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woeisme-iamwoe · 4 years ago

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an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 1

I went through my entire ao3 history because I’m insane, AND here’s my favorites. (There’s not a lot of aus because I’m not a huge fan of them, and there’s no sad endings. I’m a hopeless romantic leave me alone. There is angst though! Lots)

Beginning with SakuAtsu (I’m a hoe for Atsumu):

Hide and seek, by badreputation (10k. E. canonverse)

It sure is a good thing Atsumu doesn't have a latex allergy

It’s just a fleeting infatuation. As long as he pushes through it he’ll manage. So what if nowadays there isn’t a night where he doesn’t dream of Sakusa pinning him down on his own bed, in the shower or make Atsumu go down on his knees in the hallway? Those are just pesky details.

Some Memories, We May Keep, by mika60 (31k. T. canonverse)

This is canon, fight me on it.

The missing panels, the missing games, the missing moments.

The them we never saw.

*Now complete! :)*

every action has an equal and opposite reaction, by akanemnida (10k. T. canonverse)

Miya Atsumu gets a modeling contract with Calvin Klein, which sets Kiyoomi's heart in motion.

(Or: Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that the rules governing the universe are absolute rubbish at explaining matters of the heart.)

Ass-fingering as a prelude to relations of the emotional kind: a case study, by neverwere (2k. E. canonverse)

Fucking hilarious, the imagery is absolutely hilarious.

"Marry me, he thinks, as he comes around Sakusa's fingers and all over himself.

This. This is exactly why you don't let strangers or very attractive teammates finger you out of the blue.

Everyone knows that the ass is the shortest way to the heart."

When it comes to sex, Atsumu has rules. Guidelines! SOPs! He swears they work, they've always worked.

Until they don't.

parallax error: angle of inclination, by min_mintobe (10k. T. canonverse)

But now there's the one person Atsumu'd promised himself never to touch. His eyes leave Atsumu breathless with guilt at seventeen, and he spends the next six years safe in the satisfaction of making things right.

Feelings, of the physical kind, and one kiss.

ft. competitive spirit, childishness, and late night conversations.

Atsumu POV.

autumn ends, but we remain, by wolfsbvne (5k. T. canonverse)

Author says in their ending notes that they're not an ‘author’, but methinks they should write more and pursue that career path because this was wonderful.

atsumu stares at his ceiling at 2am. he stares until he can make out designs in his popcorn ceiling. a cat there, an onigiri here, and then something that suspiciously looks like a mop of hair, triangle eyebrows, and oh those two bumps are moles right above what atsumu just mapped out as an eye.

(or, atsumu is in kind of in love. sakusa is maybe in like.)

I left a taste in your mouth, by emso (26k. E. bodyguard au)

Because obviously

Sakusa fixes him with a vague expression of something like distaste. There's a scathing edge to his tone when he speaks. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, not everyone who meets you is instantly dying to get into your pants, Miya."

"Lucky I don't really care right now what 'everyone' wants to do, then." Atsumu swivels his mug around on the tabletop a few times, and then brings it to his mouth to drain the last few dregs of his latte. Over the rim of his mug, he adds casually, "Just you."

Whoa hey Bodyguard Omi, I think Spoiled Rich Kid Tsumu might possibly have a teensy crush on you.

How do you know you're in love?, by spiritscript (12k. T. canonverse)

Pure art

“So, how did you know you were in love? How did it feel?” Atsumu felt nervous asking this, a slight wiggling in the pit of his stomach, unable to look at the man beside him who rolled his shoulders in an attempt to reset his posture. “I mean, you didn’t resonate with what I said, so, what is love to you Omi-kun?”

Atsumu thinks he must be in love with Hinata Shouyou and so asks the best person he knows to help him understand his feelings

san'yo expressway, 6:17 pm, by yamabota (13k. T. canonverse)

Of violent forethoughts, and handheld car vacuums.

Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe.

Kiss him again, maybe.

They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out.

Different Kinds of Dysfunctional, by DeathBelle (Series, 5 works. T-E. Canonverse)

Honestly, I think this one is kind of famous amongst Sakuatsu readers but I can’t not include it. If I recall correctly, this is the fic that got me into Sakuastu, so thanks, DeathBelle. The characters are portrayed really well (i.e. Sakusa is disgusted and confused, and Atsumu is a little shit). You’ve got a good balance between conversations and descriptive thoughts and all-in-all it’s just a really good read.

Atsumu said into the heavy silence, “You can’t say you’ve never thought about it.”

"Thought about what?" said Sakusa.

Atsumu smiled to himself, smug. "You know."

"No, I don't."

"You know. Of course you’ve thought about it. There’s no reason to be ashamed, Omi-kun. I’m a real catch.”

Sakusa was appalled. "You're disgusting."

"You flatter me. I'm not judging you. I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it, too."

Sakusa shifted, slowly, to peer over his shoulder. He wasn’t scowling, but his expression was unreadable. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Atsumu wasn't joking, and he was about to get more than he bargained for.

i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands), by liliapocalypse (7k words. T. canonverse):

Oh, god. This one was so cute. Super fluffy. Loved the metaphors and symbolism. Sometimes you just can’t say things out loud.

When a bad injury shocks the whole V. League, Sakusa finds himself paired with Atsumu for more rigorous assisted stretches before every training. Atsumu then finds himself writing random letters on Sakusa’s skin to soothe the spiker, forcing Sakusa to reevaluate how his touch aversion became an irresistible yearning for more, and how the boy with the annoying hair somehow brought that hunger to life.

Or, the fic where Atsumu mindlessly writes a confession on Sakusa’s back when he thought Sakusa wasn't paying attention. Sakusa always did.

mortality is found is the flesh of your sins, by novrik (10k. M. canonverse)

This is literally my favorite fic of all time. Not just of Sakuatsu, not even of the Haikyuu fandom. Ever. Favorite fic ever. Listen, I’m an atheist, but this fic took me on a religious experience that I haven't come down from yet. The symbolism had me actually shivering, and I had to put my phone down quite a few times. Just, oh wow, just read it. I’d like to share my favorite line; ‘And if Sakusa is Eve, if he takes a bite, what then? Perhaps, he is a little afraid of the knowledge he will gain’. My god, author, if you ever see this, this is not only a plea for you to continue writing, but also an offer of marriage. Your hand, author?

dickhead one, sakusa kiyoomi. dickhead two, miya atsumu. neither understand how to communicate.

Pray tell, why are you drawn to him?

Are you drawn to him in the way he looks beautiful even when crying?

When his eyes are red, shiny tears streaking down, lips quivering, is he beautiful?

sakuatsu domesticity simulator, by pseudoanalytics (75 words. T. canonverse)

75 words because it's actually a digital art simulator. An interactive fic! How frickin’ cool is that? The art is so beautiful and I love the plotline and ugh, just everything. Please read, or watch, or click around, yes. Good.

Update: artist created another interactive fic and of course it is wonderful. SunaOsa this time! https://newttxt.itch.io/cheesecake honestly just check out @newttxt their work is amazing and I love everything they do.

a vaguely interactive mixture of fic, art, and html, where you too can experience the inherent romance of a big fat jerk and a too-blunt jerk attempting intimacy

***

(this is the result of letting the sakuatsu brainworms really get to you...)

Pas De Deux, by hatsuna (19k words. T. Ballet/college au)

There's just something about prim, proper ballet Sakusa and human-benign-tumor Atsumu that makes my heart burst. Seriously gorgeous writing style, loved every second. By the same author who wrote ‘liminal spaces’ (which is also just perfect) so that should give you a good idea of the style.

The mystery athlete gives Kiyoomi a once over in the mirror. “Yer pretty tall,” he observes. The twang of an accent rasps low in his throat. His brazen eyes drift to Kiyoomi’s legs, and something like exhilaration glints gold in his gaze. “Good quads, too. Ya ever played volleyball?”

Ah. So it’s volleyball.

“I’m a dancer. Ballet and contemporary, mostly.”

the affective presence of our black and white reruns, by kozumess (19k. E. canonverse)

Beautiful, classic misunderstandings, my heart actually physically ached at that one scene (you’ll know the scene when you come to it). Kiyoomi is so refreshingly relaxed(? Is that the right word to use? We all know Omi never truly relaxes).

but the want, it's always there, constant like the static playing on every television channel, present even when the station disconnects.

cut the conversation, just open your mouth, by meeksoo (E. 16k. canonverse)

Absolutely filthy...BUT WITH FEELINGS! Completely nails the Sakuatsu dynamic, and protective ‘Tsumu? Love it.

Sakusa opens the door. He always does.

They’re teammates first, barely even friends. But they hook up on the regular and it works. It’s simple, easy. But then a fan gets too close, Sakusa reacts, and Atsumu is swept up in how quickly things can get complicated.

As Atsumu palms himself over his briefs, still feeling off, he realizes it’s because he still wants it. Him. Sakusa. Even after already having him earlier.

He should probably feel self-conscious, mildly ashamed even, that he’s panting ‘Omi Omi’ into the dark beneath the steady thrum of the AC unit when Sakusa’s right down the hall, probably good for it if Atsumu ended up back at his door. Instead, he lays there, writhing and sweaty, alone in his hotel room bed thinking about Sakusa and touching himself.

Afterward, as cum begins to cool on his chest, Atsumu really can’t help but face the fact that things may be getting complicated.

the hands that beckon me to come, by Ellieb3an (4k. E. canonverse)

So hot, what the fuck!

The toss, the run, the spike-serve at the end of it all—Sakusa sees it happen in perfect clarity as if time has slowed and his vision narrows to the center where just Miya exists, all powerful muscle and extraordinary skill and that air of confidence.

Sakusa isn’t one of the best receivers in the league for no reason, so his body moves on muscle memory, forearms absorbing the sting of the hit. It’s not enough. But his eyes are still on Miya—on the way his shorts ride up his muscular thighs as he lands, on the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead, on the clench of his fist thrust into the air—when the ball ricochets out of bounds.

***

Atsumu stays late at practices to work on his new third serve, even when his frustration with it starts throwing off the rest of his game. Sakusa notices and starts hanging back to secretly watch him from the gym doors. He’s fascinated with Atsumu's determination... and more than a little turned on by it, too.

you're the flame i use (when it gets dark), by starkartifices (55k. M. canonverse. Ongoing)

Everything is the same except the Sakusas are super rich.

“Oh, if you want dear, you could bring a plus one. Though, I doubt you have a partner yet.”

“I do actually.”

“What was that, dear?”

"I do have a partner, I mean."

alt title: crazy rich sakusas

the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or; the fine art of emotional recognition), by pseudoanalytics (13k. E. canonverse)

Ah, yes. A Pavloved sex life. A Pavloved LOVE life??

It's stupid. Atsumu isn't a romantic, no matter how many times he's imagined laying Sakusa out and finally really touching him.

So there's no explanation for why Atsumu is constantly stuck thinking about brushing his fingertips against the meat of Sakusa's palms or the prominent tendons in his freaky wrists.

There's no explanation for why doing dishes sets off a warm burn in his ribcage, or why when he smells disinfectant he inhales like he's walking past a bakery.

Yer doin' this to me, he thinks furiously, as Sakusa derails his thoughts with kisses that come more and more frequently now. Yer conditionin' me, and I can't stop it.

flutterbird (a collection of sakuatsu oneshots), by wordstruck (5 works. T-E. canonverse)

Works 1-3, I think follow a linear story, whereas the last two don't.

All sakuatsu works are just the angstiest, most miscommunication filled pieces of absolute gold and this one is no exception. Wow. These men are assholes and they bring out the worst in each other, but I’ll be damned if they’re not soulmates.

Collection of SakuAtsu fics. Several fics are loosely set in the same storyverse. Not necessarily directly connected and can all be read as standalones.

#haikyuu!!#sakuatsu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic rec #sakusa kiyoomi #atsumu miya

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muse-oleum · 4 years ago

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The Flower Shop, part 3

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Fem!OC

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3;

Hey folks! Here’s the third installment of my series. I hope you enjoy it! We’re getting into it, finally. Also, I’ve just added another prompt list that you can find here, go give me some inspiration!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

The camelias shivered in the evening wind. By their place on the windowsill, they overlooked the entire room, with its large bed, desk and the man sitting there.

Harry’s books and notebooks had all been lost when his house was bombed to the ground, so he’d had to start again. Over the course of the past few weeks, he had purchased several anthologies and was still looking for new publications on the subject of entomology.

He missed his old notebooks, relying entirely on the scribbled pages of the battered pad he’d used during his time away.

Harry rarely referred to his time as an amnesiac entomologist as anything else except his “time away.” He was still grappling with the strange sensation of having recovered his life but he wasn’t so sure now, after so many months wishing for freedom to go find his butterflies, which life he wanted to lead.

Kingsman had been his home for decades, ever since he’d left the army to become a secret agent. But before that? He’d been so invested in becoming an entomologist that it almost surrounded him in a shroud of wing dust for the rest of his career. His home was full of them; his head was full of them; and his heart was full of them.

None of his friends had ever understood his passion for the small insects. To be honest, Harry himself did not understand it fully.

His father had been very fond of gardening, and his mother never allowed him to squash any insects he found in his room. Even if it was the biggest spider in the world - at least to the eyes of a little boy - she would just pick it up in a tissue and let it free outside. He had always supposed his interest came from them. But now, looking back on how he had cleaved to his ephemeral friends, he wondered if the root for his interest did not run deeper.

Perhaps he was fascinated by their transience? The manner in which their sense of purpose carried them to their death? He envied that. The whole of the animal kingdom, except humans, seemed to have a purpose. Harry had lost his and didn’t know how to regain it.

Sighing, he turned off the nightstand lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Before falling asleep, he remembered his promise to Rebecca to come fix her garden shed. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. At least, he had that to look forward to tomorrow.

Monday ----, 9 a.m

The chime of the doorbell accompanied Harry’s entrance into the flower shop. At the end of a cold February month, the sight of so many blooms was a welcome start to his day.

“You’re an early riser!”

Rebecca stood at her cluttered counter, snipping twigs off small branches. Harry watched, strangely fascinated, as she arranged them in an elegant bouquet. She seemed to know just where to place them.

“It’s for a wedding,” she said, matter of factly. “Apparently, the bride is fond of forest weddings and decided to go for a woodland theme.”

“A forest wedding in February? Good luck to them.”

Her singsong laugh echoed through the shop.

“Yes, the groom seemed rather resigned, poor chap. Let me just finish with this one and then we can go look at the shed.”

Harry followed, calling after her, “I didn’t bring any tools, I hope you’ve got something I can work with?”

Rebecca popped her head out of the shed. “Come and have a look for yourself. It’s in quite a state, but it still stands. My dad was strangely proud of that.”

Harry fit his broad-shouldered frame inside the small shed as best he could without towering above her. Rebecca caught his eye as he attempted to squeeze himself in, chuckling slightly.

The shed was small, built out of wood that had begun rotting many years ago. Daylight filtered through cracks along the walls and dust shimmered in the air. In the corner, a box of tools, its bright red colour contrasting strangely with its surroundings, was waiting patiently for its next use. Rebecca had arranged a large pile of fresh wood and wooden panels next to it, probably to restore the cracked walls.

“It’s dismal, I know, but the roof is still in a really good state so i’d hate it to collapse entirely.”

Harry gently pushed against the walls. The wood cracked and moaned but it held. The problem was the rot, which had weakened the overall structure.

“I’m afraid if you want it to stand for any number of years, we have to tear it down completely first. The wood is rotting. Best to rebuild entirely.”

Rebecca nodded, biting her lips nervously.

“I don’t want to ask you to do that, I thought it just needed a few repairs. But tearing it down and rebuilding it is a job for my brother; he loves to demolish things to rebuild them.”

A small part of Harry’s heart - which he refused to acknowledge - rebelled at the idea.

“Nonsense, I said I’d help and I will. We will just need a lot more wood than that.”

Wednesday, some weeks later ----, 6 pm

Dropping by Rebecca’s shop had become part of Harry’s routine. Nearly everyday after work, he’d go in, buy a few flowers and go. Every weekend, he’d drop by and work on the shed. He was grateful for the distraction it provided and, slowly, began to acknowledge that Rebecca had wormed her way into his heart.

Harry Hart had never dared to think too much about love. The Kingsman code was explicit: no attachments, no weaknesses. Eggsy and, on occasion, Merlin, had expressed how incredibly stupid and bigoted the Gentleman Guide was but the former Arthur had been uncompromising.

Kingsman was slowly adapting and changing, especially after Poppy’s missile catastrophe. A new Arthur had yet to be found but under the capable supervision of the older agents, amongst which Harry and Merlin, the newer recruits were coming into their own. Kingsman was still not operating at full capacity, what with the HQ and the London shop in ruins, but it was getting there.

Exhausted, Harry shook out his umbrella outside the shop before coming in, tucking it neatly in a corner. It had been a long day: recruits to assess, Merlin to check on (he was adjusting to his wheelchair but threw a few dignified Scottish tantrums along the way) and paperwork to work through.

The smell of freshly cut flowers greeted him and, immediately, he felt better. March had brought an early spring and the blooms were peeking shyly from under their green little sprouts.

Harry heard a commotion in the back room and, nerves on alert, made his way slowly towards the garden. Carefully popping his head in, he saw Rebecca, on the ground, looking under the sofa and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Eventually, a small kitten emerged, sniffing her fingers curiously. He meowed a few times, noticing Harry by the door, and meowed even louder, asking for food.

“I believe this little lad is hungry.”

Rebecca gasped, nearly bumping her head on the sofa.

“Harry! You scared the living daylights out of me!”

He held his hands up, taking one step in, chuckling slightly.

“My apologies. You looked terribly busy.”

The shabby little cat, meanwhile, completely disinterested in the antics of those two humans, had made his way towards the kitchen, no doubt drawn to the smell of soup hanging in the air. One or two loud meows later, a large bowl full of ham and leftover meat had been placed for him by the table and he happily forgot all about everything else.

“I found him in the street this afternoon. It was cold and he was shivering and crying, so I brought him in. He wasn’t a fan of being carried somewhere new and he hid under that couch for a solid hour before you came in.”

“Well, he’s one lucky cat.”

Rebecca laughed softly and shook her head, her long curls bouncing around her forehead. Harry resisted the urge to tuck one behind her ear. Tying an apron around her waist, she made her way towards the stove to check on the soup.

Harry observed her, sleeves rolled up to reveal creamy skin, feet tapping lightly to no rhythm in particular, curls pinned up by a clip, out of the way. He felt his heart give a little tug and, unable to stop himself, took a few steps towards her.

She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in diagnosing what exactly was missing from the soup. The warm smell of tomatoes made Harry’s mouth water. He could tell what was missing from that distance.

“Have you added basil?”

She looked up at him, noticing his closeness, and a pretty blush spread over her cheeks. She tasted one more spoonful before smiling broadly, dashing out of the door and back again. She came back with a shriek, shaking the droplets out of her hair. Harry couldn’t contain his smile.

Suddenly, as she was taking off her boots, a sparkling flash of blue caught Harry’s eye. Looking more closely, he froze. There were two blue butterflies, Adonis blues, flying around her head. One settled into the mass of pinned curls, the other kept looking for a perch.

Harry’s heart soared. how he had missed his butterflies! Their gentle movements mesmerized him and, unconsciously, he took a step forward. He didn’t notice the curious look Rebecca shot him when he reached up to touch one of the butterflies. She didn’t stop him, didn’t move, as if she knew something was happening that she couldn’t see.

Harry felt the flutter of the butterfly’s wings on his fingers and smiled. Rebecca had never seen him smile like that before. He had never smiled happily, always offered small, sad, smiles. She wondered what it was that made him so happy tonight.

The moment ended when their eyes met, Harry blushing furiously and taking a step back; Rebecca reaching up to touch her hair, her blush deeper than before.

“I’m sorry, I-”

��I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

Her tone was curious, not displeased. Harry couldn’t help but answer honestly:

“There were butterflies around your head. Blue ones. I’ve always loved blue butterflies.”

Rebecca frowned slightly. Butterflies? In this season? Surely that was impossible, and she would have seen them. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground, realizing how utterly mad that must have sounded. He was ready to take his leave when she said:

“I love blue butterflies too.”

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt; @flybi91

Comment below if you want to be added to my HH taglist!

#harry hart #kingsman #harry hart x oc #harry hart x reader #harry hart x fem!oc #the flower shop #part 3 #original work #kingsman: the secret service #Kingsman: the golden circle #fanfiction #kingsman fanfiction #original character #original female character

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spnirwin · 5 years ago

Note

Could you do an angsty Eddie x reader story? Maybe she gets in a car accident and Bobby has to keep him back while Buck, Chim, and Hen help her. And maybe a little fluff sprinkled in the end...

