#but I’m behind on studying AND I’m running a fever sigh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rendaze · 2 years ago

Text

work on you (m)

+ featuring ... manager!taehyung x idol!reader

+ summary ... when your manager, kim taehyung, decides to avoid you after a massage turned sexual, you are determined to kill two birds with one stone: get him to talk to you again by fucking him.

+ genre ... smut, fluff

+ wordcount ... 12k

+ warnings ... fem!reader, possessive/jealous!taehyung, dom!taehyung, perv!taehyung, brat!reader, a lot of dirty talk, orgasm denial, objectification, dumbification, degradation, dirty talk, cumplay, cum swallowing, exhibitionism, public fingering,

For much of the night, Kim Taehyung is quiet. He rests on the crème couch, cat eyes observing you through the mirror. Outside, pink skies fade to indigo and crickets popcorn beneath the underbrush; the pattering of your feet against the practice room floor accompanies it. It has been hours since workers have clocked out and the last buses have run, but he knows this.

Your manager of two years is not known for the saccharine politeness of his peers nor the pedantic nature of his seniors. Instead, he is blunt. Reserved. An intrinsic part of your life whom you’d grown reliant on as winter faded to summer and back again.

His diligence is not due to principle but rather habit – if it wasn’t for you, he would be watching cable, cigarette ash tainting work clothes he was too tired to change out of. Instead, he waits—regardless of overtime—to drive you to your apartment where he bids you a weary ‘bye’ only to pick you up three hours later. He doesn’t need to, but he does. A habit.

But as entangled as your lives have grown, he has always kept a distance; hence your intrigue when he approaches you post-practice where he would have ignored you altogether.

“You look tired,” he says in the disinterested tone you’d come to expect.

He studies you through the floor-length mirrors as you spread your legs in a stretch. You had been shy once, all too aware of how little your leggings left to the imagination, but Taehyung’s blank stares had assuaged those thoughts long ago.

You admit, his ignorance bothers you. He is there, but he is not, with all the presence of drapery that sways only when a window is ajar.

“I’m fine,” you say – and you are, for the most part. “Just a little sore.”

“Where does it hurt?”

You dismiss his verbosity as a sign of your own palpable fatigue. “No, it’s just that my shoulders feel like shit.”

“Do you need help?” His fingers flutter before your face. “I could give you a massage.”

As the sole target of his scoldings, the notion of such a Samaritan action is laughable. “Oh, really? You?”

“Why not?” Cherry-tinted lips twitch. “Can’t have your body breaking down on me before your comeback.”

His tongue pokes his cheek and he cracks his knuckles; the sound draws you to the length of his fingers, callused and long. The kind meant to caress piano keys or draw pleasure from a crooning lover. You think of those hands on you, enkindling a different type of satisfaction.

You are pulled to face the mirror as he stands behind you. “Like this,” he says, the ball of his wrist gliding against your upper back. His hands are rough as he kneads, tugging and pressing on the skin as he would dough, a harshness that should hurt but doesn’t. He moves closer, his pulsing heat a reminder of his proximity.

Sandalwood, you realize. That’s what he smells like.

You breathe it in as if the rest of him would follow. Once, twice. Then exhale as he finds a particular knot between your shoulders.

“Your muscles are so tight,” he says, with all the wispy quality of a fever dream.

It’s wanton to clench at such an innocent usage of the word but you do, thighs rubbing against each other in pursuit of friction.

The siren song of his whisper dallies close to your ear’s cusp. “You’ve really been overworking yourself. I guess this is sort of my fault, huh?” He heaves a great sigh. “It’s only right that I make up for it then.”

You nod, unable to part your lips for fear of the sounds that would surface. Had you always been so weak, you wonder, the tickle of his breath inches from your neck enough to compose your compliance. Comets of ideas, bad and worse, streak past your musings. You pluck one, entertaining the thought of grinding against his length until it hardens between your ass.

You instantly berate yourself though your underwear moistens still.

Your manager. He’s your manager. A person of whom your mortification would be parried, and your chagrin discarded. Such constant proximity would be unbearable if awkward, and Taehyung, as curt as he is, means too much to you to be cast aside due to your own lack of restraint.

Stood before a mirror, there is nothing else to focus on but the reflected image of him behind you. There’s no particular difference in his wardrobe today: a beige cardigan, dark jeans, and pale sneakers, reminiscent of a History major, art connoisseur, or both. Curled obsidian hair drapes along the curve of his eyes, eyes focused on his ministrations against your back. One would expect a more formal way of dress, but considering that most of his job revolves around following your schedule all day there’s no reason to.

He grins when he catches you staring.

You scoff, face burning. “What?”

“Don’t you think you’ll feel better if I massage you while you’re lying down?”

His hands rub your bare arms, coaxing a reply out of your quiet contemplation. You hesitate – not out of wariness, but rather embarrassment that he may find a swift reply too eager. Though he is not one to heartlessly poke fun at another, you attempt as casual a shrug as your nerves can handle.

He leads you by a gentle grip on your wrist to the spacious couch opposite where you’d been standing. The same couch he spends most of his time on while waiting for your practices to end.

He motions for you to flip over and lie down on your stomach with a swirl of his finger. The action combined with your obedience is almost dog-like, but you are so deeply entrenched in his spell that if he told you to bark you would.

Face planted into a pillow, you can hear his shuffling as he kneels atop you outside your thighs. He rubs circles against your shoulders, leaning forward to whisper: “Feels good?”

Below, your core aches like the starved, demanding sustenance.

“Sure,” you say, settling on the least innocuous of words. “You’re like… strangely good at this.”

“Good enough to switch careers? I don’t think the pay would be as good, though.”

“I wouldn’t be there either, so that would suck. For you.”

There’s a playful frown in his tone. “Oh, yes, because how could I ever go about my day-to-day life without you in it?”

He’s joking but you do wonder what he does outside of managing you. If he has hobbies, passions, friends… or a significant other he does this to. To be candid, the thought irks you.

“Are you sore anywhere else?” he asks, having focused on your shoulders.

You respond with a breathless ‘yes’, turning your head to meet his gaze. “My lower back.”

His fingers are a paradox of frigid and warm as he grazes your neck, making his way down your spine, then shoulders, then upper arms. He sits astride your ass, touch gliding against the exposed skin below your top. He digs into your muscles as if trying to see what is buried beneath them.

He’s never touched you so purposefully before.

He’s never done much of any of this before.

Talking. Touching. Tempting.

“Is it cool if I lift your shirt?” he asks. “It’s getting in the way.”

Your breath hitches, your heart races, and somewhere outside the company building the horn of a taxi startles you out of reverie.

“Go ahead.” You nod, helping him help you out of the shirt.

He’s clinical as he folds it and places it on the hardwood flooring. He doesn’t look at your bra—a gray, sporty number—and avoids touching the fabric as he continues.

A few blissful minutes pass when he says that he has an idea.

He gets up, walks to your bag, and (without needing to ask) locates the lotion you keep in a pouch. Settling back down, his crotch nestles between the warmth of your ass. The plastic pump splashes white cream onto your back which he massages into the skin.

“Does that feel better?” he asks, hands gliding across the exposed flesh. It smells like nectar on his hands and feels like ambrosia against your skin. His touch is overwhelming, every caress casting electricity straight to your lower stomach.

“My abdomen hurts too.” The words are a muffled whisper against the throw pillow your face is buried in.

“Then, turn over,” he says, as if it’s that simple. Perhaps, to him it is. Perhaps, this is all in your head, that lightning-charged static in the air.

He moves up, allowing space for you to roll over.

When he sits down his crotch directly presses against your clothed cunt.

His pinky rests against your chest, moving with the sound of your breathing. It slips slightly beneath the stretch of fabric, poking the flesh. You hold your breath until you can’t– until your lungs demand air as much as your body demands his.

You hold his wrist. “Is my bra getting in the way too?”

His adam's apple bobs, pretty eyes flickering between you and your concealed chest. “A bit,” he shrugs, sliding another finger beneath the underwire.

Your voice is raspy, the way one sounds when in thirst. “Then you should remove it.”

He moves with the grace of a caught deer, watching your face for any sign of hesitation. Your back arches, allowing his hand to slip underneath and unclip it. He slides the straps down your arms, inch by inch, giving you time to say no. You don’t, not able to even fathom the thought of doing so.

He drinks in your chest and the erect nipples standing in the centers of them with dilated pupils and hooded eyes. You imagine that he thinks you’re gorgeous, that it takes all of his will-power not to ravage you on that couch as beasts often do. It is that need to be made into poetry under his gaze that you push your chest upward, seeking his warmth.

He stills your squirming with a hand to your sternum. “Don’t move,” he says, a command you heed the moment it leaves his lips.

The rough pads of his fingers graze your hips then stomach before resting beneath the cusp of your chest. You are hyper-aware of every movement, every stutter, every pulse – if only so that you don’t miss that cataclysmic moment when his hands finally cup the flesh that hides your stampeding heart.

He grips you carefully, digging moon-shaped indents on your skin. Your nipples rest within the crevice of his outstretched fingers, surrounded yet untouched.

“This isn’t a good angle.” He pouts, looking around before finding the tossed pillows. Your back is moved into an arch as he tucks one of them beneath the small of your back, causing your chest to jut out from where you lay. He grins, satisfied.

His hands go back to your chest, working from the outside in circular motions, avoiding your nipples. He then reaches for the lotion bottle, pumping more of the white cream onto you.

“Do you like this?” He asks, fingers dragging around your slippery tits.

“Yeah, it feels really good.”

“Really good, huh?” He laughs when your body jerks at his finger brushing against your nipple. “How about this? Are you sensitive here?”

You groan when he pinches the bud. “What do you think?”

“No one’s giving them enough attention, huh?”

To your embarrassment, you whine when he moves his hands away.

“Shh, you don’t want to be caught getting special treatment from your manager, do you? Unless… that’s the sort of thing you’re into?” He laughs, eyes blown out as he watches you panic. You’ve never seen that look on him before.

“What the hell are you talking about, you dick?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lower lip in an attempt to quell his laughter. If you weren’t insanely horny at the moment then you would’ve been better able to appreciate the rarity of such a display of emotion. “You’re just being really cute right now acting all shy when all I’m doing is giving you a massage. You said you were tired, so I’m helping you.” He squeezes your tits. “That’s part of my job, isn’t it?”

You scoff. “You mean this is you being a pervert. I can feel your definitely average-sized cock hard as hell against me.”

Taehyung gasps as if that was the most insulting thing he’d ever heard. “Okay, three things: one, I’m not a pervert; two, my cock is definitely not average; and three, if you want me to stop then tell me and we can pretend that this never happened. Or, you know, if the pretending fails then we could just die from the inescapable awkwardness. That’d be fine too.”

Trust that he was only ever talkative when he wanted to bother you. You roll your eyes, mumbling: “Well, I didn’t say that…”

His gaze meets yours, dark and tempting. “Then what do you want from your poor, overworked manager?”

You answer by moving his hand back to your chest. “Nothing much,” you say coyly, though what you mean is ‘everything’.

His nails scratch tight circles around each bud, teasing you. He watches your wide-eyed desperation with amusement, alternating between fanning his fingers over the points and holding them between his slippery fingers, squeezing them until they slip out of his grip.

He blows phantom winds against the mounds, hardening them into stalactites. He rocks against you, hips against hips, crotch against crotch, stimulating your clit through the sheer fabric of your leggings. You whine and pant with every motion.

“You’re so noisy. Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” The word leaves you before you can fake nonchalance.

“Then be a good girl and focus on my service.”

Though he’d always been the strict type, you weren’t one to be so obedient: to follow his every command, bend at his will, become a pliable figure; to crave escape through the form of mindlessness. Between his periodic seeking of consent and cautious eyes, you feel safe, safe to drown in his touch and never resurface. You know, even then, that despite the blasé way you were both treating this moment, it was one that neither of you could take back.

He scoots backwards from where he sat on your thighs, moving your feet over his lap. From this angle, he is sure to notice the wet outline of your labia through your leggings.

The soles of your feet are a slight vermillion from having danced barefoot for the past three hours, and he briefly rubs them before moving upwards, to your ankles, your knees, your thighs. It is with an anxious draw of breath that you await his touch at your most sensitive center.

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

“Anywhere,” you say. “As long as you keep doing it.”

“I’m going to need a specific place, sweetheart.”

Head tossed back, you whine. “Just- Come on, Taehyung.”

He kneads your outer thighs, scarcely exerting pressure. “Is this what you want?”

“Please. There. Touch me there. It hurts.”

He chuckles beneath his breath. “Poor baby. I’m sorry, but I don't know where ‘there’ is. Oh, I have an idea. How about you show it to me?” He moves to give you enough space. “Come on, show me where and how you want to be touched.”

You, the rational you, would have been unable to process the erotic words coming from your manager’s lips. These are the whispers you’d conjured in daydreams with not even the hope of being subject. But you aren’t the rational you. The you beneath Taehyung is someone else entirely, someone caught in a dream without desire to wake.

Your hands crawl to the waistband of your leggings but hesitate at the breach.

“Don’t be shy. I know how you like to play with your little cunt in hotel showers, even though you know I’m waiting outside the door, subject to hearing your pretty moans. I’ve always wondered how you pleasured yourself, if you liked to finger your sopping hole until you passed out or if you preferred to press the stream of a shower head against your clit.”

Whilst your right hand sneaks its way into your underwear, your left slaps to your lips, rushed to suppress a gasp. “Are you actually trying to kill me? Have some fucking decorum. And what do you mean you heard me?”

“Decorum? I’m not the one touching myself where anyone could walk in and catch me.”

You didn’t even realize when you’d started the teasing motions, fingers caressing your outer labia.

You scoff. “You’re acting like you weren’t salivating over my tits a few minutes ago.”

“Is that what you want? Me salivating over your tits?”

His hair, like strands of inky silk, drape over eyes that refuse to part from your gaze. He is warm where he touches you, cold where he doesn’t, and temperate only when he mouths against your skin, marking you, in some invisible way, as his own. Your gasp echoes in that cave-like room, his lips an inferno keeping you sane. He nibbles at your breasts, teeth tugging at the perked tips. His spit dribbles down your flesh.

“So soft. I’ve always wondered what you taste like.” His mumbles vibrate against your skin.

You press tight circles against your clit at the same pace as Taehyung’s tongue against your nipples. The sounds, wet and sticky, are loud to an embarrassing degree.

“Baby, look at you. At this rate you’re going to dirty the couch, and then who’s gonna have to clean it? Maybe if I’m too tired I’ll have you lick it spotless instead.”

You push a finger inside, curling the digit with a gasp.

“Interesting.” He grins. “So, you do like it when I treat you like this. I knew it.”

“You talk way too much when you’re horny.”

“Only because it’s you,” he says. “You turn me into an absolute mess.”

“Is that why you only talk to me when you want to scold me?” It’s a childish question. His attention wasn’t yours to have, a fact you’ve grown well-acquainted to.

“Because I knew something like this–” he licks your neck “–was inevitable, and that it’d be my fault. Though… I’m starting to think you’re the type that likes to be scolded.”

His face is inches from yours. The span of a butterfly’s wings, or a fallen autumn leaf. You prop yourself up with the arm that isn’t beneath your leggings, breaching the gap ever so slowly. “So, you imagined it, then? Something like this happening?”

“It usually went a little different.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’d already be fucking you, for starters. And I’d probably initiate it with something less lame than ‘offering a massage’.” He notices your slowing hand and laughs. “Tired, already? You really are such a princess. Do you want me to do it for you?”

You nod, though you should have known nothing ever came easy with Kim Taehyung.

His fingers creep up your legs before squeezing your thighs open. Between, a wet spot darkens the fabric, and he notices it with a smugness that annoys you. He moves your arm away before palming your wet cunt from outside your leggings. The touch is electrifying yet not nearly enough to sate you. As if sensing your dissatisfaction, he slips his hand beneath the cloth, directly touching your clit.

He sloppily plays with your juices, spreading them around your pussy. Deeming you wet enough, he sinks a finger into your warmth. The squelch sound is inescapable as he begins a moderate pace. You squeeze your eyes tight enough for your world to burst into starlight, flecks of shimmery white floating across your vision.

He lifts his hand to your face, and you could smell your moisture before you saw it, viscous strands hanging between his fingers. “Look at this,” he says. “They’re soaking wet.”

Without thought, you take his fingers into your mouth, rolling your tongue around the digits. You’d never tasted yourself before. It’s more sour than you imagined, but not as bad as one would expect.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. “What’re you making that face for? Do you want more?”

You release his fingers. “Fuck, please just touch me.”

He leans over you, nibbling at your ear before whispering: “Too bad.”

All too abruptly, he startles you by clapping his hands and standing up. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

You blink, dumbfounded. “To… fuck?”

He laughs, glancing at his watch. “As much as I would love that, I’m still your manager. And you have to be awake by eight,” he explains with a normalcy unsuited for your half-clothed, aroused state.

“Are we really not going to even talk about-”

He tosses you your shirt and bra.

“Thanks…” You don the clothes in haste. “And for the massage. Though, it was missing one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“An orgasm,” you deadpan.

“Well, there’s always the option of getting me fired, though I’d prefer to keep my livelihood sustained, thanks.”

“Don’t give me ideas,” you joke. “And here I was thinking you’d risk it all for me.”

“I’d risk a lot of things for you, but definitely not if seeing you around everyday was at stake.”

A grin forms on his tinted lips as he turns before you can gather your words. The door slams shut behind his harried exit and you are left, alone.

Several suns have set and risen, and on the eighth turning you decide you’d had enough of his boyish disregard. You recall being eight, blithe with even the gentle breeze lifting autumn leaves into tangerine storms. Boys at that age were difficult, if they weren’t picking at you they were ignoring you altogether, huddled into little clubs of their own. Every attempt at breaching their sanctified playground circles result in them scurrying in all directions, like mice caught lurking in a kitchen. Taehyung didn’t seem much different.

When he picked you up on the morning after that first intimacy, he had nary a word to say. Even a glance too many had his ears reddening and shoulders curling in, as if it were possible to shrink himself small enough to be unseen. He, who’d eat in his car if he weren’t eating with you, found himself talking to the other staff, if only to avoid your confrontation disposition as he knew you were loath to interrupt an uninvited conversation.

Prior to the current state of tension, you’d jokingly asked him to guess what your astrological sign was. His immediate guess was Taurus. As your manager, he was the one most subjected to your stubbornness, your unwillingness to give up if only to prove a point. But you—impatient, tired you—were reaching your limit.

Yes, you were stubborn, but you hadn’t realized how his obstination could rival your own. And more than your missing and wanting of him, the question of ‘why’ burned trails along your musings. Why? Why was he avoiding you when: one, he’d been the one to initiate the tryst; two, during the moment, he’d joked of things being too awkward (and surely joking about things being awkward meant that things weren’t awkward enough to not be joked about); and three, he had acted as if everything was fine until that dreadful morning after, when he picked you up from your apartment (as he always did) except with not a word to say or a glance to spare.

Yes, indeed, you were stubborn. It was how you’d gotten this far in such a consuming career, but you were sure that you’d have given up at this point – he was just a man after all, and you had other problems of greater consequence. However, there was one thing stopping you from ceasing the pursuit.

Alone in your apartment, you are unafraid of moaning or indulging in the characteristic sticky sound of masturbation. That wetness spurs you into speed. A rush to completion. It is more out of necessity than pleasure, and the pace of your fingers exhibit that. You don’t bother fingering yourself, finding the notion too tiring. Instead, your focus is on your clit and massaging tight circles against the protective skin covering it.

You’ve become an expert of your own body, having so few sexual partners over the years. The risk of dating was high for idols, and you’d found that the few times you had risked it it was never sex worth losing one’s career for.

You know how much pressure to apply against the nub, teasing yourself at the edge long enough to draw out the pleasure. Your other hand lazily drapes across your chest, softly gliding across the skin just as Taehyung had that week before.

You’d be quite the fool to not notice how he coughs into his fist, ears red, when he notices your staring, or the subtle ways he checks you out when he thinks you aren’t looking (that much, at least, hasn’t changed).

By this point, you’d masturbated to him and that moment on the couch one too many times.

When you cum it is not as satisfying as it should be. It is but a relief of pressure rather than a gateway to ecstasy. There’s something missing, though to question what it is would be a benign pursuit for you already know the answer.

It is then, winded and shaking, that you come to the conclusion you’d been dreading.

You need to fuck Kim Taehyung… and then you’d figure out it why it is that your heart aches so.

The car’s hum permeates the air and settles on your skin unpleasantly, as if trapping you in its needly weight. Suffocating. There is no better word for it.

When his eyes flicker from the road to you, it is even worse. You hate that he looks good: styled hair, pressed clothes, expensive cologne. But what you hate most is that you don’t see any of it. Instead there is the image of him above you, cock sliding in as if nothing could fit better.

It isn’t silent from a lack of trying, but after the hundredth attempt at conversation you’d grown tired.

He has not regarded you once despite you wearing his favorite outfit (a favoritism you’d deduced when he glanced at you one too many when you’d last worn it). The corduroy atop his thighs becomes his handkerchief, more to wipe sweaty palms against than a piece of clothing.

When he makes a sharp right turn, your hand on the center console knocks against his.

He jumps but plays it off, turning off the blinker and pressing closer to the door than he had been.

You sigh. “Do I have some infectious disease I should know about? That’d be pretty bad for my career.”

He blinks at you, catches himself staring, then turns back to the road.

“No,” he answers plainly.

“You aren’t even gonna berate me for sleeping in this morning?” Tired from last night’s self-ministrations, you slept through your alarms, leaving him waiting in the car for over an hour. On a normal day, he would’ve spent the entire trip either glaring at you or complaining. He did neither.

“You must’ve been tired,” he said.

“Remember what happened last time I was sore and tired?”

He sucks a breath between his teeth, gives you an incredulous look of shock, then proceeds to pretend as if you’d said nothing.

In a series of losses, you consider that a win.

Emboldened, you lean across the controls and press your hand on his thigh, your face so dangerously close to his that you could smell the mintiness of his aftershave. You’d always liked the cleanliness in which he prided himself on. Smoking, he’d always joked, was his only flaw. When stressed, he had a tendency to hit a few sticks more than usual. It didn’t take a genius to surmise the reason as to why, despite the sun’s low place in the sky, you could smell that more-than-few on him. You were both figuratively and literally bad for his health.

He sneaks a glance down your chest, cleavage revealed by the low cut of your top. He’d always been so fond of your breasts, those soft curves of flesh that he spent so much time fondling when he had the chance to. He gulps before looking away.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, coyly. His grip on the wheel twitches as he contemplates removing your hand from his thigh but thinks otherwise, perhaps rationalizing that touching your hand in order to remove it was also a bad move in his plan to pretend you were but a figment of a mind tortured to want what it shouldn’t have.

The main road close to the company building appears before you, a heavy strip of crowded cars anxious to make it in time to their corporate rat living.

You glance downwards. “Did I make you hard?”

He makes a choking sound, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel because the answer is yes, you had. The stiff texture of his pants only heightens the image of his cock struggling beneath, forming a tent you have to look away from lest it distract you from your mission. “I have to focus on driving.”

A pointed look is thrown his way as you gesture towards the windscreen. “We’re going to be stuck in this traffic for probably more than twenty minutes,” you say, untucking his button-up from his pants. Your hands press against his toned stomach, making a home beneath his shirt. “Aren’t you bored?”

“Out of the two of us, I don’t think I’m the bored one.” He turns to face you, putting his hand atop yours. “Did you really like it that much? Me touching you? I’m starting to think that your excuse this morning was a lie. You were probably just playing with yourself, am I wrong?”

“Half wrong,” you grin. “I wasn’t fucking myself this morning.” You press your lips against his ear, chest against his shoulder. “I was fucking myself last night.”

He curses, head thrown back at the notion. “Has anyone ever told you how blunt you are?”

“You do,” you say. “Constantly.”

“That’s because you are.”

“Then what does that make you?”

“A horny fuck, who, by some stroke of luck, got paired to work for an idol that’s somehow even more depraved.”

Though you laugh, relief surges through you at the familiarity of his bantering. “Define ‘depraved’.”

He pushes your hand to his waistband. “This,” he says, as if it is some grotesque and beautiful thing. “How badly I want you.”

You unzip his pants and untuck his cock from his briefs. He’s larger than you’d expected; long yet girthy. You run a finger down the appendage, catching on the prominent veins.

“God,” he hisses at the contact. “You’ve been such a slut recently, it was only a matter of time before you did this, huh? Touching my cock where anyone could see.”

The flesh of him is soft and warm beneath your fingertips. You squeeze the head then trail down to the base, cupping his balls.

He’s beautiful when he moans. His head tosses back, curls cascading over shut eyes as he attempts to move away from the pleasure all the while begging for you not to stop. A beautiful paradox, and you its orchestrator.

