#in my head they got a lot of dull greys and blues | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thisthatpinkvenom · 1 year

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IT'S SWEATPANTS SEASON, OH MY!

JOCK!SAN / BAND GEEK!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Autumn has arrived; the season of pumpkin spice lattes, corn and—unfortunately for you—grey sweatpants. those pesky little things have attached themselves to your boyfriend's legs like glue, and you're having a hard time keeping your mind out of the gutter.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, fluff, humor(??), smut, smut, smut

⤏ Content: jock!San, band geek!fem reader (I know, I'm so original), you're referred to as "sweet potato" once—don't ask, just go with it, established relationship!au, college!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): dry humping, unprotected piv (it's fiction, guysss. use your rubbers and stay safe!), creampie, just lots of build up because I'm down bad for a man in grey sweatpants 🙈

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

The mosaic of orange and yellow was striking below the dull blue clouds as the trees continued to shed their leaves. Your eyes swayed with the leaf you'd been watching descend its way patiently to the ground while you sat on the bench, shoulders jittering in the midst of the decreasing temperature. Your hands peeked out from the ends of your sleeves before rubbing together, the crisp morning air making your fingers tingle in the cold. You should've worn a thicker jacket, is what you mulled over in your head that you hadn't even noticed San until he enveloped his own padded jacket over you. The gust of warmth awoke you from your reverie and you hummed, meeting eyes with him when he lowered himself into a squat.

"You didn't have to come here," he said, a dimple indenting his cheek as he curled one corner of his mouth upward. After pulling the hood over your head, he tenderly brushed his thumb across your cheek. "I know you're not a morning person."

You struggled to fight a yawn until you decidedly gave in, white fog manifesting in your breath.

"I want to support you," you murmured. You were too busy blinking away your fatigue to notice how he looked on in nothing but fondness. Your conscience warped your thoughts when you scanned over the jacket engulfing your frame, your lips forming into a small pout. "Mm…aren't you going to be cold?"

San took a glance at his attire; he's only got a windbreaker left to keep him warm. Nonetheless, he shook his head and insisted he was used to practicing like this on the field. Despite wearing less than you and the flushed red on his nose and cheeks, you couldn't really tell if he felt the effect of the weather as much as you did. You couldn't fathom how he had the motivation to get up at the ass crack of dawn to run around with a ball, doing drills with his teammates while Coach Kim rapid-fired pointer after pointer without a stop to catch his breath. It truly was admirable how smiley he was at 7:00 a.m. without consuming any caffeine.

Coach Kim sauntered along the grass before he blew his whistle and commanded the team to group together. Your boyfriend looked over his shoulder before turning back to you, eyes squinting as the sun's orange glow began to blanket over the field.

"Well, gotta start soon," he observed. "Stay warm and if you're sleepy, just go back. I'm happy you're here but don't force yourself to stay. All right, Sweet Potato?"

You made a small noise of confirmation, unfazed by the odd affectionate nickname you had gotten used to over time. The heat of his palms skimmed over your ears as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before standing tall. But what you didn't anticipate—whoa—had really slapped you awake right then and there. For the mere five seconds you'd managed to capture a mental image, time felt as if it'd been stretched to hell when your boyfriend's crotch had leveled with your eyes. You hadn't realized the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and now that you've gotten a face full of…that, you're acutely aware.

You're shook to the core.

Your gaze trailed after his jogging figure, following the path up his long and toned legs to his cute little bu—okay, whoa! It's only 7:15 in the morning. You had no business indulging in these thoughts right now. Get it together.

Oh, he's facing your general direction now.

Are you staring at it too much? It's starting to feel a little warm, all of a sudden; it's the jacket, isn't it? Just how long is this going to take?

You're trapped on this bench. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since practice started and Coach Kim was rambling on about the importance of warming up while you're glued to your seat, pathetically staring at your boyfriend's dickprint while he seemingly had no idea. God, you felt like a perv. Even though he assured you that it was okay, you didn't want to just up and leave. This was a relationship built on give and take, and there were one too many times when he watched your concerts while knowing little to nothing about orchestral music.

You'll just suffer, then.

"Just fuck him."

"Lisa!" you chided, pushing three fingers against your friend's arm as she rolled her eyes.

"What?" She swirled her tongue around the glob of chocolate ice cream sitting on top of her waffle cone. "He's a hot, charming guy. Your own boyfriend makes you horny and that's supposed to be a problem now?"

"Oh, my gosh, I just…" you trailed off, eyes searching elsewhere for your thoughts. "I'm not used to being all"—you waved your hands disorientedly in front of you—"dirty…minded. He's the one who usually initiates it."

"Sex?"

"Everything physical, really," you clarified. "I just feel like if I start it, it's just going to be off—and awkward."

You sighed. "How am I going to get through this season?"

"Oh, yeah, the sweatpants; that's what's been making you a sex freak," Lisa recalled with an airy laugh. "Those things are like lingerie for guys. Especially the grey ones…oomf. 'Dicktoria's Secret' is real," she snorted.

You gave her a blank stare.

"Look, just be honest," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world—which it was. "You really think any guy is gonna find it offensive that his girl's drooling over his bulge?"

"I wasn't drooling—"

"You will be."

"Oh, my gosh."

You weren't aware that having a footballer-boyfriend automatically signed you up for three months' worth of almost nothing but sweatpants. You also didn't know how many he had stashed in his wardrobe until now—it's good to know he didn't wear the same pair everyday. But this meant he had enough pairs to flaunt his dick outline in your face whenever you were together.

Not good for your cavewoman brain.

Fingers danced along your neck and you squirmed at the intrusion, meeting eyes with San's own with your face sporting a frown. The same fingers belonged to the arm lazing comfortably around your shoulders, both of you having snuggled together into mush on his couch while you binge-watched one of your favorite shows. You whined his name in annoyance when you're kicked out of your thoughts.

He chortled. "Sorry, I just—it's Buffy and you don't even seem that into it. Is everything okay?"

Let's see: it's a Friday night. His roommate, Mingi went to visit his parents for the weekend and you're all alone with your hot, charming boyfriend™ who's clearly gone commando under his sweats. And you're supposed to be watching Buffy slay vampires…how?

"Y-Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" you stammered.

He hummed in feigned ponder, and the knowing smirk surging its way onto his lips would've sent a churn in your belly if you'd actually caught sight of it.

"You know that my eyes are up here, right?"

Your eyes snapped up in panic, and silence was the only response you had sitting on your tongue. You wanted to hide in a cave, where you could wallow in embarrassment without disturbance. Your own boyfriend had just caught you ogling his crotch like a perv.

San tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a smile at how you resembled a deer in headlights. "You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Your mouth was stuck in a battle between opening and closing as you desperately searched for the right words. With a defeated sigh, your face fell into the safety of your palms.

"This is so embarrassing," you groaned, words muffled against your hands.

"Hey," he laughed softly, grabbing your wrists in an attempt to retract your hands away from your face. "It's not a big deal"—you sighed when the light from the standing lamp washed into your eyes—"it's cute."

You gave him a funny look. "Cute," you stated, doubt laced in your tone.

"Yeah. Usually, I'm the one doing all the staring."

He scanned you up and down with a pondering pout on his lips, continuing on to ask, "It's the sweatpants, isn't it?"

"Do you have to state the obvious?" you whined.

"What? I just wanna make things clear, so I know what to wear for you," he teased. He shifted closer and smoothed a hand up your thigh. "I'll wear more for you."

If he felt the goosebumps on your skin, he didn't comment on them.

"You say it like it's lingerie," you quipped, recalling what Lisa said a few days ago. You're saying anything to distract yourself right now, but you crumbled easily whenever he touched you. And he knew it well, especially when his hand moved dangerously close to your pyjama shorts. You're not even sure if you were breathing.

"If it's gotten you like this, then I'd say it pretty much is."

He moved on to say, "I like it when you look at me like that."

Your expression was frozen. "Like what?"

San's eyes changed ever so slightly, his hand finally slipping between your squeezed thighs.

"Like you really want me."

Your thighs parted for him. "I…I do," you murmured.

"Oh, really? Where do you want me?"

"Where else?"

"I asked you first."

You made a quiet huff from your nose, looking down at his hand that's aching to pull your shorts down. "Inside"—you hesitated—"inside me. I-I would like it if we had sex…please?"

His lustful gaze turned softer, eyebrows raised high at your interesting way of words. While you, on the other hand, visibly grimaced. San found your eyes shutting tight and your nose scrunching up all too adorable, and without a doubt, he would've bitten your cheeks if he could.

With a chuffed smile, he hooked his fingers at the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, waiting for you to lift your hips. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's have the sex now."

You sulked at his incessant teasing, knowing well enough that he was purposefully expressing his words awkwardly. He laughed and assured you he would stop there, before grabbing your now half-naked body by the hips and having you straddle him. His fleece sweatpants were rough from the continuous use, giving you some nice sense of friction on your sensitive nub.

But above all that, you could feel the presence of his cock hiding beneath his pants, your pussy lips spreading the slightest on his erection. Your breath hitched as his hands made their way under your sweater, then your shirt; reposed comfortably at your hips as if they made home there. The pads of his fingers kneaded your skin as he looked up at you with expectant eyes.

"C'mon, get yourself off for me."

You waited with bated breath for nothing in particular—you'd just been momentarily distracted by his intense stare. Nodding too many times in the span of a second, you began to move your hips under the guide of his hands.

"Oh…"

There was a minor ache in your hips when he dug his fingers deeper in your skin, but you were too focused on the soft chafing of the fabric against your clit. It was getting you in the right place; so rough.

"Are you doing okay, Baby?"

You released an unstable sigh. "Y-Yeah."

He eyed the way your skin slightly folded with every move you made on his clothed cock, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Your motions grew faster and more impatient as you yearned for his mouth against yours, falling forward before your lips touched his.

He pushed you down each time he pulled you forward, earning growingly unsteady breaths from you into his mouth. You nearly choked when he bucked his hips upward, soft moans having no chance to escape when each were engulfed by his lips. You continued to do nothing but mindlessly grind your clit on him, humping his clothed cock like you were in desperate heat.

You didn't have the mind to warn him at this moment, unable to hear anything but your own moans until you were reaching your impending climax. And soon with trembling thighs, you came. Your skin grew rampant with shivers while your mind went elsewhere for the bite of a second.

San finally spared some mercy, separating from you with a thin string of spit connecting your lips before he's splitting it with a lick from his tongue. Stealing a glance at the dark spot you left on his pants, he served you a lustful, lopsided smile.

"This is what you'll get if you're just a little more honest with me," he chuckled.

Your ears grew hot at the sight of your arousal leaving its mark, adjusting yourself with your hands on the backrest behind him. You waited a few beats to gather your words before you muttered, "Well…can I be honest with you right now?"

"Of course."

San waited with patient eyes, his stare nearly melting you into goo while he thumbed your skin again.

"I'd like to have the sex—with your penis inside me…please."

He didn't try at all to suppress amusement at how you'd poked fun at yourself, hearty laughter producing from the pit of his belly. The dimples in his cheeks emerged from hiding as he grinned and nodded while pushing his waistband down, just enough for his cock to free itself. When his laughter had settled, he pressed a peck on the tip of your nose.

"Whenever you're ready."

You grabbed the base of his cock and pressed the tip against your entrance, pausing for a moment until you began to slowly but surely, sink entirely down his length. The stretch always started as an odd pressure between your walls, but once they'd completely swallowed his dick whole, it always left you wanting more. It's a feeling you don't think you could ever give justice to, if you were ever asked to describe it. He was just so right for you.

Your body gave into him as he pulled you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist like a tightened belt. His hushed groans were made only for you, and hearing them continuously by your ear sent shivers down your spine.

"So warm," he muttered under his breath. He slid his bum further down the couch with you in his grasp and spread his legs wider. And when he was sure of the angle, he rolled his hips to meet yours, finding a steady pace with the most agonizingly unyielding thrusts. With every slam of his hips, your moans rendered into off-key whimpers as you melted under his guidance.

It felt like you were experiencing the hottest temperatures of the summer; your cheeks were burning and at moments, you felt like pushing away just from the sheer heat of your bodies entangled together.

A cuss left your boyfriend's lips when you gnawed on his shoulder, the salty tang of sweat grazing your tongue. And as if he wasn't holding onto you tightly already, he pulled you even closer as his cock rammed relentlessly, his rhythm growing sloppy when he began reaching his peak.

Your back felt like it'd been bent beyond repair as his cum coated your walls, the familiar twitching of his cock presented inside you. But he didn't stop there, he wouldn't until you came as well. And with his jaw clenched, he fucked into you like you were his toy, white rings of his own orgasm spilling with every move and making way to stain his pants.

"C'mon, Baby," he grunted. "Cum, f-fuck—cum, fucking c-cum…"

And in a few more thrusts, all you saw were specks of white among darkness. Your pussy spared no consideration on his sensitive cock and clenched as you trembled, the string of swears leaving his lips going deaf on your ears. Your limbs fell limp to pure exhaustion, despite how much you wanted to just wrap them around him like you were a koala and he was the tree. You wanted to mark your kisses all over his face but not even your lips were functioning right now as you barely managed to muster out a "thank you".

It was clear that it took a moment for San to register what you'd said, before he let out a breathy laugh. Not because he found something funny, it was just one of those laughs you got when you felt so euphoric—like getting your balls drained until you were a moaning mess; that kind of euphoric.

He kissed the top of your head, looking ahead at the TV where Buffy was still slaying vampires as usual. His dick stayed inside you, soft and relaxed in your warmth, neither of you in any rush to clean up.

"Mm…remind me to buy more of these sweats."

#ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #choi san smut #ateez san smut #san smut #kpop smut

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spacesurfing · 2 years

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Dexthtoyounglings' Ghoul Guide!!

I posted this because I haven't posted in a while an I want to put this here for references for the Ghouls' appearances and habits. This will be edited through time.

This is my own opinion!! Not canon. Just putting this in here before someone tells me one of these is incorrect!!

•--•

Dewdrop

Long, dirty blonde hair

Yellow eyes

The air around him get warmer when he is mad or excited. The air won't get necessarily cold when he is sad, but all his body heat seems to disappear into nothing unless you are you close enough you could be under his skin.

Spaded tail

Scars all over his body and a chunk taken out the top lobe of his left ear

Short horns, like the ones on the masks but blends with his charcoal skin fully

Smells like cinnamon and wood smoke

Rain

Black hair, fluffy and the same length as with human glamor but when he's upset in any ways, it starts to like actually dampen. Depending on how mad he is equals how wet his hair is

Blue eyes

His tail has scales on the spade of it, like a mermaid's tail

Tends to stay near water like a lot because it calms him. When he is away from water for a long time, he gets anxious. Always get the hotel room with a bath while on tour

Also has short horns like Dewy's except his aren't smooth, they have ridges to them and fade to a soft white at the very tip

Smells like dewy mornings and thunderstorms

Aether

Midlength, light brown hair, usually has the top half tied back and the bottom hairs are out cause he's stylish like that

Purple eyes cause he's cool like that

Spaded tail

He's generally very calm because he's an air ghoul so he doesn't get upset often, but when he is, the air near him seems like it's moving and things will fly off shelves and move near him (but he will be very careful with fragile objects, he hates getting in trouble by Papa or Sister Imperator)

Speaking of objects flying, he does have telekinesis. So, yeah.

Thick boy with thick horns! He's got bison horns, just not as pointy or long

Smells like fresh flowers

Mountain

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HEADCANONING MOUNTAIN

Short combed back brown hair, like look that up and that's exactly what he has. Very soft

This boy has green eyes, but the more calm he is, the deeper the green. When excited or angry they are bright neon green

Speaking of angry - when he, in the off chance, does get angry, you can feel a slight shake in the ground you're standing on if you focus hard enough

Spaded tail

Those curled sheep horns and they fade into a light grey, but not too light!

Smells like pinewood and new books

Swiss

Curly brown hair - short pretty curls but a deep brown and he has stubble for a mustache and beard (basically like his human glamor)

Purple eyes

Shaded tail

Usually very playful and upbeat so he hardly gets upset, but he gets really overwhelmed when he's upset, like hide away because he's overwhelmed type of way

Short horns like Dewy's but duller

Smells like leather

Sunshine

Short brown hair, very floof and curl

Yellow eyesss

Spaded tail, but hers is curved more at the tip

We don't really know her element - but c'mon - Sunshine?? I headcanon her as a fireghoul

She is very very warm and has the same thing as Dewdrop with cooling to nothing when sad and the air and her gets very hot when excited or mad

She's a calm sweetheart though, but she is a victim to her own element at time and gets angry every once in a while

Short horns but dull and has ridges

Smells like Sunflowers (you had that coming) and honey

Cirrus

Blue eyes

Wavy, silver hair that reaches the nape of her neck

Spaded tail

Actually very short-tempered for an air elemental but she has learned to control herself when getting upset - doesn't launch things like Aether

She has horns like a springbok, but maybe half the size (the photos I'm referencing have long horns, so think of shorter ones)

Smells like pumpkin pie and whipped cream; I don't know why but she does in my head

Cumulus

Very long, wavy hair, a dark grey color and to her hips

She has purple eyes

Never gets upset, the most you can milk is jealousy or sadness

There have been few accounts of her being angry, and it is always for the best reason, and she gets fucking mad. Like not launching marble statues but she is like a mini moving tornado and has to go outside cause she doesn't even have the control to not break shit

She has the curled sheep horns like mountain, hers fade to a light grey

Smells like raspberries and pancakes

•--•

Masterlist

#the band ghost #ghost band #dewdrop ghoul #sodomizer ghoul #sodo ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss army ghoul #sunshine ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette

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ruscifus · 1 year

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I saw this anon ask and had to write my own little thing for it…

Warning: slow burn.