Love You Forever

A/N: This turned out way longer than I expected, but I had so much fun with it! I also couldn’t resist the best friend Buck angle, I hope you don’t mind. I’m posting this on mobile so I apologize if the formatting is wonky. Thanks for the request!

Word Count: 1430

—

Eddie smiled down at his phone as your text came through.

Y/n (6:03 pm): I’m heading out now. I’ll call you when I get home from dinner. Love you!

He sent back a quick “love you too” before pocketing his phone and refocusing his attention on his own dinner and the crew sitting around him.

Eddie counted his blessings on a daily basis that he had landed in the 118. The bond that the team shared was unparalleled, and anyone that witnessed their interactions instantly understood that they were a family. And as grateful as Eddie was for all of them, he was the most grateful for Buck. The day he decided to introduce Eddie to his best friend was a day Eddie would never forget, because it was the day he met you.

The first time you met you learned about Eddie’s son and immediately offered to help out when he was on shift. He cautiously accepted, and hearing about you and your adventures through Christopher only helped Eddie fall for you even faster. Seven months later you had moved in and the three of you had begun forming your own version of a family together.

You had stepped into the role of a main caretaker for Christopher beautifully, almost as if you were always meant to be a part of their lives. You rarely took time for yourself, which is why Eddie was so happy that you had decided to take your friends up on their offer of dinner downtown. It had taken a push from him and Carla showing up at the front door, but you were finally out enjoying a much deserved night off.

Everyone at the table groaned as the bell went off in the station, signaling them to their posts.

“Just once can we have an uninterrupted meal?” Buck moaned as he shoved himself backwards away from the table.

“So sorry accidents don’t plan themselves around your mealtimes,” Eddie chucked, shaking his head as he put on his gear and climbed into the truck.

The two of them bickered and joked the entire high speed ride to the accident scene, Bobby shaking his head at them from the front seat. They pulled up and hopped out of the truck, looking to Bobby for further instruction.

“Okay, dispatch said this is a multiple vehicle incident, multiple injuries reported. One vehicle overturned, two others blocking the intersection,” Bobby informed the crew.

They stepped out from behind the truck to begin assessing the scene, and Eddie froze. The overturned car steaming in the middle of the intersection was one he recognized immediately. It was yours.

“Y/n,” he whispered, eyes locked on your car.

“What?” asked Buck, turning in confusion to follow his eyeline. He understood at once, and turned back to Eddie as he tried to make a break for you. “Whoa whoa,” he shouted, shoving Eddie backwards.

“Y/n!” Eddie screamed, fighting against Buck to try and get to you.

“Eddie, Eddie!” Bobby yelled as he continued to try and get past Buck. “You need to let them take care of her.”

“Cap, I need to go, I need to help her,” Eddie’s voice was strained, desperate. Tears started to slip down his cheeks as Bobby took over holding Eddie back.

“I’ve got her!” Buck shouted as he turned and started running towards your car, where Chimney and Hen were already crouched.

Eddie watched as Buck reached the car, wishing desperately that it was him.

—

“Bucky?” you whispered as Buck’s face appeared before you.

“Yeah it’s me, I’m here,” Buck replied, eyes scanning you for injuries. “Can you tell me what hurts?” Hen had made quick work of getting you in a C collar, and now it was time to figure out how to get you out of the car.

“Where’s Eddie?” you asked, frantically looking around you, unable to locate who you were searching for. “Evan, I can't feel my legs.” You were beginning to panic, unaware of the extent of your injuries and the jagged piece of metal jammed into your stomach.

“He’s over by the truck with Bobby,” Buck replied, beginning to pull on the car door. “Let’s get you out of here and then he’ll be with you.”

A few agonizing minutes later they were pulling you out of the car, placing you on the stretcher, and quickly wheeling you towards the ambulance. The last thing you saw before you passed out was Eddie’s face appearing over you, shouting something that looked vaguely like “please hold on for me.”

—

Eddie sat beside you as you laid in the hospital bed, head in his hands. You had come out of surgery an hour ago, and still hadn’t regained consciousness. The ambulance ride was the longest seven minutes of Eddie’s life. He had watched Hen fight you for control of your life, restarting your heart twice before reaching the front doors of the hospital.

He couldn’t help but blame himself for your accident. If he hadn’t pushed you to get out of the house, take a night off, you would never have been in that car. You wouldn’t have ended up in the path of a drunk driver, and you wouldn’t have ended up flipped over in the middle of the Sepulveda and Sherman intersection.

Tears were rapidly falling down his cheeks, hitting the sheets gently. If you didn’t recover, he would never forgive himself.

“Eddie Diaz, are you crying over me?” Your voice came out cracked and hoarse, your fingers twitching, trying to reach him.

Eddie’s head shot up, eyes searching your face frantically, double checking that you were really conscious and speaking to him.

“Come here,” you demanded softly. “Hold my hand, please.” He obliged your request and you let out a soft sigh at the feel of his skin against yours. You closed your eyes before you spoke again. “I think I almost died today.”

Eddie let out a strangled laugh. “You did die,” he said. “Twice, actually.”

“Does that mean I’m a superhero now?” you asked, eyes opening back up and locking on his.

“You’ve always been a superhero,” he replied, gently reaching up and brushing your hair from your forehead. “You’re Christopher’s superhero, and you're my superhero.”

“I love you,” you sighed, letting your eyes slip shut again. “And you can call the nurse now, I know you’ve been dying to since the second I woke up.”

Eddie smiled as he reached forward and pressed the call button on the wall. It beeped as he replied, “I love you too.”

—

It had been a week and a half since the accident, and Eddie was gently depositing you on the couch in your shared apartment.

“If you continue to treat me like an invalid, Diaz, we’re going to have a problem,” you grunted, glaring at him as he put his hands up in surrender.

“Until you can pee by yourself, you’re stuck with me,” he joked, sitting down next to you. “Seriously, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine Eddie, honestly. I’m recovering at an acceptable rate. You need to stop worrying so much.”

“You know me, I’m a worrier. Especially when it comes to you,” he replied, shrugging.

“You’re right, I do know you,” you said, quirking an eyebrow at him. “And I know that you blame yourself for all of this. You’re sitting there right now blaming yourself for the accident, despite the fact that it had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

He started at you slack-jawed, shocked at the fact that you had him pegged so well. “You need to stop,” you continued on, voice rising with conviction. “This was not your fault. This was the fault of that idiot kid that decided to get in a car drunk and plow through a red light. So stop sitting there and being angry at yourself for no reason.”

He huffed out a short laugh as he took in the stubborn look on your face. This was a battle he was not going to win, and you both knew it. Instead of speaking, he leaned over and gently pressed his lips to yours.

“You know, you aren’t going to break me,” you said, pulling him closer as the front door opened. You broke apart as the sound of Christopher and Buck’s voices echoed through the apartment.

“Love you forever,” Eddie whispered against your cheek before fully pulling away from you.

“I love you too,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully at him as Christopher entered the room with a shout of your name.

—

#eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz oneshot #eddie diaz drabble #9-1-1 #9-1-1 oneshot #9-1-1 drabble #shannon writes

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emy-loves-you · 4 years ago

Text

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 6

Who the F*ck’s Rebecca? OR How the 3 Gays got Together

Virgil learns about Roman’s childhood, specifically his sister and how he ended up dating Patton and Logan.

Warning: Misgendering of a character (but no one knows that the character is trans)

Yes, Roman and Remus are brothers. Explanations are listed at the bottom

Chapter 5 | Masterlist | Chapter 7

V- (2:07 PM) Let it Go was the best song in Frozen and you cannot convince me otherwise

R- (2:07 PM) I respect your opinion, but hear me out: Love is an Open Door

V- (2:08 PM) No

R- (2:08 PM) What about Fixer Upper?

V- (2:09 PM) Still no.

P- (2:09 PM) I really liked Olaf’s song about Summer!

L- (2:10 PM) I personally enjoyed the reprise of First Time in Forever.

R- (2:10 PM) You like almost any song with a reprise

L- (2:10 PM)I will not argue that, as successfully executed reprises are ��lit.”

R- (2:11 PM) Ah, and who among us could forget the absolute BOP that is… that weird ice-cutting song.

P- (2:11 PM) I don’t know, Roman. I think that song is, pretty COOL

R- (2:11 PM) Oh, lookout

V- (2:12 PM) What? He’s just saying it’s a CHILLED out groove.

R- (2:12 PM) Ugh

L- (2:12 PM) We might need you two to leave this chat if you don’t stop.

Virgil laughed, throwing his phone on the bed and stripping out of his clothes. He just finished jogging home from Janus’ (he didn’t own a car right now, preferring to walk or have Janus pick him up). It was a lazy afternoon in late September, and all Virgil wanted to do was get out of these sweaty clothes and maybe take a nap. He heard his phone go off multiple times as he got dressed, probably Patton and Logan arguing about the purpose of puns. He flopped down onto his bed and grabbed his phone, checking the new messages.

P- (2:14 PM) Lo, the Princes are calling.

L- (2:14 PM) Tell Roman not to answer, Patton. We’ve been over this.

P- (2:14 PM) They’re asking about us, Lo.

L- (2:14 PM) Tell Roman to hang up. They’re not worth it.

P- (2:15 PM) They’re yelling now, L. They brought up Rebecca. What do I do?

L- (2:15 PM) Just walk into another room, Patton. Ignore them. Do you want me to call you?

P- (2:15 PM) No, I’m good. Just keep texting me. I need a distraction.

Now, Virgil had no idea about what the fuck was going on. But he knew how to distract someone. He’d just have to trust them to tell him later.

V- (2:16 PM) Did you know that octopi have 3 hearts?

L- (2:16 PM) What

P- (2:16 PM) That just means they have more love to give!

V- (2:17 PM) The longest recorded flight of a chicken is 13 seconds

P- (2:17 PM) Such a good bird!

V- (2:17 PM) Babies do not regularly produce tears until they are 1-3 months old

L- (2:18 PM) Ah, I think I understand now

V- (2:18 PM) A ‘jiffy’ is an actual unit of time. It stands for 1/1000th of a second

L- (2:18 PM) Falsehood. A jiffy is 1/100th of a second

V- (2:19 PM) Sorry, my hand must’ve slipped.

L- (2:19 PM) You would be unable to walk on Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus or Neptune because they have no solid surface.

L- (2:20 PM) An asteroid about the size of a car enters Earth’s atmosphere roughly once a year. However, it burns up before it can reach us.

L- (2:20 PM) The highest mountain known to man is on an asteroid called Vesta. It is approximately three times the height of Mount Everest.

P- (2:21 PM) I think they hung up. Thanks for keeping me company, Kiddos!

L- (2:21 PM) It was not an issue, Patton.

V- (2:21 PM) Yeah, no problem Pat. Now can someone explain what just happened?

L- (2:23 PM) As you can probably tell, I am not home at the moment. Apparently, Roman’s parents decided to call him and an argument broke out. The rest is not my place to say.

Virgil bit his lip, refusing to look at his phone screen. Did Virgil have the right to ask about that. It was obviously a very sensitive topic, and Virgil had only known Roman for about 3 months now. Virgil felt like he knew a lot about his 3 crushes (their quirks, their favorite sweets, their goals in life), but he knew very little about their lives before Virgil had met them. Which was fine; they knew very little about Virgil’s life, too. But he desperately wanted to help Roman; to make him feel happy and safe and loved. Virgil sighed, setting his phone on his nightstand. If Princey wants to tell me what’s going on, I’ll listen. If not, I’ll just have to deal with it.

Virgil woke up from his nap to the sound of his phone going off. He blindly felt around for it, his face still firmly planted in his pillow. He finally found it, turning it on before he lifted his head to read the text. It was a private message from Princey.

R- (3:02 PM) You’re probably wondering what happened today.

V- (3:02 PM) I am, but you don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable. I’ll respect your privacy.

R- (3:02 PM) As much as I appreciate that, you still deserve to know.

R- (3:03 PM) Do you mind if I call you? This doesn’t feel like a conversation to have over text.

Virgil thought about it for a moment. He originally never wanted to call Roman, simply because he might recognize Virgil’s voice as Anxiety’s. However, not only was Virgil 99% confident that Roman had never even heard of The Dark Sides, Virgil’s head was still foggy after his nap. Before he knew it, he was already calling Princey’s phone.

“Virgil?” Roman didn’t sound as… grand as Virgil expected. His voice was subdued and slightly hoarse, probably from the screaming match with his parents.

“Heya, Princey.” Virgil cringed at how gravelly his voice sounded. He’ll need to get some water after this conversation is over.

“You sound so tired. Oh my stars, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get back to sleep-”

“Princey, it’s okay. Just finished my nap. Might not talk much, but ‘m all ears.”

“Alright. Where do I even begin?”

“Take your time. ‘m not pressurin’ you or anythin’.”

“(sigh) You’re right. I guess I should start at the beginning. I grew up in a very... conservative household. My parents expected me and my sister, Rebecca, to be perfect. ReeRee was my partner in crime. We did everything together up until highschool. My parents expected me to get a football scholarship and date the hottest girl in school. I did those things, not because I wanted to, but because they wanted me to. ReeRee was a different story. When my parents signed her up for cheerleading, she tried to join the football team instead. When they told her she should wear her hair in a ponytail, she cut it off to match mine. I didn’t understand, and it made me angry. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror; she was starting to look more and more like me, and yet each change made my parents angrier. Why was looking and acting like me a problem? I thought they liked this version of me! One night in the summer before junior year I was really frustrated and I took it out on her. I told her to stop acting like me. I knew she didn’t deserve my anger, so I went to Patton’s place to cool down. By the time I came home, my parents refused to acknowledge that I even had a sister. I pushed her away, and now I’ll never get her back.

After that, things changed. I was so angry, and everything I saw reminded me of her. I quit the football team, because every time I went down to the field I expected to see her. I dyed my hair, because every time I looked in the mirror I saw her staring back. I stopped caring about what my parents thought, ‘cause it was their opinions that dragged me into this mess!

I had already been friends with Patton since Freshman year, but me and Logan had been at each other’s throats . We were always bickering about something, and sometimes I used our arguments to vent out my anger at whatever was wrong at the time. I didn’t even realize how much I had cared about Patton and Logan until I learned about the LGBTQ+ community. My parents were super strict, and Patton and Logan didn’t exactly flaunt their relationship. I had no idea that liking guys was even an option . Once I learned about it, my parents quickly tried to shut it down. Everyday, they’d start their day telling me that ‘homosexuality is a sin’ and ‘God made you to be the gender you were born with!’ If they had told me that before ReeRee left, I might’ve believed them. But by this point, I didn’t care about a single thing they told me.

So one day, I’m arguing with Logan about who knows what, and suddenly we’re inches apart, and I remember pa saying ‘ a boy should never kiss another boy.’ And just think, ‘Fuck it.’ And now me and Pocket Protector are suddenly making out behind the school building. Microsoft Nerd asks why the hell I decided to make out with him of all people, and I break down right there. He agreed to keep it a secret, but he refused to do anything more than a simple make-out session until he had Padre’s consent to do so. Which I understood, consent is important, cheating is bad.

Now we’re having these ‘sessions’ at least once a week for almost 4 months. Patton eventually walked in on us and he was understandably upset. I explained what had happened and that I’ve had a crush on both of them for a while. And they’re like ‘cool, we’re polyam.’ And now I’m starting senior year dating two men, which mom and pa were not okay with. I told ‘em to fuck off and we moved away as soon as we graduated. They still call occasionally, asking when I’m gonna get my life together and get over losing ReeRee. I haven’t blocked ‘em yet in case they find her or change their minds.”

Roman finally took a deep breath. “Sorry about the rant. Didn’t realise how badly I needed to get that off my chest.”

Virgil snorted. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Told ya I’d be a good ear. And Princey?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t gotta do anything to impress someone else. You bein’ you is good enough. And if Rebecca could see you, I’m sure she’d be proud as hell. And don’t be ‘fraid to hit me up if you need someone other than your SOs to rant to; I’ll always be here for ya, Princey.”

“... Thank you, Virgil. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that until you said it.” He sighed, and Virgil could hear the sound of running water. “I’m gonna go drink some water. My throat burns like a bitch right now.”

“Same. Catch you later?”

He could hear Roman chuckle to himself. “I guess you shall. Farewell, Storm Cloud. And pleasant dreams!”

Virgil blushed. The way Roman said his nickname… it made Virgil’s gay heart nearly explode. He quickly hung up and buried his face back into his pillow. I’ll get water later. AFTER my heart stops racing.

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

Now, for those of you wondering about why Virgil doesn't realize that Roman and Remus are brothers, I'm gonna put a quick explanation here, 'cause I don't know how to casually fit this into the story. 1.) Remus has never told Virgil his deadname or his last name. He's probably told Janus (since their pretty close) but Virgil doesn't know. 2.) Remus has never told Virgil that his brother's name is Roman. Additionally, when Virgil is talking about the 3 gays, he only calls them "Pat, Lo and Princey." 3.) Roman's parents didn't tell him that Remus transitioned, so he doesn't know that Rebecca now goes by Remus. Also, none of the characters have actually sent pictures of their faces, so none of them have any idea what the other looks like. 4.) It is a total coincidence that both twins moved to the same town. Remus believes that Roman still lives in their hometown, and Remus could be dead for all that Roman knows. There is no logical reason for them to think "maybe Virgil's friends with my long-lost sibling" 5.) Virgil would NEVER out his friends like that. He tells Janus and Remus everything, but he would NEVER betray Roman's trust like that. Same thing for telling Roman about Remus. Roman might know that Remus is trans, but he doesn't know about Remus' background. ONE LAST THING: Roman and Virgil will eventually see each other face-to-face but WON'T recognize each other's voices. This is because during the phone call Virgil is still groggy from waking up and Roman is still hoarse from screaming.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

#useless gays #sanders sides fic #LAMP fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders

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mammonspeanut · 5 years ago

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Unexpected (Belphie x gn Reader)

Angst because I am an asshole, NSFW 18+

It should be gender neutral if I accidentally put a gender somewhere feel free to inbox me. Bless if you find grammar and other mistakes I can’t think anymore.

Though your past had been troublesome you and Belphegor had become rather close over the course of a few months. Even though he hadn’t confessed to you it was quite clear that Belphegor had feelings for you by the time his heart fluttered a bit when he saw your name flash up on his buzzing D.D.D even he became aware. At times you would randomly crawl into his bed if you couldn’t sleep, which he always welcomed since he loved the scent you left in his bed.

The night before was once again one of those nights. Upon slowly pushing the creaking door open, Belphegor could hear your soft steps slowly approaching his bed. He felt the bed dip as you crawled into his bed to lay next to him. As you tried to make yourself comfortable Belphegor let out a low grumble.

“Sorry for waking you,” you whispered as he turned around, gently laying his head onto your chest.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t wake me at all.” Belphegor mumbled, nuzzling into your t-shirt, inhaling your sweet scent. Lips curling into a smile as he felt your fingers dive into his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp as you played with his hair. He reached over you, his heart thumping heavily as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. Your bodily warmth cradling him in emotions he never thought he could feel for anyone. You inhale deeply before planting a small kiss onto his head.

“Could you hum that melody?” he asked, feeling you chuckle underneath him.

“Sure,” you answered before humming the first notes as he drifted into a deep slumber, enveloped by your scent and the loving sound of your voice.

“Solomon is coming over later,” you had replied as Mammon asked you what you had planned for the day during breakfast.

“I don’t like him, he is almost as scummy as Mammon,” Satan stated as he pointed his fork with a berry at the end at you.

“Oi!” Mammon exclaimed, flipping Satan off.

“Aww I wish I could spend some time with you two, you look so cute together,” Asmodeus swooned.

Belphegor watched as you smiled at that statement a pang of jealousy shot through him forcing him to scoff “Definitely not.”

“Are you jealous?”, Asmodeus teased, nudging Belphegor.

A slight blush arose as he hid his face behind his hair “As if.”

“We are just friends,” you laughed smiling at Belphegor forcing his heart to clench so hard he felt it skip a beat. A smile so gorgeous he himself sometimes questioned if you could be an angel.

“What are you up to later, Belphie?” you asked before taking a sip from your coffee.

“Well, Asmodeus is going to help me out with something later,” Belphegor replied.

He had had this day planned for quite a while and although he felt like dying right, then and there, he swore himself that today was the day. Today he would confess his love for you and ask you to date him. Yet, first he would need a gift and Asmodeus was going to help him chose one.