“Right there,” he groans. “Rub the head just like that.”

His commands are hypnotic in a way you deign to follow.

“Shit, you’re such a sub, aren’t you? You do everything I ask you to if it means you get a nice, thick cock.”

Despite your forwardness, you lacked much experience regarding the kinkier side of sex, though not from lack of trying. Perhaps it was the consequence of a homogenous industry where every individual was fearful in the face of social ruin if word got out that they were participant in this or that.

“Maybe, I am.” You shrug. “But right now–” you squeeze his cock “–you’re in my hands. And you only get to cum when I say you can.”

With that, you take your hands off him. The look in his eyes is almost comical, as if you’d divorced him, taken custody of his three children, and set his house ablaze.

“Fuck. I was close,” he pleads. “Please don’t do this. I need to cum. Please.”

“You sound so pretty when you whine but that isn’t good enough.” You pout. “You need to promise that you’ll stop being awkward around me.”

“Shit, fine, I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t want to make things more weird than they already are.”

“See, I want to make things weird between us. So there’s really nothing for you to worry about.”

“You seriously don’t understand how much I think about fucking you on a daily basis. I wasn’t even purposely trying to ignore you, it’s just-” He runs a hand through his hair. “Whenever I see you I…” You wait for him to find his words only for him to say something entirely unexpected. “...Can I cum in your mouth?”

You snort. “Nope, you don’t deserve that.”

“Aw, man. This car was just deep cleaned.”

“C’mon, Taehyung, cum on your dashboard like a big boy.”

You continue your ministrations, tightening your fist around his length as you stroke him faster and faster. “You know you wanna cum for me, don’t you? Tae’s precious little idol.”

His reaction to the nickname you’d heard his colleagues call him was not missed by you.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “Say that again.”

“What? Tae?”

His cock twitches. “I don’t know why, but I really like it when you say my name.”

You lean in to whisper. “Then I’ll make sure to scream it when you inevitably fuck me.”

His eyes blink white, head slamming into the headrest. His cock twitches, then releases. You try to catch most of the mess in your hands but some escape onto his shirt and, unfortunately for him, his dashboard.

“You know what you’re doing, hm? My little slut. Made me cum so fast, baby.” He condescendingly pats your head as you help him wipe down the few strings of cum that misaimed.

“Far shooter, huh?”

“Shut up,” he huffs. “What about you? With how much you’ve been chasing after me, you must’ve wanted me that bad.” He nips at your ear. “Let me touch you.”

You feel his teeth drag against your skin, from your nape to your collarbone. You’re aware of the brush of his lips, the warmth of his breath, and the way he is pressed so close against you. Across the console, he reaches to slip his hand beneath the band of your bottoms. It is a familiar motion, reminiscent of what happened on the couch that night.

He wastes little time as his finger glides into you with an embarrassing squelch. You feel the rough pad rub against your g-spot, amazed at the swiftness in which he’d found it. Your walls tighten around him when he inserts a second then third digit.

“You’re so fucking tight. I want to bury my cock into this slutty hole so badly, you don’t even know,” he groans into your neck. His hand roughly paws at your chest. In want of more, he lifts your shirt, baring your chest to the traffic. “Thank god for tinted windows.”

He pinches your nipples, tugging them until they’ve extended farther than you’ve ever tried to. “My perfect little fuckdoll. My good fucking slut. All for me– only for me.” Hand confined in the tightness of your trousers, every motion caused his palm to slap against your skin, perfectly blending pleasure and pain.

He continues to rapidly finger you until you feel that telltale drop in the bottom of your stomach. He holds you as you cum, body shaking in the small space of the passenger’s seat. The fledgling feeling in your gut erupts with the incandescent sparks of some other foreign emotion. You wonder if it is happiness, or perhaps some remnant of lust. But then he looks at you—eyes soft as he caresses your hair, trailing fingers to your nape—and you think that it is the beginning of something else entirely.

“You good?” His voice is faint as he pulls you to face him. His flickering gaze searches your expression for some sign of hesitation or regret of which you have none.

“Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Same here.” He smiles. “Don’t blame me though if you have a hard time during practice.”

You punch his shoulder with a chuckle, serenity descending upon you in the afterglow of a cause of stress meeting its resolution.

After lunch you see a carton of orange juice sitting innocently on that couch, a small sticky-note attached to it. In clean handwriting, it read: ‘a peace offering’.

You laugh, stabbing the plastic straw into the carton.

You’d take it.

Kim Taehyung has always thought your beauty was the kind that accompanied devastation; attractive in a way that halted his breath and stymied his heart. Perhaps a bit too much for his sanity and his cock, which has been rubbed raw to the thought of you one too many times. You are much too pretty for his own good, and it has grown increasingly difficult to be around you without wanting to fuck you against every surface imaginable.

It’s made worse by the mask of nymph-like innocence that you wear around him, wearing those tight leggings and parading your pretty pussy for everyone to see. He knows you aren’t his. Knows it with all the confidence of blue skies and steady lakes, but there are times, strenuous times, where it is difficult to control the possessive nature he is chained by. When his co-workers mention how sexy you are in your latest comeback teasers he simply clenches his fists and stays quiet lest said fists pummel their faces. He isn’t a violent man by any means (and definitely wouldn’t stand a chance in a real fight, because, as his friends have said, he’d never do anything that could potentially ruin his pretty face) but he entertains the thought as a way to keep sane when forced to listen to their ramblings.

When he has to stand behind you during fansigns, he can’t help the bitter feeling that rises in his gut when you hold hands with fans he knows could never know you in the same intimacy that he does. When they talk about how much they love you, an indignant voice in his head fights back: do they know about all the pretty little lingerie you keep in the back of your closet? Do they know about how bad you are at hiding your moans when you play with your pretty pussy in hotel showers knowing that he’s waiting for you outside? Do they know the soft texture of your tits and the way your eyes roll back when he plays with your nipples just right?

It’s an irrational sort of jealousy, but he’s learned to bear it as part of the occupation. There are times, however, where it is much more arduous a task, such as the massage of last week and the car ride of yesterday.

The feeling is not one he is fond of; how at odds his desire to ruin you is with his one to have you ruin him. Such had been a constant in the past year. Blame proximity or his lowered standards of human decency after having worked with only the most heinous people in the industry – you were kind, even when you needn’t be, even when you shouldn’t have been. And it ached somewhere beneath his chest that you thought him deserving of it.

He knows such feelings are ones not meant for him to have, but he has long since been past the denial that it was only but a physical sort of affection. However, even with your initiation of yesterday’s tryst, he doesn’t allow himself to indulge in you in a manner less carnal; his gaze lustful as you prepare for a livestream.

You glance at him once as if sensing the shift in the air before you press ‘start’.

As your manager, he has to be in the room for most of your activities, even the boring ones – but he can think of a few ways to make it less so. For him and you.

You greet your fans with a laugh that is akin to sunlight bursting through foliage. “Of course I missed you guys, it’s why I’m doing this live right now.”

Your company-issued phone, to read and answer comments, is slid across the table with a note meant only for you: ‘Want to play a game, good girl?’

Though your eyes widen, you type your reply in the guise of looking through your fans’ messages, ever the professional. Your glance towards his phone is pointed and when he checks it he sees the notification of your text. ‘I don’t know what you’re planning, you horny fuck, but if you think I’m losing in any game then you’re on.’

There is little ceremony in how he drops to his knees to move underneath, cautious to keep silent. The table tall enough to situate himself. Oh, how he wishes he could see your reaction. He focuses on your voice: the hesitation in which you resume speaking; the hitch in your breath as he spreads your legs; the tremble in your tone as he places his hands on your thighs.

The sight of you beneath is lewd. Your underwear, a simple cotton gray piece, is already soaked. He’d always loved the color gray, especially because of how obvious it made wetness appear.

He allowed himself a moment to appreciate everything about you. The softness of your thighs. The stretch marks on your hips. The dotted marks that lined your legs. His nose grazes your knee, breathing in the saltiness of your sweat. How badly he wants to eat you up. To wholly consume you and spit you out in broken pieces, forced to crawl back to him in order to be fixed. It’s a horrible thought, he’s well aware, but he can’t help but be fixated on the idea that you might want that as well.

Your skin is as silken as he remembers, but touching it feels utterly different, stark raving mad; he leans into that sentiment, urgent in his need to pull you closer and kiss your thigh harder, desperately starved for something he could not yet name.

He imagines it difficult for you to read through the comments let alone reply to them when his hands are caressing your waist and playing with the garter of your underwear. Blood rushes to his cock at the sighs you release every time he teasingly dips his fingers past the fabric. You’re so pretty and perfect for him, his little slut.

Phone in hand, he sends: ‘Your pussy’s so wet for me already, baby. Do you want me to eat you out?’

It’s easy to surmise when you receive it, a light gasp disrupting your sentence.

He struggles to hold his laughter when your consent is given through a grab of his hair and a shove towards your crotch. Satisfied with your enthusiasm, his lips caress you above the fabric, catching against your clit but not wanting to give you what you want. Not yet.

He teases you for ten minutes, licking up and down your clothed cunt until the fabric is fully darkened – only then does he push it aside to expose your pussy lips to him completely. Having tested the patience of both you and him, he wastes little time in capturing your clit between his lips, suctioning onto it whilst swirling his tongue.

You spread your legs wider to give more access, allowing him to move from your clit to your tight hole, slowly edging his tongue inside it. Building up the pace, he begins fucking you with it whilst rubbing your clit with two fingers in quick circular motions.

He gathers his spit around his finger before pushing the moisture into you. You lewdly clench around the digit, sucking him deeper into your depths, just as he thought you would. You’re always so good for him. He could just picture your humiliated face as he slaps his cock around your cheeks, wiping your tears and his cum around your skin. He knows you’re a pretty crier, and he’s never wanted anything more than to see those tears be caused by him.

Another finger is pushed in. Then a third. But he knows you can take it – knows that you’d be able to take everything he gives you.

When your thighs begin to stiffen and you clench around his fingers—the tell-tale sign that you’re close to completion—he stops.

He shoots off another text. ‘What a horny fucking slut, getting fingered in front of her fans like this. I wonder what they’d think if they knew how you were really like. Just a pliant little bitch who’s always ready to slut herself out at her manager’s every whim. Don’t tell me you think you deserve to cum just because you want to?’

Above, he can hear your sardonic chuckles as your knuckles wrap against the table in obvious frustration.

“I know this was a short one, but I have to go practice. I’m sorry for leaving you guys hanging,” you say with blatant venom, kicking his shoulder beneath the table. “Bye!”

He pinches your thigh in retaliation.

Before you can kick him again, he stills your leg with a firm grip.

Accepting your loss with a sigh, you rush to turn the live off, gaping at him when emerges from where he’d knelt. “What was that for?”

He grins, gums showing. “Revenge for what happened in the car. I was scolded by upper management for bringing you late, y’know?”

You punch his shoulder. “At least I let you cum… asshole. This is the second time you’ve blue-balled me.”

“Good thing I prepared this, then.” In his hand is another carton of orange juice. “Peace offering?”

“If a thousand won juice is your form of a white flag then I must say you’re quite stingy.”

“Hey, you’re the rich one in our relationship.”

“Oh, so we have a relationship now?”

His smile drops slightly as he rubs his nape. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.” Though you’re smiling, your eyes are serious, searching his for an answer that he knows he’s not yet ready to give. “I-”

He grabs your hand and places the carton in your grasp. “I’ll get you two orange juices next time, alright?”

‘Next time’, he thinks. It’s the closest thing to an answer he can give you.

The establishment of your newfound ‘relationship’ was one suffused with clandestine trysts in storage rooms and cars, and yet it had never gone past touching and tasting as if it were an unspoken rule. You sensed it in the hesitancy upon which he laid kisses across your neck and jaw, never moving upwards. There was a fragility to his movements that gave you pause as time went on and words left unspoken remained so. Taehyung was gentle even when he called you his whore, and what began as ways to relieve each others’ stress led to hours spent in the afterglow talking about anything under the weather.

What you appreciated most (even more than the times he’d go down on you for hours) were the rare glimpses into his thoughts when he’d let his guard down. His rants about how his friends sucked ass at gaming, him bringing the new mechanical keyboard he’d splurged on just to show off to you his custom-made keys, him quitting smoking when you nagged about the smell and how he subsequently would complain to you about withdrawals before having you suck him off to relieve his other urges.

You wanted to lurk upon every crevice of his mind, know every secret he held close, and you know he craved it just the same. You each felt the devastation of fear, hesitation; you shared moments lovely and small, sat beneath midnight stars in the back of his car, insignificant in the face of endlessness. A month in each other’s company and you’d grown to understand that you wanted more from him than carnality.

It is why it is no surprise to you to find his glare pointed towards the man you’re flirting with. In an effort to leave practice early to meet with friends, your hand lingers on your instructor’s arm, pleading desperation alongside a promise to work twice as hard the next day. Men are easy that way, and the next thing you know he gives you permission with a nod.

…And on the other hand, there are men like Taehyung.

“You really think you’re getting out of it that easily?”

You point at the emptied room. “Seems so.”

He scoffs with crossed arms, the definition of intimidation with his bangs casting shadows across his eyes. “You’ve been getting out of breath too quickly during dry runs.”

“I’ve been getting exercise through other means, don’t worry.” Your eyebrows wiggle.

“I’m sure your newly developed neck and hand muscles will help after hours of performing.”

“I think you’re just jealous,” you say.

His laugh is hollow, forced from the depths of some aching thing. “And why would I feel that?”

“Because you like me but you don’t want to admit it,” you say with a shrug. “And you use the whole ‘manager and idol’ thing as an excuse when really you’re just a pussy.”

There is little he can do to hinder the shocked guffaw that parts his lips at your blunt observation. “Confident, are we?”

“Very, actually.”

He shakes his head but smiles in exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”

“A lot of things, I hope.” You wrap your hands around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

“I thought you had somewhere to be.” His nose brushes against your neck, the warmth of his breath scattering goosebumps across your skin.

“My friends can wait,” you say. “I can bless them with the honor of my presence in another hour or two.”

“Oh, am I supposed to be honored that you’re choosing to spend time with me, then?”

“Don’t you know how charitable I am even if you can be kind of a dick sometimes. Or, well, all the time. But that’s just semantics.”

He hums in response, arms around your waist tightening.

“You never answered my question,” you remind him.

His brow raises. “And you never answered mine: do you really think I’m going to just let you play hooky?”

“Well, I was hoping to offer you something a little more fun than watching me exercise.” You trail your hand down his arm, nails scratching along his veins.

“Oh,” he scoffs. “Is that the same thing you were offering him?”

“I’m yours, aren’t I?”

He tilts your chin upwards. “You wanna be my object tonight, baby? Is that what you’re saying?” Taehyung tended to be all bark but no bite, but the embers lit beneath his pupils indicated that this time would be different.

“Is that even a question?” you reply.

You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, only to be met with: “Then do fifty jumping jacks. Now.”

“You’re joking, but I thought-”

“Objects aren’t supposed to think. They just do as they’re commanded... Or so your favorite erotic novel alpha males always say.”

You give him a pointed look. “Yeah, the key word being ‘erotic novel’, not ‘workout manual’.”

He holds his hands up beside his head in defense, making a face. “I’m doing this for you. And besides…” He takes a step towards you, caressing your chest. “We can always multitask.”

You groan but comply, though the feeling of doing that specific exercise is tantalizingly embarrassing when he’s watching you so closely.

“Sweating already?” He moves to stand behind you, observing from the mirror. “Let me help you.”

He stills your movement to reach around and unzip your hoodie, pulling the sleeves off your arms. Underneath, you’re only wearing a flimsy white shirt coated with sweat, leaving it transparent enough for Taehyung to see your red sports bra.

He presses his mouth to your ear and whispers, “Did I say you were finished, slut?” He laughs. “Don’t look surprised. What else could you be with your tits bouncing everywhere. The fact that you can’t even comprehend what I’m saying is just proving my point.”

You almost regret sharing with him your favorite romance books. Almost. If only because of the way your knees buckle at his degradation.

You continue the motions and Taehyung does little to disguise how he watches your chest as it bounces with every jump. With your arms outstretched, there is nothing to cover the jiggling weight.

Neither of you are keeping count but after two minutes he ceases your movement with a firm “stop”.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Want to play another one? I’ll reach into your panties and if you’re wet, you’ll be my personal little slut. Are you willing to take that bet, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you say without further thought, and his hands dip into your leggings and past your underwear. You already know the answer, have known it since the moment he’d walked into the room with his heavy gaze on your body.

“Oh, you’re soaking, baby,” he purrs into your neck, his fingers caressing your folds but not applying the direct pressure that your humping hips seek. “Does your pussy like the thought of being owned by me?”

His hands still with the promise of moving only when you reply. “Yes,” you cry. “I want to be your personal… I want to be your personal slut. Just please… Touch me.”

“You think you deserve to be touched for your pleasure? Are you forgetting what you’re supposed to be doing right now?”

He retracts his hand but you rush to grip his wrist. “Tae, please. I need it so bad.”

“Need what, baby?” he coos, ever softened when you use his nickname.

“I need you to finger me. To make me cum.”

To your surprise he complies, shoving two into your snatch. His fingers scissor you, stretching you out. He pushes another in, all three pushing in and out of you, making disgusting and lewd sounds.

“Aren’t idols supposed to be pure and innocent? I’m ruining you, aren’t I, slut? What would your precious fans think if they knew you liked being a whore for your manager? They’d probably lose all respect for you. Your latest stage outfit was a pretty little number too. Probably had all your fans jerking their little dicks off to your fancams. I just know if I searched your name up the first thing I’d see is some asshole doing a cum tribute to you.” He laughs. “Too bad for them they’ll never know just how tight and wet your pussy is, because I own it now, right?”

“You’ve always owned me– Fuck!” You yelp when Taehyung bites your neck. Your makeup artists were definitely going to have a hard time covering that up. “I love the way you control me so easily.”

“If you weren’t such a brat all the time it’d be a lot easier.” The speed in which his fingers met your g-spot increased. “You always seemed so uptight. Did you ever expect that you’d get played around with by your manager? The other staff members would love to know that you’re into this kinky shit. Especially your fans. Everyone’s always talking about how sexy you are but I bet you know that, don’t you? You thrive on it – want everyone to jerk off to you.”

To your dismay, he pulls out. “You were complaining about your sore throat earlier, weren’t you? I know a good solution for that.”

He tugs you by the back of your neck, moving you closer to his crotch. He pulls down the zipper, releasing the familiar length of his cock. You run your hands from the tip to his balls as if driven by pure instinct, wrought only with the need for proximity. Taking the head into your mouth, you slowly begin to swallow him until it reaches your throat. As he’d taught you, you let him deepthroat for a bit before releasing him with a gasp for air.

Patting your head, he encourages you to keep going. “What a perfect fleshlight. Born to suck cock.”

It is an all-consuming task, leaving room for little else in your mind as you make sure to avoid your teeth from scraping him as well taking note of when to suction and when to draw him deeper into your throat.

He groans with every ministration. “Doing so good for me, baby. Always my perfect slut, so good at taking dick. It’s like you were meant for it. Meant to have your throat pussy be my cum dump. At this point, this should be your job.” You look up and meet his eyes, a twinkling obsidian shade. “Ready for your medicine?”

He grabs the back of your head and takes control of the pace, roughly fucking himself with your throat. His moans grow louder, taking full advantage of the sound-proof nature of the room. You could clearly hear the sounds of your choking, spit drooling down the sides of your mouth as you struggle to keep with his rhythm. The scent of his cock sends you into overdrive, and, though you’re already wet, you feel yourself gush beneath, your pussy clinging to your underwear.

You know well enough, from his pretty groans and tightening grip, that he was about to cum.

“There you go, pretty girl. Your favorite meal. Drink it all up like the depraved cum dump you are.”

You swallow, and gasp, and swallow again. His cum, sticky and bitter, lingers in the back of your throat as you choke for a decent breath of air. It shoots into your mouth, spilling all over your tongue and lips, dripping down the sides. You gag at the taste, coughing up the creamy fluids onto the floor. Your hands tighten on his thighs, struggling to steady your lightheaded self. When he releases your hair from his grasp, you stumble back onto his crotch, heaving breaths against his softening cock.

His thumb wipes sweat from your forehead. “What are you doing, baby?” He grabs the top of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes as tears stream down yours. “That isn’t what sluts do, and I thought we already established that that’s all you are. Objects listen to their owners, don’t they?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you whine, not really apologetic when you know that he knows that cum isn’t exactly your favorite flavor.

He tugs at your hair, lifting you back onto your knees. “You’re acting like I care about what dumb little brats like you want – I don’t. Lick my cum off the floor. Now.” He grins. “And don’t forget that you got some on my boots, too.”

You hesitate, eyeing the strings of white that decorate the wooden panels and the black of his shoes.

“Consider this as punishment for trying to skip out on your exercises.” He crosses his arms, looking down at you with an unimpressed countenance. “So, now, be a good girl and lick my fucking cum off the floor.”

You move your face to the ground and give it kitten licks similar to how you liked to tease Taehyung’s cock. The taste is salty, and you shudder to wonder when the floor was last cleaned. You look up, hoping that that act of obedience is enough to quell his thirst for domination over you. It isn’t.

“I said, clean it up,” he hisses. “Do I really have to grab the back of your head for this? Yeah?” He pushes your head to stay close to the floor. “Don’t just stay there like a stupid bitch. Open your fucking mouth, let me see that tongue. Yeah… There we go, baby.”

You do as he says, collecting his spilt cum.

“All of it,” he groans, watching you debase yourself for his entertainment. “The boots, too.”

You move towards his feet that are impatiently tapping against the floor. Your tongue hesitantly drops out of your mouth, trying to touch as little of it as possible.

Unexpectedly, he presses his shoe against your lips, causing you to deeply lick the length of it in surprise. “You’re not doing a thorough enough job, slut. Don’t disappoint me.”

Once you’ve deemed it spotless you look up to face him. “Is that good enough, your highness?”

He snorts, helping you stand up after having knelt for the better half of an hour. “You mean, was that good enough for you to finally cum?” He reaches between your legs to smack your sensitive pussy, aiming for your swollen clit. “Still want more, baby?”

You nod, whimpering in pain at the unexpected hit.

“Sluts are always horny, aren’t they? Since I’m so good to you, I’ll let you hump against my boot to relieve yourself.”

“Oh, fuck you-”

He grabs you by the chin, tugging you to his face. “Don’t try to hide that you’re an insatiable slut now. I know exactly who you are and what you want. And I know that what you want is to be humiliated like this. Now be a good bitch and fuck yourself on my shoe.”

What’s more humiliating is the speed in which you position yourself below him as you slowly squat down until your crotch brushes against the hard tip. Your hands grip his trousers as you begin humping his boot. You struggle to find enough stimulation, still wearing your underwear and leggings. “Tae,” you whine. “It’s not enough.”

Frustration makes way for pleasure when Taehyung angles his foot up just right. Your moans are relentless now as you buck your hips wildly without rhyme or reason. You are simply a vessel controlled by pleasure, exactly as he wants you.

“Yeah, rub your clit against my shoe like the well-trained slut that you are.” He spits on your face, the fluid dripping down your nose and onto your lips. “You know that I don’t care about your pleasure, right? You’re just an entertaining toy to me. Who owns you?”

“You,” you whine. “You own me, Tae.”

“Then cum, baby.”

Your orgasm is an all-consuming force that possesses your body. It starts at your stomach, that incendiary pulse, before you feel it between your thighs. You can tell that you’ve lost all bodily control by the numbness in your hands and feet and how one second you are humping Taehyung’s shoe and the next you’re laying flat on the ground, his figure towering over you.

Your pussy is still attached to his shoe, and, as if it is an unconscious desire, you continue to move against it until your senses return, reminding you of the pain that overstimulation causes.

He kneels down and lifts his hand, and you aren’t sure what he’s doing until you feel his fingers brush against your cheek, gently wiping away a tear. “You did so well for me, today.”

Rivers trail down your face as you shake your head with what was left of your strength. “I need more.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You meet his gaze. “Tae, I want you to kiss me.”

He blinks, gulps, and stutters, “What?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

Despite everything you’d done together you’d still yet to share that one intimate act. Perhaps because doing so would make everything feel so much more real.

You caress the side of his face, watching as he watches you, hesitant to make the first move. The silent anticipation weighs upon you like honey, dense yet saccharine, and you slowly move closer and closer until you feel his breath on your skin. His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes and back.

“You can kiss me already, you know,” he mutters.

“I’m not the one scared of my feelings,” you say. “I can wait for you as long as it takes.”

And so he does.

When you kiss it simply feels right. His head tilts as you deepen it, licking his bottom lip. Your hands run through his hair, the perm he’d kept when you complimented it one too many times. You kiss him until his bottom lip swells and he kisses you until your mouth is numb. He wrestles your top over you, kissing down your arms before meeting back at your mouth.