- - - - -

> you entered the penitentiary on your own

> you’d lost a lot of friends in the past few weeks

> some had lost their games, others had simply let their visas run out

> your visa was close to expiring too

> but you had just a little bit of fight left in you

> so why not just give the games one last shot; you’re dead either way, so you might as well try

> the collar felt ice cold on your neck as it clicked closed

> your footsteps echoed through the empty hall as you made your way further into the prison, only accompanied by the dull thudding of your own heart in your ears

> you finally enter a large, circular room

> despite there being quite a number of people there, it was unnervingly silent

> nobody really spoke to one another

> you did a quick sweep of the other players

> most of whom just looked nervous

> you also noted that a handful looked indifferent

> you saw a flash of grey hair, and locked eyes with a boy in the white hoodie

> he immediately looked away, and you swallowed the lump in your throat

> you find yourself an empty spot and lean back against the cold wall, awaiting the dreaded game to start

- - - - -

> the game started when a man in blue walked into the room

> that made 20 players total

> well, 19 technically, as the game explained that someone was actually the Jack of Hearts

> everything started off smoothly

> people teamed up. some choosing to split into larger groups, while some chose to put their faith in a single partner

> you had paired up with a timid looking old lady

> theoretically your chance of choosing the Jack of Hearts was 1/19, which sounded like pretty good odds

> but you knew better than to put all your eggs in the same basket

> so you drifted around between rounds

> you exchanged suits with other players

> a couple of rounds went by, and still everyone made it through unscathed

> but it wasn’t long until a loud blast announced the death of the first player

> it was a muscular man whom had spent the entire game physically abusing his partner

> his poor partner had been sent flying by the man just the round before

> you’d been close by, and instinctively stepped forward to help him

> but a man in blue had reached him before you

> he whispered something to the guy on the floor, and you watched as the latter lied to his partners face

> you narrowed your eyes at the man in blue as he got up

- - - - -

> it didn’t take long for the game to descend into madness

> people were dropping like flies

> so far, you had put your full faith in your partner, and the majority of people would give the same answer she had given

> nobody had dared to lie about your suit at first

> but it surprised you how confident they were lying straight to your face as the game went on

> with just a handful of people left in the game, one of the larger groups zeroed in on you and your partner

> you brushed them off, so they went to bother your partner

> they filled her head with doubt, but you watched them from afar with a bemused smile on your face

> your partner trusted you, you hadn’t given her a single reason to doubt that

> in fact, you hadn’t lied even a single time to anyone so far

> so it caught you by surprise when the next round started and you couldn’t find your partner anywhere

> you checked each cell, and finally found her

> her face was blown to bits, but her clothes remained mostly intact, albeit soaked in blood

> you leaned your back against her cell door, and slowly slid to the floor

> admittedly, you were disappointed

> you were so sure that you both had trusted each other, but evidently you were wrong about that

> you stared at the door across from you, willing your emotions away

> you heard footsteps approaching as someone made their way across the hall

> you looked up to see the man in blue

> there was a rumour going around about him being a serial killer

> honestly, they weren’t hard to believe

> at this point, you genuinely suspected that he was the Jack

> it was he who had gotten the ball rolling in the first place

> you knew he had told the first guy to lie to his partner

> he stopped in front of you, looking down with a look you couldn’t quite read

> “clubs,” he said quietly, before walking off

- - - - -

> “yours is clubs,” said a guy in yellow, his grey haired partner nodding silently next to him

> maybe the man in blue had been telling the truth then?

> you thank him, and read off their suits to them in return

> by now the numbers had really begun the dwindle

> what had started out as 20 players was now down to 9

> and you were more vulnerable than ever as the only person without a pair

> of those other 8 remaining players, one pair had lied to you in the past rounds, and one had flat out ignored you

> the other two pairs had given you the correct suit every time you had asked, so you depended on them for your survival

> one of these pairs were the boy in yellow, Ippei, and his partner, Chishiya

> with this few players left, you had finally decided to learn some names

> Ippei seemed like a genuine soul, and you found yourself hoping that he would make it out alive

> Chishiya was mysterious, and despite keeping Ippei alive up to this point, anyone with half a brain would have their doubts about him

> you didn’t feel too suspicious about this pair, but you kept your options open and approached the other pair

> this was the man in blue, Banda, and his partner, Matsushita

> while Matsushita was quiet and didn’t seem to be malicious, Banda was a different story

> he emitted a dark aura that made the hair at the back of your neck stand

> he was always calm and collected, with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes

> you weren’t sure what his plan was, but surely he was the Jack

> you needed to watch your back

> despite this though, he had given you the same answer as Ippei and Chishiya had

> “spade,” you say when you step into the prison cell, and after a moment, the door swings open

> you hear a loud blast; both players from the pair that had lied to you had just lost

> this was unsurprisingly really

> what was surprising though, was that you heart a blast in the next round, and Ippei never came out of his cell

> you stared at Chishiya in shock

> 5 players and 1 Jack remaining

- - - - -

> you felt it in your gut

> whatever happened, this would be the final round

> one way or another, the Jack would strike

> “Heart,” Banda told you

> “Heart,” Matsushita confirmed quietly

> you thanked them and returned the favour, before going off to use the restroom

> you felt a presence behind you as you walked, and turned to see Matsushita tailing you

> you’d never seen his face so worried

> he cast a quick glance over his shoulder

> “sorry, what’s my suit again?” he asked quietly

> you cocked your head to the side, reminding him that it was Diamond

> he frowned slightly, staring at the ground in thought

> “your suit is Spade…”

> “Banda made me lie to you.”

> you could only stare at him

> “he told me that my suit is Clubs,” he continued, before checking behind him again

> he got in closer, his voice an urgent whisper

> “Banda… he was a serial killer before he came to the borderlands… we can’t trust him.”

> “Promise you’re telling the truth, that my suit is Diamond. I… I don’t want to die…”

> you nodded, reassuring him that you could be trusted

> he left quickly, and you went to do your business in a daze

> at the end of the round, you made your way to an open cell

> you listened as metal doors clicked shut around the block

> you wondered how many would open back up after this round was over

> as you shut the door of your own cell, you felt it swing back open

> Banda’s dark eyes bore down at you

> “Heart,” he said simply, before closing the door for you

- - - - -

> Matsushita stepped out of his cell

> his ears still rang from the loud blast that had undoubtedly killed all of the remaining players

> he waited for a moment to be cautious, listening for sound of anyone leaving their cells

> but all was silent

> he burst out in laughter

> everything had gone according to plan

> he, Matsushita Enji, the Jack of Hearts, had bested every single player in the game

> of course, this celebration didn’t last very long

> a door swung open suddenly, and Chishiya stepped out

> Matsushita gaped at him

> “How…?”

> Chishiya grinned, explaining slowly how he had put everything together

> Matsushita swallowed at the lump in his throat

> no matter, if there was just one player left, he would still win the game by default

> but the moment the thought crossed his mind, another door swung open

> Banda stepped out, smiling softly and revealing his true impression of Matsushita

> by the time the third door opened up, and Yaba stepped out, all the colour had drained from Matsushita’s face

> he was desperate, and threw accusations in every direction

> he tried to accuse Banda, then Yaba, then finally Chishiya

> “even if the two of you paired up, how do you know that HE’S not the real Jack?!”

> that was your cue; you swung your door open

> “I can vouch for him,” you grinned

> you strolled towards Chishiya, and casually put your arm over his shoulder

> he sighed at this

> he was never one for kinship

> “We go way back,” he said lazily, leaning into you ever so slightly as if to confirm that you were indeed on the same side

> you weren’t close by any means, but you had known each other from the beach

> Matsushita was at a complete loss for words

> that’s when Chishiya dropped the bomb

> of how there was only one reason why Banda and Yaba would want to keep him alive when they knew for sure that he was the Jack of Hearts

- - - - -

> after what the pair of men had done to him

> it came as no surprise that Matsushita had chosen to die

> the blast that killed him shook the doors of the cells

> finally, the game was over

> chishiya made a beeline for the gates

> he had places to be, people to find

> you decided to return to the cafeteria before leaving

> this was your chance to stock up on food

> that’s where Banda approached you

> Chishiya had confirmed his identity as a serial killer, so you kept your guard up

> he nodded at you as he approached the shelves

> before starting to stuff his pockets with biscuits

> “Y/N,”

> he hadn’t turned to look at you

> “congratulations, on surviving the game.”

> you smiled and nodded, thanking him politely

> you paused, you had to admit; you were curious

> so you asked him why he gave you the right suit at the last moment

> how was he so sure that you weren’t the Jack

> he turned to face you as you finished

> his eyes looked unnaturally dark

> “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about me,”

> “you know who I am, what I’ve done.”

> he took a step towards you

> “I can read girls like you.”

> “at least, I thought I did.”

> “but you, you had me fooled,”

> you stepped backwards, your heart starting to pump faster

> “you knew that guy with the white hair this entire time.”

> “I… I had no idea,” he admitted, a smile creeping up his lips

> he had gotten close enough to touch you by then

> he raised a hand, gently grazing your cheek with the back of his fingers

> “congratulations,” he said again, with a smile

> “you’ve caught my attention.”

#Banda sunato #alice in borderland

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blueestbluejay · 1 year

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Black Coffee Bet Chpt 3

I don’t really have any A/Ns here. It’s late and I’m just kinda dumping them all here. But please enjoy : ]

Mayoi was fidgeting with his braid as he waited outside his dorm for HiMERU to pick him up. He whimpered, looking down at his shoes. Oh, this was all going to go horribly wrong. They probably won’t even talk again after this! He’ll hate him! He took a deep breath, trying to still his shaking hands. He looked up as lights approached, a car pulling up. He froze as someone got out of the car, although he began to relax as he realized it was HiMERU. He waved nervously as HiMERU approached him. “H-hello again.” He smiled. “Hello indeed Mayoi. It is good to see you again.” He carefully held out his hand, as one would to a scared animal. Cautiously, Mayoi put his hand in HiMERU’s. HiMERU kissed Mayoi’s knuckles gently, as one might to royalty. Mayoi’s face turned as red as a beet as he stumbled frantically over his words. “HiMERU can assume you’re ready to go?” He gave up trying to speak, nodding meekly. HiMERU smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Let us go then.”

Mayoi sat silently in the car as they drove, pulling at his fingers through his gloves. HiMERU kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing over to the near-shaking Mayoi. “...would you like to know where we’re going?” He jumped, nodding quickly. “There is a nice park HiMERU frequents nearby. HiMERU thought a nighttime picnic would be pleasant.” He glanced over to Mayoi again, warm golden irises making contact with his teal ones. His smile warmed. “It will be alright. Nothing bad will happen, HiMERU promises.” He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he did so. “T-thank you.” “It’s no problem.” He pulled into a parking lot and parked the car before opening the door. Mayoi mirrored his movements, getting out of the car as he scanned the park. It was dark. A few solitary streetlamps illuminated the park. There was a small hill with a pine tree overlooking it. The grass was green, the sidewalk was a dull grey, and there was a swingset near some picnic tables. Mayoi turned to look at HiMERU, who was pulling out a wicker basket and a blue gingham blanket. He looked over and smiled. “HiMERU knows it’s a bit cliche, but he thought it would be nice.” He walked towards the purple-haired man and motioned his head towards the tree. “Let’s go.”

Mayoi helped to spread out the blanket before sitting down next to his date. As HiMERU opened the basket, his mouth began to drool slightly at all the good smells. He smiled, pulling out a tupperware with some fried chicken in it. “My roommate is going to culinary school, he offered to make us food.” Mayoi smiled. “T-that was nice of him.” He nodded. “It was. HiMERU appreciates it.” He pulled out a few more tupperwears, as well as a thermos full of soup. After neatly laying it out, he pulled out a pair of plates and silverware, handing one to Mayoi. “Please, dig in.” Mayoi tentatively took a few bites before eating at a relatively normal pace. HiMERU did the same, biting at the chicken with precision. The two chatted as they ate, mostly about their days and usual small talk stuff before Mayoi paused. He looked down at his hands for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking up at HiMERU. “I-I have something to ask you.” He looked up, swallowing the bite in his mouth. “Hm?” “...” Mayoi maintained eye contact for a few seconds before breaking, cracking a nervous smile. “I-it’s nothing. Please don’t worry about it.” HiMERU nodded. “If you’re sure.” He nodded in return, taking a tentative sip of his soup. It was tomato soup. Perfectly warm on a briskly chilly night. Mayoi flinched as he felt something on his hand. He looked down to see HiMERU’s hand on his, although he was starting to pull it away. “I-it’s alright. I was just startled.” “HiMERU is sorry for startling you.” They were quiet for a moment before Mayoi carefully wrapped his hand around HiMERU’s, giving it a soft squeeze. “...thank you.”

< Prev Chapter / Next Chapter >

#black coffee bet #mayoi ayase #HiMERU #Mod Arven

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redtoondevils · 5 months

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Differenciate between the three Daycare attendants/Theatre bot's. (FNAF-Ruin.)

I've been seeing on Youtube still a lot of miss differentiating between the daycare attendants. This is easily mistaken. So, I'll point out the subtle differences between the three.

The first thing you got to notice is their eyes. Alongside with their color. For Sun, his feature is his left eye. When it's off, it'll be white.

When it's on, it's yellow. For Moon, the right eye is red. And when it's off, his right one will show. For Eclipse, it's both. For their colors, It's just about the same nearly, the differences is, is that their colors seem to have faded more due to the dust, and the paint rubbing off.

Sun's skin color is still the beige yellowish tinge on the left, and right side of his torso. But more pale, and on the top of his Moon's face. Moon's color is the grey, and dark blue color on the left side, and right side of his torso.

Pale, and a bit dull. And his Grey color on his Moon face. For Eclipse, it's a combination of both, with the Sun's tan color on the left side of the torso. With the Moon's blue side color on the right side.

With their faces taking form with the Sun's beige color claiming the Moon's. With the Moon's taking the Sun face, with his dark blue color. Then lastly, is the Sun's yellow arm color taking the left arm, while the Moon's blue arm color taking the right.

The second feature would be their ray's. Even though, Sun and Moon were malfunctioning, you notice how both of the robot's react to the lights. When Moon appeared, a ray at the side of his face popped out, then slid back into the casing.

They don't come out properly, when you shine the light onto him. The ray's are tucked into his head. For Sun, when he reacts to the lights, his ray's naturally comes out of his head.

Not properly, because of the malfunctioning. For Eclipse, his ray's move simultaneously in sync. When they are relaxed, and under control.

Third clue, would be their posture, and behaviors. Sun's stance since, he's friendly. He doesn't crouch, he stands up straight. Moon's posture is more slouched, and sneaky. Eclipse's posture is very docile, and calm. His posture would be straight like Sun's but isn't as energetic.

For their endo look, the models are obviously the same. Maybe their looks in their eyes might stay the same? My head cannon is that, for both Sun and Moon their eye's stay white. Their voices and behaviors are different between them.

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sexygrass · 1 year

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4. Dance With The Devil

genre: smut, supernatural AU, soulmate au, vampires au, werewolf au, Sub/Dom dynamics, angst, mention of traumas, mention of torture, deaths of some characters, and blood, explicit language, fluff, mature content, sadism, lots of killing, and many plot twists.

when Jeno left his room and found no sign of Samantha, he asked the maid about her. After knowing that she left for the party, he made himself comfortable in a blue flannel shirt with a black t-shirt beneath it, grey sweatpants and a silver necklace hung loosely around his neck and headed to the library.

he enjoyed the peaceful time without her. when she's away, Jeno feels safe and able to breathe as if when he's around her he feels exposed and vulnerable. jeno doesn't hate her personally. No, his repulsion is toward her family as a whole.

Jeno is familiar with the Mikaelsons' deeds since their reputation precedes them, from what vampires say about them, he concludes that they are a royal red flag and that they are the most vicious vampires on earth he should be away from. He knows what their family is famous for. Death. Trauma. Manipulation. Recklessness. Very Mercury. Crulity. Sadism. Brutality. Devilish Impulses and many more.

and the fact that Samantha is Klaus's twin sister made her the most rotten villain in his opinion. When Klaus was in town, he committed horrific crimes and no one was able to say anything. He killed all the hybrids he sired, thus, all the werewolves in the city till they ceased to exist. and drowned the former mayor to her death as a lesson to her son -Tyler- for turning his hybrids against him. sacrificed Elena and her aunt for the rituals of breaking the hybrid curse, and killed many, many innocent humans in ways the human brain can't imagine.

All of this generated the image he created of her as the dark, twisted, and psychopath-evil hybrid.

To most, the Mikaelsons were monsters, but to a few, they were something more. and in the meantime, Jeno doesn't side with the few.

...

Samantha's heels clacking echoed in the Elites' ears as they watched her make her way toward whoever she meant by what she said earlier.

"I think I caught a scent of someone I've been itching to meet, excuse me I need to greet him and catch up on what we missed."

