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helenazbmrskai · 1 month ago

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Han Jisung // gifted comfort 🎁

Note // This is entirely my indulgent fic for the holidays, it marks the day I post my first skz fanfic, have a good read!

Pairing [Han Jisung x avoidant attachment type! Reader]

Genre [Christmas AU, hurt and comfort, fluff, angst, smut]

Summary [You ask your friend to accompany you to a dreadful family reunion and the catch is that you rejected his confession but he's not one to give up when he knows your refusal is not for the lack of interest. Things might work out better than he expected right on your childhood bed.]

Warnings [family disharmony, anxiety and implied rocky relationship with the reader's dad, smut (handjob, sub!han, sexual intercourse)]

Rating [+18, smut]

Han reaches for your hand to stop the shaking of it momentarily. His thumb rolls over your knuckles enthralling a sense of comfort and you try hard to relax. ”Take in a deep breath cheeks.” The nickname at the end makes you smile. You close your eyes and exhale slowly, in the darkness you can only feel his warm hands one holding your hand and the other wrapping around your waist. It’s a small familiar bubble he created just outside your parent’s front porch driving away all the bad memories that keep coming back the more you get close to your childhood home.

It has been a dread to come home but with Jisung glued to your side, you listen to the small voice in your head that he- he might be able to keep you sane until it’s past Christmas. The knots in your stomach subside a bit that had you in a twist for a couple of days now. ”I think I will be sick.” Unsure how to express the feelings that overwhelm you if you had to summarise it you would say it’s similar to rocks sitting on your chest.

”It’s just the nerves, honey, you will be fine I’ll be here with you.” You don’t doubt him, he’s been your unshakeable pillar for years what concerns you is not that your family will hurt you but that they will hurt him.

”We talked about this. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Sensing your uptight shoulders and rigid posture Han can tell that you’re overthinking again in your head. Just like he always does when you get like that he pulls you close and rests your foreheads together so that you can see only him in your eyes.

He gets you to look at him effortlessly by now, one finger moves under your chin with practised ease and tilts your face up. ”Tell me what you’re truly afraid of.”

You bite your lip in discontent, you hate when he knows exactly when you’re about to lie about something.

”I hate how well you know me.” It’s just a few words whispered to no one in particular but he hears you, like always. He chuckles at your antics. Feels it how you relax in his hold. His knowing smirk is all you need to know this is what his plan was all along. With renewed intent, he cups your cheek and smiles seeing your annoyed look.

”You might hate it now but I’ll make sure you’ll love it someday.” You wince remembering the conversation that you had a week before. You know it was not his intention to plant seeds of guilt but you cannot help this gnawing feeling you have ever since you rejected him. He’s a great guy, the best to be honest he’s the one who makes you the happiest and you love spending time with him it’s just that you have this fear about your relationship. You know that he deserves someone who could be more emotionally available.

”I’m sorry.” It’s an impulsed apology and Han wants none of it. You talked it through after you rejected him and he took note of your uncertainty and decided to give you space to think but that doesn’t mean he has given up on you.

”Don’t apologise sweets. Just because I love you it doesn’t mean you have to feel any guilt for it.”

So sweet. Always the gentleman when it comes to you, he has the patience like an endless ocean and uses it all on you.

”Still-” You stop talking when his thumb frees your lower lip, he hates it when you bite it because it often bruises and you complain that it hurts while you eat. ”It’s not because I don’t l-” unable to say „love” you correct it. ”Like you.”

”I know that so don’t worry.” You hum in a moment of agreement and let your nerves subside a bit. It helps that Han is waiting for you patiently, he knows so well when you need his touch and when you need space. Afraid that you got spotted after standing on the porch for a long time you look around for any eyes but thankfully there’s none and you’re still alone in this bubble he created for you.

”Don’t think I forgot about what we were talking about. Tell me what’s on your mind. We’re not going anywhere until you let me in here.” Han playfully pokes the side of your head and you swat it away like he expected with a roll of your eyes. He’s real good at changing up the atmosphere whenever you need it.

”Hah, okay. I guess I’m just afraid after you meet with my parents you will change your mind and leave me after you realise I’m not worth the effort.” It’s out in the open you can’t bear to look at his reaction so you look down ashamed.

”That’s not going to happen. You are worth all the effort I’m putting into our relationship. I know you’re trying on your own as well so there’s nothing to be worried about.” It’s reassuring to hear him say it in such a convincing tone. You happily melt into his arms as he hugs you close.

Finally feeling ready enough to face the family.

”Are you going to come in or you will talk here for ’nother hour?” You jump out of Jisung’s arms when you hear your father’s voice. Breaking this perfect moment with his horrible timing to announce his presence. He had his usual scowl on his face – not that he ever had anything nice to say. Your hand visibly shakes as you press it to your side greeting your father. Jisung gets ahold of your hand and smiles gently at your father. He greets him with respect and you witness their awkward handshake but rather civil considering your dad’s temper. Once your mother shows up the tension in your shoulder eases up a bit.

She is more welcoming when she introduces herself to Han. You hold onto his hand like a lifeline as you get inside.

The interior hasn’t changed much since you were a kid maybe a few things were repaired and changed up here and there. The house itself is not too big so it doesn’t need a tour per se but you still offer Han to show him around.

Your mother approves of it as she still has a few things to do before dinner is ready and your father retires to the main bedroom to continue his show leaving you to your devices. Good to know that some things just never change around here.

”Glad that you’re here y/n. Get some rest and I’ll call you two when the food is ready.” Your mother shows the both of you a reserved smile but there’s affection for you in her gaze Han can see it.

It’s no surprise that you cannot show how you feel as there’s much in the household that cannot be expressed.

He can see why you were worried but in his eyes, your image will not change due to this. Your parents are not you and in the end, he should be grateful that he could meet you thanks to them bringing you to the world.

Han looks around the house with interest as you guide him a step ahead, his eye occasionally catching on a family picture on the cabinet but the most attention he pays to is how your room is decorated.

Your Scooby Doo’s bedding is adorable and he takes note of the posters you have of celebrities on your wall, males of course. He takes note of your tastes even if it’s limited to your teenage years this was the room that you spent the most time in. It makes him feel good that you let him into such an intimate space of yours. Whilst he’s grateful he can’t help his teasing though as you have the best reactions. You look so beautiful shy and red all over as you try to hide some plush bears.

”It’s been a while since I was here, okay? Don’t laugh at me, I bet your room is no better than this.” You visibly sulk at his enjoyment.

”I’ll show you my room next time.” You blush at what he’s hinting at and you cannot say that you don’t welcome this warm feeling. When Han sees that you’re not opposed to the idea he approaches you.

”My mom will absolutely adore you. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” You mirror his relaxed smile and let him pull you into a hug. You hum not in agreement or disagreement to keep the serenity of it. You don’t dare to look too hopeful even if his words of your futures together sound tempting when he envisions it. You like to hear him tell you about future events and plans it’s nice that he sees every image with you in the picture. It’s nice it feels like between his arms you belong.

Ever since he confessed his love to you there’s this tension a certain mood shift you feel between the two of you. It started to get to you but now it feels like it will consume you if you don’t say anything.

”What will you do if I say I wanted to kiss you?” Nervously curious there are newly formed knots in your stomach but this time it’s not anxiety that has you biting your lips as you anticipate the answer to your very bold question.

Jisung looks taken aback by your sudden boldness. It’s not that he couldn’t sense this tension in the air he decided not to act on it after your rejection. It hurt him but did not deter him from trying again especially since he knows you feel the same. He’s hopeful that you mean it but even if you don’t he’s not going to say no to you.

”I would say you can kiss me anytime.” Still unsure how to thread into his uncharted territory he gives you all the control. If you wanted to kiss him you can if you wanted to take it back and forget about it he would do it but it would be a lie since he wouldn’t be able to forget anything about you. He just likes you so much that you wrapped him around your pinky finger effortlessly. It does hurt his ego. You had his heart for a very long time now and it’s time you realise your power over him. You can feel it, his resolve weakening as your breaths mingle when you draw closer. His eyes visibly drop down to your lips frowns when he sees you bite your lip again.

”Where’s your self-preservation, huh? What if I asked to have sex?” You withdraw and he doesn’t like it he’s been anticipating that hypothetical kiss that you sweetly promised with your daring eyes. He was so close to it. You don’t look frightened like usual when anything remotely romantic comes up and that gives him the courage to be honest with you as well. He draws you back into his space.

”I would say we can have sex if you wanted.” A part of you expected him to change the subject or crack a joke but he remains serious as he looks at you under his hooded eyes. You’re speechless.

”Jisung. We’re at my parents.” You lower your voice to indicate that you can get closer to getting caught with each passing minute. Dinner could be ready anytime soon. Jisung just laughs at your scandalised face the tension eases a bit but he’s not letting it completely get lost as he grips your waist lovingly his hold tightens as he bends to laugh directly into your neck taking up your space. You realise he’s checking your reactions to his touch and closeness. See if you will laugh with him and push him away. Jisung is in desperate need of your attention and you talking about having sex with him is not lost on him it put him in a predicament. Afraid that you might never ask him again he catches himself becoming impatient. He imagined it. He wants it but only if you do too.

”You’re right. I’m sorry for acting this way.” He catches himself a moment later as he withdraws from your neck. You rejected him not that long ago so he swore to move at snail's speed with you building up his next confession but here he is – getting greedy. You’re torn if you should stop him from getting farther away or if you require space to think clearly. Both of you are getting lost in your thoughts. You can tell he tries to compose himself thinking that you won’t read the need from his eyes that look back at you. You want to say something, anything but-

”The food is ready.” A single hard knock interrupts you before you can say anything. Yes or no, you’re unsure. Yelling back a ’be right there’ so your mother could hear you. You deserve a pat on your back for your voice coming out clearly. You know you should say something first before Jisung misunderstands you.

”Let’s talk about this again later, shall we?” An encouraging smile and a melting heart eye is all you can do to convey your sincere heart. While having doubts about where it could all lead – these feelings are growing too much for you to ignore. You can’t help but chase after this love that he’s capable of giving.

”-Alright.”

You can tell he has something to say. Maybe to reassure you he’s not here to make your choices. If you said the word you know he could wait more if not forever for you to come around. Ever since you knew him he’s always been relentless. If there was anything he wanted he kept chasing it. He never failed to claim anything he wanted so far – and it seems like you won’t be the first exception.

He did capture you in the end.

Jisung follows you to the dining room and while you expect it to be awkward with you sitting in front of your dad with your sister present and more people around you, you are able to relax more into your seat.

There’s silence breaking chit-chat here and there your mother mostly asking questions about your days and your sister’s laced with some Christmas music playing in the background. You’re surprised that Jisung talks with your dad a few words – thankfully at his best behaviour considering there are outsiders at the dinner table – you catch up with your sister’s husband a bit before you make sure he’s included in your conversation.

Feeling touched that he accompanied you even though he doesn’t know anyone here you find his hand under the table and thread your fingers together. He stops mid-conversation his hand grabbing onto you firmly to show you he’s here with you. There’s an unusual smile on everyone’s faces throughout the dinner.

This is the most peaceful it has been in ages.

”He’s a catch.” You jolt when you hear your sister whisper the words into your ear with dirty plates in your hand. You assured Jisung that he could shower first as you would take care of the dishes first. This might be the first time you separated from him but you calmed down enough that you don’t feel dread by it. It’s the perfect time for your sister to start her little inquiry. She caught you in a corner and you smile warmly at her as she asks you about him. Everyone else retreated to their rooms.

”Yeah, he’s good to me.” Your smile is incriminating that your sister knows by now that you’re head over heels for him.

”I can see that. He likes you so much. He couldn’t look away from you the entire time.” Her teasing is hammering home especially after you remember that you still have a conversation to touch upon later tonight.

”Enough about me. What about you? Everything alright?” She nods with a smile.

”Very peaceful now that we have our house.” You can imagine that.

It’s been a while since you last talked so you try to catch up in a few before you both head to bed. Once you enter your room Jisung is already lying on your bed freshly showered with a book in his hands. The day is catching up to you it seems as you nip a yawn at the bud. The day’s anxiety leaves your body at once now that the tiring socialising is over, you book it as a success without incidents.

”Everything’s alright?” You hum an affirmative into his t-shirt your legs and hands trapping him in a hug.

”Tired? You’re awfully cuddly.” Jisung giggles at how cute you are right now his hand absentmindedly goes to play with your hair and you further relax into his chest. You know you should get up and shower but this position is too comfy for you to move just yet. He smells like your soap. It awakens a weird sense of possessiveness in you.

”Not tired. I think we have a thing or two to discuss.” You push yourself above him positioned so that your palms are keeping you up next to his head planted onto the sheets. He visibly gulps at your sudden change in mood.

You oddly feel unrestrained.

”I guess we do.” It’s maddening when he shows you a boyish grin. His hand rests on your hip basking in your proximity. You lower your face until it’s inches away – he’s anticipating your kiss with eagerness, eyes already hooded and lips parted slightly in a sensual way. You know he’s waiting for it.

”You said I can kiss you anytime I want.” He confirms it with an annoyed huff. You pulled away just before your lips could touch.

”I did.” You’re teasing him and he doesn’t like it as he’s been anticipating it so much, you’re so close yet so far away that it’s agonising. Yet he can’t do anything about it. He closes his eyes in frustration before opening it again to look at you with such want that surely stirs something in the pit of your stomach.

You can do anything and he would wait until you decide he can have it.

”Said we can have sex if I wanted?” You’re repeating his words but his ears uncharacteristically turn red in the meantime.

”I d-did say that.”

It’s so unfamiliar, this shift that’s happening right this moment. You’re the one who’s insecure most of the time, sometimes gloomy and hard to handle but he always treats you right with confidence.

Hearing his stutter is a sign that you can sometimes steal his confidence.

”Please give me a kiss.” Jisung carefully cups your face pressing you close to his body, his beginning is music to your ears. You lean closer just to tease him a bit more which earns a pout from him.

You kiss his jaw and when he lets out a surprised sigh you kiss his pout away, pressing your lips to his awaiting ones.

”Hmn.” The sounds he lets out are stirring. You want to tell him to keep quiet since you’re still in your parent’s house but he recaptures your lips before you can say anything. ”A bit more, please.”

He keeps pressing, begging and kissing as if you will let him go any moment. As if he will never get to taste your mouth keeps pushing his lips against yours, moulding it hotly, lips fitting perfectly as he slowly holds you close to him. There’s a longing desperation in his actions.

Hums, moans and begs.

He drives you wild with his words and sounds.

Even though you love to hear him you’re prone to get caught if this continues so you have to tear yourself away from his mouth to recapture his attention. His glassy eyes manage to focus on you.

”Be quiet.” Jisung looks away shyly ashamed of how turned on he is just because of a few kisses. You looking down at him sternly doesn’t help. You didn’t even use your tongue yet and he’s so into it. Even if he’s ashamed of his reactions he can’t help but nod in hope that you will continue if he obeys. ”Think you can be quiet Sungie?”

He knows by now that you’re teasing him. The nickname. It’s so rare for you to use and to hear it in such a context. ”I can.” He’s completely lost to you. He wants you so bad it’s physically paining him. He doesn’t care if it’s in your childhood bed in your parent’s house or if you want to forget about it in the morning. He needs it now. Want to feel your hands and mouth all over his body.

”I’m sorry but can you help me? Honey?” He’s aching it doesn’t feel as good when he touches his cock through his pants like it used to. Even with you watching his rubbing motions it’s not nearly enough.

He knows he’s being shameless and impatient.

”It’s okay to want things from me. You don’t need to say sorry. I know our case is special as I have many issues to deal with- but you never have to apologise for seeking my affection or touch.” It’s a rare show of vulnerability in your voice and Han soaks it in, relieved that you don’t think he’s being pushy and impatient. He always wants you to have everything so it’s hard for him to ask you to fulfill his desires.

”It’s okay even if what I want is you?” It’s out before he could think. His second confession. He got rejected not too long ago yet he dared to say it again. You chuckle at the visible panic on his face, you can tell he’s waiting for you to pull away to say no.

You’re tired of fighting it.

”It’s okay for you to love me. I want it. Your love.” His heart leaps to his throat when he hears you finally accept his confession. You seal it with your lips against him this time neither of you shies away as you deepen it with your intertwined tongues.

”Thank you, thank you, thank you-” It comes out in gasps as your hand travels under his pants in the heat of the moment, your lips never falter as he presses the words into your mouth, and your fingers grip his length until you’re unsure if he’s thankful for you accepting his confession or if it is a reply to his desire to touch his cock. Either way, you’re here to please, it might not mean much but you always wanted to thank him for caring for you and this presents a great opportunity to do so.

It’s a bit tricky but you make the best of it due to the limited space, moving with the impatient rock of his hip you have a firm grip on him that looks to be just the extra push he needs. ”Feel ’so good- hmn, don’t stop.” Wordlessly you continue to go up and down his cock getting the extra wetness all over him.

He tugs his sweatpants down his hips so that his cock can be uncovered with more room for you to move and pick up the speed of your pumps. His unbecoming is near and what a mess he is almost as messy and sloppy as his cock is wet and squelching in your hands. His heavy breathing indicates it’s getting harder for him to control his moans it takes a high pitch when you get the right angle.

His cock is bigger than you expected, the producing veins and the grith everything is pretty about him. Curious if he would taste good you lean down to take the tip into your mouth when he pulls your head back a loud whining voice is filled with panic at your actions. ”D-don’t, if you do I don’t know if I could l-last.”

”Alright, if you don’t want to cum, then where you would like it?” You share a short sweet kiss before you straddle his lap.

”Do you want to cum inside? It might be the less messy option.” Whilst you nonchalantly ponder over the options Han is falling apart beneath you. It’s the closest you’ve ever been to each other.

He can feel your wetness rubbing up on him bare.

”What d- do you want?” Always the gentleman. Sharing a few kisses you align him with your opening.

”Of course I want you to cum inside. I have protection so you don’t need to worry about kids.” Han nods at your suggestion very eager to feel you around him if the twitching of his cock is any indication.

”What about you? Do you want it?” His hands grip your hips in anticipation. It tightens around you when you slowly sink to the bottom the stretch is tortuous as your walls clamp around him trying to accommodate. The tight pulsing is never ending it has Jisung’s already sensitive cock swell in you ready to burst.

”I’ve been dreaming about it for so long. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this. I think I will cum soon.”

You can see that as he closes his eyes when you move his expression pained as he tries his best to keep hard for you. He wants you to get off first before he explodes but it’s hard as your hole sucks him in not letting up your tight grip on his throbbing length. The friction is delicious as you rock your hips, every vein presses against a nerve inside of you the grove of his length providing the perfect arch to reach your spot.

You’re convinced that his cock was made for you. It’s not hard for you to reach high places with the precise thrusts he delivers into you from below. Jisung aligns it with your bounces in sync gripping you by the hips, dragging you across his cock to take you on a ride. The pressure is building in your stomach until it explodes and you cum around his cock it doesn’t take more than a few more minutes for him to follow you.

His cum shoots deep inside you, flooding you with his warm cum that starts to drip out the moment his softening cock slips out of you.

You get up to get yourself clean before it can stain the bedsheets even if his begging eyes for cuddles are tempting you don’t want to start the next morning explaining to the household why you need to wash your sheets.

”I’ll quickly shower and be right back.” You place a kiss on his pouty lips, there’s a glow around him all sweaty and smooth around the edges as his expression is relaxed post-orgasm. You certainly adore this look on him.

”You can join me since I dirtied you up.” A sheepish smile is what you give him. He did take a shower merely two hours ago. You press your lips to his jaw and collarbones earning sweet little sighs from him. He makes you grow soft it’s out of your control as you can’t stop the constant touches you do.

Pushing his sweaty hair back you caress the hairs at his nape pulling him in for a longer kiss this time.

”I guess I should.” He looks too smug for someone who whined for you to put it in but you let it slide as you intertwine your fingers.

Han kisses your shoulders up to your throat it’s sweet without the urgency he had before it feels more like he’s trying to worship you. It makes your heart flutter and you can’t help but pull him up to kiss you this sweetly on the mouth as well.

”This might be my favourite Christmas so far.” You admit. Looking at his adorning eyes you can see your reflection in them. ”It’s all thanks to you.”

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #skz fanfiction #skz x reader #skz smut #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #sub han #sub han jisung #sub skz #sub stray kids #skz jisung x reader #skz fluff #skz angst

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jonnnysuh · 3 years ago

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could we get along with svt in real life?

A collaborative series by @vernonsnostrils and me (Nala)!

A/N: Lately Bee and I have been doing daily rankings for fun and we decided to share our very very specific and dumb insights with all of you. For this one we're ranking who we think could tolerate us......... <3 Warning: Dumb info ahead

NALA:

13.Wonwoo – looks scary. I also have a rbf so imagine us together omg. Everyone would think we’re vampires. No one would want to be friends with us so we’d only have each other.

12.Woozi – I feel like I know nothing about him :-( He’s an amazing musician, and does come off as a little tiny bit mischievous. I feel like Woozi is the type of guy I have every class with but then we graduate never saying a word to each other.

11. Jun – I think Jun is funny as hell but he’s so quiet. I’d want to be his friend but I wouldn’t know how to approach him. Everyone loves him tho so he has his pick of friends and it does not include me LMAO

10. Jeonghan – (this one kind of doesn't make sense bc he should be higher on the list,, but also?? i'm the one who made this list so fite me) but I think that me and him are pretty similar. We both have a side that’s devious and wants to create havoc but we’re also the mom friend that takes care of everyone and with that I feel like we’d butt heads/ be the designated parents which is EW I am 20 years old,, I'm no one's mommy YUCK.

9. Joshua – he’s also quiet but I know he has a good sense of humour!!!! Hypes up my bad ideas bc he’s not involved -- but he will be giving me a thumbs up in the sidelines. I feel like he’s the type to make me text the guy I have a crush on “Just do it. What do you have to lose?” UM my dignity??? Tf Josh.

8.DK – The human version of a “pick-me-up” He is so “no thoughts, head empty” and I am too. Let’s go cloud watching !!!!!!!!! Let’s pick flowers !!!! A good friend to text on a bad day bc he will literally tell you the most embarrassing thing that happened to him, and even though you’ve heard it before it’ll still make you laugh.

7. The8 – simple, really. He likes art and I love art. He likes fashion, I like fashion. I feel like we could talk shit together LMAO. He has the most specific roasts but they’re always on point. I need someone who’s a little bit mean in my life <3

6. Mingyu – I know I could bully him jokingly and he’d take it (bc he knows I’m joking) but it wouldn’t stop him from pouting a bit. I feel like he’d be scared of me at first LMAO. We both share the hobby of photography so my ideal day out with him is just wandering around with cameras and taking pics of things we think are beautiful. Also forcing each other to pose in front of a dirty brick wall bc “IT LOOKS COOL, TRUST ME.” “WAIT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO POSE THO” and then he’d literally have to mold me into a good pose bc I am Play-doh

5. Vernon – The calm to my crazy, convinces me not to beat someone’s ass. Walks into my room to say nothing else but “Spaghetti” and then leaves quietly. Doesn’t talk to me for 5 months but will send me a meme at 5am bc it reminded him of an inside joke we had. Live-texts his emotions to me while watching tv shows, and shares new conspiracy theories with me. He’s a little bit too chill, I need someone ready to fuck shit up.

