tears staining your cheeks. He feels sick to his stomach imagining you walking in the cold as you leave the apartment, sniffling as you make your way out in the rain. He wants to call you to explain himself.

But he doesn’t. His pride won’t let him.

It’s his pride that makes him trudge out to bars with Denki, Mina, and Sero the next day after you leave - he needs alcohol in his system to numb himself from the thought of you. Anyone will do if it warms his bed and makes your face disappear for even a second. God, he never thought he would be so hung up on you. He downs beer after beer, dances with woman after woman. Names and faces blur together as a cacophony of voices plays in his head.

He ends up taking someone home that night - he couldn’t remember her even if he tried. He takes her back to the apartment you shared and pushes her onto the bed you shared. He kisses her collarbone and up her neck, but he’s aiming for your favorite spots instead of hers. The image of you overlaps with her, and he sees your figure beneath him instead of some stranger. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s his broken heart playing tricks on him.

He kisses her, imagining it’s your scent he’s breathing in rather than the vanilla and booze she smells of. He pictures your arms wrapping around his neck, your lips on his. She says his name, like honey on her lips, whispers it into his ear. And if he tries hard enough, he can twist her voice in his head to sound like you.

“Katsuki, I love you.” He hears it over and over, sees your smile and hears your laugh. “Katsuki, I love you.”

He makes her leave after that. She’s upset but he is too - an argument ensures and she storms out, leaving behind her underwear in her hurry to leave.

He doesn’t notice. He’s too busy thinking of you.

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It’s been three weeks since your breakup with Bakugou.

The news stations and gossip websites have been flooded with reports of Camie and Katsuki - neither have said anything about their relationship and the speculation of if they are or aren’t a couple is driving everyone wild. Thankfully, the people who were leaving awful comments have long since left you alone, prompting you to turn your Instagram to private and changing your username so they can’t find you easily.

You’ve been avoiding social media like the plague, ignoring all television interviews that involve either Bakugou or Camie - you’ve learned your lesson from the night of the Hero Rankings. But you’re only human after all, and the one time your curiosity got the better of you, you dove into the comments on a tabloid’s website to see what the public was saying.

It doesn’t escape your notice that the comments are much kinder - it ranges from well wishes to remarks about how they wish they could replace Bakugou or Camie in the relationship. No one mentions you, which you are grateful for. You know the media thrives off of drama and rumors, so you’re content to have been forgotten about in this narrative.

Shinsou’s been treating you like normal - another thing you’re grateful for. He is kind without being overbearing, and he gives you distance while also being there for you when you need it. You’ve migrated from sleeping on the couch to crashing in his bed, and more often than not you fall asleep to the smell of his body wash as you lay on his chest.

You wonder what Bakugou would say if he saw you. He knew how close you and Shinsou were and still are, but anyone could think that you and the purple haired man were lovers. Here you are, getting upset at your ex-boyfriend for having a woman over two days after the breakup, when you are falling asleep in the arms of another man - even if he is your best friend. You wonder if that makes you a hypocrite. Your emotions are in chaos, all jumbled and confused. You miss physical intimacy and a part of you wonders if you’re just using Shinsou as a replacement. “It’s better to sift through these feelings when I’m calmer”, you think to yourself, “I’ll come back to it when I’m in a better place.”

Otherwise, you’ve been steadily making your way back to a normal life - work, school, and your personal life all seem to be peaceful and you’re content in a way you hadn’t been for a long time with Bakugou. Of course, the wounds of the breakup are still healing, but you’re doing a lot better from three weeks ago, when you couldn’t even bring yourself to get out of bed. Shinsou has been making sure that you eat properly and that you take care of yourself. Now that you’re out of that post breakup funk, he notices that you’re cheerful and upbeat - a good sign that you’re slowly recovering from your heartbreak.

Today, you’re home alone while Shinsou patrols the city - he’s promised to pick up dinner on his way home so you don’t have to cook. He’s looking forward to tonight - you’ve finished all of your school work for the weekend and you’re off from work until Monday. He’s eager to come home to you, he’s turned down his coworkers invitations to drink so he can spend the weekend with you. He’s picked up food from your favorite Mexican restaurant, and he’s stopped at the grocery store to get your favorite flavor of ice cream - the one that’s almost always sold out.

He arrives home to see you lazing about the house - you’re laying on your back on the couch, holding your pastel Animal Crossing Edition Switch with a bag of chips resting on the table next to you. Your eyebrows are furrowed together as you focus on beating the shit out of a boss in Cuphead - a game you and Shinsou spent hours playing when it came out trying to pass the incredibly difficult levels. You’re wearing Shinsou’s favorite hoodie again - you might as well claim it as your own already you wear it so much - and your fuzzy cat print socks match with a fluffy cat ear headband that keeps your hair out of your face. Your face is recently washed and slightly pink, and he can smell your favorite coconut body wash from where he’s standing. He waits until you lose the stage (let's face it - there’s no way you’re beating that damn clown boss without his help) and he makes his way over to you, leaning over to look down at you as you exhale in annoyance at your loss.

“Hey there, I got dinner. Also nabbed some dessert for you - ready to watch nothing but ghost stories for the rest of the night?” You stretch out your arms and legs, groaning as you move to stand from the couch.

“Only if you promise to sleep next to me until I see sunlight again.” You hate ghost stories - you can handle scary movies about murderers and clowns but you don’t mess with ghosts. The only reason you’re watching tonight is because you know it’s Shinsou’s favorite and he always watches your nature documentaries even though you know deep down he probably doesn’t enjoy them as much as you do. You saunter over to the kitchen, and prop yourself on the counter facing Shinsou as you pull a taco to your mouth. “Ugh, even though the Exorcist was made like 50 years ago it still gives me the creeps. I can’t believe,” you take a moment to drink some water, “that you can watch her crawl backwards down the stairs and not piss your pants.” Shinsou lowly chuckles, giving a teasing smile as he unwraps his burrito.

“It’s ‘cause I’m not a chicken.” You roll your eyes and snort.

“Whatever Mindjack. Not everyone can be as fearless as you.” He smirks as you swing your legs, turning your full attention to the taco you have in front of you. “Hurry up and finish so we can do a facemask before our movie marathon. You didn’t forget about that did you?”

“‘Course not. You wouldn’t let me forget even if I tried, since you’re such a nagger.” You pout, hopping off the counter to wash your hands. Shinsou spends a bit too much time admiring how small you look wearing his hoodie - enveloped in something that belongs to him makes him swell with pride even if it’s wrong of him to think so. He wonders when he started to feel this way towards you, when his love changed from a close friend to an admirer. When he remembers his life, you are always there with him. By his side like a part of his body, always around when important events pass by, always by his side when the going gets tough. It’s not as if he’s always been pining for you - he’s brought other girlfriends around before even if the romance fizzles out before long - but recently he’s noticed you in a different light. Your bedhead and your sleeping face are just as cute to him as when you have your hair done and makeup on. Bringing other men over was never a problem, you’re his best friend and your happiness was always the first priority. But now, he finds himself annoyed at the mere mention of possible partners. You have no shortage of those - you’ve always been able to draw people to you as nerdy as you are - and the green vines of jealousy wrap around his heart every time someone gives you a gift on Valentine’s Day or someone asks you out for a coffee. You usually turn them down since you have so much to focus on, work and school makes you a busy woman after all. But he can’t help but be irritated at the stares you get in public sometimes - as beautiful as you are, you would think that you’d notice the way others look at you. He’s always loved you, but now he feels this once platonic love changing into pure romance, he aches for you like he’s never had before - longing for your touches, your hugs, your feather light kisses on his forehead when he’s having a tough day. The guilt he feels every time he holds you close like he did when you were kids, when you lay your head on his chest and he plays with your hair. To you, it’s still the action of a best friend, but to him it’s something he’d do for a lover. And yet, you’re oblivious, as dense as a rock but he loves that part too. How infuriatingly adorable you are sometimes.

“‘Toooooshi~”, You wave your hand in his face as he comes back to reality. You raise an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” Your arms cross as you stare at him, suspicious that he’s hiding something from you.

“You ready? I got everything set up.” He nods, and you turn to walk towards his bedroom.

Shinsou’s room is quite neat, a black bed in the corner next to ceiling to floor windows that gives a pretty good view of the city. He scored a good location in spite of his modest salary - he’s in it for the heroism and the good deeds, not the money. He may not make as much as Bakugou, Todoroki, or Deku, but he does alright. His capture weapon and artificial vocal cords mask rest atop his bookshelf, populated with picture books of you and him in your younger days, as well as a Polaroid camera you left with him when he went off to U.A and you stayed in Saitama. Next to the parts of his Hero costume is a picture of you and him on a trip to the beach - one he treasures above all else. In it, he holds you bridal style as you both smile from ear to ear at the camera. You’re practically glowing, wearing a bright yellow bikini set with a see through beach coverup wrapped around your hips, sunglasses resting atop your head. Shinsou recalls how you nagged him to actually swim with you, and you pretty much forced him to wear those green swim shorts - this picture was before he decided to run with you in his arms to the water.

He sees your presence everywhere he looks in his room. After he reassured you that you weren’t a burden, you’ve basically turned his home into your home as well. The bottom half of his bookshelf is claimed as yours - it’s filled with your favorite stories, and your collection of Switch games is stacked next to the shelf neatly. Your laptop rests on his bed (you were no doubt doing homework before you got distracted and started playing Cuphead before he got home) with your Geology textbook open and notebooks filled with notes and highlighted phrases. Your clothes have been hung up in his closet, with your makeup and perfumes taking over three-fourths of his bathroom counter. If anyone else came to visit, they’d think you two were an item.

But alas, you two are not.

You push your schoolwork and computer aside to make room for you and Hitoshi, making your way towards the bathroom to grab a basket of skin care products and face masks. Shinsou knows how much you care about your skin - and by extension his skin - and he watches as you walk from here to there gathering what you need. You turn to him with a huge grin on your face as you hold up a matching cat headband in the color black, something you picked up from the store before you came home last week. He sighs, but turns around anyways to allow you to pull his lavender hair back into a loose ponytail and place the cat headband on his head before turning back to face you.

He looks so silly wearing it, but for you, he’ll do anything. You grab your phone and open the front camera, sticking your tongue out while grabbing Shinsou’s face, squishing his cheeks as he makes an annoyed face at the camera. After taking the photo, you upload it to your now private Instagram and send the picture to Shinsou who does the same. He’s always been a private man, so you don’t worry about the public getting a hold of the photos and trying to make a story out of your life like with Bakugou.

Tossing your phone aside, you motion for Hitoshi to turn towards you, propping yourself up on your knees in front of him as he sits cross legged. You giggle as he looks back at you, reaching to grab a jar of your favorite moisturizer and opening it. The smell is familiar to him - you always smell like it at night when you watch TV while sitting next to him in the living room. You start to apply the product to his face, careful to keep it out of his eyes and mouth. “You need to take better care of your skin ‘Toshi.”

“I know. I’ve been putting sunscreen on like you’ve asked.” He’s not lying, it’s become a part of his routine ever since you suggested it.

“Good. You better be taking the time to eat properly at work too. I know you’re sleeping normally again since I’ve been here, so I won’t lecture you on that.” You glance at his arms, covered in scattered scars from run ins with villains.

Most people look at heroes as an invincible force, unstoppable like All Might. Others may see Mindjack, but you just see Hitoshi Shinsou, your partner in crime.

“Thank you Hitoshi...for everything.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t know this facemask meant so much to you.” You punch him in the shoulder as he laughs.

“‘Toshi, I’m serious. Look at all you’ve done for me. You let me crash here, listen to me complain, make sure I’m okay...without you, I probably would still be lying in bed all depressed.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “I have to say it before I never get the chance to. You may be Mindjack, a hero, but you’re still Hitoshi to me. You do so much for me and you put your life on the line for others every day. I watch you and I’m proud of the boy who proved everyone wrong when they said you had a villain’s quirk. You being here for me after everything with Bakugou and always being there for me growing up makes me realize how much you mean to me. You’re my hero, ‘Toshi. But I need you to stay safe. Look at all your scars...” You pull back from the hug and grab his arms, running your fingers over his scarred skin. You’ve always known Shinsou’s job is dangerous - he’s a hero after all, he saves people. But he’s also your best friend. He’s a selfless man, a kind man.

You love Shinsou. You truly do, he is someone you can never lose. To lose him would be to lose a part of you.

He says nothing in response, so you continue. “Remember that time you fought that villain in the subway? All the news stations said that the tunnel was going to collapse and I just felt like my heart was going to burst. I saw you getting trapped and I felt like…”

You trail off, feeling the familiar sting of tears as you hold them back. Hitoshi gazes at you, lilac eyes boring into your own. “I felt like my whole world was ending. When you came out alright I thought I would faint. I was so scared ‘Toshi… scared you wouldn’t come back. I don’t want to lose you.” Shinsou grabs your cheeks, gently moving his hands so you face him. He wipes a tear from your eye.

“I’ll always come back to you.” You close your eyes, and press your forehead to his.

“You better. I’ll be waiting.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bakugou wants to be anywhere else but here.

He’s at Kirishima’s apartment - he’s been dragged out of his house by Mina and Kaminari for a night of drinking, with Sero and Jirou also coming along for the ride. The blonde would rather be in bed, wallowing in his misery, but his friends won’t let him stay inside. So he pouts in the corner, arms crossed and a permanent scowl painting his features. Kirishima gives him a knowing smile, and mouths “I’m sorry”. Bakugou clicks his tongue and looks away, grabbing his phone in order to distract himself from all the noise.

He would rather die than admit it, but he’s been looking for your Instagram ever since you left. You must’ve unfollowed him or even blocked him - he can’t find a trace of you anywhere. He hates this pathetic side of him, one that makes him seem like a stalker, but he has to know you’re okay. If his pride won’t let him call you, then he needs to know you’re okay.

To his surprise, you pop up on his feed. He immediately inspects the photo of you, and breathes a sigh of relief to see your face. Your tongue is sticking out all playful, beaming as you hold Hitoshi’s face for the photo. You’re wearing that cat headband you always use when washing your face, and he can tell you’re almost ready for bed. He smiles solemnly, vermilion eyes staring at you, so far away.

He notices you’re wearing one of Shinsou’s hoodies and his blood boils at the thought - he knows you are friends but he hates the idea of anyone else having you - although he shouldn’t be one to talk after bringing home that girl from the club. He hates himself for doing it. He stares at your face before standing, saying a curt “I’ll be back” before making his way to the balcony. His friend’s voices fade as he stands outside overlooking the city, and he makes sure the coast is clear before dialing your number.

Fuck his pride. He has to hear your voice.

#bnha x fem!reader #bnha x you #shinsou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha angst #shinsou x you #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x y/n #hitoshi shinso x y/n #mha x reader #my writing

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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DAY THREE

You wake up with a pounding headache, faint whispers of a nightmare with long shadows and wounded glares, a familiar face wracked with hurt.

Your heart thuds sickly in your chest as you fumble for the phone on your nightstand, wincing at the sharp light of the screen. Earlier than you would have liked, but you need reassurance of the conversation you’d had the night before.

Not the one in the rec room - you still grimace at the thought of how badly you handled it - but the text conversation held much later, one that had eased your worries then. You hoped it could still provide that relief now that guilt was pooling up inside you again.

When starting the show, you’d been given everybody’s phone numbers but hadn’t really needed to use them. So late last night it had come as a shock to you when your phone buzzed, lighting up with Kim Namjoon on the screen.

Part of you had been worried that he was going to yell at you or be crying on the other end. Biting at your nail, you’d let it go through to voicemail. Less than a minute after your screen went dark again, leaving you in shadow, regret had seized you, and you’d rushed to pull up his contact, sending a text. You look over it now.

He hadn’t replied after that, so instead you send him a quick good morning text now before getting up out of bed.

When you get ready and go downstairs, anxiety easing once more, you see that true to his word, Namjoon’s outside walking again.

If any of the other guys know it’s your fault, they don’t say anything, Yoongi silently smiling in greeting from where he sits at the kitchen bench, hunched over a cup of coffee like it’s a lifeline, scrolling on his phone.

“Morning,” you say with a yawn, gravitating towards the still-steaming electric jug. Past Yoongi, the sight you’re greeted by in the adjacent lounge area gives you pause.

Completely unawares to your entrance, several figures gather around the coffee table, where Hoseok is sitting with eyes closed and mouth hung open, moaning pornographically at the hands that expertly dig into him, massaging his muscles.

Behind him, Taehyung’s dressed in nothing but black boxers and a rosy silk robe, brows furrowed in focus and lips twitching with satisfaction as he rolls his thumbs between Hoseok’s shoulder blades, kneading out the tension.

Yoongi sighs. “They’ve been doing it for over an hour. Hoseok’s only the second person to get a go and Seokjin and I are still waiting. Taehyung just finished Jungkook, that’s why he looks dead.”

True to word, Jungkook’s body is splayed out on the couch beside the action, boneless like a corpse, eyes lidded and hair in a tangled nest. Yoongi calls out to him to confirm he’s still alive, receiving a wordless grunt in response.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi decides. “Do you want a go? Lady of the house, I bet you could skip the line.”

“I think I’d rather check how long it takes Jungkook to recover. I can’t be out of commission for the whole day.”

Yoongi hums thoughtfully, finishing off his coffee. “I guess Jungkook can now that he’s done his prompt. Not really much else for him to do except wait to see if he’s staying or not.” He bites his lip for a minute, jaw working as he mulls it over. “Do you have any thoughts so far? About who’s maybe going, who’s definitely staying?”

You shrug. “Seems pointless to consider before you guys have all finished, you know? Either way the decision is going to suck. I’d rather just enjoy myself for now.”

Yoongi pauses while a moaned curse fills the room, Taehyung’s elbow now running down Hoseok’s spine as he bends over, hands splayed on the table to keep himself steady. The older man huffs out a laugh at their antics. “Hoseok really doesn’t seem bothered, huh? I don’t think I’ve seen him trying to put the moves on you once.”

You grin, side-eying him. “What; have you been watching me? But no, he hasn’t, really. I’m glad to see them comfortable to be here, you know? This could have easily been so awkward for all of us.”

Yoongi hums in thought, nodding eventually. “That’s true. It’s a good bunch of guys they’ve managed to pick.”

“You included,” you add with a nudge to his shoulder. “You aren’t going to whip it out in the middle of the kitchen and get your turn over and done with?”

“Are you wanting me to?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow in contained surprise. “But no; I’m still mulling mine over. Seeing what the others do, what you like. I’m patient.” You stare at him, eyes searching for any signs of deception, but he seems genuine. He turns to you with a droll look and jerks his chin towards the lounge. “Taehyungie on the other hand looks like he’s warming up for the main event.”

“Does he now?” you murmur under your breath, looking over to the lounge area, where Hoseok has replaced Jungkook for most boneless contestant, spread-eagle on the carpet and sighing happily. Seokjin’s now under Taehyung’s grasp, lips not stopping for a second as he instructs Taehyung on where exactly to press and how hard. Taehyung, however, has his eyes on you, and a bolt of shock runs through you when your gazes connect.