Trying to ignore Asmodeus winking at him, Belphegor decided to look down at his D.D.D to check the time.

“Guess we got to get going if we don’t want to get caught up in traffic.” Belphegor sighed as he stood up with his plate.

---

Hours had passed, and it had become evening. You and Solomon were in your room fooling around, showing each other memes and laughing over old vines you recreated as you told each other about cringe moments of your life.

“Do the brothers know that we are dating?” Solomon asked as he threw a gummy worm at your head, hitting you in the middle of your forehead, prompting both of you to burst out in laughter.

“Sure they agreed to show up at 6 pm to beat you up,” you laughed as you threw him popcorn which he caught it with his mouth.

Chewing he mumbled, “At some point, you will have to tell them you know that right?”

“I know but I don’t know how to tell them without them beating you up or worse, you know?”, you sighed as you leaned back.

It was unspoken that the brothers weren't fond of Solomon and there was no saying in how they would react when you revealed that you were more than just friends.

Solomon got up from his seat and began to crawl between your legs pinching you into your ribs making you giggle.

“Do I at least get one last kiss before I die?” Solomon teased as he hovered above your lips tickling you.

“Yes,” you giggled before cupping his face and gently kissing him.

A gentle moan escaped your lips as you felt him grind against your sex as his fingers gently made their way under your shirt, each touch like an electric shock.

“Solomon..” you sighed as one of his hands slipped between your legs.

“Should I stop?”, he whispered into your ear. You felt your body aching for more of his touch as you felt his heavy breath on your neck.

“N-No”, you moaned into his ear as you pressed yourself against him, grinding against his hand.

---

“Next time I am definitely not going shopping with you again Asmo,” Belphegor murmured as he entered the house

“I thought it was fun,” Asmo chirped as he put down a vast amount of bags

“7 hours of shopping? You don’t even need all that stuff!” Belphegor exclaimed, pointing at the bags.

Shocked by the statement, Asmodeus inhaled sharply as he clutched his non-existent pearls.

“At least I got what I wanted,” Belphegor sighed “Well I guess I will go and confess now.”

Clutching the tiny box between his hands, he stood frozen in front of Asmodeus. “Everything will be okay, just be honest.” Asmodeus comforted Belphegor as he ruffled his hair. Belphegor nodded before turning and walking towards your room.

As Belphegor was only a few steps away from your room, he could hear sounds coming from it.

“Solomon....” he heard you say.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance about the fact that Solomon was still in your room, he stepped closer.

The at first unfamiliar sounds that came out of your room became clearer as Belphegor stood in front of your slightly ajar door.

“P-Please Solomon,” you moaned.

“You are mine,” Solomon grunted.

This couldn’t be true, he thought to himself before pushing the slightly ajar door to your room open.

Your body was writhing under Solomons thrusts as he firmly gripped onto your body, his hands touching you everywhere Belphegor had dreamt of touching you. The wet slaps of your bodies colliding with each other resonating through the room as you begged him for release. Your lewd sounds accompanied by Solomon’s grunts as your bodies seemed entangled in each other while you both moved in unison. Belphegor watched as Solomon’s stern look slowly moved from you to the door only to see him standing there. Belphegor was sure Solomon was going to stop, but against all odds Solomon was prepared to show him who you belonged to and that he was the only one to beckon these sounds out of you.

“You feel so good baby,” Solomon moaned as he began to thrust harder into you, filling each inch of you with himself.

Numbed by the sounds you made, Belphegor found himself unable to move. A wicked grin spread across Solomon's face before he asked you “Do you want me to cum inside of you?”

“Y-Yes, please,” you whimpered under him.

Belphegor felt a stab in his heart as he heard you beg not even the fall out of the celestial realm hurt as much.

Solomons grunts and your moans became louder as his thrusts became rougher, his hips buckling as he released himself inside of you his fingers digging into your hips as you pressed yourself against him squeezing him as you hit your climax.

Belphegor's world collapsed at that moment, his heart shattering as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. He had everything planned out, you and him together, and there was nothing in his mind that could destroy it. Yet here he was watching Solomon kiss you.

Tears started welling up as he thought back on all the times you would cuddle with him when you couldn't sleep, the way you would laugh and giggle at his dumb jokes or the way he sometimes wouldn’t understand game rules clearly only for him to make a whole new game. Catching a whiff or your scent he felt his limbs go limp, the sweet flowery scent that had burned into his brain, connected to all of his memories since you were always a part of his day.

The gift box slipped out of his now numb fingers, crashing to the floor as he heard you sigh the three words he had dreamt of hearing for so long, craving from the bottom of his heart.

“I love you,” you sighed as Solomon leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you too,” Solomon panted as he brushed his hair out of his face.

Belphegor slowly turned around to leave.

“Is someone there?” you asked Solomon

“Nah, the wind just pushed the door open,” Solomon smiled as he got up to kick the box out of your room and close the door.

#obey me smut #obey me belphegor #obey me #fcking posted this on the wrong blog first #im so not sorry for doing this to belpie

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my-crazy-crazy-mind · 3 years ago

Text

I'm not good at writing but I made this so here.if you have any feed back at all let me know or requests or anything I like to talk.Ill do requests for any male wrestler any links ect. Within reson no fluid play ect.

Rating:Mature only read if you are 18 or older:

Braun Strowman & Reader

His world

Trixie8923

Summary:

Your a low level worker in the wwe.You are nothing just a cog in the machine until a run in makes you more.

18+ only

Notes:

I take any WWE requests of any kind and will do my best to complete them. This story is complete. I am working on a sequel to this story. Thank you for reading if you have any suggestions or comments please let me know anything polite is welcome. Finished may make a follow up for the story but not sure. Not good at spell check ect if your intrested in editing for me let me know.

Chapter Management

Edit Chapter

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

You were nothing in the world of World Wrestling Entertainment or better known as WWE.

Just a catering aid your job was mainly to arrive before everyone with the rest of catering services put everything out then make sure everyone is happy whether its putting plates together for the superstars making their coffees etc.

If you do say so your self you were damn good at it you should be in a month it would three years since you joined WWE. Most of the superstars are nice to you of course there are some that aren't nice to anyone you just try to stay away from them and be professional.

You were lucky tho you made friends with Becky Lynch through her you were friends with Seth and the other girls were always friendly with you. It was Monday night Raw and you were taking one of your breaks talking to Becky. "Becks your crazy I know I'm trained to be a wrestler but I'm just not cut out for it I'm just happy to be near the business. Becky sighs" you always say that " yn" but I've trained with you and saw you wrestle your good you should go to a try out surprise everyone".You shake your head" when would I find the time I have a job to do Becks.

Suddenly you are lifted into the air and come face to face with a mad Bobby Lashley his low voice rumbles in your ear" I want my coffee the way you make it now "he sets you hard in front of the coffee table.

Becky stands up" hey what's the idea shes on break. Bobby shrugs" I want my coffee she's going to make it now"!You were terrified about to do as be says when you are lifted up again this time on Braun Strowmans shoulder. "Make your own coffee Bobby," he says staring him down. You gulp holding onto Braun the best you can. Bobby stomps off mad. "Uh um thanks Braun but um can I get down now"?You feel his body shake with laughter as he placed you down gently.

Becky smiled, thanks big man thought I'd have to handle myself. Braun laughed again, "I'm sure you could Becky I wouldn't doubt your ability for a moment. You just stared in wonder your heart pounding, face blood red. Ever since you saw Braun you were attracted to him every time you were near him you couldn't think straight and grew flustered unable to speak or do anything right. You take a deep breath and manage to quietly say" thank you Bbraun. He smiles gently at you pulling you against him in a side hug" any time " yn" .You stop breathing when he pulls you close and you think you're going to faint before he lets you go. You start breathing again but instantly miss his touch.

Becky gets a call from Seth and walks off to take it leaving you and Braun alone" Wellll" you start off " I better get to work thanks again Braun"- you turn to walk away when he grabs your arm. He looks nervous, "un I was wondering if you weren't busy tomorrow if you would like to go out with me. You stare at him wide-eyed unable to speak but you manage to nod to him. He smiled "well I have your number I'll text you".He quickly leaves to get ready for his match leaving you alone and stunned.

You were done for the night about to leave when your phone vibrated, you looked at it and there was a text from Braun."Have you left yet?"You quickly typed " no".It's only a second later when you received another text " meet me outside the locker room?".You gulp and text back " on my way" before u could change your mind. You put your phone away grabbed your bag and hurried toward the locker room.

You arrive at the locker room door and there is no one around. You have just taken your phone out to text Braun when the locker room door opens and Bobby storms out right into you knocking you to the floor. He growls" stay out of the way you nothing "- he stomps out. Braun opens the door hearing the commotion " what's going on Bob........He sees you on the floor tears in your eyes clutching your right leg. Braun reaches down picking you upholding you close to him. "Oh " yn" I'm so sorry are you ok?

You whine "my leg he stepped on it".Braun growled he knocked you down and steeped on you I'm going to...You cry out in pain stopped his rant. He carried you to the trainer's room, they look you over as Braun paces. Triple H looks over the tape as we wait his face looking furious.

"That dick" he growled The trainer looked up from your leg " it's not broken he said badly bruised its a wonder it's not broken You breathe a sigh of relief. Triple H does as well " I'm sorry this happened I'm going to find him and whatever else I can do including an apology. Braun growls" not good enough this isn't the first time he messed with her I want him. Triple H sighed then looked at you. Becky was telling me your a trained wrestler is that true.

You grit your teeth from the pain. Yes, sir, I am. I have trained for 6 years and was in the independents for 3 before coming here.."Alright" he said I'm going to sign you to a contract we are going to show the footage of him walking over you and make it a storyline you, Braun, and Bobby. Braun smiles " good I'll destroy him for treating her like trash. You gulp " I I I uh I ".Triple H nodded" I'll have your contract ready Monday before the show you will arrive early at one pm look it over and if it's all good sign it. You just nod humbly Braun grinning beside your arm wrapped around your good side. Triple H excused himself and left.

Braun picked up his and your bag leading you toward the exit. He looked nervous " before all this started I wanted to ask you if you wanted to travel with me to the next show especially now since your off till Monday. You somehow manage to find your voice " I'd love to Braun I usually just ride in the back of the van with all the equipment. He shook his head" yn" if you'll let me I'll make sure you never have to again. He stops at the full-size sedan putting both yours and his bags in the trunk.

You hop in the passenger side buckling up" I'll drive when we stop next. Braun smiles getting in buckling up himself " we will talk about it then alright sweetheart. You blush at the nickname.

Sometime during the drive you fall asleep you wake up to Braun gently shaking you "We're here".You blink the sleep away. "Hey, I was spouse to drive some" you pout before yelping in pain as you move your leg forgetting the accident for a second. He looked down at you amused, "maybe next time when you are not hurt let's go check into the hotel".You follow and get checked in with no issues. Braun went to check in as you waited you hear the woman at the desk" oh I'm so sorry sir it seemed we accidentally double-booked your room and have no more available I'm going to refund your money and give you a voucher for a free night at any of our locations. He walks over to you looking stunned, the voucher still in hand. You can't let him just wander around looking for a hotel so you reach up grabbing his hand pulling him toward the elevator. He looks confused. You smile " Big man you helped me out now it's my turn you're going to stay with me. He starts stammering " I I uh I I.You giggle pulling him out of the elevator toward your room." Yes you can and will end of discussion. "You sit your bag down by the bed sitting on it."Braun, we are both adults, while your extremely large we are lucky I'm small and got a king-sized bed now relax it's almost eleven pm we need to sleep if you want to take me on a date tomorrow before needing to go meet with triple H sign my contract, etc. He nods gulping before looking through his suitcase.

Braun went to take a shower while he was in the bathroom you changed into your T-shirt you wore at night then sighed you usually only wore the tee shirt and your panties. You see Brauns open suitcase and put on one of his tee shirts it came to your knees and figured that was good enough. You crawled under the covers texting Becky about what's going on. She was excited and texted to keep her in the loop that we would double date. I laughed shaking my head. Braun walked out of the bathroom in a pair of basketball shorts " what's so funny?"You look up at him " Becky already has us as a couple and wants us to double date with her and Seth at CrossFit. He chuckled " I was wondering if you would agree to be in a relationship with me?" You look at him dumbstruck." are you serious Braun? He sat on the bed looking down at you " Never been any more serious in my whole life I love everything about you your so nice, sweet, passionate, caring, and more your everything I could want in a girlfriend and eventually more. You stare at him tearing up nodding your voice straining with emotion " I'd love to be your girlfriend Braun. He leans down kissing you gently. You close your eyes gripping at his shoulder as if he was going to fade away.

He pulls away stroking your cheek "baby I've been waiting a long time for this and I don't want to rush it and maybe ruin this so let's get some sleep ok?you nod laying down he did the same and you curl up against him it takes a while but eventually, you fall asleep curled against Braun.

The next morning you stretch and notice Braun, not in bed you sit up and see him sitting at the little table in the room talking on his phone eating some breakfast he got. You crawl out of bed walking behind him you reach over stealing a piece of his bacon. He smiles pulling you into his lap hugging you close to him. Into the phone sweet thanks, Gary see you tonight. He hung up "morning sweetie sleep well"?You giggle " like a rock big guy who you meeting tonight. He looked slightly worried well I called my agent he's coming to look over your contract hope it's ok I just want to make sure you get a good deal. You look up at Braun with such awe " Braun that's the kindest sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. He leans down kissing your forehead. Baby, you deserve everything I intend on making sure you get in. You hear Becky's music Braun lets you go as you find your phone answering it."Hey, Becks what's "Becky cuts in" I just heard that you and Braun slept in the same room why didn't you text me"?You sigh "Becky who told you she laughed into the phone Seth saw it last night don't worry just messing with you."You sigh in relive "Becky you had me worried thought we were on TMZ or something but I've got to go talk to you later ok?" Beck laughed" yeh get back to Braun tell him I said hi and not to wear you out too much" You basically yell into the phone " Becky!!" - she hangs up laughing.

Braun has an amused look on his face " she really is something. You nod" yeah she's something alright. Hey " yn" how's your leg?".You smile thinking it's sweet he's worried about you " I barely feel it anymore Braun. He smiles good " let's get dressed then we can go to the farmers market I heard about it's even near the arena and a park. You smile " sounds like a good plan big man."

You both dress quickly and head to the market. You browse with Braun for an hour enjoying just being around each other you both buy a fried apple pie to eat in the park and some apple cider. Braun wonders off on you and returns with a bag when you ask what it is he just says it's a surprise. You are both currently eating your snack in the park when his phone rings." Hello?"Really?" "Great thanks goodbye." Braun looks at you smiling big. My agent looked over the contract and had some things changed he got you a great deal he wants us to come to sign it. You nod."Thanks, Braun.

You and Braun walk into the room where Brauns agent and Triple H were. The agent greeted you and explained everything Braun was right it was a great deal and you eagerly agree."Alright," HHH said, " we will show the video tonight Bobby will do a promo next week the week after will be your debut where you do a promo against Bobby with Braun that's when you will announce your relationship as, well be ready".You don't know where it comes from but you immediately say " don't worry I will be."

The two weeks went by quickly with you training in the ring with Braun getting your teamwork down he was impressed about how well you were doing. You both were so busy tho you barely had time to kiss before collapsing at night due to the training in the ring and for television. Tonight tho you hope it will all pay off. You and Braun are in the gorilla position waiting. You are extremely nervous Braun sees that and hugs you close to his side " relax you got this."You smile taking a deep Breath as Brauns music went off. You lift your head getting into character. You march out first fists clinched at your side. Braun follows behind you you both March down to the middle of the ring and both he and you raise your arms at the same time.

Braun grabs the mic and hands it to you. You look around at all the fans and take a deep breath. Hello, Chicago you might not know me I'm "yn" and well I'm Braun Strowman's girlfriend".There is a mixture of cheers and boos around the arena." Hey hey, it's ok to be jealous I know I'm lucky to have this monster".Braun leans in " I'm the lucky one" There is a round of " oohs" around the arena. You smile up at him " down to business three weeks ago I was standing outside the locker room waiting on Braun when Bobby Lashley came barreling out of the door knocked me down stepped on me and called me nothing. You act chocked up and Braun takes the mic pulling you into a side hug keeping his arm around you." Bobby shes, not nothing shes my whole world, and for hurting her you are going to GET THESE HANDS!! Bobby's music plays and he and Lana walk out onto the ramp. Lana gets a mic. You are thinking we didn't rehearse, get told about, or plan this. Lana clears her throat " Yn" why are you making a big deal about this so he knocked you down at least you got to touch this Adonises body I'm sure it was exciting and now you're jealous because you can't have this perfect man. Bobby takes the mic "I'm sure even tho Braun is rather large not all of him is and cant satisfy you as I could. You are flustered and mad you grab the mic and angry growl " I'll have you know Braun is very proportion everywhere and has no problem keeping me very happy and satisfied. The crowd cheers.

Braun chuckles " why don't you come down here so you can Get These Hands? Bobby shakes his head " I'll beat you whenever I choose not on your time and I chose extreme rules. Braun grins " we will be there"You take the mic almost screaming in it " And you will Get These Hands!!

Braun then has a match where he easily squashes the indy wrestler and you both head to the back. Becky is waiting in the Gorilla and hugs you "you did so good I'm so proud of you. You smile " thanks but I wasn't told they were coming out I hope I didn't say anything wrong. Becky grins " you should be fine you danced around inappropriate perfectly.

Braun agrees with Becky before looking up at a runner who approached us." Sir ma'am McMahon and Mr. Helmsley wish to see you both in Mr.Helmsleys office. You gulp looking nervous. Braun chuckles " relax baby you didn't go off-script first and you didn't say anything wrong.

You both walk to the office Braun sees how nervous you are and takes your hand in his before knocking on the door with the other. Mr.McMahon says come in Braun opens the door and you both walk inside. Mr.McMahon is behind the desk Hunter standing beside him."Have a seat. You sit in a chair Braun stands behind you.

I'm sure you both are wondering why we called you in here. Hunter speaks up we are very proud of you "yn" we wanted to test you that's why we didn't tell you they were coming out you passed with flying colors, you skirted around being inappropriate perfectly. We have decided to extend the storyline past Extreme Rules. You smile "Thank you very much. They smile " also " Mr.McMahon slides a paper over to you and you see a tee shirt design with your name on it. You look up surprised. Hunter looks at you "Like it?" Like it? I love it" McMahon slides you another paper "sign and we will get it into production." You quickly sign it. You and Braun walk out extremely happy once you are into a free hallway you hug each other.

He holds you close " I'm so proud of you baby I love you".It feels like your world stopped as you looked up at him tears in your eyes." I love you to Braun." You stay together hugging for a while before heading to the locker rooms to get your bags.

You both go to the hotel room, shower and you are currently snuggling in bed your head on his bare chest. You look up at him "Braun I um well can we?"Braun looks down at you " can we what baby?" he asks smirk on his face. Your face is blood red " You lean up kissing him deeply he returns the kiss slipping his tongue in your mouth placing his hand on the back of your head.

He pulls back slightly looking into your eyes. Are you sure you would like to do this baby? You smile up at Braun," please Brauny, please.

He slowly pulls you into the middle of the bed nipping your neck "you're so beautiful".His words make you blush. He pulls the shirt off of you leaving you only in your panties. His large hands cover your boobs he pinches your nipples causing your back to arch and cry out. He watches concentrating on your reactions." Mmmmmm Braun more, please. He chuckles " We got all night baby.

He pinches your nipples again you jump and twist one of his nipple rings. He growls at you carefully you are playing a dangerous game baby girl."Mmmmm maybe we could get you some nipple rings. You smile "next break we get I'm game. He reaches down pulling on your panties and accidentally tears them from your body causing you to gasp. He blushes " sorry". You giggle " buy me a new pair and we are good. Braun chuckles " if you let me see them on you I'll buy you ten. You feel him gently slide one of his large fingers inside of you it causes you to moan. Its voice is low with lust " baby you are soaked

It causes you to groan. Braun starts to rub your g spot quickly putting some pressure on it. The sensation causes you to wiggle under him he holds you down with his free hand. You cry out cumming hard your vision goes white. You hardly feel him slide into you all the way to the hilt. As you come down you feel his size in you causing you to whimper some. Braun kisses and nips at your neck to distract you.