There are touches that feel like beginnings and touches that feel like endings, but this one felt so awfully far from either, tucked perfectly between as if whispering of times past and times present. It feels like comfort, his hand on your neck, a grip so gentle that the promise of it was what had you gasping for breath. It is new yet familiar all the same, and when he kisses you harder—pressed against you as if in fear of letting go—you kiss him back with all the same intensity.

When you break apart, he steadies himself with hands wrapped around your waist, hair covering his face as he looks down with astonished laughter. You think that he is gorgeous in a way that makes your heart ache, but it is when he looks up, noticing your admiration, that your breath catches.

You collide once more and there are no more questions, no more waiting.

He lifts his shirt off and tosses it to the side before draping his body across the length of your own. Though the floor is hard against your back, you’re distracted by the rigidity of his muscles pressed against you.

“Do you have a condom?” you remind him.

He curses, standing up. He almost trips over himself in his rush to his bag, rummaging through it for the plastic wrapper. He makes a victorious sound when he finds it, holding it above his head. “Got it!”

You laugh into your hand. “Hurry up, you loser.”

He gets back on top of you, pressing kisses around your face. He kicks off his pants until he’s as naked as you are before positioning himself above your hole.

“Is this okay?” He rubs the head of his cock against your clit.

“More than okay,” you say.

The heat of him sliding into your pussy sparks kindles in your gut. He’s rough yet gentle. Too fast yet too slow. A paradox of sensations encapsulated by the longing gaze in his eyes and the torturous grip he has on your nipples.

He pulls out until only the tip is in before slamming his hips against yours, balls smacking your ass with a clapping sound. He repeats the motion until you’re drooling, rocking back and forth.

“You feel so good,” he moans, moving to grip your tiger-striped thighs. He lowers you until he’s buried balls deep into your warmth, and you can feel his hard length spasming as he adjusts to the tightness. “Feels so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. No one compares to you, baby.”

Despite the thin layer of protection you can feel every vein rub against the soft walls of your cavern. It deliciously fills you up until you’re delirious, drowning in the feeling.

“How many cocks have you had before me?”

“Two.” A friend and a boyfriend – neither of which mattered when the only cock you could think of was Taehyung’s.

“What I would give to have been the one to take your virginity.” He sighs. “Guess I’ll just have to fuck the memory of them out of you.”

His hips begin to thrust into you with a pace you can barely comprehend. The head of his cock reaches so deep, much farther than any cock or toy has ever gone. He pushes into you as if you were a pussy pocket crafted for his pleasure, holding your thighs to your chest in a mating press.

Your breath hitches with every upwards thrust as you struggle to speak. Words swim in your head, a thousand lines of ink dotting across pages like stars that twinkle in and out of existence, unable to catch them before they disappear.

He bites the lobe of your ear, tugging it. His hands caress the entirety of your body with wild abandon, struck with the need to feel you – to ensure that you are really the one beneath him. You, the gravitas of which he orbits.

When you begin twitching underneath him he focuses on hitting your g-spot, lessening the speed. He pulls out then slams back in, repeating it over and over and over. He taps your clit in rapid succession, occasionally rubbing before landing a hard smack against the nub. His other hand goes to your neck, applying pressure to the sides of it. Your mind goes blank. Your legs go numb. Then somewhere between your legs you feel it.

The orgasm is euphoric. You thrash in his hold, the pleasure all too much for your mind and body to take. The feeling is everywhere.

“That’s it, baby.” His thrusts begin to lose rhythm as he chases his own release in wild abandon. “So good for me. Mine. All mine.”

He cums into the condom with one final jerk, burying himself as deep into you as he could. The overstimulation is just enough to not be too painful as he stays inside you for a few moments more, barely able to pull himself out of your warmth.

His eyes are blown wide as he flops to the ground beside you, tying then tossing the condom to the side. “That was…”

“I can’t believe we waited that long to fuck.” The punch you land on his shoulder is weak.

He carries your limp body to the couch he’d massaged you on that fateful month before and gently lays your head against a cushion. Brushing a few strands of hair away from your forehead, he places a kiss on your temple. It’s gentle.

“How are you feeling?” He slips beside you until you’re laying side by side and nudges his nose against your shoulder like a cat seeking attention. “Was I too much?”

“No, it was really good, trust me.” Try as you did, there weren’t words in your vocabulary that could sufficiently explain what you had just experienced.

His eyes flicker the length of figure as if attempting to convince himself that he, indeed, had not accidentally fucked your body to the point of destruction. He pouts but sighs, taking your word for it.

Abashed in the afterglow, he asks once more, “You know I didn’t mean most of what I said, right?”

“Most?” You grin. “So what did you say that you did mean?”

“I’m sure I called you pretty once or twice,” he grumbles, burying his face in your neck.

“You already know that I like it,” you assured him. “You’re always so good to me, Tae.”

His eyes soften as he laughs, the melody of it soothing. “It’s because it’s you. And I like you.”

“If I had known that the way to get you to admit your feelings for me was to fuck you then I would’ve done it ages ago.”

There’s a long pause as he composes himself. His hair tickles your neck, his arm a gentle weight around your stomach, and you feel the warmth of skin not your own.

“Shut up.” His ears are red as he flicks your forehead with faux nonchalance. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

Dizzy in the moment, you reach up to cup his face and kiss him. He meets your lips with a gentle eagerness, trailing his fingertips across your chest and along the grooves of your collarbones.

“I like you, too,” you say. “But I also really, really hate you. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.”

He laughs, pecking your shoulder. “Good thing I’m here to massage you then.”

thank u for reading!! <3 if u liked it let me know ! : ✉

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #bts scenarios #bts x reader #taehyung x y/n

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homerforsure · 11 months ago

Note

Can I request #21 "It's alright, I'm here." for the there was only one bed/sharing a bed prompts? ☺️❤️

Only three months late! But I was feeling inspired by @andavs stunning 6 days of Buddie art (this one in particular) and I finally made some writing happen. <3

ETA: Now on AO3 because I did think of a title after all

The Second Hand Unwinds

The body holds on tight to pain. It’s a trite little phrase that Eddie’s snorted at more than once after hearing it from Frank, from well-meaning “I’ve been where you are” guys at group meetings, and from more than one physical therapist. But the fact that it makes for pretty, marketable word art, doesn’t keep it from being true.

Eddie remembers it whenever an old memory works its way out of the darkness like shrapnel coming to the surface and every time pain flares hot and fresh through scarred-over wounds. His body marks the passing of the seasons, notches carved into his bones as the years pass, and Eddie’s muscles brace themselves hard against the most devastating anniversaries of his life. Usually well before his brain has a chance to notice the date on the calendar.

Every time it happens–every time–he forgets what it feels like. He wakes up one morning and it takes him longer to get out of bed. He rubs his eyes and feels better after a shower and doesn’t think anything more of it. And then he wakes up tired the next day. And the next. Eddie wakes up in a gloom and he remembers tossing and turning so restlessly that he’s not actually sure he even fell asleep.

From there it’s a quick slide into running late, losing patience, making largely inconsequential but stupid mistakes at work. He takes one night off from cooking, then two. Christopher doesn’t go without vegetables or protein or crustless sandwiches or any of the other important parts of the preteen food pyramid but he notices the change. Mentions the change to Buck because it doesn’t occur to him to keep secrets like that (not that Eddie would really want him to) and then Eddie finds himself under the compassionate scrutiny of Buck’s gaze with no idea how to explain himself.

So he attempts a simple batch of lemon chicken to prove he’s alright. Then, when Christopher and Buck crack each other up making exaggerated sour faces at each other over the mostly inedible plates that they dutifully try to eat anyway, Eddie doesn’t laugh. He does the dishes himself and he doesn’t turn around when Buck wraps his arms around his waist from behind and rests a chin on his shoulder in a lemon-scented apology.

His body aches. It aches even when work has been easy and he’s angry and he’s fine but also not and he can’t figure out what’s wrong.

“I’m going to bed,” he says, earlier than usual. “Can you check his homework?”

“Yeah, of course,” Buck answers, getting up from the couch even though Eddie deliberately made his announcement from the far end of the living room. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Just tired.” Eddie waits and accepts the hand on his forehead as Buck checks to see how warm he is, almost looking more worried when he doesn’t find any trace of fever.

Keeping his hand on Eddie’s cheek, he asks, “You’ve been tired a lot lately.”

“Mmm.”

“You’d tell me right? If there was something wrong?”

There’s nothing Eddie can do but nod. He wishes there was something, wishes he knew how to explain it to Buck–to himself for fuck’s sake. He wishes he knew why he’s pulling himself away from Buck’s touch when he wants to melt into it until his body makes sense again.

Buck studies his face, searching for the answers that Eddie can’t give him and then he sighs, gently brushing his hair back before leaning in to kiss him just as gently. “I won’t be up late,” he says. “If you need anything…”

“I will,” Eddie promises.

Fresh spring heat has finally started warming the city and the bedroom is stifling when Eddie closes the door behind him. He cracks both bedroom windows just wide enough to let a breeze in, almost wincing as the smell of jasmine comes in with it, strong enough to make him want to sneeze like a dog does, with his full body and a shake of his head. He leaves the windows anyway, trading one discomfort for another and slides into bed, staring at the whirring blades of the fan until they morph into the shape of their longer, sharper helicopter cousins and stop Eddie’s heart in his chest.

He’s not even in the helicopter. He’s somewhere else. It’s dark and the wind is howling, splattering rain pinging off every surface like flying gravel. Eddie can see through it perfectly. None of the rain streaking down his face impacts his view of the scene at all. He sees Shannon, dressed in sunshine yellow, take a step toward him. Toward the flooded street that’s rushing with whitewater and debris. He screams. But all that comes out of his mouth is blood. When he tries to run, to stop her, to dive in, to rescue her, his legs give out beneath him and he collapses.

A wave crests over the curb and washes Shannon, blood on her clothes and blood on her face, into the river. She vanishes with a choked gasp, reaching for him, and Eddie reaches back, stretching out his hand as far as it will go. There’s blood on his fingers and pooling beneath him and he reaches and reaches, trying to pull himself up, trying to save her, to save both of them, but his body flops uselessly in the rain.

It hurts. And then it doesn’t. And Eddie knows.

He’s going to die.

He’s going to die and he never told Buck- He’s going to die and he hasn’t had enough time with Christopher. He won’t get to explain this to him. He won’t get to see him grow up. He won’t get to see Buck grow old. He’s dying. He’s dying. He’s-

Gasping, Eddie wakes up. It’s still dark; the fan is still spinning. As he struggles to sit up, he can’t get any breath into his lungs. The air is too thick with jasmine, that cloying scent that invades LA every spring, and he puts a hand to his throat like he can claw a fresh opening into his lungs.

So many of Eddie’s worst memories have come in the spring. With this smell in the air. With this light shimmering through the windows. And his body remembers.

“Eddie? Eddie, hey. Eddie, are you okay?” Buck asks, his voice cutting through the fog as one of his strong hands presses between Eddie’s shoulder blades and the other hovers over his thigh. He’s gotten to his knees somehow while Eddie’s been doing all he can just to sit upright and his body is warm and close. That scent of Buck that gets more powerful after he’s been sleeping a while pricks at Eddie’s nose and his windpipe relaxes all at once, finally letting in a mouthful of air.

“That’s it. Just breathe. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you. It was just a dream.”

Eddie can hear how hard Buck is working to keep the fear out of his voice for him and he falls in love just a little bit more in that moment. Turning into Buck’s chest, Eddie lets himself fall into his arms, shoving his freezing hands up the back of Buck’s t-shirt and trying to burrow his way inside. Buck only wobbles for a second as he takes Eddie’s weight and then he cradles him close, one hand sliding up into Eddie’s hair and the other wrapping tight around his body.

“It’s okay. It’s alright; I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe. We’re all safe. Christopher is right down the hall. Everybody is okay.”

Effortlessly, Buck soothes the wounds he knows are most likely to be hurting badly enough to wake Eddie in the middle of the night and the gravel sound of his sleep-rough words almost brings tears to his eyes.

His body remembers this too. It knows safety and comfort and strength enough for all of his heaviness. Eddie breathes in Buck–herbal body wash and the tang of sweat, the familiarity of his skin–and, gradually, the terror of his nightmare melts into exhaustion.

“What do you need?” Buck murmurs, stroking through the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck. “Some water? Or we could watch tv for a while?”

Buck can feel Eddie shake his head against his collarbone, but the words aren’t as far away as they sometimes are on nights like this so Eddie reaches for them. “No. Just this. Just stay with me.”

Keep holding me is what he means, but he already feels delicate enough to shred and that additional vulnerability is just a step too far. Buck understands anyway.

“Want to lay back down?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

It takes a minute–Buck’s knees protest the change as he shifts his weight off of them and the blankets are half tangled and half on the floor from the thrashing both of them have done–but eventually they fold themselves together. On their sides, facing each other, Eddie twines his fingers together with Buck’s and gets a squeeze in return, one that promises that this is something he’ll never wake up and find gone.

The chill eases from his bones and the screaming eases from his memories and Eddie tiptoes cautiously back to the edge of sleep. He’s wavering there, resisting the fall, and he feels the mattress shift and feels it creak as Buck shifts beside him.

His fingers brush Eddie’s cheek again, curling around to tilt his head forward, just the smallest bit, and then Buck presses a kiss to the top of his head. He breathes in deep, like he’s reminding himself of something too, and then there’s another kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers. “We’re okay.”

And all of Eddie believes.

#buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fanfic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #sharing a bed #depression #trauma #nightmares #death mention #should I post this to AO3?#I'd have to title it #I hate titling #allison writes

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vanfleeter · 3 months ago

Text

Bound For Earth: Chapter 2

Characters: Jake Kiszka, Josh Kiszka, Star Warnings: 18+ || Language. Allusions to death. Near death experience (if you squint super hard). Fluff. Brotherly antics. Poor flirting.

Bound For Earth Masterlist

Morning comes quicker than I wanted as the alarm clock rings loudly by my ear. “Off!” I groan before dragging my head up from its resting place on my desk. The tablet was nothing but a black screen. I stayed up late last night updating most of the databases we use on this station. Cracking my neck, I sigh in much needed relief before pushing out of the desk chair and going over to the closet.

The same old clothes too. Several navy blue jumpsuits and black combat boots with my name stitched on each one. The door to my cabin slides open and the robotic clinking sounds as Marvin moves through my room.

“You are awake,” Marvin says, rolling over to me. “I must check your heart rate before you get ready for the day.”

Sighing and rolling my eyes, I turn to face Marvin and pull off my white t-shirt. His metal hand reaches upwards and presses against my chest, just over the spot where my monitor is. Josh has the same one too. There’s nothing wrong with our hearts, they just want to monitor them because we’re the first humans born on Mars. We’re their scientific study.

Can humans born on Mars survive?

Well, we made it this far. Life expectancy could be different here, we could maybe live longer than your average human on Earth, or we might not be as lucky and have a shorter life span. Yet another reason why we can’t leave the planet. If we leave, they won’t have their guinea pigs.

“Heart rate is very good,” Marvin says. “No abnormalities.”

“What about Josh?”

“He is the same. After all, you two are identical twins.”

“For the most part,” I say as I pull my shirt back on and grab a jumpsuit out of the closet.

“Feeling any symptoms of illness?” Marvin asks, his mechanical eyes clicking and whirring as he examines my outer features.

“I don’t have a fever,” I say. “I feel fine. Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that…”

“Just doing my job, sir.” Marvin says as he adjusts his mechanics and moves back towards the cabin door. “Breakfast is ready in the common room.” He glides out of the cabin and the door closes behind him.

Changing into the jumpsuit, I step into my boots before walking over to the mirror. “Good morning, Jacob.” The mirror speaks as it pulls up the weather for Mars. “Sunny day today, but there is a chance for a dust storm.”

“We are due for that.” I say as I run the brush through my hair. “How’s the weather on Earth?”

“Where would you like to know the weather?”

“Houston, Texas. Please.”

“Current weather in Houston, Texas is a high of ninety-eight, but humidity is making the temperature feel like one hundred and four.”

“Massive heatwave.”

“Average weather for Texas these days. They are expected to get some thunderstorms later on in the day. Heavy rain and high winds.”

“Houston, we have a problem..” I joke.

A knock comes on the door followed by Josh’s voice, “Jake, are you awake? You’re gonna miss breakfast.”

“Thanks for the update, Ida.” I say before stepping away from the mirror and opening the door to my cabin. Josh is still there in the hallway and leaning against the opposite wall. “Why do you always have to wait for me?”

“Not really sure what else I’m supposed to do,” He says. “Don’t exactly have friends up here.”

“I don’t think we ever will,” I say, stepping out of my cabin and sliding the door closed. “We’re probably going to die up here before they ever send more people up here.”

“Way to sound optimistic,” Josh says as he pushes off the wall.

I shrug my shoulders and hit the button to open the sliding doors to the next corridor. “Just stating the truth..” I mumble as we trudge on down the corridor and to the next set of doors.

“I may have been eavesdropping on your conversation with Mom last night,” Josh says. “Do you really want to go to Earth?”

“Don’t you?” I ask as I hit the button to open the next set of doors.

“Sort of.. But you’ve heard what they said. It’s risky.”

“So we’ll feel fifty pounds heavier, is that such a bad thing?”

“You know it’s not our weight, Jake,” Josh says. “Our hearts won’t be able to handle that kind of pressure. We’ll be dead before we even get to see the sun set.”

“Now who’s not being optimistic?” I say, raising my brows. “How do they know we won’t survive? How do they know what our bodies will do when we get down there? Hell, they’re still trying to figure out if we’re going to survive on this planet.”

We begin to hear the chatter of voices coming from the common area. Stepping inside the room, we do our usual morning greetings with everyone before hopping in line to get our food. I’ve always wondered if our food tastes the same as it does on Earth, or if it’s not as good. We don’t have freeze dried food like you would typically think of people living in outer space. At least, not anymore. They figured out a way to bring Earth food to Mars and be able to grow it. We mostly have vegetables, still haven’t figured out a way to send chickens and cows into outer space. They tried once, but that didn’t really end very well.

You do not want to know.

So for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we basically live off of green beans, peas, carrots and corn. Our milk is all almond and or soy, whichever crop survives at harvest. Every other year we get treated to freeze dried bacon that they’ll send up with the incoming crew. I sadly consider that a luxury.

“Jake.. Hello-o-o..”

“Hmm?” I turn my attention back towards Josh and he chuckles. “Daydreaming again?”

“What else is there to do?”

“Preferably not choke on your peas.”

I groan and chew on my peas. “And that’s another thing about Earth,” I say. “We can eat other shit besides vegetables. Imagine eating pancakes. Maybe even waffles. One can dream..” I say. “We'd have more options.”

“You are so obsessed.” Josh rolls his eyes.

“I think living up here is slowly making me insane.”

“You have got to get out of your cabin more. When was the last time you took an ATV out?”

I shake my head, “I am not going to be your ticket to go on one again. Mom would yank my helmet off.”

“Come on!” Josh whines. “Just this once, please?”

Rolling my eyes, I take another bite. “Fine…” I immediately pointed my fork at him and locked my eyes with his. “But if we get in trouble, I’m ripping your helmet off myself.”

“Fair..” He shrugs his shoulders. “So tonight after everyone’s in bed?”

“This is not going to end well..”

Clicking my helmet into place, I turn back to face Josh and he gives me two thumbs up. The shit I do for him.

Huffing a breath, I go back to the door and punch in the code to unlock the doors to the station's launchpad. We make our way across the catwalk and towards the ATV. I cringe at the creaky sound of the door as I pull it open. Doesn’t help that this echoes throughout the whole chamber.

Slipping inside the ATV, we quickly buckle up and I get to working starting up this metal contraption. Twisting several knobs and flipping different switches, she finally begins purring and I smile. “Hello Celeste.”

“You named it?” Josh questions from the passenger seat beside me.

“When you don’t have friends, you tend to name stuff.”

“Maybe you do need to go to Earth.” Josh says.

The doors begin to open and I drive the vehicle out and onto the red barren terrain of the planet. Dust flies up behind us as I hit the press my foot down on the pedal. Josh whoops and hollers beside him. A grin breaks out on my face as I whip the handle to the right and take off towards the canyons.

“Isn’t this amazing, Jake?!” Josh calls. “You don’t get this on Earth.”

“Well you sort of do,” I say. “Remember learning about the Grand Canyon?”

“Yeah well, this is better.” Josh says, throwing his arms outwards in a dramatic fashion.

“Earth would be better,” I say as I look out over the horizon. Earth looms just about 140 million miles away from here, on a given average. You can see Earth from here. It looks like a blue-ish marble with little white swirls and tiny specks of green. Sometimes I can see it from my cabin window back at the station. I think most people would be amazed to be able to see such a view. But me? I think of it as torture. Constantly mocking me and reminding me that I’m stuck up here.

“Station Zero to V423, come in. Do you copy?”

“Uh oh,” Josh chuckles. “I guess we’ve been caught.”

I reach up to my helmet and press a button on the side. “V423, copy.” I say in a monotone voice.

“Jacob?!” I hear my mother shout.

Josh and I look at each other and he grimaces. I sigh and press the button again. “Yeah Mom, it’s me.”

“Is your brother with you?”

“Yeah.. And don’t worry he’s fine. We both are. Just thought we’d go for a joyride.”

“I specifically told him that he was not to be on that thing.”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t let anything happen.”

“You sure won’t, because you’re coming back this instant.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn the wheel to the left making a u-turn at the edge of a canyon cliff. Josh laughs loudly as he peers over the side and down into the deep canyon. I pull him back inside the vehicle and glare at him.

“I just told Mom that you’re fine. Don’t call me a liar.”

“But that was awesome!” Josh exclaims. “That canyon was so dark down there. I’m thinking maybe a good four thousand meters.”

“How about we not find out.” I say as I press down on the pedal again.

Making it back to the station, I slowly drove the vehicle back into the garage, immediately seeing Mom and two other crew members standing on either side of her. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she has a disapproving look on her face. Better start preparing for an earful now.

Cutting the engine to the vehicle, we unbuckle and disembark from inside. “I cannot believe you two!” Mom shouts once we take our helmets off. “Taking an ATV out at this hour with no supervision?!”

Supervision? What are we–twelve?

“We don’t need supervision,” Josh says.

“Oh? Need I remind you of how many times you’ve crashed one of these?!”

“I had Jake and he was driving. We were perfectly safe,” Josh says as he starts to unzip the back of my suit. “Well, except for driving so close to the edge of the canyon.” He chuckles. I throw my elbow back behind me, effectively jabbing him in his chest.

“You what?!”

“Mom,” I huff. “I was simply making a u-turn and we came close to the edge. Not even close to falling over.”

“Do I need to ban you from these things too?”

“Wouldn't be the first thing that you keep us from..” I grumble as I step out of the suit.

“Cabins. Now.”

“That was so cool!” Josh exclaims as he falls onto my bed.

“You’re supposed to be in your cabin..” I say as I sit down on my desk chair and start to untie my boots.

“That canyon was so deep! I wonder what would be at the bottom of it.”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

“So grumpy.” Jake chuckles.

“Well that’s what happens when you live on a barren planet for almost thirty years and do the same old stuff.” I say. “Now if you don’t mind, please leave so I can change and go to bed.”

Josh climbs off my bed and walks over to me. “We’re making history up here, Jake. Hell, we are history! The first humans born on Mars!”

“As if I hadn’t heard that a thousand times…” I grumble. I go to sit on the bed and look back up at Josh. “I’m going to Earth on the next trip back there.”

“Are you insane?” Josh says. “They won’t ever let you leave, especially Mom.”

“She doesn’t have to know.”

“You can’t sneak on there without someone finding you. Plus it’s a six to eight month trip. Someone’s bound to find you, either alive and dead inside the engine compartment.”

“So what if they find me? Not like they can just send me back right away.”

Josh rolls his eyes and I smirk. “Say you did successfully make it to Earth, they won’t let you leave the base.”

“Well then I guess I’ll just have to sneak out of there too.”

“You are impossible.” Josh says, shaking his head and heading towards the door.

The next trip back to Earth was happening in two days. The crew that came up this time is replacing the current crew who will be heading back to Earth and back to Explore Tech’s base in Southern Texas. I needed to be on the cruiser. I had to leave this place. There was so much more for me to do and I couldn’t do any of it being stuck here.

That night I dreamt about walking along the beach. I didn’t know where exactly in the world that it was but just that it seemed to go on forever, or so it looked. My feet sunk into the sand with each step that I took. I was holding someone’s hand, I didn’t know who, I never saw her face and I couldn’t hear the words she spoke to me but her hand held mine and she rested her head against my shoulder.