4. S Coups – is reliable and gives good advice bc he’s also a ball of anxiety. Nags me to do the right thing. Messes with me a lot. Would stay on the phone with me if I was home alone and told him I heard a noise. Says “Calm down there’s no one there.” BUT he’d also say shit like “check under your bed”

3. Seungkwan– I feel like we’re just as annoying as each other. He has the biggest heart and is super encouraging and thoughtful. Half the time we’re joking around, and the other half we’re fighting. Very much love-hate. Capricorns and virgos are a superior duo. I said it.

2. Hoshi– all round good vibes. Chaos and Loudness matched. Doesn’t always have to be around a lot of people bc he creates the fun when it’s just us two. The kind of friend I practice flirting on and everyone’s like ??? “You’re in love with him” no bro I’m just bored… we just do this kind of shit and he is IMMUNE to my lovey antics by now.

1.Dino– We bully each other a lot but we also have each other’s backs. Definitely not ride or dies tho bc we will tell each other when the other fucked up. We are sarcastic dumb dumbs and that’s why we like each other. I feel like he would only tell me how much he cares about me on my birthday.

BEE:

13. mingyu – i literally don’t know what i would say to mingyu. “tall man” or “what up big boy.” i would be scared of him until someone taught me how not to be. like i gotta hang out with him in a group setting for three months straight until i can say hi to him when i enter a room. if i saw him i would simply just Not See Him.

12. wonwoo – like mingyu i don’t know if i’d have anything to say to him. him and mingyu both have popular high school boy personalities and that scares me.

11. josh – besides being californian, i don’t know if we’d have anything to talk about outside of in n out and traffic. he’s too pretty for me.

10. The8 – i feel like we’ve been over this for me. he’s too intellectual and polite i wouldn’t have much to say to him. but i feel like we could talk good shit about other people.

9. jun – i think i get along well with people with quiet funny personalities. like the kind where you don’t have to necessarily say anything but look at them and they’re telling you what they’re thinking. he knows that i know. so he kept reacting and looking at me. i think it’d take a while to develop a friendship though.

8. jeonghan – i wanna cause chaos with jeonghan. i want to do lots of things with jeonghan i feel like he would give me piggyback rides while sliding with his socks on the floor. he would tease me and i would be offended for five minutes while he pretends to tell me he’s sorry (he’s not).

7. dino – dino and i would be like twins building a sandcastle on the beach. that’s our vibe. like the kids you meet on vacation and play pirates with at the pool. relegated to the kids table kind of vibe.

6. scoups – he’s like the type to play catch with the stuffed animal in the room while we sit on the floor and chat. like he just arrived and is asking me about my day and picks it up from my bed and we throw it around while talking.

5. seungkwan – i think seungkwan and i could sit and talk outside on the patio when the stars are bright. like we could sit outside and stare out at the stars while i talk about my biggest dreams and don’t even need to see him to know that he thinks the world of me

4. hoshi – i see a lot of face masks. hoshi teaches me how to dance while they rest on our faces, but they keep sliding off because we’re laughing too hard. he has immaculate vibes, like the type to say “here for a good time not for a long time” but it’s an absolute lie because he’s there for both.

3. woozi – although i like to joke that he’s an evil little man, i think we could talk a lot about music and he would be very happy to teach me what he knows, and we’d spend a lot of time developing ideas and growing together.

2. vernon – he has the personality of my irl best friend, like a slightly chaotic aquarius who is horrendously hard to reach like 99% of the time. he’s the kind of guy who would try to make dinner but end up fucking it up so horribly that when i come in it’s like smoky and awful and the fire alarm is going off, so i have to air out the apartment and go get takeout and bring it home to my burned smelling apartment and eat it on the floor of the living room while binge watching a new netflix show.

1. dk – i just love the kind of joy and energy he radiates, like would be excited to do anything at all if it’s with me. would love to accompany me on any task if i just asked, like getting ice cream at 10pm and he’d know exactly what kind of flavor he’d get so it could accompany mine well when we inevitably switched halfway through the cone. saves the bottom of the cone, the chocolate tip, for me because he knows it’s my favorite.

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1025cherrystreet · 4 years ago

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order for me, please?

y/n is too anxious to order for herself at a restaurant, so harry does it for her.

disclaimer: did not proofread this, nor do i really like how i ended it. very much rushed, very much lost the plot i feel lmao. any feedback is appreciated!!!

warnings: talks about anxiety quite a lot, other than that just fluff. kinda short soz <3

Harry rubs soft circles into your side while you're cuddled into him on the couch. The light coming in from the window casts a yellow glow into the room, little rainbow beams decorate random spots in your living room from the glass.

You've been a bit anxious today. The worst part of it is that you have no clue as to why you've been so anxious. Nothing particularly stressful has occurred since you woke up, but your heart hasn't stopped racing, your breathing has been quite shaky, and your palms are clammy. Some days are just harder than others, you know this, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that it's still difficult to even get through the day sometimes.

Since the moment you woke up in Harry's warm clutch this morning, you felt off. That uncomfortable feeling in your tummy and the constricting nails that seem lodged in your throat were a not-so-warm welcome when you opened your eyes.

Having anxiety and knowing how hard it is for you, you know how hard it can be for the people around you as well. You felt guilty. You felt guilty because today was one of Harry's days off from work and he doesn't get many of them, always so busy. You didn't want to ruin what was supposed to be a good, relaxing, fun day.

But, when Harry wished you a good morning love, and you had opened your mouth to speak with glossy eyes, only to have the words get caught in your throat, he knew today wasn't a good one.

However, because Harry is such an amazing person and boyfriend, he knows how to go about handling your anxiety. He knows you. He knows that you just need a cuddle and a slow day with tea and a good meal. He knows when you start to get really worked up, you listen to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac because it reminds you of a sweet childhood memory. He knows you don't want to do much talking, but rather more watching TV. He knows you like to distract yourself on your bad days...and he knows how to do so.

So, after spending all morning and into the afternoon having tea and breakfast and taking your meds (along with a short cry), you're now cuddling on the couch mindlessly watching a movie. It's quiet in the house, the only sound coming from the television (and maybe your heart beating if Harry got close enough), but Harry swears you could be able to hear his thoughts from a mile away.

He worries about you sometimes. As does everyone who loves someone. He's never loved someone as much as he loves you and it scares him sometimes. He's not scared of falling out of love or deciding you guys aren't the best for each other, no. He's scared of not being enough for you. He knows you tell him that he's the love of your life and that he will always be enough for you, but a little part of him is scared that he might not be able to take care of you. Now, he's not saying in any way, shape, or form that he's not capable of taking care of you, because he can! He's just scared he might mess up and make your anxiety worse. He hates seeing you so out of it.

You're always the sunlight in every room, always smiling and so loving. You care so deeply for everyone around you, he admires it. He admires you. He loves you, so he hates that your mind can be mean to you at times.

See, his troubles with anxiety are far different from yours. Gratefully, his anxiety is more rational (still troubling, just more rational!) ... which is the complete opposite to yours. Your disorder is so irrational and crazy that, more often than not, you get so frustrated with yourself. Your brain makes up problems to be there that aren't there. You worry about nothing and everything all at once, feeling like you never get a break from the mental toll it has on you.

So with that, Harry hates seeing you so anxious. He knows you're so vulnerable and fragile in this state that he doesn't want to make anything worse for you, he wishes every day that he could just take all the worry and bad thoughts from your head and put them on himself instead, as long as it meant that you'd be your happy self again.

But, he knows that's not possible. He also knows that's it's okay to not be okay all the time, so he packs his wishes back into his brain and cuddles you closer. Hoping you can feel his love reverberate off every surface of this house to you.

Oddly enough, you almost feel as if you can. In your simultaneously busy yet silent mind, you can make out his affection in every circle he draws onto your skin with his fingertips, in every warm cup of tea he makes, and every sickly sweet kiss he presses onto your lips, forehead, and cheek. You know he loves you and you hope with everything that he knows you love him just as much, if not more.

With that thought running through your head, you turn to place a kiss to his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly (moth?) tattoo through his shirt. A content hum sounds from his lips and he squeezes you tighter before kissing the top of your head.

"I love you," He whispers, as if not to disturb the comfortable silence created in this space.

"I love you more," You whisper back, the tea earlier melting the nails in your throat just a little.

***

"Does Carrburritos sound good, lovie?" Harry asks, waiting on the edge of y'all's bed for you to finish getting ready.

Carrburritos is your favorite restaurant ever. Of course, you know that's why Harry chose it and the thought of him doing something as simple as that melts your heart at how sweet and thoughtful he is.

"Yeah, thank you, bubs." You respond softly, still in the fragile state you were in earlier, albeit definitely feeling better. You make your way to the edge of the bed where Harry is, slotting your body between his legs and bringing your hands up to play with the little curls on his neck.

"Alright, love. If you're ready to go, we can start to head over?" He asks, rubbing his big hands up and down along your sides.

You nod, leaning into kiss him. It's short, but your lips melt against his and no matter how many times you've kissed him, every single one still feels as magical as the first time.

The two of you get to the restaurant in 15 minutes time, settling at a table close to the window, in more of a quiet area. You feel better than you have all day, but the loud noises and the people in here are making your heart rate spike just a tad.

You and Harry talk softly about random topics, nothing about work or anything too heavy because you don't think you're able to handle that right now. You giggle at the jokes Harry will slip in ever so often and his face lights up at the sound, loving that he can make you feel comfortable after having such a hard day.

When the waitress comes by to get your drink orders, your leg starts bouncing a mile a minute under the table. You rehearse the five words just a sweet tea, please, over and over in your head for when she gets to you. Somehow, you manage to squeak out the order, avoiding eye contact as a nervous habit, but now that you realize you're doing it, the fear of coming across as rude now terrorized your mind. But, before you could do anything about it, the waitress walks away.

"You okay, baby?" Harry can sense your nerves, practically seeing them coming off of you. He reaches his hand across the table to hold yours, rubbing his thumb along your hand.

You just nod, trying to calm yourself. You're being so silly, you think to yourself. What? You're really about to cry because you forgot you have to talk to the waitress to order your food? It's a small encounter, you don't understand why your head makes it such a difficult task. You start to get frustrated with yourself, almost bringing tears to your eyes.

"Hey, tell me what you need, darling?" Harry coos, ducking his head to get in your line of sight since you've been stuck staring at the table top for the past few minutes.

You clear your throat in hopes to push down the tears and diminish the scratching feeling in your throat, although, it didn't do much.

"C-can you..." You huff, now frustrated that you can't even speak, "can you please order for me?" You glance at him, but not holding your gaze long before looking out the window at passing cars. You feel so stupid asking him to order for you. For fucks sake, you're not a child. And you can't tell if it's worse or better that you know he's going to have no problem ordering for you (or doing anything for you, for that matter). He'd do anything for you in a heartbeat.

A soft, loving smile pulls on his lips before he speaks.

"Of course, my sweet girl. It's no problem at all, you want what you normally get?" He asks and you offer a gentle nod.

If he's being honest, he actually likes you depending on him like this sometimes. Not to say that you need him to do everything for you, because you're more than capable, he would like to add! But, knowing that you're comfortable and trust him enough to be so open with him and ask him to do certain things for you makes him feel so...valuable? Maybe that's not the right word he'd like to use, but he just loves that he can do something for you to make your life easier. Your joy brings him joy.

When the waitress comes back, Harry orders for the both of you. Your heart could explode with the amount of adoration you have for the man sitting across from you. He just... gets it. He gets you.

So, with full bellies and calmed nerves, the two of you make your way back home and get settled in y'all's bed to cuddle for the rest of the night. Sprinkled thank you's and sweet kisses are shared while the two of you share warmth under the dozens of blankets adorning the bed.

"I'm sorry I wasted your day off, H." You whisper out into the air.

Pressing a peck to your shoulder, Harry tugs you to turn so you're facing him. He shakes his head, "Y/N, you didn't waste my day. Always perfect with you." His big hands squeezing lovingly at your waist as if he's trying to transfer his love for you to you.

"Look at me," He says when he catches your eyes cast down at his tattooed chest. "You will never, ever, be a burden, lovie. I know y'feel like you're botherin' me, or everyone, by jus'existing, but you've got it all wrong. Baby, I hate seeing you so anxious, and I know you can't control it, but tha's not gonna stop me from doin' everythin' I can to make you comfortable...and loved."

Your face breaks out in, probably, the biggest grin you've had all day at his assurance.

"I always feel comfortable and loved with you, H."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #hshq #hs #harry #y/n #fluff #fine line #hs1 #anxiety #writing #1025cherrystreet #fanfic #fanfiction

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

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let me know

✩ mark x reader (ft. johnny) | pining | fluff | 1.5k

→ summary: on the living room couch, mark thinks you’re asleep with your head on his lap and has a conversation with johnny. as you secretly listen, mark reveals he has been meaning to tell you something for a while now. → warnings: dash of angst, reader jumps to conclusions → prompt: Person B falls asleep in Person A's lap and Person A has a conversation with someone else while stroking Person B's hair as if they were a sleeping cat.

→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

It’s a chill day. Just you, Mark, and Johnny hanging around the apartment, playing games, watching Netflix on the couch, and the like. During a rewatch marathon of one of your favourite tv shows, you start to feel your eyes and head get heavy.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?”

Right now, it’s only you and him on the couch with both of you on either end. He glances over and notices how you’re beginning to doze off.

“Can I rest on you?” you ask, despite how you are already making your way over to his side. Your best friend nods and holds an arm out, open and ready for you to fill in the space near him. His arm wraps around your body as you lay your head on his shoulder. Mark’s natural, sweet aroma fills your nose and reacts with your other senses, making you melt into his body more. However, the position isn’t the best for how sleepy you are.

You break away for a second, and, to Mark’s surprise, you relax your head upon his lap.

“Are you comfortable like this?” Your question is soft, barely a whisper. He hasn’t answered yet, but you’re already closing your eyes and begin to draw invisible shapes on his thigh.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, watching the events unfolding with wide eyes. “Is this comfortable for you?”

Although you don’t manage to answer him, he knows the answer after a few moments as he feels your body become languid under his touch. A smile emerges across his face and he carefully places his hand on your head, rubbing his thumb gently and sending heartwarming vibes in hopes that you would sleep with pleasant dreams.

And your sleep really is peaceful and sweet, perhaps due to Mark’s small touches and caresses throughout it all. The sleeping beauty awakens some time later, but you don’t move in Mark’s lap, continuing to rest with your eyes closed.

From what you hear, the show isn’t playing anymore and is replaced by what you assume is one of Mark’s playlists playing faintly in the background. Your eyelids flicker, not wanting to open them fully, and see Mark scrolling on his phone.

Suddenly, Johnny’s footsteps are present, causing you to immediately shut your eyes and continue your act. There’s a clinking of a glass on the table nearby. Mark says a quick thank you, followed by a small thud in the armchair adjacent to the couch.

Johnny speaks up in a lower tone than usual, likely for your benefit, “You know, you could’ve gotten up and get the drink yourself.”

“You know I don’t want to disturb her.”

You imagine Johnny rolling his eyes. Sips could be heard in the room above you and from the armchair, before the older of the two men chimes in again.

“So,” his voice is gentle, more careful this time. “When are you going to tell her?”

It takes so much from you to not react to the conversation. Nevertheless, you contain yourself, but with perked ears. What were they referring to? What could Mark possibly have to tell you? Both of you were thick as thieves and secrets weren’t an issue in your friendship.

No words are exchanged for some time. Other than the music, the only thing you’re aware of is Mark petting your head and casually running a few fingers through your hair.

“Soon,” you feel his body rock a little, and assume he’s nodding in response. “I’ve been figuring out the right time to say something.”

“Dude, you just gotta go for it.”

“I know. I just—what if it…”

Another pause lingers in the air. Mark inhales sharply; his breathing becomes a little shaky. Beyond the mystery of what Mark wants to tell you, you also wonder why Mark’s hesitating so much. He’s not normally this unsure of himself, or anything really.

“What if it ruins things for us?” he asks softly, with tinges of anxiety hanging from his words.

Mark can’t detect it, but your chest tightens in both sympathy over his concern for your relationship and fear of what Mark has to declare to you. The possibilities of what he has to confess run through your mind in a flash. You’re almost certain about what Mark is referring to, and it kills you to think he hasn’t told you since both of you are so close.

Johnny counters Mark nonchalantly, “You won’t know until you do it. I’m surprised she hasn’t caught on yet.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Risking a chance, you peek at the lanky man in the armchair, who is raising an eyebrow in doubt. Mark sighs and his body rocks slightly once again.

Your eyes are closed again and you exhale a small huff, processing what just occurred. You don’t know how to feel with this new information. Every touch from Mark ignites you in joy and bliss, like all the times he’s done so previously.

Regardless, if your assumption is real and true, why is he so casual and open with you physically? All the touches, the hugs, the forehead touches...

Your thoughts are spiraling the more you think, so you try your best to ignore them and indulge in the moment longer by attempting to sleep more.

Undoubtedly, the sleep doesn’t last as long as before. Feeling distant and unsure of everything, you pull away from Mark hastily when you wake before he can say anything to you and you abruptly announce that you should get going.

“You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Mark’s behind you when he inquires, yet you can see the confusion on his face from the inflection of his voice. You shake your head fervently and mumble barren excuses.

He’s standing, silently watching you put your shoes on, until he decides to add, “Wait, actually, before you go, I need to tell you something—”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, still not wanting to face him. “I know, I know. I heard you and Johnny talking.” Mark tenses and watches you continue to put on your other shoe in shock.

“You have a girlfriend,” you state on his behalf prior to standing up to finally match his gaze.

“I get it and I’m fine with it.” The lies roll off your tongue and don’t sit well with you, but you truly don’t want to ruin what you and Mark have. “It won’t ruin—”

“Whoa, hold up,” now Mark’s the one who interjects, holding his hands out to stop you. His eyebrows furrow at your statement. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

You do the same, except with an addition of a tilt of your head. “Are you sure?”

Mark chuckles, causing your guard to let down a little. “I think I’d know if I have a girlfriend or not.”

Trying to study him, you’re looking for any signs of lying or joking on his face. Mark often joshes around with you, but he can only hold his wall of lies for so long.

However, like he always did when you pressured him for dishonesty and Mark was expressing the truth, he pushed back with a flash of his genuine, saccharine smile.

You cross your arms, then lean against the hallway wall. “Then, what is it?”

In an instant, Mark’s composure is severed into broken pieces. He laughs awkwardly, prior to rubbing a hand against the back of his head and he ruffles his hair in the process.

“Uh…” his filler drones on endlessly and you keep your gaze steady on him, waiting for him to say what he’s been meaning to inform you.

“I, uh, like you. I guess.”

That is not what you’re expecting.

But it’s definitely better than hearing Mark has a girlfriend.

“You guess?” you echo him with a small smile on your face.

He clears his throat, deepens his voice, and holds his tone steady as he says it once more and deliberately makes an effort to stare back at you.

“I like you.”

The hallway lighting isn’t the best, yet how did his eyes seem to sparkle under it?

You groan and place your face into the palm of your hands.

“Are… Are you okay?” Mark comes a little closer to you and reaches out to comfort you.

“I legit thought you were talking about having a girlfriend during that entire convo,” your voice is muffled as you embarrassingly say within your palms. You drag your hands down your face.

Mark’s shaking his head and takes hold of the tips of your fingers in his after you drop your hands.

“Why would I want anyone other than you?”

You dart your face up to glance up at him.

“Really?”

He nods earnestly.

“Really.”

Both of you at this moment are staring, smiling, and giggling all at once. You bite your lip when you begin to take off your shoes.

“I guess I could stay for dinner.”

“You guess?” Mark mocks your tone from moments ago. Playfully, you punch him in the arm with tingling cheeks.

And with that response, Mark didn’t need to ask if you felt the same way about him.

#mark x reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fluff #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct scenarios #mark lee #nct #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 #mywritings #myfanfics

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sarahjkl82-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

People often think artists

Create with their hands

But really they create

with their hearts

So please be gentle

For we wear our vulnerability

On our sleeves

And freely give all we have

Hoping someone will fall

In love with the parts we offer

R. Evelyn

Chapter Nine

The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

“Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

“You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

✪✪✪✪✪

Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

“Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

“You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

“Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

“Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

“I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

“What are we making today, Chef?”

“Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

“My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

“Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

“Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

“Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

What do I do next?

Why can’t I bloody think straight?

Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But… what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

Did he want to...? No, surely not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

“I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

“Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

“Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

“Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

“My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

“She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

“Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

“Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

“‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

“Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

“What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

“Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

“A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

“Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

“That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

“Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

“She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

“Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

“Nush.”

“Mhm?”

“Can I talk to y…”

You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

“Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

“Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

“Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

“Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

“Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

“Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

“C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

“Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

“Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

“Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

“Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

“Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

“My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

“I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

“Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

“So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

“Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

“You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

“Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

“Go on then.”

What?

His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

But why on Earth would you?

With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

“I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

“Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

“You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

Instead you stand there, silent.

Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

“Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

“Then, why are you moving away from me?”

“No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

“I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

“Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

“Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Shit, is that your door?”

“Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

“Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

“I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

“You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

“Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

“Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

“You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

“Well…”

“Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

“Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

✪✪✪✪✪

Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

“Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

“Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

“Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

“Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

“Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

“That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

“Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

“I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

“Stay.”

“Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

How does he do it?

“There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

“No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

“You.”

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal#ppascaledit #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfic #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x oc reader

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hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

Text

passing the night stars

banner by @dymphnasprose

warning: reader has social anxiety

pairing: shinsou x reader (platonic or romantic)

genre: hurt/comfort

wc: 3.2k

summary: The party was neon and you needed darkness.

a/n: this is a gift for my SiL’s birthday today! To any astronomy nerds: I tried and I’m sorry.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

There was something to be said about distance.

It was a buffer, quieting every voice, external and internal, until the only one left was that of the crickets singing over the lo-fi spilling out of the house behind you. You’d stepped away from the party long enough ago that the playlist had started over many songs back—you had no clue how many anymore. The distance turned the music’s thrumming into a quiet melody, the lyrics just as indistinguishable up close as here in the backyard, sitting on patio furniture that rocked lopsidedly in the grass.

Any filter would do, though. Anything that could soften the world just a little around its loud, coarse edges. The ice in your peach-flavored hurricane melting so that the drink was a little less saccharine. The rum casting a film over your mood, keeping your loneliness from dropping you into total dolor. The slight late-night breeze blowing the smoke from the fire pit away from you so that the acrid smell was stronger on the hood of your black sweatshirt than the air. It all muddled your emotions, numbing the buzzing overwhelm of the party to an anxious hum. The party had been neon, and out here you had a bit more darkness.

Without these buffers absorbing some of the furor, you might have escaped the party hours ago. Snuck out while the thing was still in full thrall, before social anxiety could hiss over your bones. Got out while you were ahead. Instead, you’d lasted as long as you could before out to the backyard with the near-dead fire, wracked with guilt at the prospect of leaving without saying goodbye, while too nervous to actually draw the attention to yourself necessary to actually say goodbye.