After a few moments, you buck up against him testing it."Alright, I'm good you can move" Braun kisses you gently and starts thrusting in and out of you steady and hard. You pant moaning against his lips. Braun pulls away from kissing your shoulders and neck." Brauunnn" you moan " faster please faster" Braun Angel's his self arching into your clit causing you to see stars." Braun, I'm close" you pant out. He keeps going he reaches down pinching your g spot it pushes you over the edge it causes you to cum so hard you pass out. He cums in you and pulls out. He cleans you both up and carries you to the other bed in the room. He crawls in beside you and falls asleep with you.

You wake the next morning Brauns arms wrapped around you. He's fast asleep holding you close you stare at him for a few minutes before trying to get loose. He grumbles in his sleep pulling you closer. His hand slips between your legs and starts rubbing your G-spot. You gasp "Braun "? He snores some as his hand keeps rubbing. You moan wiggling in his grasp it makes you start panting."Braun" You cry out before cumming Braun wakes to blink his hand stilling.

He pulls his hand away " did I hurt you?" You shake your head " no you just gave me a mind-blowing orgasm. He chuckles well if that's all. He rubs your cheek " you are perfect. Braun, you are such a sweet talker.

It has been a week since you debuted on Monday Night Raw and you and Braun have been making love any chance you got. You were both backstage talking to Seth and Becky when Tripple H ran up " we have a problem Brock refuses to show up and we need to fill five minutes. Bobby and Lana had done a promo earlier we need you to do a counter one but you will have to wing it with no script.

You follow him backstage to where a camera crew is."I'm trusting you to don't let me down. You stand in front of Braun he drapes his arms over your shoulders. You nod at the cameraman and he indicates it's recording. You smirk " Oh Bobby you look a little frustrated is Lana not enough woman for you? Braun smirks never look for a lady in a hooooooooooo. Braun lifts his hand in a thumbs-up as the whole arena echoes hoooooooo. Braun is going to take you out and Lana if you try to interfere in the destruction of your bf. You are going to get these hands you slut.

They indicate the recording is over. They quickly send it to the production truck.HHH grins it is perfect like I knew you would do perfectly I see great things in your future "yn"."Thank you sir me and Braun always do our best. I would not be anywhere near the level I am without him. Braun suddenly places you on his shoulder" nonsense "yn" "you are a talented hard worker."

Extreme Rules come before you know it the match had been made a No discolifacation match. Braun and Bobby practiced some but with the hatred between you four, it was decided to wing most of it. You are pacing backstage scared to death. Braun walks up behind you placing a hand on your shoulder. Calm down " yn" we have been practicing for this we are going to destroy them. I nod "you're right big man ".

The match was violent both men put to destroy the other you and Lana kept out of the way most of the match. Then the referee was knocked down that was planned. Lana slid into the ring with a chair that was unplanned so you follow suit sliding into the ring with your own chair. You and Lana glared at each other in a standoff. Lana screamed and swung the chair at you you swing yours at the same time you are stronger knocking her off of her feet she rolls out of the ring clutching her hands to her chest screaming. You throw the chair to Braun you turn to get out of the ring and Bobby kicks you in the head everything goes black.

Your groan blinking "too bright". A large hand moves in front of your face " thanks big boy".Braun smiles " do you remember what happened?" You whine rubbing your head. Heard Lana say now Bobby take him out for good I stopped her he kicked me right?" You slowly move Brauns's hand and see you're in a hospital room. Yeh they caught it in audio they both have been suspended you broke both of her hands".I smile " so how bad am I?" Braun stroked your cheek concussion you'll be out for 2-4 weeks. Management is doing damage control and when you come back they plan on pushing you maybe put the title on you. I close my eyes " not good enough he will do it to someone else" He nods that's what I said they've agreed he won't come back unless he takes anger management goes through psychological counseling, and a harassment course then they will consider letting him back Lana has to do the same"." Also, both are required to stay 30 feet from us both at all time and we won't have to wrestle them again."

You open your eyes looking up at him " thank you Braun that sounds good".You notice tears in his eyes" I'm sorry "yn" I should have been able to protect you." You shake your head taking his hand." Braun I love you this wasn't your fault it's mine because I was protecting you and I would do it again." Braun smiles sniffling. I love you too.

You went home to rest for the weeks you recovered you and Braun texted and talked on the phone but you missed him like crazy. It was WrestleMania weekend so you didn't hear much from Braun. You had just got cleared to wrestle when Triple H called he had you get on a plane and fly straight there. They kept you hidden from everyone but Becky you and her practiced because she was going to drop the belt to you in the ultimate Wrestlemania surprise.

Tonight was the night you were waiting alone in a guarded locker room when Triple H walked in." ready "yn".You stand "you are going to make sure Braun watches right?" He smiles " yeh I'll make sure he's in the gorilla position." Thanks, Trip. You make your way to the gorilla position. Becky was in the ring " I'm tired of facing the same old woman week in week out this is Wrestlemania so any woman I haven't wrestled for the championship this is your time.

Your music played and the entire crowd was on their feet. The noise was deafening as you walked onto the stage. You smile brightly " I'll take that offer Becky" then you run to the ring. The match was the best you ever put on. In the end, you finished Becky off in a modified version of the rko.

The crowd was deafening but you didn't notice you hugged the title crying you never thought this would happen that your life would be so perfect. Brauns music snapped you back from your celebration. He hurried to the ring hugging you closely.

The entire locker room fills the ramp as Braun grabs a mic you put the championship on your shoulder. Braun stood across from you taking your hand "Yn" I met you a few months ago and I knew from the moment I saw you you were special, my love for you has just grown from that day. Will you do me the honor of spending the rest of our lives together?"Braun gets down on one knee pulling out a box he slowly opens it revealing the most gorgeous ring you have ever seen." "Yn" will you marry me"?

You shiver everything overwhelming you. You look down at his love in your eyes. You nod " yes yes yes Braun yes yes".The crowd is deafening the roster invades the ring everyone congratulating you both. You are on top of the world it couldn't get any better. Lana slipped into the crowd no one noticed her she slipped up behind you and hit your leg as hard as she could with a bat. You feel to the ground screaming grabbing your leg rolling around in agony. Security drags Lana off as the rest of the roster tries to get you help.

Just like that your whole life is changed forever

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emmyrosee · 5 years ago

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Staying.

On The Run II

Part One.

This most certainly isn’t timely; hell, I doubt there’s any interest for this story anymore; but after writing it, scraping it, writing it and scraping it and finally getting it? I don’t care what you guys want, I’m happy 🥰

This certainly isn’t the most fun chapter, but boy HOWDY I was excited when I saw all my dots connect and UGH I’m pumped😂❤️

WARNINGS: verbal fighting, language

Gordan Merkel x Fugitive!Reader; after a series of unfortunate events lands you in East Berlin, you fear almost everyone and everything that lands in your path. And it forces you to cross with a stranger who takes a risk on you.

---------

“I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy.”

You can’t help but find some humorous comfort in the words. Gordan’s small home definitely wasn’t anything fancy. Two bedrooms, one full bathroom with a small half in the hallway. The kitchen was standard, present as soon as you walk past the frame of the front door.

You clutched the blanket around your shoulders tighter as your eyes scan the room thoroughly. Some art work decorated the light brown walls, curtains drawn tight. It wasn’t exactly in the city, a small cel de sac in which houses were spread along the curve. According to Gordan, the lovely people who lived there were more than happy to either assist him or become part of the rebellion, so while hiding you would be mandatory, being heard would only be concerning if they caught your face.

Allegedly.

Woods decorated the backyard and seemed to stretch for miles, and the sun raising was no match for the branches.

It seemed fine, small and sweet as it stays happily in the ground. You most certainly are ready to regrow your clipped wings and sleep on a bed, with lamps and blankets and windows with golden sunlight to peek through them.

That is, until Gordan guides you gently to The Room.

Hidden only by the back of a reclining chair, The Room is a small cubby-like hole, dropping down to a five-foot tall landing. The small opening is a perfect square, and the short stool just under it seems large in comparison to just how little of room there is to spare.

Boxes of liquor and crates of naught magazines take up even more room, and in the corner, a pile of blankets and a single pillow on top of a twin mattress. There’s a small pile of empty water bottles and discarded wrappers of German junk food that litter the already messy hole, and you can barely make out the small lamp and curtain drawn window against the wall.

“It’s not exactly the most spacious or comfortable room,” Gordan sighs, staring in the dark room. “But my rebels, they use the it as well. It’s never failed me before.”

Your eyes fixate on the small space, wondering silently as to how many rebels were in this port before. Gordan smiles, “it’s a lot bigger than it looks. And it’s only for a couple hours a day. When I get back home, assuring everything is shut, I will be able to let you out.”

Your eyes drift over at Gordan, who’s smiling face is focused on the Room. He holds an expression of relief, and while you can’t pinpoint your feelings, a certain calmness washes over you as well.

He seemed to have that effect on people- hell, he was able to ground you after being so skittish for three years. His whole aura was full of protection, and you couldn’t help but relish in this new feeling.

This was going to work.

—

The first few days were fine.

From 6:30 am, to 8:30 pm, Gordan was out at work. When he comes home, he doesn’t talk much about his day, though he pours you both a glass of wine and starts to make dinner before scurrying off to bed. You’re allowed to walk around when he’s home, but when he goes to bed, you’re only allowed three hours to completely get your “freedom” fix.

Television volume can only be one-fourth of the way up, and make sure the stereo is turned all the way down before playing.

Fridge is open to anything, as is the library and shower, and it all just worked.

And just as it started to come together, you could feel it slowly slipping apart.

Gordan had been staying later and later, cooking less and less and being unable to buy more and more groceries. The Room locked from the outside, though he left a lock-picking-Kit in case of any emergencies. The window creates some light, same with the lamp, but they’re so dim, what’s the point.

He’s given you books to read, mainly about Sweden and the culture and language, you assume it’s sorta like a last resort.

But you can only read for so long.

You can only count the marks on your face and deal with the flicking of the lamp, and draw shapes in the water-stains on the window for so long.

More often than not, you just end up sleeping.

Or, sort of sleeping? It’s hard to tell anymore, you think you’re asleep with how dark it is, but sometimes your muscle jerks and you think “hey, that’s never woken me up before” only to the repeat the cycle. Before, the scary shapes your imagination would try to pain through the darkness would scare you. Now they’re you’re friends, and you feel your heart shatter when they leave.

At least when you were on the run, you had endless space... here, you’re not quite sure what you have.

You just know it’s not nearly enough.

You feel you’re homesickness transform from your home and family, to the streets.

Little did Gordan know just how bad you wanted to go back.

———

You’re not quite sure when you dozed back off.

You must’ve as a loud clomp! makes your eyes fly open, only to slowly fall back shut.

Then to fly back open as the sound of thick, heavy boot-steps pound on the floor in front of the room, and after a loud screech of furniture moving, the lock to the door clicks open, head spinning wildly at the noise. Your eyes fall to the dim alarm clock.

11:42.

At night? Had you honestly been left alone for 16 hours? Left to nothing but sleep and count hair follicles on your arms?

There’s an immense, sudden flood of light that clouds your vision, and in the middle of it was Gordan Merkel. The first part of you is washed with relief, it’s just him and not the authorities as he could’ve easily given you away.

The second part of you? Rage.

“My sincerest apologies,” he says immediately, watching cautiously as you crawl out of the room. “I had to stay late, make some adjustments to files and shit. What can I get you? Are you hungry?”

With each excuse and word that Gordan says, your arms tighten over your chest, and tears sting the back of your eyes.

“Please?” He continues, “I’ll make some dinner and-“

“You’re unbelievable!” You shout, storming out of the room. Gordan’s eyes widen as he shushes you, waving his hands to quell your anger.

“I can explain-“

“I am not some fucking dog!” You scream.

“Please do not yell, we can’t stir suspicion-“

“Fuck your suspicion! You cannot leave me for hours on end with no food, no water, a crappy sense of time, what kind of monster are you!”

“There were issues at work I had to resolve,” Gordan says firmly, gripping your biceps. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

“I don’t have to trust you with anything,” you hiss. You flick yourself away in anger, and Gordan pushes the fallen strands of his gelled hair back, his face holding venom so powerful, you feel sick. It sends a chill through you, and as much as you hate him, you know he’s in control.

“People who actually have to stay here, stay quite and keep to themselves. You think I like having to hide a fugitive such as yourself in my house, putting both of us in extreme goddamned danger? Do you not understand the risk I am taking for you?”

You freeze, and your heart stops. Of course you knew what a risk he was taking. Anyone associated with hiding you could be in jail themselves, but was supporting him really worth being treated like an animal?

“Y-yes, Mr Merkel,” you whimper, looking at your feet.

Evidently, yes.

Gordan takes a stride towards you, eyes still firm and authoritative. “I promised you safety, and safety is what I give you. If you are truly unhappy with my methods, you do not have to stay. Make my life safer. One less tally of suspense on my back.”

Your heart stops as if Gordan held the button to make it cease, and he just pressed it. You knew you wanted to stay, it was warmer and more assuring than outside. It was better. Gordan was nice to you, this much you knew for sure. You’d been lying to yourself, the streets were scary, you never wanted to go back.

You shrink back from him, slowly turning on your heel to blink and dab at the tears burning your sleepless, aching eyes.

You hate him. You hate him you hate him you fucking hate him. You hate this control he holds over you. You hate this twisted freedom-hostage situation. Of course you can leave anytime. You know he’s not going to stop you, but you can’t bring yourself to do so.

Against your own will, a tight, nearly silent sob squeaks through your trembling lips, and behind you, you hear Gordan sigh.

“Look at me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“And I don’t want you to cry, look at me.”

Slowly, your shaking frame turns to face him, and as you see his softened, easy face, another sob catches your throat. He crouches to meet your gaze, and when you try to look away, he tips your chin to look at him.

“Listen to me,” he says, low and firm. “I want you to be safe, alright? Your being here makes me feel like I have a control of you being alright. I don’t know what they’ll do to you if those morons find you- what I do know is when you’re here, yes, I might be late, but you’re here. And the plan is just one day closer. Do you understand me?”

You blink up at him and say nothing, a thick, hot tear slipping down your warmed cheek. He wipes it away with his knuckle, clearly unable to see how he hurt you. “But, if I’m going to keep you as safe as I can, I have to make it seem like nothing has changed. If I make anything questionable, rumors will fly. And I cannot lie to my rebels. So,” he gently grips your chin in his hand. “For now, I need you to just trust me, alright?”

Your eyes avoid his, and you gently nod your head in understanding. Gordan sighs and pushes himself up, “as long as the curtains stay closed, feel free to roam.” He rolls up his sleeves and gently walks down the hall, leaving you and your spinning head alone in the darkened living room.

Another weak, pathetic sob rips through you, and with nothing better to do, you climb back into the room, easing the door shut, part of you secretly hoping that Gordan would forget you.

Forget you, your crimes, and everything in between.

------

OTR taglist (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed)❤

@hecohansen31

@youaremyfamiliar

@shyvirgoanon

@kathryn-jane

@billofourtime

@little-grunge-flowerz

@bethskarsgard

#i truly and genuinely don't know who to tag HA #my list is so old i cant lmfao #gordan merkel #gordan merkel x reader #gordan merkel fluff #gordan merkel angst #gordan merkel x reader fluff #gordan merkel x reader angst #gordan merkel imagine #gordan merkel atomic blonde #atomic blonde #atomic blonde imagine #atomic blonde angst #atomic blonde fluff #merkel #merkel x fugitive!reader #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard

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shannygoatgruff · 4 years ago

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Big Scary Love

(Header made by the talented @flowers-in-your-hayr)

For @a-mess-of-fandoms Kayla’s 1K Writing Challenge: Prompt #20 (prompt in bold in text below)

Characters: Ivar || Ubbe

Genre: Romance

Warning: None

Rating: PG

Summary: A little brother seeks approval as he’s about to make the biggest decision of his life.

A/N: I was supposed to have written and submitted this one-shot for @a-mess-of-fandoms months ago, but I suck! I have struggled with this thing so much. I have literally rewritten it 19 times. I don’t know why one-shots are so hard for me. The only have to be one scene, but I struggle with did I choose the right scene, how much do I want to say about it, did I find resolution? Needless to say, I was never happy with anything I wrote. It still didn’t turn out exactly as I hoped, but it’s close.

Congrats on your many followers! I’m sorry I’m so late.

Big Scary Love

Lothbrok’s Bar and Grille sat approximately two miles south off of exit 131B between Kattegat and Hedeby.

Established in 1990, the bar was built from the ground up by the Sigurdsson brothers, Ragnar and Rollo, as a place where the blue-collar people of both towns could get a good meal and stiff drink. It was also the place where Ragnar’s sons had grown up and naturally where they chose to carry on the childhood tradition of their monthly family game night.

Dating back to when Bjorn first taught Ubbe and Hvitserk how to play Go Fish, when they were the ages of 6 and 4. respectively, the boys would meet at a table in the back of the restaurant to play games. It helped keep them close, especially since Bjorn lived in Hedeby with Lagertha and the other boys lived in Kattegat with Aslaug. But, the bar was in the middle, on neutral territory. It provided a place where they could all gather and remain close when distance and the common dislike between the adults threatened to tear them apart.

Almost thirty years later the tradition continues at 7:30 pm on the third Thursday of the month. Bjorn and his wife Gunnhild, Ubbe along with his wife Torvi, Hvitserk and his girlfriend Amma, Sigurd with his boyfriend Kalf, and Ivar who vowed to start bringing his girlfriend, Cami, would gather, at the table in the back left corner, to play the game of choice according to whose name was next on the chalkboard.

Watching the door, Ivar’s brows raise when he recognizes his older brother cross the threshold. Slowly, he continues to organize the colorful money so that all the faces aligned in the same direction and before placing it back in the bank. A quick nod acknowledges the fact that Ubbe is headed to the bar to get a drink before he takes a seat at the large table in the back corner of the room, already set for the brothers’ monthly game. Tonight’s game is his pick, Monopoly.

Ubbe shivers slightly, trying to knock off the outside chill as he brushes the fresh snow from his black wool pea coat. As he approaches the bar, he removes his gloves and smiles at his younger brother. “Hvitserk,” he sings, clasping the younger Ragnarsson’s hand before drawing him into a manly hug, “How’s it going, brother?”

“Pretty good,” Hvitserk answers patting his brother on the back with a smile, “What are you doing here so early? We’re not supposed to meet for another,” he looks up at the clock built into the ship’s wheel on the far wall, “hour.”

“Ah,” Ubbe puts one his foot on the wooden rungs of the bar stool and balances his weight on his other leg while he plays with the coaster, “Ivar asked me to meet him here early.” He looks over his right shoulder toward the table in the back and holds up a finger to his youngest brother and then points to the bar to ask if he would like a drink. “Do you know what’s up with him?”

“He probably wants you to help him cheat,” Hvitserk explains as he takes the towel from over his shoulder and wipes down the side of the bar to Ubbe’s left. “The usual?” He prepares two drinks, when Ubbe holds up two fingers, for both of his brothers. “Oh, Angrboda just made a huge pot of Helga’s seafood stew.”

Ubbe’s eyes light up as he nods his head, “That sounds great. I’m fucking freezing. Send over a large bowl with bread, yeah?” He knocks on the bar twice, as is customary, before picking up the glasses and makes his way to the table.

Ubbe sits the drinks on the table and smiles cheerfully, “Hey, baby boy.” He walks around and hugs his brother’s head before leaning down to kiss him on the top of his hair, “How you doing, kid? You good?” Receiving a pat on his forearm, he playfully pushes Ivar away before flopping down on a chair beside him.

“Hey,” Ivar answers watching his brother sit, holding an awkward smile on his lips, “thanks for meeting me early.” He takes a look out the window at the falling snow covering up his uneven footprints on the sidewalk, “It’s getting bad out there?”

“Nah, not really. Should have a good covering come morning, but nothing too bad.” Ubbe picks up his glass and takes a drink, stretching his lips across his teeth as the sour taste of the vodka gimlet settles on his tongue. He takes note of the way his brother is arranging the game pieces and watches for a moment before he speaks, “So…what’s going on? Why did I need to meet you here before the others?”

Ivar takes a sip of the Guinness Stout and picks up the Chance cards to arrange them all in the same direction, “Well, uh, Ubbe. I wanted to talk to you, about…about, Camille.”

“What about her?” Ubbe isn’t sure where this conversation is headed. He’s only met her a handful of times and she seems nice enough, though he’s not sure she’s the one for Ivar. There’s no reason for him to feel that way, it’s just something in his gut that says the relationship will be short-lived.

“So,” Ivar takes in a deep breath. Having rehearsed his speech for the better part of the day, he struggles to remember to pace himself and breathe, “You know we’ve been together for a little over a year now and things are going in a really good direction with us. She’s moving in with me. We’ve even talked about looking for a small house together.” He looks up from the game box to gauge his brother’s reaction. Unable to read Ubbe’s face he continues, “I want to ask her to marry me.”