And waking up the next morning, I unfortunately went right back to my normal routine. Except this time, I was coming up with a plan to get onto the cruiser. I couldn’t just put myself on the roster and not be caught.

Typing away on my computer, I pull up one of the crew members. A smirk grows on my face and I click on his file.

“Hello, Charles..” I chuckle. “You might be staying here just a little longer..” Within a few minutes, I have a new badge printing. I am going to be in trouble for this.

A message bubble pops up on my screen.

Star: Are you busy?

I click on the message, pulling up the thread before typing back my response.

Voyager: Not really. What’s up?

Star: Perfect. I have a question.

Voyager: You just asked me one.

Voyager: Shut up.

I can’t help but to smile and type back my response. Voyager: Okay, what’s your question?

Star: When am I ever going to meet you?

Voyager: Soon..

Star: You keep telling me that.. How soon is ‘soon’?

Voyager: Just trust me.

Star: Will you ever show me what you look like? So that when you do come to Texas, I’ll know it's you?

Voyager: I’m afraid if I do, you wouldn’t believe me.

Star: Try me.

Voyager: How about I just tell you my name?

Star: I guess that will suffice.

I smile and lean back in my chair and pull the keyboard with me. Voyager: My name is Jake.

Star: Gee, how common.. Come on, for real.

Voyager: I promise you, my name really is Jake.

Star: Last name?

Star: So I can google you.

Voyager: Oh you definitely wouldn’t believe me if you googled my name. You’d be surprised what will show up.

Star: Try me.

Voyager: I still don’t know your name.

Star: Don’t try changing the subject.

Voyager: It’s only fair. I only know you as ‘Star’.

Voyager: Unless that is your name.

Voyager: Then it’s beautiful.

Star: Flirting, are we? 😏

Voyager: Star..

The bubble appeared on the screen as she began to type before it slowly disappeared. It comes back up but disappears again. And then her message finally pops up.

Star: Marlowe, but I prefer Marlie.

Voyager: Last name?

Voyager: So I can google you 😉

Star: Not until you tell me yours.

Voyager: Fair.

Star: So will you?

Voyager: I don’t think so.

Star: You’re so impossible. 🙄

Voyager: So I’ve been told.

My cabin door glides open and I quickly exit out of the message thread and move to the files. “Not coming to breakfast?” Josh says.

“Ever heard of knocking? I don’t barge in on you.”

“Not like you’re doing anything you shouldn’t be. But seriously, come get breakfast with me.”

“Not hungry..”

Josh walks over and leans against the desk with his arms folded across his chest. “Not hungry? Since when?”

“Since breakfast is the same thing every day.”

“Not today!” Josh beams. “They brought up bacon!”

“Whoop–di–do..” I grumble.

“Come on! You love bacon day!”

“Josh, I’m busy..”

“It’s nine in the morning. How are you busy all of sudden?” Star’s message pops up on the screen and I see Josh’s brow lift when he looks at the message. “Who is ‘Star’?”

“No one..” I say as I hide the message.

“Are you talking to someone?” He asks. “Ah! Is it someone here? Into cougars?”

“Shut up,” I say, making him laugh. “And no.. It’s no one here.” I grimace.

“So Earth?” He says. “I’m assuming because her user says ‘Star’ that you don’t know her name?”

“Actually I do,” I say as I sit up and put the keyboard back on the desk and stand up to stretch some. “Her name is Marlie.”

“Ohh, Marlie. Do you know what she looks like?”

“No..”

“Ha!” He laughs and pushes off the desk. “Do you even know if she’s a ‘she’?”

“You have three seconds to leave before I throw you out my window.”

“Fine..” Josh sighs. He walks back over to the door and pushes it open. “I’ll leave, but I’m taking your portion of bacon.”

“No! Just because I’m not hungry now, doesn’t mean I won’t be later.”

“Then you better come and get it..” He says as she slowly steps out of my cabin.

“Touch them and you die.”

“Oooo, first human to be born and die on Mars?” He says. “Definitely making history here.”

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@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @sacredmachine @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jaketlover @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr @stardustsecret @sunandthemoontwinflames @everyglowinthetwilightknows @devilat-thedoor @sparrowofthedawnsworld @josh-iamyour-mama @dannys-dream @peaceloveunitygvf @dayumclarizzel @thetroublegetssoloud71 @jakebrainrot @gretavanfleetmichelle @hollyco @its-interesting-van-kleep @tinydancer40 @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @katuschka @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @fleetingjake @emojakekiszka @literal-dead-leaf @klarxtr @musicislove3389

#bound for earth #sci fi #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fic #gvf #jake gvf

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fandomficsnstuff · 2 months ago

Text

Under The Weather

(Warnings: Angst, death, sickness, more angst and yeah this is kinda angsty, sorry lovelies!<3)

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

“Daisy?... Daisy?” Daryl called out quietly, unlocking the cell, pulling the curtain aside, dropping everything to hurry to her side when he saw how pale she was. “Daisy?... Delilah?!” He gently cupped her cheeks in his hands, feeling the sticky sweat that clung to her and his hand as he gently tapped her cheeks to try and get her to wake up, his heart nearly stopping when she moaned quietly. Then she frowned. She tried to turn her face away and he let out a heavy sigh of relief, slumbing against the ground as he took a second to get a proper hold of himself. And his racing heart. “Daisy? You alright?” he asked, leaning over her as she opened her eyes, barely, to look up at him, shaking her head ever so slightly and he nodded “a’ight, stay put now, a’ight? ’m gonna find Hershel” he stated, gently stroking some of her sweat-filled hair behind her ear so he could better see her face before he got up and jogged outside. It wasn’t long until he returned with Hershel, the elderly man limping inside, sitting down on the bed next to Daisy, studying her, her pale skin, the sweat that clung to her. “Daisy? It’s Hershel, can you hear me?” he asked quietly, watching her barely open her eyes as she nodded, swallowing thickly, her lips dry despite how wet with sweat her skin was. “Now, what’s the matter, hm? Feelin’ a bit under the weather?” he asked as he took her pulse, feeling around the sides of her neck afterwards “‘m cold” she wheezed out, her throat so dry she sounded hoarse and Hershel looked over his shoulder at Daryl who was gnawing at his thumbnail with worry. “Got any water for her?” he asked, Daryl almost running from A to B and then back to A again to give her some bottled water, helping Hershel get her to sit up a little.

“Can you tell me a little bit about your symptoms?” Hershel asked after she had something to drink, Daisy scrunching up her nose “‘m okay-”

“Nah, ya ain’t” Daryl interrupted, Daisy and Daryl staring at each other before Daisy looked away from him, Daryl sighing. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, you know that” Hershel pointed out gently and she hesitated before answering. “My throat hurts but it’s not like I’m going to cough… and I’m cold… my head hurts… and I’m all sweaty” she admitted hesitantly, Hershel nodding as he listened before sighing “sounds like you have a fever” he stated, Daisy frowning, looking at Daryl but Hershel just smirked “never had a fever before?” he asked and she hesitantly shook her head, making Hershel chuckle lightly “you must be the first child in history to reach this far in life without ever experiencing a fever” he joked, Daryl looking at him with a frown “but it ain’t-... it ain’t a ‘fever’, right?” Daryl asked with concern, once again biting his thumbnails.

“Have you been bit?” Hershel asked Daisy, Daisy quickly shaking her head and he nodded, looking up at Daryl “then I doubt it’s that-”

“What if it is?... What if it’s just-... delayed?” Daisy asked quietly, Hershel’s good mood fading a little and he sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her “I don’t think it’s that. I say if it was, then it would’ve happened a long time ago, not two whole years since the first scratch” he stated, soothingly tucking her in “you just rest and get better, get lots to drink” he stated and got up, Daryl standing aside to let the man out, hesitating, looking at Daisy who looked positively terrified under her covers “don’t worry, a’ight? Hershel knows what he’s talkin’ ‘bout. Think you can sleep a little?” he asked and she nodded, making him nod as well “go on then, try ‘n get some sleep” he muttered before walking out to meet Hershel outside “uncle Daryl?” she sat up as much as she could, looking at Daryl who stopped to look at her “lock the gate…” she muttered, Daryl hesitating before nodding, taking in how it seemed to be a great comfort for the young girl “I’ll leave the key in the lock, a’ight? You just gotta reach through ‘n turn it” he stated softly and she nodded, Daryl leaving her to try and keep a normal schedule, knowing it’s what she’d want.

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

Daisy woke up to the arguing outside, one of the voices was her uncle, the southern accent and slightly hoarseness to it made her sure. Another one of the voices was Rick. Then there was Hershel, then Glenn, all of them arguing over something, talking over each other. Daisy got up, wrapped up in her blanket as she walked over, pulling the shower curtain to the side to see them arguing, all of them stopping to stare at her. “What’s going on?” she asked quietly, all of them looking at each other, Daryl scoffing almost with what seemed like disgust, Rick hesitating before looking down at Daisy. “Your uncle says you haven’t been well… have you been coughing?” he asked and she shook her head “no, but-… my throat hurts… and I’m always cold” she admitted, Rick looking at Daryl who shook his head, Rick looking down as he thought things over. “Rick, we can’t” Glenn hissed quietly, Hershel turning to look at him “I agree, but if there’s any chance-”

“Is it about all that gunfire?...”

“Yeah…” Rick answered, Daisy studying him before nodding, looking down “you think I’m ‘sick’ sick…” she muttered, Rick kneeling down to try and catch her gaze, which didn’t work “Daisy, Patrick got sick last night… he died… all that gunfire you heard? Patrick turned and attacked the others in D… we lost a lot of people…”

“You think I’m sick like him…” she muttered, Rick hesitating, looking over his shoulder at Hershel who took a tiny step forward “you were around him, you-”

“Man, that’s bullshit! We all were! I shook his hand, for Christ’s sake! It’s just a fever” Daryl growled with anger, Daisy studying him before letting go of the curtain, some shuffling could be heard in her room and soon she pulled the curtain to the side, reached through the bars and opened the cell door, looking up at the others. She had a make-shift mask on, made up of a shirt with the sleeves tied around her head, her backpack was on her back. Daryl frowned at her and Glenn stepped forward, studying her as he kneeled down “what’s all this?”

“So I don’t infect any of you. Judith is here” she rationalized, Rick trying to hide his smile as he looked to the side, Hershel chuckling lightly “that’s a mighty fine idea, and the backpack?”

“I can’t stay here if I’m sick” she rationalized once more, Daryl studying her before sighing softly, nodding to her backpack “c’mon, take it off.”

“But-”

“Take it off” he watched her as she did as told and he picked it up, swinging it over his shoulder before picking her up, looking at the others with a hint of anger before pushing past them “you gon’ have to be in-... it’s a room with only concrete walls… there’s a metal door-”

“Like isolation?”

“Yeah” he admitted, Daisy chuckling lightly “you can call it ‘isolation’, uncle Daryl, I don’t mind” she muttered, Daryl scoffing lightly, humming “you got everythin’?”

“Yup.”

“Mr. Teddy too?”

“I’m too old for toys…”

“Nah, never too old for Mr. Teddy. You don’t just leave your second in command behind” Daryl almost scolded and she giggled, making him smirk a little “I’ll get ‘im later” he mumbled, taking her to the cell, Glenn having caught up with them after finding a lantern, reaching them just as Daryl was making sure that Daisy was settled in the dark room. Glenn smiled awkwardly at Daryl before gesturing to the room and then the lamp “thought it’d be too dark otherwise” he admitted, Daryl studying him before giving a nod of acceptance and thanks. Glenn reached past Daryl and placed the lamp on the floor, turning it on before looking at Daisy. “It’s just temporary” he comforted, Daisy nodding and Glenn left, Daryl hesitating. “He’s right, it ain’t for forever, just ‘till we got this covered” he stated softly, Daisy nodding and Daryl reached up to untie the shirt from her face but she leaned away. “I don’t want you to get sick… what if Rick gets sick? And Carl? You’ll have to take care of Judith, then” she reasoned, Daryl letting his hand drop with a small smirk and a nod “a’ight… you got everythin’?”

“Mhm.”

“I’mma bring some more of your stuff when I’m bringing Mr. Teddy. He can help carry all the heavy shit” he joked with a completely serious face, as usual, and it made Daisy giggle. Daryl studied her before standing up, leaning over her, kissing her forehead, his eyes shut as he lingered there, heart racing with fear that this would be the last time he saw her. Alive, that is. “I’m okay” she assured, Daryl nodding, giving her head another peck before leaving.

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Daisy frowned as she heard the clanging of metal, at first thinking nothing of it until the sounds of dragging could be heard, her eyes opening and she lifted her head up from the bed and her pillow, sitting up, moving towards the door, standing on her tiptoes to look, her eyes widening when she saw the drag marks in what seemed like blood, her heart racing as she scrambled to crawl under the bed, barely able to fit as she was laying as still as possible, a hand covering her mouth as she heard the sound of another metal door being opened and again it was followed by the sound of dragging shortly after. Daisy hesitated before peeking out from under her bed, heart racing and when she heard approaching footsteps she quickly hid under the bed again. She could hear the footsteps stop outside of the cell she was in. She placed her hand over her mouth as she waited, staying as quiet as possible, her other hand beginning to scratch the scar behind her ear out of nervousness. She waited and waited and waited, waiting to hear those footsteps again, waiting to hear the person walk away and finally, after what felt like hours, they did. They walked away. Daisy waited a few more minutes before peeking her head out again, her hand continuing to scratch at the scar and she decided to hide under the bed again, getting as close to the wall as possible so she couldn’t be seen under the bed from the window.

She stayed under the bed for hours, staying as quiet as possible, she was even on the verge of actually falling asleep when someone woke her up. “Delilah? Delilah??” The sound of Tyreese’s voice made her hesitantly peek out from under the bed, finding him looking into the cell with tears in his eyes and he quickly opened it but she moved to the other end of the cell, making him stop. “You’re not supposed to be here…” she muttered, Tyreese sighing before nodding “I know, I just-... are you okay?”

“I’m sick… I don’t want to make you sick too…”

“I know, but-... are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked with worry and she hesitated before shaking her head, Tyreese nodding “okay… it’s okay… I need you to go back to your cell block-”

“No!”

“Delilah-”

“No! Judith is there!” Daisy snapped, Tyreese nodded with even more tears in his eyes “okay… did you-... did you hear anything?” he asked and Daisy hesitated before nodding, making him nod “wait here, okay? Don’t you go nowhere” he stated before getting up and closing the door, hurrying off and Daisy hesitated before moving to her bed, sitting down on it, waiting.

The second Daryl saw her he opened the door and sat down next to her and pulled her against him, holding her close but she wiggled out of his grip, making him frown “what about Judith?” she asked hesitantly and he almost let out a scoff. God. How the hell was she even closely related to Merle and her mom? And him, for that matter. “She’s a’ight-”

“Only because you’re not sick!”

“A’ight, how’re you feelin’, then? Better?” he asked and she hesitated before nodding, making Rick smile a little “then maybe you can come back to the cell block soon, back to your old room. We’ll give it a few more days. What do you say? Does that sound like a plan?” he asked and she nodded, making him nod and smile “good… I know Carl’s been missing you” he stated with a smirk and Daisy couldn’t help but smile a little “he came by yesterday…”

“I know.”

“I told him to go away because of Judith… is he mad?”

“No. No, not at all” he assured and she smiled a little, nodding “good… I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just-”

“He knows” Rick assured and she smiled, looking up at Daryl “is Karen okay?...”

“That’s actually why we’re here… did you see anything earlier? Hear anything?”

“I heard the doors open… I thought it was Tyreese visiting Karen because she’s his girlfriend and he really likes her… then I heard dragging and after that I heard the other door open and then dragging again…”

“Did you see who it was?”

“No… I hid under the bed so they wouldn’t see me… they stopped outside my door but left…” she admitted, Daryl nodding “you did good, a’ight? Real good” he praised and she gave a brief nod before looking down, fiddling with her hands “you need to leave” she muttered and Rick nodded “you don’t want us to get sick” he stated as though he read her mind and she nodded “what if you stay here too long and get sick?” she rationalized and Daryl studied her before nodding “how’re you feelin’?” Carol asked and Daisy looked up at her, smiling a little “better… I’m not as cold anymore… but my throat still really hurts…”

“That’s good, we’ll get you some more water soon, okay?” she asked and Daisy nodded, Carol returning the small smile that Daisy had on her lips before leaving with the others, closing the door at Daisy’s request.

#TWD #The Walking Dead #Delilah Marston #Daisy Marston #Daryl Dixon #The Walking Dead fanfic #Days Gone By #Carl Grimes #Rick Grimes #Glenn Rhee #Days Gone By-Under The Weather #TWD fic

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all-about-kyu · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x fem!reader (platonic) Genre: fluff, angst Rating: PG

Summary: You wake up terribly sick, and the only one around to help you absolutely hates you. Warnings: language, sickness, Korean honorifics, platonic pet names, minor mental breakdown Word Count: 2,603

Series Masterlist || prev: moving-in ପ next: new friends

You felt like shit. There was no other way to describe it. You just opened your eyes to start the day, but your head is pounding, and your entire body is aching. Still, you shuffle your way out of your room, wrapped in a blanket, to try to stay as comfortable as possible (even if it wasn’t working well). The first person you encounter is Jacob, he can already tell you aren’t feeling your best, but he doesn’t have time to stop and check on you. He was running around trying to get things together to be on his way to his lessons. You give him a half-smile hoping to ease his worry a little bit.

“Why don’t you see if we have any medicine to help with whatever’s going on.” he offers as he slips his shoes on.

You nod, “Who else is awake already, Oppa?” your voice sounds more hoarse than you’d like.

“Almost everyone’s gone for the day. I saw Juyeon half awake in the living room. I think he fell back to sleep. Jaehyun, Sunwoo, and Haknyeon are still here and awake. Let me feel your forehead,” he sighs again, feeling how warm you are, “you should find the thermometer too… I think you might have a fever.”

Your stomach turns, and you aren’t sure if it’s your sickness or the fact that Jaehyun is the only one around to help you out. Jacob senses your discomfort and sighs.

“Just try. I know he hasn’t been the kindest to you. He’s tough to crack, but he doesn’t hate you. Trust me.”

You nod again, bidding him goodbye before slowly moving towards the kitchen. When you pass through the living room, Jacob is right. Juyeon is fast asleep (and snoring) on the couch. He’s already dressed and ready for his day, but it’s clear he wasn’t ready in his own time. You had half a mind to give up on your search for medicine and a thermometer and fall asleep next to him; you don’t, though. Sunwoo is chugging down a coffee, clearly in a rush to be out the door. He would still be asleep if he weren’t meant to leave shortly. Sunwoo barely even spares you a glance as he gets up, shakes Juyeon awake, and the two are out the door. Finally reaching the kitchen, you see Jaehyun peacefully making himself breakfast. You almost feel guilty needing to ask him for help.

Despite living in the same room for nearly a month now, he’s still nasty to you. It started as typical rudeness. Pretending that you don’t exist and ignoring your comments was nothing new. Then things began to shift about a week into sharing the small space. You had minded your business, chatting with Changmin after a long day. Jaehyun was sitting at the desk, earbuds in his ears, studying something. You knew he had been studying Japanese casually, but it could’ve been something else too. Then, he suddenly turned around and yelled at you to be quiet. Changmin tried to get him to calm down and take the blame. Jaehyun wouldn’t hear it, though. Since then, he’s been outright mean to you. It’s not even subtle anymore. He’s gone as far as to offer to cook for the other boys but never offered it to you. It hurts knowing he’s the only one who genuinely hates you.

“Morning, noona!” you hear Haknyeon beam from behind you, breaking you from your stupor.

You wince at his volume, “Hi, Hak…” your voice getting interrupted by a cough.

“You’re sick.”

“No,” you draw out sarcastically, “I’m the healthiest I’ve ever been.”

“Glad your sass is still there.” he teases, “I’m about to head out, but I’m sure Hyung can help!”

Jaehyun grumbles but opens a cabinet by his head, “Thermometer and Tylenol are in here.”

“Thank you, Oppa.” you manage to rasp.

“Try to feel better, noona.” Haknyeon smiles brightly at you again.

You do your best to hum and watch as Hankeyon bounces towards the front door. Then you’re alone with Jaehyun. The kitchen is silent other than the meat sizzling in the pan. Then, just as you’re about to leave, you hear him speak.

“The thermometer and medicine?” he asks.

“Right, thank you, Oppa.” you murmur.

You step next to him and grab the thermometer out of the cabinet to place it in your mouth. You stay there for a few minutes waiting for the device to read your temperature correctly. You whine when it beeps, and you look at the number displayed on the small screen. Jaehyun doesn’t say a word but takes the thermometer out of your hand. Then, he lets out a noise you can’t quite distinguish the meaning of.

“You should stay in bed.” he states plainly.

“But-”

“I don’t have any schedules today. Go to bed.”

You don’t try to fight it again. Of course, you’re a little emotional due to your physical state, but you don’t let Jaehyun see it when you tear up slightly. Instead, you shuffle out of the kitchen and directly back to your bed.

You get comfortable wrapped up in your blankets and find yourself falling into a lull before ultimately falling asleep. You couldn’t have been asleep long, though. You feel someone poking your shoulder, which you quickly discover is Jaehyun. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed, two pills and a glass of water in his hand.

“You never took your medicine.” his voice is still slightly cold, and his facial expression is indiscernible.

You just whine and roll over. You couldn’t be bothered to do anything. He woke you up when you were perfectly fine sleeping.

“Jang Y/n, you roll back over and take the damn medicine.” he raises his voice slightly, “I don’t give a damn if you want to or not. You’re sick, and I’m not risking anything.”

That’s what opens the floodgates. Not only do you roll back over and sit up, but you also start sobbing. His harsh tone was that final thing to tip you over and send you into a flurry of emotions. You don’t see his face; you opt to hide in your hands. It was the only way you could still hide.

“Why do you hate me? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me, Oppa? Tell me, please, let me fix it. I hate that you hate me. I hate that I have to tiptoe around you in my own room. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” your word blubber out between tears.

“Y/n,” his tone is soft.

You hear him set the glass down on the desk nearby your bed. He calls your name again when you don’t look up at him. You shake your head and keep your face hidden. His hands gently wrap around your wrist and pull your hands down. A moment later, he pulls your box of tissues closer, offering them to you.

“I don’t hate you.” he states flatly.

“Why do you treat me so horribly then, Oppa?” you sniffle.

“Take the medicine, then I’ll explain.” he negotiates.

You grumble but put your hand out to take the pills. He chuckles. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in your direction. You curl yourself up in your blanket again, ready to listen. Hopefully, mend whatever may be wrong between you two. Jaehyun gets up and sits on his bed directly across from you. You don’t know why he moved to sit away from you; maybe the space between you made him feel more comfortable. Perhaps it was just that you were sick. He sits with his legs crisscrossed and clears his throat.

“I think I’m just scared.” he starts, “Before you ask, I can’t exactly tell you what I’m scared of. I don’t know if I’m scared to get close to you, or if I’m scared I’ll hurt, or if I’m scared that you being in the group will give us a weird dynamic. I genuinely can’t tell you. I thought being cold to you would keep me from getting hurt or something.” he laughs humorlessly, “It sounds so stupid saying it out loud. I sound like a complete asshole…”

“Jae Oppa,” you sniffle, trying not to let yourself cry again, “I don’t understand what you were scared of. I mean, how could I if you don’t even know. Can we-” you get interrupted with a cough, “Can we at least be civil?”

“Why are you crying?” he asks slightly teasingly.

You hadn’t even realized you had started crying again. You knew it was bound to happen. You’ve always been more emotionally sensitive when you’ve been sick in the past.

“Sorry, I just-”

“Do not apologize for what I was doing.” you hear his tone falter slightly, “It’s my fault.”

A silence falls between you. You don’t know how to respond. He doesn’t seem to want to add anything to what he said. Then, suddenly, you hear slight sniffles from the other side of the room. When you look up, you see Jaehyun wiping away a few tears. You honestly didn’t think you’d ever see the day. Before you can process what you’re doing, you stand up and walk over to him. He looks up at you and moves slightly, allowing you to sit next to him. You wrap your arms around him. The next moment was even more shocking to you. You feel him melt into the hug, wrap his arms around you, and rest his head against the blanket still wrapped around you.

“Let’s be more than civil.” his voice is muffled slightly by the fluffy fabric, “I feel like shit for treating you the way I did.”

“I like that idea.”

The sweet moment doesn’t last, though. Instead, you push Jaehyun off you quickly and cover your mouth as you start coughing again. It reminds you of your current state. Jaehyun walks over to get the glass of water he had brought a bit ago. You thank him and chug the whole glass quickly.

“You should get some more rest.” he smiles gently at you, “You’ll need to get better quick, especially if you want to get back to training.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, “I kinda don’t want to be alone right now.” you admit.

“I could do some studying. I can stay here for a little while you get rest.”