“Come on over,” Taehyung calls out with an inviting smile. “Seokjin-hyung is almost finished.”

“Hey, you brat, you only just sta-ow!”

Jin jumps like he's been shocked, rubbing at the base of his neck with an expression like a wounded puppy.

"There," Taehyung announces firmly, "finished. Y/n, come over!"

Yoongi pushes you closer with a fond shove. "Go get 'em, tiger. Preferably in a different location to me."

"Beggars can't be choosers," you quip in a singsong voice.

"Oh, when it comes to it, I won't be the one begging," he answers casually.

You falter, open-mouthed, but Yoongi has already turned back to his phone, the faintest hint of a smirk still tugging at his lips.

Going over to the couches, you step over Hoseok’s splayed-out limbs and throw Jin an apologetic smile. The oldest contestant joins Jungkook on the couch, chatting in a low murmur with the blissed-out boy.

Taehyung waves for you to sit down on the coffee table, and you do, eying up the collection of suspicious and rather wet-looking bottles just beside you.

“Pick your poison,” Taehyung chimes when he sees your dubious glance. “Massage oils. There’s lavender, jasmine, eucalytpus and spearmint, almond oil, calendula and coconut oil - that one doubles up as lube - and jojoba oil.”

You blink, feeling overwhelmed. “Uh… What did the others use?”

“Hoseok got almond oil, Seokjin had the jojoba one, and Jungkook asked for the lubey one.”

“Of course he did,” you murmur. “I’ll have the jasmine one, if that’s okay?”

Though Taehyung seems a little disappointed at your choice, he wipes the oil on his hands off on his pants, leaving glossy smears on the soft black fabric, and reaches for the appropriate bottle. He’s dressed comfortably, just loose black cotton pants and an equally baggy tee, faded green. The thick curls of his hair still hang in his eyes, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he cracks the lid of the bottle, pouring a generous amount of thin oil in his palm. “You’ll have to take your shirt off,” he points out, capping the bottle again.

You frown, looking over at the other guys around the room. “They didn’t take their shirts off.”

“Hoseok pushes down his sleeves, Jungkook did actually take off his shirt, he just put it back on once he was done, and Seokjin’s- Seokjin had a speedy massage.”

“Speedy, my ass,” Seokjin complains from on the couch, jostling the black-haired boy who’s fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Ignoring him, Taehyung warms the oil between his hands slowly. The sight of glistening skin, thick drops running down his forearms where he’d poured a bit too much, and the lidded look in his eyes has you obeying, and you awkwardly slip out of your shirt, balling it up and holding the fabric in your lap.

Taehyung hums in approval, stepping up behind you and nudging you into position with the backs of his hands, knuckles pressing against the bare skin of your shoulders. You feel awkward, sitting in the middle of a room of guys in your bra, but you suppose it's probably good practice considering the show you're on. At least you still had-

"Could you push the straps down?" Taehyung's voice asks lowly from behind you, already slipping into a sensual drawl, the one he must be used to putting on for clients. "We'll start with a shoulder massage."

Great. With an unsteady breath, you shuffle them down one at a time, jumping when warm, slippery hands rest on your bare skin.

"Relax," he coos, and the more he speaks the more you forget your surroundings, the other people there. "Can you close your eyes for me?" You nod, not trusting your voice. After your eyes have slipped shut, you hear him again, his voice like an anchor in a black, hazy ocean. "Take a big breath in for me. Good, and exhale. That's it."

Somewhere to your right, Jin pipes up. "I didn't get this special treatment," he points out with a petulant whine.

As his hands run up and down your upper arms and shoulders, spreading the oil, Taehyung doesn't miss a beat. "If you don't shut up, Seokjin-hyung," he responds in that same sweet and husky tone, "the only treatment you'll be getting is medical."

Jin huffs, but leaves it at that, murmuring something you can't quite pick up. As you shiver at the feeling of Taehyung's smooth hands on you, dipping in front to lightly coat your collarbones and sternum, you hear what's undoubtedly the muffled groan of Jungkook waking up. After that, a thud, an oof and three sets of footsteps patter away into the distance.

From further away, another voice, this time Yoongi. "I'm assuming I won't be getting my massage, then?"

"Another time," Taehyung calls out, the slightest hint of irritation. "You guys aren't even paying me."

The ceramic scrape of a coffee mug being placed in the sink and Yoongi leaves too, the only sound in the room Taehyung's rich voice, smooth and velvety in your ear.

"Anyways, where were we?"

You crack a smile, eyes still closed. "I'll give you another week's accommodation here if you give me a good massage. Is that payment enough?"

He hums at that, almost like a purr. Slowly, you feel the gliding swoops of his fingers begin to slow, spots of pressure as his thumbs begin to deftly seek out any tension. "Is that so?" As his fingers dig in to the taut muscle just behind your shoulders, you feel yourself sigh, mouth falling slack. "I have to say, the coffee table isn't the best place for a massage. I'd be able to give a better service if we relocate-"

You fight a moan as he targets a spot just to the right of your upper spine, pleasure rushing through your body at such a simple touch. "If you take your hands off me for a fucking second I'm kicking you out right now." Though your voice is lofty with relaxation, the threat is there, and Taehyung presses deeper, triggering a cut-off moan that falls from your lips unbidden.

"Noted," he says simply. "Eyes still closed?" At your subtle nod, he continues. "I want you to picture a meadow. Green grass, gentle sun. You can smell the flowers that bloom around you, carried by a gentle wind."

With every word, and the nimble circling of his thumbs easing the knots of tension, you feel yourself unravelling. No longer is the floral perfume from the oil, but instead from petals of every colour, rising up between blades of soft grass. No longer is the cool moving air on your skin from the air conditioner, but a natural breeze that lifts your spirits. Through it all, his hands and his voice encompass you in a cocoon of bliss, head lolled back with the depth of it.

"It's just the two of us in the meadow. We're alone here. No responsibilities or deadlines or worries. We can be at peace." You gasp, core clenching as his hands lift slightly, sliding over your oiled skin to wrap around your neck. But instead of applying pressure to your throat, his fingers find the nape of your neck, stimulating the muscles at the base of your scalp before they snake upwards through your hair, bold circles and decisive lines that have you sinking deeper into a blissful abyss, textured grass of the meadow in your mind morphing into soft sheets, the sun a warm blanket and Taehyung's hands on yours not in your hair but drifting lower, lower...

You let out a strangled moan when you realise his hands moving downwards isn't just in your dream, but in delicious reality.

"Shall we take this off?" his honeyed voice questions in a murmur, and it takes your fuzzy mind a moment or two to connect his voice to the feeling of a finger tugging at the strap of your bra where it meets the cup, his knuckles brushing against the swell of your breast.

Unable to form words, you nod breathlessly, eyes still clenched shut in pleasure.

Rather than remove it completely, Taehyung pushes the cups down, exposing you to the cool air. You hiss at the feeling on your peaked nipples, panting as his hands sweep down, pressing the flesh on either side of your breasts and cupping them in his hands. He must have stepped forward at some point, because you become aware of the way your back is tucked against his front, head at the level of his lower chest, and a distinctly recognisable hardness pressed to the middle of your spine.

The knowledge that he's getting off on this awakes your nerves even more, and when you feel his fingers come in, rolling your nipples just hard enough to feel, it's electric. You moan, sucking in gasps of air, his hands rising and falling with every shallow breath.

When Taehyung speaks again, his voice has changed; a little darker, fuller. "But you don't want to be in a meadow, do you? I bet you wish you were splayed out on a bed, feeling my hands all over you, touching you, teasing you, fucking you. Because my hands aren't the only thing you want, hm?" Your mouth never closes, an unending stream of moans and whimpers filling the air as he grinds himself slightly against you, hands slowly building up more pressure until he's kneading your breasts and tugging roughly at your sensitive peaks. You realise now why he stepped forward; you're pinned between him and his hands, writhing but unable to shake off the intense pleasure, though you wouldn't want to. He keeps you close as he bends down, hooking a leg over the coffee table so that he's sitting behind you, slipping his arms under yours to continue flicking and scraping your nipples, a new sensation of his teeth on your right earlobe joining the fray. You rock your hips, unable to find an angle that gives you any friction.

"You're such a dirty girl," Taehyung purrs in your ear, evoking a throaty groan in response. "Look at you, grinding at the table. I bet your pussy feels neglected, hm? Must be so wet for me and yet I won't touch it. I'll make you cum from this alone, make you soak your panties just from my hands on your perfect tits, how about that?"

"Please," you whimper, feeling a high begin to build inside you, but one deeper than you've ever felt before, coming from a new source.

Taehyung's fingers speed up, merciless as they wreck you, your nipples on fire even as they sing out in pleasure. He growls in satisfaction as you pant out his name. "That's it. You filthy little thing; getting off to this. Are you going to cum for us?"

You suck in a breath, brows furrowing. Us? As your climax draws unbearably close, you force your eyes open, keening when a cool gaze greets you, the lazy smile and unruffled appearance of Jimin, watching you from the couch.

The sight of him, so calm and collected, fully dressed in his usual formal attire compared to your half-naked debauchery, sends you over the edge unable to break his gaze as your thighs shoot together like you've been shocked, trembling with the force of your orgasm, Taehyung's fingers not letting up as he purrs sweet nothings into your ear, flooding your body with inescapable pleasure.

Jimin watches you intently as you fall apart in front of him, one leg crossed over the other and champagne silk shirt making his eyes seem even blacker in comparison. Though you'd been on camera the past two times you'd engaged in anything sexual, his gaze on you makes you cum harder than you ever have before, his unique quality of making you feel studied, analysed for every minute reaction.

Once you finally come down from your high, thighs shaking as they grind together and core throbbing, Taehyung takes your weight, letting you lean back against him. You tremble as he uncaps the bottle again, this time pouring a glossy streak directly on top of your breasts, the feeling of the cool liquid on your heated skin making you whimper and look down. Finally breaking Jimin's gaze, you watch Taehyung's hands collect the oil, massaging it gently over the tender skin, shushing you softly when you hiss and jump in oversensitivity.

As you gasp for air, the rest of your energy leaves you. Your head lolls back over Taehyung's shoulder weakly, and you sigh as he presses a single soft kiss, right at the base of your neck, past your collarbone.

"Show's over," he says in a low tone, the melodious flow replaced by his usual voice. It takes you a moment of confusion to realise that he isn't talking to you, but to Jimin.

You watch bleary-eyed as the blue-haired man stands up, smoothing out his pants before he steps up to the two of you. You go still in anticipation of him touching you, his eyes heavy as they run up and down your half-naked figure.

A single hand reaches out, fingers laden with silver, and you swear you don't even breathe. Rather than your breasts or your face, however, his fingers find your throat, tightening just slightly as he watches you intently, head cocked to the side.

You can feel the cold metal of his rings digging into your throat, and when he applies enough pressure to restrict your airflow slightly, you let out a thin whimper, hips rocking against the table.

With a cat-like grin, he takes his hand away quicker than it came, stepping back. "Thought so," he surmises with a lilt of satisfaction. His eyes lift up past you, to Taehyung. "Good show."

Before your mind catches up to what just happened, he's gone, the creak of the stairs the only sign that he was ever there.

You try to catch your breath, sitting up as your vision blurs for a moment, still feeling blissed out from the massage and orgasm. "Holy shit," you make out, "what the fuck just happened?"

Taehyung gets up off the table but reaches a hand out to steady you, still slippery with oil on your shoulder. "A good show, apparently," he quips, "though if you let me take you upstairs I can give you an even better one."

Your hair must be a mess, your panties are sticking to you uncomfortably with the evidence of your orgasm, and your bra is still shoved halfway down your chest, but you take one look at the need in his eyes and the tent in his pants and you're nodding. "Please, Tae. I need you."

His eyes fall shut for a moment, like he's savouring the comment, before he opens them again and fixes them on you. "Let's go clean you up. And then we can make an even bigger mess." He grabs the coconut oil, the one that he'd proudly declared had doubled as lube, and flicks you a wink.

Still with shaky legs, you slip your bra back on properly, wincing at the fabric over your sensitive nippes, and hastily slip on your shirt as you follow him up. “My bathroom?” you offer, knowing full well it would be bigger than his.

In front of you, making his way to the foot of the stairs, Taehyung pauses. “...Yeah,” he answers after a moment, “I think that counts.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, but let it slide, content to watch the outline of his ass in the thin cotton as he climbs the stairs. At the top, he turns right and makes his way to your room, opening the door with a bounce in his step.

Once inside, he beelines for the bathroom and curses lowly under his breath in awe. “This is huge,” he gushes. “A shower and a tub?” You watch in bemusement as he whirls around with a boxy grin on his face. “Can we have a bath, Y/n? With bubbles?”

His innocent glee combined with the fact that he was still rock hard in his pants makes you laugh. “Okay, sure, we can do that.” You make your way to the jacuzzi, but just as you’re reaching for the faucet, Taehyung stops you with a tug on your shirt.

“Not now,” he whines. “We haven’t had fun yet. C’mere.”

You let his grip on your shirt pull you back to him, enough momentum for him to dip his head and join his mouth to yours, the hand that grabbed at your shirt snaking around your waist to hold you close, your still-sensitive chest pressed against his. He kisses much like his massage; thorough, not holding back. His tongue runs over the seam of your lips hungrily, making you gasp, and he takes your parted lips as an invitation to devour you further, your head rocking back and force slightly with the depth of his motions. His free hand finds your hair again, winding it in his hand, tugging just enough to draw a moan from you, grinding against the hardness in pants.

“Taehyung,” you gasp as his teeth find your lower lip, nipping teasingly. “Please, I need you.”

He hums against you, licking into your mouth hungrily for one, two, three more moments before he pulls back, chest heaving. His eyes are like two points of black fire, burning into you from behind curls of hair, and the desire in his gaze has you breathless. “I’m gonna make you feel good,” he promises, ducking down to steal one last chaste kiss before he releases you, stepping away to grab a towel from the rack. It’s the same thick white kind of an expensive hotel’s, and he shakes it out, laying it on the floor. Grabbing another one but leaving it folded, he places it at the head of the towel, the side closest to the bathtub. “Let’s get these clothes off,” he guides with a husky voice.

You let him undress you, urgent but not rushed, placing every article of clothing on top of the vanity. You stand, breath hitching as he unhooks your bra, crowning each reddened nipple with a soft, reverent kiss. He kneels to undo the button of your jeans, sliding them and your panties down so smoothly that you don’t have time to be self-conscious before you’re naked. His fingers wind into yours, pulling you down and helping you lie down on your back. Your head is resting on the folded towel, and the feeling of the slightly rough fibres against your back, butt, and calves has you shivering.

“You just relax,” Taehyung murmurs from above you, running a comforting hand up and down your thigh as he kneels and uncaps the bottle of oil with one hand. You bite your lip, looking down your body to where he settles between your legs, spreading them. “Fuck, look at your perfect little pussy,” he swears. “So wet. Should we make it even wetter?”

You swallow and nod, gasping when he turns the bottle upside down, and a stream of glossy oil, slightly thicker than the other one, stripes across your lower abdomen in a broad arc. Taehyung looks so in his element as he caps the bottle and sets it beside him, palms flat as he collects the oil and spreads it, tongue peeking out of his lips in focus.

Due to being in the state of unbelievably turned on, even the feeling of his fingers slipping down the creases of your thighs has your muscles jumping, a jump as he skims past your core.

“Shh,” he soothes, voice dipping back into that sensual chant, “I’ve got you. Just relax. You can close your eyes if you want.”

But you shake your head. For now, you want to look up at him knelt between your legs, the shine of his elegant hands soaked in oils as they run over your inner thighs, stomach and mons pubis, avoiding where he knows you need him most. “It’s not fair,” you mumble, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. “I’m naked, and you’re still fully dressed.”

He scoffs softly, barely more than a puff of air, but pulls back to lift his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly away. One of the more tanned men in the house, he’s a bronzed god, hard chest and soft stomach, biceps flexing with every nimble movement as his hands return to your quickly heating body. “Better?”

“Better,” you answer with a pleased smile, eyes roaming over the smooth lines and shallow curves, the dusky brown of his nipples and the trail of baby hairs that lead below his bellybutton to the waistband of his pants, the elastic worn enough to hang low on his hips.

You let out a throaty sound of dissatisfaction as he continues to pass around your dripping core, rocking your hips up with a pout. "Tae," you whine, spreading your legs further apart. "Don't tease."

"But you look so beautiful when you're needy," Taehyung retorts with a smirk.

Just as you're about to protest, though, you feel a single finger slip down between your folds, rubbing against your clit. You moan openly at the sudden pleasure.

"Oh that's it, you're so gorgeous," the masseuse praises, his own chest hitching just from watching your reactions.

You groan, rocking your hips at that single finger as it simply runs straight up and down at a glacial pace.

"So needy, petal," he gushes, voice velveteen, "was the orgasm I gave you downstairs not good enough, hm?"

You pout. "It was good, Tae."

"Then why does my baby still want more?"

You pant, staring at him with pleading eyes. You don't know what he wants to hear, all you can think of is his finger lazily running up and down your core and the smirk on his face.

That same smirk widens into a grin, not boxy like usual, but darker, slightly asymmetrical. "Maybe you're just greedy, petal. Are you greedy, baby?"

You whine, legs tightening on either side of his waist. "I'm greedy, Tae, please just give it to me."

"Fuck," he swears under his breath, leaning over you to capture your mouth again, hot and needy as you finally feel his finger circling your entrance before plunging in in one slick thrust, curling inside you so that you moan into his mouth, keening underneath the pressure of his body on yours.

"Tae, fuck!" you cry as he pulls out to slip a second finger in, immediately crooking and curling them inside you like he's giving you a massage from inside. The thought has you shuddering, letting his mouth, his lips, his tongue swallow your moans of pleasure.

The sounds of his fingers as they fuck into you fill the room, and there's no way of telling what is oil and what is your own arousal, wetter between your legs than you've ever been before.

Expertly, his thumb finds your clit at the same time that he moves up to three fingers inside of you, and you cry out at the added sensation, falling apart under his trained touch.

"You're so beautiful," Taehyung pants in between passionate kisses, licking the inside of your mouth like it's oxygen. "I wanna feel you cum for me again, petal, can you do that for me?"

"Yeah," you make out, voice breaking as his fingers speed up. You can't stop moving, hips rolling and back trying to arch even as his body cages you down to the floor, mouth slack as he takes what he wants from your body, surrendered willingly.

He's so skilled with the hand between your legs that you don't realise he still has one free until you feel fingers close around one of your raw nipples, rolling the bud mercilessly. You scream into his mouth as you cum, vocal cords vibrating violently, vision whiting and body convulsing, pitched to heights as his hands speeds up impossibly, stroking at your g-spot and rubbing your clit. "That's it, you're so perfect, give it to me, Y/n."