Ubbe coughs down the gimlet that gets caught in his throat as he swallows. He sits back in the chair and leans against the backrest folding his arms across his chest. He tries to keep his mouth closed to let his brother finish but the words start to spill out his mouth, “Oh, Ivar,” he chuckles, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why because she’s Afro-Latina and not Viking? I thought you of all people would understand that our differences don’t matter to me. Hell, I’m different, and it didn’t stop her from wanting to be with me,” Ivar defends.

“Of course not, brother. I’m not a dick,” Ubbe places his hand on his brother’s arm to calm him, “I only meant that she’s your first girlfriend. I get that you’re excited, and everything is still pretty new with you two. But, you don’t have to run out and propose to the first girl that you -” he raises his brows and ducks his head to signal Ivar what he’s talking about. “You will have lots of relationships. You will meet a ton of beautiful women that will blow your mind in bed. Hell, you might even want to marry them all. We all know Bjorn tries to,” both brothers chuckle at that, “but it’s not necessary.”

“You don’t understand, Ubbe.” Ivar interrupts, “it’s not like that.”

“You don’t understand, kid. Bjorn will never release your shares from this place before you’re 30. Especially not if he knew you would be just turning it over to some girl and knowing you it would be without a prenup. Without the interest on that trust, what will you do for money, huh? Work for Hvitserk?” He raises his brow at Ivar while ignoring the flash of anger in the younger man’s eye. “Rollo and Father put every dime and ounce of sweat they had into this restaurant to give us a legacy. You are too young to remember, but there were nights when Father would not come home because he was here laying the foundation, brick by brick. There were also many times when Mother had nothing but soup to feed us all because there was no money to buy meat; father spent it all to see his dream come true. His dream was for us to have a better life and we did. When he died, we all got a piece of this place and the money from it is for our future.”

Ubbe blinks his blue eyes thoughtfully at the younger man beside him, “Besides, baby boy, you are so impulsive – as soon as you get an idea, you jump on it. You don’t always think things through. Have you really thought about this?”

“When Bjorn decided to join the Army and go to war, we didn’t tell him he couldn’t go. We let him go live out his dreams of being one of the Avengers. And was Hvitserk being impulsive when he decided that he wanted to take this place over after Helga died? He did not know the restaurant business. Liking to eat and running a restaurant are two different things, but none of us tried to talk him out of it?” Ivar rolled his eyes and slammed the game cards onto the board, “We all rallied around him and pooled our money together to help him remodel this place how he wanted. We promised that even if he fucked up we would pitch in and help keep this place afloat. My money is here, too. I should be able to have it if I want it.”

“But, Ivar…”

“I’m not finished, Ubbe,” Ivar runs his fingers through his long, loose hair and pulls it over to one shoulder, “When you decided to marry Torvi, a woman that had three children that weren’t yours, did any of us say anything? No. We could see that you loved her and that she made you happy and that was enough. And Sigurd? He was scared as hell to tell us about Kalf, but in the end, it was fine, because he’s our brother and we support each other. But why not me?”

Ubbe takes another drink and sets his cup down silently. He regards his little brother and smiles at him softly, “Because you, my little Ivar, are my baby brother and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He squeezes Ivar’s shoulder lovingly, “I have always looked out for you. I have been your legs since you were a child. You are a part of me, brother, and I must protect you.”

“You can’t protect me from love, Ubbe. She’s my big scary love,” Ivar’s eyes drop bashfully as the blush stains his cheeks.

“Your what?”

“That’s what we call it – big scary love. You know that love you feel all the time, but sometimes you wake up in the morning and you just say to yourself, ‘I love the fuck out of this woman?’ It’s that love that after a year I still feel fluttering in my chest when I hear her ringtone and why my world spirals out of control when I see tears in her eyes. And she loves me that way, too, Ubbe. I mean, look at me,” he opens his hands in surrender, “In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find someone who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you. Well, she does. She loves me like that and so much more. My legs, crawling around, breaking bones, the pain, my temper...hell, she loves me despite those things. To her, they are just additional sides of me to love.”

Ubbe listens to his brother, trying to keep the tears that threaten to spring to his eyes at bay. He can hear it in Ivar’s voice that he is truly happy. Now, he regrets not getting to know Cami better, but he admits to himself that he did not think that their relationship would last. “I am happy that you found love, Ivar.”

“She’s pregnant.”

Ubbe unintentionally holds his breath as he tries to think of something else to say, but no words will come out. Why can’t Ivar see what he’s doing? This is all the more reason for him not to make this mistake.

“That’s not the reason why I want to marry her, though.” Ivar smile doubles in size as he thinks about the prospect of becoming a father, “I’ll admit the idea of having a baby is like…fuck! But, I want to marry her because I want to make her my family. I want it all, Ubbe; a family of my own, with her. She’s it for me.”

“So, what do you want from me?”

With a shrug, Ivar relaxes, “Your permission? Your blessing? Congratulations? I don’t know. You’ve always been my favorite brother – I guess I just want to know that I’ll still have you in my corner. I don’t give a fuck about the money from the restaurant. If Bjorn wants to be an ass and tie it up for years, so be it. I’ll get a real job and stop living off of the family name. The only thing I want is Mother’s ring. I want to propose the right way…and maybe you in my corner.”

Ubbe cups one hand around Ivar’s cheek and gives him a few hits, “My baby brother has finally grown up!” Leaning in, he places his other hand on Ivar’s other cheek before pulling his face toward him to kiss him on both cheeks, “You’re going to be a father and husband! I’m so proud and happy for you! Of course, I will stand up for you, brother. All I have ever wanted was for you to find your own happiness.” Ubbe can’t stop the laughter coming from him as he notices Hvitserk coming over to the table. “And it would be my honor to give you Mother’s ring.”

“Sorry, it took so long. Porunn was late for her shift again. Know any good people needing a job? I could use some help around here.” Hvitserk says, sitting the bowl of soup on the table. He looks at his brothers and smiles at them laughing like loons, “What are you idiots up to?”

Ubbe gives Ivar a knowing smile as he hugs him around the shoulders. “Nothing. Just our brother here has some wonderful news to share tonight when the others arrive.”

Nodding, Hvitserk punches Ivar’s arm and picks up Ubbe’s glass to toast, “Well, to whatever your news is, Ivar,” he clicks glasses with his youngest brother and finishes off Ubbe’s drink. “I’ll get you another, Ubbe.” As he turns to walk toward the bar, he yells over his shoulder, “And you’re not banker during Monopoly tonight, Ivar. You always cheat!”

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius @idea-garden @kol--mikaelson @mooniemouse @didiintheblog @waiting4inspiration @tempt-ress @where-beauty-goes-to-die @crazyaboutmotleycrue @oddsnendsfanfics @geekandbooknerd @ivarthebloodyking @honestsycrets @xbellaxcarolinax @zuxiezendler @inforapound @a-mess-of-fandoms

#big scary love #ivar lothbrok #ubbe lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok fic #ubbe lothbrok fic #modern ivar #modern ubbe #vikings fanfic #vikings fandom #shannyland #kayla's 1k challenge

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ladylillianrose · 4 years ago

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You’ve Got SPRQS a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

Summary: Zoey has a lot to consider after dancing with Max, and Max makes a decision.

A/N: Alright gang we are almost at the end! One more chapter! Thank you all for reading and your comments! I really do appreciate how much you have enjoyed this fic!

As always special thanks to my lovely beta aubreyrichman

The song is "Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Buble (Listen to it here https://youtu.be/hVu_hUTOvj0)

Chapter 12

Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 12

Zoey groaned as she rolled out of the bed the next morning. She had tossed and turned all night, unable to stop thinking about Max, their dance, and what might have been an almost kiss. Between those thoughts and trying to come up with a plan on how to tell Max about Red, she had hardly managed any sleep.

After managing to get dressed and eat some breakfast, Zoey was trying to decide what she should do with the rest of her day when her watch buzzed.

She was surprised to see that this time there was an attachment but no message.

Confused, she hit the play button. Piano music began playing. She looked at the attachment to see if he had included the lyrics as he had before when she heard Max begin singing.

I'm not surprised

Not everything lasts

I've broken my heart so many times

I stopped keepin' track

Talk myself in

I talk myself out

I get all worked up

Then I let myself down

I tried so very hard not to lose it

I came up with a million excuses

I thought, I thought of every possibility

And I know someday that it'll all turn out

You'll make me work so we can work to work it out

And I promise you kid, that I'll give so much more than I get

I just haven't met you yet

Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm

I might have to wait

I'll never give up

I guess it's half timing

And the other half's luck

Wherever you are

Whenever it's right

You come out of nowhere and into my life

And I know that we can be so amazing

And baby your love is gonna change me

And now I can see every possibility

Mmm

But somehow I know that will all turn out

And you'll make me work so we can work to work it out

And I promise you kid, I'll give so much more than I get

I just haven't met you yet

Zoey wiped the few tears that had fallen on her cheeks. He was really putting it all out there, and he deserved to know the truth.

She typed out her response.

How's Monday at 5 PM sound? Meet me in the park across from Golden Gate Grind. I'll be waiting for you at the large fountain there.

She held her breath as she nervously waited for his reply. There was no backing out this time, she owed it to him.

Yes.

________________________________________________________________

Max had been playing his dance with Zoey over and over again in his head. It had almost seemed as though she wanted him to kiss her, but that doesn't make sense….does it?

And then there was Red, they had gotten much closer throughout the months. He was starting to wonder if they should try to meet again. Would that be a mistake? Would she bail on him again?

But then there were all those odd coincidences and similarities between Zoey and Red….her buying the sunflowers, calling them friendly just like Red had. Her humming "Friday I'm In Love," the day after he had sent Red that song….The fact that Zoey happened to come by when he was supposed to meet Red...those all just happened to be coincidences...right? Or was the universe trying to tell him something?

Max shook his head and walked over to sit at the piano. He hit the record button on his phone and began to play the perfect song to describe his feelings. Instead of including the lyrics, he decided to sing along this time. He wanted to make sure she could hear the sincerity in his voice as he sang for her.

He sent her the attached song without a message. The decision was up to her, he didn't want to scare her off again.

His watch buzzed and he opened her message.

How's Monday at 5 PM sound? Meet me in the park across from Golden Gate Grind. I'll be waiting for you at the large fountain there.

He let out a sigh of relief as he replied.

Yes.

________________________________________________________________

"You were right, I should have told Max a while ago. So I arranged a meeting between him and Red for after work tomorrow. And I'm going to tell him everything," Zoey explained to Mo.

Mo raised his eyebrows in response but chose to say nothing.

"You're not going to tell me that you told me so?" She was surprised at his non-reaction to her news.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Mo replied, sipping his tea.

"You don't think I'll go through with it?"

"I think that you think you'll go through with it until it comes time to send then you won't," he replied.

Zoey couldn't argue with him, she did have a terrible track record when it came to dealing with emotions.

She ran her fingers through her hair and groaned in frustration.

"So, what great divine intervention inspired you to come clean?" Mo asked.

Zoey mumbled something, hiding her face in her hands.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that…"

"Max and I almost kissed at the club…"

Mo smirked, waiting for her to continue.

"And I realized that maybe...maybe...you were right and things may not be as one-sided as I thought. So, before we head in that direction I owe it to him to come clean." Zoey sighed, knowing that Max would have every right to be furious.

Mo nodded, "I'm proud of you for finally realizing that. I know you're scared, but I really do think things will work out okay."

Zoey nodded and took her leave, determined to try and get a good night's sleep before the most important day of her life.

As soon as he heard Zoey's door close, Mo pulled out his phone and began texting.

Group message from Mo: Zoey is planning on coming clean to Max tomorrow after work.

Tobin: Think she'll actually do it this time?

Mo: She says she's determined to but she may need a little extra push.

Joan: You think we should?

Mo: It might be just enough.

Tobin: Alright, I'll take care of it.

Joan: I really hope this works, I don't know what else we can do otherwise.

Mo: If this doesn't work then we go to plan E.

Tobin: Plan E?

Mo: Trap them in Max's apartment building's elevator. I know exactly which cords to cut to make it stop.

Joan: How was this not our first idea Tobin?

Tobin: I didn't want to be cliche! But at this point, I'll do whatever it takes to get them together. I can't handle anymore of their obliviousness, wistful sighs and longing looks. It's too much!!

Mo: Agreed. So, make it happen! Mo shook his head, hopefully,

Tobin wouldn't make things any worse….

________________________________________________________________

Monday

"I'm glad you wanted to grab lunch because I have something important to tell you," Max smiled at her. "You know that girl I've been talking to on SPRQS?" At Zoey's nod, he continued, "I'm meeting her later today."

Zoey took a sip of her drink unsure of how to respond. "The one who didn't show up at your last meeting?"

Max frowned slightly, "Yes, but we talked about what happened. And we decided to take things slower, but I think it's finally time for us to meet."

"Even though she stood you up, you're still willing to give her a chance?" Zoey winced at how harsh she sounded.

He glanced at her confused, "Well, yeah. We all make mistakes, and it would be foolish to cut myself off from someone I feel such a connection with."

"And you're sure this girl is worth it?"

He sighed, “I don’t know, I know we have a connection and that I’d like to see where it goes. It may turn into something, or it may be nothing at all.”

“So, you’re willing to take the risk? What if she’s not the person you think she is?” Zoey looked down at her hands.

“She may be, and she may not be. But, what I do know is that letting opportunities pass me by because I’m too worried about the risks is not how I want to live my life. And I do think she’s worth the risk, I’m willing to risk my heart rather than worry about the what-ifs.” Max passionately explained.

Zoey bit her lip as she looked at the man in front of her and nodded. "You deserve to be happy, Max. I hope for your sake that she's the person you think she is."

#clarkeman #clarkeman fanfiction #max x zoey #zoey x max #max x zoey fanfiction #zoey x max fanfiction #max richman #zoey clarke #Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist #zoey's extraordinary playlist fanfiction #zoeysplaylist fanfiction #ZoeysPlaylist #Zoeys playlist fanfiction #zoeys playlist #fanfiction #You've Got SPRQS

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bleepblopbloop56 · 5 years ago

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The Murder In The Dressing Room

Chapter 5: Smile

Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, ao3

Warnings: myrder, blood, gore, graphic descriptions of getting killed, needles, some unwanted kisses, really this just is my favorite chapter but its the most graphic

And like i say ever chapter @pathos-logical did all the heavy lifting and i love her more than i love myself

---

"Where do we go from here?" Remy muttered- here being a total dead end. For what felt like the hundredth time, he scanned over everything pinned up on Logan's walls. The whole thing looked a lot more like something you'd see on TV than how they usually did things, but Logan was always one for more old-school methods. Remy was fairly sure that when he’d started on the job, he'd been hoping to be much more of a black and white film noir detective than he'd turned out to be.

No matter how many times they'd looked over Logan's notes, the end result was nothing. Neither location had security cameras, and there was no DNA, no fingerprints, no footprints, and no witnesses. All they had was a mask, and Roman.

And what little they did have didn't make any sense. The murders seemed frantic and uncalculated, resembling crimes of passion rather than stone cold murders. And yet the killer never left a trace, implying they had planned every detail.

"Alright, alright," Logan groaned, throwing himself into his chair and rubbing his temples. "Let's do this again. So our timeline is…?" he trailed off. Remy scowled at Logan's expectant look, but he heaved an aggravated sigh and laid out the case for the umpteenth time.

"So, for the hundred and first time! At 5 o’ clock Monday afternoon, Thomas Sanders arrived at the Star Theater." Remy pointed to the very start of the board. "His performance ended at 8:25, and cast members can recall seeing him in the theater until around 9:30." He stopped to grab a sip of his drink before pushing forward. "He never returned home that night, and at 6:42, Tuesday morning, his roommate Roman Cardona Rodriguez-" Logan glared as Remy exaggeratedly rolled the "R's"- "had called in a dead body wearing a theater masks he'd found in dressing room number three, time of death unknown." Remy sighed, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head. No matter how many times he went over it, nothing cleared up.

"Three days later at around 7 o’clock, Roman left Remus Rodriguez’ home, claiming he was still alive when he left. You two had a makeout session in the parking lot, and at 12:56 am you and Roman discovered a dead body, also wearing a mask. Obvious signs of struggle, and as you said, Roman was found with a fresh bruise he claims was also from Remus. Is that enough for you, Specs, or will I need to do it a hundred and second time?"

Logan ignored him, mind racing a million miles per hour. "And the only connection is… Roman…" he mumbled to himself, throwing his head forward onto the desk and groaning. "Well, since we know it's not Roman-" Remy cut him an exasperated glare but didn't say anything- "the murderer has to be someone who knows him. Did he state why he moved back?"

Remy picked up a file and skimmed through it. "The official statement is he broke up with his fiance." Logan jumped so hard Remy could hear his knees bang against the desk. "Off-record, he stated that his man was getting into some sketchy bullshit that he didn't want to be a part of." In all honesty, most of Remy's investigations were off the record. He found that connecting to a suspect like a human got him way more information than Logan's methods, even if they weren't exactly as professional. Or legal.

"His fiance…" For a second Logan didn't say anything else, trying to avoid showing how much his heart stung at the words. But as if struck by lightning, he suddenly sat up in his seat. "That's a motive… Remy, that's our first lead!" Logan exclaimed. "An angry ex-fiance who wants to make Roman's life a living hell by killing off everyone he loves!"

He leapt into action, scribbling in his notebook before moving to type frantically on his computer, but Remy's reaction to the possible lead was unusually subdued.

"That's not good," Remy said quietly. Sometimes pushing puzzle pieces together meant revealing a much darker picture than you'd expected.

"What do you mean? Of course it's good! We have a suspect- now all we have to do is find out who this guy is and pull him in for questioning," Logan smiled, but the expression dropped off his face when Remy continued.

"No, you idiot. I mean if this dude's killing everyone Roman loves, doesn't that make you a target?" Logan froze. "Roman left this guy for you, doesn't that put you on his hit list?"

Shit.

Virgil got home at exactly 5:30 pm every single day. Routines eased his anxiety, so he had settled into one. He got off work at 5, reached home by 5:30, and changed into his pajamas by 5:33.

The door was unlocked when he came home, and that was the first sign his routine would be broken today.

"Logan?" he called, setting his bag down where he always did and continuing through the house. Logan's bedroom door was standing wide open, but the lights were off. Logan never left without closing his door. "Logan? Dude?" No response.

Virgil was no stranger to anxiety, but something about this felt different. Something in the air was making it feel like all of the blood was being drained out of his body, making his hands shake at his sides and a pit form in his stomach.

He stepped into the bedroom, trying to tell himself he'd just been watching too many Buzzfeed Unsolved videos. That he was just being paranoid and making up ridiculous theories. That an unlocked door didn't mean he was in trouble.

Virgil switched on the lights, jerking his head around to look for a demon or intruder, anything.

There was nothing. See? Paranoi-

A gloved hand suddenly clawed its way over his mouth, a knife to his throat. He needed to scream, he needed to scream, and nothing was coming out.

Fight-

or flight-

or freeze.

But… the man wasn’t doing anything. There was a second where the loudest sound was Virgil’s heartbeat in his ears, and then the man spoke.

“You’re not Logan.” The words were clipped, cool, but there was an edge to them as sharp as the knife at Virgil’s throat. The man stayed still behind him, steady against Virgil’s increasingly fast breaths. Was this a mugging? Was this how muggings were supposed to go? Did robbers usually know the names of the people they were stealing from? Did they hold knives to people’s necks and then just stand there?

“Who are you?”

Virgil couldn't say anything. All of the words in his head were swamped together, getting caught in his throat and leaving him unable to make anything but a choked noise in reply.

"Answer. Me,” he growled low into his ear, tightening his grip on Virgil so hard he almost wondered if he was going to crack a bone before Virgil could say anything...

"V- Virgil." The name sounded wrong on his own tongue, like everything in his body was telling him not to say a word.

The man pulled him against his chest, walking slowly with him over to the bed.

"Hello, Virgil." He drawled out the name, testing how it sounded. Virgil still couldn't see his face, but he could hear the smirk in his voice. "Come on, Virgil, be nice, say hello back to me!" He pressed the knife a little harder before he moving his hand down to let Virgil speak.

"H- hi…" he forced out, breathing hard. The guy smelled like he'd been drinking and like he used too much cologne. Tears started to run down his face, and Virgil thanked all the gods he didn't believe in that Logan and Patton were out of the house.