Her words echoed in their ears over and over, trying to understand what she meant or who she meant. However, when Suho saw her walking past the staircase and walked toward the other side of the hall. panic washed over him. His assumption about the scent she caught was mistaken.

his mood change didn't go unnoticed by his friends, "What's wrong? You look troubled." xuimin pats his shoulder and the latter flashed him a small smile, "No, I'm fine. I think I need a stronger drink, I'll be right back." they nodded and went back into whatever they were doing.

Samantha had an intense gaze and an ominous aura around her as she smoothly walked past the many bodies; however, the sudden appearance of a figure in front of her made her stumble upon him. if not for his fast reflexes, he would have been stepped over by her heels.

looking down at the strong pair of arms around her waist that held her securely in place, she looked up to meet the face of the road bump that got in her way. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't mean that I swear." he timidly pulled his hands once he realized their whereabouts and held them up; a hue of red shade tinted his cheeks.

locking her blue orbs with his sweet hazelnut brown almond eyes, she finally took into his features. He had an ethereal beauty with a sculpted face. Samantha straightened her dress that rode up a little. "Do not worry, it's partly my fault too since I wasn't aware of my surroundings," with a dull voice, she assured with a forced genuine-ish smile and the light-brown-haired male chuckled timidly and rubbed his nape.

Racking her eyes over his attire, she undoubtfully found him an attractive man. he has clad in three pieces black suit with the tie hung loose, and his hair was lightly disheveled from earlier. suddenly Her breath stopped when she saw the mark of one of the Seven Original Werewolf Packs on his neck.

a werewolf from one of the seven original werewolf packs! thought there were no remaining werewolves and Klaus killed them all. Samantha mused,delightedly surprised.

"My name is Sicheng," he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, giving it a smooth kiss. smiling at the small gesture, she looked him in the eyes, "Samantha," she said curtly.

"I assume those are your friends, aren't they?" winwin looked at where she was looking and chuckled, "Yes, they are. To be honest with you, they're the reason why I pumped into you, they pushed me," he swallowed his lips to suppress his shyness and Samantha found it disgustingly cute.

"what are they? highschoolers?" Samantha laughed, before sending them a smile and lifted her second glass at them. the group of six waved at her. "You're not from around, aren't you? did you move in recently?" She nodded as the scent from earlier faded. "I moved back here days ago," Winwin beamed a smile her way before averting his gaze at his friends.

"wanna meet them?" Samantha smirked when the music started playing, "how about a dance? As compensation for earlier."

walking to the middle of the hall where pairs were dancing, she placed her hand on his shoulder while he took her right hand in his and placed his left one on her waist. swaying their bodies along the rhythm, she kept checking his mark for certainty while maintaining their chattering alive as they laughed quietly at some jokes they exchanged.

Samantha's boiling blood from recognizing the too-familiar scent disappeared slowly the same as the scent. However, she did catch some of it in a specific group. recognizing one of them as Jeno's brother, she spared him a look before answering whatever sicheng asked.

"Who is that girl?" jaehyun asked once he reached their table, Ten grinned at him, "Why? Interested too?" xiaojun scoffed feeling embarrassed by his friend's antics.

"Too?" jaehyun asked with knitted brows and yangyang motioned his head at winwin, who is dancing and smiling ear to ear at the girl before him. "cute," he mumbled to himself before clearing his throat, "thing is, Mark, start freaking out the moment he saw her and now he can't stop rambling about wanting to meet her." they all looked at him puzzled, "what?" kun questioned, confused.

the dance ended and another song started, spinning on her heel to leave, she found herself in the hands of another man, a man she had seen in jeno's memories. the said scent lingering from him, meaning he is friends with him. A grin etched to her pink lips.

"Hey there," voice deep, he greeted "If I'm not mistaken, you're Taeyong, right?" she asked as he placed his large hand behind her thin waist. he was surprised that the mysterious new girl knows his name.

nodding, he smirked, "What? Did you ask around about me?" he grinned cockily making Samantha chuckle lightly. locking her eyes on his, she scanned his face and run her fingers down his sharp jawline taking him by surprise. "such a handsome face. just like him. but I'm sticking to my pick."

his brows knitted together in confusion, glancing at her eyes, the blue in them turned light grey under the seeping sunlight. suddenly felt the air around her shift and a heavy atmosphere loomed over them. I'm playing with fire, with something I don't understand, he thought suddenly. It was as if those blue eyes spoke something, something wicked. there was something screaming "danger" at him. Some instinct older than civilization was telling him to run, to flee.

Taeyong gulped the forming lump at the back of his throat and opened his mouth to speak his confusion but got silenced when Samantha placed her hand over his beating heart.

"Calm down. I have questions you're going to answer honestly without any suspicion and when the music ends, you'll forget about them."

nodding, he answered them all, truthfully. when he decided to ask her about herself or at least her name she already walked away by the time the music stopped.

looking to his side, he found no sight of her, as if she evaporated in thin air. "Where is she?" Mark exclaimed once he reached his side. "I don't know...she suddenly left," grunting, Mark run a hand through his blue hair.

"your girlfriend didn't stop asking me about you, Mel, I can't keep stalling her forever, not anymore. she depletes me, "hyuck appeared by their side and sighed fixing his onyx cufflinks. "fine, I will talk to her," Mark groaned slumping his shoulders and Haechan snorted.

"Taeyong, we need to talk," the guy mentioned turning to meet the stern gaze Suho was wearing, "not here, follow me," suho turned on his heels and walked toward the front two-story big doors and taeyong found himself trailing with an alarmed mind.

"he's acting shady today, don't you think?" without tearing his eyes off of them, Haechan voiced out Mark's thoughts, "Yeah, you know... he hugged me today" He stated, suspicion lingering in his voice. "And with a huge grin too," he added.

"I don't know but this sudden fonding isn't relaxing. don't get me wrong, I'm honored for it. you know...to be able to talk to one of the Elites but I can't help but feel this unsettling feeling in my chest. you get what I mean?"

nodding, haechan faced his brother with a sigh. "let's hope this party ends without any unpleasant surprises. I really want to enjoy my day."

...

"Greetings, Ladies," her honeyed voice caught the two girls' attention, "You look dashing, blondie. No wonder Nik liked you." Caroline took a deep breath before flickering her eyes at her, her teasing grin made blood boil in her veins.

"Thanks," she retorted back," you too look...." she sighed and slumped her shoulders, "amazing, simple but classy." beaming a smile at her compliment, Samantha stood straight, "Elena," Samantha called and the brunet looked at her with a bored look, "do you have any idea where Rebekah might be? did she hint where she might go last time you have spoken?"

taken aback by the random question, Caroline spoke up, "Why? I thought the first thing you'll do is family meeting." licking her lips, Samantha looked at her wordlessly and the latter caught the answer. "we haven't seen her in a while, maybe she left town." Elena voiced out.

"understandable. I need your help in distracting those guys over there," Sam motioned to the four men Winwin is talking to, "why would we do that?"

"they're the ones who got Damon," she answered monotonously, "keep them here while I deal with something." she said before leaving. "didn't that cute charming guy tried hitting on Bonnie earlier tonight? do you think she'll be able to distract him?" Caroline grinned widely before facing Elena.

"Oh my god, you're right! come on, hurry, I saw her talking with the mayor. she's his mom."

...

"go back inside, Baekhyun." baekhyun halted upon Samantha's warning words. Heading to her car, she knew someone was following her.

"is everything okay?" he asked warily, "oh, everything is perfect, this day is my lucky day, I may say," she smirked at him before getting in the car and driving away. Leaving Baekhyun to watch her with a heavy heart.

after ten minutes of driving, she parked in front of a grey and white modern bungalow. stepping out, she took patient steps down the stone path and climbed the three steps toward the porch.

"not so bad," she said to herself before brushing her knuckles at the white wooden door, soon a tall man with red shoulder-length hair with pink full lips, and deep brown eyes opened the door. "Is Moon Taeil here?" saying his name made her skin burn with rage however she masked it with a smile.

the red-headed guy raked his eyes up and down admiring her body that was perfectly wrapped in her floral dress, biting his lower lip, he leaned on the door frame with crossed arms over his chest making the fabric of his white hoodie cling to his lean torso.

"Well, darling, that depends on who's asking. what if you're his psycho ex-girlfriend and came here to kill him?" Samantha's smile widened and tilted her head at him. his bright smile tugged on his lips.

"I am that obvious, am I?" his smile slowly faded. before he could word out, another voice boomed behind him, "Yuta, who's on the door—" The man cut himself off and slammed the door shut, his face drained of color.

Samantha took a step back with a soft giggle erupting from her mouth, "how long do you think this house will stand?" she asked in a loud, fruity voice. "Taeil, love. if you're there, you'd better come out before I lose my patience," she caressed her diamond necklace, " as you know, I'm no patient woman."

inside the house, Doyoung starts pacing back and forth in the hall with a mortified look and a racing heart. After he closed the door, he shared with Yuta the identity of the woman standing on their porch and the latter vamps sped upstairs to warn Taeil.

moments later taeil came downstairs with a pale face. his composed nerves vanished the moment he heard her voice that was anything but soothering. memories of her flooded his mind making his view hazy.

Taeil, love. if you're there, you'd better come out before I lose my patience, as you know, I'm no patient woman.

"the rest are at the party, we can't risk calling them," Doyoung panted, "what are we going to do?" Yuta asked, frantic. Taeil opened his mouth to speak but halted to dodge a broken wooden picket fence that pierced through the window.

"This is a beautiful fence, I might say." They heard her calm voice as they watched the door with widened eyes, her gentle tone sending goosebumps down their spines.

(just like Klaus did in this scene)

another picket was launched and nearly pierced Yuta's head. "unless you invite me in, this beautiful house will become a hideous front for people to see." taeil looked at his two friends with a look that made them both shoot their eyes at him. "no, no, no, no. You're not doing that." Doyoung chanted, shaking his head aggressively.

Suddenly and at light speed, yuta found himself pinned against the wall with a broken wooden picket punctured into his abdomen. hearing a pained grunt, Samantha bite her lips excitedly. "I know it's not you, love, but your whimpering made me happy."

another two pickets whooshed through the door and more after it, creating many holes in the once pretty front of the house. Yuta managed to pull the wooden piece out with a hiss, simultaneously another picket punctured doyoung's chest, pulling a loud gasp from the three vampires.

Taeil felt his heart about to explode with horror for his friends he rushed to doyoung and pulled it out, relief washed over him when it wasn't near his heart and that there were no splinters left inside. "I'm sorry," he put on a weak smile that made doyoung's heart sink.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted, "you may come in," he said, barely above a whisper. his weak, tight voice made his friends hurry to his side defensively. "are you crazy?!" yuta screamed at him; "she'll kill you Taeil! why did you do that?! she'll—"

They turned their heads at the door that opened slowly, Samantha put the pointy tip of her heel first, testing if the invite is valid or not. having no visible wall blocking her, she smirked and stepped over the shattered piece of glass and splinters of wood. towering over Taeil who was squatted near his black-haired friend, she grinned, maliciously.

"Well, well, well, Moon Taeil. Finally, we meet again. I have missed you, love." her eyes narrowed at the other boy by his side. "Didn't your parent teach you that it's rude to close a door on a lady's face, hm?"

"GO TO HELL," yuta seethed. Samantha smirked at him, "Gladly," she uttered, calmly as she looked at him over her shoulder. "but I will send you there first." turning her whole body towards him, Taeil whooshed and stood in front of her with his arms open.

"No, your problem is with me. Leave them out of this," he said with a clenched jaw. scoffing, she stepped closer to him and brushed her slim, cold fingers on his tight jaw. the feeling of the twitching muscle under her fingers made her smile. Taeil inhaled a shakey breath, his body stiffens under her touch. ghosting her lips over his, she inhaled his scent before looking him dead in the eyes.

"you're in no position to make commands, love," she whispered to him before twisting his head to the other side and casually rolling his body off, sending it flying across the house.

"Now, you two should learn your manners."

<- previous chapter

main list

next chapter ->

#exo #mark lee #nct 127 #wayv #the originals #hot dom fem?#vampires #marl lee x you #jeno x you #werewolves #nct scenarios

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kelsywrites · 1 year

Text

Time & Space Colliding

Chapter 10

The sound of his heart beating pounded in his ears. Darkness seemed to swallow him, his head felt like static, or more like a roaring ocean. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed and took a deep breath. The air coming through his nostrils smelt like pine and was crisp. That was when he realized he was lying on his back. The ground underneath him was hard and rough. His fingers twitched and then moved. TJ’s hands grazed against what felt like grain, dirt, straw, pine needles, pebbles, rocks. Where was he?

There was a ringing in his ears that he hadn’t noticed before, it was loud and sharp. It began to taper off being replaced by the subtle sound of leaves rustling in a soft breeze and birds chirping. His eyelids felt heavy, and he struggled to blink them open. Finally, blinking once, twice…his vision was blurry. Brown, grey, green, spots of blue, stars. He blinked again no, not stars. As his vision began to clear he realized he was looking up at branches of tall trees. Blue and grey speckled spots of the morning sky peeking through the branches that displayed like a canopy over him.

Sucking in another breath of air, this time through his mouth he slowly blew it out and attempted to move. His body felt heavy, and his head throbbed, a dull pain that spread from the back of his head to his forehead. TJ shifted his head it felt like a bowling ball attached to his neck. It was then that he realized it felt better with his eyes closed. What happened?

Eddison sat on the couch staring at one of the documents from the old pawn shop. It looked like an old deed, but she wasn’t really processing what she was looking at. Her mind was elsewhere.

“Are you sure he went for a walk?” Stanley asked as he came into the den.

Trying not to appear as worried as she was she sighed and picked up a few more of the files. “I’m not sure. He might have gone back to Owen’s to get information on this place he thinks Deni is. I was planning on going over there to have him look through these anyways.”

Stanley’s brows knitted together as he looked at her unconvinced.

The front door opened, and they both spun around.

“Howdy! I brought some goodies.” Rachel held up a white paper bag of baked goods.

Eddi clenched her jaw to keep her disappointment at bay and gave Stanley a closed-lip smile as she grabbed her bag.

“Borrow my truck.” He tossed her his keys and shifted his attention to Rachel, “I’ll take a donut.”

Eddison cruised the neighborhood lapping around a couple of times before pulling up to Owen’s. She knew that Terry wasn’t here, and she sat with the truck idling. Her mind was racing. For the first time since Scotty had been shot, she felt completely helpless.

This feeling made it nearly impossible to assess the current situation and avoid reliving the past. Remembering how she was on her way to the empty lot where they had put together a half pipe and a couple of makeshift bike jumps. There were a couple of bench seats from junked SUVs they had placed in the lot and an old metal drum they had used for fire on cold nights or just to burn things. The sound of gunfire ringing through the still night air. It was always a blurred memory of her skateboarding, freezing at the sound, her heart dropping into her stomach. Running, her feet beating against the sidewalk, blue and red lights painting against blackness, blurred vision, the sound of screaming sirens.

“Eddi…” a muffled voice and a tapping. She jumped and came back to the present. Owen was knocking on the truck window, and she rolled it down.

His eyes searched her face before speaking again, “Hey Cailín…what’s the story?”

Eddison blinked and met Owen’s concerned stare. He was the only one to call her by that Irish slang and had since she was a girl. Hearing it now brought slight comfort, “Have you seen Terry?”

“He was here last night.”

She swallowed hard and shifted her gaze to the door. Her mind working.

“Come on in.” he opened the truck door for her, and she got out and followed him inside.

“Did Terry tell you what was going on?”

Owen glanced over his shoulder at her as he pulled two drinks out of the fridge and threw one her way, “You know Terry.” He smiled encouragingly at her. “What’s eating at your pretty mind?”

“I have a sick feeling in my gut…but I’m not sure if it’s just worry…” she reached into her bag and pulled out the documents and the photo album. “I was going to ask you to look through these documents for us, but…” Eddi opened the album and flipped through it, “Do you know how to find where this place is?”

He took the album and sat down on the couch with her. His eyes seemed to study it intently. Minutes passed before he spoke, “could be a few places…is there a way we can narrow it down? Maybe Mira or Stanley would recognize the place?”

Her eyes glanced back at the picture of a young TJ in the woods, “I didn’t want to worry Mira…I should have asked Stanley but I was hoping Terry was just walking the neighborhood.”

Owen got up and went to his desk and rifled through some papers pulling out a map. Unfolding it he began to explore it and then picked up the phone, “Hey what do you know about fish?”

Standing on the shore waves splashing against the sand and rolling back into the ocean. Sun beat down on him like a warm embrace, the cool water rushing over his bare feet was a sweet contrast. The breeze seemed to dance about him. He glanced down at his hands they looked older than he remembered rough and worn. His eyes noticed the pendant hanging around his neck and he reached for it running his thumb over the symbol.

Children’s laughter sang like music in his ears and he looked behind him to see a blurred vision of them chasing each other giggling. There was a woman in a sun dress tossed by the wind, and she seemed to be watching them her gaze shifting to him and staring.

There was a feeling of ease and contentment that came from within. His eyes turned back to the sea, watching the waves roll in. This moment was so serene. Foam from the breaks of the waves glided back and forth. Salt air, waves breaking, mist hitting his face from the waves and the wind.

He inhaled and opened his eyes. Mist from the ocean turned to mist from rain trickling through the branches above him. TJ sat up abruptly. His head responded in throbbing pain. Clenching his eyes shut and breathing through the pain, he ran his fingers through his hair and noticed a moist sticky spot behind his right ear. Pulling his fingers down he discovered blood.