You cry out again as his mouth leaves yours and instead ducks lower to nip at your neck, sucking a single point of colour at the base of your throat. Mouth now uncovered, your moans spill out unbidden, raising in pitch as the warm coil of pleasure turns sharp, your nerves overstimulated. "Fuh-fuck, too much," you sob, weak hands pushing at his until he pulls out.

As you fight to catch your breath, still shivering with aftershocks, Taehyung sits up, hands running smoothly up and down your sides, one slick with oil and one slick with you, though your mind is too heavy with pleasure to work out which is which.

"You did so well, deep breaths, baby," he guides in a voice like honey. It anchors you, brings your vision back and your mind back into your body. You blink, dazed, and stare up at him with an exhausted but satisfied smile. "There she is," he chimes warmly, eyes appraising you like he's proud of you. "Do you think you can cum one more time for me, petal? You're doing so well."

You let out a breathy. "Fuck. I don't-"

"I can just clean you up and help you to bed if you don't want to. I can take care of myself. You don't have to."

You bite your lip, gathering the energy it takes to lift your head off the towel, looking down to see him palming at his crotch just enough to relieve the pressure. Though you're sure he wouldn't hold it against you if you took him up on the offer, you can't deny that you want to be the one to make him cum, not his own hand.

"No, I want to go again," you decide, voice still quiet as your heart rate returns to normal. "But I'm still so sensitive."

He hums in thought. "We have options. It didn't say in your limit sheets that you were opposed to anal." Your breath hitches and you find yourself nodding, wanting to feel him inside you so desperately. "Good? Okay then, petal, I'm going to need you to turn over so I can get you ready for me, yeah?"

He helps you up, guiding you onto your knees, facing away from him and gripping the edge of the bathtub for support.

"Is this okay?" he checks one last time, and you nod, arching your back in response. Taehyung chuckles, punctuated by the sound of a cap clicking open. "So you are my greedy girl."

If there was a reply in your head, it dissolves the moment you feel a cold liquid running down your cheeks, cooling your heated core. You sigh, folding your arms on the edge of the bathtub and resting your head, eyes closing as the pressure of a single finger circles your ass, tight muscles fluttering at the contact.

"Relax for me," the masseuse coos as he breaches you, sinking in easily with the aid of the oil even as you clench around the intrusion.

There's something different about the pleasure like this. It feels deeper, primal, dirty as he slowly fucks into you, the tip of his finger crooking inside to ease your muscles.

You only realise that your hips are moving when he lays a forearm on your lower back, stilling you. You groan in frustration, but it just makes him laugh, pulling out of you to press in two fingers instead.

"Two orgasms and baby still wants more," he muses, speeding up his fingers to make you whimper, moans catching in your throat with every thrust.

"Fuck, yes, I need you now, Tae," you babble in a reedy voice, back arched under the pressure of his arm holding you steady. The room is filled with the smell of sex, but it's lifted by the floral tones of the oils he's used, and it makes your head spin, dizzy with arousal.

He pulls out his fingers, smacking your ass lightly. You wait with baited breath as he shucks his pants, letting them pool on the floor around his knees. You crane your head back to look at him, but he's already pressing his head to your entrance, pausing to pour some more oil over his length before he's snapping his hips and fucking into you, bottoming out on a single thrust.

The breath is punched out of your lungs, and your hands scramble to hold you steady against the edge of the bathtub as you cry out brokenly. "So full," you moan, toes curling.

Taehyung lets out a throaty growl as he stays sheathed in you for a moment, grinding his hips against your ass as you adjust. "Oh, fuck," he curses lowly. "So good, baby."

After another moment, you feel him shift inside you, like he's adjusting his stance. Reflexively, you grip onto the side of the bathtub, moments before he pulls out swiftly and thrusts back inside you, your whole body jerking with the force of it.

You let out a long moan, voice jumping every time his hips meet yours, shallow but quick strokes that have you drooling. With every slide of his cock inside you, so unbelievably slick with the excess massage oil, you feel yourself being fucked dumb, incoherent.

"Tae, Tae, yes, god, hngh, please Tae," you chant thoughtlessly as he fills you over and over again.

His growls of response and the slap of skin-on-skin surrounds you, flooding your senses.

"I'm not gonna last long," he warns, but you feel your own high building inside you, only needing a little more to send you over.

"Cum inside me," you gasp, "please, fuck."

He moans at that, not a low growl but a keening moan that's followed by him speeding up inside you, a hand finding your clit and stroking roughly over it with four fingers, desperate.

Your third orgasm hits you like a train, rendering your whole body boneless as he chases his high, cursing when you begin to clench around him. Unlike the other two times, you don't moan or cry out. Instead, the pleasure is so blinding that a single sound doesn't come out at all, your eyes rolling in your head and your limbs going slack.

He spills inside you moments later, hands sliding up to massage your breasts as ropes of cum paint your insides.

When the two of you come down and he pulls out of you, you can't feel your legs. He cleans you up with a towel soaked in warm water, but you're so far gone that you barely feel it, content to let him manipulate your body, eventually picking you up, your vision swirling as the next thing you feel is a mattress below you and a blanket above. You mumble something, not even knowing what, and let the smooth motions of a hand rubbing your back soothe you into sleep.

TAGLIST

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

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Survivor’s Remorse (Ethan x f!MC)

Summary: Set after the events of chapter 11, Naomi isn’t handling things as well as she thought she would.

Tags: @takemyopenheart @aylamreads @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @kaavyaethanramsey @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

~v~

Naomi getting discharged into Ethan’s care seemed like a natural next step for them. After their nighttime confessions while quarantined, it sort of went without saying that they’re together. If it was up to Ethan, she’d simply move in with him as well, but for now, he is content with cohabitating until she’s recovered fully and cleared to go back to work.

To say the past few days have been exhausting is the understatement of the year. Most of the time, Naomi has a hard time believing it was even real, as it still feels like she’s sleepwalking through it all.

She’s been home for approximately 3 hours and she still doesn’t know how to feel. Ethan’s apartment is quiet, especially since he’s not even here, having run off to the grocery store. Between working 16 hour days in a hospital, living with 4 other people, and being a patient for the past 3 days, getting poked and prodded around the clock, Naomi is no longer used to quiet. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

So to soothe the impending anxiety, Naomi has been in Ethan’s living room, his speakers blasting some upbeat pop song that’s currently on a Top 40 chart. She can’t place it, but it doesn’t matter. She just needs background noise.

The music is up loud enough that Naomi doesn’t even hear the front door open. It isn’t until she feels another presence in the room does she look up and see Ethan standing in his mini mud area, dropping off his keys and coat.

“Hey!” Naomi instantly grabs her phone and turns down the music, her cheeks flushing as if she’s been caught. “Sorry I had it up so loud.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t that loud,” Ethan assures her. “I just expected you to be resting. I thought you were tired.”

She is tired, but she feels restless. “I’m off of work indefinitely, I’ll have plenty of time to sleep.”

Ethan drops off his reusable grocery bag in the kitchen and quickly washes his hands before heading to the living room. He drops a chaste kiss onto Naomi’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Naomi shrugs, unsure of how to answer such a loaded question. “Same old, same old.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow at the non-answer, but he doesn’t push it any further. “Well, are you at least hungry?”

“Starving.” Between the gross hospital food and the crippling nausea, food was the last thing on Naomi’s mind. But now that she’s feeling a bit better, she’ll welcome anything Ethan gives her.

“I’ll get started on dinner. How does French onion chicken and rice sound?”

“Amazing. Do you need any help?”

“None at all,” Ethan says. He doesn’t want Naomi lifting a finger while she’s under his care. “Just sit back and relax.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” Naomi announces, standing up. “Is it okay if I use yours?”

“Of course. There are spare towels in the hall closet. But uh, fair warning, I didn’t know what type of bath products you enjoy, so I went overboard.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, I think I bought everything I could get my hands on. It’s all in the guest bathroom .”

True to his word, Naomi finds an incredibly large gift basket sitting on the counter of the guest bathroom. It’s filled to the brim with shower gels, bath salts, shampoo, conditioner, lotions, loofahs, and other goodies that will take months for her to go through, all in her favorite scents: coconut, jasmine, and raspberry. It’s very over the top and the products are clearly more luxe than what she’d buy at the Target downtown, but her chest warms at the obvious effort he’s put into it.

Ethan’s en-suite is the same as she remembers from all of those months ago, the first time they slept together. Extremely minimalist with only a few of his grooming products. Naomi is almost certain he doesn’t appreciate the freestanding claw foot bathtub nor the large waterfall shower as much as he should.

Once she gets the water started, gathers all of her products and she’s fully in the shower, Naomi doesn’t do anything except stand directly under the shower head, taking a moment to collect her bearings. She closes her eyes, but instantly regrets it.

As soon as she’s plunged into the darkness, she’s back in the Senator’s hospital room. The hissing sound of the canister rattles around in her brain, the sense of panic in her voice, the ice cold rage in Travis Perry’s voice, the retching sounds of everyone vomiting relentlessly all play through her mind on a torturous loop.

Her eyes fly open, as does a hand to her chest, and in her peripheral, she notices it. The slimy, black oil they were all assaulted with. Naomi looks down, and it’s all she can see, as thick as it was all the days ago, coating from head to toe.

A gasp catches in her throat and she stumbles back, knocking over a few bottles in the process, but she doesn’t care. There’s only one thing on her mind: getting clean.

She turns the water up as hot as possible. She doesn’t bother with any shower gel, she simply grabs her loofah, and scrubs. The spongy material is coarse against her skin, and it’s perfect in this moment because that’s what she needs, and she digs it in as roughly as she can.

Scrub.

Naomi can still feel the poison. It’s on her skin, in her hair, lingering on her skin. Bobby’s face flashes across her vision once more, absolutely drenched as he took the worst hit, and it only fuels her further.

Scrub.

Her throat tightens, due to the extremely scalding temperature of the water, but instead of turning the water down, Naomi thinks about the tightening sensation she felt when she thought she might asphyxiate in the hospital.

Scrub.

“Dammit!” She doesn’t even realize she’s said the expletive aloud, so caught up in what she’s doing. “Just come off already!”

The concept of time has been lost completely, and Naomi doesn’t know how long she’s been standing in this same spot, methodically scrubbing and rinsing, rinsing and scrubbing. But it’s no use. No matter how much she tries, all she can see is the fucking poison. It’s past surface level, she can feel it in her blood, thrumming as it courses through her veins.

Scrub.

“Naomi?” It’s a different voice, Ethan’s. He heard the bottles fall off the shelves and ignored it, but he can’t ignore the fact that Naomi is yelling at someone or something. “Are you okay in there?”

He raps his knuckles against the door a few times, and when he doesn’t receive a response, his hand goes to the doorknob, twisting it slightly to see if she locked the door. She didn’t. Being courteous, Ethan knocks once more and when Naomi still doesn’t say anything to him, he opens the door to the en-suite and walks in.

Ethan doesn’t know what he expected to see on the other side of the door, but Naomi scrubbing her skin nearly raw under a stream of hot water was not it.

He throws the shower door open, ignoring the steam that billows out, and turns off the water. “Naomi! What on earth are you doing?”

“It won’t come off,” she cries.

“What won’t come off?”

“This damn maitotoxin! It won’t come off, no matter how much scrubbing I do. I want it off! I want it gone!”

Ethan watches as she throws down her loofah and just starts clawing at any piece of flesh she can get her hands on: her face, her chest, her arms, her neck.

Deciding enough is enough, Ethan grabs a large bath towel and wraps it around Naomi’s petite frame, holding down her arms so she can’t mutilate herself further.

“No,” Naomi argues, shaking her head, and she struggles against him.

“Rookie, breathe,” Ethan commands. He loosens his grip slightly and uses one hand to tilt her chin up so they can look at each other. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Listen to my voice.”

“You’re not in the hospital anymore,” he continues, struggling to keep his voice even and his emotions in check. “You’re with me, you’re in my shower. The toxin is gone, it’s not on your skin, it’s not in your system. You’re clean and you’re safe. I promise you’re safe.”

He repeats the last sentence over and over and over again, until it’s a chant. Eventually Naomi’s body loosens up and she allows him to support some of her body weight. Eventually, they sink to the floor, and Ethan cradles her close to his chest.

Naomi doesn’t know how long they’ve been in this position, but the world is finally coming back into focus. Her senses are her own again, no longer controlled by pervasive memories, and the first thing she smells is Ethan’s cologne, and she feels his fingers tracing nonsensical patterns on her back.

The silence they’ve been plunged back into is deafening, and now she’s faced with the crushing weight of her reality.

“I almost died the other day,” Naomi says, her voice barely above a whisper. It’s a fact she’s always been cognizant of, but even more so now that the adrenaline has worn off. Holy shit, she really could’ve been dead, cold and in a grave right now.

“But you didn’t.”

“Yeah, but...I was so c-close.” Fat tears roll down her cheeks, and she doesn’t have the energy to do anything about them.

“But you didn’t,” Ethan repeats, his voice coming gruffer than usual. He doesn’t want her dwelling.

“But Bobby did. And he leaves behind an entire family that loves him.” She can still see his lifeless body on the cold hospital floor, convulsing and gasping for air. “And Danny did. He was one of my first friends at Edenbrook. He was the only nurse who had my back after Landry spread lies about me. He and Sienna were…” her voice trails off as she’s unable to finish her sentence. “Sienna probably hates me.”

“Trust me, Sienna could never hate you. I’ve never seen a more steadfast and loyal friend.”

Naomi flashes back to all of her not-so-subtle matchmaking attempts to get Sienna and Danny together. After all of Sienna’s troubles with Wayne, she wanted nothing more than her best friend to be happy, and now Naomi has ruined it for her.

Another sob bubbles up in her throat and she can’t push it away. “She doesn’t h-hate me n-now, but wait until the shock wears off and the resentment starts s-setting in. This is all my f-fault.”

“Naomi, this is not your fault,” Ethan argues.

“I should’ve never poached Ed from Mass Kenmore. I s-shouldn’t have gone running guns blazing into his suite. I should’ve called more security other than Bobby to help-p, I should’ve w-waited for y-you. I should’ve called the police. I should’ve have b-been able to talk Travis down.”

Ethan clears his throat before speaking, trying to keep himself in check. If Naomi is going to be okay, he can’t let his own emotions selfishly take over. “Travis had it in his head that Ed needed to pay for what happened to his brother. No one on this earth could have stopped him from doing what he did. It’s not your fault, and you’re no less of a person for not being able to stop a psychopath. No matter how strong and formidable you are, you are just one person, and I am refusing to let you carry the weight of that burden by yourself.”

Of course deep, deep, deep down, the logical part of Naomi’s brain knows it wasn’t directly her fault, but the illogical part still feels incredibly responsible for the events that played out at Edenbrook.

Naomi sniffles, the heat of the shower now gone and a shiver racks her body. Ethan notices it instantly, and in a show of strength, he scoops her out of the shower, carrying her back into his bedroom.

He finds the warmest clothes he can get his hands on, a worn Johns Hopkins sweatshirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms that are entirely too big on her. He ushers her into bed, pulling the soft duvet over her.

“You’re not getting in too?” Naomi asks, and Ethan picks up on the slight panic in her voice.

“Yeah, I just need to change out of my clothes, and I’ll be right back.”

She watches as Ethan quickly discards his work clothes and he slides into bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Naomi huddles closer to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“My hair is going to be a disaster once it dries,” she mumbles against his skin. Her curly hair demands a very strict routine.

“I’ll help you.”

For the first time in the past 72 hours, Naomi manages to laugh. The image of Ethan trying to detangle and properly moisturize her hair is hilarious, and now she has to see it. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I should get back into the kitchen. I know you’re really hungry and dinner isn’t going to cook itself.”

Silently protesting, Naomi’s fingers dig into his arm, willing him to not leave. She doesn’t want to be left alone, especially not for something as trivial as dinner. She pulls away so she can look him in the eyes.“Can we just lay here for a little while longer?”

“I’ll stay here for as long as you want me to.”

“You promise?”

Ethan nods and places a soft kiss on her lips–they’ve made a pact to be as tactile with each other as possible, both in public and in private. After the events of the last few days, what’s the use in hiding how they feel about each other? “I promise.”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices: open heart #open heart 2 #open heart #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

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strandedcrow · 3 years

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thoughts on the glass animals album dreamland? (info dump welcome)

YES hi hello thank you

I talked like,, a lot so I’m sparing y'all with a cut

The album itself is just so well organized and executed it’s insane. The entire album just captures the feeling of taking a nostalgic trip through your own life and the way that it ends up forgotten in a way, sickly sweet and vague, subdued, and so easy to get completely lost in. And part of what makes it so well done is the pure authenticity it’s completely drenched in. The album itself didn’t exist until quarantine hit, they had been taking a break after a band member was injured and had to recover, and that isolation had that same impact on them as it did on most of us, and the result was this extremely genuine album embodying nostalgia itself.

As a band they’ve always done such an incredible job of maintaining a theme throughout their album that is consistent without becoming repetitive. The song Dreamland does such a perfect job of pulling you into the album, easing you into a subdued album, fuzzy around the edges but clear once you can hone in on the details, on what’s being said, perfectly reflective of the theme it’s introducing you to. While it’s doing that it’s also providing a smooth shift from the last song on the album before it, HTBAHB. Agnes leaves that album off on such an extremely a somber, desperate, and lost note, which Dreamland picks up, just as lost in itself, taking off so beautifully from Agnes’ “You’re gone but you’re on my mind, I’m lost but I don’t know why,” and getting into the why. But it does so by warning you first, “You see in kodachrome, you see in pink and gold.” This album is distorted, it’s not right, the colors are wrong and everything is sweeter than it should be. At the same time, it sets up for the songs to follow, like “That worst thing you said” for It’s All So Incredibly Loud and “You were ten years old, holding hands in the classroom, he had a gun on the first day of high school” for Space Ghost Coast to Coast.It’s those vague, unconnected memories that you haven't quite grasped onto yet in full, but you know you’re going to get lost in them once you do. You’re stepping back from the overload of information and action today to visit who you used to be and what made you who you are now.

Right after it, Tangerine does something that Life Itself did for HTBAHB, it smoothened the general sound’s transition between albums. Just as Life Itself, with its beat similar to the album before its own could have fit into ZABA with no issue, Tangerine could have been on HTBAHB without disrupting the album. The “retro” vibe, the themes revolving around both the nostalgia of Dreamland and those of past relationships deteriorating because of missed opportunities and growing apart fits so well into both albums, it’s such a great transition from the past album to the current. The “I’m begging, hands knees please, tangerine” is also a common expression used (often as a double entendre) by them, again like in Life Itself, with its chorus being “Come back down to my knees, gotta get back, gotta get free, come back down to my knees, lean back now, lean back and breathe,” which just sets up for a really smooth callback to previous songs and album. Something else that Tangerine establishes is something that’s been a running theme with Glass Animals since ZABA: fruit. There is a lot of fruit here. It used to be a running joke that Glass Animals wasn’t actually a band, but a cryptic pineapple worshipping cult (no amount of music made will fool me, this is definitely a pineapple cult). This album uses fruit to remind you of the sugary sweetness of nostalgia, but there’s more history and, well, fan specific nostalgia that goes with that metaphor, too.