“I’d like that if you don’t mind.”

He nods, “Go get back in your bed and sleep while you can. You know, the moment the others get home, you won’t be able to sleep.”

You giggle slightly and slink back over to your bed. Once you’re comfortable, you glance over to see Jaehyun settle at the desk and pull out that familiar textbook. He puts on soft music to help him focus but not be loud enough to keep you awake. You start to feel that fuzzy, sleepy feeling overtake your body again. You sniffle again, just trying to breathe normally at this point. Jaehyun gently chastises you to blow your nose and not sniffle it back. You tease him saying that he sounds like your mom. From then, you fall into a comfortable silence. For the first time, you feel comfortable in silence with him.

“Hey Jaehyun Oppa,” you call, voice laced with sleepiness.

“Yeah?” he responds, keeping his eyes on the book.

“Thank you.” you nearly whisper.

“For what?” he asks, “I was so incredibly mean to you for no reason.”

“But you’re taking care of me now. Thank you.”

“It’s really not a big deal.”

“It is.” you insist, “Jaehyun Oppa,” you start again; he hums in response, “can you come over here for a minute?”

Jaehyun stands up and makes his way over to you. He sat in the same spot he had when he entered the room. You take note of the much softer expression on his face, and it makes you feel safe.

“Could you-” you stop yourself with a yawn, “Can I just have another hug?”

“How about this? Move over a little; we can cuddle for a little. I clearly have some ground to make up in our relationship.” he offers.

You smile brightly and move over, “That sounds really nice.”

You lift the blanket and let him get comfortable next to you. His arms snake around your waist, holding you close to him. It feels right for him to hold you like this. It feels safe. It feels like home. Soon, that fuzzy, sleepy feeling takes over your body again. You bury your face against the crook of his neck. You vaguely hear him sigh contently before placing a small kiss on the top of your head.

“Sleep well, bub. I’m sorry again for how I treated you.”

You aren’t nearly conscious enough to respond to him. Instead, you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders and let sleep envelop you. Something about Jaehyun’s presence makes you feel calmer. You still feel sick, but you still feel comfortable and safe. This time you have a deep, long sleep.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep. All you know is that when you wake up, Jaehyun is still cuddling with you and asleep. You hear rustling around the dorm, letting you know it’s at least dinner time. No one seems to have come in here yet. Changmin is likely still at the company putting in extra time like he always does. You almost feel like drifting back to sleep until you hear your stomach rumble slightly from hunger. Just as you go to get up, Jaehyun tightens his hold around you, preventing you from moving.

“Jae Oppa,” you giggle lightly, “I need to eat something, and I’m sure I’m due for another dose of medicine.”

“I think you’re getting me sick,” he whines slightly, “we need to stay away from the others if that’s the case.”

“You’re right, but we also need food and medicine.” you reason, “You’d think you were the sick one right now with how you’re acting.” you tease.

You don’t make any move to break out of his hold, though. Instead, your fingers brush through his hair, lulling him back to sleep quickly. Then, suddenly, the door bursts open, and loud voices flood into the space. You knew it was just a matter of time until one of the others came in without knocking. Unfortunately, it was a regular occurrence around here.

“There’s no way.” Hyunjun’s voice is half shocked and half dismissive of the sight he sees, “Eric! You’ll never believe-” his voice trails off as he runs to get the other boy.

“Well, you aren’t going back to sleep now.” you joke.

Eric appears in your doorway suddenly, jaw nearly on the floor with shock. He just stands there for a moment staring at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“When did you-”

“I had a mental breakdown. We’re good now.” you state simply, “I think I got him sick though… we aren’t sure yet since I’m still feverish and he’s half asleep though.”

Eric nods jerkily. Hyunjun laughs at his slightly younger friend’s reaction. They both walk away, and you can assume they spread the news like wildfire. You just smile to yourself and continue to play with Jaehyun’s hair. You do stop for a moment and text Changmin to let him know both his roommates are sick (and ask him to bring the medicine you both need). Finally, it all felt right. Things were settled, and that’s all you could ever want.

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity @kdiarynet

Tag List: @brattybunfornct @jaehunnyy @spiderrenjunfics @umbralhelwolf @ericssmile @honeyhuii

#the boyz fanfic #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #kdiarynet #the boyz x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz comfort hurt #hyunjae fanfic #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae comfort hurt

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let-me-love-you-loki · 1 year ago

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Head Over Feet--Ch. 8

Chapter 8

“How do you do that again?” The kid’s name was Noel, and he was fascinated by one of the videos I’d pulled up from one of our shows. It was Hanger doing the running shooting star press. The kid had asked me to replay it at least a dozen times.

Standing beside him, I watched the kid as he studied the move on the screen. His fingers kept toying with the zipper on his jacket.

“I was never really good at it,” I said honestly. “But basically, you get a short running start and then do a backflip onto the other guy.”

He looked up at me with a furrow in his brow. “But do you lead with your head or your chest or your foot? How do you know you’ll land in the right place?” He tugged his jacket zipper up and down, like it was a nervous tick. “What angle do you do? Can you do the geometry in your head?”

I felt my eyes bulge in surprise. “Geometry? We don’t really think about it that way. At least, I don’t.”

The furrow in Noel’s brow got deeper. “But how do you do it if you don’t do the math?” His frustration was palpable. He tugged his jacket zipper with more force.

I paused the video and sat down in the chair next to where he stood. The sound of the zipper was loud in my ears. “We just feel it. And practice a lot. I mean, a lot! My friend Adam here… he’s done that move hundreds of times. He can tell you exactly how many steps he needs to take and where he’s going to land without looking. He can do it with his eyes closed in his sleep.”

“But—”

For a second, I thought about reaching out to put my hand on his shoulder. But the tension in his features let me know that might not be a good idea.

“It’s like this thing called muscle memory. Right? Like when you do something so often and so many times that you don’t even think about it anymore,” I said slowly. “When Adam does that move, his body kind of does the math for him.”

Noel opened his mouth to speak, but a shadow fell over us before he could. Ellie stood there with a faint smile. She settled her hand in the space between his shoulder blades. When she spoke, her voice was low and soothing.

“It’s time for special, Noel. You don’t want to be late.”

The frustration in his features smoothed out. The fidgeting with his zipper slowed. He looked up at the clock.

“Ms. Kyle, may I go to my special now?”

Ellie smiled and dropped her hand back to her side. “Of course. Don’t forget your bag.”

Noel nodded and went to grab his backpack. He gave Ellie a wave as he walked out. The moment the door closed behind him, she sank into a chair and covered her eyes with her hands.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said, her words muffled behind her fingers.

I laughed before I could stop myself. “Why? The kids were pretty awesome.”

“I meant Noel.”

“Ellie, seriously. He just had questions.” I had the urge to reach out to her. I settled for scooting my chair a little closer. “Hell, I haven’t even thought about geometry in ten years, let alone with a shooting star press!”

She laughed and I couldn’t help but feel my heart racing in my chest. It made something slip down into my toes—this warmth that enveloped me. Ellie let out a faint sigh and took a breath. When she looked back over at me, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Go out with me.” I cringed as the words spilled out. Almost like a demand rather than a request. “I mean—”

“Sure.”

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was blushing.

***

By the time I got home and dropped my bag, I was convinced the whole thing had been some sort of fever dream. There was no way that I’d actually asked Ellie Kyle on a legitimate date. I’d clearly had some bad Taco Bell or something. In reality, I was in some massive hallucination while I was in the emergency room. Or I’d wake up any minute to find that I’d overslept and missed my entire visit to Ellie in the first place.

Groaning, I flopped down on the end of my bed and stared up at the ceiling. I’d barely closed my eyes when my phone went off. Ellie’s name appeared when I clicked on the screen.

Let me know when you want to get together. Thanks again for everything today. -E.

My God. It had really happened.

Heart pounding in my throat, I took a screenshot of the message and sent it to Sam with the words don’t talk about my nuts ever again. After a moment’s thought, I sent the same one to Nick. Maybe that would make both of them leave me alone.

I should have known it wasn’t going to be anywhere near that easy.

Not five seconds later, my ringtone blared through the room.

“What, Sam?” My voice came out a little gruffer than I intended.

Laughter rolled through the line. “Close,” my little brother cackled.

“Oh hell,” I grunted. “I’d rather talk to Sam.”

“I’m here, too!”

The urge to hang up ran through me. It was one thing for Sam to haze me about not dating, but it was something else entirely for my baby brother to back her up.

“When is it?”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t go to Black Bear. Go somewhere nice.”

“Make sure you get a haircut.”

“And clean up those mutton chops!”

“Remember—”

“STOP!” Their rapid-fire questions and comments swam through my head, making it ache. “Jesus, please stop.”

Instantly, silence crackled down the line. It was almost like I could hear them breathing. When I closed my eyes, I could imagine the two of them on the sofa in Sam’s apartment with Nick’s phone on his knee and both with contrite expressions.

“Sorry,” Sam said after a few moments of strained quiet.

I sighed and sat up, my head in my hand. “It’s okay. I’m still surprised as hell myself.”

For half a second, I thought back to that day in LAX when we first met Sam. How I secretly put her number in my phone from the tag on her luggage. I had every intention of asking her out the instant I saw her. But then I saw how my brother looked at her and heard how he talked about her in the days afterward. I couldn’t bring myself to go through with calling and asking her out. Not when it was clear that Nick was already smitten with her after ten minutes.

It was something I was ashamed of, even if no one knew. Truth was I hoped no one ever knew.

“How can we help?” Nick asked evenly. “What d’you need?”

I scrubbed my face with my hand. “Honestly, I don’t have any clue. You know how long it’s been since I’ve been on a date.”

Before I could spiral back into thoughts of Her, Sam’s voice rushed down the line. “It’s dating bootcamp for you then, Matty!”

My head fell forward. I put it between my knees, sure I was going to panic if I didn’t. An ache started behind my eyes, throbbing in time with my heartbeat. “You know what, Sammy? Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

She squealed so loud I nearly threw the phone across the room.

________________

Tag List

@not-that-kinda-gurl08

@lilred91

@imagineall-the-fandoms

@maelloute

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@spaghetti-hoop

@ryantaylorgirl

@mrsmatt

#head over feet #matt jackson #matt jackson fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #young bucks #young bucks fanfiction #ofc #oc #ellie kyle #matt x ellie #danielle kyle #matt x danielle #multi-chapter #elite universe #too late tales AU

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inky-blinky · 1 year ago

Text

Sick:

Wren is sick. She refuses to acknowledge it. Jack takes care of her. It’s cute.

I might edit this later to a y/n thing later. Idk.

Warnings: Uhh… none? Sick protag, and a little bit of Whump? It’s cute.

Wren shuffled into her office, a bottle of cough medicine in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Yrsa followed behind her, staring up at her mistress with concern. Wren set her things down onto one of the tables and took a shot of cough syrup. Her throat aches from coughing, her chest was crackly and tight from the sheer amount of congestion… then there was the fever…

She drew a breath, bracing herself on the table before pushing off towards her desk. She fell into her desk chair, leaning back into the cushion heavily as she stared at the amount of paperwork she had. Bills, sign-offs, blah, blah, blah…

Easy stuff. No effort. No wrestling any creatures into cages or stabbing anyone with needles… paper and pen.

Easy. She could do this.

She sighed, which triggered a coughing fit. Tears sprung to her eyes as the pain from coughing stabbed at her throat.

She dug around in her pockets for her stash of cough drops, and fished one out of the depths. She popped the nasty thing into her mouth and took a small swig of her tea. The warmth spread through her chilled body, making her shiver.

Wren grabbed a pen and pulled her sweater tighter around herself, scooting closer to the desk. So much to do, but god did she feel awful.

Yrsa whined at her side.

“I’m fine, puppy. Just a little cold,” she smiled, sniffling, “I’ll be better by noon, I bet,”

There was a quick tapping at the door and Jack stepped inside, “Hey, kiddo, I’m making a coffee run, d’you want— oh my god, you look fucking awful,” he laughed, “Holy shit, did a vampire come and steal all your color? Goddamn,”

Wren scoffed, “‘m fine,” the congestion snubbed the end of the word, giving it a distinct “d” sound at the end.

Jack strode into the room, “Anyone who can’t pronounce fine correctly isn’t find,” he mocked her pronunciation, “You should be at home,” he stopped at her desk, hands in his pockets.

She shook her head, “No, I’m f— I’m good,” she clicked her pen impatiently, “Just a little cold,”

“Mmmhm sure, princess, whatever you say,” he studied her, an amused smile on his lips.

“Goddamn right whatever I say,” she mumbled, “But thank you for the coffee offer. I’ve got tea,” she gestured to her cup.

Jack reached over, pressing the back of his fingers to her cheek, “Yeah, you’ve got a fever too,” he said, ignoring her, “Seriously, sweetheart. Go to bed,”

“I’m perfectly capable of working today,”

He shrugged, “Fine, but I’m not carrying your dumb ass home,”

“I won’t need you to carry me home. It’s just a paperwork day, so—“

“It’s never just a paperwork day,”

“Don’t you have your own job to do?” Wren snapped.

“I do, but this is more interesting,”

“Get out,”

“Fine,” he looked down at Yrsa, “Come get me if she gets worse,” he winked.

Yrsa cocked her head to the side.

“Don’t order Yrsa around, asshole. Go do something productive,” she pointed to the door, “Out, Jack,”

Jack laughed and strolled out, “I’m across the hall if you wanna admit I’m right and you’re wrong,” he called before shutting the door behind him.

Wren scowled and started back on her paperwork.

She moved slowly and methodically, her mind not at all processing what she was actually doing. She moved in a fog, whether it was the cough medicine or her fever, she wasn’t sure, but damn. Maybe Jack was right—

Wren pushed the thought aside. No, Jack was not right. He’s never right, and she refused to let him be right. Especially about this.

Her Echo chimed, and Wren set her pen down before picking up the device.

Saw you come in. You look like shit, Dove. You good?

—KeenWeen

I’m FINE. Just a cold.

—WW

Uhuh. Sure. I can cover for you? Seriously.

—KeenWeen

Oh my gods, I’m fine. Seriously. Jack tell you to convince me to go home? Honestly. -_-

—WW

If Jack’s trying to get you to go home, girl you must be doing awful.

—KeenWeen

I’m ignoring you, Peach.

—WW

Wren sat the Echo down and checked the time. It’s only been a little over an hour. Ugh.

She clicked into her email and scanned her inbox for anything important. There was one from Tassiter, and Wren internally groaned. He wanted an update on the bullymong study.

Fuck.

She typed out an email, attaching the file and sending it off, hoping it would be enough.

Actually, this reminded her of something she needed to check on in their enclosure.

Wren sighed and pushed away from her desk and stood, immediately falling back into her chair as her head swirled.

Woah.

She braced herself on her desk before trying again. She stood and waited a moment before moving away from the desk. She pulled her sweater tighter around herself and moved out to the hall with Yrsa at her side.

Jack’s door was open, but he wasn’t paying attention to the outside.

Wren tiptoed out of her office, not wanting to attract his attention. Unfortunately, that’s when a coughing fit triggered in her throat.

She covered her mouth and hurried past as Jack poked his head out of the office.

“Go home!”

“Never!”

She headed down to the containment unit, waving at Keen as she passed. Keen gave her a disappointed look, which Wren ignored.

Wren scanned her badge at the door and waited as they slid open, revealing the kid-mong’s enclosure. She stepped into the barrier portion of the frigid room and closed the door behind her.

The room was long and short, giving the little creature enough room to wander through its snowy enclosure. This was one of the many creatures Wren was raising for study.

“Hi, Tremor,” Wren said kindly, “Just checking in,”

The ugly thing looked up at her, showing nothing but indifference. Wren understood— poor thing was taken from her colony. Wren had hoped to find an abandoned one, or simply an orphan, but this was what she was brought.

She didn’t protest, as she knew they’d just kill the colony and then say that the beast was abandoned now, since that’s how Hyperion did business.

Wren crouched down before the shield, watching.

The beast growled at her, lunging towards the shield and bouncing off it painfully.

Wren sighed, “Alright, maybe next time,” she straightened up, momentarily losing balance.

Yrsa butted her head into Wren’s side to help keep balance.

“Thanks,” she muttered, patting the Skag’s side.

The pair headed back to her office. Wren plopped back into her chair, exhausted from the small walk. She leaned onto her desk, pen poised over the papers.

Everything hurt, and now her stomach was starting to twist uncomfortably. Great.

She took a sip of her tea, hoping that would settle her stomach some.

It did not.

She stared down at the words in front of her, trying to focus on what they said but only saw a jumble of nonsense. Wren laid her head onto the desk, groaning. This was stupid. Her head pounded, her throat ached, her muscles were achy, her stomach was… god. She didn’t want to think about it. It made it worse.

Wren never got sick. Ever.

It was one of her stupid things she took pride in. Healthy, and always looking put together.

She shut her eyes, forehead resting on the desk. Gods, she was so tired. Maybe just… a little nap?

She pushed herself up off the table abruptly. No.

No, she would not— she couldn’t. Too much to do— she should not have pushed herself up so fast.

Her head swirled, adding to the nausea. She stumbled out of her chair and headed for the bathroom, where she profusely vomited into the toilet— just barely making it.

She collapsed there beside the porcelain toilet, feeling like an idiot. She puked again, throwing up all the water and tea she had in her system.

What a prideful idiot.

Yrsa whined, nudging her head into Wren’s arm.

Wren sighed deeply with defeat. She was sick. Jack was right. Keen was right.

She needed to go home.

“Go get Jack,” Wren mumbled, her eyes closed as she leaned against the toilet with her forearm.

Yrsa snorted and trotted off, her claws clicking against the tile floor as she did as she was told. The claws retreated down the hall and faded away, leaving Wren alone.

It was a good minute before she heard footsteps enter the bathroom.

“God, you look awful,” Jack said mockingly, “Seriously, kiddo,”

“Shut up and help me,”

He laughed softly, “C’mon, I’ll take you home,” he held out his hands for her to take. She took them, and he helped her to her feet.

She smiled weakly, “Thanks,”

“Let’s go, pumpkin,” he led her out of the bathroom, his arm around her waist for support.

Wren said nothing, using all of her willpower to stay awake.

“Man… You’re burning up,” He said as he walked her to her apartment, where she promptly collapsed. He caught her before she hit the ground.

“Yeah, that’s about what I expected,” he mumbled as he moved to carry her. He took her inside, carrying her bridal-style to her bedroom. He took off her shoes and sweatshirt before tucking her into bed. He smoothed her hair and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. He pressed his hand to her forehead again, and cussed silently in search of a thermometer. He dug around in her bathroom cabinets and drawers until he found one.

He came back to Wren sitting up in bed.

“No, you lay your ass down right now,” he ordered, “And stick this in your mouth,”

“Why? We both know I have a fever,“

“I need to know if I should take you to the doctor or not,” he held out the thermometer, looking at her seriously.

She sighed and stuck the stupid thing in her mouth. Jack watched the numbers rise all the way to 102.9 before it beeped.

“102.9, kiddo. That’s… have you taken anything for your fever?”

She shook her head and Jack laughed dryly.

“No wonder you passed out,” he grumbled, “I’ll be back,” he moved to leave the room, once he reached the door he turned and pointed at her, “Stay,” he ordered.

Wren set the thermometer on the table and settled into bed, laying on her back, her pillows stacked behind her. Yrsa hopped up into bed with her and curled up beside Wren, her head resting on her friend’s leg.

It was a long time before Jack returned. He carried a couple bags— one was Wren’s work bag, and the other was from the corner store nearby.

He sat on the edge of the bed beside her, “‘Kay, so, I got you… some fever stuff, and… I know you’re coughing and there’s obviously some shit in your lungs so I got more cough syrup since you were basically out…” he took each one out as he spoke, “I got you… this book, because it’s got a sexy dude on the front, and I thought you might want a little spice if you’re not feeling good…” he set the book onto the table beside her and winked.

Wren laughed, “Because that’s the only criteria for reading,”

“Exactly. Then… I know you’re probably not hungry but I got you some soup and this… drink…” he shrugged, looking at it, “I dunno, you like blue, right?”

“I do,”

“Good because I wasn’t going back,” he teased.

Wren reached for the fever meds and popped a couple tabs and washed it down with the blue mystery drink.

“Good, take the other shit too,” he ordered, pointing at the cough medicine, “And then get some sleep. I’ll check on you around lunch, alright?”

“You don’t have to do that,”

“Yes, I do. As your boyfriend, I am legally obligated,”

“You’re not my boyfriend,”

“Not yet. It’s practice for later,” he winked.

Wren rolled her eyes, “You’re wasting your time,”

“Nah, it’s… an investment,” he shrugged, “Besides, if you die from this cold or whatever, then I might get some asshole across the hall rather than someone fun,”

She scowled, “I’m not fun,”

“Not right now, yeah,” he patted her leg and stood, “See you in…” he checked his watch, “Three-ish hours. Don’t die,”

Wren snorted, unscrewing the cough medicine’s cap, “I’ll try not to,” she knocked back a shot of the nasty stuff and made a face.

Jack laughed at her expression before he left the room.

Wren looked down at the spread he had brought her and smiled to herself.

“Guess he’s not such an ass, huh?” Wren murmured to Yrsa, stroking the Skag’s hide along her face. Yrsa let out a soft sound in her throat almost as though in agreement. Wren settled deeper into bed and closer her eyes as the meds washed over her mind, sending her off into a dreamless sleep.

Wren woke to the scent of something wonderful and warm. Something clattered in the kitchen, followed by Jack’s voice.

“Son of a bitch,” he cussed, “No, Yrsa— Goddamnit, get that out of your mouth!”

Wren laughed quietly, but her laughter morphed into a coughing fit. She plucked a tissue from the box and spit a wad of nastiness into it before tossing the offensive thing into the trash can beside her bed—

She frowned.

That wasn’t there before. Nor were the tissues.

How long has Jack been here? How long was she asleep?

She checked her Echo and relaxed. Four hours. It wasn’t so bad.

Jack was welcome in her home, of course, especially since they were… friends with benefits now but… the idea of him being in her place so long entertaining himself was… oddly comforting, but strange all the same. She trusted Jack… mostly.

“Yrsa,” Wren called weakly, “C’mere, puppy. Leave him alone,”

“Go back to sleep!” Jack called.

“Yeah, go back to sleep!” Keen said.

“Keen?” Wren said, surprise coloring her voice.

“Don’t get up, I’ll come to you,” Keen called, then she spoke quieter to Jack, “Keep stirring that or it’ll burn,” she ordered before her footsteps sounded down the hall.

Keen smiled brightly, holding a glass of orange juice, “Hey, Dove,” she held the glass out to Wren.

“Hi,” she took the cup.

“Take some meds,” she ordered, pointing at the table, “We’re almost done with your lunch,”

Wren smiled wryly, “We, huh?”

Keen laughed, “I know, I know, but… he wanted to make you something good but apparently he’s,” she raised her voice so he could hear, “practically useless in the kitchen,”

“Suck my dick, Keen!” Jack called back.

Wren laughed and began coughing again. She took a sip of the juice and made a face. Gods, she hated orange juice. At least there was no pulp.

“I thought you liked OJ?”

Wren popped a couple of fever tabs and took another drink, finishing the glass with a disgusted face, “No, I hate it,”

“Told you so!” Jack called, “Apple juice and white grape!”

“At least you didn’t get the pulp kind,” Wren supplied.

“Man knows you better than your bestie does at this point,” Keen muttered with annoyance, “Gotta step up my game,”

“It’s not a competition,”

“It is now,” Keen said sourly.

Wren sighed, “Either way, thanks,”

“Anything for you, girlie. You can always count on Keen,” she winked and sat down beside Wren, “Besides, today was really easy, even with your load on top of mine. Tassiter wanted to see your little Mong, so I showed him Tremor and explained you basically passed out in the bathroom,”

Wren buried her face in her hands, “Why?” She had been prepping for a demonstration for weeks now. Why today?

“Because he wanted to know why I was the one showing him your project,” Keen patted Wren’s leg sympathetically, “You’re allowed to get sick, Wren,”

“Yrsa! No, you can’t— Wren control your Skag! She has my shoe!”

Wren watched Yrsa tear down the hall, running into the bathroom at full speed with Jack running behind her. Yrsa skidded and turned on a dime, leading Jack back out into the living room. Poor thing just wants to play. There was the distinct sound of Jack sliding into the cabinets as he tried to keep up with Yrsa.

“She needs a walk,” Wren said to Keen, “I’ll take her,” she moved to get up.

“No, no, we can get it. Just relax, alright?”

Wren sighed, “Fine. Yrsa, drop it,” she ordered.

Yrsa, now standing outside Wren’s door, dropped the sneaker with shame.

Jack snatched the shoe up, bonking the Skag on the head with it lightly, “A bitch just like your mom,” Jack grumbled, pushing his hair back into place and lumbering back out to the kitchen.