“Shit…” that explained the headache. He pressed his bandana against it and then struggled to his feet. His eyes scanned the surroundings. Tall trees encircled him, boulders sat to one side of him, and at his feet a few rocks that seemed to have tumbled from the rock outcrop. This place looked oddly familiar, and he wracked his brain as he tried to remember how he ended up here.

His left hand reached for the pendant as he tried to calm his nerves. The watch on his wrist triggered the memory of him in the room waiting for Eddi. “Eddi?” He studied the watch. It ticked normally the time reading 10:13.

Anxious he began walking through the trees looking around. It looked a lot like the memories from his dreams. Stepping on undergrowth and weaving through trunks he finally made it to a clearing and stopped short.

She stood her arms outstretched and her head back looking up at the sky like she was catching raindrops on her tongue. Her hair was free and swayed in the breeze. His heart pounded in his chest and his throat tightened. Was he dreaming?

He took a step forward raindrops falling softly rolling through his hair and down his exposed skin. TJ swallowed hard wondering if he kept moving would he ruin this tranquil moment.

Deni spun in a circle and froze then turned on her heel and stared in wonderment at TJ. She started walking to him, he was frozen afraid he’d wake from this dream. Then his feet started moving. The sound of her giggling was like a song in his ears. And then they stood a foot apart, her jasper eyes twinkling up at him.

“I dreamt of this moment.” She smiled, “I have something to show you.” Deni took his hand in hers, it was soft and warm. Then she began to lead him back towards the trees.

Was he dreaming? He couldn’t be here. He was in Stanley’s guest room waiting for Eddi to wake him up. TJ’s feet stopped, her hand tugging on his. She turned and looked him over, “Are you okay?”

“How…what’s happening?” His mouth felt dry and his throat tight with emotion that he couldn’t place. He swallowed hard, his eyes not leaving hers.

Deni smiled softly at him. “Didn’t your father tell you the importance of asking the right questions?”

His heart was racing, his head aching, “My father?”

Her response was silence. Then she stepped closer to him and stared into his eyes as if searching his mind and waiting for him.

“What’s the right question? Am I dreaming are you real?” He swallowed, “What do you know about my father?”

Deni giggled. “Come on.” Her hand tugged on his and she began to lead the way again, walking gracefully as though her feet barely touched the ground. As they made their way through the trees she began to sing softly.

He listened soothed by her melodious voice and the feeling of her hand in his. The questions that plagued him seemed to dissipate, the rain let up and the chill that had settled in his bones seemed to thaw.

They veered off the trail to the left through a thicker set of trees. He walked cautiously, stepping over fallen branches and careful not to slip on the slick rocks. She seemed unhindered by the path as though she was well acquainted with it.

Her song ended and she paused glancing back at him smiling encouragingly.

“You have a beautiful voice.” “I’m glad you’re here.” She turned and wound through a few more trees before bringing them to a small clearing and stopping.

TJ’s eyes took in the quaint log cabin, with a small deck and a firepit off to the side. He studied its surroundings noticing there was no clear trail or dirt road to it. It was completely surrounded by big trees and there looked to be a drop-off not far behind it.

“Come inside.”

He followed her inside, “Is this your place?”

Deni remained silent and walked up to a small side table and picked up something, she stared at it for a moment.

TJ let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. It was a warm homey little place. A couch, its frames made out of logs a matching coffee table and end table a bed off to the far corner, a small kitchen with a small wooden kitchen table, and a stone fireplace. “Where are we?”

Deni turned towards him. He immediately noticed the tears in her eyes and stepped towards her. She smiled weakly and handed him what she was holding. His gaze shifted from hers to the object in her hands.

“I need a beer.” Stanley stated. Rachel retrieved one from the fridge. “Owen, you mind taking this one for me…Keep Eddi safe and make sure the kid is good?”

“I just don’t understand how he could have gotten there or why he would have gone on his own…” Rachel’s voice trailed off when she realized the look on Stanley’s face. “Right…” She opened the beer and handed it to him.

Eddi stood in the guest room wondering if or what she was missing. She grabbed the cigar box off the bed and opened it pausing when she noticed that the watch was missing. She swallowed hard as her fingers began to tremble. Shifting things around in the box hoping it was just hidden under things. Her shaking hands fumbled with it, and she watched as it fell to the carpet its contents scattering.

Fighting her nerves and frustration she clenched her jaw as she dropped to the floor and began picking up her cherished treasures. That’s when she noticed the picture under the bed. She grabbed it and sat back on her haunches.

“Hey, Stanley’s getting some supplies ready for us.”

Her head swiveled towards the doorway finding Owen stepping in.

“Are you good?”

“The watch is gone…”

“Watch ya gonna do about it?”

“Eww so much worse than Scotty.” She stood up and handed him the picture, “I thought he had this with him.”

Owen studied the picture of young TJ and his father. “He never talked about his dad…” His gaze shifted back to hears and he could see the worry and fear written all over her face. “What’s got you so wound up?”

Eddi closed her eyes and fought back a scoff not sure if she was irritated with his lame jokes or with this situation. “This watch…I don’t know but I feel like it’s been the common thread to all our problems since he met this girl named Deni and her’s went missing or was taken or…Fuck.” She gripped her hair.

“Cailín…what can I do? What can we do?” he put her hands on her shoulders and she found herself fighting tears. “Now don’t do that…let it out girly…come on.” He pulled her to his chest, “You’ll be better at thinking once you do.”

She clenched her eyes shut a few tears escaping, her breath hot reflecting off his shirt. Owen’s arms wrapped tightly around her steadied her and she allowed herself to release. When her chest finally felt a little lighter, she sniffled and spoke with a shaky voice, “I’m usually the one making jokes, or making light of the situation. Your jokes suck.”

Owen laughed, “I was just trying to take some pressure off you. Now, what do we know?”

“Deni and Terry are MIA.”

She paused and he patiently waited for her to continue.

Eddi held her breath for a moment. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and then blew out a ragged breath. “Deni said something to him about someone taking her watch. Then Terry found a watch with a note in this abandoned pawn shop that he had taken Deni to…it was a weird watch, so he asked me to help with it. And it was at my place when the fire started…I thought we lost it in the fire…but it somehow ended up in my cigar box and now Terry and the watch are missing.” She paused and met Owen’s hazel eyes. “Yesterday he decided that that note and watch were left for him by his father…said it was his father’s handwriting…this all sounds wild doesn’t it?”

He offered a small encouraging smile, “I have one question.”

She searched his eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

Eddi stared at him and nodded.

“Good…because I don’t think you’re going to like my plan.” He offered a small smile and squeezed her shoulders. “You’re tense…I need you to clear your head. And I need you to trust that you and TJ are important to me.”

“Owen…”

“Eddi…you need to blow off some steam. I need you to have a clear head. I’m going to go through some of those files and talk to Stanley. I want to have some idea of what we are up against. There’s no sense going in blind. And if someone was willing to burn you alive over this watch, kill over this watch then I’m not messing around.”

She went to protest, and he pressed a finger to her lips. The look of compassion and concern shadowed his eyes and caused her to concede.

“Cailín…trust me…” his eyes held hers. “Even if we leave now, we aren’t going to have much daylight. If he’s not back tonight we will leave early…get there by dawn and have the whole day to look for him and Deni…Trust me…go skate or smash some shit or go for a run…whatever you need to do to blow off some steam. You’ve had a pretty stressful few days.”

Eddi nodded slightly, “I don’t like this.”

Owen ruffled her hair, “me either…but only fools rush in.”

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chloe-the-ice-queen · 3 years

Text

This Doesn’t Mean We’re Friends - Ch. 2

Hey guys! Another chapter done and posted, I hope y’all enjoy it!! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, I probably won’t cap it unless I really need to :)

First | Previous | Here | Next

Marinette and Chloe rode in the Bourgeois limo from Marinette's bakery to the Grand Paris. Chloe filled her in on what to expect and what to do. "I'll be with you most of the time, so I can tell you who to steer clear of, and who you should try to talk to. I'll try to introduce you to a few people I know would be interested in your designs. You made that dress, right?"

"Yeah, designed and created it from scratch." Chloe eyed Marinette's dress appreciatively. It was tastefully made, the dark blue complementing the girl's dark hair and bluebell eyes. The top was halter-style, with a high neckline and no sleeves. It fit Marinette's form, with rhinestones glittering on her torso. The bottom half of her dress was long and elegant, falling loosely to the floor, the front hem higher than the back, showing off Marinette's silver heels. It wasn't half bad.

It was actually quite impressive, as most of Marinette's designs were. She had upgraded from her normal pink capris and grey cardigan outfit after Lila had come back to school, transitioning to a more stylish, modern look. But this dress was nothing less than gorgeous on the small girl, but wasn't overly classy and overdone like some dresses she was sure to see throughout the night. It looked nice, but it didn't look like she was showing off, which Chloe could appreciate.

Chloe herself wore a sleek, sleeveless yellow dress that highlighted her fair skin and bright blue eyes. Chloe's hair flowed freely around her shoulders, curled and styled, while Marinette had hers up in an elegant bun, with loose curls framing her face. Together, the two girls contrasted each other, but the stark differences went well together.

As they pulled up to the front of the hotel, paparazzi and reporters swarmed the red carpet, bombarding the famous partygoers.

"They shouldn't be too interested in us, but just ignore them." Chloe advised Marinette, before opening her door and sliding out of the car. Marinette slipped out behind her, adjusting to the flashing of cameras and the buzz of conversation. She shut the door behind her, and joined Chloe in walking up the front steps.

Just going to the event was sure to bring her some recognition, especially accompanied by Chloe, but she wasn't too worried about being bombarded by paparazzi. Only a few reporters bothered them, and as instructed, Marinette tuned them out.

Once they entered the ballroom, the chatter became more of a dull roar. Chloe greeted a few people mingling just inside the doorway, before they were accosted by a very familiar voice. Adrien, who was dragging a disgruntled Lila along behind him. "Hey guys! It's nice to see you here!" Adrien enthused.

"I'm sure." Chloe said, unamused. "Now if you don't mind, we need to-"

"I thought that you could introduce us to some of your friends here, Chloe. That way Lila can make some new friends-" Adrien interrupted. Lila suddenly looked interested in their conversation.

"Well, since we know how many connections Lila has, I'm sure she doesn't need me to introduce her to anyone." Said Chloe.

"Don't be like that Chl-"

"Chloe!!" Someone near them half shouted, turning the heads of people around them. A boy around their age was walking over to them, waving. "I wasn't sure if you'd come or not. It's been a while."

"Henri!" Chloe said, looking entirely amused. "I haven't spoken to you since that party in London."

"I doubt either of us will ever be invited to that again." Henri said, making Chloe laugh. Now that he was closer, Marinette studied him. He was very handsome, objectively, of course. The kind of easy beauty that makes you want to laugh or cry. He had dark brown curls, and kind brown eyes that sparkled with amusement. When he glanced at her, she felt her face flush a little. Chloe and the stranger, Henri, traded stories and jokes for a minute, while the other three observed. Adrien seemed to recognize the newcomer, and Lila was waiting for her chance to jump into the conversation.

"Now," his voice was quieter, teasing, but making sure the other three heard him as well. "You should introduce me to your very pretty friend here. I don't believe I've seen her at any of your events before." He smirked at Chloe, who rolled her eyes.

"This is-"

"Lila, nice to meet you." The green eyed girl said, sticking out her hand, which he ignored, looking at her with annoyance and slight disbelief, if Marinette had to guess.

Chloe seemed taken aback, "This is Marinette, an amazing up-and-coming designer who my mother and Gabriel Agreste have both scouted for their brands." She turned to Marinette, "This is my friend Henri, his parents are both models and his mother is a designer my mother has collaborated with. I'm sure the two of you have quite a lot in common, so why don't we go find a table to chat?"

"Why don't we come with you? You know that I happen to be friends with quite a few designers and models myself, I might be able to give some input." Lila said, while Adrien, who had been looking angry at Chloe, perked up.

He and his date began to follow the trio, when Chloe said, "Sorry, you two, but my mom reserved a table just for three. And I'm sure Lila can get you guys seats next to someone much more important anyways." She grabbed Marinette and pulled her along with her to a table near the front, Henri following behind them.

"Adrien's gotten worse since last time." The boy remarked as they sat down.

Marinette looked at him disapprovingly, when Chloe responded, "I agree. I thought it was just because of his dad, but his social skills have somehow become even worse since he started going to school."

Marinette looked surprised. Probably because she felt surprised. Didn't Chloe like Adrien? Wasn't he her best friend? Maybe they had a falling out, or maybe Chloe had stopped liking Adrien for the same reason Marinette had. Whatever the case, they could all agree on one thing.

"That girl is nasty." Henri said. "Do you know her?"

Marinette and Chloe looked at each other. "Unfortunately," Chloe supplied. "She's in our class."

"Ah, my apologies. Anyways, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Marinette. If you're as good as Chloe said, I'm sure I'll be seeing you around more."

Marinette smiled as Chloe said, "She is quite talented. She made the dress she's wearing."

The bluenette looked at her shoes under the table. "Ah, an excellent designer then. I'll be sure to mention you to my parents when I get the chance. In the meantime, though, Chloe, I need to be going. I need to talk to a few people before I head out, it was good to see you again."

The three stood, and Henri turned and hugged Chloe, and then turned to Marinette. She smiled. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Henri."

"The pleasure is mine, I'm sure." Henri said, and took Marinette's hand, kissing the back of her knuckles lightly, his eyes teasing. Marinette laughed, blushing slightly.

The trio separated, Chloe pulling Marinette off to meet other people.

Through the entire interaction, two pairs of green eyes watched the small group from across the room. One filled with jealousy, one with annoyance and maybe a little sadness too.

----

Throughout the night, Chloe introduced Marinette to dozens of people. A few designers, models, artists, business moguls, celebrities, you name it. In return, Marinette stayed with Chloe and endured tedious conversations she had to engage in for her parents' sake. Chloe would never admit it, but having the baker girl there was nice, it made the evening slightly less unbearable.

For the bluenette, it was great exposure into the fashion world. She got to meet several of her idols and make connections with influential people. People started to hear about her designs, many of them admired the dress she wore that showcased her budding talent.

Style Queen herself was thrilled to see her there. Chloe had let her mother know who she was bringing once Marinette was invited, of course, but Audrey was still happy to see her favorite young designer.

At the end of the evening, Marinette and Chloe rode back to the Dupain-Cheng bakery together. When the limo pulled to a stop, Marinette started to get out, then paused. "Thank you so much for everything Chloe. I know you don't like me much, but tonight was so much fun and I'm so grateful that you introduced me to so many people. And thank you for inviting me to come with you, even if it was just to tick off Lila." Marinette gushed, honestly honored by Chloe's thoughtfulness, even if it was caused by spite.

"Yeah whatever, you're welcome Dupain-Cheng, this doesn't mean we're friends, okay?" Chloe grumbled.

Marinette smiled. "Good night, Chloe." She closed the door before Chloe could respond, and walked into the bakery.

----

When Marinette went to bed that night, she went to sleep with a happy buzz in her chest, Tikki nestled beside her on the pillow.

Alrighty then, I guess that’s Chapter 2 done! I hope y’all liked it!! And that should also be the end of these super short chapters, the next one will definitely be a lot longer, and will hopefully be posted sometime tomorrow?? I love you guys, thanks for all your support!

@agentofscifi

#miraculous #miraculous fic #marinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrien salt #alya cesaire #alya salt #nino lahiffe #lila rossi #lila salt #chloe bourgeois #chloe deserves better #chloe redemption #chloe redemption fic

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pinkblosmx · 2 years

Text

How You Meet Crime Boss Miranda Headcanons

A/N: I couldn’t help myself, the amazing artwork Darika did of Miranda in a suit gave me ideas, along with listening to some mafia girl asmr. I do plan on writing a few oneshots but for now here’s some basic headcanons!

You work for the Dimitrescu family, you don’t have a so called special role, unless a secretary is a special role, you are quite ordinary. That’s probably why the Lady of the family herself decided that you were perfect for going undercover at Miranda’s organisation. Alcina did have someone undercover but Miranda found them out and of course killed them, you’re nothing but a replacement for that role and may even be better suited for it even if Alcina and her daughters are a little sad to see you go.

You’ve heard a lot about Miranda or Mother Miranda as most people refer to her, she’s the most feared person in the city and the cruellest, you’ve never seen her before though so you let your imagination fill in what she must look like although you weren’t prepared to actually see her for the first time when you had your interview. The guards led you to her office, knocked on the door and a voice answered, you guessed her accent to be transatlantic and her voice was firm but still feminine, you liked it.

One of the guards opens the door and you walk in alone, with the door closing behind you. The walls of the office are dark grey, without the natural lighting from the windows you’re sure it would be pitch black although the golden chandelier attached to the ceiling would lighten the room the same at night you’re sure. The desk is wood but had obviously been painted black with golden details but the main thing that caught your attention was Miranda herself.

She was more gorgeous than you had imagined, her medium length dirty blonde hair down, her black and grey suit with a 3 flowered golden brooch? Whatever it was it really complimented the suit. Her eyes were blue or maybe nearly grey? And her lips, oh her lips were coated in a dull crimson that could be mistaken for a dark brown but you guessed you knew better. Still you didn’t expect her to be this attractive.