Hot Sugar is similar to a later song, Waterfalls Coming Out Your mouth, in that it’s about someone who is so cool that they aren’t actually cool. The person isn’t genuine, the idea of them isn’t actually them, but this was someone that you still want to be anyways, because who wouldn’t want to be that cool? The song doesn’t have much deeper meaning underlying it compared to some other’s because that depth doesn’t exist here, with this person. You know they’re “faking it,” but it doesn’t really matter beyond deciding if you actually like them or if you just want to be them, and the answer is the latter. This song is also similar to another, later song, Tokyo Drifting, introducing the listener to this person that he wants to be like, referencing “Hot rubber on the tar,” and setting the stage for the later song to tell you more about what he wanted to be like. Also, once again, through a mention of watermelon, fruit continues to be a recurring theme in the earlier tracks on this album, when the trip through nostalgic memories is still more sweet than bitter.

Right after we get introduced to this idea of who he wanted to be, we move onto what became of someone he knew closely, shared a lot with, and very suddenly lost touch with through Space Ghost Coast to Coast. The music itself is reminiscent of the music he listened to at the time. This song, being a telling of something that actually happened, is so authentic and raw in how it ends up, all still told through the layer of confusion, hurt, and again, that sweetness of nostalgia, with “You look bizarre in the apricot” establishing a deceptively sweet but confused tone over something heavy through yet another fruit metaphor. This song also manages to hit on other songs from the album when he tries to delve into why his friend did what he did, “Were you bored of gender norms,” matching with Dreamland’s “Go ask your questions like “What makes a man?”,” “… of being alone,” matching Heat Waves’ “I don’t wanna be alone, you know it hurts me too,” and “… no mama home, a bad divorce” matching pretty much the entirety of Domestic Bliss. Like Hot Sugar, this song sets up for Tokyo Drifting, with his idea of who he wants to be but isn’t, with “Remember when you stole mom’s old Geo Metro, you wore her old bathrobe, too small to see the road.” There’s also more blatant references being made to both past shooters (Black cap back with a trench coat, ay) and the arguments afterwards of what motivated them (Playing too much of that GTA, playing too much of that Dr. Dre). While he still wants to understand his old friend, and what happened for him to change so abruptly and dangerously, he does not want anything to do with him anymore. It’s a song about a loss of innocence and the understanding that sometimes you just won’t understand why someone does something. It’s just a complete banger in general.

Which then takes us to Tokyo Drifting, which absolutely slaps. The song itself revolves around what he wanted to be like, singing from a new persona rather than his own (Cane Suga from HTBAHB was done through the same persona). It breaks the pattern of referencing to fruit, instead focusing on drugs and alcohol, dropping the sickly sweet lens of nostalgia for something more fitting of the song’s specific theme. Don’t worry, though, dragonfruit was used extremely heavily in this songs promotion as a single, so the fruit is still there, just not directly, and that lack of directly referring to a fruit in the song itself fits with the way that the song breaks from nostalgia of things that have happened and people he knew into something that was never real. There is no rose colored glasses needed for something that never even happened. I don’t have much else to say on it, it just goes hard, this was my most listened to song two years in a row lmao.

Melon and the Coconut is just sheer Glass Animals. It’s weird, it’s fun, and it sounds great. It cleanly splits the album in half, splitting the POV’s straight down the middle while making a reference to its own position in the album, “Sometimes B-sides are the best songs.” Needless to say, there are some super subtle references to fruit in Melon and the Coconut, the song about two fruit.

Then, the second half of the album kicks off with Your Love (Deja Vu), a song extremely similar in theme to previous songs about missed timing, like ZABA’s Pools and HTBAHB’s Pork Soda. Instead of fruit, “juice” is mentioned in this song. It takes the turn from thinking about people you were friends with, what you wanted to be like, to people that you were with, and things that just didn’t work out.

And then there’s Waterfalls Coming Out Your Mouth. It’s such a clean parallel to looking back on things with nostalgia and seeing them through the fake sweetness that time brings, with this song being about the rose colored glasses that were present in the moment, the time when you start getting to know someone but you aren’t actually getting to know them, you’re getting to know this other, more impressive version of them instead, and they get the exact same experience of you on their own end. He’s letting this other person have their own version of him while he has his own version of them in his head, and he knows their version of him is wrong, so he also knows whatever he thinks of them is going to be wrong, too. He knows them, but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s realizing here, that this person, like the Hot Sugar person, is too cool, and they aren’t real, it’s all just talk, and it’s all fake like the “chemical warfare, red lips and television eyewear, raspberry soda hair, in the pool with a blow up gummy bear.” It’s sweet, sure, but it’s also fake. “Chat shit but where’s the real you? Never seen The Price Is Right, I’m a liar been on that shit since ’99. You make me look like a clown, clap clap, you’re a clever clever cookie now” has no right go that hard, and yet it Does.

Then, abruptly, we get to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. The song itself is subdued, it’s that point in your trip through your own memories where you remember why things went wrong. You get shaken from your train of thought and lose your place in it, because you aren’t there anymore, you’re here and you can’t go back, you can’t fix anything, all that’s left for you to do now is mourn the wrongs and accept them, even though its painful. This is remembering what Dreamland meant by “That worst thing you said,” the realization that you have to break someone else’s heart, and how much that hurts.

((home movie: rockets)) is the longest home movie audio in the album, and creates a smooth transition back into childhood, journeying back through a sound similar to that of their first album, ZABA, on the way there for the album to transition into Domestic Bliss. This time, with someone else entirely’s perspective falling back onto knees, but this time under an entirely different tone, “Fight for me. We can leave I’m begging, please, on my on my knees.” These two songs back to back continue the downward spiral that too much nostalgia can leave you falling into, the wrongs, the regrets, this trip down memory lane has lasted too long, now.

Which drops us off at Heat Waves, which returns back to his own perspective after Domestic Bliss focused on a friend of his. It fits the bittersweet feeling in nostalgia, the understanding and acceptance that you can’t go back, you just have to keep going forward and separate instead for everyone’s sake, a followup less to the tangent in thought that is Domestic Bliss, and more to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. It also wraps up those previous album’s songs, Pools and Pork Soda in a way, bringing a sense of closure to the nostalgic feelings, as well as to the entire album.

And finally Helium, the bookend opposite to Dreamland. This song flawlessly embodies that feeling of when you realize you’ve just been sitting and staring at a photo album for an hour now, and you finally take a look around you, feeling the air conditioning on your skin, hearing the sounds of the world around you, snapping back out of your train of thought and into real life again. Things didn’t work the way that you used to think they would, but that’s a good thing. It is such a perfect ending to the nostalgic journey that is this entire album. Fading back into the melody that started this journey of sickly sweet memories of people you looked up to, when you learned for the first time that people can change and you might not ever understand why, ideas of who you once wanted to be, finding something light that you can laugh about, realizing how similar so many things in your life have been to each other, the realization that the people you used to look up to might not have actually been that impressive the whole time, your regrets, times you wish you could have done more, and the understanding that sometimes you shouldn’t have done so much.

I love this album so much man

#hi glass an/imals is my favroite band i have listened to them since 2013 and i love them thank u amen #ask #anon

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years

Text

The sound of the belt whipping against the laminated floorboard startled Nakamura, who was seconds from hyperventilating. Inviting you was supposed to be a pleasant surprise – not a damn bloodbath. Unfortunately, he did not realize Ichika’s malicious intentions until it was too late. He was merely a pawn in her grand scheme.

“So, we doin’ this the easy way or the hard way?” The inquiry was accompanied by a non-verbal threat one that was conveyed by the stretching of the accessory within your grasp. Though, Ichika’s demeanour did not indicate any sense of fear. It was the contrary – she appeared to be thriving off the threats to her well-being.

“I prefer the hard way, if I’m being honest.” With a goofy grin plastering against her face, she ushered the stray blonde strands cascading along her shoulder to her back in a nonchalant movement. While your stance radiated a sense of authority; hers showcased a blatant lack of concern.

“Y/n…” Osamu who was not afforded a moment to recover from the assault, was battling nausea from his rising stress levels. He intuitively proceeded a step in your direction, desiring now more than ever for you to enter his embrace. He felt filthy, and he needed to know that things would be okay. That you would accept him, even now.

“Don’t worry, baby. I dealt with your crazy fangirls before. I can handle this.” A quick glance was stolen in his direction to supply him with momentary solace – you wanted him to know that the kiss was not his fault, and you were not angry with him.

But your actions created an opportunity for the blonde to find security behind one of the restaurant tables. Planting her palms against the wooden counter, she leaned forward to taunt you.

“That’s cute. Crazy fangirl, is that what you think I am?” An artificial gasp parted her lips, and when you returned your icy stare to her, the sight prompted irritation to tighten your jaw.

Mr. Sakai watched his daughter’s antics in horror. He always knew someday her devilish plotting would result in a threat to her life. Ichika was not a good person, after all. And yet, he found himself caving into the selfish desire to protect her.

“This… this is madness! I am going to call the police.” His quivering fingers reached for the landline on the corner of his office table, but the device was immediately plucked out of his grasp. Hanamaki settled onto the table, stretching out his long legs before returning the handset to the housing post.

“Woops. Sorry ‘bout that, grandpa. Can’t let you do that.”

As bewilderment washed over the elderly male’s visage, Makki lifted his shoulders into a shrug then turned his attention to Matsukawa. The ‘how dare you’ spat towards him was disregarded with a little snicker. “Matsu, did you call Iwa?”

“Superman is on his way now.” His response was accompanied by a low chuckle. He wondered how Iwaizumi would react to his beloved y/n in a state of chaos. Would he stop you? Or would he join you, and direct his attention to the male at the center of it all? Only time would tell.

On the other side of the restaurant, Ichika continued issuing taunting remarks. Although, she would not have been this lively and pointed if there was not a rectangular piece separating you from her.

“Aren’t you even the tiniest bit afraid? Has it never occurred to you that he may have gotten bored of little miss perfect?” The snarl curving her upper lip made her resemble an angry animal, and while she may have intended on insulting you, the nickname brought you amusement.

“If you knew me at all, you would know that I am the furthest thing from perfect.”

Perfect was overrated anyway.

Exhaling a breath, you launched the belt in her direction in a quick motion, but Ichika thrusted her weight back to avoid the blow. The distance between you two was beginning to become a problem.

“Oh, you’re right. I do remember him talking about how you’re always ditching him.” Remaining a few inches away from the table, she puffed out her cheeks then tilted her head, in an artificial stance of thought. Her distracted state however granted you an opportunity to capitalize on the area.

Placing your freehand onto the counter, you tactfully jumped onto the counter then proceeded closer to her. A toothy simper was presented towards her as you sauntered across the table. “Again. If you knew anything about my relationship, you would know that he’s the one always ditching me. Not the other way around.” You were about to return to the ground when her words compelled you to halt.

“He’s always ditching you… I know that, silly. But did you know that he ditches you to have drinks with me?” A knowing laugh exited her mouth once she saw recognition flash in your eyes. She had only guessed that the cook did not tell you about their evening together, but it was surprising to know neither did the other twin. Atsumu Miya struck her as a loyal friend, and yet he covered for his brother. Fascinating.

“What?” There was only one night she could be referring to. The night he was celebrating with Atsumu. Inside of your chest, your heart thrashed violently – pleading to escape rather than accept the truth behind her words. Falling still, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip until blood tangled with your tongue inside of your mouth. It couldn’t be true. Could it?

“That night… His twin mentioned something about you being tired after playing with your little friends. Ring a bell?” This was it, Ichika mentally commented. She had caught you in her web.

When the blonde ripped away her gaze from you, your y/c/e irises landed on your hands. When did the colours drain away from your vision? Was everything always this red?

“Y/n. It wasn’t like that.” Osamu attempted to proceed closer to you, he was quite aware of the death glares that were directed at him by your two best friends, but that was the least of his concerns.

A bitter laugh was caught in your throat at his confession as you pinched your eyelids shut, aiming to remove the crimson lens forced onto your vision. But it was no use. The colours had drained away, leaving behind a single hue. One that symbolized violence… anger… danger…. and love.

“So, you didn’t know. Tisk tisk. Lying to your fiancée, bad pumpkin.” Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Ichika waved a finger in distaste at the cook.

“Shut up for a fucking second, okay.” But the growled response did not phase her, instead she found his ferocity to be quite attractive. “Baby get off the table. She is not worth it. Please. Let’s go and I’ll explain.”

But you were no longer interested in his explanation. Nothing but violence would satisfy you now.

“He was with you? Was Atsumu with you?” Striving to adjust to the lighting of the establishment, your eyelids rose and dropped in longer intervals. It was at this point, Ichika presumed victory was hers. You were seconds from shattering – or so she thought.

“Yes. And now I understand why he warned me about you. What did he call you again? His psychotic sister-in-law?”

Another wave of daggers inserted into your lungs, puncturing wounds that may very well never heal. While you and the older twin often bickered, you presumed that love was mutually shared. You would have done anything for him, and you believed he would have done anything for you.

But what did the Miya Twins know about trust? Loyalty? Love? It turned out they knew nothing at damn all.

This was not a matter a simple apology could address. This was not foolishly tainting the reputation of a schoolgirl. It was breaking that girl’s heart and spirit all in one go.

Let’s do it again, shall we - red

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: aAAAH. 3rd part will drop tomorrow. writing this hit me with some ~ sad emotions ~ so I must chill for a bit.

Taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @iloveanime691 @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @sadkaashistan @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @shakiraisawesome @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose @fandomtrashpandasposts @helloalex80 @stfucanunot @envyusshades @cuddlesslut @seijohiseliterambles

#osamu x you #osamu scenario #osamu smau #hq osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu

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sugar-petals · 4 years

Text

BTS Scenario: Taking Care of Them When They Have a Cold

↳ ♡ NOTE ⇁ time for fluff. autumn season is coming, let me set the mood right here, we’re going cozy 🍂

warnings ⚠️ hurt/comfort, brief mention of sexual tension

⌈jimin⌋ ⇢ Jimin’s cold is unusually subtle. In terms of visible signs, it’d take some time to notice it for someone who doesn’t know him or doesn’t check just how heavy another person’s breath is going. But feedback? You will definitely get. Compared to how he’s pouting about it, which will melt your heart is what I’m saying, the symptoms are understated in comparison to the other members. Taehyung’s cough can shatter an entire neighborhood, Jimin sneezing is as graceful as a gazelle. Mind you, his nose is runny, and the slight fatigue of the first two days isn’t negligible, but the major thing to actively mend is more psychological than physical. In other words, his body does its thing, you don’t have to overextend yourself.

That’s what you have to figure out first to really take care of him properly. After laying him down and bringing both snacks and liquids, talking is what he needs rather than ten thousand types of medications and cool towels all over him. Jimin doesn’t want to see you become sick as well so you don’t sit up close, but at talking range, and you text a lot during the day while you work. He’s worried about not being able to practice and hopes the cold doesn’t show in his appearance. You assure him it takes five days at best and he is okay again and promise a lot of kisses. With that prospect, healing is even sweeter. And, you know the guy, Jimin misses seducing you, so.

⌈taehyung⌋ ⇢ Absolutely enjoys being babied ten times out of ten. Nothing better than you preparing a hot herbal bath. Rosemary, thyme, camomile. The steam spiraling off the water surface looks so relaxing in the candlelight, the classical music you put on sways him into a trance, he lays there for half an hour just motionless. He gets a little tray of coconut cookies on the bed stand, you play the guitar to him, you massage his feet before he sleeps… Which, and he hates admitting it, makes it nice to be sick. By all means not because of the fever, but the extra attentions, the hot chocolate for bed. Taehyung thinks about that twice and concludes something. He doesn’t want to get a cold just to receive this treatment. Not for his own health nor to worry or overwhelm you, he’s not gonna guilt-trip you into being a servant.

So, you agree for later: It’s good to treat him sporadically just because, whenever and wherever, cue Shakira. That Taehyung so enjoys a good healing and mending time and it just explodes when you both have a reason to, that’s rather something to expand to the whole relationship. Taehyung will do the exact spoiling for you, with a romantic twist the way you know him. It doesn’t need a sickness to resort to doing nice things for your partner. At the end of the day, the body will remember it and get sick again because it sees what it gets through being ill. That’s something to squarely avoid doing, a random gesture is good for its own sake, amen.

⌈yoongi⌋ ⇢ Grumpy, murmuring, disgruntled he can’t work without getting a headache, needs a lot of silence to recover so he curls up on his own with earphones in and fifty playlists on repeat. He’s like tch, only thing I need is tiger balm to whip me back into shape. Or… wait. Wait a second. A cup of steaming hot coffee with extra foam he will not reject. Or a plate of fried rice. Anything fried and super crispy, really. Yoongi likes those things, especially when prepared by you. Nothing is more honoring. Actually? I’ll change the initial statement. Yoongi does accept some help. You simply gotta find out his catnip I mean favorite dishes and either know the place to order it from or have some kitchen basics down. Nothing super fancy though, it doesn’t need a God’s Menu. The right seasoning does the trick already.

He wants it mega spicy, sweating out the cold is the way to go said Yoongi’s mom back in the day so he goes by that motto. Love starts in the stomach for felines. If another BTS member drops take-out at the door, even better, that uplifts him greatly. When he munches, that’s the most gratifying thing in the world. Yoongi wants you to eat with him by the bed so that means chili in the bedroom but screw it. All that food and you cranking up the heater distracts Yoongi from his cold and some head pats have him on his way to recovery. And, by the way. He’s kinda turned on by you cooking for him so… the frustration is real, you’re gonna fuck like rabbits once he’s okay again.

★ ⌈namjoon⌋ ⇢ The friendly giant will stay in denial about his cough for at least three days and walk around with way too much medicine in his system. He begs for someone to relieve him, mostly himself, but all those sky-high standards are in the way. Responsibility! Hard work and endurance! Solve it in your head! What is the spiritual reason for colds? How many pills keep you awake for an all-nighter to write an album in one go? What’s next on the schedule? So it goes on, you know the deal with Joonie. You have to kick that leader butt so he finally enters the healing cave under the sheets. Don’t kick too hard though, he doesn’t have Jimin-level cushions. He topples over into his sheets fast anyway, he’s that level of exhausted from his own suppression.