That wasn’t to say you hadn’t held up for a good while, though. You’d hung out with your friends when the fire had just gotten started and then when the party had moved indoors for drinking games and edibles. You’d hovered on the border as your friends grew more interested in dancing in drunken delay to the somniferous lo-fi beat than conversation. Then the itching had started in your brain, and before you knew it, you were out here, social battery drained dry, waiting for an indefinite future in which you could find the energy to escape.

You shivered as footsteps swiped through the grass, crickets chirping at the intruder.

“Did I surprise you?” Shinsou asked, his voice deep from booze or smoke or both. Or, maybe he was just tired, you figured, as the harsh light of the fire sharpened the bags under his eyes into dark creases.

“Breeze,” you mumbled, goosebumps rising on your wrists, standing the fine hairs on end. Only a few licks of heat from the pit were touching your knees, leaving the rest of you cold in your threadbare sweatshirt as the fire shrank smaller and smaller.

Shinsou had a blanket in his arms, ratty and certainly stolen from the back of the living room couch. He blinked at you for a second before he asked, “Can I join you?”

His voice was deadpan. Between the two of you, there was no real vocal inflection to speak of. Still, you shrugged one shoulder and said, “Sure.”

You stiffened when, instead of choosing one of the many other patio chairs or foldable camping chairs forming a friendly circle around the fire, he joined you on your bench, tossing a bit of blanket over your knees. You hardly realized you were staring at him until he said, “You’re cold, right?”

“Oh, yeah, a little,” you said, tucking your knees up to your chin and curling the scrap of blanket around your arms.

The blanket was raggedy in your hands, pilled on the hem, but warm from being indoors with all the dancing bodies. Plus, clinging onto it, running your thumb over the uneven texture gave you something to focus on instead of Shinsou’s body so close to yours.

Your senses were tingling, raw at having someone nearby again. It was too soon—you still didn’t have anything to say, no defense for why you’d dropped off from the party without a word.

But, on the other hand, being alone wasn’t fixing you either. Parts of your brain were still coiled taut as compression springs, and while they weren’t getting any tighter, they weren’t quite loosening yet either. It was rest, not recovery.

Abruptly—was it abrupt, or were you that zoned out?—Shinsou touched the back of his hand to yours, nearly making you flinch as he furrowed his brows at you. “How long have you been out here?” he asked, shifting towards you and pushing more of the blanket into your lap.

“Oh, um—” maybe a half an hour, maybe more, “—not that long.”

For that flash of contact, his skin had been hot against yours, so you could only imagine how cold your hands had felt to him. Your icy drink was probably mostly to blame, but you were also suddenly aware of how your shoulders were hunched nearly to your ears, your arms clenched to your sides like your chest might warm them. You piled the blanket a little more over your knees and one shoulder, only the hand holding your drink poking out.

“Hard being on the fringes,” he mused as he took a sip from a can. Possibly seltzer, probably beer.

You mirrored, tasting your own drink. It was really mostly water by now, though you were sure it was still painting your tongue orange.

Shinsou’s situation wasn’t much different than yours. Everyone in that house was old classmates. Shinsou was too, but he’d come late. Not too late to be friends, but late enough that it mattered. You were even later—not a classmate, but a post-high school roommate. You’d both landed on the side of Kaminari’s friend group, but neither of you were the core of it. The heart of it. That, for reasons you couldn’t quite understand, was Bakugou.

For some reason, you and Shinsou had never talked about this before.

“Hard being in a group big enough for there to be a fringe.”

Because, of course, it wasn’t just the Bakusquad here today. The majority of the old 3-A was here, those who weren’t on duty or suffering with early morning duty tomorrow. Enough people to certainly cause a ruckus and maybe a noise complaint that even pro heroes wouldn’t get out of.

“Touché”

The two of you fell into silence, and you couldn’t help but wonder exactly what had drawn Shinsou from the party. Even if he didn’t feel he was the most popular guy in the room, you’d seen the way he had the ability to talk to everyone. You weren’t sure if it was a product of his quirk or what, but he was able to start a conversation with everyone he met. He didn’t seem shy or anxious in the least.

Then again, that was just what he presented. You knew from that what you put forth in public wasn’t necessarily in line with what you were feeling.

It was hard to be the introvert around a group like yours. Worse—it was noticeable. This wasn’t the first time you’d stumbled away from a party, mind half gone not on alcohol or weed but on the sudden assault of attention, loud voices, and talk of hero work. Being one of the only non-heroes in the room was exhausting, and maybe that’s why you’d had to escape. Or maybe there never was a reason, good or otherwise, and you were just here because of your stupid self.

“Clear night,” Shinsou commented, “Don’t get to see much of the stars in the city.”

You looked up, a bright spot in the center of your vision from where you’d been staring into the fire. Almost everyone in your group lived in the city, not too far from each other, depending on your definition of the word. But those with quirks better suited outside the city, like Tsuyu and Koda, had moved out of town post graduation, granting the rest of you access to a night in the suburbs like this.

The truth was, you hardly looked up at the sky in the city. Tourists were always looking up, eyes glinting off the skyscrapers and billboards. But natives were always looking down, too aware of the fact that other natives didn’t always clean up after their dogs and, with so little grass, the sidewalk often needed a close eye kept to it.

But here, it was pretty. Not the smog-stained brown you were used to, but deep blue and twinkling with infinite pinpricks.

“Mm,” you hummed, taking another sip of your watery drink. “You’re right.”

“There’s Cassiopeia,” he said, pointing just over the tree line.

You followed his finger, unsure quite of what you were looking at. The stars hardly looked like clusters to you, especially on a night like this where you could see so many. It was more a broad network of them, either all connected or all individual. All the stars or just a star.

“You know constellations?” you asked, ears latching onto something that finally wasn’t hero related. Truth be told, you probably knew less about stars than you did about hero work but it was less alienating. You could lean into it.

“Some,” he offered. “Cassiopeia is a basic one.”

“Where is it?”

Shinsou glanced at you, leaning in closer so that his finger could match your gaze. You shoulders knocked and you could feel his wild hair against your own. His finger traced down and up, down and up in a cockeyed W. “Cassiopeia, mother of Andromeda.”

“She’s a woman?”

It was any wonder that ancient people had looked into the night sky and seen things like rams and bulls, creating a whole woman out of a few diagonal lines. Still, you listened to Shinsou, his low voice rumbling into your tired bones as he began.

“A beautiful woman,” he answered. “In Greek myth, she thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her boastfulness made Poseidon angry, so he created a sea monster that Andromeda was sacrificed to. Andromeda was left to await her fate when Perseus, who had just killed Medusa, used Medusa’s head to turn the sea monster to stone. After saving Andromeda, the two of them got married, and when they died, they both became constellations alongside Cassiopeia.”

Shinsou’s voice was husky and even as he told the story. The cadences were easy drops, landing you softly before he started up again with his next thought. It was a voice you could be rocked by, a voice you could be held by.

“Do you know where they are too?”

“Just below,” Shinsou said. “Probably come up just in time for the sun to make them invisible.”

“That’s too bad,” you said, curling deeper into the blanket, curling so that on shoulder leaned more onto the bench than the other. You head was almost resting on Shinsou’s shoulder and you could feel his warmth radiating in the cold night. “How do you know all this?”

Shinsou was quiet for a second and your nerves spiked again. You hadn’t even felt them relax, but suddenly your anxiety was scratching again, wondering if you’d misspoke. Or maybe you’d whispered it and he just hadn’t heard you? Before you could decide whether to say it again or apologize, though, he let out a sigh that jostled the blanket.

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” he said by way of explanation.

You cocked your head. Perhaps it was just a good hobby for an insomniac, but you were unsure about the evasiveness. “Did you have to learn a lot for general studies? Or to get in to U.A.?”

“…Yeah.”

You could only imagine. U.A. was an incredibly competitive school for heroes, but that was a specialized course. For general studies you didn’t need to have the physical prowess or the other particular skills that came with heroics, but you had to be an ace in school. It was no small feat to get into general studies, especially while you were trying to pursue something else. You were satisfied with that, ready to let it go and return to the near silence of the crickets and the fire popping, when Shinsou suddenly continued.

“When it looked like my plans to become a hero wouldn’t pan out,” Shinsou began, his words slow, tired, “my parents encouraged me into any and all other interests. None stuck.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, the personal admission taking you aback.

For all the times you’d seen Shinsou talk effortlessly with people in a room, you weren’t sure how personal or vulnerable you’d ever seen him. He seemed comfortable enough probing other people, but this was new. It made the space between you suddenly seem private—so different from the party you’d escaped from. You could still hear the ambient noises of a couple dozen people in there having a good time, but it was suddenly a world away.

“I’m sorry, Shinsou,” you said, brows furrowing as you glanced his eyes, still gazing up at the stars. His parents had probably thought they were being supportive, but it wasn’t the support he’d desired.

“It is what it is,” he said. “It worked out in the end.”

There was the smallest smile on his face at that, barely betraying what must have been true joy at having a dream slip through his fingers only to fly back to him. And he’d earned every bit of it, even if he wanted to keep it to himself.

“So now,” you began softly, “you just have a lot of little things that you can offer people. The little things you could have been. That’s not so bad, right?”

“No, it’s not so bad,” he agreed. “I always liked that story.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Japanese astronomy varies so much from region to region and is usually about more functional things. Harvest, seasons. But these other myths about people with no chance of being heroes becoming ones anyway…”

He trailed off, but the sentiment was there. Trapped in the things he’d done to try and leave heroism behind were little vestiges. The inescapable fact that he was meant to be a hero and would be one anyway, even if the world told him he was a villain, doomed for failure.

The stories had been true.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asked, surprising you.

“Feeling better?”

“You’d been out here for over an hour,” Shinsou stated. “Your eyes were glassy and distant and you were freezing and you didn’t seem to notice.”

“Oh,” you intoned. You hadn’t realized it had been that long. You were sure it had only been half that time.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said truthfully. “I’m fine now.”

The anxiety from earlier that had been buzzing through you had kept you awake, all while thoroughly draining you. You’d hardly realized just how much until now, with your body not just feeling settled but heavy. The stress had run straight through you, and now you bore the fatigue.

Shinsou glanced down at you out of the corner of his eye. His brows raised and it lifted his whole face, making the dark circles under his eyes just a little less stark. “You look exhausted.”

“You always look exhausted,” you retorted, your first little grin curving along your lips.

In his surprise, Shinsou smiled too. “I know that. Here.”

Shinsou took your forgotten drink from your hand and set it down, then patted his shoulder.

“You should rest for a little while.”

Your eyes met his, searching for anything that looked like obligation or impatience. But there was none. Just a surprising amount of openness and a pretty shade of purple.

“Do you have more myths?”

Shinsou smiled and, once again, his gaze went up to the stars. As he started another tale, you snuggled onto his shoulder, the rest of your body drawing closer to his as well. He didn’t wait long to begin speaking, talking in more detail than he had before. There was no reason to be concerned that he might be boring you, or that you didn’t want to hear it. Really, these stories, these stars that had brought him even the tiniest speck of light were just what you needed too.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, and you weren’t sure when you woke up. But when you blinked your eyes awake, the first thing you noticed was that Cassiopeia hadn’t moved far. The second was the feeling of Shinsou’s head tilted against yours, his breath like gentle waves under you.

You shifted, signaling that you were awake, and Shinsou did too, his head lifting from yours. At some point, his arm had wrapped around you, encasing you in his warmth. He didn’t move it, not yet, as your body creaked and you forced yourself to sit up.

“How long?” you murmured, voice barely raspy with sleep.

“Not that long,” Shinsou answered, echoing your reply from earlier.

He didn’t look at his phone or a watch, and hadn’t since he’d come out, so you wondered if he had any clue. Or if it simply hadn’t felt long. Somehow, the idea that his time spent with you hadn’t felt long was a comfort, a relief.

“How are you feeling?”

You checked in, feeling that grogginess that always came in the wake of an intense mental episode. Your brain struggling to catch up and survey the backlash from its earlier antics. That would go away. It always did. “I’m good.”

Shinsou continued to look at you, switching between each eye, double checking your expression for any lie. But he must not have found any, for he leaned back into the bench and relaxed, that tiny ghost of a smile back on his face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, gazing out again. “You out here alone before? It had been…well, we were…I wanted to check on you.”

For the first time, Shinsou looked almost a little shy, and you couldn’t help but smile, touched. You put a hand on the shoulder that had just taken your weight and brought his gaze back to you. “Thank you.”

There actually was one thing you knew about stars. You’d heard that every light year a star was away from you was a year into the past you were seeing its light. Looking at the stars was looking millions of years into the past. Despite the fact that these selfsame stars connected you to humans around the world today and those of old, that filter of distance and time rendered them ancient, if not already gone.

But as you looked at Shinsou, their soft, silvery starlight illuminating one side while the last dancing coals of the fire glowed on the other, you were sure that this was the opposite. This wasn’t old or past or known to anyone but the two of you. This wasn’t the stars or even the stories inspired by them.

This was just beginning.

#shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shinsou fanfiction #shinso fanfiction #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #tw: anxiety

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Sanguineous.

Vampire! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: This would’ve happened eventually, after all, you did fall in love with a vampire. At least he’ll be there for you when you need him the most.

WARNINGS! Biting, oral (female receiving), fingering, blood, pain, crying, dom!Izuku

Category: Smut

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Yo I’m super nervous with this one.. let me know how it turned out!

Just To Clarify:

This is set in the Victorian Era

Izu and Reader have been together for a while

Izuku is a kind lover, nervous boy

Reader is a virgin

Perm. Tag List:

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia

Wet lips molded together passionately, perfectly in sync as desire swirled on the tip of your tongue.

His soft, frigid fingers trailed up the warm sides of your naked body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as shivers trickled down your spine like water.

Tonight was a special yet nerve-wracking night.

One that was bound to happen eventually, since you fell in love with an immortal vampire.

How it happened was still fresh in your memory like soil deep in the heart of a forest, you’d never forget meeting or falling in love with the one you forever wanted to call your own.

You hadn’t a moment to reminisce, the feeling of his cold hands inching closer towards your bare breast derailed your train of thought.

If you weren’t blindfolded and tied to the bed, you would’ve been running your fingers through those soft green locks, losing yourself in his large, emerald eyes that held so much love in them you feared you’d drown.

But for now, you’d do without.

Your senses were heightened considerably, his light touches driving you mad.

“(Y/N)..” He whispered against your collarbone, ghosting kisses across your skin lit aflame as his palms rested on your ribs.

“You look so beautiful..” The candles burning around the room created a sensual atmosphere, their warm light dancing across your smooth skin. You almost looked like someone straight out of a renaissance painting, utterly breathtaking.

But anxiety and fear bubbled loosely in his gut, his movements slow and shaky. He was excited yet afraid.

Giddy.

Your skin against his own calms his nerves. He hummed when he saw that small smile on your addicting lips, moving to reclaim them once more, grounding himself with your eager love.

You gasped into his mouth once his hands finally cupped your breasts, thumb swiping over one of your perky nipples. Slipping his tongue into your wet cavern, he traced along all those sensitive parts of your mouth with the tip of his tongue, rolling your buds between his large fingers.

Your back arched off the bed at feeling such cold hands against such a sensitive place, your nipples growing impossibly harder, near painful, by the second as wetness pooled between your legs, dripping down your ass just to soak into the soft, white cotton sheets beneath you.

He pulled away all too soon, eliciting a soft whine of disapproval as he chuckled.

“Patience.”

His voice was deep, and sweet like honey, music you could play on repeat and never get tired of.

Pressing his lips to the corner of your own, he moved over your jawline, butterfly kisses being left behind. He exhaled heavily at your neck, nose pressing into the crook before inhaling deeply.

Your scent always overwhelmed him, made him lose the slightest bit of control.

He could hear your heart beat increasing, your blood pumping faster through the warm artery just below the skin where his freckled cheek lay snug.

It made him thirsty, desperate to sink his growing fangs into your flesh and to feel the warm liquid flow down his throat. It would be heavenly..

But he relented, pulling away to continue kissing down your body, praise slipping past his teeth as he marveled at your addicting beauty.

His words made your cheeks heat up, hips squirming once he pressed a peck below your naval.

You so desperately wished you could move your arms, but a soft rope kept you comfortably bound as he did to you what he desired. The very thought of having no control thrilled you to the very core, if the sudden throbbing had anything to say about it.

Your legs were then spread, and embarrassment flowed down your body like lava spewing from a volcano.

You had never been spread in such a way before, you were practically open wide like a sandwich waiting for the meat, you could even feel his eyes on your dripping core. Even if you were shy, seeing as this was your first time, you knew you had nothing to be ashamed of. Not with him.

The bed squeaked as he shifted, his hot breath soon fanning over your fresh womanhood as he kept you open for him.

You couldn't control the way your hips twitched, involuntarily bucking up once his tongue dipped in between your folds.

“H-ah.. Izuku..!”

His hair tickled your thighs as he spread your folds open with his fingers, diving in and devouring your very essence with lustful hunger that had you shaking and moaning for more.

His tongue flicked over your throbbing clit, circling around it before possessively tracing his name onto the cute little bud, marking you as his.

You would always be his.

He pulled you closer to his mouth, eager to slurp you up and get you to relax even more.

He knew deep down that you were as nervous as him, possibly even moreso.

You would be giving your entire life to him, after all.

It filled him with such adrenaline every time he thought about it, how you’d risk everything to be his.

He loved you so much.

It was insane to think that someone like him could even feel love after centuries of being a cold-blooded killer that lived under the disguise of a nobleman.

His life was nothing until you stumbled into it, an orphan lost in the woods finding a manor, something straight out of a cliche fairy tale.

Not that he particularly minded, considering it was endearing how someone depended on him for the first time in his long life.

“HaaAAh!! I- Izu..! I’m..!”

The bottom of your tummy twisted into a heated knot, your clit puffy and overly sensitive as he continued to lather it in blissful attention.

He hummed, the vibrations shaking you, and the knot wound so tight it snapped.

Stars brighter than those in the captivating night sky exploded behind your eyelids, and you suddenly felt like you were walking on the softest cloud high above the earth as your back arched nearly uncomfortably from the sheer pleasure he brought forth to you. Pleasure you had never felt before

He was always so skilled with his tongue, both in business and apparently private matters.

He did have centuries to perfect it, after all.

Giving one final lick to your sopping flesh, collecting more of your juices on his tongue, he crawled back up your body, thrusting his tongue into your parted mouth.

You eagerly met his passion, the taste of yourself on him seemingly so scandalous, it was hard not to moan wantonly into his mouth.

He smiled against you, cupping your hot cheek with his cool hand, the difference in temperature making you inhale sharply and lean into his delicate touch.

Teasingly, you sucked on his tongue, thrill filling your body when he let out the tiniest of growls.

“Naughty little girl,” he rasped, “you’re already driving me mad, is it so wise to test my self control?”

As he said this, he momentarily ground his clothed crotch onto your bare thigh, dragging a whimper past your lips from how hard he was, and how big he felt.

How a vampire could be hard, you had no clue.

The undead and immortal wasn’t exactly your expertise.

All you truly knew was that some parts of him were warm and some cold, like an unevenly cooked chicken.

“P-perhaps..” You subconsciously bit your lip, his eyes no doubt watching as you did so, “it depends on if in doing so, you’ll give m-me what I want..”

A dark chuckle bounced around the room, you could almost feel the rumbling vibration from the chest hovering above your own.

“And what is it that you desire, (Y/N)?”

Your name rolled off his dirty tongue like molasses, thick and heavy, an accent unknown to you, lost by time, threading itself through every word, only adding to your obsession with his voice.

“You know what I want..” He was always such a tease.

But he couldn't help himself. A smirk took over his features as he gazed down at your pouting face with piercing green eyes, you were always so cute when he did tease you. It was much too fun to simply give you what you wanted all the time.

Not to mention.. if he did.. things would escalate far too quickly. He was still nervous.

Even if he was both brains and bronze, he was still just an undeadman with human emotions. Curse being trapped in a young adult's body! He’ll forever feel the horniness of a teen and the crushing responsibility of an adult.

“Izuku.. It’s okay..” Your saccharine voice startled him from his thoughts, have you read his mind? “I want this.. it’s okay.” You smiled reassuringly, and he swore he felt his cold, dead heart beat.

Placing a kiss to your nose, he watched in amusement as you scrunched it up like a mouse.

First things first.. he had to get out of his attire.

Despite you being fully naked, he was fully clothed. It certainly made him feel powerful, but tonight, he wanted to be your equal.

So, pulling back and sitting on his haunches, he unbuttoned his brown vest and white dress shirt, tossing them haphazardly to the floor, careful to avoid the flames of the candles.

It was a cooler night, autumn changing the leaves of the trees just outside his large window gleaming with moonlight, and so a fire burned in the fireplace opposite of the room.

He didnt want you to be too terribly cold.

Besides, the crackling of the fire calmed his nerves.

Soon he had his pants and other clothing off, and he was as bare as you.

Only, you couldnt see him.

But you could certainly feel his muscular thighs on either side of your own, he truly was a sculpture.

He captured your lips once again in a kiss, fingers smoothing down your belly just to gather your own slick and prod at your clenching entrance.

The prickling feeling of something so cold touching something so hot made you flinch, and so he held you still with his other hand, his chest resting against yours as you took in shaky breaths.

Pushing a digit inside, he groaned at how tight you were, pulsing around his finger and sucking it further into your molten warmth until he was knuckle deep.

“Fuck..” He huffed against your neck, tongue dipping out to taste your salty flesh for just a moment.

“You’re so tight, love..”

“Mm..” You forced your body to relax, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

Pulling his finger out, he thrust it back in, a wet squelch accompanying his actions.

It didnt take long for you to adjust to the single digit, soon finding pleasure in the way his finger moved in and out of you. “H-hah.. mmMm..”

Another finger prodding at your entrance made your hips buck up, the coldness addicting as it felt like you were being filled up with a smooth rock.

It felt so good.. you swore you were melting despite the vast difference in temperature.

“I-Izuku..! Mm! G-uh.. hAH! AaAAAH?!!”

His fingers curled inside of your brushing up against a spot inside yourself you never knew about.

He thrusted his fingers inside of you faster, hitting that same spot every time with a wet click. Eventually a third finger was added, and you swore you were close to seeing those stars again.

“UuaaaAhh!! S-so!! Good!! G-gonna.. h-AAaaH! Gonna c-cum!! Izu- Izu!!”

Just as that knot was about to snap inside you again, he fully pulled his fingers out.

“No!” You sobbed, fighting against the restraints as you helplessly bucked into this air, “Izuku-!! Mmph!”

Your cries were cut off as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, saliva and your wetness dripping down your chin.

“Lick them clean for me, honey.” He purred seductively, that wicked man.

Without hesitation, you eagerly licked his fingers, lathering them in your spit before sucking heartily, slurping up your mess, ignoring the throbbing of your clit and the way your core clenched helplessly around nothing.

“Such a good girl, always listening to me.. I love you so much, (Y/N)..” Sighing dreamily, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, staring in awe at the string that connected them to you before it snapped.

“Izuku.. p-please.. please t-take me..! I- I can’t..!” You were on the verge of tears, so desperate for him.

Swallowing the ball of nerves sitting at the back of his throat, he finally decided to oblige.

“As you wish,” he whispered into your ear, leaning back to get between your legs, spreading them wide and resting them on his hips.