“Please sit down.” Miranda says and gestures her head towards one of the the chairs in front of you. You sit down not too quickly but not too slowly either, you’re thankful that Alcina was kind enough to coach you on how this interview may go and what to expect after all this was no ordinary work interview.

“Is Y/N your real name?” Miranda asks you the second you sit down and that’s just the start, she asks a variety of questions some to do with your personal life and some to do with the work you might do like how are you with blood? Can you shoot a gun? You answered them all honestly, it would do you no good to lie to Miranda even though you’re basically going to be a spy, a mole in her organisation.

Her neutral expression did not change once during the interview although you did get flustered at some of her questions which of course she noticed despite her face being unfeeling. Once it was over she dismissed you, didn’t say she would call or anything just dismissed you which Alcina told you to expect, Miranda likes to toy with possible new employees, likes to keep them on edge.

You left not feeling all too confident about how it went but still hopeful, you know how important it is to the Dimitrescu family that Miranda chooses you. When you return to them, you tell them how it went, Alcina seems rather pleased and for two weeks you continue as normal, that is until 5am on Monday, your phone rings loudly jumping you awake from your peaceful slumber, it’s an unknown number but you answer it.

“Hello?” You say tired and cautiously.

“I expect to see you in my office at 8 o’clock. Don’t be late.” You hear Miranda’s voice clearly through your not so woken up state and before you can even try to answer she hangs up. This must mean you got the job right? You don’t want to but instead of going back to sleep you call Alcina, who doesn’t answer so you leave a voicemail and then try to get a couple of hours sleep before getting ready to start your work for Miranda.

#mother miranda x reader #I think I’m really going to enjoy this au #other characters will be mentioned and featured #please expect Alex to pop up in future #maybe even Officer Mia too?#I’m getting ahead of myself

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malebellyworld · 3 years

Text

Love My Way

Chubby! Steve Rogers x Male! Reader

Getting him to stay was hard, very hard. After spending nearly twenty-three years in the 21st century, life for Steve Rogers was still difficult getting used to, and since the damages of The Blip left this large fission on the face of society, thus fueling his craving for going back was strong.

"Please... you don't have to go, I-I know that things are pretty shitty, but that doesn't mean that it's all over." You said, through pained sobs and burning tears, as you and Steve stood on the side of the Stark log cabin.

His face twisted in pain. "It's not just that; it's all deep-rooted, that's where I belong,"

You stepped closer, taking in his scent. "I know you lost so much, so did I, but that's why we have each other, to complete that void in ourselves," You sobbed again. "Please, Steve, don't go."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go back," Steve said, crossing his arms. "Other than it being all about you."

You huffed, glancing down at your shoes. "Well, for one thing, they don't accept any other sexuality other than heterosexuality. Lest we forget the racism and the many brutal historical events and injustices you’d have to experience.”

Steve sighed heavily. "You have your points... but how could you ever make me happy like Peggy did?."

You shook your head in disbelief, holding up three fingers. "One, I helped introduce you to the modern world. Two, I risk my life for you and Bucky by helping you hack into the Sokovian Accords. And three, I was there with you when you'd cry every night since the Snap... every night I'd be there to let you hold onto me because you never felt more alone than you did at that time, and now that Tony's gone, the only people you have left is me and Bucky and Sam.

He was silent, keeping his gaze down on the dull grass covered in the morning dew. "I mean you’ve got a point…”

You sighed in agitation. “I’ve got lots of points, and one more thing…”

Steve raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“If you leave me, then say goodbye to my cooking, forever.” You said teasingly.

•••

It’s been a year. Steve’s arms remained muscular, often going to the gym and continuing to lift weights as well as squats with dumbbells, his physique becoming broader in the shoulders, arms, ass, and thighs. As for his abs, they were beyond far gone. His new shirts would hide his spherical stomach, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had gained nearly a hundred and seventeen pounds.

Both of you knew this, yet neither of you had a problem with it at all. Steve says it made him feel “stronger… like an unstoppable beast”, but you mostly liked it because 1). It offered more warmth for the frigid winter nights, 2). Steve knew that it turned you on, so he’d often walk around the apartment in nothing but his tightening boxer briefs and cropped tank top you made him for the hot summer days, and 3.) it just looked great on him overall, making him not only look but feel large and safe. Safety being something you have always craved in your relationship ever since the Blip basically tore your family out of your life, you found them a few years after things seemingly went back to "normal", yet the damages from Thanos' reign still burned like a fresh wound.

Thankfully though, Steve was always there to help. Whenever you had a nightmare, he would always have you in his arms, on his chest, or his belly. Your favorite part was whenever he would gently rake his fingers through your hair whilst humming a Marvin Gaye tune.

Currently, Steve was sitting on the couch, grey sweatpants with the drawstring tied, and an XL navy blue shirt that gently outlined his belly. You carefully held the large bowl of lemon chicken rigatoni with broccoli in your arm as you sat down on his thick thighs, your pelvis gently rubbing against Steve’s large round tummy. Lifting up the first forkful, you began feeding Steve, who only took big bites for the duration of most of your feeding sessions.

His hands lingered on your hips as you continued to feed, the left hand sliding under your short shorts and feeling the skin underneath. He smirked as you let out a soft gasp, thrusting your pelvis more into his belly, causing the massive dome to wobble and for Steve to moan.

Panting, he gently raised a hand to stop before taking in a large slow breath of air, a faint creak emitted from under his large belly before…

SNAP

You could visibly see the large pale belly wobble just before it jutted outwards pressing against your thighs and groin, which began to grow hard against the warm beach ball belly.

Steve huffed, grabbing your hand and rubbing against his tummy. “That drawstring wasn’t gonna last that long anyways.” He winked, before rubbing the other side of his now massive belly. You gently leaned forward, kissing the super soldier passionately on his soft lips, pressing a little deeper into his belly and causing him to moan in the kiss.

You gasped for air before smirking down at him. “You’re so fucking amazing.” You smashed your lips back onto his, thrusting your pelvis more and more into the massive belly, causing the white shirt to ride up all the way under Steve’s big pecks, which bounced along with his belly with each thrust you gave. However, under you, Steve’s erection was growing harder and bigger.

Steve pulled away from the kiss. “What about dessert?.”

You raised an eyebrow flirtatiously, leaning in closer to his ear. “Why don’t we take it to the bedroom then big boy?.” You said in a deep sultry tone.

#fanfic #weight gain #male weight gain #steve rogers #male reader #steve rogers x male reader #chubby Steve rogers #the avengers #feederism fiction #captain america #chris evans

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transmascnaotoshirogane · 2 years

Text

honey whiskey chapter 8

annd only a few minutes off schedule! some fable lore & Really Obvious Hints I Hope U Miss

relationships; four & the twins, leg & fabe, fabe & four, fabe & impa

ao3 link; x

“So…Four, was it?”Fable frowned, sitting down at the table with her brother and the smithy. “You mentioned shadow magic? What is that?” “Well…”Four sighed, sitting up straight. “Shadow magic, it’s…it’s like dark magic, but it’s nowhere near as dangerous, I assure you.” “How do you know that it’s safe?”Legend sighed. “Look—I trust you with my life, but this is about Fable too.” “I have experience with this, bee, I know it’s safe. It just means someone in your family had shadow magic.” “Really? But how does that mix with…”Fable trailed off, gesturing to a golden scar on her hand. “Our heritage?” “How did you get that?”Four mumbled, then shook faer head. “Not important. Um. I honestly don’t know a lot about Hylia’s blood, but I know that if it was lethal or dangerous, you would have gotten hurt by it by now. But, the shadow magic is lying unused in your systems and it’s cutting off the telepathy stemming from the goddesses blood that you two have.” “So, how do we fix it?”Legend glanced at Four, frowning. Four shot the twins a smile. “We need to awaken the magic.” A silence followed, and the twins shared a look before Fable sighed and nodded as she got up. “I’ll get Impa to make us some tea. This might take a while. I’ll be back soon.” Fable headed out of the room, sighing as she made her way down the steps. She knows what shadow magic is—of course she does—but she never thought about it before now. She didn’t think she’d need to think about it. Fable let out a sigh, sinking down to sit on the floor. When she was little, she discovered that she had magic outside of the goddesses gift. Impa had taught her how to control it. She’d learned some cool little spells, but otherwise hid it. …her magic always gets stronger visiting where their parents are buried. Impa doesn’t seem to notice—that, or she doesn’t want to talk about it—so Fable never asked. She didn’t want Legend to find out. That’s her baby brother, she’s supposed to protect him from the dark. Tucking her knees up to her chest, she shut her eyes tight and hid inside her own wings, a few loose blue feathers falling from the movement. She didn’t think he would even have it, but… He does, of course he does. Fable can’t protect him from himself—she learned that the hard way, a few years ago. She’s never been able to keep things from him for long, because, while he doesn’t always show it… Her brother is smart, and almost too observant. He always knows when she’s hiding something, it’s always been like that. “Fable?” Her eyes darted up, and she let out a breath. “Four.” “Legend wanted me to check on you.”Four mumbled, sitting on the floor beside her. “Are you okay?” “...please don’t tell him, okay?” “Okay.” Fable took a sharp breath, nodding gently. “I knew about the shadow magic. I didn’t…I didn’t wanna let him know.” “How long have you known about it?” “Since…since we were about 12…maybe 13. He—He wasn’t here, then, he was…I think he said he went out to sea? He doesn’t—doesn’t talk about it a lot. Doesn’t like to. Impa taught me how to control and…hide it.” “Hide it?”Four blinked, then shook faer head as fae seemed to register something. “Why didn’t you want him to know?” “Why would I?”Fable frowned, turning to look at the other. “He has so much on his shoulders, he didn’t need to know about the cursed magic we have.” “It’s not cursed magic, I promise you that it’s not.” “How are you so sure?” Four gently grabbed her hands, looking her in the eyes. “I would never lie about something like this. You gotta believe and trust me.” Fable stayed quiet, feeling a strange sense of familiarity as the other’s vibrant but dull purple eyes stared at her. How odd.. Wait. She tilted her head. “Do your eyes always do that?” “Hm?” “I swear they were grey before…”The ‘this feels familiar’ went unsaid. She doesn’t know why Four seems familiar—but the feeling gets stronger when faer eyes seem to be purple. “It’s probably just the light.”Four mumbled, smiling and standing up, guiding her. “C’mon, let’s go back to your idiot brother. He might think we died or somethin.” “Would he really?”Fable blinked, frowning when Four nodded. Quietly, she followed the smithy back to the throne room. “Hey, Impa?”Zelda whistled, smiling when the older woman looked her way. “Am I s’posed to be able to do this?” In her hands was a dark ball of magic, forming a little bird shape. Impa frowned, shaking her head and rushing to the young princesses side. “Your highness…that could be dangerous, please be careful.” Zelda tilted her head, morphing the ball of magic into various animals before settling on a bunny, which she stared at sadly, before deep golden eyes brightened up. “Does Sheik have this too?” “I’m…not sure. Perhaps.”The violet haired woman sighed, before gently clasping Zelda’s hands in her own. “Come, princess. I will teach you to conceal this.” “But…why?” Impa’s frown remained, and she gently ruffled the young girl's hair. “It isn’t safe, your highness. Now please, come.” Zelda pouted, yet followed anyways. If Impa says it’s dangerous—it is.

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rowanaelinn · 3 years

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Slipped away - chapter one

prompt - single parent @rowaelinscourt

“It’s cold,” Fenrys complained, sitting on Rowan’s new couch.

“We are in the north, you dumbass.” Lorcan snapped. “Of course it’s colder than what you’re used to.”

“Doranelle is in the North too.”

Lorcan took a deep breath, apparently, he wasn’t feeling very patient today. “I don’t know, Fenrys, it might be because we are on a whole other continent, maybe?”

Rowan snorted at his friends, Fenrys was playing dumb just to annoy Lorcan and as always, it worked. They were enjoying their last day of rest before their first day of work tomorrow. It wasn't a new job, not really. The company they worked for had just moved from Doranelle to Orynth, and of course, Rowan and the other employees had to move too.

Rowan knew that with the opening of the new Valg Industries headquarters the next few months would not be smooth sailing, but he believed in himself. Maeve was so confident that she even promoted him. It was a new beginning for Rowan and he was happy about it, his life in Doranelle was the perfect definition of dull. Not that he hated it, he was just glad to be away from his cousins. He didn’t hate them, they were just so… meddlesome.

Rowan walked into his kitchen and opened his fridge, empty. He cursed under his breath. The few bottles of beer he had last night ran out very quickly, they didn’t even have leftovers of the pizza they ordered yesterday. Which was a problem because Rowan was starving and there was no way he would order food for the second night in a row, it had already bothered him to do so yesterday.

He checked his watch, six in the afternoon. He was pretty sure the grocery store didn’t close before seven, he had little time if he wanted to go there. He needed to be quick. “Going shopping, be gone when I come back,” Rowan told his friends as he picked his car key. He needed some time alone but he knew they would probably still be there when he came back, his friends weren’t ones to listen.

He slammed the front door behind him and got into his car. It still smelled new, the leather still a little too stiff under Rowan's body. He had gotten the car yesterday, he had decided that if he was going to change his life, he would do it all the way. Nothing in his life in Doranelle set foot in Terrasen except his friends and his job.

Rowan lived in an upscale residence in downtown Orynth. Between his family's money and the money he was making even before he was promoted, he could afford it. He didn't want to live in the apartments that the company offered to its employees, he needed some peace and quiet.

So Rowan took a house that was too big for him, in a suburb full of family, as if he wasn't almost thirty and wasn't still alone. He had never felt so out of place, but he would get used to it.

He had chosen the opposite of the life he had until then, wanting space. He had left to forget.

When he pulled into the grocery store parking lot, Rowan could have sworn he saw a familiar face. He blinked and it was gone, he shook his head. How could he recognize anyone if he had never been to Terassen? He needed to sleep.

He got out of his car and shivered slightly. Maybe Fenrys was right, it wasn't cold but it was definitely colder than Doranelle at this time of year.

He walked into the store, it was large. Everything in Terassen looked big. The houses, the buildings, the stores... Rowan could get used to it.

He took a basket from the entrance and went straight to the vegetables. The store was almost empty considering the time of day, he could hear a couple of kids laughing in the background but otherwise, everything was quiet. It felt good to be away from the world.

He selected enough vegetables for three days, preferring to shop for short periods rather than a whole week. It made less mess and allowed him to control what he ate. That's one of the things he needed, control.

"Gotcha!" He heard a woman's voice laugh rather loudly.

"Noooo!" A little girl said and Rowan heard her laugh and ran. Gods, children were loud.

A few seconds later, something hit Rowan's legs. He looked down to find a little girl. She was a brunette with blue eyes. She laughed and stood up. "Sorry," she said before running off again to lose whoever was trying to catch her, but it was too late. A tall blonde lady came running up and threw herself on top of the little girl, grabbing her under the arms and throwing her over her shoulder. The little girl screamed with laughter and tried to struggle as the adult spun around. "Stop!" the child screamed but continued to laugh.

Rowan felt like he was intruding but he couldn't stop the tip of his lips from rising slightly. The adult stopped spinning but did not let go of the child, the little one wrapped her arms around the woman's neck and hid her head. "Hey, little monster, did you apologize?" She asked, her eyes still on the little one. Rowan couldn't see her face with the hair hiding it. "Huh?" She shook the little girl slightly but she refused to look at her.

"She did," Rowan said, not wanting the little girl to get into trouble. When the woman looked at him, his heart stopped beating and his whole body froze. It was impossible.

Did the gods hate him that much? What had he done to them for them to punish him like that?

Her eyes widened and he noticed her body going still, her hold around the girl tightening. Her mouth opened and then closed.

As he had been years before, he was struck by the intensity of Aelin Galathynius’s gaze. These blue and gold eyes were mesmerizing, had always been and always will.

His only thought was that she looked older, but since he had last seen her when she was nineteen it wasn’t surprising. She looked like a woman now, and womanhood suited her. She was wearing a white shirt and black skirt, a simple outfit for a working woman, and yet Rowan couldn’t help but stare longer than necessary at her body. If she had been beautiful seven years ago, she was magnificent now.

He wanted to punch himself in the face, so much work to forget about everything that happened, so much work to ignore the guilt and pain just to be ruined by a meeting in a grocery store.

“Rowan,” she breathed.

“Hi, Aelin.”

The little girl looked at him and he noticed everything she had in common with Aelin. Her eyes first, and the same nose and lips. They looked so similar.

Suddenly he was struck by the truth standing in front of him. While it had taken everything in him to try to forget about her, Aelin had moved on. And she had a daughter. Aelin had a life and if the laugh she let out a minute before was any indication, she was happy.

“What are you doing here?” He blurted.

A snort. “What am I doing in a grocery store?”

“In Orynth.”

“This is my hometown.” She said, her voice so tight he couldn’t guess what she might be feeling. It had always been so damn hard to read her. Orynth was her hometown? How come he never knew that? He knew she was from Terassen, her accent betraying her, but didn’t know exactly where. He knew so much about her but at the same time so little. That little truth hurt. “What are you doing here?”

“I moved. For work.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Fuck, that was awkward. “How old is your daughter?” He asked, nodding toward the small girl playing with Aelin’s hair. Aelin looked at her and her expression softened a little.