The story goes on, Namjoon feels extremely guilty for getting pampered and still ponders the reasons why he is ill rather than slowing down a minute and closing his laptop for a hot second. It gets a little awkward unless you figure out your secret weapon. What he feels better with is you reading him stories while he rests on the sofa. I’m not kidding. Or if you’re busy or he wants to be alone, audiobooks. That input is like a lullaby to Namjoon who gets knocked out by the soft whispering only to descend into 12 hours of sleep. Ah, he’s namjooning. Yep. His cold will force him into resting, but by the time he recovers, he is six books wiser and has had the pleasure of listening to your voice which he finds soothing. Thankful he is, anticipate an expensive present and flowers.

★ ⌈jungkook⌋ ⇢ Meal and fluid intake: Quantity explosion! Wow, wow, and wow again, the sheer amount that he can snack and turn into what seems even more muscle and more sweetness. Guinness World Record. He knows his system is currently resetting, he wants to hand it the building blocks, he knows the math. Yes, even sick Jungkook is the cutest foodie in the world. Yes, he will eat his veggies. He worries about not being able to work out so you at least help him stretch his legs ever so slightly in bed. He’s missing his boxing gloves like crazy, he wants to see the members in the practice room, he wants his milk. The latter is easy to get for him, and FaceTime comes in handy.

Namjoon does a little motivational speech, and Jungkook feels better almost instantly. Later on, you have to scold him — well, just a little bit — for getting up in all that enthusiasm to do some of his routine on the second day, but he already knows it’s not good for him to get his heart rate up like that. He patiently snuggles in a cocoon of duvets with only his eyes being visible. Until, finally, his red lil’ nose goes back to normal and his lungs feel a lot lighter. Jungkook really hates being dizzy, so it’s a weight off his hunky shoulders all right. Then, he can join you at the dinner table for a double portion of extra Parmesan Spaghetti, and you settle on the couch to bingewatch romantic animes and any Studio Ghibli movie in history.

★ ⌈jin⌋ ⇢ It simply can’t be helped, he even wants to make this funny. Humor really is a never-ending well, Jin is Spongebob’s long lost cousin if you go by his amount of meme talk. He calls himself Rudolph the Red-Nosed Jindeer, stuffs handkerchiefs into his nostrils, draws smileys on his knees with the cream usually meant for a dry philtrum (he now has very hydrated knees, how about that), does impossible contortions to find the right sleeping or reading position. Honestly, you don’t really have to take much care of him nor worry, Jin will cure himself through laughter. The power of positive emotion. Entertainment is nothing to provide for, he’s a one-man show after all. Jin is the least bored when he’s sick among the group, however! It needs someone else to exchange with, you know. No punchline without an audience. Listening is the best thing.

Sit, lean back, see what he has to say. The only thing you gotta actively do is stop him from choking on his own spit after a particularly dead-on joke. Maybe it’s introducing some room for serious time that helps Jin enter a different track. I can imagine that. Some talk about memories, talk about sorrows and issues. Jin is a complete man, but he still has plenty of ’em, demons don’t evade handsome people. And those need to be talked through in a silent minute. Jin also enjoys movie nights with a cup of tea in one hand and syrup in the other, that’s the go-to way to unwind. You can finally go all out and pour him his tea, bake for him, serve some self-made popcorn, extra sticky and sweet, oh yum.

★ ⌈hoseok⌋ ⇢ If Jimin and Hobi ever get colds at the same time, this will be the poutiest contest. They’re the most vocal about it in the group. Hoseok, and that will come to surprise you a little, becomes needy. Not at the beginning where he’s confused and emotional about what’s going on with him (someone who works this hard and needs a fully functioning body is thrown out of their lane even by the slightest symptom), but shortly after. You’ll come to understand how sensitive his body is, almost as perceptive as Jungkook’s actually. His body blows up with a strong fever, a hot man heating up even more is just an explosion of physics.

He needs handkerchiefs, he needs tons of water, he needs music to distract him a little, he needs a heating blanket for his feet once the fever is gone. Granted, every sick person depends on those things, but Hoseok is someone who calls out of the bedroom often because he ran out. He’s not afraid to ask for things unlike Namjoon who would refuse out of overt politeness. You certainly have a lot to do because his cold comes in strong so it’s important you enjoy taking care of him and don’t do it out of obligation. Quality time is what we’re talking about here. It’s not about you doing the things, it’s about the presence. That’s why Hoseok will use his money well and always order proper take-out that’s not just classic fast food, you don’t have to cook or anything.

related: putting bts to sleep after a hard day

#bts headcanons #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #bts domestic au #bts hurt and comfort

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kiraswritten · 4 years

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(REPOST bc community guidelines lol request from @angryschnauzer)

pairing: reader x bucky barnes warnings: smut, unprotected sex (pls be responsible n wear a condom!!), dirty talk (this is a given w me) a.n: pretty please can always get you a ton of things (especially when you ask bucky) and thank you so much for this mouth-watering request oh my gosh!! tbh i need bucky giving me a back massage too.

Thank you so much for 300 followers! I love and cherish every single one of you so much ♡♡♡

“Ah! Shit.” you wince, rubbing your left shoulder.

Bucky notices you in pain and immediately walks towards you, forgetting that he was talking to Clint moments prior to you arriving.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later then?” Clint shrugs his shoulders and turns around to walk towards the kitchen.

“You okay there Doll?” Bucky asked, his eyebrows knitted with worry.

You gave him a pained smile, nodding your head, “S’okay, nothing an ice pack can’t alleviate. I’m sure I won’t be able to work out for a few days but I’ll be okay, thanks for worrying about me Bucky.” You head for the med-bay, Bucky stands outside the room, waiting for you till you came out.

You had a small tendon strain on your shoulder, nothing too major but enough to keep you from training with the rest of the team for a week. Since you were an Avenger, your healing abilities were different from a regular person, though of course, you’d still need to recover.

You exited the med-bay and saw Bucky leaning against the wall opposite of the room, his arms crossed against his chest.

“So, what’s the verdict?”

“Can’t train for a week and I can’t go on missions for a whole three weeks, Doc said if I don’t listen I could tear a tendon. Guess I’ve been pushing myself too much lately.”

Bucky pats you on your uninjured shoulder, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, his voice trailing. Before you could reply, he claps his hands, coming to a realization, “How about I give you a massage? Could help your muscles out and ease some of the tension from your shoulders.”

“You sure Buck? I mean, you don’t have to.” You say, not wanting to make him feel obligated, though deep down inside, you’d want nothing more than Bucky touching you all over, you push your naughty thoughts to the back of your mind, focusing once more on the gorgeous man before you.

“No, I insist!” He says, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close to his side, “Plus I offered, just bring your cute self to my room in half an hour and I’ll give you what you need.”

You feel your face heat up from his words, you wished he meant the other necessity you craved from your friend but nonetheless you nodded your head and went towards your room to change your clothes.

You knocked on Bucky’s door, wearing a loose-fitting tee and some spandex shorts, Bucky opened his door and grinned at you, moving out of the way to let you in.

The lights were dimmed and quiet sounds of streaming water played in the background, giving the ambience of a spa in Bucky’s room. You noticed he changed the sheets of his bed, he had a folded towel placed in the middle with a pillow right next to it.

“Okay, so uh… take off your top and once you’ve done that, cover your lower half with the towel and once you’re done just call for me and I’ll come back inside.” Bucky doesn’t look at you in the eyes whilst he said the instructions and began to leave the room before you stop him.

“No need for that, it’s just a shirt, we’ve all seen each other naked plenty.” You reply nonchalant, pulling off the top, revealing your breasts, Bucky gulped looking away.

You crawled onto his bed and placed the towel on your lower half, covering your bottom. You lied onto his bed with your front down, you looked up at Bucky waiting for him.

“O-okay, I’ll be straddling you while I massage you, is that okay?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, that’s okay, do what you need to Buck, I trust you.”

Bucky smiles and grabs an unlabeled white tub on his nightstand and opens it, you inhale the familiar smell, your whole body instantly relaxing.

“I mixed coconut oil and eucalyptus oil especially for you Doll, heard eucalyptus oil was good for muscle pain, and I know you like minty scents.” He says, taking a good amount onto his fingers, rubbing it all over his hands.

“Mmmm…” your eyelids flutter shut, feeling the different temperatures of his hands against your skin; his flesh hand against your skin felt great, the warmth from his hand melted the oil, he began to gently knead out the knots that were in your shoulders, the metal hand feeling icy cold, prickling your skin a bit, you jumped at the sensation but welcomed it once you got used to it.

His fingers were magic, both of them gently kneading out all the tight knots that formed in your shoulders, his flesh hand began to travel near your sprained shoulder, you sucked in air, bracing for the pain.

Bucky notices you tense and stopped his ministrations, “Doll, relax, it’ll hurt worse if you’re tense. Just trust me.”

You ease up and closed your eyes, breathing through your nose and out your mouth as Bucky began rubbing the injured area, going slow. At first you let out a hiss at the feeling, you were so sore and all you wanted was to recover already.

“You’re doin’ good Doll, just take slow breaths.” You followed his instructions, he continued to rub the area, the pain disappearing more and more.

Bucky then detaches his hands from your shoulders, moving downward and inward to your back muscles, spreading the warm oil across your back.

“Feels good Buck, ah,” you let out a sigh, accidentally moaning Bucky’s name in the process.

Bucky bites down onto his bottom lip, trying hard not to let the noises coming out of your mouth affect him so much.

He presses his palm into your spine, releasing some tension, causing you to moan once more, only louder this time.

“Oh, fuck, yeah Bucky, right there,” You say, your voice airy and light.

Bucky felt his cock twitch inside his pants, he licked his lips trying to to focus on giving you a good massage and not at your words.

“Oooh, Bucky,” You jerk your body from his touch, he kneaded on a particular place on your back that you’ve had the knot at for a while, “Just keep going there,” You tell him, all your words going straight to his dick, he mumbles a quick okay.

You try not to smile but you could feel his growing erection press against your ass as he continued to massage your back, you let out endless sighs and words of encouragement, each passing second you felt him grow harder and harder against your bottom, you let out a particularly loud moan that could have been mistaken for something from adult films, Bucky lets out a low groan from his throat, bucking his hips against your ass.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “You sound so good,” He mumbles under his breath, Bucky’s holding onto the last thread of self-control he had to not grind against you.

“Keep going Bucky,” You sigh, raising your ass to meet his thrusts, his hands fly to your waist, pulling you into his crotch, grinding his cock harder.

“Fuck, you feel good too Doll, please tell me this is okay,” He asks, his lower lip trapped in his teeth as he held onto you.

You nod your head and reply a weak ‘yes’, Bucky then gets off of you, kneeling next to you.

You push yourself off of his bed and turn your body so that you were facing him, you see Bucky’s eyes trail up and down, he licks his lips.

Bucky doesn’t hesitate for another second, your lips captured in his, you wrap your arms around his neck, your chest pressed up against his, you moan at the feeling of his metal arm grabbing onto your ass.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for entrance in which you happily complied, feeling his warm tongue against yours, he tasted so good.

Bucky then wraps around his flesh arm around your waist, pulling your body onto his lap, never breaking the kiss, he makes you straddle his waist.

His metal hand leaves your bottom as he began to undress, starting with his grey sweatpants that did nothing to hide his large erection.

You pull away from the kiss, Bucky reluctantly does so, you help him get out of his clothes, pulling his dark t-shirt off of his body, revealing his thick and toned chest before you.

Your hands travel from his shoulders towards his abdomen, loving the feeling of his rippling muscles, you push down his boxers, leaving him naked. You quickly shed off your shorts, along with your underwear, revealing your soaking core to him.

He grabs you by your waist, pulling you into another fierce kiss, Bucky then aligns his dick with your entrance, rubbing the pre-cum onto your folds, you let out a whimper from the sensation.

Bucky bites down onto your bottom lip as he slipped his cock inside you, slowly. You could feel yourself get stretched out like never before, Bucky takes his time to sheath himself into you, enjoying how tight you were squeezing him.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, just a little more Doll, then we can have our fun.” He lets out a grunt, his whole length finally inside you.

You let out a tiny scream as you felt his tip graze at your gspot, your whole body numb from the pleasure, Bucky continues to thrust in and out of you, his pace never wavering, he lets out a grunt, nipping softly on your neck.

“Bucky,” you gasp as he sucks a love bite onto your neck, your pussy tightening on his cock, he lets out another moan, detaching his mouth from your skin.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good, you close Doll? You’re pussy’s gripping on me so tightly, come for me Baby,” He snakes his flesh hand between your bodies, his fingers rubbing furiously on your clit, pushing you to the edge.

“Bucky!” You cry out loud as the two of you cum in unison, Bucky’s pace slowing down as he pumped his cum inside you, your arms lazily holding onto his neck, your whole body tingling.

Bucky captures your chin with his metal hand, averting your gaze to him, “You okay Doll?” He asks, his chest still heaving.

You nod your head, giving his lips a soft kiss, “More than okay, that was amazing. You reply.

Bucky grins pulling you into another mind-blowing kiss, the two of you stay in the same position till you had to break away from him to catch your breath.

“So… uh, I-I think it goes without saying but I’m in love with you Doll.” Bucky looks at you with hopeful eyes, you couldn’t help but melt at the sight of him flustered.

From the sex god you had the honor of experiencing first-hand to this lovable man you’ve fallen for ever since you met him, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

“Kinda guessed that when you, y’know,” You gestured to your crotch, Bucky’s cheeks flush, he pulls out of you, you let out a gasp from the feeling, he lets out a chuckle, kissing you on the cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” He says, making his way his bathroom, retuning with a warm washcloth to clean you up with.

With a change of bedsheets, you were tucked in Bucky’s arm, wearing nothing but one of his shirts, the two of you laid under his covers, Bucky staring at you with eyes of adoration.

“Buck, is there something on my face?” You say, feeling flustered by the attention.

Bucky shakes his head, pressing a light kiss onto your forehead, “No, I just, I can’t believe I have you in my arms right now. Feels like a dream.”

You bite down onto your bottom lip, “You’re so cheesy Buck, pretty sure our activities before would prove that this wasn’t a dream.”

Bucky nods his head, “Definitely, you feel so much better than any dream I’ve ever had.” He grabs your waist, turning you around so he could press his hard-on against your ass.

“Seriously Bucky? I need to recover!”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel smut

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paperbagpetrichor · 4 years

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Hey, I was wondering if you could do a Kakyoin x female reader, but it's "Rubber Soul" Kakyoin. Like with his strange behaviour and that, the reader notices something's wrong with Kakyoin and tries to figure it out? I thought it would be interesting and I know you would do an amazing job. Thank you.

[ I’m so so so sorry for the wait that this took;; I really hope you enjoy. ] You knew something was off the instant you felt a sudden wind blow past you. At first, you had no idea where it had come from. Jotaro and Anne were still in front of you, and Kakyoin hadn’t moved - yet. Stand still far ahead of him, he tripped a strange man, moving so quickly it was like the cherry-haired boy had teleported rather than ran. If you’d blinked, you were sure you would’ve missed it. You had no idea what was going on, and your confusion was only heightened by the menacing threats Kakyoin suddenly started hurling at the man. Eyes shifting from Kakyoin, then to Jotaro, then Anne, didn’t show much of anything. It looked like the young girl and stoic boy were both shocked out of their minds. Granted, so were you. Within seconds he’d lifted the man above his head, arching the stranger’s back and beginning to...what the hell was he doing? “Kakyoin! Let him go!”

Voice ringing in tandem with the stranger’s screaming, you raced over to your seemingly possessed friend only for Jotaro to overtake you and slug him across his shoulderblades. “Hey - what the hell was that?” you demanded, letting the black-haired teen take care of the strange man and leaving yourself to care for the one who’d seemed to go through some sort of psychotic episode. Instead, he completely ignored you, attempting to explain his actions to Jotaro and Anne, back facing you as his voice, oddly cold and nearly robotic, was interrupted by the laughter of excited children. Still, you were focused on Kakyoin despite the distraction, especially as he let out a humorless chuckle.

The talk of being exhausted worried you, though. It wasn’t like this was easy. You’d already seen (and participated in) countless battles with the others, and with the sun pulsing down on you all like a giant flame, it would’ve made sense if he’d had some form of heat stroke. But...if that was the case, it made no sense that he could’ve taken that man down so effortlessly. As Jotaro started to head off, you approached Kakyoin, putting a slightly-shaking hand to his forehead. “You feel hot. Maybe we should head back to the hotel for now.” You attempted a smile. “After all, we’ll still be here for a bit tomorrow. We can come enjoy the scenery then.”

It was like he hadn’t heard a word you said. Mechanically, he turned on his heels and headed towards the tree that the children had been playing around just moments earlier. Feeling out of place, you began to follow after Jotaro, only for Anne to point out that Kakyoin wasn’t following.

The instant you saw the beetle clenched in his jaw, you practically shoved Anne in Jotaro’s direction, blocking his view of her and steeling yourself. Had - had that really been a beetle? Why would he…?

“This coconut juice is delicious. Why don’t you try it, [y/n]?” His eyes, so devoid of the usual life within them, shining only with what seemed to be some invisible haze as he stared at you, smile more like a sneer, he handed you his drink, following after Jotaro.

Something in your gut screamed suspicion and the instant Kakyoin left you dumped the coconut in the nearest bin.

When you arrived to the party, Anne was screaming, and Jotaro was nowhere to be seen. Before the question could even rise in your throat you saw a hand clinging onto the balcony, body dangling down dangerously above a staggering drop that surely no one could survive, even if there was a lake below. Your stand was out in a flash, helping Jotaro back up, and in the instant you did you shared a nonverbal agreement. While Jotaro spoke with Kakyoin, you and Anne fell back, crouching to her side with your hands on her shoulders. “Get to a phone. Call Mr. Joestar and Avdol. Tell them it’s urgent.” The small girl nodded, a whole new form of fear flashing across her features.

You didn’t stop to look back as you rushed over to the remaining two. It was painful to watch Jotaro pack such a punch into the man you’d begun to develop feelings for, but that didn’t matter. Both you and Jotaro knew better. This wasn’t Kakyoin. Not mentally, at least.

No. This was someone entirely different. Something entirely different.

Surely enough, the instant he’d recovered himself from being thrown into the cable car, he refuted, in a voice as though two people spoke through him at once, “‘Possessed’ isn’t quite right.” Before he even mentioned it you stepped back involuntarily as you saw his head rise to the top of the car, body suddenly somehow larger than Jotaro’s. This had to be the work of the stand.

“Listen to me.” You cut off whatever Jotaro was about to say, shouldering in front of him. “Kakyoin, I don’t know what the hell is happening here. But I do know that this - ” you gestured back to the drink vendor, then to Kakyoin’s gigantic body, “ - is not you. I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to listen to me. Doesn’t my voice sound familiar? Doesn’t Jotaro’s, and Anne’s?”

For a moment the man looked puzzled.

“If you won’t believe in them, you can believe in me.” You slowly approached him, hands out in front of you, stand cautiously at your side, continuing, “It’s me. It’s [y/n].” To your relief something like recognition snapped both his eyes and mouth open, staring wordlessly at you. The two of you were at a standstill, both now in the small cable car. “Nori, I know you’re somewhere in there,” you whispered, “you can fight this. Just like you fought against Di--” and then a sharp sound, an agonizing pain ripping through your arm, and your world went black.

