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wornoutmouse · 3 years ago

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Fun fact: demon slayer starts in 1912 and ends in 1927(or at least that's when the Tashio era ends). Using that math Tanjiro (as long as he kept his health good) would very well be alive today at the ripe age of like 78 if my math is correct since he started as 13 in the series. (My math probably wrong asf)

Power imbalance, power bottom reader, knife play, blood but not blood play...

He hated you.

Your very being irked him more than anything he'd ever experienced in all his centuries of living. You were clumsy, boisterous, and played that arrogant music all throughout your home while walking around half naked. Well in Muzan's opinion you were half naked, he couldn't even begin to describe his disbelief at the trend of exposing skin.

It didn't help that you had that insignificant filth running through your veins. At first he was unsure, after all this was a completely different country than Japan, not to mention your darker skin and coiled hair. But no, he could smell and recognise the Kamado blood running through your veins just as strongly as it had run through all your ancestors.

Completely undiluted.

At the very beginning when you first moved in, you came to his home. Knocking aggressively on his front door already getting off to the wrong start. When he opened it, you slipped past him and walked into his living room barely even saying hello as you put poorly decorated sugar cookies on his obsidian coffee table. "This is a nice place you got here Mj."

Muzan's eyes twitched, that joke had long since gotten old since he moved to America.

Now that you were closer he could definitely smell, the century old stench of rivaling bloodlust simmered just below your onyx skin. At any moment he expected you to attack him in some way or form. "Anyways I'm here to say hello neighbor, my name is Y/n and I'm your new best friend!"

Your happy attitude also agitated him to no end. Even though the knowledge of demons had dwindled down to only a few select families, even basic humans were wary of him as their baser instincts made them aware of his dangerous origins. This fact had long since forced Muzan to only prey on the elderly to survive. You had stayed a bit longer babbling about some nonsense that Muzan never acknowledged as he watched you from a good distance.

"You know you really got to add more to your wardrobe than 1963 suits." You walked from the back of his home, an area that he didn't even notice you wandered to. Finally getting bored, you open his door bidding your farewells.

Just before leaving you stop and with a cheeky grin say, "If you ever need anything just come on over. We Kamado's are known for our kindness."

Since then he'd been on edge around you. The point of relocating was for him to keep a low profile but now it seems he'd have to come face to face with an old nemesis reborn.

Muzan snapped out of his thoughts with a flinch as he pierced his hand with his nail. He watches the dark blood well up from the wound and drip down his wrist. In the end this world had long since lost its hostility dwindling the average human incapable of basic combat. Giving you were no doubt a great descendant, Muzan failed to see you as a true threat.

But one can never be too sure

🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢

You heard a knock on your door, soft and hesitant. "I don't think I'm expecting company." You checked your watch and peered out of a nearby window. It was at least 8 at night, you were braless wearing sweats with a red T-Shirt and on your way to bed. In the back of your mind you visualize your two grand-uncles Inosuke and Zenitsu coming over to make you spectate their fights. For two old dudes they still had enough strength in them to do hip breaking nonsense.

You open the door shocked to see your next door neighbor standing before you. For once he wasn't wearing a suit that cost more than your house. His attire was still expensively dressed but in a more casual sense, that being a black dress shirt and slacks. His sleeves were rolled up displaying his pale skin. "Can I come in?" A dazzling smile you had never seen before practically blinds you as he walks past you into your home.

When Muzan walks in his eyes immediately dart to the clear as day Nichirin Blade sword displayed recklessly on your living room wall above your couch. "You like it?" A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, "Got it from my grandpa, he says it's really special but I feel like he's exaggerating. You know how old people are." Muzan shakes out of his stupor. "I don't quite understand what you mean by that, however I do know that it's much more wise to listen to your elders than ignoring…..It could save your life."

Muzan replicates you and puts a hand on your shoulder gently squeezing. This was it, he'd go in for the kill and it would be over, the amount of blood he'd pump into you would be enough to watch you meet a satisfying end of combustion completely untraceable if the police were to get involved. How he wishes he'd be there when your poor grandfather walks along your remains splattered on every surface in your living room. Unable to do a thing as he's finally in his last stretch of life.