To think, you were about to give everything you had away to him.

He was honored, and would forever devote himself to you.

He was excited to never have to watch a loved one die in his arms again.

Grabbing his member, he stroked himself a few times, guiding the tip to your awaiting entrance.

His head kissed at the clenching hole, smearing his precum onto your flesh.

He finally pushed in, slowly, ears perked for any noise of discomfort or pain as he chewed his lip at the intense pleasure.

This was your first time, after all. He knew how much it hurt for virgins if not careful enough. He wanted to be careful, he couldnt bare the thought of hurting you because of his own selfish desires.

“Nh!” The smallest of squeaks caught his attention, and he immediately stopped stuffing himself in. “(Y/N)?” He panted like a dog in heat, voice laced with concern, hands massaging your hips.

“I-I’m okay..! It’s just.. haahh.. You’re… so big, Izuku..”

Was it wrong to have pride swell in his chest at the praise when his lover was in pain? He didnt know.

“Shh, baby.. give it a moment..” And so, he remained still, letting you catch your breath before continuing to shove himself inside your welcoming walls.

He was aware he was.. on the larger size. It must be painful to be taken by something so big for your first time.. but he couldnt help the size of his dick.

He was positive you’d love it eventually, he’d make sure of that.

“Almost there.. you’re doing so good for me, sweetheart..” His fingers squeezed at your hips as he slowly sheathed himself inside, eventually bottoming out with a pleased groan.

While he felt pleasure, all you felt was discomfort and pain.

It was nothing at all like his fingers, you felt like you were being torn in two!

You held back on your sobs, still fighting to relax yourself.

No one told you your first time would be so painful.. Granted, you didn't have anyone to tell you, but a heads up would’ve been pleasant.

But you'd take this, take the pain, because it was Izuku.

The love of your life.

You were overjoyed at the thought of being connected with him, you could even feel his overwhelming warmth, the way he twitched and throbbed inside of you, it was wonderful.

Way better than anything you had shamefully dreamed of before.

Lips brushed against your skin again, and you could tell he was trying to calm you down with his pure love with each kiss delicately placed.

Once you were as ready as could be, you tested the waters by grinding yourself on him, to which he let out a guttural growl.

Slowly, he pulled himself back out so that only his flushed tip remained inside, before pushing himself back in. A heavy pant escaped his lips as you shimmied, biting your own.

He continued to take things slow, rocking in and out of you in a slow rhythm, clutching the bed sheets beneath you so tightly his knuckles turned white as he fought to control himself from acting like a complete wild animal and fucking you raw.

It truly was hard to hold back, considering you felt so fucking good around his aching cock.

Fuck!

He swore you were the best he’s ever had!

His face was pinched and sweaty, eyes concentrating on your own facial expressions as he sped up, wet slaps starting to become a lewd white noise.

The more he fucked in and out of you, the more you got into it, his huge member filling you up in the sweetest way possible, brushing against parts inside of you you hadn't any idea were there.

It just felt.. so nice..

“H-haah.. mMM..! Izuku-! Please.. please go f-faster-!”

“But-“

“I can take it, please..!”

Without missing a beat, he sped up his hips, lurching forward from how good it felt, “Huunnhh..! Aah..”

You were so wet, your juices started to drip down his thighs as you moaned oh-so loudly for him.

“AaAah! Zu!! Mmnngnn..! F-Feels!! Ahh, FUCK! It f-feels so good..! HaAAaaH..!”

His warm chest brushed against your own as he leaned down, holding you flushed against him as his hips snapped up into yours, thrusts so powering it made your head spin and the bed frame bang against the wall.

Everything was moving, and your body felt like it was on fire with pleasure-filled needles pricking your skin.

“(Y/N).. my lady..! F-uck- you’re so- h-haah.. so fucking tight..!” The freckled man grunted out, passion and desire swirling in his belly as your scent overwhelmed the fuck out of him. He could feel his fangs stabbing into his bottom lip, drops of his blood splattering onto your clear skin below as he continued to shake the bed with how fast he was fucking you.

He couldnt help but shove his nose into the crook of your neck, licking along the column and subconsciously nibbling and sucking little marks.

“Mm-! HaaaaAh.! B-baby..! Izuku! Izuku! B-bite me! M-make me yours! Please I- it’s okay..!”

You were insane to say something holding a thousand meanings and depth deeper than a trench, but you hadn't a care in the world as the love of your life fucked you so good you couldnt think straight.

“Haaauh..!” You words sent hot spikes of pleasure down his spine, and the hunger inside him grew tenfold. His throat was still burning, parched, and his eyes were hyper focused on your neck.

There was no turning back.

He licked your neck with his tongue once again, feeling for that thrum of your intense heartbeat in your artery. Once he found it, he hesitated, pearly white fangs hovering over your beautiful skin as you continued to cry out in pleasure.

This was it.

He bit down, blood immediately filling his mouth, flowing down your neck and staining the bed.

Your short cry of pain should've knocked him off, but he felt as if he was on drugs, his eyes damn near rolling back into his head as your delicious fucking flavor spilled down his throat, all while your dripping pussy clenched around him like a fist.

It felt so good!

You tasted.. so god damn good!!

He slurped noisily, lost in your flavor, your own blood dripping down his chin and your shoulder.

You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted… like pure sugar cane and honey, mellowed out with hints of dark chocolate and salt.

His cock twitched inside of you, pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit, and despite your love drinking your blood, you were in ecstasy, thighs shaking like a newborn as they squeezed his slim hips that continued to speed up.

You were being fucked so good that you hadnt a care in the world, your mind growing blank and fuzzy from the loss of blood.

“Izu.. haAaAAAAH! Izuku! Let me..! Let me see you!! Please I!! I want to see you!!” Tears leaked from your eyes, the pleasure too damn good for you to handle without turning into absolute jelly.

Snapping from his thoughts, he pulled away from you, licking the two dripping holes, his saliva sure to speed up the healing process.

“But I..! I look di- aaaah..! Different!” He was still ashamed of himself for being what he was, not to mention being so sloppy that your own blood was smeared on his mouth.

“Dont care! Please!”

The bed creaked as you pulled on your restraints, back arching off the bed as if to persuade him.

Shaking fingers pulled your silk blindfold off, and you were met with such beauty.

His eyes glowed a hungry crimson, cheeks flushed and hair slicked with sweat as his eyebrows pinched, bloody jaw hanging open with his fangs on full display, moans pouring out his mouth.

He was beautiful.

“GuaAh-! K-kiss me..!”

You didnt have to ask twice, as his lips soon crashed down onto yours, the metallic taste of your own blood fresh on his tongue driving you closer to the edge as he rearranged your insides, taking away the pain that began to sear your neck.

“MMmMmh!”

This was why he insisted upon tying you up whilst making love, because it fucking hurt, being turned into what he was, and he knew it.

He could remember the day he was turned like yesterday, in that dark alley all alone by the only person he trusted besides his mother. The fear he felt, the pain he felt, all by himself, unbearable.

He didn't want you to go through that, so he came up with the most numbing way possible for you to go through the process.

Tears fell like a waterfall down your eyes as the pain spread through your veins, breaking the kiss to sob out loud, and yet.. you felt so good at the same time.

You were feeling so many things it was hard to wrap your head around it.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)..” he whispered before grabbing your hips, slamming into you even faster with inhuman speeds that made you scream in pleasure and the bed creak, promptly coming undone as the knot in your lower belly snapped once again.

Pain and pleasure filled cries filled the large room, your own eyes rolling back as red covered your vision, spotted with black, lightning and acid flowing down your veins as you were brought to the brink of insanity.

Izuku pulled out, thrusting into his hand for a split second before he came all over your belly, but he didn't have a second to bask in any afterglow, your pleasure filled cries soon morphing into intense pain as your body shut down, cells dying and being replaced by those much stronger.

You could feel yourself grow colder, you felt like you were being stabbed a million times over again, and there was nothing you could do about it.

The only comfort you had was him hugging you to him, whispering words you couldn’t comprehend as you screamed and fought against restraints.

Izuku lost count of how many minutes passed by slowly, his heart breaking with every cry you let out.

There was no other way, you knew this and you accepted this.

He would never leave you alone, not even as you thrashed about, accidentally kneeing him multiple times in the gut.

It took a painstakingly long ten minutes before you slowly calmed down, eyes fluttering shut as you fell lax in his protective hold.

The worst was done.

All he could do now was wait.

Again.

Morning came and went, and as expected, you had yet to wake.

Through the hours, Izuku stayed by your side, watching as your skin grew paler. It was a damn near painful sight, especially when blood dripped from your mouth from your fangs growing in.

It wasn't until the moon was high in the sky once more that your heart beat, of which continued to slow down as time went on, stopped.

Leaning over your body, now dressed in a nightgown, he stared at your features.

Your eyes moved beneath your lids, and his breath caught in his throat.

Red eyes soon stared back into his own, and he couldn't help but chuckle, despite the situation. He knew exactly what you felt.

“My, my, looks like someones hungry.”

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polaroid15 · 4 years ago

Text

With Great Power

FINAL CHAPTER!! 🥳'With great power comes saving the world'

Summary: Endgame, but with a lil' Peter-weilding-mjollnir twist :)

Read on Ao3 HERE

---------

Peter is back.

Peter is alive.

Tony looks at him in detached amazement. Because it’s really him, enthusiastic and animated as the day he had lost him.

“Do you remember when we were in space...”

His kid. Peter. Everything is a blur.

“...and then he started doing that yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time-”

Unable to prevent it another second, he pulls Peter into a hug, pressing his cheek into the kid’s hair. Peter stills under his touch, his light breaths filling Tony’s ears. It feels like a miracle.

“What are you doing?”

His throat is too tight to respond.

“Oh. This is nice.” Peter returns the hug, completing the orbit. And just like that it’s all worth it. Every damn sacrifice.

Everything clicks into place.

“God kiddo. I sure missed you,” he croaks. Peter curls his fingers into Tony’s back.

The battle rages on around them. Destruction, fear. It’s not over. They’re a spark in a dark room, a single seed of victory.

“I missed you too.”

They separate and a physical pain rips through Tony’s chest. The world around him is blurry and he works quickly to blink the moisture out of his eyes.

“Thanos can’t win,” Peter says.

“He’s strong.”

“We’re stronger. Together.”

Struggling to swallow his emotion, Tony places his hands on either side of Peter’s face and wipes his thumbs across his cheekbones. Not dust. Solid. Real. “What’s your plan kiddo?”

Because now, more than ever, Tony has something to fight for.

-----

Tony tries hard to stay with Peter, but they're too outnumbered, too outgunned. He loses him to the chaos not even fifteen minutes after their reunion and tries to ignore the building panic in his chest.

“FRI. Keep me updated on the kid.”

“Yes sir.”

He fights alongside his family and prays that Peter is right- that they can win. That soon, it will all be over.

Across the field, through dozens of falling alien soldiers, he sees Peter and his heart catches in his throat.

Because he’s carrying the gauntlet. It’s in his arms, and Tony can’t breathe. He turns to blast to the boy’s aid and is intercepted by half a dozen opponents.

Peter is on his own.

-----

Peter can count on one hand how many times he’s been more afraid than the moment he’s living right now. Sprinting with all his might with all infinity stones tucked against his chest.

The stones that had stolen five years from his life.

The stones that he doesn’t fully comprehend the consequences of yet.

Holding the gauntlet makes him a priority target. He flips and dodges and shoots webs, but he still gets hit.

Hard.

One particularly rough attack has him slammed into the earth, creating a crater with the sheer force of his body. Karen lights up his screen in ugly alerts about his health as he blinks stars out of his eyes. The alien that had landed him there appears above him, snarling and raising the hand to finish him off.

Peter closes his eyes.

The blow never comes.

Slowly, with every muscle in his body shaking, he opens his eyes. A woman stands above him, practically glowing with strength. Captain Marvel.

“Hi,” he wheezes. “I’m- I’m Peter Parker.”

“Hey Peter Parker. You got something for me?”

Though his body begs him to stay down, Peter forces his limbs into cooperation until he’s on his feet, grunting when it makes him dizzy. “I don’t know how you’re going to get it through all that.”

But the smile on Captain Marvel’s face gives him renowned confidence. He hands over his burden and sags when its weight leaves his hands.

-----

FRIDAY pushes Peter’s vitals in front of Tony’s eyes and he curses, feeling acid crawl up his throat. “Connect me to his com.”

There’s an explosion somewhere to his right. He hits the tail end of the blast and rolls across the rock, the breath knocked out of his chest. An alien falls out of the sky towards him and he shoots it away before it can hit him.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter gasps through the line. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You on the other hand- what were you thinking? Grabbing the gauntlet like that-”

“I had to! There was no other choice!”

“There’s always a choice, Pete. And you always choose the dangerous one.”

Peter’s laugh fills his ears and it’s almost enough to ebb away the biting edges of his anxiety. But then it tapers away into a shout, followed closely by webbing and clanging metal.

“Kid?” Tony prompts urgently. “You okay? Where are you?”

“F-fine. Ow. I’m fine Mr. Stark. I got him.”

“Where’s the gauntlet?”

“Captain Marvel.”

Tony dips in relief, trying to navigate the kid’s location. “Good, that’s good. Try and find somewhere safe, okay?”

“What? No! I- I have to help.”

“Kid, tap out. You have fifteen broken bones!”

“But Mr. Stark- that means I still have 191 working ones!”

Tony gapes, lost for words as he dodges another attack. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

If Peter responds, it’s lost to his ears. Something hits him hard in his side, so hard that for a moment it whites out his vision. He lands ungracefully, skidding and moaning. Peter’s voice is distant static in his ears and he tries desperately to hang onto it.

When he opens his eyes, Thanos stands above him.

-----

“Mr. Stark? Oh man. Can you hear me?”

Peter’s pulse is threatening to shoot straight through his skin. Tony’s ragged breaths fill his ears, sending shivers down his back. “Mr. Stark! Crap- Karen. Plot me a route to Mr. Stark’s location.”

The LED display maps out the route and Peter wastes no time. He slips through the battle like an arrow through water, his worry dulling every other instinct. When he crests a hill he sees his mentor pressed into the ground, Thanos’s boot grinding down on his chest.

“MR. STARK!”

Peter swings faster than he ever has in his life, heartbeat in his ears and his adrenaline giving him the strength he doesn’t have. With another violent scream he swings straight into Thanos’s side, kicking him in the head and effectively knocking him away from Tony’s writhing body. Thanos hits the ground hard, scrambling for purchase before rising to his feet. He stares at Peter with a sadistic sense of admiration.

Trying to block out Tony’s fight for air, Peter stands in front of him, arms splayed out wide. “Don’t touch him.”

“A fighter. I can respect that.” Thanos takes a step forward and Peter tenses. Behind him, he sees Captain America and Thor fighting a ten-foot tall giant. He thinks he sees Thor catch his eye. “But I am afraid your efforts are useless.”

“I won’t stop. I’m not afraid of you.”

But he is. Terrified.

“You would give your life for that man?” Thanos drawls, eyes darkening. From behind Peter, he hears Tony trying to get up and failing.

“Yes.”

“P-Peter. Go-”

But Peter doesn’t move. He blocks Thanos’s first punch and spins away from the second. The third he isn’t so lucky. It hits him hard in the chest and he flies back, skidding towards where Thor and Steve are fighting. Tony cries out. It’s the only thing keeping him conscious.

Thanos looms over Tony’s body, a look of victory on his face. “This man is the reason for this fight. He deserves to die.”

Peter can’t breathe. Thanos picks up a broken spear off the ground.

He raises it above Tony’s head.

“I am inevitable.”

A tug in Peter’s gut gives him what he needs to do next. In a blur of emotion and panic, he shoots to his feet and instead of looking at Tony, he turns to look at Thor. Surprisingly, the man’s eyes are locked onto his own. A millisecond of silent communication is all they need.

Thor throws his hammer. Peter reaches out his hand.

He catches it, the weapon feather-light in his hand. Before he can process the success he leaps forward with all his strength, swinging mjollnir as if it were destined, in this very moment, to be wielded by his hand.

Thanos’s eyes light in surprise. He shifts the spear towards Peter in futile defense, something like real fear in his eyes. Mjollnir, sparking with lightning, cracks hard against his head and he falls to the earth as if in slow motion. Peter stands above his body, limbs numb, chest heaving, and mjollnir curled tightly in his hand. Thanos doesn’t get up.

“P-Peter-”

Spinning around, Peter finds Tony fighting for air against a slab of jagged rock, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He moves his eyes from Peter’s face to the hammer in his hand, looking just as disbelieving as Peter feels.

“Mr. Stark!” he drops to his knees beside his fallen mentor, hands shaking as they reach out to assess the damage. “Are you- oh god- are you okay?”

But Tony merely blinks, his eyes still trained on the hammer.

“Mr. Stark?”

The shock on Tony’s face morphs into a smile. It makes a split on his lip bleed. “I always knew you’d be worthy,” he says softly.

And then he passes out.

-----

Peter defends Tony with the rest of his energy, Thor and Steve by his side. They fight until the army dissolves.

“Someone snapped,” Steve says, looking in awe over the battlefield. “It’s over.”

Over.

Peter falls back to the ground by Tony and shakes his shoulders. “Wake up Mr. Stark. We won.”

We won.

After more prompting, Tony groans and opens his eyes into slits. They widen after connecting with Peter. “Kid?” he whispers.

“We won Tony,” he says.

Tony chokes on a sob. Though obviously painful, he sits up and pulls Peter into a hug, and Peter returns the gesture with equal force. The dying embers of the battle fall around them, cries of victory still ringing out over the field.

“You called me Tony.”

Peter laughs, though it ends in a relieved sob. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Nope,” Tony interjects. To Peter’s surprise, he presses his lips into his hair. “You broke the seal. It’s Tony now, kiddo.”

Peter relaxes more fully against Tony’s hold, his adrenaline fading, the aches and pains of the battle starting to hit him like a freight train. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he says quietly, so only he can hear.

“Oh kiddo-”

They hug with the intent of never letting go.

-----

Later that night, safely back on earth, Tony finds Peter in medbay. Though bandaged head to toe himself, he’s running around busily by Bruce’s side, helping treat the rest of the team. Tony stands by the door, crossing his arms and admiring the sight with a warmth in his chest.

Thor comes to stand by his side. “Your son saved the world today.”

Your son. Tony doesn’t bother correcting him. “He did.”

“And by lifting Mjollner. That is no small feat.”

Tony smiles. He can’t help it. “I know.”

-----

When the chaos dies down, Tony tracks Peter to a vacant couch in the lab. He’s sprawled out on his back half asleep.

“Pete? What are you doing down here?”

Blinking sleepy at him, Peter shrugs. “S’quiet down here. Familiar. I missed it.”

His eyes sting again. God, Stark. Pull it together. “Mind if I sit?” he asks.

Peter shakes his head, moving to accommodate Tony with a smile. “I talked to May,” he tells him. “She’s safe. I’ll be able to see her tomorrow once the roads open back up.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yeah. Ned and MJ too. Everyone- everyone is safe.”

Tony smiles. It really is over. “I did it all for you, you know.”

A short silence. Peter shuffles to sit up further, his hair disheveled. “What did you say?”

“I did it all for you,” Tony repeats, looking stubbornly at the wall. “Time travel, I mean. I invented time travel to get you back.”

Peter chokes. Doesn’t speak.

“I wasn’t going to do it at first,” Tony continues, “when they first asked me. But then I saw this old picture of us and- and I knew I wouldn’t be able to live another day without at least trying.”

“Tony-”

“Five years was too long. I should have done it sooner and I’m sorry.”

“Tony!”

Finally, he looks. The kid’s eyes are glistening, his cheeks flushed red. Then, he smiles. “I can’t- I don’t- I don’t know what to say.”

Lips quirking, Tony pulls Peter into his side and ruffles his hair. “You don’t have to say anything, kiddo. You saved my bacon today more than once. By wielding a magic hammer, for the record.”

Peter makes a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat. “That was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”

A phrase pops into his head, something that Peter had told him years ago. “With great power comes great responsibility,” he says. “Your Uncle would’ve been proud.”

Peter moves to look at him, brown eyes impossibly wide. “You remember.”

“Of course I do. Don’t insult my memory. I know it’s been five years but I’m not that much older-”

Peter chuckles. For a moment, they sit in perfect silence. Tony could live in it for a hundred lifetimes.

“Thanks for bringing me back,” Peter whispers, eyelids drooping.

“You’re family Pete. Family stays together.” He pauses, smiles. “Speaking of which… you have a little sister.”

“What?!”

#peter parker #tony stark #protective peter parker #endgame #endgame fix it #mjollnir #peter is worthy #hurt peter parker #peter parker whump #found family #irondad #irondad fic #my fic #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure

41 notes · View notes

thesweetestkimberry · 4 years ago

Text

it’s you

pairings: hanta sero x reader

summary: a panic attack is never a fun thing, but luckily, you have your boyfriend to help you through it.

warnings: READER HAVING A PANIC ATTACK, cursing, OOC characters, also contains a dash of latin sero

notes: this was inspired after i had a panic attack of my own, unfortunately i did not have a sero to pull me out of it, so here’s this piece to hopefully help those of you who need someone, even if they are fictional. also in some places i wrote it a bit more personal than most, i hope you all don’t mind

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

numb

that’s all you felt

body no longer felt like your own and your breathing uneven

you cried

we’re you crying? you couldn’t feel the tears running down your cheeks. you tried to move but you felt as though you were trapped inside your own head, the attempt to claw your way out seeming impossible.

you didn’t notice your phone constantly lighting up with notifications and missed calls, your chest tightening, further disrupting your ability to breathe properly.

you wanted to scream, but no sound came out, you wanted to cry out and call for help, but the voice in your head told you no.

you felt like you were suffocating.

then you heard heavy footsteps, shouting, rapid knocking, and eventually the muffled sounds of someone approaching you could be heard.

“(y/n)?...”

sero was in the common room with some other classmates, some hanging out, other eating or studying. he and kaminari were playing a game on their phones when momo and iida shared the idea of ordering pizza.

“aw yeah, pizza!” his friend cheered, bakugou threatening him to keep the voice down. sero looked up when iida walked up to him, hand chopping the air as usual,

“sero! please inform (y/n) that we’ll be ordering pizza, you should ask her what kind she’d prefer as well.” the red eyed boy said, brows furrowed behind his lenses as your boyfriend shot him some thumbs up, “you got it boss.”

“speaking of (y/n), where is she?” mina asked from her spot in the couch, upside down as she scrolled through her phone,

“she’s in her room, said she had some work to do.” he says looking down at his phone, hitting your contact and smiling at the name,

[✨ Mi Amor ✨]

he quickly shot you a text asking you what you’d like on your pizza, setting it down for a moment and looking back at your friend who’s brows were furrowed, “(y/n) never does work.” she says as bakugou arches a brow, “you could stand to be a little nicer.” he says as she chuckles, “shut up you know it’s true.” she finished with a sigh.

“if she says she’s doing work, that usually means she doesn’t want to be disturbed because she’s feeling out of it.” mina explains, sero looking up at her in question, “she doesn’t do it often, but lately she’s been pretty down.”

kaminari also looks at your friend, “how come just yesterday she was looking like she was having the time of her life?” he asks genuinely confused, “you dumbass spark plug, just because someone looks happy doesn’t mean they are.” bakugou shouts at him, remembering all you’d vented to him.