When you came to, Kakyoin was gone. Completely. You could’ve spotted his red hair from a mile away, and it was nowhere to be found. What you saw instead, as you slowly tried to raise yourself up, fire shooting through your arm and forcing you to let out a gasp of pain, was a shirtless man, now staring down at you, with a mass of rippling, yellow sludge draping across his neck like a cape. Within an instant the man had you by the neck, running his fingernail absentmindedly across your throat.

“What did you do with Kakyoin, you bastard?” you shouted, using your good shoulder to shove him against the wall of the car and giving you enough time to pull out your stand. “What did you - ”

Something filled your throat. It was burning like acid, pulsating against the roof of your mouth and tongue and teeth as you doubled over, coughing, hacking into your hands only for them each to become coated in the yellow surface. You tried to speak but the stand user had no such intentions of allowing you. “That’s right,” he began slowly, a satisfied look growing on his face as the yellow mass began to consume you, slowly but surely, “I almost forgot about you. I thought you were dead.” In a bone-chilling murmur, he added, “The good ones know when to stay silent. But no matter,” he threw his hands up. “You’ll be dead soon either way. And as for that?” Suddenly you felt a sharp pull jerk you forwards, nearly slamming you into the man’s chest, taking you a moment to realize his hands weren’t on you but rather your stand, breathing irregular and body tense. “You may as well put it away. My stand has no weaknesses, after all.”

“Ka...Kakyoin,” you sputtered, “what the hell did you d-do to…?” But the yellow mess had stuck your mouth together before you could finish.

The man paid you no attention. Rather, he glanced at something behind you, something you couldn’t see. “Ah, it appears your friend still doesn’t quite grasp the situation.” Jotaro? “My stand’s got a hold of you that you can’t escape, and you say you’ll - ”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence because you knew you were at an almost, if not definitive, fatal disadvantage. You didn’t have the energy to spare to look for Jotaro, but if he was in any condition like you, there wasn’t much he could do, either. But every stand had one weakness. Something in common. Something very, very simple.

Death.

Even if it meant taking yourself down with him.

You didn’t care when your hands became completely immersed in the lightning that was the yellow monster. All you did was push.

In what appeared to be a moment of panic he somehow increased the agony that his stand spread across you, but when the shards of glass punctured straight through his temple from the fall into the water, after your body being encased in an unbearable layer of pain from hitting the lake with such velocity, as soon as you could, you were once again able to move. Even with an injured arm, you’d managed to break the glass of the car with his head, sending him - and consequently you - both flying to the lake down below. There wasn’t much time left. Only the upper portions of your head in addition to your lower body remained untouched by his sludge, and the density of it sent you sinking far lower and faster and deeper into the water than him. But your stand managed to snag his foot, and as you sunk, he sunk with you. Something else hit the water behind you, forcing your grip on the man to let go no matter how hard you fought back with what minimal remaining strength you had. It was all but useless to think that the other splash was made by Kakyoin. But you were shoved away by a hand you couldn’t quite see, pushing you up with enough force to combat the weight swallowing your body, and by some miracle when you thrashed your legs, you found your head bobbing above the water, gasping for air and nearly choking on the amount of water you’d swallowed. Salt and blood and agony ran across your tongue - and then something vanished.

You were able to keep yourself afloat.

Senses slowly returning to you, you pushed off in the opposite direction, relieved at how easily and quickly you’d spotted the other side of the water. Whatever had shoved you had done so with incredible strength. Desperate, you just barely managed to worm your way out, onto the concrete, heaving. It took a solid few moments for you to regain your senses. By the time you had, you just managed to lift your head and face down whatever awaited you on the other side.

Jotaro…? It must’ve been Star Platinum that had hit you, because, in an instant, a flurry of unrestrained purple punches flew from Jotaro onto the bloody stand user, water staining dangerously red around him as Jotaro sent him flying back, with a final hit, landing with a sickening crack on the pavement just behind you. You wasted no time checking if the man was still alive. For now, you had to escape. You had to find Kakyoin.

You struggled with only being capable of using one arm to swim. Your chest burnt and you were all but doubled over into yourself from the land, one leg hardly capable of thrashing at all. It was undeniable that the other was broken, just beneath the shoulder, and as the water shaded scarlet, you began to feel the weight of your injuries. The only thing that kept you going was the beating of your heart and pressure in your soul to find Kakyoin.

Thankfully, about halfway in, Jotaro met up with you, hauling you back out of the water with him. He inspected you - a few glass shards dotted your hands, arms, and face, and of course the way one of your arms hung disjointedly at your side was unmistakable. “You have to get to a doctor.”

But before you could so much as think about Jotaro’s words, you heard your name being called, louder and louder with each passing second, and as you propped yourself up into a sloppy stance, still struggling with your balance and barely able to hold yourself upright, the sight that you’d so perilously fought for came into vision, slowing down and face straining with shock as Kakyoin took in the sight of you in. Bloodied and broken, but still beautiful, clearly unsteady and swaying dangerously from side to side, he reached out for you, careful to avoid what looked like a fractured arm and punctures of glass, pulling you softly into his arms, heart racing out of his chest. “[Y/n]? What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’ll...I’m gonna be okay,” you sputtered, falling limp against him, grateful for the support. “Just glad you’re okay.” After a moment of silence, still fighting for air, you asked almost hopelessly, voice cracking, “You’re okay, right? Please just...be okay.”

He had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, but as his eyebrows furrowed in even more concern as he vaguely spotted Jotaro approaching the two of you, he nodded, completely uncertain, placing his best attempt at a reassuring kiss on your forehead. “Yes. Yes, I’m alright, of course I am.” His fear-stricken face said otherwise, but physically, he was fine, much to your relief.

“We have to get her bandaged up,” Jotaro interjected. “She’s gotta get to a hospital; the old man - probably everyone - won’t know what to do with her.” Kakyoin sent him a silent glance, but it was one he’d seen before, only cast when Kakyoin was with you. The black-haired teen took his leave to the phone where Anne stood, petrified, to call for an ambulance.

Kakyoin held you close for a few more moments, silent, one arm around your waist and the other cupping your predominantly non-injured cheek, trying to calm himself and quell his fears - both for Jotaro and himself, but mostly for you - as he felt you against him. When he pulled away, you thankfully seemed to be back on your feet, at least as much as could be expected. He didn’t mind for a second that you still leaned against him, good arm clutching his tightly.

You coughed, still feeling the pain down your throat even though its origin had long since gone. Kakyoin put something in your hand. One of the coconut drinks you’d been planning on trying earlier.

“It’s not much, but you should have it,” he urged, offering as reassuring of a smile as he could. “I was surprised at how good they are. Oh, and those cherries are delicious.”

As you downed the drink slowly, still out of breath, Kakyoin taking you in his arms once more for support, you nodded, the first genuine smile of the day spreading across your lips as you managed to fall back into some sort of normalcy, or at least the ability to properly hold your own. There was nothing but the cherry left, and you presented the coconut back to him. “Here. You can have it.”

“As tempting as that is, it’s all yours, [y/n].”

#jjba #Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure #jojo #jjba part 3 #jjba p3 #jojo part 3 #jojo p3 #kakyoin #noriaki #kakyoin x reader #noriaki x reader #noriaki kakyoin x reader #rubber soul kakyoin x reader #x reader #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #stardust crudaders #jojo stardust crusaders

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kulaykape · 3 years

Text

Ina Kingsley x MC: The Proposal

Consider this a gift to @kaitlynliaofanxx for losing- I mean competing with me in our little Ina Kingsley smut off haha. And thank you to @citybornchick for all the help!

tags: @sakaily @samanthadalton @jenxespinoza @domakir @thedaft1 @hellyeah90sbaby @thepotatobleh @nydeiri @astrangeandunusualgirl

---

You will always be a part of me…

I am part of you indefinitely…

Girl don’t you know you can’t escape me,

“Ooh darling, ‘cause you’ll always be my baby~!” Aliyah hit a sick… okay, I’m not sure what that dance move she did was, but it was definitely sick (but also certainly didn’t fit a love ballad). Leon perked up from the couch, nose pointed up as he sniffed the air curiously.

“What’re you making, Ali?” He asked, his curious gaze turning towards big sis.

“Baked salmon and rice,” Aliyah replied proudly. Her food skills were almost as limited as Ina’s, but she could manage this. And bonus points for the way Leon’s face lit up.

“I loooove baked salmon!” He exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the couch, “Wait, why’re you making that? What’s happening?” Kiddo was too smart for his own good.

Aliyah exhaled a nervous breath as she put down the oven mitt. “Tonight’s the night, kiddo,” she said, walking towards the couch. And Leon knew exactly what that meant.

His grin grew even wider- which was honestly concerning for his bone structure- as Aliyah sat down next to him. He crawled across the couch to sit next to Aliyah, dangling his feet over the edge of the cushion. “Can I see it?” He asked.

Aliyah reached into the front pocket of her jeans, pulling out the little velvet box carefully. She opened it up a little bit, and Leon let out an awed ‘woooah’ as the gem glimmered and winked at him. “You think she’ll like it?” Aliyah asked. And maybe she shouldn’t have stocked too much credibility in an seven year-old’s opinion, but the vigorous nod that Leon gave reassured her just a little bit.

“It’s… shiny,” he said, “That’s a good thing, right?”

Aliyah laughed as she looked at the ring with a nod. “Not too shiny though, right? Ina might not like that…” it was a thin, twisting golden band, wrapping around a silver gemstone. Tiny little emeralds lined the band. Subtle, but it spoke its value. Aliyah let out a shaky sigh as she tucked the ring away once again, rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans.

“Ooooh,” Leon said, “You’re nervouuuuus.” He poked Aliyah in the shoulder. Aliyah shot him a smirk, pushing him away by his face. “Ack!” Leon bounced off the couch but was quick to recover. He launched himself into Aliyah’s side, tucking himself under her arm, “She’ll say yes, Ali.”

“I hope so, kiddo,” Aliyah replied, squeezing Leon closer to her side, “I really, really hope so.”

“So when you guys get married,” he started. Aliyah blushed, rubbing the back of her neck. She was trying very hard not to think that far ahead. She might combust. “Does that mean she’ll be my auntie? And Charlotte will be my cousin?”

Aliyah chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Not quite, kiddo. She’ll actually be your sister-in-law,” she explained. Leon made a face, as if that was unfathomable to him. Aliyah made a similar face as well as a realization hit her. “And that makes Charlotte your… niece-in-law, I guess?” She pursed her lips, “Huh.”

The ringing of the doorbell jolted both Diaz’s from their relatively odd thoughts, and Aliyah returned to her on-the-edge-of-a-mental-breakdown persona before standing up.

But Leon was faster. He dashed towards the door, leaving a breeze behind to mock Aliyah with. “Hey!” Aliyah exclaimed, “Leon, don’t open the door-”

Too late, seven year-olds didn’t listen to anyone. Leon swung the door open and didn’t so much as spare a look at the person on the other side as he threw himself into their arms.

“Inaaaaaa!” Leon all but yelled. And thankfully, that’s indeed who it was on the other side.

Ina grinned as she readied herself. And, per the usual, Leon rocketed himself right into her arms. He slung his arms around her neck with a big grin.

“You always smell nice,” he said as Ina carried him in. And he was right.

And, okay, Ina couldn’t not laugh. “Thank you, Leon. I smell better than Aliyah, right?” She asked as she kicked the door closed behind her. And since kids don’t lie, Leon nodded vigorously.

“She smells like coconuts. And I don’t like coconuts. How do you sleep in the same bed as her?” Leon asked, generally unaware that he’d just roasted Aliyah three times over. Aliyah shot him an unappreciative look as she trudged over.

Ina smiled apologetically at Aliyah as she approached. She shifted Leon over to one arm, wrapping the other around Aliyah’s waist. “I like the way you smell,” she said.

“You’re obligated to say that,” Aliyah retorted. Ina rolled her eyes sportingly while Aliyah grinned, then pulled her closer for a quick kiss. Leon gagged, turning his face away. Aliyah laughed plottingly, taking a hold of Ina’s face and placing sloppy kisses all over her.

“Eeeew! Gross!” Leon exclaimed while Ina laughed. He began to flail about, “Put me down, put me down!”

Ina eased him to the floor where he took off running for the couch, and promptly buried his face in the corner of the cushion. Ina turned her attention to Aliyah, stroking a hand over her cheek. Okay Kingsley, tonight’s the night, she thought to herself. Aliyah reached up to squeeze Ina’s forearm, with a little more urgency than usual.

“How was your day?” Ina asked as Aliyah led her into the kitchen.

“Without my love? Dreadful,” Aliyah replied dramatically as she bent down to pull the salmon out of the oven. Ina laughed heartily, giving Aliyah’s hip a squeeze as she passed. She thought that was funny? Good. Be funny tonight. Be hilarious, Aliyah gave herself a mental pat on the back. “Hey, uh…” Aliyah turned around.

Ina’s brows raised expectantly, “Yes, sweetheart?”

She calls you sweetheart. Dude, you’re her sweetheart. You’ve totally got this.

“I’ve totally got… what?” Ina asked, her brow furrowing slowly. Aliyah’s face turned red as she realized she’d said that last part out loud.

“U-uh, nothing, sorry,” Aliyah cleared her throat, busying herself with cooling the food. Ina turned around to look at Leon, shooting him a questioning look. He simply grinned at her, snickering diabolically.

Ina was a woman who got answers if she wanted them. And so she went over to the couch to sit down next to Leon. “Mind letting me in on the secret, Leon?” She asked.

“What secret?” He replied, blinking.

Ina laughed. Yep, definitely a Diaz. “You’re a smart boy, Leon. But I’m smarter,” she ruffled his hair playfully. “Ack! Why does everybody keep doing that?!” He exclaimed, scrambling away to the other end of the couch.

“Go on, spill, what’s got Ali so nervous?”

Leon scoffed. “Ali doesn’t get nervous,” he fired back, “She’s just… uh…” seeing as he was still just a seven year-old, his argumentative abilities didn’t extend much further. He turned to look sheepishly at Ina, then quickly looked away again. He couldn’t help but feel like Ina’s eyes were too sharp, like she knew something he didn’t (which, well, was true).

“Alright, dinner’s served up!” Aliyah called, peering into the living room suspiciously. Ina had that look in her eye, like she was looking for something. And Leon looked scared shitless. “Ina, stop interrogating my little brother.”

“What makes you think I was interrogating him?” Ina asked, lifting Leon up onto her back before striding back into the kitchen, “We’re friends, there aren’t any secrets between us.” She shot Leon a look over her shoulder, and Leon gulped back a Diaz-worthy snarky remark.

Aliyah looked unconvinced, but didn’t push any further. The three of them sat down to eat. Well, Ali and Ina sat down to eat. Leon was just inhaling the food.

“Slow down, kiddo,” Aliyah said. Leon did not slow down. She sighed, shaking her head while Ina shot her a sympathetic smile. Aliyah ducked her gaze away again, rubbing her hands against her jeans again. Why am I so sweaty? She’s not gonna say yes if I’ve got sweat stains! Or maybe she would… unlikely, though.

Ina kept a careful eye on Aliyah as she took a bite of the food, then her eyes widened. “Wow Ali, this is,” she cleared her throat, “You cooked this?”

An offended look passed over Aliyah’s face, and she didn’t hesitate to look at Ina now. “Unlike someone, I can handle something a little harder than grilled cheese without burning my place down,” she quipped. Ina grumbled, looking off to the side.

But when she looked at Aliyah again, she noticed her staring- rather intently- at something in her lap.

...oh.

To be honest, Ina should’ve known practically when she walked through the door. Leon was never that excited to see her. And he was also usually quicker to spill Aliyah’s secrets to Ina (that one about how Aliyah used to write anime fanfic? Nothing could buy the unadulterated glee Ina had felt). Only something of this magnitude would hush him into silence.

Ina felt for her own velvet box in her jacket, letting out a subtle breath of relief.

...well, it looked like she’d definitely be getting a fiance by the end of this night.

She nudged Aliyah’s knee under the table, smirking at the way she jolted. “Everything alright, baby?” She asked. She knew how it made Aliyah melt whenever she called her ‘baby’. And she seemed to physically turn a little mushy right then.

“Yeah, uh, everything’s great. Peachy,” she replied.

Peachy?! Who the hell says that?

Ina held back a laugh for Aliyah’s sake. “You’re sure?” She asked.

“Yep,” Aliyah replied quickly.

“...Are you absolutely-”

“Oh my god, eat your food, Ina Kingsley.”

Ina chuckled before doing just that. She couldn’t help but squeeze her fork a little tightly with excitement. She tried her damndest to not think any further ahead than tonight, lest she lose control of herself and demand that Aliyah proposed right then.

Dinner finished up quickly since apparently everyone at that table was starving, and they all moved to the living room. Leon popped on his favorite movie (and not so secretly Aliyah’s too), and found himself dancing to the opening song of Lilo and Stitch in front of the TV

Aliyah handed Ina the cup of coffee she’d asked for, an ungodly amount of espresso shots to boot in it. “One caffeine genocide,” she quipped as she sat down next to Ina.

Ina laughed softly, accepting the drink gratefully. She scooted closer to Aliyah, who snuggled into her side in response. Aliyah looked up at her, biting her lip nervously as she watched Ina’s smiling visage carefully. Ina wrapped an arm around Aliyah’s shoulders, pulling her closer and inhaling the top of her head. She let out a content sigh. “I don’t know what Leon’s talking about,” she said.

Aliyah laughed, squeezing Ina’s thigh gratefully. The two of them glanced at the TV, that of which Leon had yet to move his face more than a foot away from yet.

It was at the scene where Nani, Lilo and Stitch were surfing with David at the beach. Ina looked down at Aliyah with a smile. “Can you do that?” She asked.

“What, surf?” Aliyah asked. Ina nodded. “A little bit. There weren’t exactly a lot of real waves at Myrtle Beach,” she chuckled. Ina hummed, drumming her fingers on Aliyah’s stomach subconsciously.

She smirked a little bit, tilting her head to spare Aliyah a glance. “Do you think Nani and David got married?” She asked.

Aliyah’s eyes seemed to bulge for a second. Leon looked over at them at the word ‘married’, his mouth in that ‘uh oh’ shape. Aliyah cleared her throat, quickly regaining her bearings while Ina cackled internally. “Uh… p-probably?” She replied.

Ina turned her eyes back to the television, but she could still feel Aliyah’s nervous gaze on her. “It’s an interesting idea, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Marriage,” Ina said. Aliyah started once again. At this point, Ina didn’t know if Aliyah was even trying to hide it. “Spending your life with one person is certainly quite the endeavor,” she continued, then glanced at Aliyah, “But given how people still keep marrying, I suppose it’s worth the effort at least some of the time.”