The beauty.

Muzan's finger only twitches in the slightest before pain sparks from his own neck. "The thought of you coming into my own home unprovoked and at night no less, was the most obvious sign one could ask more." You had his hand gripped so tight your veins popped while your other hand held a small pocket knife that burned brighter than any Nichirin sword he'd ever encountered. He didn't understand, he was quick enough to kill even the best of the ancient Hiroshima. So how did a little foreign girl like you get the upper hand?

It was embarrassing and almost laughable if any of his pillars were alive to tell the tale.

You press the blade harder before bringing your other hand to caress Muzan's cheek, "Did you think I'd be just an ignorant descendant of an infamous hero?" You clicked your teeth disappointingly. "How naive, you've really become lazy after all these millennia huh?" You walk forward, pushing Muzan back with seductive strength. He allows you to push him into your couch, I say allow because at any time he could have stopped you.

Muzan is most definitely not holding me at gunpoint right now.

The knife never wavers even as you climb into Muzan's lap, pressing it even closer against his jugular. "You do know getting beheaded will not kill me, and I doubt this petty little kitchen knife will get the job done in the first place." Your lips draw into a smirk and you press the knife closer as you trail it down his chest, "That may be true but it's gonna take one hell of a time for you to grow back." Your hand jerks down, popping his shirt buttons open.

Muzan watches with interest, your eyes light up as more skin becomes exposed. The tones of your dark skin contrast strikingly as you caress his pectoral with the tips of your fingers. "For a 1,000 year old grandpa you look decent." Still threatening his life with your blade, you kiss him. It's deep and carnal. Your lustful desires being made known as you grind in his lap. The flesh of your ass snuggly hotdogs the forming outline of his cock. "I've always wanted to be with a demon. You've had to of become a real freak after living this long!"

When you pull away Muzan's thin lips are pink and a bit swollen. He is out of breath despite needing none, "You have a lot of nerve for a mere human." With your free hand you loosen the belt of his slacks, only standing to pull them off, pleased when Muzan voluntarily raises his hips to aid you.

Don't get him wrong, he was still planning on killing you and ending your wretched bloodline once and for all, he just needed his mind to clear itself. Your scent, your confidence, strung him along like a puppet. His hands grip onto your ass cheeks like a lifeline. Molding them between his fingers, even giving them a shake through your sweats. His nails elongate and puncture the thick fabric as if it was nothing more than a spider web.

Your sweats are tugged off completely leaving your lower half nude. Muzan moves his hands to hold your ass again but your blade politely makes itself known. You are out of breath and clearly flustered. "Watch yourself, demon, I'm the one calling the shots, don't forget that." Muzan bites his tongue with sharp glare. He raises his hands in surrender, "Of course."

Muzan can feel your wetness against his leg and it's driving him insane. "Hey…" red eyes refocus on yours, "You ain't got any diseases do you? And you can't get me pregnant right?" Muzan smirks hands enclosing around your ass despite your protest. "I can, however it will cost a lot more than doing it once." The odds didn't seem in your favor but you were in no position to stand down and grab a condom and Muzan knew it.

You curve the blade towards his chin, "If you are lying and give me some ancient unknown disease or I find out you have superman sperm, I will kill you." Muzan links his lips, "Wasn't that the plan from the beginning or have you had a moment of level headedness?" Your wrist is quick and precise, cutting a thin slash along his jawline., not enough to scar and it barely even bled, but the threat was clear.

You grab Muzan's dick and use your thumb to attack the underside with fast strokes. Said man doesn't react outwardly, the only sign being his eyelids lowering by a fraction. "Were you always this well endowed or did you adjust this part too?" Muzan was not amused by your insinuation. Deciding to once again display the true power imbalance this situation had, he loops his arms underneath your large thighs and lifts you just enough to thrust his cock against your hole.

From there he let's go, making you plop down on his length, making you yelp and allowing him to lean back with a relaxed sigh. You were so warm and tight. Now even though I explained what had happened with great detail, keep in mind that in reality it all happened within a fraction of a second.