“Oh, no. She isn’t my…” She took a deep breath. “She’s Aedion and Lysandra’s daughter. I’m just babysitting for the night.” Right, Aedion. That’s why the small girl looks so much like Aelin. “Remember Aedion?”

Of course, he did, last time he saw the man Rowan got his nose broken and a black eye. He wouldn’t forget his old friend so soon. But Rowan didn’t care about that, right now he only cared that Aelin, in fact, didn’t have a daughter. It was easier to breathe suddenly. “Yeah.”

“But she’s four,” Aelin said and he knew it was only so she had something to say. Talking was awkward but the silence was worse.

Before he could say anything else, someone interrupted them by hitting Aelin’s legs, hugging them. This girl was blonde, Ashryver blonde. Gods, how many children did Lysandra and Aedion have?

The youngest paused on the ground and did not waste time before leaving from where she came. Aelin seemed to forget Rowan's entire existence as she knelt down to face the child, though she looked even tenser than a few minutes before.

"Hey, pumpkin, what's going on?" She asked softly, delicately taking the girl's grip to force her to look at her. "Tell me."

"Asper pulled my hair!" The girl cried and Aelin smiled.

"Did you try to tickle his neck?" She asked, making Rowan choke. Aelin didn’t spare him a glance. He wanted to ask her why she wasn’t punishing this Asper for pulling hair but he guessed Aelin would beat him up if he questioned how Aedion chose to raise his children. “You know how sensitive he is.” She smiled at the child. The girl sniffed heavily and Aelin used her sleeve to dry her tears. "Go back over there, I'll be there in two minutes." The child nodded briskly and before she left, she turned her head to Rowan.

His blood ran cold as green eyes fixed on him.

She looked like Aelin on the little one before, of course, but not only that. Did she... No. Lysandra had green eyes too. Rowan could have sworn that Lysandra's eyes were much lighter, but he hadn't seen her in seven years. He was wrong. He had to be wrong.

"Hi!" She said with a big smile. She was missing a tooth in the front, but that didn't take away from her charm.

Rowan swallowed, "Um, Hi." He managed to smile but he couldn't help that she looked too little like Lysandra.

“Are you a grandpa?” The girl asked and Rowan choked. “Only grandpa has grey hair.” She smiled and looked proud of herself. Silver, his damn hair is silver, not grey.

"Go ahead, Helia," Aelin said before Rowan could answer, her voice firm. She pushed the little one toward the alley away from Rowan. Aelin stood up when the little one was gone and his eyes shot to hers.

"It was nice to see you again," she said but he knew she was thinking the exact opposite. Rowan's heart was beating so loudly that Rowan could hear it pounding in his ears.

"Aelin," He called to her, stopping her in her tracks. " Just how... How old is she?"

"Bye, Rowan." Her voice left no room for questions, but he didn't care. He didn't care about what happened in college and now wasn't the time to start.

"Answer me." Not a question and she knew it. He could swear he saw the gold ring in her eyes flutter, a sign he had learned to recognize as anger. Well, let her be angry, he deserved answers.

"Ace, is everything okay?" A man with nearly black hair and sapphire blue eyes asked him. A boy a little taller than Helia was sitting on the man's shoulders and when Rowan saw his green eyes...

He had to be wrong.

"Aelin?" The man asked again as Aelin hadn't looked at him yet, her gaze still on Rowan.

"Yes." She replied with her voice cold. "My friend was just leaving, right?"

The way she said the word "friend" was anything but friendly. Fuck, he wanted to yell at her, he wanted to demand answers now, but he didn't. The two little girls were behind Aelin and the man, watching what was going on.

"Answer my question first."

"Get out." She gritted through her teeth.

"Why do you have your angry voice, Mommy?" The little boy asked and suddenly Aelin's eyes softened and she looked at the boy. She grabbed him by the underarms and took him in her arms.

Mommy.

Her son.

Clearly not the son of the man next to Aelin. He looked about six, maybe even seven.

No. That was impossible. It was only one night. One night he had spent the last seven years regretting...

“Mommy’s not angry.” She smiled as she caressed her son’s hair. Their… No, her son. For all Rowan knew, Aelin only had a thing for men with green eyes. It meant nothing. “But she’s busy right now, go back to the car with uncle Dorian, okay? Then we’ll eat pizza, that’s your favorite, right?” The three kids cheered and Aelin gave her son to the man, Dorian.

“You okay?” He asked, touching Aelin’s shoulder. Rowan didn’t know why but he wanted to slap the man.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in two minutes.” She reassured him and he nodded, letting Aelin’s son on his shoulder as he held the two girls by their hands and walked back to the parking lot. Rowan wanted to stop him, wanted to ask that boy and girl how old they were but they were just kids. He couldn’t scare them. This was between Rowan and Aelin.

“I deserve the truth.”

“You don’t deserve shit. Not after what you did.”

“It was between me and you, not between me and-” He was cut off by her.

“There is nothing between you and them. Do you understand me? Nothing.” Them. So the girl…

He couldn’t take it. She had made it clear already, deep inside he knew the answer to his question but he needed to hear her say it. “Are they mine?” He finally asked and if looks could kill, Rowan would be buried already.

“They are mine.”

Why did she have to be so fucking complicated? He clenched his fists, trying to keep his anger inside him but it was so damn hard. “Am I their father?”

Both of them were breathing heavily and Rowan was glad for the empty store now, not wanting to cause a scene. “No.” Her voice was lethal and Rowan’s mind froze. He didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. But they looked so much like him… “If your question is whether or not you knocked me up, the answer is yes. But you are not a father. Never been and never will be to them.”

They were his. Rowan’s entire world stopped and he wasn’t sure how he kept standing. He was a father, no matter what Aelin said.

“How could you hide this from me? How could you take them away from me?” He was screaming now. He didn’t care about causing a scene anymore, he didn’t care about anything but the two kids in a car outside. “They are my kids!”

“You don’t even know their fucking name!” She was screaming too, cheeks red. Fuck, why did she always had to be the most attractive when she was angry? He hated her so fucking much. “I am the one who’s been raising them alone for almost seven fucking years!” She didn’t look alone, not with that Dorian by her side.

Suddenly, he knew Aedion didn’t punch him for what he and Aelin shared the last night he saw her. He had punched him for getting his cousin pregnant. He knew Aelin hadn’t been honest about what happened between them after the sex or he would have been dead by now, so now he was sure it was because of the kids. He had deserved it, deserved more than the five punches Aedion managed to give Rowan before Fenrys and Lorcan separated them.

“I will die before I let you treat my children like you treated me. Get out of Terassen, nobody wants you here.”

She left storming out of the store without her groceries and Rowan was frozen. He knew he should go back after her and apologize, he should beg her for a chance to know his kids but he couldn’t move.

He had children, twins. And Aelin had been raising them alone because of him, because of what happened.

He was so fucking screwed.

He didn’t care about what Aelin told him, he wouldn’t go anywhere. It was too late to save what could have happened between him and Aelin, it had been too late since the night she left his apartment in tears. But it wasn’t too late for his children and he would fight for them.

————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @hellasblessed

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #slipped away

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

the Other Lane.

pairing : Clark Kent x Reader

requested by: @dashingcavill [Hope you like this! 💛]

warnings: Angst with a happy ending, and a lot of fluff in the end.

A/N: Ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't help but put some major angst in here, but I swear the ending is happy and I added the right amount of feels and fluff to make it hurt less. 💛

[The Masterlist]

You often wondered if you were born to your parents only to become a commodity that could be compared to your sister, Lois , at all times. Yes, the two of you were different, she had glamourous blonde hair and sparkling blue irises that made her strike out, while you had sombre [Y/H/C] hair and dull [Y/E/C] eyes that peeked out from the tint of your glasses. If the glasses weren't enough to fit you perfectly into the category that was termed as 'nerds', the fact that you loved to bury yourself into mounds and mounds of books, and literature was sure to fit you into that bill. All that comparison, but that didn't lessen the bond that you shared with Lois though.

However, things slowly started changing, the dynamics messing up when Clark Kent came into your life, as a friend and as a colleague.

Lois worked as a reporter for Daily Planet, and you, well you were mostly working in the background, struggling to make a run with your tiny little column on relationship advises. It wasn't like you were any less intelligent, but maybe you just were okay with how everything was going.

It didn't mean that there weren't times at all when Lois made you secretly jealous. To be fair, it didn't bother you when you heard stories of how Lois got herself into trouble yet again, with none other than the Superman came to her rescue. You could still take that, considering the fact that Superman took his duty towards the civilians as his topmost priority, but when you began noticing obvious changes in your sister's behaviour when she talked to Clark, his alter ego; your colleague at work, you couldn't help but start feeling the little pangs of jealousy.

It all began subtly— starting from lingering glances at the workplace, to hands brushing with each other's, almost innocently, yet the two of them had a sparkle in their eyes when it did. At first, you decided to ignore them at work, trying your best to not run into Clark Kent while you were in your office building. The reason for this was still inexplicably strange for you. You didn't even know the man that well, yet you could do nothing in your control to keep your budding feelings for him under check. It was like, the more you avoided Clark Kent, the more you began aching to get a glimpse of him.

As the days passed, you realized that your crush on Clark was slowly getting more prominent, and you started feeling scared, dreading if there ever came a day that your secret crush on him with finally be out. To top it up a notch, you wondered how Lois will react, knowing well aware that there was something blooming between the two of them, although she had never admitted this to you herself. Also, you kept hoping that whatever this was, between Clark and Lois, it was maybe all in your head and that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't even true, and you hoped it wasn't.

Soon, days grew into weeks and weeks flew by as long months, and you realized that what you felt for Clark wasn't just a silly crush, but you were actually falling in love with the man. It was the littlest things that he did that made your heart melt. You would, sometimes, run into him in the cafeteria, where he would be filling up his mug of coffee. He was a gentleman, he would smile and greet you warmly, your eyes meeting his sparkling bright ones as he would move out of the way and insist that you went ahead first. You would often end up taking elevator rides with him, and he would make sweet small talks with you, talking to you about everything, ranging from the weather to a possible alien invasion.

The plan that you had cooked up to avoid Clark Kent went down the drain from those days onwards. Instead, you almost began running into Clark almost everyday. The gossips about Clark and Lois had, by then, died down and you couldn't help but feel relieved, relieved that maybe you had just been dreaming, and there was nothing between Lois and Clark.

"Hey [Y/N], can I borrow your turtleneck? I can't seem to find mine?"

You looked up from the book that you had been binge reading on, flustered and embarassed, as you immediately tossed the book unceremoniously into your blanket. Of course, you couldn't let your sister in on the fact that you were secretly reading the fifty shades series. She would tease the living hell out of you. And then there was the fact that you felt ashamed of the fact that you could practically imagine Clark Kent in your mind as Christian Grey, and it was making you all heated up and bothered.

Lois raised an eyebrow when she saw you red you had turned, "Are you okay? You look like a massive human sized tomato."

"Gee, Lois, thanks?" You mumbled, still reeling from the way she had suddenly barged into your bedroom, as you pushed your glasses over the bridge of your nose, "couldn't bother to knock?"

"Since when do we do these formalities?" She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, and dashed towards your closet, throwing it open as her fingers began working through the hangers, looking for what she was looking for. She was practically messing up your closet, so you sighed and decided to give her a helping hand. Abruptly, you slid out of the covers, forgetting about the novel that you had hidden underneath and the novel suddenly slipped off the side of the bed and fell to the floor, it's covering full on display.

You facepalmed, burying your face into your hands as Lois walked up to the book and picked it up, smirking obviously as she read out the title out loud just to tease you.

"Looks like my baby sister is finally growing her wings."

"Stop it, Lois. Don't embarass me," you grumbled, looking away. Instead, you dashed up to your closet and pushed her to the side, roughly pulling out your turtleneck as you handed it to her.

"Come on, [Y/N]" she laughed, shaking her head, messing up her perfectly styled blonde waves as she ran a hand through them, "We all have done this. You're not the only one. Nothing to be embarassed about. It's not like you're watching porn."

"It is technically still porn if I'm reading it," you whispered, watching her as she examined the turtleneck and smiled, as though she had pictured just the best trousers to go with it in the back of her mind as she absentmindedly replied back, "Again, sis, we all have done it."

You noticed the way she kept glancing at her phone, with a smile threatening to spill across her features. You raised your eyebrows and smacked your lips together, blinking curiously. She finally looked up and saw that you were staring at her so she grinned, "Guess who has a date tonight?"

"A date?" You asked, absentmindedly.

"Clark asked me out, [Y/N]. He is taking me to this really good Thai place that opened up in the suburbs and I just couldn't decide on what to wear!! This will just go perfectly with my jeans."

It happened so suddenly, but it still did. You felt like someone had just ripped your gut out with bare hands. You suddenly felt empty, was an understatement. You suddenly felt strange and cut off, and everything around you suddenly felt cold and distant and gloomy. You looked up at her, your earlier warmth having dissipated into a cold, dark look and you gave her a smile, biting your lip, "That's great, Lois. Have fun."

Lois noticed the way your face fell, but she couldn't understand or take the hint. She kept watching as you moved away, turning your back towards her and didn't utter another word. She parted her lips, wanting to ask her what had gone wrong suddenly, but decided not to, or rather, keep the discussion for another time. She didn't want Clark to reach before she had even gotten ready. You didn't step out of your bedroom, that night when Lois returned from her date with Clark, and Lois frowned when she saw that the lights to your bedroom were already switched off. You were a late sleeper.

Two months later,

Lois looked up from the article that she had been reading to find you enter the dining room with a breakfast plate in your hand.

"Mornin'," you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you sat down on a chair in front of her, next to your father, Sam Lane. Your father looked up from the newspaper that he was reading, and glanced at Lois who shrugged her shoulders in response and he cleared the throat.

"Honey, don't you think you've been locking yourself up in your room for long now? When was the last time you actually did something that didn't involve either the bed, or your office desk?" The cutting crispness in his voice was enough to slice through your heart, but weirdly, you felt nothing, ecen when you heard Lois gasp and mumble something to her father in protest.

"What do you want me to do, dad?" You asked, sipping your juice, your eyes fixed to your plate.

Ignoring you, Sam turned towards his elder daughter as he narrowed his eyes at her, his loud, booming voice echoing through your house, "Lois, what the hell happened at work? She just quit? And didn't even give a damn valid reason as to what on earth happened?"

"I don't know, dad. She hardly talks to me anymore," Lois replied.

You chuckled dryly to yourself, wondering when you had become so invisible to the world. You were right there with them and yet they regarded you like you weren't even there.

"It was difficult to get you job at the Daily Planet and look at you, throwing it away for whatever the hell the reason was." Your dad barked.

Your fingers clenched into a fist and Lois visibly tensed. Hurriedly, she stood up and announced that she was leaving. You stood up too, but not for work, but rather to go back to the place that you had locked yourself in for the past two months. When you reached the door, you turned around and regarded your father, mumbling, "Why would you care anyway? You never really did before."

You kicked open your room door and slammed it back shut again as you ran straight for your bed. You were trembling like a leaf trying to detach itself from the tree when you buried your face into the pillow and screamed as loudly as you could into it. You were a mess, a walking , talking, living, breathing mess.

You cried, for almost thirty minutes, until you were out of tears. You then sat up and rubbed your eye sockets, finally taking a deep breath. You were letting Clark and Lois affect you so much, you had forgotten what it was like to live normally. How were you supposed to go on like this? If you wouldn't take a command of your own life again, then how would learn to get back up on your feet? When would you learn to accept that you would never get Clark? He wasn't the one for you.

Feelings are so transient, it's like you can feel them slicing through your insides one minute, and then the other minute, you feel unrealistically numb.

With those sorts of destructive thoughts in your mind, you sneaked a bottle of whiskey that night from your father's liquor cabinet at two am at night. You rolled the window pane and snuck out onto the fire escape until you were climbing up towards the roof the building of your apartment, the bottle in tow.

You fixed yourself on the ledge, using your teeth to twist the bottle cap as you took a swig of it, feeling the warm liquid burn your relentless thirst for relief. Sip after sip, you kept staring at the starless sky, mediating your gaze from the sky down to the glittery buildings.

"Will I ever forget you, Clark Kent?" You whispered, into the thin air, laughing bitterly at yourself as you took the last sip from the bottle before it rolled away. The way the lights glimmered in front of you, and one of two cars drove past your building, looking like tiny little blinking lights from the height you were at, you realized one thing. No matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

You were lost in a turbulence of your own thoughts, so entangled into them, you didn't hear the soft thud somewhere behind you, neither the sound of the faintest footsteps that got closer to you, with every passing second. You took a sharp breath, and slowly stepped over the ledge, feeling shudders all over your frame as the winds hit you all over you. You footing, however, slipped, a sharp scream erupting from your lips as you fell backwards against gravity, your heart almost stopping.

Someone suddenly reached out towards you, gripping your wrist, leaving you hanging from the ledge, your body flailing in the air.

He pulled you with a jerk towards you, and your body hit his front, your hair falling all over your face partially covering it. You felt intoxicated, so much, that you had almost died by falling off the building but you didn't feel the scare, the only thing you felt was a sudden surge of adrenaline.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Superman growled, through gritted teeth, his eyes sparkling as you jerked you by your shoulders.

"Clark? Is -- that you?!" You slurred, holding on to his cape tight to hold you in place. You were in a weird state of mind, you could see that it was him, but you couldn't figure out if it really was him, or if it was your mind that was playing an illusion on you.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Clark fumed, still holding on to you by the low of your back. He suddenly jumped off the ledge, with you in tow, away from the edge, so the two of you were in the middle of the roof now.