Aliyah’s internal thoughts looked like that confused lady doing math meme as she blinked- several times- up at Ina. But Ina kept her eyes on the TV. No. There’s no way she knows, Aliyah thought, Leon didn’t tell her. Not this.

“Hey, babe, um,” Aliyah went. Was now a good time? It certainly sounded like it.

Ina’s eyes swiveled back on Aliyah once again, and the look in them knocked the air out of Aliyah. There was something expectant about her gaze. Something knowing. And dare Aliyah think… a little hopeful.

“Do you want more coffee?” She blurted.

Ina looked down at her cup, which was still mostly filled. She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I’m fine for now, sweetheart,” she replied, “Thank you, though.” Aliyah couldn’t help but sulk a little, slumping against Ina’s side at her own shortcomings.

Did you just pussy out? The devil on her shoulder exclaimed in her thoughts. Oddly enough, the devil seemed to be the one that wanted to get married the most earnestly. Stop being a wuss! You’ve got a whole speech and everything prepared, use it! Aliyah had forgotten about the speech. She felt around her back pocket for the slip of paper.

No, it’d look dumb if she did that… but maybe she could catch a glance?

A commercial break interrupted the movie, and Leon finally sat back down on the couch as the ads ran through. Ina’s eyes flickered at a jewelry commercial passing over the screen. She stole a glance at Aliyah, who had an enigmatic look in her eyes.

Ina probably shouldn’t have messed with her any more, bless her nervous heart, but she just couldn’t help herself. “One thing I never understood about engagements is all the jewelry,” she said.

Aliyah’s eyes widened as she snapped her head to Ina. “Really? Why?” She asked in quick succession.

“They lack practicality,” Ina replied, “Besides, rings can be dangerous.” Aliyah looked like she was about to have a meltdown. Ina was having way too much fun with this. She turned to Leon, who was watching the whole interaction with a confused face. She leaned closer to him and whispered so only he could hear, “I know, Leon.”

He pouted a little as he looked at Ina. “But I didn’t tell you!” He whispered back.

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for,” Ina replied with a grin, “Could you give me a moment with Ali?” At that, the light seemed to return to Leon’s eyes. He hopped up off the couch and stood in front of a hilariously distraught Aliyah.

“Ali, Ali, Ali,” Aliyah felt a poking in her side. She was about to scold Ina for jabbing her, until she saw who was actually doing it. “Can I go play drums?” He asked.

Aliyah gave him a look. “If you promise to stop stabbing me with your phalanges,” she said. Ina snorted at her use of the word ‘phalanges’.

“I promise!”

“Go to town on ‘em,” Aliyah said. Leon gave a little cheer, before dashing for the studio room that Aliyah had only recently sound-proofed. Aliyah arched a brow at where that sudden request had come from, and only just missed the look that Ina and Leon traded.

Before she could contemplate any further, she felt herself being pushed back down onto the couch. Two steady hands gripped her shoulders, before a pair of soft lips claimed hers. Aliyah chuckled slightly into the kiss, tangling a hand in Ina’s hair. At the very least, she could be confident in this respect.

Ina’s hands drifted down her body, stroking her neck, her shoulders, her arms, before coming to rest on her abs and hips. Aliyah hummed in satisfaction, cupping Ina’s face and pulling her even closer.

She let out a soft groan as Ina slid her tongue inside her mouth, nipping and teasing as their tongues twined together. “Don’t start with this…” she murmured.

“Mm… and why not?” Ina replied, “Is there something important we need to discuss?”

Aliyah’s eyes flickered open for a moment. “Oh, uh, no…” she replied, pulling Ina back into the kiss to buy herself some more time, “Just… Leon’s in the other room…”

“That never stopped you,” Ina retorted, “Are you sure you don’t have something to say to me?”

Aliyah pulled away from the kiss, resting her hand on Ina’s chest, over her heart. She looked up at Ina with those eyes that she adored, and Ina couldn’t help but stroke her thumb over her eyelids while Aliyah scrutinized her.

“I don’t know if I can,” Aliyah whispered. Her throat closed up a little bit, her fingers curling nervously on Ina’s chest.

“What’s the worst that could come of you asking?” Ina replied, her voice just as soft.

Aliyah didn’t have to search her eyes much more. “I think you know.”

Ina’s fingertips stroked down Aliyah’s cheek, and then rose up to intertwine with the hand that was on her chest. “And I think you know that I’d probably say yes,” she said.

Aliyah inhaled sharply as they sat up. “...what are my chances in percentages?” She asked.

Ina threw her head back and laughed heartily, still holding tightly onto Aliyah’s hand. “Ask me, and you’ll find out,” she replied confidently. Aliyah looked off to the side, blinking as if she were struggling to remember something. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a whole corny monologue prepared and everything,” she explained, laughing as her ears turned red.

But Ina shook her head. “No corny monologues. Just you,” she held Aliyah’s hand over her heart once again, smiling at the wide-eyed look sent her way, “And me.”

Aliyah relished in the feeling of Ina’s heart beating under her hand for a long moment. How was it so slow and calm? Regardless, she was glad that it was as she felt it ebb away at the tight hold of anxiety around her nerves. She inhaled deeply, eyes closed, before opening them and looking Ina in her eyes. Fierce and determined, but soft and sincere per the usual. Her words came out in a soft lull.

“...Will you marry me, Ina Kingsley?”

Ina grinned as she slipped the velvet box out of her pocket, and knelt in front of the couch. Aliyah’s jaw dropped like an anvil.

“Only if you marry me first.”

Aliyah looked between Ina and the ring; a silver and gold piece with a topaz gemstone. “That’s not how it works, you dork!” She exclaimed, before throwing herself into Ina’s arms as she laughed. The two of them crashed to the carpet, holding each other tightly as if they’d never let go. And for the most part, they didn’t want to.

“Is… is this happening?” Aliyah asked as she pulled away a bit, straddling Ina’s hips. Her breath started to quicken as oxygen became harder and harder to inhale, “Are we… did you… how did you know I was going to propose?”

“I didn’t,” Ina replied with a grin, sitting up to pull Aliyah into an embrace, “I was planning on doing it tonight. But I never thought…” she pulled away just enough to cup Aliyah’s cheek. She smiled with the most tender affection Aliyah had ever seen, and would ever want to for the rest of her life.

“You didn’t say yes yet, you know,” Aliyah murmured. Ina borderline wheezed.

“Yes, sweetheart, I will marry you,” and she said it with so much determination that Aliyah felt the wind leave her once again. She grabbed the ring box that had clattered to the side, pulling the ring out. She took Aliyah’s left hand gently, and slipped the ring on her.

Aliyah bit her lip as she looked down at it.

“Oh Ali, don’t cry,” Ina cooed gently. Aliyah realized that she was doing just that, and moved to wipe away her tears vigorously. Ina held her hands tightly, rubbing her thumbs over the back of her hands.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just,” Aliyah chuckled, “Really happy.” Ina smiled, holding out her left hand in reply. Aliyah plucked the ring out of the box and slipped the ring onto Ina’s slender finger carefully, leaning down to kiss her hand. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so much,” she dove into Ina’s arms once again, pushing her onto her back on the carpet, “And I knew you were lying about not liking jewelry.”

Ina laughed as she wrapped her arms around Aliyah’s waist, rubbing her back. “I couldn’t resist the look on your face,” she said, and then kissed Aliyah’s temple, “And I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

Aliyah perked up, tilting her head to look at Ina. “Forever?”

“And every moment after.”

…

CRASH!

Both women yelped at the sound of a cymbal being violently struck, scrambling to their feet. A pitter patter on the floor followed, and the door of Aliyah’s music room swung open.

“DID YOU GUYS HEAR THAT?! THAT’S THE MARRIAGE CYMBAL!” Leon said, pointing back into the music room, jumping on his feet, “I’M GONNA HIT IT EVERY TIME SOMEBODY GETS MARRIED!” Then he sobered for a moment, “Wait, you’re both getting married! I have to hit it two times.”

Aliyah laughed, burying her face in Ina’s shoulder as Leon ran back into the music room, and promptly hit the cymbal again. “No wonder we didn’t hear anything. He was eavesdropping the whole time,” she said.

Ina chuckled, “Of course he was.” She took Aliyah by the hips, leveling her gaze with hers, “So. Can I begin to preemptively call you Mrs. Kingsley?”

Aliyah’s face slowly broke into a grin. “You most certainly can.”

~end~

#ina kingsley #professor kingsley #ina x mc #queen b #aliyah diaz

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Beast Mode {One Shot}***

Florian Munteanu x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Warning: Cursing, NSFW AT ALL, SMUTTTTTY, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Summary: You’re in a relationship with Florian who has come to the end of his training period in prep for his long-anticipated and publicized match with “Elias “Cutthroat” Morales. The two of you haven’t seen each other in three months because of his trainer’s brutal training practices. You fly in a few hours before the match to wish him luck.

Note: I’ve said this before, I am terrified of this man but here we are. I don't know what that/this says about me but oh well. This was not asked for at all. SMH

**I have never written Florian, I have no idea about his mannerisms, body language or personality. I am writing this because I cannot stop thinking about it and it is driving me nuts. So, excuse me if this does not fit him exactly. I hope you enjoy the terrifying ride. As always, thank you for reading!!!!

**Image not my own

***Not Edited/proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What training would restrict visits from his girlfriend for three months? His trainer. No matter how much he’d protested, begged and bargained he was not budging.

“No visits until fight night. You need to stay objective and vicious.”

It was logical but he missed the hell out of you. FaceTime calls were not cutting it anymore, especially when he saw your posts on social media. As an influencer, it was your job to play everything up but from what you posted it looked like he was out of sight and out of mind. It didn’t help matters the comments he’d read under your pictures. They were all from thirsty dudes who loved using their internet fingers to make it seem like they were big and bad. Little did they know he was big and nasty. He’d easily break every bone in their body over you. There was no limit to his possessiveness.

“Focus!”

The drill Sergeant like sound of his trainer’s voice snapped him right back to reality. He zeroed in on his sparring partner and bobbed and weaved around the ring evading punches and firing them right back. He’d trained like a beast for the last six months. The last three he’d been pushed past the brink of sanity. He was now so ready for this match that all he saw was him standing victorious covered in his opponent’s blood. Was it vicious? Yeah. Did he care? Nope.

“Good. Yes! Don’t give him a chance to recover. Yes! Always in kill mode.”

He did one of his fancy moves spun behind his opponent then hammered his sides with everything he had. As they turned to him, he then delivered the final blow, a jaw crushing right hook. Everyone around him cheered and clapped. He ripped the gloves off his hands and checked on the guy he’d just knocked out. The doctors gave him a reassuring look to tell him he’d be fine. Taking their word for it he slipped out the ring and made it over to his trainer who had a pleased look on his face.

“Morales has no idea what’s in store for him. You’ve shaved off eighteen seconds off of your recovery time, added a full twelve minutes to your stamina, you’re faster than I’ve ever seen you and not to mention that mean in you is at the right level to blow. This match is yours.”

He felt it too. He felt like he was in the best physical shape of his life. He was focused and had his eye on the prize. The only thing missing was you.

“Hit the showers, get back to the hotel and I’ll send over the massage therapist to loosen up those muscles and have a good meal. Tomorrow you go from sixty-eight and ten to sixty-nine and ten!”

As he packed up his bag he nodded he liked the sound of that. Deciding to just grab a shower at the hotel he ducked into his waiting car and stretched out in the backseat. He was ready for a little break. At the thought of that, he thought of you. he took out his phone and found your contact to see your recent message from last night, a picture of yourself cuddled in the bed of the house you shared together. He could tell you weren’t wearing anything and every muscle in his body flexed aggressively.

“Push it away, focus,” he chanted to himself. It was a chant whenever he felt biology taking over. He was but a man.

MSG: I’m sorry I missed this last night. I had to be up for my last practice. Don’t be mad.

A few minutes passed before a response came in.

MSG Y/N: It’s okay. I get it, Big Nasty has to be aggressive, be be aggressive.

He snorted.

MSG: Really?

MSG Y/N: I’m your biggest cheerleader babe. I miss you.

Your words felt good to know. Usually, when he went into disappear training mode your relationship struggled. You wanted him around to share everyday things with, to be with but he wasn’t anywhere there. You said sometimes you felt like you were single and hated it but maybe you should go act like it too. It was the root of many arguments between the two of you, but neither of you ever let go.

MSG: I miss you so fucking much it’s insane.

MSG Y/N: How much?

MSG: I can’t even use words.

MSG Y/N: Then what would you use to show me?

Again, his muscles tensed and all he could think about was showing you how much he missed you. In seconds he was hard.

“Fuck!”

He resisted the urge to palm his length and tried to focus on his breathing.

MSG: Chill, babe. I’m already hard.

MSG Y/N: Really? Show me. Please. I haven’t seen a dick in months.

He could hear the whine in your words. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he did it anyway. Slipping his sweats a few inches lower he allowed his hardness to flop out. He was getting harder. He took a picture of himself and sent it to you.

MSG Y/N: Damn baby. It’s beautiful. I miss it so much.

MSG: He misses you.

A groan escaped him and showed him how close he was to losing himself. Slipping his meat back inside his sweats he sat up and worked to shrug off the arousal you’d brought on him.

MSG: When this is done let’s take a trip. Anywhere you wanna go.

MSG Y/N: Okay. Let’s do it.

You were always down to indulge his love of traveling. He worked hard and took a lot for the job and liked to unwind just as hard. As he approached the hotel he let you know his intentions for the night before ending your conversation.

When he made it up to his room he wasted no time getting in the shower and letting the hot water work magic on his muscles. You were still on his mind and made it even more difficult to get through without touching himself. He caught himself three times. The first he didn’t even realize it until he grunted out your name. He looked down to find his cock in his hand. The second time he caught himself before he gripped his length and the third he stopped the thought.

He didn’t know what the hell had come over him, but he had better find a way to get a grip especially this close to the match. His coach and trainer were both unanimously against any sort of pleasure while training and before a match. They didn’t care about the toll it took on his relationship, they cared about the end goal. He’d done this before and each time you were a trooper with accepting it, but this felt different. This time was harder for you, harder for him too.

When he got out of the shower his meal was waiting. He settled in front of the tv and watched videos of Elias Morales fight. This was his pre-match routine the biggest plate of pasta and studying his opponent. You didn’t have a record like his by just floating through matches. He was meticulous if nothing else, he trained, plotted, and prepared then executed.

An hour later he got a message letting him know his massage therapist would be there soon. Pausing the latest video, he stripped down and went over to the massage table and laid there waiting. As he waited he continued the video. He was so focused on it he didn’t hear when the masseuse entered. It was only when he saw her feet it registered.

“I think deep Swedish should work tonight,” he suggested. She didn’t answer. He was about to turn around when he felt the hot oil drip across his back. The next thing he felt were small hands begin their work of rubbing him down and kneading out knots.

Every night this week there had been a different masseuse, a different one he had to tell just what he liked. As he was about to open his mouth to let her know he liked some pressure along his spine but not at the tail of his spine she beat him to it by doing just that. A long moan slipped from him, it felt good. The masseuse continued her work and expertly kneaded his back muscles with the right amount of pressure and the right alternating techniques. It was like they knew just what he liked. Small hands went lower to his waist and gently massaged him there. The next place he felt her hands were his calves, she squeezed as her hands slid down to his ankles.

“God yes!” His body was quickly relaxing.

Thirty minutes more found him completely relaxed with muscles that didn’t hold an ounce of tension in them.

“Turn.” Not paying attention he flipped over to find a hot towel drop across his face.

“Breathe it in, eucalyptus, rose, lavender, coconut oil, and lemon. The right recipe for relaxation and optimal pore health.” He laid there and inhaled the aromas coming from the towel and found himself relaxing even more. This was almost just what he needed. It would have to do.

The same small hands began rubbing his chest down spending focus on his pec muscles before slowly gliding over his abs. This is where the hands slowed even more. There was no massage patterns to her movements now. When he began to move to take the towel off she moved her hands to his thighs and forcefully massages into them. It was enough to throw him off. Another twenty minutes passed before he heard a feminine moan in the air, a moan that did not belong to him. Quickly he ripped the towel off his face and sat up to see you standing beside him.

“Y/N?”

“Surprise!” Seconds passed before he pulled you into his arms and hugged you.

“Oh my god, what’re you doing here?”

“I missed you like really missed you. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow night. I needed to see you, baby.” He smiled and pulled her back into his arms. He felt the same way.

“I missed you too. Shit, this one was worse than all the others before,” he expressed as you pressed your forehead to his.

“It was. I hate this, but I love you so much.” Your lips met for a sweet peck, but one peck turned to two and three and before either of you knew it you were full-on making out. You moaned on his mouth and his hardness instantly returned with a vengeance. You bit his bottom lip and softly raked your nails up and down his back.

“Don’t do that babe, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If Hugo found you here he’d be so pissed.”

“I don’t care. I’ve followed every rule for two years. I’ve never protested. I’m protesting now. I want to see my man.” He smiled, he loved hearing you call him that. When you introduced him he always felt cocky when you called him your man. He didn’t know why.

“You’ve been a good girl,” he said as he stroked your hair down your back.

“I’ve been such a good girl, baby. What do I get as a reward?”

A smile spread across his face and every nasty thing flashed through his head.

“What do you want, love?”

You tipped your tongue out and licked across his lips then softly nibbled his bottom lip all while staring in his eyes.

“You. I want you, baby. I always want you—just you.”

He didn’t need to hear anything else. He crashed his lips to yours and took control of the kiss. He only intended for it to be a kiss, only intended for it to go so far. After a few minutes, he stood and lifted you into his arms. When you wrapped your legs around his waist his body made the decisions from then on. He turned and dropped you onto the massage table and quickly pulled off the dress you wore. He lost it when he realized you had on his favorite colored lace.

“Fuck!”

You spread your legs wider and bit your bottom lip. You were giving him access and permission. He couldn’t think, any possibility for logical thought was gone. He kissed you briefly then dropped his lips to your neck and sucked and teased the skin there. He knew you liked when he did it. You smelled incredible, a scent he hadn’t smelled in months, a scent that was making it impossible to control himself. His lips moved lower over your skin and latched onto your lace-clad breast. He sucked and bit your nipple through the material and enjoyed every mewl that fell from you.

When your hands hugged his head to you he sucked more forcefully.

“Yes baby. Oh god yes.”

He wrestled with the hooks of your bra and normally this would have been an easy task, but right now he didn’t have the patience it required. Gripping the material, he pulled it apart popping the clasps but freeing your breasts. He cupped them in his hands and feasted on each pert nipple for several long minutes. When he crouched between your legs he pulled your ass to the edge and stared at you.

“Don’t stop baby, please. Put your name on it.”