Your large and in charge persona was cracking. You gripped Muzan's sides tightly as your pussy spasmed around his girth. "F-Fuck it's too….." you trail off not wanting to give Muzan the credit he was truly due.

It takes a few moments for you to get your bearings all the while Muzan and his dangerous jaw swayed in the crevice of your neck. A viper playing with its prey. The blade is back against his neck once again making his cock twitch. If he were human this would be a dangerous feat. Your grip never slacked nor lessened against his neck, slicing into a growing wound that dropped dark blood down his chest and to his abdomen.

His dick stretched your pussy and made it weap on each downstroke. Muzan's hands grip onto the cheeks of your ass with gritted teeth. Your insides gripped him ever so slightly. Sucking him back in as if he belonged there. He felt used and it felt good. His black ringlets stuck to his face from sweat and his red eyes grew in intensity.

He couldn't see much of your body, hell he could barely even touch. In the back of his mind humorous thoughts such as how he knew Tanjiro would lose his sanity if he knew his granddaughter was being bedded by the man he despised. But the more you bounced, the more you squeezed, the deeper you cut into his neck proved that you were truly the one in charge.

"Oh God you're so deep!" Your deep almond eyes shut themselves with pleasure. Muzan could feel your legs shaking with exertion at the same rhythm your pussy twitched. His balls felt tight after having no action in over a dozen years. "F-Faster." He has no care for your blade, only wanting to cum and feel the sweet ecstasy he knew your creamed pussy would provide. "Come on human, go faster." Muzan locks lips with you, gaze hardened and intent on proving some sort of point.

Tossing the knife you wrap your arms around his neck pulling his head closer. Red eyes target brown ones as his hands take a stronger grip on your ass. He uses his strength to bounce you. The sound of his balls slapping against the curve of your ass is just as disgusting as it is sexy. Your nipples rub against his through your tank-top making you both moan. The feeling blood stains your shirt making you shiver from the cool wetness

The couch you rest on bangs against the wall behind you the faster you both go. Muzan's feet are planted firmly in the ground, his fangs further elongated. He looks feral and it is in this moment where you get a glimpse of the horror many people felt when he took their lives. "Focus little Kamado, you wouldn't want to disappoint me now would you?"

Muzan's hips meet yours, spreading the tempo. Your juices coat his lap before finally you tense up completely into a cramp inducing stance as Muzan impaled you on his cock one last time. "Ahh.." Muzan empties himself within you with a relieved sigh.

Maybe the Kamado bloodline could go on.

#blackreader #black y/n #demon slayer smut #muzan x reader #anime smut #muzan smut #muzan x black reader #demon slayer x black reader

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harrypotterwholock · 3 years ago

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A doctor's visit

Summary:

The reader visits Dr. Watsons's practice because of her chronic headache. However, when the doctor draws her blood, he finds out about her self harm and confronts her about it.

Trigger Warning:

Implied Self-harm, implied suicide

I hadn't seen a doctor in a long time, but having had a headache almost every day for a month, I got myself to see one.

After I no longer had a general practitioner, I opened the phone book and looked for a practice. The first entry immediately appealed to me: Dr John Watson, a general practitioner in Westminster. So I called right away and made an appointment for the next day.