"K-Kill myself? No, I.. I.." You stammered, struggling for the right words but your brain felt frozen.

"Two months, and you don't show yourself. And when I finally see you, you're trying to jump off a fucking building?!" His eyes just then fell on the empty whiskey bottle. He growled, clenching his fists tight as he let go off you and walked up to the where the bottle lay, his cape flying behind him. He bent, lifting it up as he examined it, noticing how the neck of the bottle had your lipstick imprints on it. "And you're drunk. To top it up a notch."

Your nostrils flared in an anger you hadn't experienced ever before, your secret feelings finally crushing you completely, mixed with the alcohol that was rushing through your blood. You growled, like a cornered animal, that was wounded yet didn't want to back down. You pushed him, once, twice, throwing out all your pent up anger and frustration into his steely body like he felt no hurt. You screamed, you lashed, you scratched and you cried, finally coming undone, like beads of a rosary coming apart and scattering all over the floor.

Clark's heart broke at the sight of you. He had always seen you as a strong, happy woman, always smiling for him whenever he saw you at work. And this woman, that stood in front of his eyes right now, was far from it.

"I am not weak! I wouldn't kill myself! You give yourself too much importance, to think that someone would give their life for you!" You lashed out.

You were tired of hitting him like a punching bag. He grabbed you by your wrists, holding them together in front of you, pressed against his chest. He slowly moved, so he was towering over you, his back shielding you from unwanted, prying eyes as he gazed into your eyes, trying to find the answer to where all of this was coming from.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Come on, Lois is worried about you."

You couldn't stop yourself when your hand jerked itself free from his hold, and your palm struck his cheek. There was a crackling noise, of skin against skin, and tears formed in your eyes when the realisation hit you, all the intoxication washing off of you. You had just slapped Superman, a man that could snap your neck by grabbing your throat. Yet, he just stood there, too shocked to even register that you had slapped him right across his face and what was worse, he couldn't understand the reason you had done that. Anger was surfing through his veins, but worse than the anger that he was feeling, he was feeling like someone had pulled his heart out, ripping it to shreds right in front of his eyes.

"Why?" He let go off your other hand, his own palm coming to rest against his cheek as you gave you a look full of hurt.

"Why did you even save me, Clark? You should have let me fall. Atleast, it would have spared me the pain of listening to her name flow out of your lips again."

"Why do you hate her so much? She is your sister, [Y/N] and she cares for you. She worries that you're killing yourself and she doesn't know the reason why--" Clark was losing his temper, slowly but surely. He didn't understand you and that was eating him up.

"The reason why? WHY??! Oh Clark can you stop? And listen to yourself. I love Lois, but she needs to stop trying to govern my life. I'm allowed to feel sad, I'm allowed to feel a fucking heartbreak--" You didn't realise, but your lips were trembling now, your eyes leaking salty tears. You shivered when you felt Clark hold you by your shoulders but you didn't push his arms away.

"Who broke your heart?" He whispered, his voice cracking.

"You're fucking daft for a man who saves the world--" Hissing bitterly , you pushed yourself away from Clark's grip and turned towards the ledge but this time, you didn't try anything that would risk your life. You simply revelled in the cold feeling of the wind striking your tear stained face as you took a punctured breath, feeling Clark's breath on the side of your neck.

"Who broke your heart?" He asked again, but this time it was much softer, and it made you bite down on your lip to hold yourself from breaking into a hysterical crying.

"You did, Clark. You broke my heart." You finally whispered, staring into the abyss in front of you, your eyes cloudy and your throat parched as you continued, your lips trembling, "I loved you. Always did, but you never looked at me. It was always Lois. And it killed me, watching you love her, knowing that you will never love me the way you love her--" Clark let you speak, he wanted to listen to you, for you to let it all out, all those bitter things that you had locked up inside your mind, that was slowly eating you up and killing you from the inside. "I am tired of everyone, for you, for my father and for the world to see me as the Other Lane, as Lois Lane's little sister. My name is [Y/N]. I like to draw although I am shit at it, I can sing in the showers and I hate partying. That is me. I want a normal relationship too, but it seems that the world is against me. I fell in love with one man, and turns out, he isn't even human, he is a freaking superhero from Krypton?"

Clark let out a gruff sounding snort, as he looked down at you. Reluctantly, he reached for a strand of hair that was sticking to your tear coated cheek, removing it and gently tucking it behind your ear. He felt a shudder run down your spine, with just a gentle touch of his hand and he smiled, biting his lip. How was he supposed to tell you what the truth was?

"You remember how we met at the cafeteria every morning ? And I let you take the coffee?"

You nodded, listening to him, trying to control the crying that had now turned to sniffles, as Clark kept speaking.

"And the countless times I ran into that elevator with you and me stuck inside for just two floors?"

"You must have been thinking how weird I was. How unlike Lois--" You began, but you were cut off by Clark's voice.

"I used to wonder if there was anything I could do to make the elevators stop working, so I'd get to spend more time with you. Wretched elevators, not once did anything go according to what I wanted." He mumbled, but he had a small smile playing on his lips, while you just looked on, staring at him in disbelief, wondering if your mind was playing jokes with you once again.

"I thought I would take Lois' help, to you know, figure out if you felt the same way, but you never said anything to her."

"What about the date? Lois and you went on?" You asked.

"Well, I --" he shrug, looking down at his feet, sheepishly, " Lois thought you would confess how you felt for me if we pretended to--"

You were too numb to react; so you just blinked in retaliation. Your blood ran cold, and you suddenly felt light headed. All this while, while you had secretly been pining for Clark Kent to love you back, was it actually the other way round? Was Clark going through the same thing wondering if you felt the same for him?

"That was cowardly." You hissed, through pursed lips, "Trying to pretend to be in love with my sister."

"I was in love with the other Lane," he bit his lip, his face slightly inclined towards you, so he was looking down at you, and you up at him, "I think you are amazing. You are intelligent, and smart. And you're unique. There are these little things I adore about you. The way you greeted everyone whenever I was around-- ranging from the security guard, to the building keepers at the Daily Planet.. the way you forgot to wipe your lips after drinking coffee, and you had this froth all over your upper lip giving you a faint moustache?" He chuckled because you literally let out a gasp, suddenly embarassed.

"Then there were those days you had a bad day and you locked yourself up in your cabin, working all day. I wondered if I should just knock, but I was scared you will tell me off--" he continued, his blues peeking into yours. Your stomach fluttering, you couldn't help but laugh, as though a weight had been lifted off your chest suddenly and held him steady with your hand on his arm. Finally mustering enough courage, you pushed yourself on your toes, and reached up, letting your palm graze delicately over his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb, "I would have never told you off, Clark. Though that's not what is bothering me right now."

"What is ?" He asked, innocently, relaxing under the touch of your thumb.

"You said you're in love with the other Lane, Clark."

His lips creased, slowly tugging upwards into a smile that was enough to make you feel giddy. Superman wrapped a sturdy arm around you and felt yourself being lifted off, until he was practically holding you in his arms, "Mhm, yep? You got a problem, Miss Lane? Or do Kryptonians don't fit the bill ?"

"Oh, hush, Clark. You're such a dork. But will you be.. my dork?" You bit your lip, holding on to him as though your life depended on it.

"I thought... you'd never ask?" He began, unsure of how to properly weave the complexity of his feelings , churn them into words, something only Clark Kent was good at , and not his alter ego, but found himself halted by the soft press of your index finger against his lips and the sweet whisper of your voice against his ears as he held you close.

“I know, neither did I.” You whispered as he clasped your face in his massive hands and gently touched his lips to yours.

Three years later,

This had probably been the longest that Clark Kent had been away from you, his lover, his best friend, his wife-- four months to be exact. Needless to say, he was excited to be able to see you again, to hold you again.

The familiar silhouette of the cottage on top of the hill came into his view, flowers hanging into tiny earthen pots hanging out on the front porch. The freshly painted white picket fence looked beautiful, and inviting as Lois stood with Martha by the gate, both the ladies sipping tea from their respective cups and saucers. They couldn't contain their smiles when they saw Clark, even though he was covered in what looked like grime and blown up alien intestines?

"I don't even want to know what happened," Lois chuckled, while Martha hugged her son and he kissed the side of her cheek before she scrunched up her nose in disgust at how awful he smelled.

"Well, I guess I'll draw you a bath, you two can talk out here until the baths ready." Both Clark and Lois watched as Martha Kent disappeared into the home and he smiled, when Lois spoke again.

"FYI, she is at the orchard, harvesting the apples for an apple pie," Lois gave him a smug look, fluttering her lashes, "Oh don't pretend you don't want to see her. I can see your eyes darting around, trying to find her. I'll be inside, both of you, just come back in for supper."

He nodded, watching Lois leave and slowly, his fists clenched on either of his sides, he found his way into the tiny orchard that his lovely wife loved to spend most of her time at. He fixed himself by the wooden gate, his eyes admiring you from afar, as you stood on your tiptoes and picked out apples, tossing them into the basket that you held in your arm.

"Need help, Mrs. Kent?"

The basket dropped from your hand as you turned towards the source of the voice, your lips parted in shock. Clark's eyes travelled from you down to your beautiful swollen bump that your loose maternity dress was doing nothing to hide. He chuckled at your response as he walked towards you with longer, faster steps while you simply waddled towards him.

"Jesus, Clark-- I thought you'd miss the birth," you cupped your husband's cheeks in between your swollen fingers as he nuzzled his nose against yours, before kissing you.

"How is my monkey?" He brought his palm to rest against your nine month old baby bump, stroking over the fabric as he whispered against your lips.

"Moving around, not letting me get an ounce of sleep," you smiled, letting your fingers rest over his hand that rested against your stomach, "but I cant really complain now, can I? After all the little nugget's got Kryptonian blood running through their veins."

Clark chuckled, his blue eyes crinkling slightly as he knelt down in front of you, his face in line with the base of your bump as he planted a kiss on the curve of it.

"Come on, Kal Jr, will you stop bothering your mom? She needs all the sleep she can before you push your way into the world and steal our goodnight sleeps for a while," you smiled warmly, as you peered down at him, running your fingers through his hair and he looked up at you, planting another kiss against your bump.

You suddenly frowned and looked at the brown mess on your fingers that stank.

"God, Clark? What the hell? Did you seriously take a dive in a shit pool?"

He chuckled as he pulled himself up again and his hand once again found the base of your stomach to lay his hand protectively upon.

"Alien blood. You should have seen the intestines that covered me. It looked like noddles dipped in black bean sauce and meatballs--" You smacked him hard against the chest to shut him up, but instead he began laughing, his laughter rumbling out of his stomach as you began dragging him inside with his stained cape.

#clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman #superman x reader #superman x you #kal el x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Note

Heyy!!

I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?

BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?

Just cute ackerbabies!

Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!

Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.

Word Count: 1.7K

You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.

“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.

“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,

“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.

“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”

“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”

“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.

“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.

“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.

“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.

“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.

“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.

You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.

So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.

He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.

“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.

“H-How long until...”

“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.

“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.

“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.

“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.

“Nothing’s wrong...just-”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.

“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.

“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.

“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having.

“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly.

“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office.

“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet.

The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion.

It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home.

One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease.

It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side.

“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of.

“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features.

“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue.

“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply.

“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you.

“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head.

“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing.

“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking.

“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully.

“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his.

You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else.

#hange zoe #levi ackerman #levi aot #aot fanfiction #levi x reader #armin arlert #eren jeager #eren mikasa armin #erwin smith #mikasa ackerman #levi fanfiction #levi is a dad #levi x y/n #levi x pregnant reader #levi x reader insert #levi/reader #levi x fem!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Frailty, thy name is woman! {1}

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, masturbation, mentions of miscarriage, depression, and suicide.

This is dark!doctor!Steve Rogers and soft!Peter Parker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You have an illness that can’t be seen or named. Doctor Rogers is your last chance at a cure as your loving husband tries to rediscover the woman he married.

Inspired by this ask

Note: So this went a little long and I split it into 2 but you can just pretend it’s a one shot lol. It’s set in the 1900s so keep that in mind! I hope you all like it.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Another cold morning. It started like any other. You woke in the bed, wrapped in the same woolen blanket, in the same dress you’d been wearing for more than a week. In the same spot you hadn’t left for nearly as long. You didn’t have the strength to do anything but wallow, trapped in another episode of melancholy.

You wanted to be normal, you wanted to be happy, you wanted to get up and go tell your husband to stop messing around in the kitchen so you could do your work. So you could be the wife you were supposed to be. But that desire could not fill the endless pit you felt deep in your chest.

You listened to the clink of heavy dishes and the bubbling of water over the hissing gas burner. Peter moved around in a series of groans and creaks from the floorboards. You pulled the blanket tighter, sickened by your own odor, and sniffed. You wouldn’t cry again, you couldn’t. You always felt as if the tears would fall at any moment but they never came. You just laid there, staring at the wall, curled up against the drafts that blew through the rattling window panes.

You heard the hinges and winced. Worse than letting down your husband was looking in his face and seeing it. He came around your side of the bed and sat on the edge, just against your stomach. He set down a bowl on the boxy night table, steam curling from its brim as he set a spoon against the side and clinked a cup down next to it.

You turned your face into the pillow and he touched your shoulder as he turned and bent his leg up on the mattress. He rubbed your arm gently but you felt nothing. You shivered and knotted your fingers together.

“Hey, you need to eat,” he coaxed, “please.”

You grumbled and shook your head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You said that last night,” he ran his knuckles over your cheek and bent over you, “you haven’t eaten in two days, dear.”

“I don’t care,” you pouted into the feather pillow.

“Well, I do,” he stretched his fingers over your head and rubbed your cheekbone with his thumb, “I care about you, dear. Even after everything that’s happened.”

“Why?” you asked weakly.

“Because I will always care for you. I love you, you’re my wife and we will get through this together, so please, sit up and eat for me.” His voice was brittle and threatened to shatter in the air. Your heart squeezed and you rolled onto your back.

You looked at him grimly, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry,” he pulled open the blanket and hooked his arms under yours to pull you up. He sat you against the metal headboard and took the bowl. “Just eat. I put some cinnamon in the porridge, just like you prefer, and milk in the tea. I promise, it’s not sour this time.”

You accepted the hot bowl and nestled it in your lap. You stared at the oats and wiggled your nose. “I… you shouldn’t do all this. You shouldn’t have to,” you held the bowl with your legs and covered your face, “I want to do it all so badly but--” you blinked away the tears and wiped your cheeks as you dropped your hands back to the dish, “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you want to,” he grabbed the spoon and scooped up some oats, “and I want to help you do that but I can’t unless you help me.”

You let him feed you a mouthful. Just like everything else, it was bland, you barely even felt the heat.

“I’m trying--”

He hushed you and fed you some more. He focused on the task until the bowl was empty and your stomach felt painfully heavy. He placed the bowl back beside the porcelain and handed you the tea.

“I need you to listen to me, dear,” he said, “please and understand this is for your own good. To help you be the wife you once were.”

You held the cup with both hands and watched him over the brim. You gulped. Would he send you to one of those sanitariums where women never came back the same, if at all?

“Please, don’t send me away. You can’t! Please,” you begged and nearly spilled the tea.

“No, no, I… couldn’t,” he touched your elbow gently, “but I’ve been asking around and I’ve found a physician.”

“A physician? Oh, Peter, the last one laughed me out of the room,” you moped, “and the one before him yelled at me so horribly. I cannot do it again.”

“I know, I know,” he played with a fold along his sleeve, “but this one specialises in women’s issues. I’ve heard positive things about him and I think you should talk to him.”

“I don’t know,” you sipped the tea, it was acidic but thin.

Peter was silent as he hung his head. He grasped his knees and his jaw ticked. He heaved and closed his eyes. “I can’t let you die in here. I can’t--” his voice cracked, “please, just try this for me, dear.” He opened his eyes and looked at you, his warm brown irises were desperate, “It would kill me too.”

You lowered your chin and peered into the mug, errant leaves floating in the tea. You exhaled and gulped.

“I’ve made the appointment for noon.”

“I… I’m unready. My hair, my dress… I am unbathed.”

“You have time and I will help you,” he ran his hand up your leg smoothly, “and if you want me in the office with you, I will be there, and if you want me away, I will go.”

You thought and took another drink. You leaned back on the whiny headboard and blinked at Peter.

“You really think he can help me?”

“I’ve got to hope. It’s all I got,” he said as he opened his hands helplessly, “I believe in you. You’re still the woman I fell in love with.”

🩺

Peter helped you wash and dress. You picked the grey dress with the buttons down the front and the straight sleeves. You hid your hair under a black hat and teetered on the low heels of your boots. You felt like an imposter, like anyone could see through your disguise to the horrid creature beneath.

He drove you uptown in the one-horse buggy and the old steed moved slowly through the mud and cobbles.

You felt a sudden storm of guilt as he drew up to the brick front of the office and tied up the horse. He did everything, he worked at the laboratory as an lowly assistant, expected only to dispose of the refuse and wipe the countertops, then came home and did your chores for you. He worked hard for the little money you had and now he was spending it on another doctor to fix your irreparable mind.