"Is this where good old Detective Logan lives?" the man asked, far too casually for the fact that he was holding Virgil at knifepoint. Mindful of the knife at his throat, Virgil shook his head no. If he couldn't save himself, he could at least give Logan a chance.

The man pulled his hair back, pressing the knife against his neck harder until it began to draw blood. "WRONG ANSWER!" he shrieked. "Would you like to try lying to me again?"

Virgil desperately tried to shake his head without slitting his own throat, barely containing a plea for the man to just stop.

"Good boy!" he smiled, voice suddenly back to smooth and casual. The pressure against Virgil's neck eased, but the man's hand kept him in place. "Now… Does. Detective. Logan. Live. Here," he growled into his ear. Virgil nodded, all thoughts of bravery from before escaping his mind as he began to cry harder. He felt like he was going to puke, and he was barely getting in enough air. But despite all that, he did his best to stay quiet for the man with the knife.

"Even though you're a lying little bitch," he snarled, running a hand through Virgil's hair and making him tremble even harder, "I think I like you. So let's make this as painless as possible, hmm?" He reached into his bag, pulling out something Virgil couldn't see. For a split second, Virgil wondered what it could be, but he got his answer soon enough.

The man leaned in slowly, and it took everything in Virgil not to pull away from the sensation of his breath against his neck. He kissed the spot slowly, holding Virgil’s trembling body against his like he wanted to draw this out as long as possible.

The man paused as he pulled back. He looked with satisfaction at the spot he had kissed, now slightly red but not bad enough to bruise- and used it as a target, plunging a syringe deep into Virgil's neck.

Virgil cried out in pain, sobs shuddering through his body. It only took a moment before he realized he couldn't blink, couldn't even move his eyes. And then the numbness spread- first to his fingers, then his arms and legs, until it was clear the only thing keeping him in a sitting position was the hand at his back. And- god, was his throat closing up?

The man behind him shushed him softly. "There you go, Virgil, it's okay- all done, see?" he soothed, pulling out the needle and putting it back in his bag. The way he was speaking was horribly reminiscent of how Logan would hush Patton when giving him medicine or changing a diaper.

The man laid him down on the bed, gently running a hand through his hair, and through the black spots beginning to crowd the edges of his vision, Virgil finally got a good look at his face. Green eyes, crooked nose- the kind you'd get if you've had it broken a few times- and a bright red scar across one side of his face. There was no crazy thrill or adrenaline behind his eyes like Virgil might have expected. In fact, he looked perfectly calm.

That was somehow worse.

The man smiled down at him, clearly reveling in his panic. "Y'know, at first I came here for my good friend Detective Grey," he said, getting up and monologuing like an honest-to-god Disney villain. God, Virgil couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe- "But then you came in. I didn't expect lil ol Logan to have a roommate!" He strolled up to the dresser, where a framed picture of Logan holding Patton was proudly displayed.

"Or two, based on the decor…" He looked around, taking in the baby toys strewn across the floor, how half of Logan's room had been transformed into a nursery. He popped the picture out of the frame, folding it up and shoving it in his pocket. "I think I'd like to play with him a bit more… You gave me an idea, Virgil! I'm so proud!" Virgil's chest was burning, and he'd long since lost control of his body. But he was still awake, he was still aware, why couldn't this nightmare end-

The man began rummaging in his bag, and for a moment Virgil hopped it was a gun to finish him off. But instead he pulled out a bright gold mask with an eerie smile carved in.

"Why do you look so sad?!" he cooed, placing the mask on top of Virgil's face right as the black overtook his vision.

"Smile."

---

The murder in the dressing room taglist:

@cataclysm-al @theteenagetrickster @intrurality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality @nonbeenary-enbee @imbasicallyshakespear @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @incoherentfangirl @oofmood @nonbianary-pineapple @royalnerd829 @unicornlogansanders

#logince #thomas sanders #sander sides #blood #gore #murder #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #abusive deceit #deceit sanders #needles

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bi-cookie · 5 years ago

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“Strawberries & Cigarettes“

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Liam x Julia Sherwood

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : NSFW / cursing / +18 / Liam with a beard and desk breaking.

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.5k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲 : The crown prince deals with the aftermath of the royal scandal that erupted the court while dealing with a broken heart of his own.

— 𝐀/𝐍 : This fic takes place after two months of book 1 finale. Thank you so much @furiouscloddonutpeanut for literally being with me every step of the way 💓. And @pixelchoicest my nugget hoe sister 💕.

It’s been two months since the scandal erupted both of their lives. Not long ago she was America’s sweetheart that captured the heart of the Cordonian prince. Now she’s the shameless foreigner who brought dishonor to the royal family. a slut, a whore, a gold digger these are the few names the press choose for her at least these are the nice ones .

Liam resided to his study locking himself up continuing on his duties as usual. His heart broke with each passing day every minute, second without her was a complete and utter torture.

Sure physically he was alive and kicking but emotionally he was gone from this world, for how can he ever be whole again without his Queen.

Meanwhile Julia was back in New York busting tables and saving up tips hustling her way through life mending a broken heart of her own.

[ Sunday morning - 6:30 am - Julia’s place ]

‘Buzzz buzzz’

the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand woke Julia up from her slumber, she picked up the phone without looking, struggling to open her eyes she answered

“H-ello.“ she yawned

“Sherwood” a husky voice called out from the other end of the line

“DARKE? Wha- what are you doing calling me on a Sunday this early ? is everything alright , oh god did something happen to Liam is he—“

Clutching her hand to her beating heart she got out of bed awaiting his answer

“Woaah calm down Sherwood , Liam is alright— for the most part“

Drake trailed off

“He’s—oh god he’s a huge mess without you. he keeps locking himself up in his study refusing to eat or to talk to anyone, I’m not sure he’s producing oxygen at this point. I don’t know what to do Sherwood none of us do”

The line went silent for a moment.

But then . . .

“I’ll be on a the first flight to Cordonia.”

[ Sunday Afternoon - 4:45 pm - The crown Prince’s Study ]

A light knock echoed through his majesty’s study but the crown prince couldn’t be bother to answer.

a gush of wind crept into the room as a familiar figure stepped inside.

without looking up from the stack of documents he was signing off Liam dismissed the figure with a wave of his hand as if to say I’m busy at the moment.

“Liam . .“

His entire body froze unable to move at that moment. Dear god that voice he knew that voice too well, it’s .... it’s the voice of his angle, his saving grace , his Queen Liam looked up hands shaking, eyes tearing up meeting hers. The pen he was holding was now laying on the cold marble floor.

Closing the door shut behind her she ran into his arms hugging him so tightly like her life depended on it. Liam held her so close fearing that she might disappear at any given moment, fearing that she’s merely but a dream a very beautiful one.

After what felt like forever they let go of eachother eyes locked on one another, Julia reached for his stubble covered cheek cupping it in her hands brushing her thumb against the facial hair.

“oh my, what has the world done to you my love ?“

“J-Julia .. “ he stuttered her name through muffled sobs and heart skipped a beat at hearing his voice for the first time in two months. He couldn’t contain his emotions any longer. He finally broke after holding it all in for so long.

The hurt , the pain , the agony all came crashing down. his wounds won’t heal just like hers didn’t she knew that much.

“Shhh , it’s gonna be alright I’m here now”

Rubbing his back to comfort him, Liam buried his head in her shoulder seeking shelter from the cruel world that broke him.

After a few long moments he broke the embrace

“Wait - what are you doing here ? Someone could see you. they’ll talk about you again and -“ she cut him right off putting one finger on his lips

“Let them talk Liam it’s not like there’s not much to be said the damage has been done. Besides I don’t care about anyone or what they say I care about you When Drake called this morning I-“

“Wait, Drake called you ?”

“Yes, he said you’ve been locking yourself up in your study since I left, he also said that you haven’t been yourself for quite sometime now. What’s going on ?talk to me Liam ?”

“ I - I don’t know Julia I’m a mess without you , I can’t even go a second without you crossing my mind , you consume me my thoughts , my heart , my soul all of me.”

He pulled away from her walking towards the window looking out the Royal garden

“But I understand that you must go, I’ve caused you enough pain that’ll last a lifetime and I can begin to describe how truly sorry I am for what happened if I had known I would’ve-“ his hands formed into fists punching the wall in a fit of rage.

Taking a step forward she wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him close, gently hugging him. Despite his pain, his heart fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. Her touch made the room warmer somehow. In her embrace the world stopped still on its axis. There was no time, no wind, no rain. Liam’s mind was at peace. This was the love he’d waited for, yearned for and prayed for.

“You don’t need to apology for anything , it’s not your fault . Besides if I get the chance to do it all again I would change nothing because all that pain has led me to you”.

“My Julia I truly don’t deserve you.”

“It is I who don’t deserve you Liam , you are a kind hearted soul that’s too damn good for this world “

She turned him around to face her reaching for his hand spraying small kisses on his bruised knuckle

“I . . Will . . Forever . . Be . . Yours . . Liam.”

Their eyes lock in one electrifying moment, and any trace of self control that he had was thrown out the window.

His want for her becoming unbearable as he reached over to cup her face brushing a stray of her raven hair aside taking the sight of her for the first time since she stepped into the room. Then suddenly his soft lips pressed against hers with a hum of desire, longing, and pain.

One of her hands running through his messy blonde hair, the soft strands surrounding her small fingers. The other hand slowly trails up his chest, her fingers splayed across the white material.

Smiling into the kiss her thumbs moved to trace against his cheekbones

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, my love.”

Liam effortlessly picks Julia up pressing her against the wall of his study. He trails passionate kisses along her jaw, his mouth dropping over her throat and down her collarbone to the valley between her breasts.

“Tell me, My Queen, what do you want.”

“You.”

He would never know how one simple word could hold some much love and devotion, but it did, and it always would.

He leaned off of her slightly, looping his arm around her back, then slowly sliding down to her thighs.

Lifting her up and walking to his oak desk.

He gently sat her down, then with a smirk swept all his paper off the desk. Papers of importance, but not as important as her.

Liam quickly ripped-off the piece of garment that kept him from his queen tossing it on the ground.

He then started sprinkling feather-like kisses on her abdomen causing her back to arched, his tongue was sucking on her sensitive skin setting her ablaze with each touch. as his right hand gripping her thigh, pushing her skirt up until it sits bunched around her hips.

Hands sliding up and down her thigh, he kisses down her stomach until his teeth grab the edge of the lace material of her panties tugging the garment down slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Heart beating so fast it could power a whole city shivers ran up and down her spine with each touch. As he pulls her underwear all the way off, tossing them aside.

And without a warning he shoved his fingers inside of her, three at once pumping and stretching her. Another loud moan spills out of her and fills the room. Julia’s breathing grows harsh and unsteady as he fucks her with his fingers, her walls already beginning to contract around him and the ache inside of her builds up all the way to her belly. He thumbs at her clit and pulls his fingers free from her making her whine at the loss.

Liam’s fingers are wet against her thigh as he grips her closer to him with a mischievous smirk on his face he kneels down kissing her pelvis his stubble scratching her smooth skin.

“Your stubble tickles.”

she smiles at him not so innocently.

He bit at the sensitive skin of her thigh even harder looking up meeting her fiery gaze.

“Tell me, Does it turn my Queen on ?”

“Oh God, Yes.”

“Then let’s put it to good use shall we ?”

Their eyes locked. as he inched towards her center, his beard prickling her thighs when his mouth finally made contact.

The rough stubble combined with his smooth tongue twirling and sucking at her core made her go insane with pleasure, good god the wonders he could do with that mouth of his.

The electrifying sensation that was coursing through her was too much, she bursted out into a million pieces right there arching her back on the wooden desk yelling his name for the entire kingdom to hear and not giving a damn about it.

“You taste even sweeter than I remember, my Queen”

he licked off her juices sucking his fingers tasting her once more.

As she came down form her high Julia sat up pulling Liam closer kissing him hard, tugging at his clothes

“I believe your too dressed for the occasion, Your Majesty”

“Hmm. and what do you suggest we do about that, My love ?”

He smirked biting her lower lip.

She quickly disposed of his clothes tearing them up to shreds before throwing them somewhere on the messy floor.

She splayed her hands up and down on his chiseled chest Casing every muscles in his body to contract at her touch.

“Tell me ... “ she whispered as her splayed hands traveled all the way down to his pelvis , until she reached her desired destination. She grabbed at his throbbing bulge feeling his hardness already forming in her hands as she applied pressure to it even more.

“What does his royal highness wishes me to do ?”

At this point Liam couldn’t even form thoughts let alone speak. His right hand gripped her thigh in order to keep her wetness close to his hardness yearning for the contact as his left arm held her in the place he wanted.

Julia didn’t need him to say anything she already knew what he wanted and she was more than happy to oblige.

Almost immediately she started to massage his scalp with one hand as her other one tugged his boxers down, his hard length springing free from it’s confines. she began stroking him, slowly, taking her time. While keeping her eyes fixated on his face, watching each and every reaction. She loved the fact that she has complete control over him. He's at her mercy. She wanted to Taste him, savor him, love him and so she did with each stroke he was a trembling mess in her hands.

His head fell back and he moaned loudly, as she took him all in her mouth. She bobbled her head up and down his cock Feeling it stiffen With every move between her cheeks.

Liam couldn’t hold it in anymore, he has to feel her. Consequences be damned.

He pulled her up sitting her back on the desk pushing her legs wide open as his tip rubbed against her dripping entrance teasing her. He took the opportunity to pin her arms up and in one smooth push he entered her.

The tight, wet feel of her causes him to groan loud turning her on even more. He lifted her leg over his shoulder and fucked into her, hard.

They both groaned. Julia grabbed his shoulders to steady herself, taking in the feeling of every single inch of him inside her.

She lifted her pelvis with each thrust intent on meeting his own and taking her own pleasure. His cock plunged deeper, messaging the sweet, sensitive spot inside of her.

“Dear god, Liam.” She called, her mouth opening as she felt him hit all the right places.

“Yes, my love ...” He grabbed her butt, helping her up and down.

He was high on her and he could never get enough.

With each thrust a thrill was sent up and down her spine as her stomach grew taut with the impending orgasm. Liam’s own breath is as labored as hers, he watched her flush as her breasts bounced lightly from the force of him. He dragged a hand across her stomach and cupped her breast, pinching her nipple until she moaned and whimpered.

His name never leaving her lips.

He tilted his head back and let out a loud groan as he felt her tighten around him. His hand on her hip was bruisingly tight and she knew damn well she’ll have plenty of bruises to remember him by but she didn’t mind it one bit.

He rammed into her until there was nothing left.

She came undone right then and there in his arms, Her body trembling with pleasure.

It only took Liam a few moments to follow right after her. He muffled a scream of her name as he crashed and bit on her shoulder.

Their ragged breaths and pleasure cries filled up the room as they held each other for a couple of minutes, catching their heartbeats and slowly coming down from their highs.

Liam gently picked Julia up and got her scattered clothes off the floor. dressing her slowly zipping up her skirt back on. As he was getting dressed she turned around letting out a sigh

“What now Liam ?“ she asked with a worried look on her face.

“I don’t know, but we hope for the future. At this very moment you are mine and I am yours and there’s nothing that can keep us apart. Know that I love you with every waking bone in my body, I won’t make the same mistake and let you go again. I will fight for you this time, you are not an obligation Julia, you are my forever.”

He walked up to her slowly and pulling her closer to him wrapping his arms around her. His embrace was warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around her frail body. The world around her seemed to melt away as she squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.

#choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #play choices #the royal romance #trr #king liam #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #cookie writes #trr fic #liam x mc #liam rys #n*fw #smut

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hostgalli19 · 5 years ago

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Markiplier Fluffy Collection Chapter 4: Poisoned - Part 1

Chapter Summary: Matthew was poisoned by something and isn’t doing well.

Note: Hello every one, here’s the fourth chapter. This was meant to be the third chapter but I finished Shock Collar before I finished this one.

Length: 2,078 words (3 pages)

Tag List: @wilfordwarfstacheisbae, @matt10nt, @scuttling-thoughtfully, @devon-rever-860, @lamiasluck

Link on Ao3

Date: 06/12/19 – 22/12/19 Time: 1:05 pm – 4:24 pm

Matthew gagged almost immediately after he started drinking his coffee. It was incredibly bitter. He wanted to tip it down the drain but drank the entire cup even though he knew he shouldn’t. He had probably made it too strong. The horrible bitter after taste didn’t go away. It only seemed to get stronger of the following 8 hours.

He felt horrible but continued to make videos, he knew he should rest but it felt like something was forcing him to keep moving. By the time he collapsed from exhaustion, he was crying, moving hurt and he had thrown up at least four times, he couldn't keep anything down.

Tyler and Ethan had asked if he was alright when they saw him rush to the bathroom. He wanted to tell them what was wrong but found he just couldn’t. They shrugged it off, not bothering to check if Matthew was actually alright. They knew he had a tendency to lie about his health and yet still took his word that he was alright without check to make sure.

Matthew groaned when he felt his bed disappear from under and he landed hard on the manor cold kitchen floor, his head slamming against the tiles, making his head hurt even more. He opened his eyes when he heard someone rushing over to him. All he could see were legs before he was turned onto his back, he groaned and tried to curl into a ball.

His stomach hurt and the next thing he knew he was standing and leaning over to the skin to throw up yet again. His arms were only barely able to hold his weight. He flinched when he felt a cool hand pressed against his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. If he felt nice and he wanted it to continue. Tears dripped down his face as he gagged again, there was nothing in his stomach.

He went limp when arms wrapped around him, pulling him away from the sink, he was unable to hold himself up anymore. Eric was alarmed when Matthew appeared in the kitchen looked pale and shaky. Yancy stared at his little brother wondering who the man was and why Eric looked so panicked when he threw up in the sink. Eric carefully rubbed the man's back, pulling him away from the sink and supporting his weight when he went limp.

Eric somehow managing to stay upright and not stumble. Yancy had known his brother had gotten stronger but he hadn’t thought Eric would be able to hold up someone’s dead weight. The man was a little shorter than Eric and looked to be very heavy and yet Eric had no problem holding him up. Eric had changed a great deal since he was 6 years old, but that was too expected.

Reynolds had sent him updates on Eric and the rest of his “brothers” through letters. He had occasionally included letters. Something he had learned to hid in the loose bricks behind his bed. It was the place he knew the Warden or his Guards would look. He had made sure to hid it perfectly, so those letters and pictures where never found.

Something he had learned go hid in the loose bricks behind his bed. It was the place he knew the Warden or his Guards would look. He had made sure to hid it perfectly, so those letters and pictures where never found. He took the letters with him when he left making sure whoever was in his cell next could find the place and the guards wouldn't. He didn't know what the Warden or the guards would have done if they had found the lettered and pictures, but he knew it wouldn't be anything good.

He took the letters with him when he left, making sure whoever was in his cell next could find the place and the guards wouldn’t. He didn’t know what the Warden or the Guards would have done if they had found the letters and pictures but he knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Yancy watched as Eric easily picked the man up and dashed out the kitchen.

Instead of going to Dr Iplier’s office as Yancy expected he ran straight past it, stopping for a few seconds before using his foot to kick the door to the meeting room open, Yancy belatedly remembered it was the meeting room and couldn’t help but feel nervous. Dark reminded him a little too much of the Warden, it was clear he was the one in charge and Yancy really didn’t know the demon would do to him if Yancy went against his rules.

“Doc, we have a problem?” Eric yelled as he kicked the door open, knowing he wouldn’t he heard over Bim and Ed’s yelling otherwise. Things always got a tad heated and someone always ended up yelling. Ben, Host, Will, Ben, Dark, Ed, Bim and Dr Iplier fell silent when Eric stepped into the room with Matthew, Yancy quickly following clearly nervous. Dr Iplier was on his feet and over to Eric as soon as the shock wore off.

“What the hell happened?” Dr Iplier demanded, Matthew looked horrible, pale and shaky and was staring at Edward with a glazed look in his eyes. He was running a fever; how high Edward had no idea. He would have to in his office in order to run some tests to find out what was wrong with their creator but didn’t want to wait. He looked up when he heard a whining sound.

Ben looked distressed, his logo and eyes had turned into a multi-coloured flickering wheel of blue, green, red and yellow which only ever happened when one of the units comprising Google was experiencing too much stimulation or they were stressed and couldn’t handle it. Ben appeared to be trying to figure something out. It was Dr Iplier remember Google kept a cursory eye on their vitals so he could prevent any situation from becoming dangerous.

He couldn’t help but wonder had panicked Ben enough to make merging back into Google something he thought necessary. It didn’t happen very often though it had been happening more since Beta and his brothers had arrived in the manor.