The reason for my doctor phobia was my self-harm, which always raised uncomfortable questions during examinations. But since the appointment was all about my head, I wasn't too worried about this possibility.

~~~

I woke up unusually early on the day of the appointment, probably because of the worries about a possible confrontation with the doctor. Despite the sweltering heat, I put on long sleeves to avoid any inquiries. After breakfast, I got ready and went to the next subway station. As always, people looked at me crookedly because I was so inappropriately dressed. When I sat down on a bench next to the track to wait, a small child pointed to me and said to his mother:

"Mommy, why is the woman dressed in such strange clothes, isn't it too hot for long clothes?" The mother was ashamed and pulled her child away from me, but I smiled at the girl.

The subway finally came, and after 10 minutes I had already reached my destination.

The practice was a short walk from the station. At the reception, I registered with a nice doctor's assistant.

"Hello Ms. y / n, I need your insurance card, please."

"Yes, of course, just a moment."

I gave her the card and then went into the waiting room.

When I had just got myself a newspaper to read, a sympathetic doctor opened the waiting room and called me up.

"Hello Mrs. y / l / n, please come with me. My name is Dr Watson. “, he greeted me with a smile.

The treatment room was designed in light colours and was very inviting, thanks to several colourful paintings on the walls. I took a seat across from Dr Watson and waited while he read through my files.

“I see you come to us with a chronic headache, Ms. y / l / n. How long exactly have you had it?"

“For about a month. I thought it was just a bit of a migraine because I have a bit of stress at work at the moment, but now that they haven't left for so long, I fear that it could be something worse "

"I understand. I would like to check you for muscle tension first if that's okay. "

I nodded, and Dr Watson got up and began carefully examining my shoulders and neck.

“It all looks good, and there doesn't seem to be any nerve damage. I think your headache is a stress reaction, as you suspected, but I would still like to draw your blood to make sure there is no organic cause. "

I froze and felt hot and cold at the same time.

“Are you sure that is necessary? I thought you were pretty sure that it was just the stress. "

Dr Watson looked at me sympathetically.

“It would only be for their own good. And don't worry about the needle, you won't feel any of it, I promise you. "

Without any other choice, I nodded and first rolled up my right sleeve to avoid further conversations as much as possible.

"Ah, a leftie, I see," he said, winking at me.

I nodded in agony and smiled. I knew that the veins in general, and especially on my right arm, were bad and often didn't give any blood.

Dr Watson gave me another encouraging smile and began disinfecting my arm.

Then he started inserting the needle, but no blood came out.

“I see you have rolling veins. I think we'll have to try again on your other arm", he said.

Fearfully, I rolled up my left sleeve while he looked for more materials with his back to me.

Tortured, I looked away from my arm and let him have it. When he turned back to me and sat down to draw my blood, he breathed in sharply and looked questioningly into my eyes. When I didn't reply, he said nothing and began to draw blood from my only good vein.

After he was done, he said to me:

"Good Ms. y / l / n, please have a seat, I'll take this over to the laboratory quickly, and then I'll be right back with you."

I sat shaking and tried to calm my breathing. I knew what was in store for me. Countless doctors had referred me to various places, but nothing had worked. I was hopeless.

Dr Watson came back, eyed me worriedly, and sat across from me.

“Ms. y / l / n, you know as well as I do that I can't ignore the scars on your arm. I would disregard my duty of care. Am I right to believe that you inflicted these injuries on yourself? "

"You are right, Dr Watson. I understand you are concerned, but so many doctors before you have tried to help me, and nothing has worked. Please only treat my headache and let me sort out my problems myself. "

"I understand. But just because you've been disappointed in the past doesn't mean nobody can help you. Please let me try. Is this behaviour also related to the stress you mentioned? "

“No, I've had that for a long time. I really appreciate your efforts Dr Watson, but I can't be helped anymore. "

This statement seemed to alarm the doctor because he immediately sat up and leaned forward to me.

“Ms. y / l / n, it is really important that you are honest with me now. Are you thinking about or are you going to kill yourself? "

He looked at me worriedly and seemed extremely agitated. I had hit a sore nerve with my testimony, and it hadn't hit far from the truth.

"No, no, Dr Watson. Really, you shouldn't worry about me. I have to go anyway, I still have work to do. "