“she always says she feels like a bother, although she never is. she doesn’t want anyone to “waste their time on her”.” she says, accentuating your words with air quotations.

while they discussed you, sero continued to message and calls, noticing that you still hadn’t responded. he had zoned out of the conversation, so focused on you, until what mina said next made him shoot up and dart to the elevator up to your room.

“it’s times like those when she gets these really bad panic attacks-“

he couldn’t hear his own pounding footsteps as he exited the elevator and made a mad dash to your room.

finally getting to your door, he rapidly knocked, his concern only growing more when you didn’t answer, “i’m coming in!” he warned, turning the knob and entering your room.

“babe?” he called out, however getting no response. it wasn’t until he saw something by the bed, seemingly balled up under a sheet.

“(y/n)?...” he said gently, crouching down on his knees to uncover you, only for his breath to hitch when he took a look at the state you were in.

having familiarized himself with the symptoms, he knew you were having a panic attack. he pulls your hands away from where they were digging into your arms, creating deep crescent shapes, one or two of them beginning to bleed.

he thought about ways to ground you, coming to a conclusion that he had to go with a method aizawa had actually taught him.

“hey, baby, i’m here. all you need to do is listen to my voice and try to answer okay?” he tried gently, lowering his head to try and get a better look at your face, only for his heart to clench at your disassociated eyes, a sense of brokenness and anguish hidden behind your eyes. the ones that looked so bright on a good day, the ones that sero fell in love with.

after getting no response, he still decided to begin the grounding anyway, “babe, give me five things you can see.”

at first you gave no reaction, worrying him a bit. he stared at you as he bit the inside of his cheek, nerves getting to him however there was no helping you unless he could keep his own fears and anxieties at bay.

he repeated his instructions and let go of one of your hands to pet your head, gently running his hand over it in a comforting way. as he did this, he took notice of the knotted, oily feeling of your hair. he felt saddened by this, knowing right away that you’ve been suffering in silence and not taking care of yourself.

he was about to repeat his instructions for the third time until he felt your hand lightly squeeze his,

“y-you...” was her first answer, sero immediately letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “good job baby, four more.” he encouraged, sitting in front of her and running his thumbs over her hands, the feeling becoming apparent for you as you slowly regained control over your body.

“..the lights..” the fairy lights he’d bought you when you mentioned how you missed the ones back home.

“the pictures.” the photos on your wall, a collection of both from home and from UA.

“a book.” coincidently, the book had been one that sero had bought you for your birthday one year.

“my hands.” were the last thing you said, the hands that sero held so gently in his, almost as if you were made out of the finest china and he was worried he’d break you.

even though you’d succeeded in completing the first part, you still felt trapped. sero noticed this as well and continued, this time, more determined to help you.

“great job baby, now give me four things you can feel.” he said scooting closer, trying to hear if your breathing had returned to normal, however hearing it continue to be uneven and jagged.

“yo-you...” your voice caught, sero still getting your answer loud and clear. the fact that you had the same answer didn’t go unnoticed by him, but as long as you were responding, that was enough.

“the carpet..” he noticed you wiggling your toes, socks still on, and rubbing against the fluffy carpet beneath you, lightly stained with various foods and other substances, each however a memory.

“my hair..” you said, head dropping slightly as your curls brushed against your face, ticking your skin.

“warmth.” you finished, body twitching slightly and feeling the warm interior of the hoodie you were wearing, sero taking notice that it was his.

“you’re going an amazing job (y/n), now give me three things you can hear.” he encouraged again, gently lifting your chin and resting his forehead against yours. your breathing had returned to normal but you still sat rigid and tense.

“you.” you whispered making sero arch a brow but continued to stay silent. you’d also fallen silent, and if he could imagine little ears atop of your head, he’d imagine that they were twitching in search of sound.

“my-my music.” the fact that you’d given him your second answer almost immediately after the first made him grin. you were right, your music played softly in your room, the feeling of the melody encasing you both, bringing you out little by little.

“our friends..” you said with a shaky voice, noticing your eyes welled up with tears again. sero smiled sadly at you and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, “we’re almost done, you can do this, i’m so proud of you.”

“two things you can smell.” he instructed, chuckling a bit at how you sniffed the air, even if snot was running out. not seeing a towel or napkin around, he pulled his sleeve over his hand and cleaned you up a bit, smiling once he heard you sniff again and your nose was clear.

“you.”

“do i smell bad?” he joked, knowing you were slowly coming back out, figuring if he made a joke it would help pull you out. you exhaled from your nose and shook your head slightly.

“well that’s good. what’s next cariño?” he urged, tucking a strand of hair out of your face and behind your head, revealing more of your face to him.

“..pizza?...” he sat back slightly and sniffed the air as well, lightly laughing at the fact that the air actually did smell like pizza,

“one more, give me one more baby.” he said cupping your face and lifting it up to meet his eyes. “one thing you can taste.”

your knees finally relaxed and stretched out, arms no longer tense as they ran up his neck to his face. you didn’t answer immediately, only pulling him in to meet your lips, his hands flying to your neck where his thumbs ran over your cheeks,

“you.” your voice was now more certain, even if there was a shaky exhale after it. you pulled away and looked into his eyes, his clean sleeve coming up to wipe your tears away while you both let out light laughter.

“thank you.”

“you don’t need to thank me, love.”

“i love you.” “i love you too”

he stood up and offered you his hand, letting you take it and pulling you up off of the ground. with a groan at how sore your muscles were, he chuckled and kissed your cheek,

“how about you go take a shower and i’ll be back with some pizza?” he asks unsure if you were okay to be left alone just yet, however his nerves were put to rest as you offered a small smile and a nod, “sounds great babe.”

sero watched you make your way into the bathroom, not leaving until he heard the water to the shower start.

turning and making his way out of your room and back to the common room, he let out a heavy sigh when he entered the elevator, hand running over his face as he groaned.

he was so scared for you.

the look in your eyes, the way your body trembled, your choked sobs and broke look left a sour taste in his mouth. once the door dinged and opened, the scent of pizza wafted into the compartment he was in, walking into the living room with eyes falling on him.

“is she okay?” momo asked him as he nodded with a soft smile, “yeah she’s good now. just came down to get some pizza for us.” he explains gesturing to the mountains of pizza boxes.

“we got you and (y/n) a half and half! half with your toppings and half for her.” she said opening a box and revealing both of your favorite pizza toppings. “wow! this is great, thank you!” he says appreciatively while kaminari slides up next to him.

“you were gone for a while, you get some lovin’?” he teases his friend, elbowing his side, only to get gently shoved away with a chuckle, “it’s not like that man, we’re just gonna hang out in her room, watch movies, kick it,” sero explained as kaminari laughed and patted his shoulder, “go for it dude.”

entering your room again, sero saw you sitting on your bed, criss cross applesauce while you dried your hair. sero laughed at your childish position and set the pizza down.

noticing something, he was about to ask, only for you to beat him to it, “would it be alright if i borrowed your sweater? it smells like you.” you ask as you last the towel down, finally standing and walking over to him. “of course babe.” he says placing his hands on your shoulders, then moving to fluff your hair, the slightly damp strands sticking to your face,

“your hair is really soft after you wash it.” he says ruffling your hair making you giggle at the attention, his hand went back to their spot on your neck, holding you in his hands as if you were everything, his everything, and that was exactly what you were.

he let you go and went over to your bed, pulling the blanket you usually kept on top aside and sitting down, reaching over to grab the pizza. he set it down beside him and opened the blanket, patting the empty space next to him for you to hop in.

you curled into his side and let out a laugh at the sudden burst of happiness you received, “if you steal the blankets i’m going to put my cold feet on you.” he says making you squeal at the feeling of his cold feet against your leg.

he pulled your laptop into the space between you two and handed you a slice of your pizza, quickly finding a movie to watch and pulling you into his side with an arm around you.

with a sigh of content and a small smile gracing your lips, you leaned your head on sero’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

his free hand found yours and interlaced his fingers with yours,

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

#sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero hanta #mha hanta sero #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hanta sero imagine #seroxreader

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gustafsnightangel · 4 years ago

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Shattered Lives Ch 39 Pt 1

The noise that filled the apartment woke her up, the sheets cold on Gustaf’s side of the bed telling her he’d let her sleep in. In the few days since the visit from Uncle Elias the kids had hardly been home. Gustaf taking them out for lunch and the movies, Stellan and the boys going bowling, and the pajama party with Valter and Gustaf’s two youngest brothers last night. She could hear Gustaf chatting to Stellan through the ajar door, the boys settling back in after the overnight with grandpa. The happiness in their voices made her smile, far less grief than this time last year, not a hint of anger or sorrow. She heard Gustaf get them situated before he came in, smile wide, damn she loved that smile, the look of him.

“Hey there lovely lady.” He murmured sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning down to claim her mouth. God the man knew how to kiss.

“Hi.” She breathed out, wrapping her arms around him securing him to her. “Sounds like the monsters are back.”

“They are, and they’re excited that we leave for the cabin tomorrow.” His kiss lingered. “Time to get up, lots to do.”

“Yeah, I need to take them shopping later for snacks, I promised them one treat each for the trip.” She kissed him sweetly. “I’m starting to regret my decision as it means I have to take them out in public.”

He chuckled, those laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “What were you thinking?” He said, the sarcasm thick.

“I wasn’t, that’s the problem.” She snorted, thumb brushing his crows feet. They both laughed at the squeak of dad dad as Lily padded her way into the room all excited, Gustaf picking her up and kissing her until she giggled. “Someone had a good time away.”

“Dad said she was running the house as soon as she woke up this morning, keeping the boys in line.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.” She muttered. Just looking at him with her in that instance made her belly flip, the whole kids of their own thought sailing through her head like a bright neon sign. He placed Lily on the bed and she crawled over to Sildie for cuddles while Gustaf took a shower.

“He’s much happier today huh little lady.” She murmured as Lily snuggled in. She’d been worried, the days since Elias had been brutal on him. She’d phoned Elsa and dealt with more paperwork while Gustaf was shut up in his office laying down the law with his lawyers and security team. She’d never heard him so angry, the shreds he’d stripped off the building security, the anger and fury that had unleashed again as he made arrangements to have Dana’s entire family under surveillance. Especially when they were informed he’d made bail and the trial wouldn’t be until April 5th. Sometimes the system just sucked and so did the timeframe. She also knew that being away for filming over the next few months was making this whole situation far worse, she sensed his anxiety already poised to drag him under. It was a clusterfuck and added pressure he didn’t need.

“I’m going over to mums for lunch today, she wanted to chat about the whole Ana thing.” He said as he came out wrapped in nothing but a towel, setting all her wild fantasies aflame. “She’s... concerned.”

“That’s one way to put it.” She said softly. “Do you need us to be there?” Her voice was quiet, apprehension he thought.

“Not if you don’t want to be.”

“I do, I just don’t want the kids around when we’re talking about all that, about her.” She would protect them from it as much as possible. “They don’t need that in their lives.”

“I already told mum it would just be me.” He toyed with her wisps of hair at her face and kissed her tenderly. “For exactly those reasons, and I also know that Eija and Alex are there today too, family meeting about it really. I’ll get them up to speed. It’ll be fine.”

“You know the spiel as well as I do now anyway.” She trailed a finger along his jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His thumb brushed the dark shadows marring her cheek, it still made his anger flare. He tossed a shirt and jeans on and collected Lily from the bed. “Up you get love, I’ll make some tea.” He kissed her quickly and went to see why the boys were suddenly so quiet.

She could hear them play fighting as she dressed, and smiled. The beginnings of their family, fun times, happy memories, they’d build more tomorrow and over the coming weeks. The ruckus she came out to made her chuckle, three boys tackling the fourth freakishly tall one. He was a big kid at heart, that gorgeous smile plastered across his face, not a hint of anxiety or stress in him. They were both eager to be in the mountains away from everything for a while.

Leaning against the counter she watched, videoing what she could. She laughed as Lily came to the rescue of her dad dad, the boys laughing, so carefree and happy, just as it should be. Gustaf could never fully understand the precious gift he’d given them, stability, love, a family. He’d brought them together as a family unit. “I hope you’re seeing this brother.” She muttered under her breath. “He loves them as if they were his own.” Her smile went wide as Lily tackled Gustaf to the floor, the boys cheering. She fisted a hand and tapped it on the counter thinking. “He’d make a great father.” She whispered, her breath catching. Breathing out a steadying breath she saw Gustaf calm them down and leave them to play some Mario cart.

“They’re ready to go when you are, they’ve had breakfast.” He chuckled, that gorgeous smile lighting up his face as he stopped in front of her, fingers reaching to toy with the soft waves of her hair she’d left down.

“I love seeing you this happy.” She said, hands cupping his face and kissing him sweetly.

“You make me this happy love, so do they.” He kissed her, sensing something had knocked her off kilter a little. “I love you Sildie, the five of you are my world.”

“You’re ours sweet man.” She smiled, her kiss lingering. “Go have a good lunch with your mum, we’ll get some snacks and shopping for the trip. I need to get Lily another jacket, she’s grown out of her other one and the twins need new boots.”

“Fun times.” He grinned.

“Joyous.” She said sarcastically at his chuckle. “Go on. Get going.” She swatted his ass and took a sip of her tea. His arched eyebrow at her butt slap had that mischievous smirk tug her lips.

“A very dangerous game to play kitten.” He growled and devoured her mouth thoroughly.

“Text me your dinner order, I’ll pick something up.” She said changing the subject as her body melted at his touch.

“Mmmm hmmm. Will do lovely lady.” He purred. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

He could tell something was bothering her, more than her usual grief and the shitstorm that Ana had created, the way it had dragged Elias and Dana’s side of the family into the mix. So much going on in that wicked smart brain of hers. He knew she was piecing something together but there was something else she was chewing on. Walking across the street to his mothers he thought about the conversation they were all about to have, the steps he would take, had taken, to protect them all, those measures Sildie had already put in place. They would rally around him, protect him, protect Sildie, the kids, like a family should. It still irritated him that he had to resort to such drastic measures of security and legal restraints but he was out of time, options, and patience.

Sildie and the kids hit the mall, John, their shadow as she like to call him, following their car and staying a respectable distance from them as they shopped, eyes ever watchful. She felt bad for dragging the guy out on a chilly afternoon for them to go shopping, but if this was going to set Gustaf’s mind at ease while he wasn’t here with them she wasn’t going to argue. He was already under enough stress and pressure, he didn’t need anymore. She didn’t think Ana would blatantly harm her or the kids, but there was always the what if, the maybe. Those thoughts that raced through her head a mile a minute. Just look at Elias, she thought bitterly. Not in a million years did she see the connection between him and Ana coming.

Her lawyer brain kicked in as she helped the twins find shoes. How did he fit into it? How did he know her? Was he just a junkie? Was Ana just his supplier? Something more? Had there been a relationship between them? Was Elias part of the syndicate? Was the rest of Dana’s family involved? How far did Ana’s claws dig in? Questions she hoped would be answered when the law finally caught up with her. After that, it wouldn’t take long for Elias to sing, to rat on her to save his own ass.

With a new coat for Lily and new boots for the boys, Brendan included because his toes were already touching leather from the pair she’d bought a few months ago, they stopped in for ice cream. It was their weekly thing, an after shopping treat that had carried over from Dana that she didn’t have the heart to stop, especially when mint chocolate chip was involved and it kept a part of their mother with them.

With groceries in hand they headed back to the car, John helping with the heavier stuff, boys laughing, and a chattering Lily in her arms playing with the zipper on her new coat. As they neared the car the happiness of the afternoon turned to ash and vinegar in her mouth as she looked closer.

“John take the kids to your SUV please.” She said quietly and handed her bags to him. “Brendan, take Lily please and get everyone in the car with John, stay with him ok?” She saw the shock on the teens face, the questions of, who and why echoed there. “I’ll explain later.” Was all she heard herself say as she approached her vehicle slowly.

The windows had been smashed in, seats ripped, red paint covered every surface inside as if a paint can had exploded. The vulgar messages on the doors, the paint splattered and shattered windshield. She felt the panic attack surge up, the nausea and lightheadedness threatening to consume her. “Breathe.” She whispered and sucked in a breath. “Just breathe, the kids are ok, it’s just a car.” A car Gustaf had bought for her, for the kids. He’d bought it to take care of her. Pulling out her phone she took photos of it all and texted them straight to Detective Holmberg, her phone rang a moment later.

“Sildie it’s Leon. I’m on my way. Are the kids somewhere safe?” He said hurriedly. She could hear him moving as he spoke. “Are you safe?”

“Yes they’re with John our security detail, in his car.” She didn’t like how pathetic and shaky her voice sounded. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t touch anything.”

“I haven’t, I just took pictures.” As she was speaking to him she noticed a blonde woman watching her a few cars over. It took her a second to recognize her through the haze of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through her system. “Ana’s here, a few cars down from me.” She snarled, an overwhelming urge to cut a bitch slammed into her so violently the anxiety flipped a one eighty into full on lethal rage.

“Don’t approach her, pretend she’s not there. We maybe able to box her in, I’ll have the parking lot cordoned off.” Which she could hear him relaying that order as he drove. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

“Ok.” She would not crumble and give Ana the satisfaction, and she would not retaliate. She wanted to though, oh how she wanted some divine retribution right here, right now at her own hand. Everything she’d done to get at Gustaf, to cause him more pain, more grief. Yes, she thought, I’d like to have a knock down drag out with you, you vindictive bitch, she thought as her gaze flicked to Ana and then back at the car.

Calming the rage her thumb hesitated over Gustaf’s number. She knew she had to make the call or he’d be more furious at her for handling it on her own, especially after what went down with Elias. But part of her wanted to spare that sweet soul of his any further pain. She choked back a sob as she knew this would hurt him, cut into him so deeply. Her rage gave way to anxiety once more as she stared at his number. All that peace he’d found these past few weeks was ebbing away. “Together.” She breathed and hit dial, the sick feeling in her stomach growing with every ring.

“Hey lovely lady.” She could hear the joy in his voice and she was about to shatter it.

“Hey handsome.” She breathed, anxiety rising.

“You ok?” He went on full alert, he knew that tone, something had happened.

“I’m fine, so are the kids, the car not so much. Not an accident.” She blurted out quickly and held back the sob.

“Ok, good to know.” His gut threatened to abruptly launch his meal out via his teeth. “Talk to me love.” He said gently at her sudden silence.

“Ana’s here, she vandalized the car and is sitting a few cars from me. I’ve called Leon, and he’s just pulling in.” The lawyer had surfaced to take care of the situation, he could hear it in her voice, but it shook.

“God fucking damn it!” He roared, his temper snapping out. She could hear the chair he was sitting in get pushed back explosively, crashing to the floor. It was the last straw for him, she knew it would be and felt sick for it.

“Gustaf, take a breath, please.” She stayed calm, her voice quavering with the tears that threatened to fall. She was only just holding it together. “Were fine, the kids are in the SUV with John at my request. I’m not in any danger and Leon is here.” She willed her voice to not shake. “He just pulled up.”

“I’m on my way to you.” He seethed, he would fucking murder the bitch.

“You won’t get in they blocked the car park so she has no where to go.” She tried for calm, her voice betrayed her as the anxiety surged forward again.

“The hell I won’t.” He spat and she heard the unmistakable slam of a car door. “I’m on my way.” The line went dead.

She’d never heard him this angry, never had him be so short with her. New Year’s Eve was one thing, confronting Elias another, but this? This was an entirely different level of anger, explosive, reckless, and violent.

“I take it that was Gustaf?” Leon asked coming to stand beside her.

“Yes. He’s on his way and rather angry.” That was the understatement of the century.

“Quite rightly.” Holmberg muttered. “Where is she?” He asked, paying particularly close attention to a spot on the drivers side door as he spoke.

“Your eleven o’clock, four cars down, blue...” She said softly, only flicking her eyes to make sure she had the details correct.

“I see her.” He texted the location to his team and let them handle it. Before Ana could tear her eyes away from Sildie and the mayhem she was gloating over, her car was boxed in and police were hauling her out.

Sildie wasn’t interested in the takedown, or the profanity spewing from Ana’s mouth as they cuffed her. She turned her back on Ana, not giving the woman another moment of recognition. It was difficult not to retaliate, because she wanted to, she wanted to March right over there and lay her out cold for what she’d done to Gustaf. Rarely did Sildie want to get into a physical altercation but she was certainly ready to make an exception in this case.

She peered into the car once more, her focus drawn to the rear view mirror and what was no longer hanging there. “She took it.” Her choked tone had Leon turning sharply.

“Took what?” He asked, but she couldn’t answer him, her voice had ceased working as the grief swallowed her whole. Silent tears tracked down her cheeks and she felt her world bottom out. As they placed Ana in the back seat of the police cruiser she felt familiar arms around her, turning her slowly until she was breathing in that familiar scent.

“Sildie.” Gustaf sighed, the relief that she was ok flooding into him. Eyes searched for John’s car and landed on him a moment later, the respectful nod saying the kids were fine setting his mind at ease.

“Sildie, what did she take?” Leon asked again softly as she buried her face in Gustaf’s chest and wept.

“Something missing?” Gustaf asked flatly looking at Leon with ice cold eyes.

“All she said was she took it.” Leon shrugged.

Gustaf leaned down to peer into the car and his temper went nuclear. “I will fucking murder her.” He snarled, holding Sildie tighter to him. “The charm from her rear view mirror is missing, the one her brother gave her.” He said evenly, barely able to contain the contempt in his voice.

“I’ll need you to check the rest of the vehicle to see if anything else is missing.” Leon’s voice had turned flinty.

“Give us a minute ok?” Gustaf asked, he had to talk Sildie off the ledge of a panic attack and stuff his violent fury back into its box.

“Take your time, it’ll take us a while to process this mess.” Leon said and moved away.

Gustaf stood there, soothing her as best he could when he knew all she’d be able to feel would be the waves of anger rolling off him. “You’re ok love, I’m here.” He murmured. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed. “I’m sorry... the car.”

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong, look at me.” He said tenderly trying to get his anger under control. “Look at me love.” When she did it crushed him. “I’m the one that should be sorry for dragging her into your life.”

“But the car.” She hiccuped.

“Is just a car. It’s insured. I’m more livid about what she took from it.” His rage banked as he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, she needed him to be calm. They were both stressed and him letting the anger gain the upper hand wasn’t the answer. He’d have time to unleash later.

“It’s gone.” She sobbed.

“It is love, I’m so sorry.” This was tearing her apart and cleaving his soul into pieces. That charm wasn’t something he could replace. He couldn’t fix it.

“Oh shit, the kids, they’re still with John...” she said hurriedly swiping the tears from her face, realizing she didn’t have the luxury to fall apart. “And I just left...”

“They’re perfectly fine, look.” He pointed to the SUV and the kids waved back.

“We have to get them home.” She sniffed pulling it together, it was a stupid charm, it wasn’t like someone had died, she berated herself.

“How about you hang here for a little bit and help Leon out while I go and grab a new car seat for Lily? Because we can’t take anything from the car and her seat is trashed.” He said softly.