He growled out and grabbed a fistful of your underwear and ripped it clear off of you. Your moan of approval sent him over the edge of control. His lips connected with your sex and sucked. His intention was not to go slow, not to tease and not to waste any time. He needed this and he knew you did too. He slurped and devoured your flesh and relished in the unique taste of you. He’d missed your taste, missed the sounds you made when he did just what he knew would drive you crazy, missed how you reacted to him like a flame. At the root of it, he missed you. Your screamed signaled your orgasm. He was pleased you’d found your first release, but he had plans for many more.

He stood but before he could sheath himself you slipped off the massage table and to your knees. You pulled the towel from around his waist and came eye to eye with what you wanted. The look on your face spoke of how ravenous you were. You lowered your mouth over his length and took him fully into your mouth as far as he could go. He growled out again and held your head in place. His hips moved thrusting in and out of your mouth slowly at first but when goosebumps broke out across his skin he sped up. soon you were gagging and slurping with every snap of his hips. You were always good at swallowing every inch of him. Before he lost it he pulled you up and threw you over the table with your ass poking out to him.

They say the first touch is the sweetest but for him, the first feel of you around him was almost too much for him. He hovered over your back and letting the shake go through him. With each inch he slipped inside of you, you clenched around him. With a few more inches to go, he slammed into you making you scream out.

“Fuck Flo!” Your body shook through its second release. He was just getting started.

From the start he set the only pace he could, the only pace his body could tolerate—fast. He slammed into you with bruising thrusts that had purpose. He had to remind you who was daddy, and who truly owned this pussy.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so fucking tight. Yes! This pussy missed daddy?” You nodded but he wanted to hear the words.

“Tell me. Did my pussy miss me?”

“Fuck, yes, it missed you, daddy. It missed you so much.” He pushed your head lower with one hand and gripped your hip with the other then jackhammered into you. your screams were loud, but soon they turned raspy and desperate. You were always the only one that could take all of him. The only one who came close to crippling him with pleasure.

He grabbed your thighs and twisted you around, so you laid on your back with your thighs spread wide. God, he loved this view. He pulled out and sucked on your clit for a few moments before he tasted you as you came right in his mouth. You wrapped your thighs around his head and rode the wave of your third orgasm. When he tried to untangle himself, you weren’t having it. He almost laughed, you wanted to get rough. Forcefully he obliged, pulling your legs open, pressing them back to the table. He lined up his throbbing cock with your core and locked eyes with you. From the look in your eyes, he knew you knew what he intended to do.

“Whose pussy is this Y/N?”

“Yours baby.”

“Whose?”

“Yours daddy. Fuck this pussy—own this pussy.”

He snapped his hips forward and connected your bodies to the hilt. He could feel every inch of you inside and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head you loved it. From the pace and force of his thrusts, the massage table shook as if it were on its last legs. He didn’t care. He was voracious.

“This pussy is mine, mine, mine, mine!” his only focus was finding that release, he knew he’d taken care of you. Changing the angle, he held you, he turned you to your side and held your leg in the air but continued plowing into you.

He wanted to come so bad, but he couldn’t. It was something he’d experienced before. He was so backed up that physically and psychologically he wasn’t in sync. It was normal for training and competing and normal for the first few weeks after. He held tightly to you and held you in the air and continued pumping into you.

“Shit, shit!”

“How does this dick feel baby?”

“So fucking good.”

You kissed him and began bouncing on him using his body as the anchor. He groaned and leaned against whatever he found close by and allowed you to fuck him. His moans and grunts fell from him one after the other and he didn’t care if you knew just what you were doing to him. It was never a secret. After a few minutes, he rose his hips up meeting you halfway.

“Oh my god! I’m gonna come, baby, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!” He loved hearing those words. Using both hands he held you still and plowed into you and chased the release he’d denied himself for six months. The closer he got the louder he was, the louder he was the harder he fucked you. It was all a chain reaction that fueled and fed you both.

In a matter of minutes, he was having tunnel vision and knew he was close. He turned and pressed you against what he thought was a wall but was really one of the floor to ceiling windows. He didn’t care enough to stop. You helped him and rode onto him as he thrusted. It didn’t take long before you came again and pulled his long overdue orgasm from him. He shouted loudly as he came and filled you up with every last drop of the love he’d been saving for you.

A few minutes later when you both had come down a little from your release, he realized though he’d come he was still rock hard. He needed more. When you realized it, your eyes filled with excitement and a hint of tease.

“Can you take what you’ve unleashed?”

“I can take this dick anytime, anywhere, for however long daddy.” His smile was wide. He didn’t expect anything less from you.

“You’re daddy’s nasty girl. Let’s see if you remember how nasty daddy likes it.”

“Beast mode daddy?”

“Make sure you can take it.” You didn’t answer, instead, you kissed him and clenched around him giving the only answer he needed. It was going to be a long night.

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daisybeewrites · 3 years

Text

The Best Medecine

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluffflufffluff

requested? no i just needed to see daisy take care of daniel

ship: dousy/daniel sousa x daisy johnson

PART 2!! idr have an authors note today, just enjoy :)

(gif not mine)

Daniel felt like crap.

He had caught Daisy’s cold, and the effects were hitting him harder than a ton of bricks.

Daisy had recovered fairly quickly after he smoothly convinced her to take the proper medicine and rest. They had a great few days where both of them felt alive and normal, not like zombie versions of themselves. Going grocery shopping (avoiding the soup aisle, they already had a freezer full), taking a day trip to hike the Eaton Canyon trail and picnic, testing out a new prosthetic Fitz designed, and pulling an all-nighter to binge-watch Grey’s Anatomy completed the week wonderfully.

Things were going great! Almost too great. Things never go this great in their universe. Which is why neither of them were surprised when Daniel shot up in bed at 4am sneezing, waking Daisy and, she joked, the rest of the street. He tried to go back to sleep, only to wake up with a loud achoo! ten minutes later. Daniel rubbed his forehead, the pressure centered between his eyebrows insisting that he was not going to get any sort of true rest that day.

He told a sleepy Daisy that he felt fine, that he just needed a hot bath. It was probably just the spring allergies, right? Nothing to worry about, Daniel told himself as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, grabbing his crutches and lumbering to the bathroom. He splashed his face with warm then cold water before quickly checking that Daisy was asleep again, her silhouette rising with deep breaths, outlined in diffused blue light from the stars on the ceiling. Maybe he could shake this before it got too bad? Surely, it wouldn’t disrupt his routine too much?

Daniel quietly crutched to the soft couch, grabbing a blanket from the pile on the armchair. The flannel of the blankets and the comfortable give of the couch lulled Daniel into a restless sleep.

Early morning turned to late morning turned to afternoon, Daniel only waking up from tossing and turning when Daisy shook him and offered a sinus pill, which he gulped down with an entire cup of cool water. Three ice cubes shaped like half moons knocked into each other as he tipped the cup back, letting the smooth liquid drown out the scratchiness in his throat.

A glance at the clock alarmed him, mentally calculating how long he slept. He noticed the second quilt that had been laid on top of him, the fleecy textile one Daisy frequently curled up with when she had a bad day. He could faintly smell her coconut and lavender conditioner. It tickled his nose.

“Sweetheart?” Daniel called weakly.

“Mmm?” Daisy hummed.

“I slept for fourteen hours?” Though he asked a question, his tone was almost a statement.

Daisy nodded, slightly smiling. “I think you caught my cold. Maybe cuddling so much wasn’t a good idea.”

Daniel chuckled a little, but stopped when he saw the flicker of worry in her eyes. He reached over to her and grabbed her hand. “I don’t regret any time spent helping you feel better, Daisy.”

She smiled, mirroring his expression. Their eyes both crinkled at the sides, happy gazes taking in the other. Daisy’s eyes still furrowed though, and Daniel cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the frog there before speaking. The action only scratched his throat, a string of coughs interrupting the couple’s staring contest.

“Hey, could you bring me som—” Daniel was cut off by more crackling coughs. Daisy threw him a concerned glance. He could hardly keep his eyes open, hands clammy and forehead burning, body shaking with hacks. He could feel the dip in the cushion as Daisy moved to sit down beside him, resting her hand on his forehead. Her cool skin felt incredible on his. He understood why she liked it so much when he had done the same.

He slowly opened his eyes, ignoring the dry, itchy feeling and opting to focus on Daisy above him. She looked beautiful, like an angel, with airy morning light surrounding her and two messy braids running down her back. She was his angel. His angel was smirking at the way he leaned into her touch.

“These?” she asked, as she held up a small, blue box of tissues. He nodded, swallowing thickly before sitting up and scooting back to lean against the rounded arm of the tan couch. Daisy laughed quietly.

“What?”

She continued giggling, her small laugh growing a little.

“What’s funny?”

Daisy leaned forward and rested a hand on his thigh for balance.

“You’re wearing those pajama pants I got you for Christmas,” she explained. He glanced down, recognizing the tiny planets of their solar system dyed into the plush fabric. “They’re cute on you.”

He smiled, gazing at Daisy. Then he sneezed. Luckily, he picked up a tissue and covered his face in time to not sneeze in Daisy’s face. Daisy leaned back, laughing. Daniel started to, too, a low rumble in his chest diffusing the nerves he had felt. This was the first time Daisy had ever seen him sick. There was that one time in space when he had almost gotten (unintentionally) poisoned by alien coffee, but that was an unpleasant memory he didn’t want to dwell on. Other than that, not a single sniffle had popped up.

Daisy suddenly stood up and slid to the kitchen in sock feet, a large grin on her face.

“Dais, where’re you going?” he wondered out loud.

“The kitchen, duh,” she replied as she slid to the soapstone countertops, grabbing a red and white box out of the counter.

Daniel recognized it as Daisy’s favourite tea, she had bought it on a mission in South Africa and became enamoured with it. Sometimes Daniel would catch her up at odd hours of the night, when she couldn’t sleep, out on the back patio drinking a steaming mug of Rooibos. He knew it was her favourite, and it had slowly become his, too. Lately, they have made a habit out of winding down from long days at work with mugs in their hands, on the couch or in the backyard, red-amber liquid relaxing their minds and limbs. Those were some of his favourite times with Daisy, spent talking and drinking their tea and laughing at reruns of sitcoms.

The sound of hot water trickling into a mug pulled him out of his thoughts. The mug in question was one he had made for Daisy—large and hand painted, artsy flicks of white and yellow and blue serving as reminders of their time in space. That was a modern invention he was particularly fond of (paint your own pottery, not space). It was mesmerizing to watch the colored, chalky paint glide onto the ceramic surface. He often went to this local hole-in-the-wall café that let you paint one of their mugs and bring it home, for an extra charge. Their coffee and ‘old-fashioned southern’ biscuits were delicious.

Daniel stared as Daisy danced around the kitchen, her fishtails swishing and hips swaying. There was no music, just her. She dunked the tea bag in a couple times and let it steep. When the tea was ready, she poured in a squeeze of honey and grabbed a shiny green bottle of cough syrup, carefully walking over to the couch. Daniel gently took the mug from her, using the corner of the blanket as a barrier so as not to burn his hands. Daisy sat on the coffee table across from him, smiling as Daniel took a sip.

“Hot!” he exclaimed.

“I know I am, you don’t have to tell me,” Daisy teased. “Do you want some ice cubes?”

“Jemma would disapprove,” Daniel shot back.

Daisy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jemma has put up with my odd tea-drinking since 2013. I already made the tea wrong, might as well make it so that you won’t burn yourself trying to drink it.”

Daniel watched Daisy laugh. As ill as he felt, Daisy just being there helped tremendously. The tea soothed his scratchy throat and her laugh sped up his heart. He knew the pink dust on his cheeks couldn’t be attributed to fever alone.

The pair sat in silence for a while as Daniel finished the tea, thankful for the warm beverage. His headache was slightly dissipating, due to the tea or Daisy’s light aura he wasn’t sure. He sat the mug down on the table and leaned up to peck Daisy’s lips. She leaned in a bit putting her hand on his chest to pull away.

“How about that bath?”

“Only if you come, too,” Daniel whispered.

Daisy chuckled. “You, lover boy, are sick. If we keep this up, one of us is always going to be sick. And plus, I need you distracted while I make a surprise!”

Daniel perked up, his slight pout disappearing. “A surprise…?”

“Yes, Danny-boy, a surprise. Which means I can’t tell you, so sit here and I’ll go fill the tub and then you can feel the full effects of that chill pill.”

Daniel leaned towards Daisy, confused. “What chill pill?”

“This chill pill,” Daisy said, leaning forward until her nose almost touched his. Daniel’s head swam with the scent of her silky blonde hair and vanilla lotion. She gently rubbed her hands up and down his arms and over his shoulders. He took a moment to watch the twinkle in her eye, the warmth resonating through him. He felt the tension from staying on the couch all day slowly release, his arms coming to wrap loosely around Daisy’s back in an attempt to keep her there. She shook her head with a grin and sat up, easing off the couch.

Daisy kissed Daniel’s forehead before walking down the hall to the bathroom. Daniel watched her leave, conflicted. Shouldn’t he be able to take care of himself? He had for years, why stop now? It isn’t like he couldn’t fill up the tub, or cook or grab tissues, no matter how light headed he got. Why did she want to help him? ‘Because I love you, you stubborn square!’ Daisy would say. He could practically hear her protest, ‘Just let me take care of you! It won’t hurt!’

If he was honest with himself, that’s all he wanted.

So, he did.

Daisy came back into the living room, the faint sound of water rushing creating a comforting ambience. He didn’t have his leg on, as laying around all day didn’t require it and he was more comfortable without the prosthetic cramming against the back of the couch. He reached back and grabbed the pair of crutches that were leaned against the arm of the sofa. Daisy walked with him back to the bathroom, making sure he didn’t lose his balance due to dizziness from dehydration. Apparently, that was one reason Daisy had felt so horrible after her mission, she had been so busy taking down bad guys that she almost took herself down, too. Even knowing that dehydration isn’t contagious, neither of them wanted him falling into décor à la Daisy.

They reached the bathroom, Daisy running to their room to grab an extra set of sweats for Daniel to put on once he was done.

While she was rummaging through drawers, Daniel carefully undressed and got into the deep tub.

The bath felt incredible. He could smell the lavender from the fancy epsom salt that Daisy had gotten him wafting up from small waves he created. The water was warm, but not so hot that it burned and not so lukewarm that it would go cold in a few minutes.

“Dais, this is first-class,” Daniel called.

Daisy giggled a bit before responding. “First-class?”

“I know you’re poking fun, but thank you. It feels amazing.”

Daisy peeked her head around the corner, nodding.

“I'm glad you like it. Now I'm gonna go fix that surprise. Yell if you need anything, k?”

Daniel nodded and relaxed his head back, muscles slowly easing their tension and his eyes softly closing.

“Oh, shit!!”

Daniel startled, bath water dripping over onto the towels lining the tub. Daisy’s exclamation didn’t seem pained, but he couldn’t help his brow from creasing. He felt fairly rested, he wasn’t sure how long he had been napping in the water. It had gone from pleasantly warm to tepid, he guessed around thirty minutes at the most.

“Dais, everything alright?”

Daisy paused before responding, “Yep! Got it all under control!”

Daniel smiled and shook his head, figuring it was probably time to get out and troop back to the living room, anyway.

He grabbed the grip-bar beside the tub and eased up, sitting on the edge before swinging his good leg around and stepping onto the floor. He grabbed a towel off his hook on the wall and started to dry off. Daisy had set a pair of comfy pants and a shirt on the counter, which he pulled on before grabbing his crutches and making his way to the kitchen. Something smelled… burnt.

He rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks.

“Uh, Dais?”

“It’s burned, I know,” Daisy said, disconcertedly.

“Are you okay?”

Daisy was staring disappointedly at two bowls of seemingly okay soup. She gestured loosely to the sink, Daniel’s eye following.

“Oh, okay, yeah, I see.”

There was a large pot sitting in the sink, filled with greyish water, black bits glued to the bottom.

“I’m sorry. I know cooking isn’t exactly my thing.”

Sousa smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. Daisy’s hands fidgeted, rubbing at her neck.

“Is the soup in the bowls good?”

Daisy looked him up and down, a twinkle of mirth in her eye, like she knew something he didn’t. She shrugged, “The char adds flavour.”

At that, Daniel grinned and stepped forward a little, leaning against the counter next to her. “I’m up for some extra flavour.”

Daisy looked over at him with an odd expression. “Even sick, never fails.”

Daniel responded immediately, “Through sickness and health.”

Daisy’s eyes went wide.

“Relax, I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Daisy’s posture slumped a little as she hit his bicep. “Funny. You’re a funny, funny man.”

He nodded and felt a deep laugh in his chest. “I am very funny, yes.”

Daisy squinted her eyes at him, turning and picking up their bowls of soup to set on the kitchen island. She slid onto one of the backless bar stools that served as seats for when she didn’t feel like being fancy and eating at a table. Sousa took a moment before following, leaning his crutches against the cabinet after sliding onto the stool across from Daisy. He picked up a spoon and tasted the soup, swallowing down a grimace and giving her a thumbs up.

“It's great!” Daniel exclaimed.

Daisy pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at him, tasting a spoonful. She was not as great at acting as Daniel was, and could barely keep herself from spitting it out.

“Oh, god, that’s awful!” Despite her wry expression, she was giggling as she picked her cell out of her pajama short’s pocket. Daniel eyed her, perplexed as Daisy hit a button in her .

“Yes, hi... Thank you. Can we get six egg rolls, a small veggie fried rice, a plate of crab wontons, and a small shrimp lo-mein?... Yes! Thank you!... Alright, we’ll be there in ten. Have a good evening!” Daniel watched as Daisy hung up, a bright grin slowly spreading across her face.

Daniel mirrored her, smiling wide. “Chinese food?”

“Yep,” Daisy nodded, popping the 'p'.

Daisy slid lithely off the seat, grabbing the bowls of blackened soup and trashing them. She felt bad, throwing away food. She never got rid of food unless she absolutely had to. Old habits die hard.

She turned around and gave Daniel a smile. She noticed that he wasn’t as pale, his face wasn’t as flushed and he wasn’t swaying like his head was full of air. Maybe she had helped more than she thought. They walked out to Daisy’s car, a metallic dark grey crossover with slightly tinted windows. Daisy got in on the drivers side, Daniel climbing into the passenger. She cranked the car and turned up the radio, checking that Daniel was okay. It was a slightly chilly evening, and the windows were rolled down just enough to let the air in.

The evening felt great, the cool air and orange-pink sky refreshing their senses. Daniel’s eyes were soft as he gazed at Daisy. Even though he caught her cold, he had the feeling that Daisy was the best medicine. Lucky him.

Maybe things do go this great in our universe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

awwwwwww, cuuuuuuute! as always, feel free to drop a request in my ask box (linked in the bio) or comment any thoughts!! thanks for reading!!

#dousy #sickfic #daisy johnson x daniel sousa #major fluff #daisysous #quakersquares #timequake #fanfic #post-canon #ashby writes #danny-boy #jemma simmons #agents of shield #aos

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