I was about to get up when Dr Watson jumped up and pushed me back into my chair by my shoulder.

"No, stay here!" He exclaimed desperately.

“I can't just let you go like this. Who knows what you… ”He cleared his throat.

“You know, a few months ago I lost my best friend. He also killed himself. I don't want the same thing to happen to you. You must have someone to look after you. Don't do this to them. Please do not."

"I'm sorry, Dr Watson, I didn't know that. But I'm sticking to it. I have been to so many treatments, and they have never done any good. I just simply can not carry on anymore."

“Okay y / f / n, listen to me. I can call you y / f / n, right? I'm John, by the way. ” He smiled desperately at me.

“I understand you don't want to be forcibly brought in again, but I can't let you go home in this condition. I will now call an ambulance that will take you to the nearest psychiatric hospital. "

I wriggled out of his grasp.

“No, don't do this to me, please. It's horrible there, that only makes it worse! "

He looked at me thoughtfully.

"All right then. For the rest of the day, all I had to do was paperwork. What do you think if you come to my house, where I can make sure you don't harm yourself. But then you also have to tell me about your problems. I am sure that I can still help you. "

I considered his offer. It was definitely better than being brought in again.

"Good, I'm with you. Definitely better than ending up in a psychiatric hospital again. "

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Excellent! Here's your coat, come with me. "

He led me out of the treatment room, always careful to hold me back in case I should run away.

“Jessica, I still have work to do. Please lock up afterwards when you go. "

We left the practice and John led me to his car in which we drove to his apartment.

#sherlock fanfic #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock bbc #john h watson #john watson / reader #john watson x reader #john watson x selfharm!reader #johnwatson x suicidal!reader #john watson fanfic #sherlock angst #dr watson #sherlock #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #hurt/comfort

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

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Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook x OC

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“Are you sure you want to head back to work today, Areum? Hoseok told me that he would give you the rest of the week off if you like... That bruise on your face is looking pretty nasty.” My sister commented mildly, her eyes worried as she watched me dab concealer on the mottled purpling skin on my jaw.

“I need to finish a couple of reports by the weekend. And Namjoon oppa told me he wanted me to be there when we viewed the CCTV footage later today. It’s going to help getting that bastard fired.” I flinched at how bad this side of my face looked.

The bastard.

“He’s not fired yet?” My sister made a noise of outrage.

“Of course he is. There’s a restraining order against him. But formally he needs to be terminated and Namjoon wants to do it in a way that it goes on his record permanently. Especially considering he’s already out on bond.” I wrinkled my nose.

There wasn’t much chance of Junho going to prison over this but I definitely did not want him within fifty feet of me, ever again.

“Jungkook’s busy with his practice is it? I haven’t heard from him...” My sister prompted and I nodded.

“His big match is coming up on Sunday. That's like four days away ...he’s probably cooped up in that gym of his.”

“I know... Seokjin works out there too... its a great place...how come you’re never there?”

I frowned .

“He actually has me blacklisted. I’m not allowed inside the establishment. ” I muttered.

My sister’s eyes widened.

“What? Why?”

I shrugged. The memory was a good one and worth reliving. In fact i relived it quite often when I was particularly horny with only my own hands for relief.

“I seduced him against his favorite punching bag once and he had to get rid of it because the cum stains wouldn’t come off. He’s a petty jerk.” I grinned at my sister enjoying the way her eyes went wide as saucers. .

She stared at me slack jawed. And then she shook her head in disbelief.

“You talk about him this way but you always look like you're half way in love with him. I don’t know what is going on in your head when it comes to Jungkook.”

I laughed.

“I love him. Of course I do.... I’m pretty sure he cares about me too, “ I remembered how warm and content I’d felt when he’d held me, how the police officer had immediately concluded he was my boyfriend, simply from the concern radiating off him, “ But, I’m not going to push for anything. I like how we are ...now.”

“Friends with benefits.?”

“I prefer the term enemies who fuck” I winked and she groaned.

“Whatever you say. But remember, you’re going to have to DTR at some point and I hope you don’t get a shock if he isn’t on the same page. “