She let her gaze drift over to the items already being bagged, spare shoes, sweaters, and Brendan’s hockey gear. “Leon? Can you open that bag real quick.” She asked pointing to Brendan’s gear.

“Paint in the bag too.” Leon said sharply.

“And his mask.” Sildie sighed, before another sob broke free.

“I’ll have another made love.” Gustaf said softly.

“It’s not the same.” She sniffed. “You had that made for him, your first gift to him. You have no idea what it means to him.”

“I know it’s not the same love.” He pulled her into a hug while Leon was trying his damnedest to wipe the paint off the teens hockey mask. “I might be able to take it back and get it cleaned and refinished. I’ll figure it out, I’ll fix it. Somehow I’ll fix it.” He kissed her temple and lingered, willing his system to calm down so in turn he could soothe hers. “Are we able to get this stuff back at some point?” He snapped at Holmberg and immediately regretted his tone. It wasn’t Leon’s fault, Gustaf was just on a razor thin edge.

“I’ll get them back to you as soon as I can.” The detective looked at Gustaf, yes, he thought, Leon was pissed too, good.

“Appreciate it.” He kissed Sildie softly. “Go sit with the kids a moment ok? I’ll get Lily a new seat and we can go from there ok?” She just nodded and walked to John’s car. The slump of her shoulders told him this had kicked her hard.

“I knew her brother.” Leon said quietly. “My wife was close friends with Dana. I’m doing everything I can Gustaf, but I have to stay within the confines of the law, so do you. Don’t go doing anything crazy, get a good attorney and take the spiteful bitch down.”

“Do me a favor.” Gustaf said bluntly. “Search Ana’a car real quick for that charm, or her pockets. The rest of this I can replace, that I can’t, and it will destroy Sildie if it stays missing.”

Leon nodded. “Go get Lily a car seat, I’ll look myself right now and call it in for when they process her at the station.”

“Thanks.” He huffed and scrubbed a hand over his face. As he started to walk away he turned. “I’m sorry, for snapping earlier.”

“Not necessary, I’d be a little snappy too considering the circumstances.” Leon said, a tight smile gracing his lips.

“Well regardless, I’m sorry. There was no need for it, you’re only trying to help.” He wasn’t that person anymore, to rage without reason, without sucking it up and apologizing like the man he was trying to be.

“All good.” Leon said, clasping a hand of Gustaf’s shoulder and squeezing it in support.

He knew he could be an insufferable prick when he put his mind to it or the rage swamped him, that wasn’t him anymore. “And that’s what you’re hoping for isn’t it you fucking bitch.” He muttered as he walked to the baby store across the street. “You’re hoping to get me so riled up I’ll snap. Well I’m way past that. Coming after me was one thing, going after Sildie was the biggest mistake you ever made. By the end of this you’re going to wish you’d never fucking met me.” He said with conviction.

She explained it as much as she dared to the boys, the plea in her eyes to Brendan to just go with it so she could explain more when they were away from the twins. His tight nod all she needed to have some measure of relief. She watched Gustaf walk back to his car and fit the new seat. This will destroy him, she thought, all that peace he’d found obliterated in the instant she’d phoned him. Destroying another life, just like she’d destroyed the boys. It was a spiral, she knew it was happening yet she was powerless to stop her thoughts diving so deeply out of control. It was all too much and she’d reached her tolerance level of bullshit.

She hopped out of the car as he approached and went to him.

“Load the kids up and head home, love. Take care of them and let me worry about all this ok?” He said gently, he would be her calm now as he knew she was far from done today. “You ok to drive?” A nod was all she could give him. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I need to get them home before Lily implodes.” She said trying her damndest to pull it together, she had shit to take care of not wallow in self pitty.

“I’ll stay here with Leon until the car’s towed and then go hire one for our vacation. I’ll send John back with you to help with the groceries ok?” He watched her carefully and was concerned.

She nodded and leaned her forehead against his chest, breathed him in, his scent soothing her jagged emotions.

“That’s it love. Breathe a minute. It’ll all be ok, you and me, we’ll fix it.” He murmured and stroked the nape of her neck tenderly.

She let herself just exist for a moment, collect the shred of composure she was clinging to and pulled it together. Drying her eyes she kissed him softly, the grief he felt already echoing in his eyes.

“There’s my girl.” He said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll be home a little later. Do you need me to send mum over, or dad? A sibling? I have plenty to spare.” His attempt at humor got the chuckle from her he was hoping for.

“No, I’ll be ok.” You won’t be, he thought, but nice try.

“I love you Sildie. Together love.” He kissed her tenderly.

“Love you too, not letting her win, it just knocked me a bit.” She sniffed.

“I know, me too, but we’ll knock back harder.” He kissed her brow and looked at her. “Come on, I’ll get Lily bear settled, because I can hear her starting to ramp up for a full on I’m tired and hungry meltdown.”

Gustaf helped her get the kids settled in the car, fielding questions from the twins as vaguely as possible. “Text me when you get home.” He said softly.

“I will.” Her voice was that eerie quiet he didn’t like. It only got like that when she retreated into herself and it killed him to see her like that.

She seemed to be on auto pilot as she drove home, aware enough to drive, but not really caring about what was happening around her. John helped her get the kids inside, the groceries for their trip piled on the counter. With the kids occupied she sat in her office, the process of writing notes about the incident clearing it out of her mind as the words appeared on paper. Gustaf’s text tone interrupted her asking if she’d got home and she swore, she’d forgotten to text him.

We’re home. I’m so sorry I zoned and totally forgot.

It’s ok love. You’re all home safe that’s what matters. I’m headed to hire a car, be home soon. Is John still there?

He left a little while ago but he said they have someone watching the building. He stayed until we were settled.

Ok, that’s good.

I love you.

Love you too lovely lady. I’ll be home soon.

He came home an hour or so later and could hear Sildie reaming someone on the other end of the phone in her office, door shut tightly.

“She’s been in there for nearly an hour.” Brendan said quietly.

“You know who she’s flaying?” He asked carefully and the kid shook his head.

“I haven’t seen her this mad since she yelled at grandma after mum and dad...” He stopped suddenly and shook his head not wanting to voice the rest of the sentence.

“Well she’s super upset about the car so I’m not surprised.” Gustaf said carefully, he wasn’t sure how much he should divulge.

“Why would someone do that?” Brendan asked as he walked with Gustaf to the kitchen out of the twins hearing.

“I don’t know B.” Gustaf sighed, he was beat to hell and he knew he’d have to talk Sildie down before she imploded. “The short version ok, because I’m beat to hell.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to collect his thoughts. “It’s an ex girlfriend, the ex girlfriend, the one that screwed me up. They arrested her and things could get a little messy. Your mum has had to bust ass on making sure you guys are safe and it’s all just a little too much for her today.”

“Is that why we have John and Andrew come with us everywhere?” The kid was a quick study.

“Yes. I promised Sildie I’d keep you all safe too.”

“Oh.” The teen looked a little shocked.

“I love you guys, you’re my family Brendan and there’s absolutely nothing I won’t do to protect you, to make sure you’re safe, that Sildie’s safe.” He said softly as the teen hugged him tight. “Absolutely nothing.” His head came up at the sharp shout from Sildie’s office and he decided he needed to get in there and deal with it. “It’s getting late, you guys eaten yet?”

“Yeah we got something on the way home, there’s some here for you too. We weren’t sure when you’d get home.”

“Thanks. Can you get the twins in a bath or shower, I need to go see if she’s ok. Did the cold groceries get out away?”

“Yeah they’re away.” He said and started to unpack the rest.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

#gustaf skarsgard #gustaf skarsgard fanfic #shattered lives

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cthulhuliet · 4 years ago

Text

my high hopes (are getting low)

2.6k words [total 13k words] (part one) (part two) (part three) | AO3 Link | warnings: homophobia, use of slurs, dubious morality, completely unnecessary religious references, implied/referenced self-harm

‘Cause my High hopes are getting low because these people are so old The way they think about it all If I tried I would never know

Light Yagami's world view is shifted after a conversation with his father concerning L's sexuality. Anger in his veins and unconfessed feelings bubbling to the surface, L and Light have a chat about sexuality, morality, and homoerotic hand washing.

Light entered the task force headquarters quietly. There was no one sitting in front of the large monitors for once, but they were still streaming the footage from the cameras in everyone's room. He looked up and on a smaller screen he saw L’s room; the detective quietly working on his laptop.

Walking to the elevator with purpose, Light rode it up to the floor L was staying on. The path to his room he had taken so many times over the months they were chained together, he wouldn’t be surprised if his footsteps were burned into the hotel-esque carpet he was walking under.

He stood outside L’s door, and it was only then that Light felt a slight nervousness creeping over him, hovering behind him. He sent Ryuk away (distracting the flighty Shinigami with a basket of apples in a blindspot of the cameras) so he knew it was his own anxieties over the looming conversation with the man.

“The worst he can say is no,” Light told himself.

He punched in the code to enter the room. The lock clicked and Light walked in, immediately meeting L’s gaze, his wide eyes narrowed with confusion.

“Light,” He said simply, closing the lid of his laptop, “I was mildly concerned about where you had run off to since you did not return with the others,”

Light shrugged, “Am I not free now to leave headquarters whenever I want? I am not chained to Matsuda,”

L pressed his thumb to his lips, “Yes, I feel as though there would be even more physical altercations between you two than there were with us.” Light didn’t respond, and his eyes scanned the room, noting how the room had changed. The typically neat coffee table was now scattered with papers in L’s messy handwriting. The bed which Light himself really only slept in seemed to be untouched since the last time he was in it.

L’s cross the room, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It is late, Light, and you have your own room. Did Watari forget something when he transferred your belongings into your space?”

Chuckling, Light shook his head, “A few days ago we were together 24/7, now it feels like you are trying to get rid of me.” L’s expression was unreadable, so Light continued, “I actually wanted to talk to about something, Ryuzaki,”

“Oh. Is this in regards to the Death Note?”

“Oh, uh, no. This actually has nothing to do with the case,” This surprised L, his expression flickered with an emotion Light could not place, “Forgive me for assuming, but were you tapped into the conversation that the rest of the detectives and myself had at Shirokuma?”

L rubbed his feet on top of each other, looking pointedly away from Light, “I choose not to come to the bar with you guys, why would I know what was discussed?”

“That is not what I asked, Ryuzaki,”

L bit his lip and sighed, making his way over to his laptop. Light followed as he was inputting his password, “Fine. I was able to tap into the bar security system and observed you all using the cameras there. There is no audio.”

Light smiled in spite of himself. His suspicions about L observing them had been on the mark as usual. He knew the man all too well.

“Well, at one point, in the conversation, we began discussing you.”

“Naturally.” L tapped his lips with his index finger.

“And Aizawa told us something, Ryuzaki, something that he was told by Wedy and Aiber,” L’s tics stopped immediately. HIs face flickered with that same emotion from before, but this time it lasted longer, and Light could now see it was panic on the young detective's face. “I am sure you can piece together what was discussed,”

L crossed the room, staring at an old blackboard that had information about the Yotsuba group. Light could sense the nerves radiating off of L, but he was doing his best to act unaffected by the news.

“I felt as though disclosing my sexuality to everyone would cause unnecessary problems. I have kept it to myself for long enough, I have gotten quite good at hiding that part of me away. Moreover, my preferences are not important to the Kira case, so there was no reason to bring it up in the first place,” He faced away from the board and looked at Light, sorrow in his expression, “I will not apologise for that. However, I do want to apologise to you, specifically, Light,” L bit his thumbnail, looking down at the carpet, “I realise now that being handcuffed to someone who you now realise is attracted to the same gender could be seen as uncouth. I would be lying if I said the implications of it had not crossed my mind a couple times. I did not want to bring it up because I feared it would have created unnecessary tension, and I assumed you would never find out. I am sorry, Light,”

Light shrugged, “I am going to be honest, I never would have guessed,”

“Like I said before, I am good at hiding aspects of myself away for the comfort of others,” L expression changed when he told Light; the eye contact was more intense and vengeful, and Light got the feeling they were not talking about queerness anymore.

“Ryuzaki, I want to assure you your apology is unnecessary. I completely see why you did not disclose that information to me. You have a right to your privacy.” He sighed, sitting down on the bed, “I am only sorry that you got outed,”

L stayed silent and Light inspected the laces on his shoes, wanting to take them off but not wanting to look as though he was getting too comfortable around L- this was a difficult conversation to have and he wouldn’t blame him if he kicked Light out at a moment’s notice.

“I can only assume the others did not take it well, and that is why you are here,” L stiffly shoved his hands in his pockets, Light could only assume it was to prevent himself from biting his nails down the stubs- a bad habit he noticed of L’s after their months together. L interpreted Light’s silence and sighed, rubbing his feet over one another, “Hm. Well. I suppose it could have ended worse,”

“Ended?”

L sat down next to Light on the bed, maybe a little too closely, but it somehow felt too far. L blinked slowly at Light, and he felt a harsh pang in his heart looking L in the eyes, “Us, the detectives, you and I… We will be parting ways soon.”

The silence hanging over the room was palpable. Light wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew he was right. Just hours beforehand, he was working and making plans for L’s demise, “Ryuzaki.” Light kept looking at L, “It doesn’t have to be that way,”

L looked at Light, vulnerability and heartbreak in his eyes, “There was never any other way,”

Even though he was unable to place precisely why, he felt his anger rising, Light clenched his fists, venom dripping in his voice , “Why are you speaking like this, Ryuzaki? Stop talking like it’s over, like you have no choice,”

L pressed a thumb against his lips, softly speaking, “Well, it is no longer up to me, is it, Light?”

They had been at this impasse for a while now, ever since those many months ago when L revealed himself to Light at To-Oh. The task force may believe his act of innocence, and Misa may believe he is just being clever, but L and Light have known the truth for a very long time. So much has happened since then, so much has changed. It is hard to say whether or not Light had evolved after all this time, and Light still believed that after all everything, he is still the same. And yet, the hard truth is, deep down, Light has changed. Maybe it is the conversation he had with the task force and Ryuk only hours earlier, maybe it is the months of being together, maybe it is the greys in his morality that were previously drained from Light’s world coming back as quickly as it did when his memory of the Death Note were returned; Light was looking this complicated, quiet man in the eyes- Hideki Ryuga, Ryuzaki, L, and he finally has to confront the truth he has been putting off for so long: he doesn’t have the strength to let L die.

Light tore his gaze away from L, idly flooding with his thumbs. They didn’t speak for a while. L pulled his knees up to his chest and bit the skin around his nail, neither of them sure of what to say.

Light sighed, catching L’s attention. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, “Ryuzaki, do you know who one of my biggest inspirations is? Who I attempt to model my life after?”

He pondered this for a moment. “Your father?”

“Correct,” Light responded, staring at the carpet, “He always had such a strong sense of right and wrong- a strong sense of justice. Being raised by him was a privilege in more ways than one. He taught me so much about honor and fairness at such a young age. I respected my father more than anyone else in the world,”

L dropped his finger from his lips, “Respected?”

Light sat up straight, his body stiffening. He dug his nails into his knees, keeping the previous embers of anger smothered, “When we were at the bar, talking about what Aizawa had said, I almost understood where he was coming from. Older generation. It is no excuse, but I felt as though it was something to agree to disagree on. And then...” Light cut himself off, balling his fists. He winced in pain at the previously made cuts on his palms, releasing his grip.

L inspected his motions, and slowly moved closer to him, “Light.” He softly grabbed his wrists and opened his palms, the raw, angry half-moon cuts still indented into his palms. “You’re hurt.” L rubbed the marks on his palms slowly and with care, but it still caused Light to wince slightly.

“He said that if he ever found out I even kissed another man, he would kill me himself,” He spoke softly, almost unsure if the words escaped his throat.

L stopped his small movements over his hands. Wordlessly, he made his way to the bathroom and came back with a damp washcloth and hydrogen peroxide. He sat next to Light again, dampening his hands with wet cloth.

“Light’s father said that he would kill him if he was gay,” L spoke softly as he washed his hands with the washcloth, “This made Light angry, and hurt himself,”

Light stayed silent for a moment, L moving onto his right hand to wash, “It sounds foolish now,”

“I don’t think so,”

Swallowing thickly, Light responded, “I just always regarded my father so highly; I saw him as this honor bound man with a strong moral code. But when he said that to me… Something shifted. He can be this man with a strong sense of justice, but has ideals that are so backwards,” L looked like he wanted to say something, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He instead poured the alcohol onto the wash cloth, telling Light it was going to sting a bit. Light already knew this. “I was upset. There are worse things in this world than a boy kissing another boy, and there are so many incredible people through time who were queer, and even now. To write them all off because of something like that is foolish,”

L nodded, “So, you were upset because of your father’s narrow view on the world?”

“Yes,” Light watched L’s careful hands as he rubbed over and inspected every cut, “The way they think about it all… If I tried I would never understand…” L’s fingers lingered on Light’s hand for a second longer before moving onto the left hand. He felt his heart beating in his chest, “And I have to be honest… There may have been a personal vendetta as well,” He said softly.

L’s movements stopped completely, hand resting in hand, as he looked up. He inspected Light’s face, his eyes wide, “Light, you are telling the truth this time, aren’t you?”

Nodding, he tore his gaze away from the other man, “Yes. You were honest with me, it is only fair,”

“I didn’t have a choice,”

“You could have denied it,”

“Would you have believed me?”

“I don’t know,”

L stayed silent. He pulled his hands away to put more rubbing alcohol on the washrag. Light knew the cuts were already clean. He didn’t mind.

“Your father found out I was gay,” L grabbed the back of Light’s hand with one of his, and wash the palm with the other, “He said that he would kill Light himself if he ever kissed someone of the same gender. Scorchio assumed himself to be speaking hypothetically, but you are gay. The connection follows that Light realised that no matter how much his father loves him, he would still want him dead because of something out of his control,” Light said nothing, paying close attention to the movements of L’s hands and the words out of his mouth, “Light went to the bathroom once that was said, broke down, and hurt himself,” L looked at Light, genuine concern in his eyes, “Do I need to worry about future self-mutilation?”

Light shook his head, “No. It was one time, and an accident. It was just… Jarring to hear,”

“I can imagine,” L pulled his hands away, “Do you need bandages?” Light shook his head and L nodded, “I understand,” He went back to the bathroom to wash his hands, and came out. “So, you are here now,” He sat back down next to Light.

“Ryuzaki,” He turned to L, “After I found out. I got angry. I was filled with rage and didn’t know what to do with it.” Light swallowed steeling himself for his next sentence, “I wanted to hurt them. All of them,” L’s expression didn’t change or warp like he expected it to. He almost wanted to laugh.

Right. Stalemate.

“They are writing you off because of it, and they would do the same thing to me if they knew. I was angry, I still am. Hurting them won’t change anything. They aren’t going to change their minds either. They need to be taught a lesson, all of them.”

L blinked slowly at Light, “Light. Tell me. What are you doing here?”

“Revenge. But I need your help, Ryuzaki,” L said nothing, Light talked quicker, “I have an idea. But it involves you, and I need you to be fully on board,” Tilting his head, he looked skeptical, “Ryuzaki, aren’t you tired of it all? Are you sick of just waiting for things to get better, constantly having to hide that piece of yourself, terrified that if it came out everything would fall apart?” Light sighed, “The whole damn system is broken right now, way beyond our repair. We both know that. But I am not above some payback, and I know you are not either,”

L put a thumb to his lips, pondering. Light could almost hear the internal monologue he was having with himself, but the words are muddy in his mind, as his heart was thumping loudly into his ears. The debate ended, and L looked back into Light’s eyes, a small smirk grew behind his thumb, “What do we need to do?”

#death note #light yagami #l lawliet #lawlight #my writing #dn #death note fanfiction #part 2 babey lets send it #let me know if you like #this is short but y'all aren't ready for part 3

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getinthering · 4 years ago

Text

Day 4: Future

@taangweek Day 4: Future

“taking time to make time”

When they first met, they were little more than kids. Ten years had felt like a lifetime, and for the first time, Toph felt herself scared for what the future may hold.

[A/N: So here’s just a bunch of ~angst + fluff~ for Day 3. I feel like I can go on about angst forever but I’m not very good about fluff oops]

Read on AO3

There hadn’t been a time, since she had left her family and home to travel with him, where she didn’t trust Aang with all she had. Even in her darkest moments, she always knew two inarguable truths: he was the Avatar, and he held her heart in his hands. Because of that, she knew that he could never lead her wrong. It was why he was the only one that got to see Toph—tough as nails, no-nonsense, the-greatest-earthbender-in-the-world Toph—at her most vulnerable.

It was less hard now than it had been when they were sixteen, but there was still a hesitation to share her fears with him, to let him know she was afraid at all. She wasn’t the fidgety type, as Katara might have been. Instead she stood in the doorway to the courtyard, leaning against the frame, looking on as her husband meditated. Her mind raced as she debated between approaching him or staying where she was.

Before she could make a decision, Aang stood and turned to head for the house.

“Toph,” he breathed happily, taking each of her hands in his and placing kisses on her knuckles. “Good morning, my love. What are you doing home? I thought you had work to do at the Station today.”

“No, I decided I needed a day off,” she said simply, anxiety rising in her stomach like bile. It was an alien feeling to her, and she hated it. She had always been in control of every situation, knew her senses would not fail her and that she could handle anything. But she couldn’t fight her way out of this.

Toph, having been raised into nobility

(and being a stubborn, guarded woman her whole life)

was not an easy person to read, emotionally. Aang was the only one who came close and he could tell that something was off, there was something she wasn’t telling him. It was rare she took a day off from her work, even as she neared the seventh month of her pregnancy. A strike of fear to match hers shot through him like lightning as his thoughts raced with awful scenarios. “Toph, is something wrong? Tell me.” His hands released hers and anxiously touched her bulging abdomen.

She let out a shaky sigh and gingerly placed her fingers on his chest. “It’s nothing. Can we go inside?” she asked, feeling exposed out in the openness of their yard, like someone would be listening in on them, hear her being so weak.

Aang nodded and led his wife inside, unwilling to remove the arm wrapped around her waist. They made their way to the sofa and he folded her neatly against him, her head on his chest, one hand in her hair and the other on her waist, feeling the taut way her skin stretched. He planted a kiss into her hair and murmured, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Toph’s own hand came to rest next to his over her belly, trying to discern if it was their son or just her own nervousness moving inside of her. She suddenly wished he hadn’t seen her like this, that she had just gone to work and buried it down like she did with everything else. She wasn’t even sure how to put words to the feeling twisting sinisterly through her gut. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that it was Aang here with her, that he had made a vow to take care of her without judgment, and that she had made a vow to let him.

“I’m just scared,” she said hesitantly, almost too quiet to hear. “I’m scared of what’s going to happen to us, to our work.” She gripped his shirt and buried her face into his chest for a moment.

“Aang, I’m scared I can’t do this.”

Aang had always been the soft one in the relationship, the compassionate empath. He comforted others with kind, gentle words and affection. For her, it was usually warm, stoic silence and a reassuring embrace. She had never ever expected that he would respond to her confession with an immediate, hearty laugh. Yet there it was, echoing through the room.