Keen pressed her lips together, “I’ll take her. Food should be done anyway,”

“Thanks,” Wren watched her friend leave, “Yrsa, be good for Keen,”

The Skag huffed a breath and followed the woman out. Keen said something to Jack, and he grumbled something in return. It was funny, hearing them work together for Wren. Two polar opposites coming together for one prideful idiot.

There was a bit of clattering before Wren heard Jack’s footsteps approaching. She pushed herself up, fixing the pillows. She scooted a little so Jack could sit beside her if he wanted.

“‘Kay, so this… is hot as balls, so give it a minute,” He said as he set the two bowls down on the now-crowded table and sat beside her, “How’re you feeling?” He pressed his fingers to her cheek again.

“Like garbage,” Wren shrugged, “But a little better than before,”

“Good, good,” he said awkwardly.

This was so not Jack’s strong suit. The fact he was taking care of her at all was… incredibly sweet. He didn’t have to come back to check on her, but he did. He didn’t have to make her food or get her the necessary supplies, but he did.

“Thank you,” Wren said simply, “You didn’t have to come back and check on me, or… make me soup,”

He shrugged, “Keen did the hard parts,”

“Still,”

“Thing is, princess, you still don’t get that I want to do these things for you,”

She made a face, “Why?”

“Because I like you?”

“Gross,”

“Wow, alright, fuck me I guess,” he laughed.

“Been there, done that,”

“Man, you’re an asshole when you’re sick,”

“I’m an asshole all the time,” she countered.

“True, dunno why I expected any different,”

Wren shrugged, watching the steam rise up from the soup, “I appreciate it though,” she said quietly, “I’m… not good at accepting help,”

“Really? Coulda fooled me,” a thick layer of sarcasm colored his voice.

“I guess… I just don’t get it, y’know? Why you care?” She picked at the loose thread on her comforter, not looking at him, “I’ve been nothing but unavailable and mean… and that’s on a good day,”

Jack shrugged, “I’ve always liked a challenge,”

Wren frowned, “Oh, so I’m just a prize?”

“Yep. A nice shiny trophy to put on my shelf,”

She scowled.

“Have you ever thought that maybe just maybe I like what I see behind the impossible walls you put up?”

“No,”

“Yeah, that tracks,” he picked up his bowl and tested the temp, “Should be cool enough now, pumpkin,”

Wren took the bowl and tested the temp before taking a bite of the thick, creamy soup. Potatoes, carrots, and some meat… she couldn’t taste it very well with her stuffed nose, but she could tell it would be fantastic.

“Alright, Keen makes good food,” Jack admitted, “She’s still a bitch though,”

She laughed, taking another bite. Wren and Jack sat in silence for a while as they ate their food.

Jack set his empty bowl down and looked at Wren, “So, is… is it okay if I stay the night? In case you need me? I’ll stay on the couch,”

“On my shitty couch? You’ll mess up your back,”

“So?”

Wren sighed, “Do you want to stay? Or do you think I want you to?”

“Both? I think?”

Wren laughed quietly, scraping up the last bite, “If it makes you feel better, then yes, you may,”

“Good, because I…” he hesitated, “don’t wanna have to break in just to check on you,”

She studied his face. There was more that he wanted to say. She could tell. She watched over and held his hand, conveying the same words through her touch. He smiled softly as he ran his mismatched eyes over their fingers intertwined together. He didn’t have to say it, and Wren didn’t have to either. It was a silent understanding— a silent confession.

And all it took was Wren to get sick. Go figure.

#handsome jack #borderlands #the borderlands #fanfiction #short fiction #i love them #OC #sick fic #go home if you’re sick B

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selmasemlan · 6 hours ago

Text

Dreams coming true

Summary: The cure discussion continues, and it turns out Luna knows more than she thinks

Pairing: Marcel Gerard x Luna Salvatore (OFC)

Author note: I love a good sibling moment

Warning: none

Word count: 1087

Series Masterlist

Dreams coming true

Luna, Stiles, and Isaac re-entered the Mikaelson mansion just as the air inside reached a fever pitch. They had only been outside a few moments to catch their breath, but the argument within had escalated into a tense standoff. Rebekah and Stefan stood on one side, firm in their desires, while Bonnie and Damon formed a united front on the other. It felt as though the entire room had become a battleground of conflicting wants and needs.

But then, an unexpected voice cut through the tension.

Kol Mikaelson, strolling casually through the door behind them as if he had been waiting for the perfect entrance, looked around with a smug grin. "If I were you, I wouldn’t go looking for that cure," he announced.

Every gaze snapped toward Kol, surprise written across each face. Luna's heartbeat quickened—not from fear, but from a sudden, chilling recognition. There was something off about the way he had warned them, a subtle edge in his tone that set her on high alert.

“And why not?” Damon shot back, his eyebrow arched. “Care to share your wisdom with the class?”

Kol leaned against the wall, looking like he was savoring the moment. “Because if you go looking for that cure, you’re going to find Silas. And trust me, he’s not a complication you want to deal with.”

The name Silas sent a shiver down Luna’s spine, her blood running cold. “How do you know about Silas?” she blurted out, her voice sharper than she intended.

An uneasy silence fell over the room as everyone turned to look at Luna, surprise and confusion mingling in their expressions. Kol’s smirk widened, his gaze locking onto hers as if he had been waiting for her reaction.

“I’ve heard his name whispered by witches across the centuries,” Kol replied, stepping forward as his tone turned almost reverent. “Little whispers of something dark and ancient.” He cocked his head, studying her. “But I have to ask—how do you know about Silas, darling?”

Luna felt the weight of every gaze in the room on her. She hesitated, her mind racing. For weeks, nightmares of Silas had haunted her, but she’d dismissed them as remnants of her battle with the Nogitsune. Hearing Kol speak of Silas as if he were real made it clear that something much darker was stirring.

“I’ve been dreaming about him for weeks,” Luna admitted, her voice steady though her heart was racing. “At first, I thought it was just the aftermath of defeating the Nogitsune, but... now I’m not so sure.”

Kol’s usual playful expression faded for a moment, genuine surprise flitting across his features. “You defeated the Nogitsune?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and admiration.

Luna glanced at Stiles and Isaac, who nodded in silent confirmation. “Yeah, we did,” Stiles said, stepping forward with a slight smile. “It wasn’t exactly easy.”

Stefan’s expression tightened as he looked at Luna, concern clear in his eyes. “What do these dreams mean, Luna? What have you been seeing?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her courage before answering. “I see death, Stefan. I see death walking among the living. Silas—he’s nothing like anything we’ve faced before. If he comes back... it’s going to be a nightmare.”

Rebekah, eyes blazing with determination, stepped forward. “I don’t care about Silas or whatever threat he brings. I want to be human again. I need that cure.”

Luna turned to Rebekah, her expression softening. “It doesn’t work like that, Rebekah.”

Bonnie crossed her arms, confusion etched across her face. “What do you mean? It’s a cure. How could it not work?”

Luna let out a sigh, choosing her words carefully. “It’s not just a vampire cure. It’s an immortality cure. If you take it, all the years you’ve lived will catch up to you in a matter of hours. You won’t just become human—you’ll die.”

The weight of her words hit like a sledgehammer. Rebekah’s hopeful expression crumbled as realization dawned on her. “Die? But... that can’t be right.”

“I’m sorry, Rebekah,” Luna said gently, sympathy in her eyes. “But it’s the truth.”

Kol nodded, his voice serious as he backed her up. “I told you, the cure isn’t worth the trouble. And Silas… he’ll make sure of that.”

He turned his gaze back to Luna, a glint of admiration and curiosity in his eyes. “You’re quite clever, aren’t you? Witches, immortality, defeating ancient spirits… what other secrets are you hiding?”

Before Luna could answer, Stiles and Isaac both stepped forward, standing protectively by her side with a mix of warning and amusement.

“She’s taken, mate,” Isaac said, crossing his arms and giving Kol a pointed look.

Kol raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin spreading across his face. “Alright, alright. No need to be territorial. I’m simply admiring her brilliance.”

Damon, who had been unusually quiet, finally broke his silence. “So, what’s the plan now? No cure, no human Rebekah, and we’ve got Silas to worry about.”

Stefan’s gaze swept over the room as he assessed the gravity of the situation. “We don’t go after the cure. Not now. We need to regroup and figure out a plan.”

Damon nodded in agreement. “Yeah, no cure is worth unleashing Silas.”

Bonnie looked from Stefan to Damon, concern flickering in her eyes. “But what about Elena?”

Damon sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “She’ll survive. Better safe than sorry. Besides, Luna’s never been wrong before.”

Rebekah frowned, her arms crossed. “And how do we know that?”

Damon smirked, glancing at Luna with a knowing look. “Well, let’s just say Luna predicted Stefan would go a little off the rails before his summer trip with Klaus.”

Stiles chuckled softly. “True. I had to talk her down from those nightmares more than once.”

Kol, intrigued, stepped closer to Luna with a curious grin. “So, what else can you do, love?”

Luna’s lips curved into a small, mischievous smile. “There’s not much I can’t do. And what I can’t… well, I haven’t tried yet.”

Kol laughed, his eyes twinkling with delight. “I like you, Luna. You’re full of surprises.”

Stiles and Isaac closed ranks again, standing protectively by her side. Kol raised his hands once more, the grin never leaving his face.

As the tension in the room finally began to ease, Luna took a deep breath, still reeling from the revelations of the night. Silas was no longer just a nightmare—he was a real, imminent threat. Now, they had no choice but to prepare for what was coming.

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writingfool001 · 2 years ago

Note

How about number 9 with our mothering eel, Jade? :3

Your Face is Warmer Than Usual

Prompt: Person A pressing their forehead against Person B's forehead to check if they have a fever.

Stress and the chaos that you deal with ever since you were brought to this strange world. Other than being a therapist, you have to make sure your grades and Grim’s are proficient, play peacemaker, run the errands for Crowley, and make sure you have a roof as well as food to eat. Get up, go to class, do your study, run errands, make sure no crazy accidents happen, make dinner, do more homework, and try to sleep. Not to mention the repairs to the Ramshackle you needed to do and repairs to be made and go work at the Mostro Lounge.

The pattern repeats over and over while getting little sleep and you thought no one would notice, but one did. A certain tall eel noticed you slightly sluggish behavior when he sees you around the school and at work.

He’s read about usual symptoms about humans being ill, his suspicions were correct when you showed up to school with a face mask. He kept a eye on you through out the day and when lunch came, he found you sitting with the first year group.

Ace riling up Sebek and Deuce while Epel tries to stop him as Jack and you just vibin as Grim ate lunch. However, you appear to be fighting a battle against sleep and you were losing. Jade made sure to get some soup to go from the cafeteria before strolling over and picking you up, catching Jack off guard before noticing it was Jade.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into (Y/N) and get them head back to the dorm,” Jack said, causing Jade to raise an eyebrow. “They’ve been struggling through the day, almost blew up the potion in alchemy and have been sneezing nonstop as well as look like they’re about to collapse.”

“Listen Leech,” Jade turned his head to Grim, looking the tall merman dead in the eye. “Take care of my Henchman until I get back after classes.”

He nodded and carried you bridal style and grabbed your bag before leaving the cafeteria to walk back to your dorm.

My fragile human, even going through life threatening situations, you’re so stubborn about stepping down and taking care of yourself. He thought, sighing before smiling as he stared down at your sleeping self. So peaceful.

When he arrived, he quietly opened the door and closed it behind him once he got in which woke you up.

“Jack, I didn’t need you to carry me to class.” You sleepily groan, causing Jade to smile.

“I’m not Jack, my dear.” Your eyes open immediately and look to see Jade’s smiling face.”

“Wait, where am I? Did Azul make you kidnap me? Or are you here to kill me?” You tiredly glare at him, still half asleep as he walked upstairs.

“No Dearest, You’re sick and I noticed that you are only making it worse for yourself, so I took it upon myself to take care of you.” He said, putting you on your bed and grabbed one of the shirts that you stole from him and some sleeping pants. “Now, I’m going to leave to check your kitchen for medicine and you should change then get right into bed.”

“I’m not sick.” You sigh,closing your eyes, and try to get up before a soft sudden pressure against your forehead.

Opening your eyes, you saw Jade looking at you lovingly, causing your face to flush even worse.

“Usually when you blush, your face isn’t this warm,” He smiled before pulling away. “You better be changed by the time I get back or else, dearest~”

#twst fluff #fluff writing event #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #jade leech #twst jade x reader #twst jade #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #gn reader

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honeyabyss · 4 years ago

Text

Mc falling asleep next to them

Lucifer:

he had been working nonstop for hours now and the pile of yet to be read and signed documents wasn't getting any smaller

you had been sitting in his study silently working on your own assignments, that was until you've finished them about an hour ago

pacing his room in boredom and looking at the stuff he keeps in his closets (mostly books, records and demonus)

"Could you stop wandering around, you're irritating me!" Lucifer is stressed, annoyed, etc and your sighs, constant footsteps and opening and closing of closet doors, didn't help him to concentrate

you could have left the room and found something else to do, but you were determined to spend some time with him, as the evening work hours are quite literally the only hours where you can be alone with him

so instead you seeked permission for putting on a record to have at least some entertainment, which was both a good and a bad choice at the same time

yes you had something to enjoy and relax to, but the relaxing part worked a little bit too well

after a good ten minutes you were sleeping peacefully, stretched out all over his sofa with no care in the world

"I'm going to take a small break and get some coffee. Do you want something as well?" Lucifer asked only to be met with silence, which he didn't appreciate

he was about scold you for being rude, when his gaze fell on your sleeping form and the words seemed stuck in his throat

how could you sleep so peacefully right next to one of the strongest demons of hell, he honestly didn't know if he was pleased you found comfort in his presence or if he should be annoyed that you don't take him serious enough

nonetheless you seemed to have a good sleep and as this is often near impossible in the House of Lamentation, he decided to let you sleep

he got himself his coffee and once back in his study he moved his workplace to the small coffee table and took a seat next to you on the sofa

he adjusted your form so you weren't hanging half of the edge and put his coat over your sleeping form for some warmth

"Foolish little lamb, letting your guard down in a house of wolves, good thing I'm here to protect you..."

Mammon:

"And then I, the Great Mammon, made an action movie worthy escape and totally didn't run away in a panic, because Lucifer was chasing me..."

he had been telling you how exactly he got into the situation of hanging from the ceiling once again, as you've tried as careful as possible to cut him free, which was harder then expected with the way he kept moving around

once finally free, he dropped onto the ground, whining about the rope burns he got basically all over his body, though demons heal quicker, it still wasn't a nice feeling

with a sigh you offered him your hand and pulled him up and away to your room to give him some of the salve Satan had made you the last time you had accidentally cut yourself while cooking

you sat a flustered Mammon onto your bed while you went ahead and searched through your bathroom cabinets that were filled with products Asmo had gifted you, when you finally found it you asked Mammon to hold still while you put some salve onto his burned skin

"W-what?! N-no way! I don't need your help, I can do that on my own!" and with that Mammon stormed away with your salve and locked himself into your bathroom

you knew better then to argue at this point, Mammon would do what Mammon wants to do...until he fails and seeks protection behind your back...

be it because he is embarrassed, doesn't know how to open the salve tube, or because there were so many rope burns...but Mammon took quite long to apply the crème, leaving you to wait for him for at least half an hour now

helping out Mammon can become quite tiring, not that you mind helping him or don't like being around him, but a nap sounds nice right now

and so you lay down in your bed, it is after all your room, and just because Mammon is currently camping out in your bathroom, doesn't mean that you can't take a nap

Mammon comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he probably needed a few more minutes to build up courage to face and thank you, but he is met with the sight of you sleeping on your bed

Mammons brain is working overdrive, trying to figure out if he should leave the room quietly, wake you up or stay and watch over you...then again he doesn't want to be seen as a creep by you, but he can't deny that he would like to stay with you

he carefully climbs into bed and pushes you a bit further in so you sleep on the wall side and don't fall off in case you move, it takes five more minutes until Mammon risks putting his arm around you all while holding his breath in anticipation of your rejection, when none comes he settles a little closer to you and falls asleep as well

"Don't worry my human, the Great Mammon is gonna keep you warm and protected in your sleep!"

Bonus: even though you two fall asleep next to each other with only Mammons arm wrapped around you, expect him to wake up on top of you holding you like your his pillow

Leviathan:

it was 5am and Levi and you were currently waiting in line in front of a shop to get your hands on a new limited edition Ruri-Chan figurine

surprisingly enough even though you turned up quite early, there were a good amount of people in front of you

the shop would only open a 9am so you still had a long time to queue in the coldness of the devildom morning

"Ah that is not fair! We planned everything so carefully, it was the perfect timing, why aren't we first in line?" Levi complained while standing on his tiptoes to be able to see and count the demons in front of him, coming to the conclusion that if everyone were to buy one figurine he'd still be able to buy one for himself...and whatever you might want

you weren't the happiest when he told you about his plan a few weeks prior and getting woken up this early you might have been a little slower than usual in getting yourself ready, now that you were here you couldn't help but feel a little guilty

you tried to cheer Levi up with the argument that if you were longer in line that also meant you could spend more time together, which resulted in Levi turning into a blushing but happy mess

you put down the blanket you've brought and made yourself comfortable on it, Levi joining you but looking a bit stiff from the closeness

you ate a breakfast consisting out of sandwiches made with whatever was left after Beels midnight snack, which wasn't much but better than nothing

afterwards as there was still a lot of time to pass you started to play some games on his Switch, trying to stay awake

the emphasis lies on 'trying', because after 2 hours or so you start to fall asleep, eyelids and limbs heavy, you don't have the energy left in you to fight the sleep and so you nod off, your head falling onto Levis shoulder who had been inching closer over the period of time...to be able to better see the Switch display not to be closer to you...

Levi.exe has stopped working

there he sits red as a tomato with Mc sleeping on his shoulder, the queue in front of him starts to pack up and move as the shop gets ready to open up, his Switch display is showing the game over screen, his mind feels fogged over and he has no idea how to react now

Mc just fell asleep and Levi feels guilty to wake them...but they have to move...

"H-hey Mc? T-the line i-is moving? Wake up....please..." his attempts are way to quiet for you to hear and even as he gently shakes your shoulder you do not wake, leaving Levi quiet in a dilemma

"N-no other choice..." he says as he packs up the stuff alone, leaving only you sitting on the cold floor...he can't just leave you here..

Levi turns into his demon form, his hands shaking and eyes flitting across your from and over the crowd of other demons, before he carefully lifts you into his arm, his tail wrapping around you as well for more stabilization, so he has one hand free to carry his shopping bag later

he never bought something faster than that day, he got his figurine and even bought you some anime merch he knew you had stated to like, all while feeling like he was running the worst fever of his life and receiving stares, giggles and smug smiles from way too may people, that was enough attention for at least a century for Levi...but he did like holding you in his arms

"This is not fair! I have to deal with all the embarrassment while you sleep...but I guess it's okay if it's for you..."

Satan:

Satans last anger fit had caused way more damage than usually, it had taken place in the library when Mammon had tried to steal a very rare book about spells, to sell it after he found out how rare it actually is...now that lead to Satan throwing down and emptying almost all bookshelves and kicking Mammon through the room

While Mammon was strung upside down from the ceiling, Satan was forced to clean up the library alone, but you had pity on him as there were quite a lot to clean up, if Lucifer doesn't find out you helped there will be no consequences

Satans opinion about you helping was split, first of all he was really thankful for the help even though he was at fault for the chaos, having to clean up all alone was a bit much, but on second thought Satan was worried that you tried to go against Lucifers orders, he's proud of you for defying his eldest brother but also feels like it's a stupid idea

but you have made your mind up and so while Satan repairs and stands up the shelves, you begin to put the books in, you might not know the exact way they stood like Satan, but for now getting them off the floor is the priority

there aren't many words spoken as you silently work away, only once in a while you point out a book which got a bit more damage, the cover hanging off loosely or a few pages ripped out, you two decide depending on the damage if it can be fixed or not

every now and then Satan asks you to hold a piece of a shelf together while he fixes it, he is surprisingly fast and knows exactly how to repair it...just as if he had to do it more than once in a while...

"Oh Mc? Can you give me the screwdriver? No no that one, the one with the cross head is what I need..." you had no idea there were so many different tools, and wouldn't be the slotted one sufficient if you just angled it right? Satan just laughs and let's you try it for yourself, only for you to fail, he then shows you how to do it correctly guiding you through fixing your first shelf

"The last shelf is standing again, I'll help you with the book now." Satan pointed out, a small ray of hope now that only the books were left, you didn't reply, which honestly wasn't really necessary, but a small affirming noise would have been nice, so Satan tries to keep the 'conversation' going, while he works on the books with his back turned to you

"...you're still ignoring me? Are you angry at me for making such a mess? You know you didn't have to help...you can go, no need to act like all high and mighty!" he was getting angry again, yes he did make a mess, but he didn't do anything to you! Had he? He couldn't remember, but humans might interpret actions and words differently…he didn't want you to be mad at him, and neither did he want to get angry at you, but with you ignoring him it became quite difficult to keep his voice low

having enough and wanting to make up before it gets worse, he makes his way over to you, who was leaning against a shelf with a book in your hand

as he sits down next to you and turns your body to him through a guiding hand on your shoulder, he startles, you fell asleep in a sitting position? That sounds more like something Belphie would do...Isn't that uncomfortable?

You must have been exhausted after filling up three shelves of books and fell asleep midway on your fourth shelf, Satan chuckles amused and relieved you aren't mad at him but simply sleeping

He picks you up and brings you to your room where he lies you down in your bed, covering you with the blanket and hesitantly stroking your hair before going back to cleaning up the library

"Thank you for being so patient with me and helping me! You can rest now and I'll make it up to you later!"

Bonus: he will most definitely take you out on a date of your choice, even if he doesn't enjoy the idea as much as you

Asmodeus:

Asmo had taken you out shopping, as he claimed his wardrobe was not having the right clothes anymore so he had to get new ones fast

he had dragged you through town for the whole day and you two only returned home late in the afternoon, you completely exhausted and ready to drop in your bed, while Asmo while being slightly tired, still insisted on putting on all the clothes and showing them off to you and his followers on Devilgram

he entrusted you with his D.D.D to take some nice amazing shots of him to gain even more followers, though that seemed impossible as it already felt as if the whole population of hell was already subscribed to his account

but as long as all you had to do was hold the D.D.D up and click the screen for a picture, you were fine, you sat down on Asmos bed trying not to disturb the bags of clothes that lay there as well

Asmos screen lit up nearly every few seconds with a new message, how did this man not get crazy with all the message?! And he must check them all, because whenever you write him, he is on and writing back instantly...maybe you should steal his D.D.D from time to time to get him away from it...

While Asmo was changing into new clothes in the bathroom, you could hear him humming a happy tune, clearly in his element and enjoying his time, which made you happy as well, but the exhaustion was still plaguing you and the bed felt unbelievably comfy and on top of that the humming of Asmo was slowly lulling you into sleep

"Oooh Mc~ I especially like this top! Just look how nicely it fits, it shows of my best parts, which are all of me haha...hey Mc?~ Look at me!" Asmo pouted as you stayed put on his bed, and climbed over your form, already expecting you to start pushing him off, only to get concerned when you don't

then he sees your eyes are closed and you seem to be peacefully asleep, he instantly coos at your sweet sleeping expression, the back of his hand caresses you cheeks softly, but you don't react much besides moving a bit into am ore comfy position

Asmo backs off and begins to put down his bags, then he tucks you under his covers and climbs right in with you, pulling you close so that you lie on his chest, his arms encircling you to keep you put

the pictures for Devilgram are forgotten for now, they're not running away anyway, you two can continue another time, but for a beauty nap sounds good

"Oh Mc! You look so cute when you're sleeping...next time tell me you need a break, I'm happy to cuddle you while you're recovering!"