“Unlikely. Now go distract mom so I can slip out of the back door.”

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

“That looks pretty fucking bad.” Hoseok winced when he saw me and I groaned.

“Don’t remind me. I ran into Namjoon on the way up and he swelled like a bullfrog. Is Jungkook in today?” I asked him brightly.

Hoseok frowned.

“you guys are awfully chummy these days ....Need I remind you about the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office?”

I flushed.

“We’re...not....I mean. We’re friends. “

“I thought the term was enemies who fuck.” Hoseok said thoughtfully and I jumped.

“What-?”

“Jungkook told me, you little brat. I asked him why he went over to the police station and broke Junho’s fucking jaw and he spilled...”

My own jaw came unhinged.

“ He what?!”

“He posted the bond money for the bastard himself to get him out and then apparently punched him hard enough to land him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God...is he in trouble?”

Hoseok sighed.

“Of course not... Mr. Jeon had it taken care off at once but I knew something was up . He’s too old to play knight in shining armor , unless there was something between you guys...”

I sighed.

“We’re in a purely physical relationship yes with of course a splattering of affection for each other. But nothing that deserves a label or close scrutiny from the HR dept. Please Hobi oppa, just let me be. “ I fluttered my lashes and he rolled his eyes.

“Just as long as you know that Jeon Jungkook is a chaebol. He’s not going to make a honest woman out of you.” Hoseok gave me a pointed look and I wondered if I really did wear my heart on my sleeve.

Apparently, everyone could sense that my feelings for Jungkook ran deeper than just lust and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing.

“Anyway, yo answer you question, yes. He’s in his office right now.”

I made to turn away but Hoseok grabbed my wrist.

“You have thirty five memos to answer and seventeen appointments to schedule. Your desk is this way, I suggest you head in that direction.” His eyes glinted in a way that told me he was incredibly serious.

I pouted.

Fine... I’d wait for lunch to go meet Jungkook.

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

Jungkook had a secretary of his own , the smitten Miss Lee and she gave me an angelic smile, telling me that Jungkook was out to meet someone in the marketing department. If there was anything important, I could leave it with her.

Declining the offer and thanking her, I made my way to the fireescape and the back stairwell. One of the doors opened to the emergency exit in Jungkook’s office and it took me a little bit of running around but I managed to locate it easily enough.

Jungkook had left the door open and less than ten minutes later , I was in his office, staring around in mild awe.

Weirdly enough, I’d never been here. before, mostly because Jungkook himself wasn’t in here all that much. But there was no mistaking that he actually did take his work seriously . I peered around the expensive drawing Tablet and the three or so monitor screens , the stylus tossed about.

It was probably a huge breach of his privacy but I couldn’t help but click on the mouse, watching his monitor come alive.

I blinked in disbelief when I realized what I was staring at.

“Oh my fuck...” I

I felt my face flood with heat as I stared at the screen.

It was a drawing of me.

I was completely naked , reclining against what looked like a thick white fur rug , with countless plush cushions scattered all around me. The snow white fur set off the golden glow of my skin and I noticed the attention to detail, the tiny mole in the corner of my hip, the small half moon scar on the edge of my collar bone and of course an impressive collection of hickeys on my neck and my inner thighs.

I looked the way I usually did when I was mouthing off at him, a little angry and rebellious, my eyes blazing with a challenge and my lips parted in annoyance . I had one hand resting right between my legs, two fingers pressed against the labia while the other two disappeared into me. The other hand lay on my breast, fingers tweaking one hard nipple .

I turned away quickly, breathing harshly as I realized that Jungkook had literally drawn an incredibly accurate drawing of me masturbating , purely from memory.

Not entirely sure if i should be angry at this or not, I tried to clear the hazy cloud of arousal that was beginning to settle all over me. I wasn’t angry.

I was just ridiculously turned on.

And incredibly curious if he had other pics of me.

I whirled back around to the computer and then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that Jungkook was leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused smile on his face.

“Oh, fuck...” I clutched at my heart which felt like it was going to give out.

“Pretty sure your desk isn’t here, Areum. Are you lost?” He drawled, stepping away from the door and stalking over to me.