Stunned, she bolted upright, glaring at him with a flabbergasted, betrayed expression. She had confessed the most terrifying thought she’d ever had to the man she loved and trusted and he was laughing at her? Outrage rumbled through her—fists curling, nostrils flaring—before Aang spoke.

“Toph, that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.” He reached out for her, his hand stopping on the crook of her elbow, thumb stroking gently. “You have no reason to be scared. You’re Toph Beifong, the most powerful earthbender the world has ever seen. There is not a single thing you can’t do.”

The angry crease set across her forehead smoothed out and her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers reached up to gently touch his as he continued, “I have seen you take out men twice your age and three times your size like it’s nothing, invent an entirely new type of bending. I’ve seen you overcome every obstacle life could throw at you. You can do this. And then you’ll learn how to be Chief of Police and a mother at the same time, and you’ll make it look easy.” He paused to lean over and place kisses along her cheek, trailing down to the nape of her neck.

“And as for us?” She could feel his eyes burning into her, hear the honey-sweet affection dripping from his voice. “Toph, this is going to be the greatest thing to happen to us. From here on out, we’re going to be a family. We’ll have someone to pass our world onto, someone to reap the beauty of everything we’re creating.”

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Toph smiled and put a hand on his cheek to guide her lips onto his. She remembered now why she let her strong façade down around him, remembered that his tender affection made it worthwhile. His cheek crinkled under her palm as he grinned at her. His hands found her waist again and he playfully pulled her into his lap.

“And think about how mad your parents will be. We’ll be raising our kids all wrong.”

They both burst into giggles and she tilted her forehead onto his. She couldn’t remember how she had ever been afraid of anything with him by her side.

#honestly writing stuff like this is so funny bc irl i have a huge phobia of pregnancy #like clinical #but i can tolerate it in fanfic?????#taang week #taang week 2020 #taang #atla #my fics

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zoryany · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! Not sure if you’re still taking request for ficlet prompts but 67 with Luke + Padmé pleaseeeee!!! ❤️

send me ficlet prompts – optionally include characters67 – My father may look like the scary one, but it’s my mother you need to be afraid of.(you sent me this SO LONG AGO and I’ve been wanting to answer it SO BADLY but lacked the inspiration until now. it kinda got away from me, ended up being more skysolo than I intended, and I accidentally created a new AU but ahh, I hope it was worth the wait!)

Gripping the controls of the speeder tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, Han Solo shifted nervously in the pilot’s seat. His passenger, looking incredible as always in his simple yet finely made black tunic and trousers, had the audacity to appear completely casual and not at all bothered. How in all the hells was Luke so calm?

Han licked his lips and furrowed his brow. Was he sweating? Why was he so nervous? He could out-shoot any bounty hunter, out-fly just about any pilot and charm the slime off a Hutt – he could do this, too. It was just meeting someone’s parents. He was good with people, so this should be no exception, right? Why should this time be any different?

Oh, right, that’s why, Han thought to himself as the Palace came into view. This time, the parents I’m meeting just so happen to be in charge of the entire kriffin’ galaxy!

He really did seem to have a particular kind of luck with his romantic interests, didn’t he?

“Relax, Han,” his companion soothed, resting a hand on his shoulder and tracing gentle circles there with his thumb. “They’re really not as scary as everyone makes out. Trust me. They don’t bite.”

“Nah, but I’ve seen what your old man is capable of,” he replied without thinking, instantly regretting it when the hand on his shoulder tensed, slightly.

“Yeah.” Han could practically feel the conflict and guilt radiating from the seat next to him, and he was ready to cut in with profuse apologies and lay himself down at the mercy of the court, but a wry laugh from Luke stopped him. “He makes a point not to do anything… to enforce the will of the Empire at home, so you should be good.”

Han didn’t miss the hesitation or the irony in those words, but Luke was smiling, at least, so he relaxed a little bit.

“Besides,” Luke continued, shrugging, “Father’s not the one you need to worry about. My father may look like the scary one, but it’s really my mother you need to be afraid of. And, well, my sister too, probably. Father’s protective, definitely a force to be reckoned with, but it’s no match for the bond between a mother and her child, or the one between twins.” A pause. Then, almost as an afterthought, “They’re also both politicians. Nothing is more dangerous than words.”

The grin on Luke’s face had taken on a wicked quality, a slight level of menace in his voice, and Han suddenly found himself sweating profusely. “Tell me again why this was a good idea?”

Bright peals of laughter filled the speeder as Luke had a good chortle at his expense. Han grumbled as the kid nudged him playfully and moved his hand to the back of Han’s neck, fingers snaking their way into his hair. “Relax. I’m just messing with you. Mostly. It’s gonna be fine. I promise. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

Oh. That boded well.

***

As Luke approached the private entrance at the back of the palace, he had to admit to himself that he shared at least some of Han’s trepidation. Not quite to the same extent, but a hint of dread prickled at the back of his neck nonetheless.

“Look, Han, I – I know I said I had a good feeling about this. And I know I assured you everything would be fine, but…” He hesitated. While he wasn’t nearly as eloquent as his mother or sister, he was unaccustomed to being as at a loss for words as he often found himself when he was around Han. Something about this smuggler made him feel more like a farmboy than the prince he’d been raised as. Normally, he didn’t mind, but this… this was important. “My family can be a lot. And, well, we’ve only known each other a few weeks, and all. So, I mean, if you’re not ready – ”

“Hey,” Han cut in, resting a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I know how much this means to you – how much your family means to you. You think it’s time we all meet then I trust you.” He grinned, cheekily. “Don’t go thinkin’ you can get rid of me that easily, Your Worship.”

Rolling his eyes, Luke returned Han’s grin before nudging him with his elbow. “Alright, alright. Let’s get going, then. No point in putting it off.” He could still feel a healthy level of anxiety rolling off of Han, but his good-natured ribbing and confident stride made Luke feel a bit more at ease.

At least, it did until they stepped into his family’s sitting room and saw the look Leia was giving them.

“Y’know,” she said slowly, her voice smooth and silky, “I was sure I’d seen the height of your stupidity already.” She wore a dangerous smile on her face, one Luke knew far too well, and it only grew wider when he scowled at her. “I was sure you couldn’t do anything more idiotic than the time you took Father’s speeder out for a joy ride and thought he wouldn’t notice. But I think you’ve really outdone yourself this time, well done.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The look of delight on Leia’s face had quickly become the most accurate impression of an anooba playing with its meal before devouring it that Luke had ever seen. “Disappearing for weeks on end, leaving us nothing but a cryptic note, no hint of where you’ve gone and hardly a word from you over holocall, then showing back up here with this scruffy-looking scoundrel in tow?” Behind him, Han bristled, which really only served to feed into Leia’s amusement. “Honestly, Luke, I’m impressed. I mean it! The fit Father threw when he found out was spectacular, I haven’t seen anything like it since – well, the speeder incident, actually.”

Despite how entertained Leia seemed by all of this – and there was a vein of genuine amusement in her words – Luke could also sense her underlying worry. Nobody else would be able to detect the tension in her body, the shadow of concern in her eyes, the minute tremor in her voice… She was his twin, and he suddenly felt incredibly guilty for leaving her, even temporarily.

I’m sorry, Leia, he muttered through their bond.

Don’t you dare pull anything like that again, or I might have to strangle you.

With Han oblivious to their silent exchange, Luke decided to mirror Leia’s outward attitude as he raised a brow at her then turned to his “scruffy-looking scoundrel,” who looked like he was trying to decide whether to be terrified or irate. He ended up landing somewhere in the middle. “Han, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Her Royal Imperial Highness, Princess Leia Naberrie-Skywalker, my dear, lovely sister and twin. Leia, this is Captain Han Solo, my – ” He hesitated a moment, glancing at Han as the word caught in his throat. They never did decide what they were going to label their relationship as to his family. Han just gave him a small shrug and a short nod, prompting Luke to just pick something, for now. “He’s my companion.”

“Believe me,” Leia drawled, the delight on her face melting into a much colder, calculating look, “the pleasure is all mine.” Her eyes were piercing as she looked Han up and down, causing him to shift under her gaze. They lingered for a moment as she came to whatever conclusion she had about him before flicking them to meet Luke’s. “Mother’s expecting you in her parlour. Better not keep her waiting.”

All the warmth had left his sister’s voice, by now, but he could still feel her quiet concern. Leia sent him a silent Good luck as Luke led Han towards his mother’s chambers, a fresh knot of anxiety tying his stomach into knots as they went.

***

“Well,” the kid said quietly next to him, “that’s one down.”

Han rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if maybe he should’ve turned back when Luke gave him the chance, but tried to cling to a shred of optimism nevertheless. “If your mom’s anything like your sister, maybe I would’ve had more luck meeting your dad, first. Wasn’t expecting to get eaten alive like this.”

Luke chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, trust me, it’s for the best that Father’s off-world until tonight. Leia’s all bark and no bite and Mother… you do have to earn her respect, but she’ll give you a fair chance to do so. Father, on the other hand…” Pausing a moment, he bit his lip while searching for the right words. “Well. You said yourself. You’ve seen what he can do.”

He knew full well how much Luke idolized his father. Pure admiration flooded his baby blues any time he brought him up, especially when he’d neglected to share with Han the little detail of his true line of work. It was unnerving, now, to see the discomfort in his face as he discussed Vader, but Han did have to admit to the relief he felt in knowing Luke’s devotion didn’t overshadow his moral code.

They reached the door to the Empress’ parlour before Han had a chance to say anything in response, so he just sighed and glanced down at Luke. “Well, I s’pose it’s now or never.”

Nodding in response, the kid gave the door two sharp raps before pushing it open and leading Han into a large, pleasantly decorated room. The floor was covered in a plush, bright crimson carpet except for directly in front of the fireplace at the far end of the room, which was lined with dark, smooth stones. Artwork lined the walls, from lavish paintings of lush worlds to intricately woven tapestries to complicated abstract works Han would never understand even if he dedicated the rest of his life to interpreting them. The room was furnished with two large, gold-trimmed sofas and a matching armchair that resembled a throne, all encircling an ornate golden table. Han felt entirely out of place, surrounded by this much luxury; even Luke didn’t look quite at home in his surroundings.

The woman before them, however, matched the decor perfectly. Dressed in a flowing, deep blue gown and a sheer, silvery cape, with a golden circlet perched atop the chestnut curls that cascaded past her shoulders and down her back, she stood regally in the centre of the room, awaiting their approach. Trying to keep himself from staring, Han fell into a kneeling position next to Luke, who was the picture of contrition.

“Mother. I have returned home, and I beg your forgiveness for my unannounced absence.”

Having spent the first several weeks of their relationship unaware of his royal status, Han had never imagined Luke’s voice could sound so regal. It sure was a far cry from the naive, chattering kid who’d struck up conversation with him in a run-down shipyard on Ord Mantell. He had to admit, the change was a little spooky.

A few moments passed, feeling like hours, considering how nervous he was, but it wasn’t long before the woman strode forward and wrapped her arms around Luke, pulling him up. “Luke!” she breathed, pulling him into an embrace. Han suddenly felt like he was intruding on something very private. “My son, it’s so good to have you home.” She pulled out of the hug and gripped his shoulders, a stern look etched in her features. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again! If something had happened to you – What in the stars possessed you to do something so rash?”

Luke never did tell Han why he’d run in the first place. Sure, he’d asked, but the kid would get evasive every time he did so eventually he dropped the subject. Under his mother’s gaze, now, it was a lot more difficult to dodge the question, but Luke still seemed determined to do so.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the Empress sighed, brushing her fingers through his hair. “We can discuss this later, when your father returns.” Luke stiffened but bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Now! Are you going to introduce me to your guest, or were you planning on leaving him to kneel at our feet all day?”

Han’s head snapped up and he met Luke’s eyes, who nodded at him to rise. “Mother, this is Captain Han Solo of The Millennium Falcon. I’ve spent the last several weeks in his company, and the two of us have grown… close.”

He could practically feel the kid’s cheeks flush at his own choice of words. Thankfully, the Empress herself appeared to be plenty amused, and she offered Han a brilliant smile that left him somewhat weak in the knees. He could see what Luke meant about her being the dangerous one. There was something so very disarming about this woman and her charm, and he’d met enough charming women to know to be on his guard.

“Truly, I’m charmed, Captain,” she said, voice ringing like a bell as she slipped into formality. “Luke has a gift for befriending the most… fascinating of people.” After offering him another bright smile, she turned to face her son. “Luke, go prepare the guest room, please? If he’s to be staying with us, he’ll need proper accommodations.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary, Majesty,” Han sputtered, “I got my ship, and – ”

“Nonsense!” The word was light and pleasant, but she somehow infused enough authority into it that he knew there was no point in arguing. “As a friend of my son’s, you are welcome in our home.”

Han was sure they had servants or droids who could set up the bedroom, and even if they didn’t, he was more than capable of doing it himself. He didn’t see why she was sending the Prince to do it. “Well, alright, if you insist, but Luke doesn’t have to set up for me, I’m happy to get it myself.”

“No, no, you are our guest, and we your hosts.” Her deep eyes glimmered with something dangerous. “My son has brought you here, and it is proper etiquette for him to see to your comfort here. Luke? If you will?”

Luke wore a somewhat confused expression that he turned from his mother to Han, but his hesitation was brief as he bowed slightly and muttered “Yes, Mother,” before he set off towards the parlour door.

Turning to follow, Han was frozen in place by a sharp tut from the Empress. “Not yet, Captain Solo. Sit. Relax. I’ll have some tea brought, and you and I can get acquainted.”

From the doorway, Luke shot an alarmed glance in their direction and looked, for a second, as though he was about to protest and insist on staying, but his mother’s expression brooked no argument. Pressing his lips together in a thin line and putting as much reassurance into his eyes, Luke gave Han a final nod before disappearing from sight.

Now alone with the Empress, in her domain, the smuggler couldn’t help but feel he’d landed in a krayt’s den and was about to find out just how dangerous this woman could really be.

After gliding towards the lavish armchair and perching on it, she indicated one of the sofas and stared at him with a pleasant yet sharp look. “Sit,” she repeated, and Han’s legs complied, of their own accord. As he did so, a protocol droid filed in and set down a tray carrying a steaming teapot, a bowl of sugar, cream, and four teacups. “How do you take your tea, Captain?”

With a lot of alcohol, he thought.

“Black,” he said, and she poured him a cup. He muttered an awkward thanks as she handed it to him.

When she’d fixed her own cup and taken a sip, she zeroed in on him, expression growing hard. “Now, Captain, I will be blunt.” Her voice was cold in a way it hadn’t been before, bearing an edge to it that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand at attention. “My son has a heart the size of the galaxy itself, and he’s prone to giving it away far too easily. That isn’t to say I do not trust his choices, nor do I believe him to be a poor judge of character. He has faith in people, believes in their strengths and capabilities and their capacity to do good.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen that part of him,” Han agreed, thinking back to all the down-on-their-luck Mantellians whose lives were just a bit more comfortable now, thanks to Luke.

The Empress nodded gravely. “Then I’m sure you know how easily he places that trust in those who may not deserve it. In the past he has been drawn to… the wrong sorts of people, and it’s gotten him into trouble more than once.”

Those words were pointed, they referred to him, Han knew, and he found himself scowling at the most powerful woman in the galaxy. “I can assure you, Your Majesty,” he ground out, “that I have no intentions of being the wrong sort of person for your son.” That would cost him, he was sure, but he felt the need to defend his – and Luke’s – honour, even if it meant snapping at the kriffin Empress herself.

Raising a single brow, she regarded him with an appraising stare, dark eyes seeming to burrow right into his soul. “See that you aren’t,” she said evenly. “There are precious few things in this galaxy, Captain, that I treasure more than my children and their wellbeing. So long as you are in Luke’s favour, you will be treated well, I assure you, but if you bring him to harm…” The threat lingered in the air for a moment. He got the message.

He maintained her gaze and held his ground. “Look, lady,” he said, far braver than he had any right to be, “I ain’t suicidal, I’m not about to go messing with your family, and I’m definitely not gonna hurt Luke. Don’t think I could handle his face if I did – looks too much like a kicked puppy when he’s just a bit disappointed, can’t imagine it when he’s genuinely hurt. Besides, seems to me he’s got enough pain in his life without me contributing to it. Now, I may not be some high and mighty noble or anything, and what the kid actually sees in me is anybody’s guess, but, dammit, he’s got me carin’ about him, and anyone who can do that is worth protecting, in my books.”

Well, Solo, you had a good run. Always knew that mouth of yours would be the end of you, just never expected to go quite as dramatic as running it in front of the Empress and getting executed. If only Lando could see you now…

Silence echoed deafeningly in the chamber, which now felt far larger than it actually was, ready to swallow him up. The Empress was staring at him, eyebrows raised, gaze flicking over him again. After what felt like an eternity, the barest shade of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Very well, Captain Solo. Perhaps you will do well here, after all.” For the first time she’d spoken to him, her voice carried genuine warmth.

All of a sudden, he could breathe again, a wave of relief crashing over him as he sank into the sofa and sighed. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll do my best.”

“See that you do.” A pause. “Now!” she chirped, “Luke should be finished with your accommodations by now. I’ll send Threepio to fetch him and my daughter, and we can all get acquainted properly over some tea. Yes, I think that sounds lovely.”

There was no way anyone he knew was going to believe this. He wasn’t sure he even believed it himself. But, sitting here in the Imperial Palace having tea with the Empress and her children, he couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d gotten himself into this time…

#luke skywalker #padme amidala #luke and padme #han solo #skysolo #padme naberrie #padme survived #vader killed palpatine #somehow convinced her to become empress #twins are royalty #and of course luke is restless and runs off to hook up with han #because he's luke and an idiot #beaurozguru #lol this is over 3k words long #i did NOT mean to go that hard lmaoooo #my writing #star wars fic #imperial royal skywalker family au

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peaceoutofthepieces · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Lucky Me

Square Filled: Date

Pairing: Jens Stoffels/Lucas VDH

Trigger Warnings (if applicable): None

Created for @skamevents

I spent all day writing this. Got very distracted by Sander cutting his hair. Happy Pride Month ❤️

~^~

Lucas isn’t surprised when Jens tells him to come over. That isn’t an unusual occurrence. Now that his family knows about them, Lucas is there almost more frequently than he’s in his dad’s flat. So on the short trip to Jens’s house, Lucas isn’t thinking about anything out of the ordinary.

Then Jens opens the door, and he looks nervous, and Lucas thinks maybe this isn’t the usual invite.

“Hey,” Jens greets, leaning forward to kiss Lucas on the cheek with a twitchy smile. Lucas brushes a hand through his dark hair and draws him into a proper kiss, carding through the short strands at the back of his neck until he relaxes.

Then he pulls away and returns, “Hey.”

Jens tugs him inside and shuts the door, taking Lucas’s coat once he’s shrugged it off his shoulders and hanging it up in the hallway. He takes Lucas’s hand and pulls him towards the sitting room. Lucas follows easily, though watches him with a curious gaze. It turns completely confused when Jens stops them at the door and turns around to place his hands on Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas raises a brow. “Are you okay? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“Okay, so. Maybe this was a stupid idea, and we can totally just ignore it if you want. My parents aren’t home so I mean we can—if this just seems boring or pointless to you I’m sure we can find other ways to spend the time.”

“Jens, what are you talking about?” Lucas laughs slightly. “What are we doing?”

Jens bites his lip, then gives a broad roll of his shoulders and opens the door.

The lights are off, and the room is instead lit by a string of multi-colored Christmas lights. They’re hung over what appears to be a carefully constructed blanket fort. The inside is lit up by the glow of Jens’s laptop and stuffed with a variety of pillows and cushions and more blankets, but that’s not what catches his eye.

“Is that a Pride flag?”

Making up the back of the fort, hung on the wall and lit by the Christmas lights, is a rainbow Pride flag. Lucas looks at Jens, at the awkwardly nervous expression still on his face, and he begins to understand. He only needs to make sure. “What is this?”

“It’s a date.”

“A date?”

“Yup,” Jens pops the ‘p’, turning to look at Lucas fully with another smile. “To celebrate the start of Pride month.”

Lucas stares at him.

Jens’s smile falters, and he lets out a sigh before taking Lucas’s hands. “Okay. I noticed you’ve been kind of...quiet the past few days, and especially today, and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I was talking to Robbe, after he posted this morning. And you always comment on Robbe’s posts, but this time you didn’t, but he told me you messaged him instead. He was talking about how weird it was, how he never expected himself to be making Pride posts with his boyfriend and planning to go to the parade and how he was a little freaked out by all of it. And I realised you probably are, too.”

He squeezes Lucas’s hands and Lucas looks down, taking in a shaky breath. He shouldn’t be surprised, he supposes. Jens has always been able to figure him out, to understand what was going on in his head even when Lucas couldn’t. He’s always been good at putting him at ease. “And you’re not.”

“It’s more that...I’ve never really thought about it. It’s never felt like a big deal. I like you and it doesn’t matter what that makes me. It doesn’t feel any different. Being bi, it was never some big hard realisation for me. I’ve never had to do anything about it. But I have been thinking about it. I know what it can mean. I know that things like Pride month, and everything, can feel great but I get that it can be scary. And I wanted to remind you that it doesn’t have to be.”

He lets go of Lucas’s hands to cup his face, taking a step closer and keeping their gazes locked. He strokes his thumb over Lucas’s cheek as he continues. “Being with me doesn’t change anything, and whatever time of year it is doesn’t change how you should be with me. There’s no...pressure. That’s not what it’s about. The people that matter to us are proud of us. We know we’re proud of us. You know that I love you, and I know that you love me. That’s all that matters.”

Lucas can only keep staring at him. Jens simply smiles back, and keeps stroking his face, and eventually tilts his forehead against Lucas’s, and Lucas leans up and kisses him. Jens responds immediately, wrapping his arms around Lucas’s shoulder as Lucas pulls him closer by the waist. He hadn’t really expected this from Jens. Jens is always a giver of silent support, but romantic gestures aren’t really either of their things. He’s heard Jens express his opinions before, knows that he can get passionate about the things he cares for, and is suddenly honored to realise he’s one of those things.

Jens presses a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, and his temple before resting his lips there and adding, “The fact that you still need time doesn’t change because this month tells you you should be loud and proud. You are proud. And I know you’d defend Robbe or Sander or Milan or me or anyone else in a heartbeat. But you’re allowed to want to be private, and comfortable and safe.” He gestures at the fort.

Finally, Lucas smiles at him. He draws him into a tight hug and presses a kiss to his jaw, then tucks his face into his shoulder. “That was very cheesy, and I can’t believe a blanket fort is what you came up with.”

“Hey, blanket forts are awesome.” Jens gives him a squeeze. “And harder to design than they look. I put a lot of work into this, y’know.”

“I know,” Lucas says quietly. “Thank you.”

It had been a decision Lucas made and Jens agreed with when they first got together. At the time, Lucas wasn’t even out to his friends. Since then, they’ve come a good way. Lucas had wanted to come out to Kes and Jayden and the rest of his friends back home first, feeling they deserved to know before his new group. Jens had waited, claiming that if he came out to his friends they’d figure out why immediately. They’d thought through each step before taking it together, and all of their friends and families know. Lucas had even managed to tell both of his parents without feeling like the words were being choked out of him.

But Lucas still doesn’t feel like he’s out.