"Google, what's the matter?" Dr Iplier questioned, turning his attention to the blue unit. Google turned to look at him and shear panic in his eyes was disconcerting. It took him a lot to phase Google; he had seen a lot, but it did on occasion happen and it left them feeling cold after because it would have to be serious to affect the supercomputer.

Dr Iplier questioned, Google looked at him and the sheer panic in his eyes was disconcerting. It took a lot to phase Google; he had seen a lot but it did, happen on occasion and it left them feeling cold after because it would have to be serious to affect the supercomputer. Google didn’t answer, just scanned Matthew, his face blank of any emotion.

Google didn’t reply, just scanned Matthew, his face of any emotion. He was sitting stiffy in his chair which wasn’t … unusual but Dr Iplier knew he was usually more relaxed than that. Ben knew the moment Matthew appeared in the kitchen, his aura curled tightly him, ready to protect him should anyone touch him which it never did, there was no need for it. Matthew was safe in the manor.

Ben knew something was wrong the moment Matthew appeared in the kitchen, his aura curled tightly around him, ready to protect him should anyone touch him, which never happened. Matthew knew he was safe in the manor. He scanned Matthew as soon as Eric kicked the meeting room door open (a habit he had always had according to Yancy, one that had come back after Google had redesigned his prosthetic’s of which he had two pairs).

He scanned Matthew as soon as Eric kicked the meeting room door open (a habit he had always had according to Yancy, one that had come back after Google had redesigned his prosthetic’s. He now had two pairs. His blades and normal prosthetic’s that looked like perfectly normal legs). He had to get Dark to time warp his workshop in order to work out all the kinks before he gave Eric his two new prosthetics’.

Google had asked Dark to time warp his workshop, so he had more time to work out the kinks and bugs with Eric’s new prosthetic’s. Ben had heard the frustrated yells from Eric’s room in the morning or the middle of the night or when he overbalanced. It wasn’t easy for him to put his prosthetic’s on or take them off quickly. Eric had lit up a Christmas tree when Ben had given him his new prosthetic’s.

Ben had heard the frustrated yells from Eric’s room in the morning and the middle of the night or whenever he overbalanced. It wasn’t easy for him to put his prosthetic’s on quickly or take them off for that matter. Oliver had tested them out as he was the one that was closest to Eric in height and weight being made of the lightest material, it had taken a lot of trial and error to get them correct but they had finally managed.

They had noticed a change in his behaviour and realised just how many of his mannerism was dictated by his duct tape wrapped prosthetics. It had gotten a little better after Google had fixed his blades so they weren’t held together with just duct tape but it hadn’t been permanent and they could break if he moved too quickly. Due to the fact they had been held together with duct tape it had caused Eric to walk and hold himself in a certain way.

Eric had lit up like a Christmas tree when Ben had given him his new blades and prosthetic’s. They had noticed a change in his behaviour and soon realised just how much of his mannerism was dictated by his duct-taped wrapped prosthetics. It had gotten a little better after Google had fixed his blades so they weren’t held together with just duct tape but it hadn’t been permanent and they could break if he moved too quickly.

He had gotten so used to compensating for the lack of balance he had and the fact if he moved to much they would break. It took Eric the better part of six months to get used to having stable prosthetic’s again and not having to worry about him falling apart if he moved wrong (he had been wearing his old prosthetics’ the day Yancy and Illinois had arrived as his new ones had been in to fix some minor connection problems)

They had noticed Eric started to stand straighter and wasn’t always so shy. He was surprisingly tall when he stopped hunching and looked very muscular. His whole demeanour had changed, there were times he was still shy and nervous, but he seemed more confident overall. The first time they had seen him kick a door open when his hands were full like it was the most natural thing in the world was a little jarring.

“There is so-mething wrong with him with MaSter. He has a high fever,” Google replied, his voice and face emotionless and robotic, the only indication something was wrong with him was the lack of use of Matthew’s name. He only ever called “Master” when he distressed, upset or angry. It was alarming when it did happen because he was far more protective of their creator and tended to become violent if he felt any of them were threatening Matthew in any way.

Dr Iplier shared a concerned look with Dark, Wilford looked panicked not that the Doctor could blame the pink-haired show host, he was the closets to their creator and like Google would do anything to protect Matthew, his aura was addictive, particularly if had been a long time since he had last visited.

They loved him a great deal and would do whatever they could to get him to relax. He often overworked himself and never took the time to relax. The only time he ever truly relaxed was when he was forcibly pulled to the manor by Dark’s aura.

Wilford wanted to comfort Matthew but didn’t want to hurt him.

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

Note: Thank you for reading, please remember to comment, reblog and like. It means a lot. Link to my Discord: https://discord.gg/Cnq28g

#Darkiplier #markiplier #Wilford Warfstache #dr iplier #googleiplier #fluffy angst #eric derekson #ahwm yancy #reynolds #My Ao3 Stories #my discord

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softspokentulip · 5 years ago

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circadian darling

chae hyungwon x gender neutral!reader

fluff, speckles of angst; “soulmate au where soulmate marks can manifest in various ways: from first words to flower blooms, anything can guide you to your soulmate - the only other person in the world whose mark matches your own perfectly. these marks can be clear as day, or they can be much more subtle.

however, in rare cases, where the mark might be too subtle, it is possible to have two kinds of marks, one of which manifests later in life. this is generally seen in cases where one type of mark isn’t enough to find your soulmate.

you are one such case. (you just don’t know it.)”

word count: 7926

It is… 3:24 AM.

You never intend to pull all-nighters. Some nights it’s harder to ignore the feeling of wakefulness than others. Like tonight, which finds your body exhausted from a long day, your eyes struggling to keep open, but your mind unable to just shut up.

This is how it’s been your entire life. You’ve long since given up on finding ways to make yourself fall asleep: that one trick people swear up and down works like a charm has, at most, made you yawn. You’ve had enough warm milk and soothing teas to last you a lifetime. Playlist after playlist of calming music, rain audio, and even hypnosis videos do nothing for you. On nights like these, it’s easier (and less stressful) to wait for dawn, go about your daily business, and take a nap if you can while the sun watches over you.

And you hate it.

You hate that falling into bed is a gamble every night of whether you’ll get some rest. You hate the fatigue that haunts you most days; you hate the sympathy from friends, family, and strangers alike. They already pity you enough when they find out you’re markless - can’t you get a break from being poor (y/n)?

3:26 AM glows bright red against your skin.

Evidently not.

A paper cup is set down in front of your face. “Rough night again?”

You lift your head from where it rests atop your arms, tired gaze rising to settle on a familiar - sympathetic - face. Instead of answering, you grab the cup and bring it to your lips. The bitterness burns your tongue, jolting you alert. Nyx cringes from where she stands beside the table, as if she’d taken the sip herself. “Jesus, how do you drink that crap?”

A chuckle bubbles out of you, sounds as resigned as you feel. “It wakes me up fast.”

“You know, with creamer wakes you up just as quickly. Though, I guess the taste probably helps.” She nods to herself as you take another swig, the taste less shocking with each swallow. “Well, it’s your taste buds anyway, not mine.”

You place the half-drained cup back down in front of you, and she looks like she wants to say something. “It’s not too bad once you get used to it,” you interrupt. “The first sip is the worst. Shouldn’t you be working?” Sure enough, glancing towards the counter grants you the sight of one of her coworkers impatiently watching your table. They look about ready to drag her back. She must follow your gaze because you hear her swear under her breath before brushing off her apron.

“Right. Just, before I forget-” she rests a hand on your shoulder, and the ink sheep on her wrist blinks its eyes at you. You distantly observe that its outline is a lighter shade of black than usual. Huh. “Are you gonna be okay for the concert? If you end up feeling too tired that day, we don’t have to go.” The sheep’s head droops at her words, and a quick peek at her expression shows a hint of resignation. And you’re not a fool; you can take a hint.

So you smile and shake your head. “I’ll be fine. You’ve been looking forward to seeing Monsta X for months. I can handle being a little drowsy.”

Nyx doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but the coworker from before calls out her name and she takes a step back. “Alright. But please, if it gets worse, go see a doctor!” Her shout draws a few curious eyes, and you can see the red on her cheeks even from here. You roll your eyes, but hold your thumb up nonetheless. She smiles, satisfied, before turning and rushing behind the counter.

You smile to yourself, too. You’re happy knowing she’ll be meeting her soulmate soon.

Then your attention returns to your coffee and you frown.

The things you have to do just to stay awake.

The young child, whose scraped knee has been long forgotten, stares at you with wide eyes, equal parts curious and nervous. “Um,” his voice comes out small, but you’ve grown used to it by now. “I’m sorry you don’t have a soulmate.”

And who said kids can’t be cruel? Still, you know his heart is in a good place - plus older people have said about the same much crueler. The sting to your heart is laughably ignorable. “It’s okay, Charlie. I don’t mind it. I can focus on myself, and it’s not as if I can’t be loved. I have my friends and my family, right?.” You swipe the alcohol pad across the bleeding scrape and immediately blow cool against it when he whines.

“Mhm.” He responds, though he keeps staring at your hands. With a fond smile, you show him a selection of band-aids and happily apply the Hello Kitty one he chooses over his knees. Charlie finally starts again when you gesture that he’s good as new, and that he can go rejoin his friends. “Can I draw on you? Maybe your soulmate is lost and needs help finding you!”

That makes your heart ache. Kid, I’ve tried that all my life. But he’s only six years old, he doesn’t understand that this is final yet, so you smile instead. “Of course. Let’s go find a marker.”

Your voice echoes hollow, but he doesn’t seem to notice past his glee.

It is 6:15 PM when something.. wet? scrawls across the skin of your left forearm.

The wind from your car’s air conditioner rolls over whatever it is, cooling it as soon as it drags across you, and, rightfully alarmed, you let out a confused hm and turn away from your phone call to inspect it.

And you swear your heart stops beating.

“What is it?” Nyx’s voice reaches through the static, but you don’t hear her.

Because, just inches from the smiling red heart Charlie had drawn on your palm earlier today, in bold black ink and unfamiliar handwriting, - and an entirely different language - is something you definitely did not write.

안녕하세요?

“(y/n)? Everything alright?”

Oh fuck that feels weird, the ink starts shifting on its own; the letters reshaping themselves, and the closest you can describe the sensation is the feeling of fingertips trailing along your arms so gently, as if in awe of you. And when the feeling subsides, when the new letters settle against your skin, your mind draws a blank.

Hello?

“I,” you struggle to be clear and concise, to talk in something louder than a whisper. You can hardly hear yourself, you doubt Nyx can. “I’m coming over.”

“Now?!”

“Now.”

If you flinched even the smallest bit, you could smack her in the forehead with how close Nyx is holding your arm to her face.

(And the only reason the temptation isn’t there is because you’re preoccupied wondering what the hell is going on.)

Her eyes are so wide, you would worry about them rolling right out of her head if you weren’t just as wide-eyed, fighting back years’ worth of pent-up tears threatening to make an appearance.

“Why do I recognise this?” She mumbles.

“I did not write this my-”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” She hurries to elaborate, looking up at you with teary eyes of her own. Her grip tightens around your wrist and elbow, and she gives your arm a small shake. “I believe you, (y/n). But this - this is fucking weird. Why did your soul mark develop now, instead of all those years ago? How? I don’t.. This doesn’t make any sense.” The uncertainty in her voice clenches your heart until it feels like it’ll shatter apart. You pull your arm free from her grip and hold it against your chest, as if cradling the mark.

“I don’t know either! If you haven’t noticed, neither of us is majoring in soul studies!”

Nyx deflates at your frustration, sheepishness clear in the tremble of her lips. You take a deep breath, a moment to wipe at your still unshed tears, and the dark letters catch your attention. It’s almost funny, how a single word could turn your world upside down. With a shuddering sigh, you bring your arm to your lips and kiss the message. It tastes of hope. “Please be real,” you whisper, voice muffled against the ink.

Your friend hops to her feet abruptly, quickly stealing your attention back. There’s an excited fire in her eyes. “We have to go see a soul mark analyser! They’ll probably know what’s going on, right?” A chill settles in your bones, old and too familiar. You remember all too well your last experience with an analyser - which had started just as everyone else’s but ended with no good news, with none of the comforts you had been promised. You still remember the way your mother had wept as she cradled you, but you don’t know if she’d been trying to protect you or herself from the truth. You remember the unique and mortifying experience of giving your good friend the news in class the next day, how she hadn’t quite understood the first time, just like you hadn’t.

Your discomfort must be obvious, or maybe Nyx knows you well, because she takes your hand and gives a reassuring squeeze. “We don’t have to go.” But you should. “I won’t let you go alone, but we don’t have to go at all.” You should.

A hush falls over the room as she waits for your answer. For a few seconds, you seriously consider declining. You don’t want to get your hopes up only for a soulmate - your soulmate - to be ripped away from you again. It had been easier to come to terms with it because your hopes had been crushed so young, you could spend your developing years accepting it. If it happens again, will the pain be too fresh to heal from?

But then you look back at your mark, at the questioning greeting on your arm, and you remember the ghost of a lover’s touch, the tingling warmth that had started small but wasted no time encompassing your entire being. Your heart leaps, soars through cloud nine and all the other clouds around it, and you have to make sure this is real.

“We’ll go.”

It is 1:43 AM, as you scroll through stories on your phone, that you realize you never tried to respond.

How easily you forget the fatigue weighing you down. Careful not to make too much noise, you slip out of bed and find your way through the dark to Nyx’s writing desk, grabbing a pen before creeping out of her room.

You sit down in the hallway, right beside the bedroom door, and pull the cap off. You don’t let yourself think long, fully aware that you’ll fill yourself with doubt if you do.

Hello? Are you really there?

And you wait. You’d forgotten your phone inside, and you don’t want to risk waking her by going to get it, so you sit in silence, staring at the wall across from you. What’s a few minutes alone with your thoughts?

It feels like centuries crawling along, too slow. You almost want to cry; were you wrong? Did you truly not have a soulmate and had just gotten your hopes up? You’d heard stories of people exhibiting false soul marks, usually caused by a soul unable to accept the loss of their soulmate. Could the same happen to those who never had soulmates to begin with? Was your heart aching so deeply for a soulmate, even now? You thought you’d long since accepted the fact, so why was this happening to you?

Did you accept that? Yes, you’d brushed it aside, buried it, lived with it since you were eight years old. And of course you were devastated during your adolescent years, but you’d persevered. You were stronger now, weren’t you?

Another moment’s silence with no response saw you sighing as you rubbed the corners of your eyes and told yourself it was because of drowsiness. You were about ready to retreat to bed to force yourself to sleep, but then you felt it. The faint touch of a pen tip - not your own - pressing your skin. Without another thought, you focused on the new ink slowly drawing itself out on your arm. Syllables formed words you didn’t recognize, and once the writing stopped, they began to trace into new letters, which formed words you did.

Finally. You kept me waiting, darling.

Tears suddenly burst forth, drip-dripping onto your arm, and the words smear the tiniest bit. You scramble to pat yourself dry, staining your pajama shirt in the process, before hurrying to respond.

You’re real. I can’t believe you’re real. And you kiss your words, hoping they can somehow feel your lips.

A much shorter wait before new words bloom, feeling like a gentle brush of another’s lips. Of course I’m real. Why are you crying?

They’re happy tears. I didn’t think I had a soulmate. You take a deep breath. I think my soul missed you, even though I didn’t know you.

Three taps appear as miniscule dots on your skin, and you can’t help but laugh and wonder what they look like when they’re thinking.

I’ve always been here.

And I missed you too.

Exactly seven days later finds Nyx driving you to the clinic of one Dr. Valerie Luneiros, a soul mark analyser that works a town over - and the only one in the area who could fit you into their schedule so soon. You weren’t driving - at Nyx’s insistence: “You should be as stress free as possible.” Which was honestly a nice sentiment, one you were sure you’d appreciate.

Except you couldn’t possibly be more stressed out.

You’d been chatting pretty steadily with your soulmate for a few days after that first night. It had been a lot of fun, learning more about each other, establishing a comfortable dynamic. On more than one occasion, after discovering that anything that could be used to find one another would erase itself from your arms, you’d playfully tried to find ways to circumvent that. Naturally, none of them worked, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Being able to just talk and joke with someone in a way only you could was the most precious thing in this world to you.

(It should have worried you how quickly you’d grown attached, but again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind.)

But then, a few minutes after the clock struck 8 PM four days ago, you’d received a message: I’ll be away for a while. Good luck with the analysis.

And that had been the last response you’d gotten. At first, the silence wasn’t so bad. You still had a life to live, after all. Your days were too busy to feel impatient, and you spent your nights either resting fitfully or keeping your mind off the lack of messages with work and stories. When your patience had finally run out, during one night when you’d been unable to sleep and were uninterested in any of your usual distracting tasks, you’d written them a simple Hope everything is okay. And you would’ve been fine, even without a reply, but when it had promptly disappeared, anxiety lunged and wrapped around you like a serpent around its prey.

Was your soulmate all right? Were they safe? You tried not to worry too much, comforted yourself with the trust that they would explain their radio silence once they returned.

But four days is a lot of time to ruminate.

And on top of that, a soul analysis clinic was definitely the last place you ever wanted to set foot in. The scent of sterilization and marginally too-strong citrus was too fresh in your memory, made you nauseous at the mere thought. The first expression of pity ever directed at you was forever burned into your brain, a wound once covered now unveiled and festering. You could still feel the cracking of your little heart once you understood what you’d been told, once you understood why your mother was crying.

Thoughtlessly, you bring your fingertips to trail along your forearm, tracing the ghosts of letters long washed away.

The faint sensation of fingers stroking on the other side brought you calm for at least the rest of the car ride.

Dr. Luneiros’ clinic smells of hot chocolate.

And to give them more credit, Dr. Luneiros themself is incredibly patient throughout your very unhelpful and highly confused explanation of what’s going on. They nod calmly along, take down notes diligently, and offer you comforting smiles whenever you need to pause. And when they ask if you could go more in depth about your soul mark history, they make it clear you can say no. So despite the anxiety about being in a place like this, you’re grateful that Nyx suggested coming here in the first place.

But when they ask questions about your sleep schedule, - completely out of left field - you wonder for a moment if this is somehow an elaborate plan to get your possible insomnia problem checked out. Though when you glance Nyx’s way, ready to chew her out, she seems as confused as you feel. As you spill the details, - some of which has your friend gasping, like the time you’d spent three full days asleep - they jot down more notes and nod the more you share. They sort of resemble a bobblehead, actually!

Until they suddenly smile wide and let out an “I see,” When they set their pen down and rest their stare on you, there’s a shocking amount of joy in their eyes, the constellations on their right cheek pulsing a bright golden glow. “I know what’s going on.” They say so simply, as if those five words don’t knock you out of orbit and leave your mind struggling to wrap around the fact that this makes sense to someone.

“First of all, I’d like to apologize for the analyser that saw you when you were younger - and have a word with him. Every analyser knows no one is born without a soulmate. Though this kind of mark was discovered fairly recently, so I suppose I can understand how he missed the signs.” Dr. Luneiros stops themself from rambling on when they spot your confusion. “Right, anyway. (y/n), it’s not that you didn’t have a soulmate and now suddenly do. You’ve had one all your life; you just didn’t know how to look for them.”

Your heart leaps into your throat and settles, choking your voice when you finally manage to ask, “What?”

They nod, as if you’d said something to nod at. “As you know, soul marks can manifest in various forms, such as on your body, as physical objects, or even in your head.” And it’s your turn to nod, because you’ve known this since you could first remember anything. “Good. Well, they can also manifest so deeply within a person as an effect on one of their bodily functions.”

You’re connecting the dots - and Nyx must be too, because you see her through the corner of your eyes, staring at you with a gradually growing smile.

“It seems your soul mark is present in your circadian rhythm, and that you and your soulmate’s are currently unaligned. Which explains why your sleeping patterns are so irregular.”

Nyx lets out a cheer so loud and hugs you so tightly, you’d think it was her who the news was for. Still, you can’t dwell on it long because your stunned thoughts are screaming just as loudly. I’ve always had a soulmate. The realization fills your aching heart to the brim with relief, and you suddenly want nothing more than for your soulmate to be here with you already. You want to share this excitement with them, want to rejoice alongside them. Fuck, you want to see them in front of your own eyes, hold them with your own hands, kiss them until you run out of breath. Still, there is a lingering confusion that threatens to drown out your joy.

“If that’s the case, then how are we chatting back and forth now?” You hold up your now blank forearm. “I thought people could only have one soul mark.”