I stepped back quickly, the action purely instinctive.

“Did you punch Junho?” I asked sharply.

Jungkook gave me a small smile.

“That is a very mild way to put it yes. He’s gonna be eating through a straw for a couple of months , yes.”

I glared at him.

“What if you got arrested.” I folded my arms.

He laughed.

“Baby, come on. fucker had it coming. Anyway enough about that loser. Why are you hovering near my desk. Corporate espionage is generally frowned upon baby... Am i gonna have to spank you, you naughty girl?” He waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes before walking up to his desk and turning the screen around to show the lewd artwork .

“how long have you been drawing me like that?” I pointed at the screen and Jungkook looked surprised.

Surprised but not particularly bothered.

“Ah... i love that one... Did you see the way I only drew four of your fingers between your legs baby, your thumb is supposed to be rubbing on your clit.... I was working on it when I got called away earlier....” He looked apologetic.

I felt like I had turned the exact shade of the marron carpet under my foot.

“Jungkook how long have you been drawing me naked...” I snapped.

“ Oh... probably the first time you let me see you naked.” He said nodding lightly and I stared at him.

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I hissed and he gave me a grin.

“Because it’s for my own personal...use.” He grinned.

I glared at him.

“How many....?” I demanded.

Jungkook shrugged.

“50...? 60? Definitely at least fifty.” He said casually.

I stared at him.

“I wanna see them.” I said sharply. Jungkook sighed, like I was being a pain , which was so unfair it made me want to scream.

“Areum, I-”

“Jungkook?” A soft voice called from the outer office and I frowned when Jungkook startled.

“Oh, hey... Sana..... Come in.” His voice had shifted into something mild and pleasant and I felt my hackles rise.

“Oh..hello... Areum ssi...” The girl gave me a confused smile and I resisted the urge to fold my hands and demand what she was doing there. Instead , I moved away from behind Jungkook’s desk, grabbing a file.

“Good afternoon Sana ssi.” I smiled.

“I’m sorry, I missed lunch, Sana.... I wanted to give you this. “ Jungkook pulled out a small envelope from his jacket, smiling an absolutely angelic smile at her.

Sana looked suitably enthralled, her eyes trained greedily on his perfect face as she took the envelope.

“Oh.. are these--?”

“Tickets to my match on Sunday yes...” He smiled. “ I’m hoping you’ll be there.”

I felt my lungs expand as I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The urge to screech like a banshee was increasing by the second.

“Oh, I’ll be there for sure. I’ll be cheering you on from the front row, Jungkook !!” She all but bounced on her feet, looking positively giddy with excitement as she bowed to both of us and literally floated away.

I waited till she was fully gone before turning on him.

“There better be another envelope in there with my name on it.” I gritted out.

Jungkook grinned wide at that, eyes dancing with mirth.

“In my jacket? Not really. But there’s something much better in my pants with your name on it. Want me to whip it out for you baby?? “

He grabbed the edge of his belt buckle, tugging the leather out of the hoops and I glared at him.

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to be okay with you letting everyone watch you fight but me. That is just unfair and uncalled for.” I snapped.

Jungkook was still tugging on his belt, but he paused to give me a look.

“What’s in it for me?” He said softly.

I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a deal without an equitable pay off....Its obvious that you’re really turned on by the thought of watching me fight . So unless you give me something I’m thirsty for.... I’m not going to indulge you,” He said casually.

I laughed in disbelief.

“There is literally nothing I’ve denied you in bed , you're crazy to even suggest -”

“I haven’t fucked your ass yet.” He said casually.

I could feel myself turning red.

“No.” I hissed. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?” He frowned.

“Because it fucking hurts. I’m not going through that again.” I snapped.

Jungkook groaned like he was in actual pain.

“Baby, its hardly my fault you’ve never slept with a real man before me, is it? Why should I deprived the pleasure of fucking your ass just because those buffoons didn’t know how to do it right?” Jungkook’s voice was dangerously close to a whine and I resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“I don’t fucking care...its a no. So drop it. ”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He muttered and then made a big show of thinking, “ alright fine. How about you let me tie you up.”

I stared at him.

“You literally do that every time we have sex.” I pointed out.

“And I get to use my toy box.”

I blinked.

“Your toy box.” I said , confused. He grinned mischievously.