He helped you out of the buggy with his hand on yours and you pulled your short cape closer as you huddled down against the collar. He led you to the front door of the shared offices and up the three flights to the door marked ‘Dr. Steven Rogers, physician’.

You wrung your hands as you entered and glanced around as Peter gave your name and the time of your appointment. You were surprised to find that your husband was the only male in the room. He led you to a bench and sat with you, his hand on your arm as he comforted your doubts.

You listened as names were called and after more than an hour, yours finally rose from the nurse’s lips. You stood as Peter did too. “Do you want me here or with you?” he asked.

“I…” your heart raced as you looked between him and the nurse, “I suppose I should do it myself.”

“I’ll be out here. You send for me if you need,” he squeezed your hand one last time and watched you go.

The nurse smiled at you but you couldn’t return the gesture. You were terrified. You had seen so many doctors and each one gave the same answers; there was nothing wrong with you, you were only lazy, you were conjuring it all in your head, you were just another woman without sense.

You were shown into the sterile room and the nurse left your chart on the desk. You stepped up the stool and sat on the metal examination table covered in pure white linen. You waited in suspense, arguing with yourself not to flee and go back to your blanket and bed. When a knock came, you squeaked and the door opened slowly.

A man peeked inside cautiously and cleared his throat as he spotted you. “I’m coming in, miss.”

You nodded and he entered, the door clicking behind him. He greeted you with a handshake and read your name off the chart as he gave his own; Dr. Steven Rogers. He sat on the tall stool by the desk and looked at you.

His blond hair was as neat as his suit and his blue eyes were penetrating but placid. His white jacket hung from his broad shoulders and a stethoscope rounded his neck as his posture put him above most.

“You can sit on the sofa if your are more comfortable,” he gestured to the leather seat along the opposite wall, “this is just an introductory appointment, I won’t be doing any examinations.”

You pursed your lips and shifted off the table. You went to the sofa and sat, your leg shaking wildly as you tried to still it with your hand. He smiled patiently and dipped his pen in the well.

“So, we will start easy, how old are you?”

Your eyes rounded. You sputtered before you got the answer out and he nodded and scribbled on the paper. He went down a list; an previous health issues, height, weight, current prescriptions. When he finished he set aside the folder and looked at you fully.

“That’s all just formality and I don’t like my patients to feel like they’re being interrogated so we’re just going to talk. Would you like some water?”

“No, no, I’m…” you smoothed a wrinkle in your dull skirt and stared at your lap.

“You need a moment?” he dipped his head as he tried to catch your eye, “take a breath, I know it’s a lot.”

“No, I’m just… pathetic.” you murmured.

“Now, we don’t talk like that in this office,” he girded, “so why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

You sucked in a breath and your hands crawled over your skirts nervously, skittering like spiders. You could feel the dread rising and the air was thick in your lungs. You began to pant in shallow breaths and gripped the arm of the couch.

“Ma’am, ma’am,” he stood slowly and neared you, “may I sit with you?”

“Oh, oh, oh,” you moaned as you began to shake, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you wetted your dry lips with your tongue, “yes, doctor.”

He lowered himself lightly onto the cushion. He leaned forward and looked you in your face as you tried to hide from him and struggled to breathe. “I’m going to count and you breathe in time; one, two…”

You focused on the numbers and rocked back and forth until your heart slowed and your gasps petered out. He stopped his count and sat up. He stayed where he was, his hand on his thigh as you felt his gaze on you.

“So, what has been happening in your life, ma’am?” he asked.

“I’m sure my husband--”

“No, I don’t speak with husbands, I want to hear from the women themselves. You see I run a practice for women and their troubles and I cannot treat these troubles if they come from the lips of men. So you explain, in your own way, in your own time.”

You raised your shoulders and exhaled. You folded your hands and nodded. You tried to sort through all your thoughts, the blurred days, and the frightening nights.

“Today is the first I’ve left my bed in more than a week. It’s not the first time, either. It keeps happening and… I just don’t know why,” you’re voice quivered as you shrunk down in shame.

You waited in silence. You peeked over at him as you expected him to speak.

“Go on, just pretend as if you were speaking to yourself. No one else is here, you’re just going through your thoughts aloud. Sometimes when we hear them, they are clearer to us.”

“I don’t understand--” you clapped your hands.

“Close your eyes and keep talking.”

You swallowed and let your lids shut. The room disappeared and you mustered your voice. You didn’t know where to begin. So you went back to the day you married Peter. From the wedding day, to the first episode, the second, the third, you gave a brief map of the three years you’d been together. Then you braced yourself for it, the “I don’t know” and “nothing’s wrong”.

“Hmm,” he stood and you opened your eyes. He paced to the other side of the room and leaned against the table. “That’s not everything. You… have to be honest with yourself. This isn’t about me and what I think, it’s about you. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you,” you gulped.

He nodded and crossed his arms. He dropped them when he saw you frown and resumed his seat on the stool. He sat straight and watched you but held no anger or malintent in his gaze.

“Alright, then we shall go through some questions and answers. Many of my patients find a dialogue more helpful,” he said. “Now, I might ask some personal questions but remember that your answers do not go beyond these walls.”

You bit into your bottom lip and hummed your agreement. He clicked his tongue and smiled again.

“You said you’ve been married for three years, thereabouts, so when was the last time you were close with your husband?”

“Close?” you stammered.

“Intimate,” he prodded.

“Uhhh,” you squirmed and looked away.

“You are married, there is no shame in it. So?”

“Months,” you confessed, “I don’t know how many. And it isn’t as if he doesn’t try but I can’t.”

“Mhmm, and you said you have no children?”

You tensed and couldn’t answer. Your heart sank and you bent over as you hugged yourself.

“You… you’ve lost a child?” he asked softly.

You nodded and batted away tears with your lashes. You shook and grunted in frustration. You stood suddenly and stomped your foot.

“I need to go,” you hissed as you marched to the door.

Doctor Rogers was quick and held the door closed before you could reach it.

“Did he know?” he asked.

You sneered and shook your head.

“Just one?”

You trembled and tried to push his arm down. “I can’t--”

“Hey,” he grabbed your shoulders and edged you back from the door, “I’m trying to help you. You’re here to repair yourself and your marriage, you need to try and it won’t be easy but it would be worse to wallow in all that grief alone.”

“Please, Dr. Rogers, I have to--” you shoved on his arms as you sobbed, “I… I… he is my husband and I can’t give him the most precious thing he ever wanted. I can’t make him happy no matter how I try. It would be a gift if I were to die in that bed. He would be free--”

“No,” he said sharply and guided you backward, “we don’t speak like that.” He sat you down and knelt to look in your eyes, “you don’t speak to yourself like that.”

He sighed and dropped his hands to yours. He held them gently as you sniffed back the tears and hid behind the brim of your hat.

“When was the last?” he asked cautiously.

“I lost it a month and a half back. I abstained from my marital bed in hopes it might survive,” you quavered, “It did not.”

“Is there pain?”

“Now?”

“Yes?”

“At times, but in my soul,” you said.

He let you go and stood, “and how do you sleep?”

“Not much. I cannot. I only lay and stare and wish.”

“Mm, well, I have some things for you to do but they are easy and I do not want you to stress yourself. If you cannot do all, then some.” He sat on his stool again and picked up a small pad. “I will prescribe you a medicine you can put in your tea, it will aid in your sleep and that it the foundation of healing. Then, there are only small things; when your husband comes to you, affectionately, you will let him kiss you, just on the cheek if you wish, but if he cares as you say, you will let him.”

You listened and fidgeted as he spoke.

“And you will do things for yourself and for your children. If you feel like you can make a dinner, do so, if not, you will take a journal and write. These words are only for your. You will write about those you’ve lost so that they may rest and you will too. For every chore you cannot complete, you will write one sentence, or one page, or as many as you need to.”

“What do I write?”

“Whatever you think. Whatever weighs on your heart at that moment. And you will come back to me in two weeks to go over all you’ve done and I have faith that you will make great progress.”

He stood and tore free a page. He neared and held it out to you. “Take this to the apothecary and they will fill it. One drop in your tea, two if it is an especially bad night.”

You took it and rose. You folded it and tucked it into your handbag. You looked up at him and adjusted your cape.

“I’m sorry, doctor, I will try.”

“You will start by not apologizing for yourself. You have a right to feel and be. And try is all I ask.”

He smiled and turned to stride across the office. He opened the door and bent his head.

“Now, I hope a peaceful day awaits you and don’t forget, two weeks. You will make an appointment at the desk before you go.”

🩺

The drive through the city was quiet as Peter watched you worried from the corner of his eye. He didn’t dare to ask how it went as you hadn’t yet said a word but to tell him to stop at the pharmacy. With the vial in hand, he took your home and sat you at the table as he made another pot of tea.

He sat with you and sipped his own cup as you stared at the reddish brown brew. You lifted the vial and read the hand-written label. It was too early to sleep. You put it down and looked at Peter.

“It was… not bad,” you said slowly.

He perked up and sat forward on his chair. “Was he nice?”

“Very nice,” you felt the hot porcelain, “he listened.”

“And the medicine?” he looked at the vial.

“For sleep.”

“That’s good,” he uttered nervously, “you’re going back, right, dear?”

“Yes, two weeks,” you said, “I hope. I…” you looked at him glumly, “I’m going to try. I want to try.”

“I know,” he reached across the table and took your hand, “and I can help. I only want to help.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand. It was rough against your dry skin. You felt as if your body was falling apart from neglect. Your nails were peeling and cracked at the tips. You turned his hand so you did not have to see them.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

You lifted your head and searched his face. You tried to smile but it was small.

“Please,” you whispered.

He came around and bent to kiss your forehead, then your cheek. You stood and shyly looped your arms around him. He held you tentatively and as you leaned into him, he relaxed. You were relieved to find the warmth was still there.

🩺

That night, Peter put you to bed and laid beside you. You wore a proper nightgown and the tincture dragged you down in a deep dreamless slumber. When you woke, you didn’t want to get out of bed but if you stayed, you’d feel worse. You dressed and Peter didn’t hide his joy as he readied for a day at the lab.

You ate together, more porridge and he left you with another kiss. When he was gone, you stared at the wall. You took the dishes and boiled water to wash them in the basin. There were only a few so your work was easy. You thought of wiping down the stove but once more felt the lethargic weight on your chest.

So you went to the bedroom and dug out the old recipe book your mother bought you as a wedding present. You hadn’t used it so the pages remained blank but for a single list of ingredients for stuffed duck. You tore out that page and wrote the date on the next.

You sat at the vanity you never used. Peter bought it after your first episode, thinking it might help you to have the mirror and place to store your toiletries. You held open the pages and dipped the pen into the shallow well. Most of the ink had dried up. You made a blotch on the paper as you tried to think of what to write.

You stayed like that and inked the pen again. Then you wrote the name. The name of the daughter you lost. Peter didn’t know that name and you never dared to speak it. She was the first one, at least, you wanted it to be a girl. You wrote that you wanted her to have Peter’s eyes and his sweetness. You wrote about him holding her and smiling down at her. Then, you shut the book and dropped the pen.

You began to sob and leaned on the vanity. You let out horrible, draining wails. You quaked until you had no strength left. You stood and watched your feet as you went to the bed and fell onto it. It hurt so much.

🩺

You tried to follow Dr. Rogers advice, tried to keep to your chores and your writing, but your renewed vigour faded by your next appointment. That morning wasn’t as hard as the first but Peter had to convince you to leave the house. He couldn’t wait for you as he was due at the lab but he gave you coin for your ride back..

You sat in the hushed waiting room and stared at the wall. The other women chatted with their neighbour or read the penny weekly’s left out for the patients. You rubbed your gloved hands together and counted your breaths. You felt that tidal again, the rising wave of nerves rising within.

When your name was called, you were taken to the same room and the same chart was left on the desk. You sat on the sofa but your restlessness had you back up on your feet and pacing. When the door opened again, you turned and stopped as Dr. Rogers entered with a knock.

“Hello, again,” he offered another stiff handshake and you accepted it meekly as you crossed the room, “and how are you this morning?”

You let out a breath and shrugged, “well as I can be.”

“Please, sit, and we can go over the last two weeks,” he waved to the leather bench and sat on his stool. He ignored the chart as he slung one leg over the other. He waited for you to lower yourself onto the couch and watched your hands you wrung them, “would you like some water? A tea?”

“No, thank you, Doctor,” you tapped your heels nervously.

“You’re anxious,” he said. You nodded and he did the same, “why? Did our last appointment go so poorly?”

You shook your head and stilled your fingers, “I don’t know why I am alight, but I am.”

“Mhmm,” he tapped his fingertips on the desk as he leaned his arm against it, “and your home life, has it changed at all?”

“I… I try to do more but it’s difficult,” you admitted, “I get so overwhelmed.”

“Have you written at all?”

“Some but… it makes me sad,” you explained as you folded a wrinkle in your skirt, “I find myself as I was, in bed with a hole in my heart.”

He considered and scratched his chin, his clean shave smooth beneath his fingers. “Your husband, he is… affectionate?” When you affirmed the question, he continued, “and you have made yourself open to him?”

“Kiss, hand-holding, embraces, but… I cannot…” you squirmed, “I cannot even make him feel as my husband.”

“You have a lot of emotions but speaking of them makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” he uncrossed his legs and sat up straight.

“They feel like excuses, like a delusion I’ve made up to escape my life,” you stared at the floor, “like I’ve lied not only to myself but the man I love.”

“You’ve seen other physicians for your maladies?”

“Several, yes.”

“And what did they tell you?”

“They told me I was healthy and that my emotions were of my own failure,” you poked your palm with your nail, “and I couldn’t claim they were wrong for I don’t know myself.”

“Do you take exercise?” he asked.

“Not often, not anymore,” you replied evasively.

“You go out in the sun? Open the windows?”

“No,” you muttered, “no…”

“I would suggest thought it is with your own will to take it that you leave the house once a day, for a few minutes, for an hour, whatever you can do, and just walk. You don’t have to go anywhere but I want you to see the sun and keep your blood moving.” he stood and cleared his throat, “perhaps you cannot see it or you will not accept it, but you are doing well. You’ve made progress. If I am being quite honest, I did not expect a second visit and that in itself is a feat.”

You pressed your lips together and shifted. He went to the end of the examination table and looked you over.

“Now, as this is our second visit and we’ve gone over the basics, it is my usual practice to administer a physical exam but if your are unprepared, we can delay it until your third appointment,” he said cautiously, “but as you’ve disclosed your difficulties with conception, I do think it pertinent that I rule out any biological barriers.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you sucked in air. The only man who had ever seen beyond your dress was your husband and even with him you were shy. Still, he was a doctor and he might be able to help. You doubted yourself knowing that if you had time to think on it, you would refuse it altogether.

“If you advise it,” you stood rigidly, “I would permit it.”

He bowed his head and pulled the corner of the sheet taut on the table. He backed away and smoothed his white jacket as he went to the door.

“You only need remove your under garments and I will return in a moment. You will lay on the table and I will do a brief exam of your anatomy,” he guided, “Is this to your acceptance.”

“Doctor,” you said and watched him go, releasing a sigh when he was on the other side of the door.

You removed your leggings and drawers and folded them. You climbed onto the table and laid on your bad, your legs clenched together as your skirts felt thinner. You waited and tried to ease your nerves. The knock at the door spiked your pulse and you assured Dr. Rogers you were ready.

He entered and you listened to him move around. You squeezed your eyes shut and he neared the table. You quivered as he came near and his hand settled on the hem of your skirt. He stood at the foot of the table and his shadow coloured your eyelids.

“We’ll take it one step at a time, I will let you know everything I do before I do it,” he assured you, “now, I’m going to have you bend your legs.”

You nodded and kept your eyes closed and bent your legs. He touched your knees through the layers gently.

“Now part them,” he coaxed.

That was harder and as you obeyed, you felt a rush of air slip up your skirts. Your dress rustled and Dr. Rogers held the hem firm.

“I will now have a look,” you heard metal and flinched, “and I will use a special tool to do so. You will feel perhaps a cold touch and some pressure inside but I will be quick.”

You only nodded and gripped the sides of the table. He lifted your skirts entirely and you gasped. You felt the metal instrument on your most intimate part and he pressed it until it was slightly inside of you. He bent over you as he opened you up with the tool and removed it almost as suddenly as he’d applied it.

“Well, I see no abnormalities,” he set the instrument aside and fixed your skirts, “nothing which would cause difficulty.”

You sat up and turned your legs over the edge of the table. You felt your cheeks burn but he seemed entirely unbothered. You reminded yourself how usual the practice must have been for him.

“I would also recommend smelling salts if you do not already use them for when you feel faint or overcome and I will have a diet plan for you to take with you. Those might help improve your condition as well. I think for now,” he neared the door and paused with his hand on the handle, “that is enough change. It isn’t about pushing yourself, it is about little steps.”

“Thank you, doctor,” you said.

“And if you require anything, you needn’t wait for your next appointment. If you have questions, you may come in and ask,” he turned the handle slowly, “along with all we’ve gone over today, you will continue on with what we established since our first appointment.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He smiled and left you again. You slid off the table and reached for your undergarments. You dressed quickly and as you stepped out, Dr. Rogers bid you farewell. You hoped he could help you, that this wasn’t another lost cause.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #peter parker #steve rogers x reader #peter parker x reader #two shot #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #doctor au #mcu #marvel #spider-man #captain america #1900s #read the warnings #and don't be bitchin in my kitchen

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