He isn’t hiding. At school, if he meets up with the guys for lunch, he’s okay with sitting down right next to Jens and pressing a kiss to his cheek. At the skatepark, he’s okay with sitting in the circle of Jens’s arms at the top of a ramp. But they aren’t as free with their affection as Robbe and Sander are. Lucas isn’t as open and sure as Milan. He hasn’t made any kind of public declaration, whether that be in his life in Antwerp or Utrecht or online.

It isn’t that he isn’t proud. It isn’t that he’s embarrassed. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to show Jens off. It comes from something deeper down, an innate anxiety of portraying this part of himself that people may disagree with, or disapprove of. A deep rooted fear of hurt and danger and hatred. Being with Jens almost strengthens the fear on the worst days—it isn’t only himself Lucas wants to protect, but someone he loves. He would never forgive himself for hurting someone he loves. And he loves Jens a lot.

He also knows that that isn’t fair. Not to his friends or his family or his followers, or even to Jens, but to himself. He knows that, while he’s scared, it’s worth the risk. Jens, his feelings, and who he is—it’s worth the risk.

He just needs a little bit longer to feel ready to take it. He just needs to take a little time. Until he gets himself into a better headspace.

Of course, Jens does make it easier. Jens makes every aspect of Lucas’s life easier. His love makes it easier for Lucas to love himself, in a way he’d never let himself think about.

Jens kisses the crown of his head and hugs him for a few moments longer. “So, you wanna see how comfy this thing is?”

“I’m pretty comfy right here,” Lucas hums.

Jens huffs and steps away from Lucas, giving his hand a tug. He ducks carefully under the blankets, crawling in on his hands and knees. He settles himself carefully amongst a mass of cushions with a pillow tucked behind his back. While in the process of pulling a blanket over his lap, he realises Lucas hasn’t moved. He raises a brow in question. “Are you joining me?”

Lucas smiles and climbs in beside him. He settles in against Jens and lets him throw the blanket over their laps. Jens draws him in closer with an arm around his shoulders and Lucas lets himself relax into him.

“It is really comfortable,” he admits.

Jens lifts his laptop into his lap and says, “Told you. So, what do you wanna watch? Netflix doesn’t really have the best Pride date selection but I don’t have anything else, so…”

Lucas hums and considers it. “Something that we haven’t seen before? Something funny, if that exists. Or at least not that sad.”

“So, not Call Me By Your Name again. Okay.” Jens scrolls through the movies and eventually snorts. “King Cobra?”

“If I’d known you were trying to set that kind of mood I would’ve told you to just skip the movie part.”

Jens laughs. “What about...Alex Strangelove? That looks not-so-painful.”

“Sure.” Lucas doesn’t really care what they watch. He always pays more attention to Jens anyway.

Here, like this, with Jens next to him and his warmth wrapped around him, he feels at ease. This is his comfort, his warmth, his safety. He takes pride in it, sure, but more than anything, he finds joy. The anxiety that had been building all day and over the past week has finally given way to a sense of peace.

After a little while, he gives up. He twists himself around to face Jens and turns his face towards him, leaning up to give him a soft kiss. “You know, I am very proud to be with you.”

Jens hums and smiles at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m very proud of myself. I know what a lucky catch I’ve made.”

Jens snorts. “That’s good, you should be very aware of that.” He kisses Lucas’s nose.

Lucas raises a brow. “You’re not going to say you know how lucky you are to have me?”

Jens hums and turns away, pretending to think hard about it, before he turns back to Lucas with a shrug. “Nope.”

“Nope? Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re adorable,” Jens returns, pressing their foreheads together. “And I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Lucas hates that he blushes but enjoys the warmth as it seeps through his chest, spreading comfortably down into his stomach and leaving him molten. “That’s better,” he whispers. Jens hums again and then they’re kissing, film still blaring quietly in the background, Jens’s laptop resting safely on a distant cushion. “Where’s your bi flag?”

“Don’t have one,” Jens shrugs, mumbling the words against Lucas’s lips. “Stole this from Milan.”

“I can see you really put in a lot of work.”

“I can see you’re very grateful.”

“I’m trying to show you how grateful I am but you keep talking.”

Jens laughs and falls back against his pillow, grinning wide as he looks up at Lucas. Lucas props himself up on an elbow to keep looking down at him, hovering his torso over Jens’s and leaning down to kiss him again.

“Hey,” Jens protests. “I had this all planned out and you’re not even watching the movie.”

“Maybe we should’ve watched King Cobra after all.”

Jens laughs again and pushes his face away, so Lucas gives in and lies down beside him. He flings an arm over Jens’s chest and cuddles close to his side, pressing his smile to his shoulder in the form of a light kiss. Jens slips an arm under his shoulders and traces patterns on his back, content smile on his face as he determinedly focuses his gaze on the film.

“Jens.”

“Shhh.”

“Come on,” Lucas pokes him. “Jens.”

“God, okay,” Jens jokingly rolls his eyes before looking over at him. “My plans aren’t good enough for you, I get it. What?”

“Can we take a photo?”

Jens blinks. He tilts his head back as his brow furrows. “Why?”

“Just,” Lucas shrugs, struggling to find the words. “I thought it’d be nice. With the flag.”

Jens’s lips form a small ‘o’.

“Nevermind,” Lucas says quickly, lying back down on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “It was stupid.”

“Luc. Hey, Lucas.” Jens places his finger under Lucas’s chin and tilts his head up again, trying to meet his eyes. “Look at me. I didn’t say it was stupid.”

Lucas bites his lip. “I don’t—it’s not like I—“ he cuts himself off, sighing. “I just wanted it for myself, I guess.”

“Okay,” Jens says easily, already sitting up and pulling Lucas with him. “You have your phone on you?”

Lucas slips his phone out of his pocket as Jens wraps an arm around his shoulders once more. He tilts his head against Lucas’s as Lucas opens his camera. They’re far enough away from the wall that the flag is completely visible behind them. Lucas’s hand is steady as he snaps the picture, bringing it close then to examine it. It’s innocent enough, no different to photos he’s taken and posted with Kes before, if not for the flag behind them and the somewhat tender smiles on their faces. Something about the atmosphere or the vibe of it makes its intentions clear.

When Jens turns his head to press a kiss to Lucas’s cheek, Lucas takes the hint and snaps another photo, feeling his smile grow wider as the warmth in his chest expands.

It takes almost two months for those photos to be seen by anyone but them, when Jens posts the relatively innocent one and allows Lucas to post the other and makes his point extremely clear.

He captions it ‘Always proud to be with you’.

Jens is the first to like and comment, with a simple ‘lucky me <3’.

#skamevents #skambingo #van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #vds fic #my fic

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jenna-ortega · 5 years ago

Text

Let The Dead Rest

Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: Michael has to pick his selections, will you make the cut?

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smut, oral, tats about it luv

Never had you thought you’d be crunched in the corner of your darkened room crying in between your knees. Heart racing as the palms of your hands begin to create puddles from your nerves. Every week going by at this hell hole, you just get worse, and worse, and worse. Anxiety acting as if you could even get in a worse predicament than you were at this very moment. Eating what resembled jello cubes as dinner, waiting for that saving grace. Which would never come, you thought, until earlier that day a man brining only bad news would set you off in a way like no other.

Your head spun as he speaking his monologue without missing a word, confident as can be, as if he’d done this already. Fuck, he has done this already.

You never thought someone coming to rescue you would sound so bad. Worse than when you sat up all night wondering if it’d ever happen, knowing it will happen but...only for some, made the bile in your stomach climb its way up your esophagus and into the toilet you were hurled over. You wish you could keep the only cube you had for dinner down, but it seemed your nerves would get the best of you yet again.

Jumping from the toilet to hear three light knocks at your door, you stood up, wiping your mouth with the cloth next to the sink, walking to your door with both hands straight down at your sides, your purple gown flowing as your hand gripped the handle, pulling the door open for your eyes to meet Ms. Mead’s.

“Y/N, Mr. Langdon has requested you, please follow me.” your eyes widened at the short lady in front of you, gulping loud enough for it to echo it seemed, you did as she said. Followed her. For what felt like eternity it seemed, until you were standing in front of two black wooden doors. It’s as though all thoughts left you body, you were in a fog, panic taking over. Langdon had an energy that followed him. Intimidating, scary, you thought to yourself as the doors slide open to reveal the same man who promised a select few sanction.

“Hello, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you.” he was so well spoken, you thought to yourself as your eyes met, his hooded eyes taking in your aura, eyes glancing up and down at you. Smirking slightly as you stood silent, and completely still in front of him. Too nervous to realize it was your turn to speak.

“A woman of many words it seems...” he goes off sarcastically, “Please, have a seat,” he extended his hand out in front of him, directing you to the seat opposite of his. Your eyes roamed the dark tinted desk, papers scattered, a laptop...how did he--, whatever. Your thoughts jumbled together, looking around the room like a nosy cat.

Your eyes met the fireplace, the leather seats beside it, how non personal this whole room was to Langdon. Nothing that could tell you anything about him, just a sense of dread-

“You’re nervous.” his voice was flat. A statement of which he made, and not an observation. You caught wind of that.

“Yes.” you couldn’t lie to him or yourself, nervous was something that seemed so close to home for you. Something that’d never leave you. “Should I be?” your next question carefully spoken, immediately regretted.

He laughed lightly, readjusting himself in his seat so both hands were holding the desk.

“That depends, y/n.” his movement came to a halt, staying completely still. Staring at you until you uncomfortably looked away.

“Can you show me you’re worth saving?” your heart skipped a beat at his words. How can you show him that when you didn’t actually think you were in the first place. You looked down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs until you came up with anything to say back.

“We’ll continue this at a later time.” he hadn’t blinked once while he burned a hole in your face, getting up from his seat to open the door only after his icy stare stayed on you for what felt like minutes.

“It seems as though you’re not adapt to handle this at the moment. Have a nice night.” he slide the doors back open, placing his hands behind his back as you stayed stunned in his seat. Was this it? did you ruin every chance you had? It didn’t make sense anyway, he didn’t even give you a chance to say anything--

“Now, Miss Y/L/N” he hurried you out, slamming the door behind you faster than you had time to look back.

You felt like crying, something you weren’t unfamiliar with after the past few months here. Running back to your room to figure out what had just happened, what was going to happen, he has to give you another chance.

Days went by before you saw him again. The first glance you passed at him, he sent you what looked to be a sympathetic smile. It’s as though he’d left you alone after realizing the state you were in. But you wouldn’t give up now, you can’t let him think you’re weak, or that you’re not worth saving. You needed another meeting.

Making sure you were always in the right place at the right time was your forte for upcoming weeks, him taking notice one night when you were both in the outpost library,

“You’re getting good at finding me, y/n.” his raspy voice called from behind you as you hid your smile in the book you were pretending to read,

“You’re good at letting me find you.” you shot him a glance, noticing his taken aback look, surprised you were able to speak more than 2 words to him after the failed meeting he tried to conduct.

“Don’t give me any credit. It’s been all you.” he continued the friendly banter, finding a seat across from you, making a note of the empty space beside you on the couch, but deciding against it. Finding it more comfortable to meet your gaze head on.

His comment made you all of a sudden timid, blood rushing to your face as you noticed him ignoring his literature just to stare at you from across the way. It’s as though you’ve finally gotten what you wanted, another meeting with him, but were you ready for it?

“So. Tell me why we’ve been playing this game.”

You closed your book, placing it on the couch next to you.

“I think we should try that interview again.” you thought you spoke those words but soon realized they cam from his mouth, reading your exact thought.

“Yes. I’d like that very much.” you agreed, and your heart went right back to beating a million times per minute. Without the desk separating the two of you he felt even closer, one leg crossed over the other as he looked you up and down, observing you.

“Such a nervous little thing. I’m not going to bite.” his last statement accompanied with a laugh, easing some of your tension, you laughed with him looking down at the ground, gathering your thoughts.

“Tell me, y/n. Why do you deserve to come with me to my sanctuary?” his voice raising at the end, tilting his head slightly and squinting his eyes at you, biting his lip as he noticed you start to fidget yet again.

“I think i’d thrive, i can help with--..everything...you know...everything” you hinted, already regretting anything you decided to blurt out,

“Everything?...please, be clear what this everything is, miss y/n.” he laughed, crossing his hands in his lap, enjoying his effect he has on you. Making sure you’re always on the edge of your seat.

“I mean with--procreation? babies? what ever it is i guess...” you really didn’t mean to say that, at all. You just named yourself baby maker number 1, like thats all you had to offer. No. This really isn’t how you wanted this to go.

“Oh?... and, what makes you think i need you, specifically for this?”-- before you could speak, he holds his hand up for you to stop, shaking his head at you,

“And don’t get me wrong. You’re gorgeous. I’d love for you to ...make babies--” he joked, getting up from his seat, you froze in place watching him take just a few steps to you before he pushed over your book and sat beside you,

“But don’t you think you’re much more than that?...and, pardon my bluntness, i’ve heard the nightly crying. You think you could deal with a full term pregnancy on top of the apocalypse?” you were completely stunned, moving further away from him at the sudden realization of what he’s said.

“oh my--god” you felt yourself slip into panic, this has gone far from what you’d thought, only thing pulling you out of it was his hand grabbing yours, pulling you closer to him abruptly, placing his hand on your chest, the warmth of his putting a chill down your spine.

“You’re always so nervous.” he moved his hand from your chest to around your neck, holding your face in his hands as he moved in closer to you, lips just inches from yours, “It’s..refreshing.” and his lips met yours, sometime in the fight of both of your mouths, he pulled you atop him, one leg on either side of his, feeling your dress rise and fall to let you bottom sit directly on him.

You both finally detached, his lips red and swollen along with yours, you noticed his eyes slightly darker than before, his hair slightly frizzed out from the commotion,

“Am I helping your nerves, miss y/n?” not giving you time to answer, he reached up to meet your lips again, feeling his hands roam behind you, lifting your dress from behind, bringing it around your waist and then above your head, ridding you of it faster than you could take in what he was doing.

“Langdon!” you screamed, covering your bare chest as you were just in your underwear, watching him smile at your yelp of his name,

“mm, do that again” he closed his eyes, rolling his head back on the couched and grabbing your hips to sway them on his bulge,

“No, what if someone walks in?” you nervous stated, right before he grabbed your hands from your chest to remove them so he could see all of you, humming in satisfaction as he did,

“Let them.”

His head still resting atop the couch, manually moving your own hips, feeling your cunt rub against his cock trapped in his trousers. Watching the powerful Langdon be reduced to a moaning mess under you, taking pleasure in you just dry humping him. Confidence suddenly burst inside of you, bending slightly back and holding his shoulders as you pushed your hips down as hard as you could, moving them in circular motion, hearing a small groan escape from his lips,

“Fuck, i’m going to tear that cunt apart for that.” he made his promise in stone, pushing you off of him, towering over you as he got up from the couch, leaving you on your back with your legs bent towards your chest,

“Take these off, now” he pulled at the top of your panties, snapping them against you skin harshly. You obeyed quickly, while watching him release himself, a long thick cock hanging out of his pants, warranting a gasp from you, feeling your own juices flow from you, staining the leather beneath you,

Your reaction seemed to satisfy langdon, who was watching you as if you were prey,

“I want you. I want you right now.” his voice deep, dripping with lust as he walked to you, grabbing your leg and dragging you to the edge of the couch, hearing you squeak as he did so, he flipped you over to your hips were digging into the arm of the couch and your ass was up in the air, your entrance glistening for him,

“Not so nervous after all, hmm?” he mocked you, rubbing anything that leaked from you back on your clit, you moaned lowly, soon turning it into a loud moan as you felt the thick head of his cock rub against you, teasing your entrance, dipping the tip in, causing you to grip the couch, moving up with each tease.

“Don’t move, i don’t wanna have to hold you down now.” you turned to look at him, his blonde locks falling beside his face, framing his chiseled jawline, his eyes caught yours, winking as he pushed inside of you, stretching you far enough to feel as if your insides were burning. “Fuck.” he was enjoying the way your cunt spazzed around him, feeling his cock enlarge even more at the way you pulsed for him,

“Y/n, fuck, you’re just a hidden gem aren’t you,” he began thrusting, pushing your body forward with every hard snap of his hips, causing you to cry out in pleasure, pain? Your body was on fire, feeling your heart sink as he bottomed out inside of you, with every thrust he tore into you further. Your body inviting him in more as you feel yourself drown him with your cum, his cock becoming adjusted to you, taking advantage of every shake and squeeze.

“M-michael, fuck, faster,--” you felt your feet levitate off he ground, him holding your hold bottom half up as he obeyed your request, laughing at your screams,

“So you know my name...” you heard between the loud clapping of your skin against his, ignoring him as you felt your release coming closer as he reached around you to rub your clit, moaning with you as you began letting go for him, feeling something inside of you begin to snap, you tried grabbing behind you, but he pulled your hand against your back, pushing your body further into the cushion as your pussy convulsed, and you came on him, shaking as he walked you through you orgasm,

“Shhhh, shhh, come on, it feels good right? i’ve got you, y/n. let it all go” his low voice barely noticed as your ears rang from how hard you he had made you cum, following after shortly, pulling out of your limp body and coating your back, screaming your name as he produced enough cum to cover your cunt and your back entirely.

Both of you breathing heavy, but only one of you completely covered in cum, he put himself back inside of his pants. Watching you closely as you stayed in one place, afraid to move and make the whole room messy.

“I made quite the mess here, haven’t I?” a rhetorical question from him, and almost instantly you felt him clean you up, you were so stunned by everything that just happened, you could pass out on the couch right here, feeling your heart beat in your pelvis, feeling him handle you way gentler than he ever did before, is this the Langdon you were afraid of?

You were in your room, days later from the incident and still couldn’t help but think back on it, your body still only half recovered, he fucked you with everything he had in him it seemed, walking you to your room that night as well. You hadn’t seen him since, and you weren’t sure the protocol for this, would it be appropriate to see him again? You didn’t want to play the same game as you did, you wanted to see him, and you wanted to see him now. He grounded you so well, helping your nerves, what did you do when he wasn’t around?

That’s when you made your decision to visit him, before you could even rethink your decision you appeared in front of his room, opening the doors to his room and interrupting him alone, in bed shirtless with his laptop on his chest, in sweatpants and yet again his long locks curled against his face.

“Michael.”

He looked up from his laptop, smiling at you, “Come in, y/n.” and you did that. Walking up to the side of his bed, in only a satin black cover, staring at him until one of you broke the silence,

“You’re nervous again?” he guessed it.

“Yes. I just, didn’t know where to go. I hope this is okay.” your voice shook, but without him even answering, he pulled you onto the bed, setting his laptop aside to make room for you next to him.

“I’m just doing some work, you can stay.” he moved you to be next to him, your head resting on his chest as you watched him in his emails, typing up things you could barely understand, but just having his warmth beside you, putting a leg up over his own, and closing your eyes to rest. That’s when you realized Langdon was dangerous. He was what grounded you. Your rock, someone who put all your anxiety to rest, the same person who made everyone else's anxiety sky rocket, this was the man you trusted. The antichrist.

This went on for the next month, until one night when he had snuck into your room, laying next to you, in just his boxers, kissing against your neck, biting and sucking your skin,

“We’ll have to talk soon,--” he continued, kissing against your collar bones, his hand on your thigh, moving closer and closer to your core, moaning into your neck as he nipped at the skin some more,

“W--what? why?” your heart started beating, something Michael was now keen on noticing, making sure to try and bring that heartbeat back down, he humming against your ear, climbing on top of you, suckling your earlobe as he decided he’d entertain the conversation now--

“It’s about my selections. To the sanctuary,-”

His lips trailing against your chest, his hands bringing your night gown up, bundling it up on your waist, revealing your core, uncovered just for him, and he couldn’t help but lick up, causing you to shake in his hands,

“What about them? why are you telling me?” you asked, but your eyes rolled back as you felt his tongue delve inside of you, his hands holding both of your thighs against either side of his face, making sure you couldn’t move,

“I think, it’s best”-- “fuck” you interrupted him, feeling his fingers soon replace his tongue, reaching for your g-spot, rubbing you until he basically forced an orgasm from you, in less than 5 minutes, your body rewarding him for his talented fingers, shaking from ecstasy you were feeling,--

“I think it’s best i don’t bring you with me to the sanctuary.” your eyes forced their way open, moans turning into silence as your cum dripped out of you, pushing Michael away from your cunt, crawling up the bed away from him,

“WHAT?” you screamed, covering yourself back up with your nightgown, watching him roll his eyes at you reaction. He couldn’t bring you. You made him feel things, and he couldn’t have you distracting him from his plan. He spoke to his father countless times about you, and you weren’t apart of his future, and he had to cut you off, and this was the way.

“You’re not coming with me, y/n.” your eyes watered at his words, “no, no? what?...no you can’t leave me, what am i gonna do? i have no one, there’d be nothing left for me,--” you began to panic, seeing spots in your vision, you breathing getting rapid, Michael meeting you at the base of the bed, grabbing your shoulders to turn you to him, face to face with the man who’d decided your fate.

“Calm down. It’s going to be okay. I have something for you.” he got up from the bed, you watched with tears falling down your face, he pulled out a vile of white pills, and your memory thought back to his first appearance, what he explained,

“NO!!!” you screamed, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” your were in full blown attack, this man had manipulated you into giving him what he wanted, just to leave you high and dry. What were you kidding, he probably did this many times before. How many other girls has he killed after making them cum 20+ times?

He ran to you, climbing back on the bed, holding you as you thrashed in his arms, screaming at the top of your lunges in anguish, sobbing into his chest, finally calming down as he cradled you, shushing you, even the man responsible for your future death, you’re still depending on. How stupid could you be? to continue the manipulation, continue entertaining him, for you to even stay in the same room as him after he dropped the news.

“You’re a monster, Michael.”

And yet, he still let you cry into his chest, and you still let him console you. Rubbing along your back as you did so, kissing your forehead lightly.

“Let me calm you down.”

You let him. Your shock setting in, letting him move between your legs, everything becoming a blur until you felt him inside of you, your heart beat coming down again, your crying turning into morbid moaning, your body now focused on this moment, and not the future. Your mind doing a good job at protecting you,

“Y/n, i’m going to miss this”

Your mouth agape at his words, silently crying, wondering if this would be the last moment you’d ever be able to be calm.

“I love you, i love you, michael.” you admitted, your body couldn’t make up it’s mind. You were still in this game you thought you let go the first real encounter you had with him. Is he a monster? he’s the monster you love. That’s you’ll always love,

“I love you, y/n.”

His body going limp atop you as he released, coating your walls with his cum for the first time, he couldn’t help but feel you through his orgasm. He needed to feel as close to you as possible. This would be the last time he could.

This would be the last time he could see you. He could take you in. And that means he could never know what the results of this day would be. He could never see you take the consequences of his actions. He’d leave behind more than you. He’d leave behind his future heir. The only person who made him feel human, for the words of his father. Manipulation would come in all forms, could Michael live with himself if he knew that’s what his father was doing to him as he left you behind. He’d find out soon, when you’d be pregnant, and he’d feel the slight pang of his child’s heartbeat.

#michael langdon #Cody Fern #american horror story #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #ahs smut #ahs apocalypse #smut

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