Beelzebub:

you had decided to stay a bit longer at RAD today, because you still had something to discuss with one of the teacher, as well as doing some research for an essay that was due next week

most of the brothers had already left for home or different work related activities, except Beel who had Fangol practice today after school, and as you were not allowed to walk around the Devildom without someone accompanying you for protection, all that was left for you was to wait for Beel to finish his practice, which usually took place for about two hours

you sat down on one of the benches at the side of the field, waving to Beel so he knew you where you were and could keep an eye on you

you worked away on your homework and checked you D.D.D from time to time replying to all the messages you got

the practice seemed to be still not finished even after two hours had passed and you were getting a bit tired from sitting around, but you also couldn't just wander off, Beel might start worry...plus the risk of running into a less friendly demon was still a thing

so you shifted from one position into another not really being able to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench

the ground seemed to be comfier with every minute passing, and so you lay down ignoring the weird looks of the team and trainers, you're body simply wasn't made to sit on this bench longer than necessary

"Here you can wrap yourself in this...it's getting cold. Training is almost over, just hold out a few more minutes!" Beel came over and gave you his jacket and you quickly put it on revelling in his warmth

but here is the problem the jacket made you feel so comfortable that you fell asleep, right on the floor next to a few dozen demons

"We're finished! I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat, any wishes what you want?" Beel was packing his stuff and rambling on about how he could eat at least one year worth of food, training having starved him quite a lot

but when you didn't respond he grew worried and kneeled down next to you, gently resting his hand on your side, he simply laughed when he saw you fell asleep, he is used to it due to Belphie, so he carefully picks you up and carries you home, deciding to order food once there

just Beel giving you a piggy back home, softly smiling to himself and being happy you've come to be so at ease around demons..still at bit worried, but he'll protect you, no worries

"I'll stay by your side until you wake up...and then we can eat lots of good food...please just don't sleep too long or I might have to eat before you wake up."

Belphegor:

so there he was, sleeping, on your bed, in your room, without an invitation...and honestly it wasn't even a surprise anymore, coming home after a work shift at Hell's Kitchen and just wanting to sleep, but no there was no space for you on the bed

I have no idea how, but he manages to occupy the whole bed, and hog blanket and pillows to himself as well

if only he was easy to wake, just to tell him to move over, but no he wouldn't wake up unless you pulled the big guns and nobody wants to face the consequences after one dumped water bottle on his head, it would be a hundred times easier and less dangerous to wake Satan

but you were really tired and just wanted to cuddle into your bed, maybe you could maneuver him with a bit strength..actually forget that...you could always call Beel for help to carry him to his own bed, but by the way he was clinging to your blanket and pillows, that would only end in a empty mattress to sleep on and then you would get cold...

honestly it was his own fault at this point you had threatened him to do it, but he had just laughed it off...

and so you climbed into bed and lay down on top of him, wrapping your arms around him so that you would get at least his body warmth if not the blanket

to your surprise he didn't wake up and he was really comfy, his rhythmic breathing was really relaxing and it didn't take you long to fall asleep

after some time Belphie wakes up with you wrapped around him, he quickly realises that you're asleep, but is stunned nonetheless that you would actually have the guts to sleep on top of him with the risk of waking him up in a bad mood

"That's quite bold of you! You didn't think I will let that slip though, right?" he chuckles amused but shifts nonetheless to make room for you, his embrace is tight, and he hopes just a little bit that you wake up, so he can tease you, but you stay asleep looking content with your new position

"I suppose I could go for another nap...now that I have my favourite pillow with me, sleeping will be even better!" he cuddles you, just like the blanket and pillows...which you don't get any of by the way, but you get Belphie so that's even better, he's gonna keep you warm, don't worry

"You're such a odd human...no idea why I like you...anyway just stay here in my arms and sleep!"

Diavolo:

yesterday was amazing, Dia had taken you to a trip in the human world and you had showed him around, visiting as many places as you two could

what you didn't know was that he had actually sneaked out of the castle to spend time with you

well you didn't know until a very angry Barbatos opened a portal right in front of you two and started lecturing Dia for at least one hour

you felt a bit guilty that you were the indirect cause of this and quickly apologised to him promising to make it up

so here you were in Dias office, overseeing him to do his work so he couldn't sneak out again and Barb didn't have to find him

after all if the reason for sneaking out was right in his room then he had no reason to go, besides the intimidating amount of work left on his desk after yesterdays excurse

Dia worked concentrated for most of the time, only now and then staring out of the window or talking to you

"Isn't it boring to watch me work? I can work alone, I promise to run away...or else Barbatos might get a heart attack from shock of seeing me gone again" he chuckled while signing another document

you reassured you didn't mind sitting next to him in silence, you had a good book borrowed from Satan, tea and cookies from Barbatos and you could stare at Diavolo all day long

your last statement made Dia flush red quite quickly and he tried to distract himself with his work, he slouched over in his chair trying to escape your gaze, but you were having none of it

your arms snaked around his waist and your head came to lean on his shoulder, Dia stiffened not sure how to react he liked the feeling of you hugging him, but now he was scared to move too much as not to disturb you or accidentally hit you with his elbow while trying to write

after a few more documents his eyes flit over to your face, cheek squished against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing calmly

"Mc? Are.. are you sleeping?" he is whispering trying not to be too loud in case you are truly sleeping, and that you are! A soft smile graces his lips, nobody was ever this relaxed around him, he is proud and wants you to stay asleep as long as possible

he keeps working until Barbatos knocks on the door, coming in and announcing to have brought more tea, only to stop when he sees the sight in front him, Mc holding onto Dia, head resting on his shoulder and sleeping, while Dia put his finger to his lips to tell him not to be too loud

you sleep for an hour or so until Dia really has to move, apologising multiple times for having to wake you

"I'm glad you're able to relax around me, please continue to be yourself! My shoulder is always there for you to nap!"

Barbatos:

"You liked the cake that much? I'm flattered! I could teach you how to make it if you'd like?"

you had been over for tea at the castle and the chocolate cake with black-as-hell cherries was the best cake you've ever ate, it was bittersweet in taste not too much sweetness and not too much bitterness, paired with the melting chocolate, you could have eaten the whole cake on your own

you doubt you'd be able to get the same ingredients in the human realm but maybe you could find similar ones, so you were more than willing to learn with Barbatos

and so you arranged to meet the next Sunday afternoon for a baking session

Barb let you into the castle already awaiting you at the door even though you were early

you two worked on the cake, Barb explaining each step carefully, even for the easiest steps he takes his time to explain and help you, being very patient with you no matter how much you screw up

"Next we have to melt the chocolate in a pot. Wait a minute I turn on the stove for you" while you put the chocolate pieces into a pot, Barb moves behind you and turns on the stove, his arms brushing your sides, yet he stays fully focused, what can't be said for you

the cake is put together quickly with you two working together and while it bakes in the oven and the chocolate is meting, you two go ahead and start cutting and coring the rest of the cherries to decorate the cake later

"Here have a taste, they're bitter at first but the aftertaste is nicely sweet!" He holds out a cored cherry for you to taste and eats one himself, smiling gently at you while you sniff at the fruit first, which smells exactly like a normal human world cherry

the only thing left to do is wait for the cake so you two sit down for some tea at a small table in the kitchen, talking about the week, when Diavolo calls for Barb and he quickly excuses himself to help the prince out

the sweet aroma of the baking cake, the warmth of the tea and the very comfy chair you're sitting in, are a dangerous combination making you fall asleep

as Barb returns he sees you with your head lying on your folded arms on the table, clearly asleep, Barb decides to eave you there while cleans the kitchen and checks on the cake half an hour later

"Mc? The cake is ready to be decorated do you want sleep or do you want to help me?" somewhat embarrassed you stand up and help him with the decorations , Barb acts if nothing happened but he can't help but think about your gentle expression while you slept

"Next time I'll let you sleep longer... I wouldn't mind if you visited me for your naps if that meant I could see you more often."

Solomon:

learning magic was many things: exciting, frustrating, dangerous, fun...but sometimes it also was unbelievable boring

like when you think about magic, you think about casting charms, curses, making potions and all that stuff, but nobody told you that beforehand you have to learn everything about the new spell or etc in theory!

so here you were sitting with Solomon as he rambled on about how while the shrinking charm could have really bad side effects if casted wrong, sure it was important to know how to cast it correctly but did you really have to listen on to everything that might go wrong?

listening to all this just make you feel less confident, I mean technically you were practicing with a tea cup to shrink, so shrinking only a part of it wouldn't be too bad of a side effect, but what if you used too much pressure and made the cup explode and you'd hurt Solomon in the process?!

You took a deep breath, which made Solomon stop talking as he looked at you questioningly

"Anything wrong? Already giving up? Is it toom much?" his light teasing was meant to make you relax, but all you could do was give a small, stiff smile, signalling for him to continue and he did, after messing up your hair with his hand giving you a huge grin, but he talked slower now giving you more glances to make sure you were still alright

"How about a small break? I'll make us some tea..." he stood up and made some tea...in a beaker over a Bunsen burner..this weirdo..

the tea didn't taste weird though, it was just normal tea, even though the preparation would have made Barbatos get a stroke

after the break he was back to full tutor mode and your concentration slipped with each new word, until your head falls down, your chin resting on your chest comfortably, you had fallen asleep right before him

Solomon notices instantly that you're asleep and starts laughing so loud that you wake up again, he is crying and gasping for breath at your flustered state and you hit for good measurement on the arm

"Am I that boring? Fine if you're tired you can rest on my bed. I'll read you a bedtime spell book..." he doesn't stop laughing and teases you endlessly, you better be on your toes around him, you won't be hearing the end of this

"Hey sleepyhead? Do you want me to read you into boredom? I won't take pictures of your sleeping and drooling self...No promises made though..."

Simeon:

He was staring blankly at his manuscript, writers block had been plaguing him for quite some while now, but the new chapter had to be sent to the company until next week

you had offered to help him out maybe you could give him some ideas, so he invited you over and let you read the latest chapter so you'd know what had happened

you sat in his room brainstorming ideas on a small extra sheet trying your best to help Simeon out who looked quite lost

"Do you think that would work? Doesn't if feel a bit too rushed? But maybe if we combined these two ideas together..." he seemed to had found something and began to roughly write up a plan for his further writings

he continuously asked you questions about the smallest details, it was kind of cute that he relied so much on you, he probably could have done the rest himself as well, yet he kept involving you into the whole process

while his one hand scribbled like a madman, his other rested on your arm occasionally lightly squeezing it, reminding you that he didn't forget about you

you slowly fell asleep, the sounds of each others breathing, the pen scratching over paper and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, the inly sounds to be heard

"What about this part? How do you think it could go from here?...Mc?" he wasted no time in making sure you were lying comfortably, putting his cloak over your form and still squeezing your arm from time to time while he continued to write late into the night

only then did he notice, the brothers might worry about your absence, should he wake and bring you home? or should he let you sleep here and inform Lucifer about your safety? but the sofa you were currently sitting on, would make your back hurt if you continued to sleep here

it took him some time debating with himself, but came to the conclusion to carry you to his bed and tuck you in, giving you a forehead kiss like he was used to with Luke, only to realise what he'd done and quickly scrambling away in embarrassment to give Lucifer a quick call about the situation

"Have sweet dreams my lamb! I'll be guarding you in any realm, even the dream realm!"

Luke:

Luke, Simeon and you were having a small movie evening, watching some old Disney movies

Simeon didn't allow you to watch something else to protect Luke, but you didn't mind too much

you were having some freshly made desserts by Luke who had worked on them the whole day, as he was very excited for your meetup

you watched a few movies, talking, laughing and joking together, just having fun

"Huh? They called the mean cat Lucifer? Hahah how fitting, he kind of even looks like the real Lucifer! Ah, don't tell him that though!" Luke really liked to compare the different characters to the people he knows, but when there actually were a cat called Lucifer he was quite surprised...who would want their cute pet to be called like a demon? Why not call them angel names? Michael is a pretty cool name...

over the time you became more and more tired and Simeon seemed to notice, suggesting on stopping for today and continuing another time, but Luke convinced you two of one more movie

unfortunately you didn't last the final movie and fell asleep cuddled underneath the blanket between Simeon and Luke

Luke took some time to notice, only seeing it when he turned to you wanting to tell you his opinion about the last scene

"Oh! Simeon... Mc fell asleep..." Simeon already knew, as you had fallen onto his shoulder, not that he minded, he just told Luke to stay quiet and watch the rest of the movie

Luke cuddled up to you to keep you warm and occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were okay, and there cuddled next to you he as well fell asleep...trapping Simeon underneath your combined weight, making it impossible for Simeon to get out of the bed, so you three just slept together that night

"Don't worry Mc! I'll keep all demons away from you while you sleep!"

#obey me headcanons #obey me #swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me shall we date #headcanon

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sunatooru · 3 years ago

Note

hi hello can i request a scenario/drabble for tsukishima, kuroo, oikawa, and akaashi with a fem!so who fainted during their heated argument? their argument would be about s/o being clingy and needy, and always talking and being noisy; turns out the reason she fainted was because of the fever she had early in the morning but didn't tell them about it in order not to be a 'bother' or 'nuisance'... then her fever got really worse during the argument and faints. *cue their boyfriends feeling like shit for all the rude things they said*

i am in need of some angst🪆

Sorry it took so long (I’ve had this since March 😭) but I hope it fills your angst need x

Warning: angst/comfort, gn!Reader, post Timeskip spoilers …are they dramatic?Yes

Tsukishima

It was rare you got to spend time with your boyfriend. Especially as he juggled working and playing volleyball. You wouldn’t miss the chance to be with him for a whole day, even if you woke up feeling like your head was being hammered.

You stayed wrapped around his arm, happily joining him on the sofa. You move to wrap your arms around his torso but he pushes your attempt away. You blink at him in confusion and try again, but fail when he stops you once more.

“Keiii, I want to cuddle..” you pout and he scoffs.

“What’s wrong with you? I finally get a day to relax and instead, I have you clinging to me and being annoying.” He glares at you, making you pull back and your throat tighten.

“I-“ you get cut off

“You what? You’re always trying to push yourself on me. It’s suffocating!” He gets up and walks towards the bedroom, you hot on his heels.

“Kei, can you please be a little quieter? All I want is to spend some time with you…you’re always so busy…” you defend but he kisses his teeth.

“Exactly. I’m always busy, so can you just let me chill out? I don’t need you whining in my ear and having you on me all the time! God, it’s like you need to annoy me!” He shouts at you.

You swallow harshly. Your chest feeling tight as his words ring in your ear. Your head pounding as you feel yourself heat up.

“Kei…I-I don’t…” you try to reach for him but he moves.

“Did you not just hear what I s- hey..hey!” You feel yourself lean forward as your eyes close.

You wake up when you feel something cool on your forehead, opening your eyes slowly to see Kei next to you.

“Kei…”

“Are you okay? You just fainted out of nowhere…why…and I said all those thing-“ you grab his hand.

“I wasn’t feeling well in the morning…I tried to push it away to spend time with you…” he looks at you guiltily, sighing and cupping your hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re not suffocating…everyday I come home, I can’t wait to see you. I don’t know why I said that…I’ve just been so overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I’m sorry baby. ” He confesses.

“I love you so much…I don’t even deserve you.” He whispers, biting his tongue as he looks at you.

“Hmm, I love you too…it’s okay. Can you just hold me, please.” You give him a small smile and he wraps you around him.

Kuroo

It’s that time of year where deadlines need to be met. You watch him scribble on papers and pull at his hair. You could see how tense he was and decided to bring him something hot to sip on.

“Tetsu, you need a break.” You slowly make your way into the room, carrying a hot mug and small snack.

“Can’t. Got to finish finalising the contract.” He informs, crossing out lines and writing again.

You huff and approach him, struggling to find a place to set the tray due to his messy desk.

“Come on. You need to atleast drink something, you’ve been at it for hours now. “ you press, causing him to clench his jaw.

He slams his pen against the desk, startling you before he faces you.

“I just said I need to finish this contract. Of course I’ve been working on it for hours. It’s important. You’ve been coming in and out of the room and disturbing me! I’m busy trying to do my job and you can’t even leave me alone for a few hours? Stop being so clingy all the time!” He fumes, eyes glaring at you as he starts to stand up.

You feel you mouth go dry as his words echo, your vision starting to fade as he finally stands, a rush taking over that you drop the tray. A loud smash of the mug rings in your ear.

“Are you serious- babe! What’s- babe!” Is the last thing you hear before your vision goes black.

You stir when you feel movement besides you. Slowly opening your eyes to see his leg bouncing nervously. He notices you looking and instantly grabs your hand.

“Have you not been eating? Were you waiting for me? Fuck! You fainted, I- what happened?” He rambles, eyes filled with regret.

“I felt a fever in the morning but I didn’t want to tell you because I knew how important your contract was.” You mumble, avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, babe. I was so stressed and occupied with the deal that I forgot about you and said so many regrettable things. Please, I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re not clingy. I love that you’re always watching over me. I promise, I’ll take more care. Of you and me.” He apologises, bring your hand up to kiss it.

“Here drink this.” He hands you a mug, your eyes widening as your remember the one you dropped.

“I cleaned it, don’t worry. I’m sorry. Let’s just get you feeling better, okay. The contract can wait. You’re more important.” You give him a small smile and nod.

He stays besides you until you persuade him you’re better. He kisses and hugs you until you’re both laughing like before.

Oikawa

You always told each other where you were going before leaving. It was something you did for safety. Yet, recently he’d been leaving before you wake up and coming home late. You reasoned it was probably for the upcoming game. The game that would makes his dream come true. But it did hurt that that one routine had started to break.

You had woken up to your head pounding. Your body feeling hotter than usual and the bed empty for another morning. You attempt to shake it off and go on with the day.

You’re surprised when the door open around midday and see Tooru drop his bag.

“Tooru! You’re home!” You run up to hug him but he stops you.

“Sorry, I’m just really sweaty right now.” He kisses your forehead and runs towards the bathroom.

You smile to yourself, quickly fixing lunch, in hopes you would both enjoy together. But instead, you hear him run down and reach for the door again.

“Tooru, where are you going?” You stop him, confusion on your face.

“Ah I just need to go out again. You know the game and practice.” He states grabbing his bag.

“But you just got home. Look, I made you lunch too. You can practice tomorrow. I barely see you recently! You don’t even tell when you’re leaving…” you shout.

“No! I need to go. I need to practice more. I can’t be with you all the time, every day. You’re so needy. Can’t you see how important this is for me? What? I can’t even leave my own house without telling you?” He yells in frustration.

“That’s not the problem. You- you’re not even caring about your health. I just want to make sure you’re okay!” You feel yourself burn up again.

You get closer to him, hands shivering as you feel weak.

“Listen I’m going to training! Don’t wait-“ he’s walking out the door but you reach for him, collapsing against his back.

You hear mumbling and groan as you open your eyes.

“Tooru…” you call out and he’s there in a heartbeat.

“Do you know how high your temperature was? You were burning up! And then you fainted and I-I didn’t know what happening and god if anything happened to you I would never forgive myself.” He cries, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m okay..” you whisper but he shakes his head.

“No you’re not. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” He says, hurt.

“I don’t want to me a nuisance…and you haven’t really been here so I tried to shake off in the morning.” You reply.

“Since morning… please forgive me, baby. Please. I know I’ve been neglecting you and if I was here then you wouldn’t be feeling like this. I’m sorry for what I said. I know i can’t take it back but I wish I could, because it’s not true. You’re not needy. I’m just an idiot who keeps forgetting to appreciate you. Baby, I’m sorry for hurting you.” He sniffles, sitting next to you and pulling you into him.

“Tooru, you’ll get sick too.” You stress but he holds you tighter.

“Just a few more minutes. I’ve missed you too. I promise I won’t leave you and take care of you. Forever.” He kisses you deeply.

Akaashi

The best way you decided to get rid of the fever you woke up with, was to distract yourself doing anything else. You organised yourself desk, bed and even laundry. You could feel yourself getting warmer again and decide to find your boyfriend.

He’s in his study carefully editing a new clients work. He’s usually calm and collected but he’s been on edge due to the pressure from his boss. You watch him take off his glasses and rub his tired eyes. You sigh and walk in.

“Hi darling!” You say cheerfully, only to get a less enthusiastic response.

“You’ve been stuck to the desk the whole day. Come on, talk to me a bit. Think of it as a little break.” You wrap your arms around him from behind.

“I’m almost done. We can talk after.” He whispers.

“Keijiii, I’m so bored please. Plus you need to take some rest. Let’s just talk about something, like I don’t know, where we should travel to? Or maybe anything interesting that happened at work? Come on, I want to spend time with -“ you’re cut off by his stern voice.

“Gosh, why are you so talkative? I’m trying to focus on something and you keep talking and being noisy after I said we can talk later. It’s like you’re trying to annoy me on purpose!” He scrunches his fists and huffs.

“I-I’m just trying to look out for you. You know you need a break too. Don’t yell at me! Sorry I’m so talkative and trying to engage with my boyfriend, who clearly thinks I’m annoying.” You choke out, feeling a little woozy as you start to leave.

“Love, wait! I didn’t mean it…”

“Whatever…I should’ve just stayed in bed-“ you feel your eyes getting heavy, and your knees feeling weak.

“Y/n!”

You wake up a few minutes later to him wiping your face softly. You try to get up but he stops you.

“Easy, let me help.” You can hear the guilt in his voice as he sets your pillow.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you. I let my frustrations take over and put it on you. I want you to know that, I didn’t mean what I said. I should’ve paid more attention and seen you weren’t feeling well.” He fidgets with his hands, scared to look at you.

“Your words hurt, Keiji. Even if you were frustrated, just please take some breaks. You’re going to burnout if you don’t.” You cup his hands and he finally looks up.

“I know. I know, I’ll do better and listen to you. How do you feel?” He presses his hands to both your foreheads.

“Better now that you’re here.”

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melis-writes · 2 years ago

Note

What about Victoria approx two or three years after having the twins, has an unexpected miscarriage (she didn’t know she was even pregnant) and obviously her having it, the blood and pain, screaming for Michael, one of the one times Michael actually gets frightened or emotional and yeah just some really angsty stuff

Angst requested is angst received. 😭 Prepare for some heartbreak in this prompt, you guys. And also a heads up/warning since there’s a miscarriage happening. 🥺💔

“Well, well…” You bite your lip, running your hands down Michael’s matching black waistcoat. “I’m starting to think we should get the tailor to come in here more often.”

A faint, amused smile forms over Michael’s lips momentarily. “You like it?”

“I love it.” You whine, tugging a little on Michael’s silk tie before exhaling softly. “Mm, this is just the cure I need.”

“Funny.” Michael places his hands over your shoulders, rubbing them tenderly before kissing your forehead. “But you still need to rest if you’re feeling ill. Even this isn’t worth getting up for.”

“It’s nothing, baby, don’t worry.” You shake your head. “All I can think of was that I was a little underdressed for the weather last week and there was definitely more than one person with the cold at the theater.”

“Disgusting.” Michael murmurs, pushing a curtain of your hair behind your ear. “I still want to call Doctor Katherine in to take a look at you.”

“There’s no need, really.” You insist, wrapping your arms around Michael’s shoulders. “Nothing some hot soup and green tea never fixed. Esther’s going to bring it up to me after my bath.”

“No hot water.” Michael presses the back of his hand against your forehead—the metal of his wedding band providing momentary coolness against your forehead. “Something cold to rinse off with because it feels like you’re coming down with a fever, baby.”

“I’m fine, darling.” You peck Michael’s lips. “Really. I’ll see how it is when I’m out and if I can feel a full fever coming in, I’ll see Doctor Katherine.”

“Good.” Michael pulls you into his embrace, stealing a kiss over your lips. “I have some paperwork to run through with Tom and if you’re feeling a little better by tonight, we can get some fresh air together on the yacht. It may do you some good.”

“Mm,” you can’t help but smile up at him. “I’d like that very much. One more thing.”

“Yes?” Michael looks at you expectantly.

“Kiss me again?” A playful grins forms over your lips.

“Gladly,” Michael’s warm lips press against yours again as another surge of butterflies rushes through your gut.

When you both pull away from each other and head off to the opposite ends of the estate, you can’t tell if the tingly weakness in your knees is because you feel like you’re coming down with a little bug or if it’s the sight of Michael looking that fine for no reason in his three-piece, new suit.

Once you’re up in the bedroom, you hum quietly to yourself and peek at your reflection in your vanity mirror. You slip off the ribbons holding your hair up and begin to strip down, only feeling more and more uncomfortable by the moment.

You let out a soft sigh, feeling at your forehead again. When Michael touched you just minutes ago, it didn’t feel as hot, but now you find yourself surprised at the prickly sensation of heat hitting you.

All your mind can think of is taking a cold shower and washing the day off of you. You know it’s always done you good and made you feel refreshed. You can always turn on the heater to get nice and cozy after you dress, completely unaware you’re actually coming down with a fever.

The private study is the room directly beneath the bedroom where Michael and Tom are in. The fireplace crackles softly in the background, illuminating the room as Michael leans over Tom’s desk and signs his signature over a new contract sheet.

The two make small talk over the business meeting they had yesterday with Senator Geary’s friends looking to buy some stock at the hotels and resorts Michael owns while you weakly pull a bath towel around yourself.

Shivering and feeling a pulsing sensation in your eyes, you almost limp towards the bathroom painfully. A cramping pain has hit your lower abdomen along with a bloated and heavy feeling as if you’re being dragged down.

Your mouth feels dry and your body grows weaker by the minute with a flaring fever and strong, labour-like contractions now racking over your body.

“Ah,” you cry out quietly as you clutch your stomach, almost tripping into the bathtub.