The analyser hums. “That’s usually true, yes. However, in special cases such as these, where the initial mark might be too difficult to follow, a second, clearer mark type manifests - generally an indeterminate but short amount of time before the soulmates are destined to meet.” They can barely finish getting the words out of their mouth before Nyx is screaming again and blurring your vision with how suddenly she shakes you.

“Does that mean (y/n) will meet their soulmate soon?!”

Oh, now you really feel lightheaded, and not just because of how much you’re being shaken.

Did you know we’re apparently destined to meet soon?

Washed away.

Is everything okay?

Washed away.

Please answer me.

Washed away.

You know I can see you erasing this, genius. Are you ignoring me?

Washed away after three minutes.

Are you not excited to meet me?

A short pause, before a dark cool line suddenly swipes along your forearm and washes away shortly after.

I am. My makeup artist is too - she wants to strangle you.

A response that draws a laugh out of you, tinged with relief and amusement.

Your makeup artist? Are you a model?

Something like that. You’ll know soon enough.

Oh, mysterious. It’s not illegal, is it? I don’t know how well that lifestyle would suit me.

Please stop writing on Mr. Hyungwon’s arm. You are making my job very difficult.

It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, but you don’t blink. You see fragments of what must be a name - their name - and rush to copy what you remember down on a nearby piece of paper. Maybe anything revealing would erase itself, but as you stare down at the name you’d written, you figure that if you remember it yourself, then it should be fine.

And you do remember parts of it. And it looks.. almost familiar.

When you go to write on your arm again, you see your previous conversation has been washed away. Hyuwon? Your question erases itself a second later.

Don’t make me laugh, darling, I’m supposed to sit still.

But close.

With each day that the concert crawls ever closer, sleep finds you easier than the night before. You feel better rested than you ever have. Your taste buds suffer less and less scalding black coffee, and you find yourself more attentive at your work - and throughout the rest of your daily tasks. Five days before the concert, when your outfit finally arrives (talk about a close call) and Nyx insists on coming over to see you model it, she’d sucked in a breath and covered her mouth with her hands, eyes glimmering with sudden tears, when she’d finally seen you since letting herself in. “I’ve never seen you so awake before!” she’d cried.

(Followed by: “And the outfit looks so good on you! You’re gonna turn so many heads, but none of them are gonna be able to do anything about it!”)

The universe, as it turns out, can be as blatantly obvious as it can be painstakingly subtle. Your soulmate is closer to you than ever before, and the likelihood of you meeting them the day of the concert is high. They must be attending from a different country - South Korea, if you had to guess. After all, you’ve determined that Korean is the language your soulmate is originally writing in before the mark translates it.

And you feel a kind of excitement you haven’t felt in years, a rush of butterflies sweeping through your ribcage, wings beating harshly enough to crack bones. You swear your heart swells in size when you so much as think about your soulmate, drumming in harmony with the butterfly wings. It feels like your body has purged itself of a suffocating decay you didn’t know had taken hold, and you’re finally breathing through uncorrupted lungs for the first time. Flames eat away at thorns overgrown but make no moves to burn you, leaving a trail of soft kisses in its wake instead.

It is… so fucking cheesy.

But you can’t find a single part of you that minds. You think this must be what love is, and you hope your soulmate feels it too.

It is, without a doubt, the most expensive hotel lobby you’ve ever been in.

“And you’re certain this is the right place?”

“I’m sure. I’m - he said it would be fancy, but.. God, I feel like we should’ve brought a present.” She rubs over the mark on her wrist, a nervous habit formed years ago, and it brings your attention to two things: one, the sheep is no longer a sheep, but a wolf almost done shedding its disguise, and two, the outline is now almost a stark white. The imagery is.. definitely concerning, but you figure the universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to deem people soulmates that would hurt each other. That doesn’t sit right, and soulmate or not, if the person on the other side of Nyx’s connection even thinks about trying anything, you’re not afraid of setting them and the universe straight.

Anyway, you shift your focus to gauging her reaction. She seems seconds away from exploding, but the fuse is lit with both awe and insecurity, so you’re unsure which will set her off first. “We’re fine, Nyx. Let’s just find our room, okay?” When she nods, you head towards the grand staircase in the center of the room, your bags having been taken care of by an actual bellhop. You can’t help but awe at the chandelier casting an elegant golden light, shadows dancing in the corners of the lobby and adjacent halls. Carefully polished marble floor peeks out from the edges of the intricately patterned scarlet carpet, like you’re a movie star attending a high class debut. You absolutely don’t want to find out how much it costs to stay for the two days and nights her friend had paid for. Nyx had insisted it’d be all right to share, apparently, which led you to believe he’d been willing to pay that time for two rooms. “I couldn’t dream of affording this, holy shit.”

“Please don’t remind me,” she almost whimpered. “I might throw up on all this rich stuff, and then we’d really be in trouble.” Her thumb traced over her mark, and the wolf followed her touch. “I’ll talk to him once we get to our room.”

“Right. Let’s just focus on getting situated.”

That night, at about 10:15 PM, despite how tired you are (and the refreshing lack of underlying wakefulness), you manage to write to them.

So.

So?

I think we’re going to meet tomorrow.

Is there something special about tomorrow?

Kind of. And I have an idea I need to fly by you.

I’m listening, darling.

I want to draw something on my cheek. Something only we would understand.

Interesting. And I assume you want to keep it on all day? Meaning that so will I.

Right. Are you in?

Definitely. I’ll find you tomorrow.

Not if I find you first ♥

Shit, that sounded creepy.

Just a little hahaha

Nyx won’t stop inspecting your face, and it’s honestly making you feel more unsure about the whole idea than you’d like to be.

“Why did you write that?”

You hum, trying to appear calmer than you feel. “For fun.” A silence stretches between you - and glancing at her through the reflection shows you her furrowed eyebrows and small pout. “What, you’ve made worse jokes.” Her response is an instant huff as she crossed her arms over her chest, and there’s a huge visual contrast between her all-dark and mature outfit and the bratty puff of her cheeks. The urge to pinch those cheeks grows, but you doubt she’d appreciate that, so you stay your hand.

“Whatever, my jokes are great.” There’s a playful whine in her voice, and you know she’s not taking the conversation seriously. “Now come on, we have to get there soon if we want to check out the merch! Oh, and to see if there’s any fun little events they have planned!” Her “sour mood” brightens in seconds, and she’s rushing to make sure everything is ready to go. Your gaze returns to your reflection, the fondness in your eyes when you stare at your handiwork not alarming you as much as it would’ve a few weeks ago. Carefully written out in black face paint, you have your way to identify your soulmate.

Hyuwon.

On the drive to the concert hall, words slowly form on your arm that brings laughter to your lips.

I should’ve expected this. You’re ridiculous, darling.

I can’t wait to tell you in person.

That I’m ridiculous? How kind of you.

That I love you.

Hours later, maybe a minute or two after it hits 6 PM, and you’re contemplating what sort of soft pretzel to buy, a drop dead gorgeous concertgoer catches your attention by extending a handkerchief towards you. Confused, you inspect the soft fabric before taking it. “Thanks?” You wonder as you start to pocket it, but they stop you with a laugh and a shake of their head.

“Your makeup’s running a little bit.” To emphasize their point, they tap their cheek.

“My makeup?” Your free hand instinctively imitates their gesture, but nothing stains your fingertips. “What do you-” and it clicks so suddenly, your breath hitches mid-sentence. The Monbebe’s expression flashes bewilderment and your heart plummets, falling so abruptly that you can’t catch it. You shove the handkerchief back into their hands and sprint to the nearest bathroom, forgetting about how long you’d had to wait to be so close to the front of the line. You barely get out an excuse me before you’re gripping the edges of a sink and gazing at your own reflection in one of the many mirrors.

Just in time to see the final letters of what had once been there vanishing.

Ten minutes before the concert starts, as you sit surrounded by the overwhelming energy of hundreds of people, something cold presses your arm.

I’m sorry.

Six minutes later, you bring yourself to respond.

I guess I was wrong.

Two more minutes and your arm is wiped clean. Nyx cheers happily beside you, and you smile when she looks your way.

We aren’t going to meet today.

The lights dim before you can see if your words are gone.

Nyx says something you don’t hear over the screams and music.

“What?” You call, unable to even hear your own voice, and she points towards the stage. Sure enough, when you look back, all of Monsta X is up there, each of them dancing incredibly, and you lose yourself in awe for a moment. One of the taller members radiates such effortless grace, even when he sings, and you can’t drag your attention away from him. His gaze sweeps over your area, almost as if he could sense your own stare, and he makes eye contact for a second. It somehow feels longer, and there’s a calm that falls over you as you smile back at him, waving without a second thought. He must get embarrassed, because you barely see his (indescribably adorable) smile before he’s turning his head away - and then the choreography carries him to the other side of the stage, and you’re reminded that Nyx had been trying to say something.

When you shift your focus back to her, she’s leaning much closer and gesturing between her arm and the member who’d just looked at you - you think. You glance at her arm, and through the strobe lights, you see the wolf on her wrist has rid itself entirely of its sheep costume and is now completely white, with colors seeping into the inner edges of its shape. It wags its tail and seems to bark towards the stage. “Holy shit, Nyx!”

It seems that wasn’t what she was trying to point out, because you see more than hear her groan as she briefly checks her arm. Then she stops before she can look back up - no screaming, no jumping around, no frustration at your not being able to hear her. Nothing. “Nyx?” You brace yourself to catch her just in case, but she stands still, unwavering, gaze slowly lifting to the stage.

The song ends, and as you move to follow her line of sight, you see one member - not the one from before - looking back this way before the lights fade out.

After the concert ends, the world comes crashing down as you wait to get out of the parking lot.

You’re stuck waiting in a too-long line of other cars all trying to get out too, humming the last performed song under your breath and thinking about the man you’d waved at. As much as you tried not to focus solely on him for the rest of the concert, you’d found your gaze repeatedly drawn to him. There was just something that clicked in your head when you watched him, a serenity you’d never felt before (and one you hadn’t expected to feel at a concert, of all places). And more than once, you’d caught him stealing glances towards your side of the stage, though you hadn’t made eye contact again.

Nyx hiccups, and it draws you out of your thoughts. You don’t need to look at her to know she’s all cried out. “How am I ever going to meet him?” She whispers, more to herself than for you, and your heart stills.

The disappointment from earlier rears its head. You’d really been hoping to find your soulmate today. They’d agreed to go along with your idea - hell, they’d loved it, if their reaction was anything to go by. So why didn’t they follow through? Had they gotten cold feet? Did they not feel ready to meet yet?

As you waited, moving your car along inch by agonizing inch, the disappointment slowly gave way to heavy-hearted understanding. A part of you had been anxious at the mere thought of meeting them all day, and though no part of you felt relieved when the word vanished, you were starting to rationalize: maybe it was better this way. Maybe you both just needed more time to get to know each other. Maybe it would be better to decide when you would meet, to discuss and have time to prepare for it. It wouldn’t be so bad, you reasoned, waiting a little longer. You’d been “soulmate-less” most of your life - what was waiting to meet them a few more days, weeks, months?

(Not years. Years would be too much to handle.)

(You’d really miss being able to sleep easily, though.)

“What is meant to be, will be.”

In the passenger seat, Nyx sighs. “Right.”

Right.

It takes thirty minutes to finally reach the hotel, despite what had been a mere five minute drive this morning. Leaving a concert was a nightmare, you decided.

“My legs ache.” She croaked as she tried to massage her thigh.

The image of her jumping excitedly about during the concert makes you chuckle. “Would you look at that, if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”

Her eyes are almost entirely shut when she glares at you, and you know she’s nursing a headache. “Shush. Carry me?” As she asks, she lifts her arms towards you as if you’d already agreed.

“No way,” you shoot her down, even though you crouch in front of her. A small cheerful noise comes out of her as she rests against your back, and you grab her thighs as she wraps her legs around your waist. Once she’s situated, you stand back up and start carefully climbing the pompous grand staircase (you hadn’t been able to find the damn elevator). The bag she holds swings back and forth at the movement, and you lift your chin to avoid getting smacked. “We have Tylenol in our room, take it once we get there.”

“Thank you!”

You regret the decision to carry her up all the stairs to reach the floor of your room.

Nyx’s voice is muffled from where you lay with your face pressed into your pillow. “I’m so sorry. I really thought you were gonna put me down at some point.” You raise your head when she presses something cold to your hand and you say a small thank you before taking the water bottle she offers. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

You drink until there’s a slight discomfort in your stomach, then you set the bottle aside and push yourself to sit up. You need to get yourself cleaned up. “I’m fine, just tired. I’m gonna go take a shower, then I’ll probably pass out or something.” You gather your pajamas and make your way towards the bathroom, and pause. With a glance back at her, you see her staring down at her mark, a colorful wolf sleepily curled around her wrist. “You’re meeting your online friend soon, aren’t you?”

She perks up, her gaze lifting to settle on you. “Yeah! He’s exhausted and I am too, and since we’re here for two days, we agreed to meet tomorrow.”

As you close the bathroom door behind you, you hear a knock at the door.

Thankfully, you had a mind to get dressed in the bathroom, because when you step out, there’s a stranger casually conversing with Nyx.

“Hello?” You wave your hand to catch their attention, and when they look at you, they both quickly erupt into shit-eating grins. That’s an expression you know means mischief, so you prepare to slip back into the bathroom and pretend to never have come out, but Nyx is jumping to her feet and hurrying to grab your hands before you do.

“(y/n), this is my soulmate!”

Suspicion melts away, and you smile at the two of them. “Whoa, congratulations! How did -” Getting another look at him, you realize it really is a member of Monsta X. No wonder she wasn’t sure if she’d meet them. “How did he find you?”

She turns to look at him over her shoulder, and even though you can’t see her expression, you just know that it’s full of love. He smiles back at her so softly, like he’s been doing it all his life, and as happy as you are for them, you can’t help but feel like an intruder.

You’re glad to see her so happy, really, you are.

But if you have to spend one more minute in a room with these two when the sting of not having met your own soulmate is still too fresh, you’re gonna burst.

“You don’t have to go, really.” The apology is clear on her face. Behind her, her soulmate - Changkyun, he’d introduced himself - glanced between you and his phone, typing something you vaguely suspect may be about you. You’d asked earlier if there was something on your cheek, since he kept glancing at it, but he’d shaken his head and smiled at Nyx, as if there was a joke you weren’t in on. “Please don’t go just sit next to the vending machine. I feel terrible.”

“You don’t have to,” Changkyun pipes up, setting his phone down on his lap and focusing on you two. “I have a friend who wouldn’t mind you hanging out in his room.”

“Maybe not, but I won’t intrude on a stranger. Besides, I can think of a lot of people who would mind me hanging out with someone from Monsta X so casually.” At that, he snickers, conceding you the point. “I’ll be okay, really. There are some seats and tables set up near the vending machine. I’m not gonna be sitting on the floor. You two have fun, yeah?” You turn to head down the hall - and stop. “Well, not too much fun, please, I have to sleep he-”

The door slams shut, but you can still hear Changkyun’s laughter, muffled as it is.

At 11:59 PM exactly, as you’re watching the decent quality videos you’d taken earlier, the familiar sensation of new ink writing itself out on your arm steals your attention. The words translate faster than ever.

I told you I’d find you today.

You can’t help the scoff that slips out, but while you’re reaching for your own pen, the most melodic laugh to ever grace your ears sounds off from in front of you and your breath catches in your throat. Footsteps slowly approach you, whoever it is (you know who it is) stops just as their legs come into your field of vision. When they crouch, you still can’t quite see their face, but you recognize the outfit (you know who this is). A hand grabs your own, their long fingers tracing shapes over your skin, reaching up until they touch the words (their words - and it feels just like the ink reshaping itself, but so much better because it’s real). You let out a shaky sigh when their other hand gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You can look at me.” A soothing voice whispers, as if they’re as in awe of you as you are of them, and like the sailor allured by the siren, you happily obey.

The first thing you focus on is the fondness swimming deep in his dark brown eyes, and it takes a moment for you to register: that fondness is for you. His lips, plush and pink and oh so kissable are drawn into a soft smile, his head tilted slightly as he tries to get a better look at you. The hair that falls over his eyes is beautiful and so fluffy, you wonder how it would feel to run your hands through it (and pretend not to get flustered at your own train of thought). His touch spreads warmth throughout your body, your heart beating so much faster than is probably healthy, but you really don’t mind. On his own arm, you spot Korean words you’ve never written before, and yet you recognize it as your own handwriting.

He ducks his head a little more, gently coaxing you to look into his eyes again - and holy shit, you recognize him. This is the man from the concert, the one who’d looked at you, the one with the adorable smile and the aura of natural grace.

And there’s that instant, easy tranquility falling over you again.

“I’m sorry.” The hand not holding yours strokes a knuckle over your cheek, the slight furrow of his brows regretful, and you understand what he means. (And you don’t like that almost melancholy look in his eyes.) A smile that mirrors his own tugs at your lips, and you shake your head slowly as you tentatively interlace yours and his fingers. A faint pink kisses his cheeks, and when he flickers his gaze up to lock with yours, you swear there are galaxies lost in his eyes.

Your heart falls again, but this time he’s there to catch it. “It’s okay,” he perks at the sound of his voice, and when his smile softens even more and he looks absolutely smitten, you wonder if that’s how you look, too. “Your makeup artist..?” He nods with a sigh of relief that brushes against your lips. Your cheek grows warmer, which you just know he can feel beneath his hand. (Sure enough, his little chuckle confirms your thoughts.)

His smile somehow grows fonder, and you know you’re in love.

“My name is Hyungwon. Not-” he interrupts himself with a quiet laugh that you lean forward to hear better, nearly pressing your foreheads together. “Hyuwon.”

Laughter comes as easily with him in front of you as it did when he was miles away. “Okay. My name is (y/n.)”

After heading back to his room (which he promised he’s not sharing, so it'd be just the two of you), you lose track of time from how much you guys talk, or just bask in the pure joy of having finally united. However, your body doesn’t.

You don’t expect the yawn that parts your lips, and he says something that sounds a bit like cute. “Tired?” At your nod, he hums before falling into curious silence. (Just as you expected, he looks breathtakingly cute when he’s thinking, his lips forming a small pout as he stares passed you.) Once he must find what he wants to say, he shifts away from the center of the bed and pulls the covers back, patting the mattress. “Sleep with me?”

The offer sincerely warms your heart, the butterflies beating harder against your ribs, and you have no chance to stop the wide smile that comes to your face as you stare at him. I love you so much already, your mind sighs. Your chest feels tight, your heart aches so sweetly, and you don’t mind any of it. The soft yellow of the lamp on his bedside table casts him in an angel’s glow, and not for the first time since you met him, you awe at his beauty. How lucky I am, you muse as you nod and carefully lay yourself down in the spot he’s left you, that you are my soulmate, Hyungwon.

Hyungwon’s posture stiffens a second before he relaxes. He leans over you to turn the lamp off, the trace scent of jasmine and home gently embracing you, and you close your eyes. The light clicks off, he shifts back into his place beside you, and a comfortable silence falls around you. For a few minutes, there’s hardly any movement or sound, just the soft hissing of the humidifier and your own breathing.

The feel of his hand wrapping around yours underneath the blankets startles you half to death. You turn to peer at him through the darkness - only to find he’s already staring at you, his lips quirking into a smile when you make eye contact. He pulls you closer by your joined hands until your faces are so close, your breaths intermingle between you, and then he brings your hand to his lips. The kiss he presses into your skin is delicate and loving, unbelievably so, and when his gaze flickers from your knuckles to your eyes, you nearly gasp at the raw affection you see in them.

“Goodnight, 자기야.”

Though the word sounds unfamiliar, it still warms your heart all the same. “Say that again.”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile turning amused. “자기야?”

“Ja - gi - yah?” You repeat slowly, looking at him to see if you’d said it right. He laughs under his breath, but it’s a fond noise. He props himself onto his elbow and reaches across from you again, grabbing a nearby pen and quickly scribbling it down on his arm. As expected, when you glance at your own arm, the word has written itself out - and rather quickly translated itself.

Darling.

Your heart just about melts. As you turn to stare at him again, he chooses that moment to lean down and press a kiss against your cheek. “Goodnight, 자기야.”

“Goodnight,” you breathe, almost stunned into silence when you meet his eyes.

I love you, they promise.

It’s the best sleep you’ve had in your life.

#monsta x scenarios #monsta x scenario #monsta x soulmate au #hyungwon #hyungwon/reader #this was a lot of fun to write - im an absolute sucker for soulmate aus 💕

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