You inhale sharply from the pain, wrapping both of your arms around your abdomen as to somehow restrain the pain, but it only grows worse and repetitive.

“Mm…” Whimpering, you move towards the sink and turn on the cold water tap, splashing it over your face desperately to cool down.

As cold water soaks over your face and drips down your chin, you gasp loudly as you feel something beginning to trickle down your legs.

The tap continues to run as you take a step back, seeing some sort of strange fluid mixing with blood coming out of you and dripping down your thighs.

“No, no, no…” Shocked and unaware of what to do or what could be causing this, you quickly turn the tap off and throw off your towel, noticing now how heavily you’re bleeding.

“Michael,” you croak out, burdened by the immense cramps and stomach pain intensifying now with blood and fluid beginning to pour of you.

“Michael!” You call out a little louder, giving out a scream as a large blood clot plops out of you and onto the bathroom tile.

Just about to add another signature to the corner of the page, Michael freezes. He and Tom exchange worried glances with one another as their conversation immediately comes to an abrupt end.

“Victoria?” Michael raises his brow, moving away from the desk and slowly over to the door as he listens intently.

“Michael!” You burst into tears, sliding down against the bathroom wall with the lower half of your body smeared in your blood with no sign of the bleeding cycle.

Hearing your voice desperately calling out his name from upstairs, Michael drops his pen to the floor and immediately heads up the spiral staircase to get to the bedroom.

Tom quickly pulls out of his seat, running a shaky hand through his hair before grabbing at the telephone to phone for help, knowing your screams of that clearly in.

“Victoria?!” Michael calls out for you, rushing into the bedroom. “Baby, where are you?!”

“M-Michael,” you attempt to inch away from the wall and towards the door.

Michael quickly rushes into the bathroom. “Here.”

“Victoria—” Michael’s eyes widen as he enters the bathroom, staring at the blood pooling over the ground and your weakened state, writhing by the wall.

“M-Michael, what’s going on?!” You sob, looking at your shaky, blood covered hands.

“TOM!” Michael shouts out the door, hearing scuffling downstairs.

“I’m on it Mike, an ambulance is pulling up to the gates!” Tom’s muffled voice can be heard.

“Come here, come here—” Michael’s quick to kneel down next to you, ignoring the blood staining his suit as he pulls you into his arms. “Look at me, baby,” Michael tilts your head back gently, feeling at your burning forehead. “Jesus, this fever has doubled.”

“Michael,” you swallow hard—teary eyed. “I’m… I’m dilated a little bit and—”

“You’re what?” Michael wraps the bath towel around your body.

“I didn’t think—” You shake your head, shuddering. “I didn’t know, but oh—oh my God!” You shriek, sobbing over his chest.

Michael’s eyes fall to the blood clot remaining on the bathroom floor, only taking him a moment to realize that you’ve just had a miscarriage. “No…”

“It’s our b-baby—” you choke over your tears, sobbing hysterically. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know!”

From the realization, from the blood smeared over both of you and from your scream-sobbing, Michael’s eyes drain of emotion as he holds you tightly in his arms and pulls you out of the bathroom.

“MICHAEL!” You scream out again, flailing your arm and trying to reach back to the bathroom. “Our baby!”

Forcing himself to ignore your insistence as all Michael knows is to immediately get you medical help, he holds you tightly against his embrace to keep you steady and safe as he makes his way speedily down the stairs, but also in a way that if he holds you too tightly, it feels as if you’ll break in his hands.

The overpowering sensation of the horrendously painful stomach cramps, the blaring fever, the blood rushing out of you and the weakness resonating throughout your body is far too much for you to keep your consciousness.

You let out a weak breath before your eyes roll back, fluttering shut, and it’s only until Michael gets down to the foyer where the ambulance awaits just outside the door.

Unbeknownst to him, Michael’s eyes sting with tears and there’s a sense of fear in him he thought he’d never feel. Michael’s heart pounds in his chest and his emotions are only heightened by how helpless you remain motionlessly in his arms—tears staining your splotchy red cheeks.

Lacing a blood smeared hand with yours in the back of the ambulance, Michael lowers his head over you and squeezes his eyes shut—unable to drown out the intensity of how sickened and heartbroken he feels.

Michael’s body language to others only shows tense and cold, unaware of how he truly feels repeatedly hearing you screaming “our baby!” in his head coupled by your sobs.

Michael and you had the twins only two and a half years ago, luckily at their grandparents’ for a weekend visit back in New York now, but you both still exercised caution not to get pregnant again until the twins were a bit older.

You would have happily planned for another baby, but the twins were a bundle and a surprise to you both when you and Michael had just expected one.

Although your sex life intensified if anything to having sex much more frequently whenever the two of you could with high, healthy libidos, Michael and you timed everything with either the pull out method or Doctor Katherine’s recommendations on your menstruation cycle not to have any unsafe sex on days you’re most fertile.

It’s worked for the last two and a half years, or so you and Michael both thought. The idea of you being pregnant for less than twenty weeks and suddenly having a miscarriage with no warning or symptoms beforehand registers as nothing but a shock that can’t be explained to Michael.

Even under care on a hospital bed with the blood cleaned off of you and dressed in a hospital gown, Michael cannot shake the feeling off of him.

Every word your physician tells Michael that has nothing to do with you, the miscarried baby or your health is simply drowned out and discarded, and Michael only finds his mind coming into focus when the doctor begins to thoroughly explain what just happened.

“It was inevitable, unfortunately.” The doctor tells Michael as the two stand just outside the window of your hospital room. “That is what we call miscarriages in this case.”

“Neither of us knew she was pregnant.” Michael stares back at the doctor. “She always had morning sickness with the twins and light cramps. It was blatantly obvious from the beginning.”

“I understand, Mr. Corleone.” The doctor nods. “Every pregnancy and its symptoms can vary. Your wife may not have been aware until her next checkup, or until the fetus developed further in her. This fetus was only ten weeks old and upon examination as you mentioned she told you, Mrs. Corleone’s cervix was open. Nothing could prevent that miscarriage.”

Michael rubs his temples out of frustration, sighing quietly. “It was happening and she wasn’t aware of it until it was too late.”

“As it always is in this case, yes.” The doctor agrees. “The miscarriage will have to come and thoroughly pass. Although the fetus will barely be visible, it may have already came out during the bleeding. Mrs. Corleone has officially lost her pregnancy.”

The words echoed in Michael’s head until you rose from consciousness. Even then, all Michael could do was sit by your side, stroking your hair and gazing down at your weakened state.

Although the two of you spoke no words to each other, Michael could read out the pain in your eyes just as well as you could read the ones in his.

He’d lean down to give your forehead soft, little kisses before pressing his own down against it to give you warmth and affection.

With the medication and IV in your system, your fever and cramps had reduced tenfold before slowly stopping altogether, but the soreness inside your pelvis and the haunting reminder of losing the baby you weren’t even aware you were pregnant with, remains.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” Michael murmured to you while you were still unconscious. “Stay with me, darling.”

“Mm…” You slightly stirred in your sleep, feeling much too faint and weak to respond back, but you heard everything Michael was telling you.

“I love you.” Michael breathed on the back of your hand. “And we’re going to get through this together.”

Several moments passed until you could even muster the energy to open your eyes, let alone purse open your lips to speak to Michael. Still, with the utmost of patience and hope in you, Michael waited and never parted his eyes from you.

“We were…going to have a baby?” You croaked out, forcing your tears back.

He laced his hand with yours, giving it a kiss. “God, Victoria… You couldn’t have known. Neither of us could have.”

“Michael…” You blink back tears, hopelessly gazing up at him.

“Listen to me, baby.” Michael whispers, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “Your physician told me you’re recovering well. Fever’s down, isn’t it?” He places his free hand over your forehead, nodding. “Very good, and your cramping?”

“G-gone.” You sniffle.

“Mm,” Michael kisses your hands over and over again. “You’re doing so well, darling. Tom’s told me your mother and father are both flying in as we speak. They’ll be here with us soon, and all of this—” Michael notices your pained expression doubling. “Will pass, alright? It will. And I’ll be there with you throughout the entirety of it. Good health is the most important thing and your health comes first. We can always have another baby, just you and I.”

“Another…baby,” you repeat softly.

“Yes.” Michael nods at you, “in the future, when we’re both ready to do so. It’ll all pass, darling.” Michael strokes your hair gently with his free hand, watching your expression slowly begin to relax.

“Michael?” You slowly turn your head on the pillow to face him.

“Yes, honey?” Michael raises your hand up to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles.

“I…” You exhale weakly, “I love you.”

“I love you more.” Clutching your hand in both of his up to his forehead to feel your warmth, Michael squeezes his eyes shut.

Both of you remain quiet in each other’s presence with a comforting silence, simply listening to one another breathe.

It’s enough for Michael to know you’re doing well, that you aren’t in pain any longer and that you’re recovering from what he knows will be an experience he’ll want to comfort you for the rest of your life if Michael has to in his arms.

It’s only when Michael opens his eyes again to see a soft smile over your lips that the fear in his heart that burdens him, feeling like it's been present inside of Michael for hours finally subsides.

#Michael corleone x reader #Michael corleone x oc #Michael corleone fanfic #godfather au #Michael corleone smut #Michael corleone #the godfather x reader #godfather x reader #prompts #moth to flame fic

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fandomficsnstuff · 2 months ago

Text

Marco, Polo

(Warnings: Angst, angst and a bit more angst<3)

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

Daryl continued to beat the walker until it stopped moving entirely and was more mush than solid, Rick studying him closely before following after him and further into the forest. “Daryl-”

“Just shut up, man” Daryl growled, shaking his head, stopping and turning to face Rick “you left my little girl behind!! You left her ter die! And now you out here with me, tryna look for her?! Like you ain’t the reason she out here in the first place! Just go on back ter your family, man! Instead ‘f followin’ me ‘round like a damn puppy!” he yelled before continuing, Rick studying him before continuing to follow him “you would’ve done the same thin-”

“It ain’t about that, man! You left my little girl ter die! We out here lookin’ fer a corpse!!” he yelled even louder, Rick looking around to make sure that no walkers heard them before looking back at Daryl “she’s alive, alright? I know she is-”

“Like you knew Sophia was?” Daryl asked coldly, Rick’s stern face falling and he finally noticed the tears in Daryl’s eyes “whatchu doin’ out here, huh? Leavin’ ya family ter look for ‘er after all the shit that just went down?! She ain’t your girl, she’s mine! She’s my little girl!!” he snapped, tears almost running down his cheeks “she’s mah little girl, not yours” he added in a slightly wavering voice that he couldn’t prevent before turning around and continuing to storm off, Rick watching with a sad expression before following. “I know, Daryl” he stated, Daryl scoffing as he turned to face him “know what?” he asked with annoyance, Rick hesitating before walking closer “I know about her… I know she’s infect-”

“She ain’t infected!”

“Jenner told m-”

“Jenner don’t know shit!” he yelled, getting up into Rick’s face “and if you ever say another thing ‘bout this, I’ll gut ya” he warned in a low voice, Rick studying him before shaking his head ever so slightly “I’m not sayin’ she’s one of them, Daryl… if she was then we’d all be dead already… when did she first get infected?” he asked calmly and Daryl scoffed, pacing back and forth “don’t know whatchu talkin’ ‘bout… ‘infected’ my ass. She ain’t infected! She ain’t runnin’ a fever or nothin’!”

“I’m not saying that she is. When did it happen?”

“When did what happen?!”

“What do you think I’m going to do, hm? Shoot her?” Rick asked with slight outrage, Daryl scoffing “you already left her ter die” he pointed out with anger, Rick sighing softly “that was different. You’re telling me you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing had it been her?”

“Shut up-”

“When, Daryl?-”

“The start of all this shit! A’ight?! One of those damn things grabbed her hair ‘n tried to take a damn bite outta her! He scratched her… she ain’t turnin’ into one of those damn things!” Daryl defended, Rick just shaking his head, looking down “it’s been almost a year, I’m not saying she will-”

“Then what the hell’re you sayin’!?”

“I’m saying that I think she’s-”

“Immune? You’re talkin’ shit, like Jenner! It wasn’t deep! That’s why. She ain’t infected” he growled and Rick noticed the way his fists were clenched, ready to probably kill him for even insinuating that the little girl could even be infected to begin with, let alone immune. “You don’t know shit, that’s what you know” Daryl growled before heading off again.

“Delilah?!” Daryl yelled as loudly as he could, waiting, standing still, hoping to hear her response but what he heard instead chilled his blood. Walkers. Walkers clamoring at a tree, turning around at the sound of his shouting and footsteps and he instantly fired an arrow, piercing one walker to the tree with it, firing another, and another, until he threw his crossbow aside, using his hunting knife until a shot rang out and he turned, seeing Rick walk over with a smoking gun, having shot the last walker that was behind Daryl, about to bite him. Rick walked over and studied the walkers closely before turning to Daryl “she’s not one of them” he stated in an attempt to comfort the hunter, Daryl scoffing as he picked up his crossbow, kicking a walker’s head in frustration. “DELILAH?!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, his heart racing until he looked up at the tree the walkers had been clawing at, his facial expression one of remembrance, like he remembered a crucial detail that could solve every problem in the world. “Marco!!” he shouted loudly, waiting, Rick frowning at him as he shouted it again, about to ask him what that meant when they both heard it.

The faintest ‘Polo’ being replied from one of the trees and Daryl spun around, looking up every tree until he saw a dot of blue, remembering the blue sweatshirt she had on. “Marco” he called again and this time a head popped out over the edge of the large branch “Polo” she called weakly and he let out a shaky breath, swallowing thickly “you gonna come down or what?”

“Are they gone?...”

“Super gone, now c’mon” he urged and she got up, balancing herself as she walked to the tree the walkers had clamored at, jumping and Daryl’s heart damn near stopped until he saw that she was already on her way down. The second her feet touched the ground Daryl dropped his crossbow and picked her up, his eyes shut tightly as he held her as closely as possible without squeezing the life out of the little girl. “Don’t you ever do that shit again” he hissed in anger as he continued to hold her, Daisy just clinging to him, sticking to him like glue and he sighed, gently stroking her hair “you tired?” he asked and she nodded weakly “I stayed awake to keep watch…” she murmured and he nodded “all night? Damn… it’s a’ight… you bit or sumethin’?” he asked, expecting a shake of her head but when he didn’t get any he put her down, studying her and then he noticed that she was staring at Rick nervously. Daryl glaring over his shoulder at Rick before looking back at her, kneeling down in front of her “it’s a’ight… is it deep?” he asked and she glanced at Rick again, Daryl studying her “lemme see, a’ight?” he asked and she rolled up her left pant leg, showing off four scratches with blood smeared all over them, sticking to her pant leg, already dried on her skin “they got me when I climbed up, I’m sorry… I wasn’t fast enough, I’m sorry” she admitted quietly as she began to sob, Daryl’s heart racing and he looked up at Rick, his eyes moving to his gun and Rick raised his hands. “I told you, I’m not gonna shoot her” he stated, slowly reaching for his gun and Daryl got out his own, pointing it at Rick as he slowly took his gun from it’s holster, putting it down on the forest ground before doing the same with his knife. “Daisy, get ‘em” Daryl ordered softly and the little girl did as told, getting the revolver and knife and Daryl studied Rick “you got sumthin’ else on you?”

“No.”

“I swear, if you’re lyin’-”

“I’m not, Daryl.”

“I don’t want you to shoot him” Daisy spoke up and Daryl looked down at her hesitatingly before back at Rick “you don’t say nuthin’, you don’t do nuthin’, not ‘till we’re long gone, you understand?”

“I don’t wanna leave either!”

“Daisy-”

“No… please, uncle Daryl…” she begged softly, Daryl’s grip on his gun tightening and Rick raised his hands a little higher “I know she’s not going to turn, Daryl…”

“It ain’t that deep, man!” he snapped, Rick nodding “if she was going to turn, she’d have a fever right now. Does she have a fever?” he asked, Daryl hesitantly putting the back of his hand against Daisy’s forehead before dropping it, Daryl shaking his head at him “you don’t-”

“I won’t say anything, I promise” he stated calmly and Daryl hesitantly lowered the gun, walking closer to Rick with it still in his hand “you so much as whisper any of this ter anyone, I won’t hesitate ter gut you, you understand? You and your boy if I have to ‘cause you’re damn right I would’ve done the exact same thing if it’d been Delilah” he growled before picking up his crossbow, putting it over his shoulder before picking up Daisy after she had sheepishly handed back Rick’s gun and knife to him before allowing herself to be picked up by Daryl and carried back to the highway, eyes already closing in exhaustion.

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

Daisy was quiet as she narrowed her eyes, arms aching a little, her back straight as she had the owl in her sight, Daryl approaching from behind, quietly walking closer as she strained her arms, causing them to shake a little “yer shakin’ too much, relax, let yer back do all the work, a’ight?” he whispered and Daisy let out a heavy sigh, forcing her arms to relax and once they were steady, she let the arrow fly, a big grin on her lips as the owl fell dead to the floor and he smirked, ruffling her messy brown-red hair “atta girl” he praised, walking over and picking it up, taking out her arrow and giving it to her as he started to pluck the bird “shit, you’re getting good with that” he said with a smirk as he walked back down, Daisy in front of him as he continued to pluck the bird as they walked into the living room. Daisy took off her backpack and placed her bow on a small latch that they’d sewn into the backpack, as well as modifying the other side where usually a water bottle could be held but now it held wooden arrows. It was primitively made but Daryl promised the second they could, he’d modify it in some way. Daisy cleaned off the bloody arrow before putting it in with the others, grinning up at Daryl as he sat down and continued to pluck the bird while Daisy looked through her things to take stock of everything while they had the chance.

She looked up at T-Dog before getting up, looking out the window before running back to her backpack, taking the owl from Daryl, tying it to the side of her backpack before putting it on, running outside with him, getting onto the back of his bike and holding on as they drove off again, Daisy looking over her shoulder as the walkers T-Dog had seen filled the area.

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

“While the others wash their panties, let’s hunt, that owl didn’t exactly hit the spot” Daryl stated to Rick before turning to Daisy, who already had an arrow nocked, Daryl smirking a little at her “you think you comin’ with us?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You good enough with that thing yet?” he asked teasingly and she pulled the string back, Daryl and Rick watching her with amusement, watching the arrow fly by them when she let go. They followed it with their eyes, only to see it pierce a walker’s head, both of them looking back at her “I think I’m okay” she stated with a shrug, jogging over and ripping the arrow out of the walker, wiping it on her shirt before nocking it again, looking over her shoulder at them “well? You coming?” she asked, Daryl and Rick sharing a glance of amusement before following after her.

It had been maybe an hour or so before she’d run ahead a little, arrow still nocked but the bow string was slacked, Daryl nervously watching her, barely able to see her past the shrubs and Rick smirked “relax, you taught her well” he stated, Daryl scoffing lightly “ain’t taught her enough yet” he retorted, Rick chuckling “you taught her alright I’d say… You ain’t gotta worry about what I know you worry about” he added, Daryl glancing at him with a slight glare before looking ahead. They hadn’t discussed it. They hadn’t had time. And Daryl wasn’t exactly willing, especially not around the others. “We need to talk about this” Rick stated as he stopped Daryl, turning to face him and Daryl was about five seconds away from firing an arrow into his head. “Ain’t nothin’ ter talk about-”

“She’s immune, Daryl” Rick hissed quietly, Daryl finally looking at him with a burning glare but Rick ignored it “I’d say that’s something to talk about” he added, Daryl studying him, his heart racing and he shook his head “nah, it ain’t-”

“She’s survived all winter with those scratches while everyone else turns within a day or two because a fever kills them. She’s been scratched not once, but twice, Daryl, and she’s still-... standing” Rick stated, for lack of a better word, Daryl continuing to glare at him. “Does she know?” he asked and Daryl scoffed, hesitating “don’t matter if she knows or not” he growled, Rick sighing “you can’t keep something like this from her forever-”

“The hell I can’t! As far as she know, them scratches weren’t deep enough to do shit and she’s gonna keep on believin’ that-”

“What if she gets bit one day, hm? What then? What happens when people wonder why she’s not running a fever? Why she’s not turning pale and dying-”

“It ain’t gonna happen!!”

“What’s not gonna happen?” The soft voice broke the two men out of their argument, turning to look at Daisy who had returned, Daryl glaring at Rick, a warning, before looking at Daisy “whatchu doin’, sneakin’ up on us! How much did you hear?”

“Nothing… why? What were you talking about?”

“Grown up shit, that’s what” Daryl muttered with annoyance, Daisy studying them “I know about the scratches…” she stated softly, frowning ever so slightly “I’m not scared, I know I won’t turn. I would have turned already if I should’ve…” she stated, Daryl watching her closely before looking away, Daisy turning her gaze to Rick who approached “you know what it means?” he asked and she hesitated before shrugging, looking down, clearly unsure of what any of it meant and Rick nodded “you ain’t gotta worry about that right now, alright?” he asked, Daisy just shrugging in response. “I found something, though” she stated, Daryl and Rick exchanging a glance before following her down the railway tracks, both of them noticing a small squirrel hanging by the side of her backpack before their attention turned to her, their eyes following in the direction she pointed in. A prison. Overrun with walkers. “That’s a shame” Daryl muttered as he stood besides Daisy, studying the place and she looked up at him “why? We can clear it out. It has walls, guard towers, fences. Mr. Grimes said there was a place out there for us, what if this is it?” she asked “in case yer eyes ain’t exactly workin’, it’s overrun” Daryl stated with a scoff and Daisy looked up at him “we can take it. What if we make a plan? Like… someone is up in the watchtower with a rifle? Or we shoot from behind the fences? Or we lure them over and use our knives?” she asked, both Rick and Daryl looking down at her before sharing a glance, a silent conversation being spoken in that millisecond that they had eye contact before Daryl nodding further down the tracks “c’mon, that squirrel ain’t enough for us-”

“It’s not for everyone. It’s for Mrs. Grimes and the baby” she stated with a shrug and began to continue walking, Rick smirking with amusement “you know you can call me Rick and you can call my wife Lori, right?” he asked as they walked, Daisy shrugging lightly “okay” she said before jogging ahead a little, an arrow still on her bowstring as she looked around. Rick was quiet before he called out “hey, Daisy!” he called, the young girl stopping until they caught up with her, a smirk on Rick’s lips “how would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“The prison. How would you do it?” he asked again and she frowned, looking at Daryl who gave a small nod and she looked down, they could both practically hear the gears in her head turning “there was a path, right?”

“A path?”

“Between the two fences?”

“Right.”

“We could do it there” she stated with a shrug, Rick looking at Daryl before looking back at her “alright, go on ahead” he nodded and she jogged a little ahead again, seeming to prefer leading, like her uncle. Rick smirked at Daryl before looking ahead again “I’d say you taught her just fine” he stated, Daryl letting out a brief scoff “ain’t sure where she got her smarts from, it sure as hell ain’t from Merle, and it ain’t from her crackhead mom… maybe her mom usin’ while she was pregnant did some shit to her, like superpowers or somethin’” he muttered jokingly, Rick chuckling lightly, shaking his head before looking ahead again. “What was it like, before all of this?”

“Her mom been usin’ her whole life… the day all this shit went down, the day before her birthday, she got strung out with some guy, hadn’t even prepared… didn’t even see her sneakin’ out. She somehow got all the way to Merle’s… ‘course he didn’t give a shit ‘bout her… I took her for ice cream… the owner of the store was dead, some robbery or some shit, the safe was empty. ‘Course she walks over ter see if he’s alright… he wakes up or-... whatever… he turned, grabbed her hair… scratched her when I picked ‘er up and ran with ‘er” Daryl admitted, Rick studying him before looking down “how’d she get all the way to your brother’s?”

“She somehow memorized the route and snuck out, she hid between a buncha kids on some field trip, got on the bus ‘n got off, then walked the rest of the way.”

“Smart kid” Rick commented, Daryl scoffing “damn right…” he muttered, Rick studying him again as they both continued to walk “I’m not going to tell them. It’s between the two of you, and I doubt someone is even still out there, looking for some-... magical cure. I doubt anyone’s left to at least try anyway” he stated, Daryl looking at him as they walked before looking ahead again “there ain’t much point in mentioning something like that” Rick added before looking at Daryl again “but she knows, at least some part of it… I still think she deserves to understand all of it” he stated softly. Daryl studied him before looking down, biting his thumbnail in thought as he looked back up, his eyes finding Daisy as she walked, still on high alert but obviously taking the time to look around and enjoy the scenery.

How the hell could he explain ‘all of it’ to her when he didn’t even know any of it himself?

#Daryl Dixon #Daisy Marston #Delilah Marston #Days Gone By #TWD #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead fic #TWD fanfic #Days Gone By-Marco #Glenn Rhee #Rick Grimes #Carl Grimes #Lori Grimes #The Walking Dead fanfic #TWD fic

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