“You know the one...Big mahogany box underneath my bed. The first time I showed you, you kind of screamed and called me a monster?” He grinned wide.

i had a brief flashback of an assortment of whips, floggers and gags.

I shuddered.

Nope.

This wasn’t working.

“How about this.... Either you get me those tickets or you don’t get to fuck me. At all.” I smirked.

Jungkook hummed.

“Why would you punish yourself like that love?” He drawled. “ You can’t live without my dick, the sooner you accept that the easier life is going to get for you.”

The audacity of this bitch.

I walked right past him , ready to stalk out, but his hand shot out, gripping my elbow and pulling me into his embrace.

I struggled against his hold, but he brought both arms around my waist, flexing his muscles so I could feel just how futile it would be to try and break free.

“Come on baby, walking out in the middle of negotiations...that’s just really poor etiquette. Think of the poor hostage....” He pouted , doe eyes wide and I nearly caved. He had no fucking business being sexy and cute.

I laughed in disbelief.

“Hostage??....are you talking about your fucking ego....?” I stared right up at him , tilting my face when he moved to kiss me. His lips latched on to my jaw instead, tongue licking the skin there gently as he hummed .

“No...I’m talking about my dick.” He grabbed both my elbows, swinging me around like I weighed nothing, one arm holding me in place as he pressed up against my back, hips rolling so I could feel the hardness of his dick right against the swell of my ass. “ Dude’’s feeling pretty darn trapped right now. Poor thing just wants to get inside you and ruin you baby, why you making it so hard for him...?”

I elbowed him sharply, vindicated when the sharp edge of it caught something hard and fleshy. Jungkook grunted in discomfort but didn’t let go of me.

“My little hellcat. “ He bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, “You know why my dick is hard?”

“To match your cold unfeeling heart?” I snapped and he moaned in mock hurt.

“Not fair baby...I have the kindest heart... Soft heart, hard dick....That’s literally my entire persona.” Jungkook nuzzled my neck .

I fought the urge to laugh .

“So why then? Because I’m within ten feet of you? Isn’t that all it takes usually?” I muttered, wincing a bit when his teeth sank in a little deeper.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle.

“Normally I’d agree but today... I’m so fucking hard because you looked like you wanted to claw Sana’s face off when I gave her those tickets....”

I flushed.

“Well, I just don’t think I should be the only one not allowed to see you fight.”

“Or maybe you just hate the idea of any one else getting to touch my dick...because like I said...it’s got your name on it right baby?” Jungkook laughed against my ear and I blushed .

“I still think its rude that you don’t let me come to your matches.” I grumbled.

“And why do you think that is, baby? Why do you think I’m so adamant about you not being anywhere near me when I have something important to do...”

I didn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut when he suckled on the skin near my neck.

“Its because I’ll probably lose..” He growled into my ear, “ Don’t wanna get knocked out in the first round because I was too busy staring at your pretty, pretty face and delicious fucking body... My only distraction, my favorite distraction.”

I felt myself melt like an ice cream cone in the fucking sun.

“Oh, fuck you....you honey-tongued son of a bitch...” I choked out, unable to fight the wide grin that was taking over my face.

Jungkook chuckled in victory, hugging me tighter.

“So tell me.... Can I tie you up tonight? Get some of my favorite toys...Want to play in your sandbox....” He leered and I laughed despite myself. How could this man make the most innocent of phrases sound so fucking sexy....

“Only if you let me pick the toys.”

Jungkook let go of me and gently turned me around. He was frowning deeply.

“Babe you don’t even know what their called.” He complained.

“But I can gauge how much damage they’ll do and that’s more important to me.” I pointed out.

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“Hmm....fine... But I get to offer the choices. “ He said softly.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Okay, in that case you need to let me see every single drawing you’ve made of me... right now.” I smiled.

Jungkook grinned, already grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his desk.

“Deal...but I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock and keep it warm while I show them to you..... okay?”

I glared at him but he was already moving to the wide , comfortable chair behind the desk. He sat on the chair, manspreading and unbuckling himself before wriggling the slacks down past his waist and tugging his boxers down.

I watched him reach in to pull out his hard cock , pumping the hard length of it a couple of times before smiling at me expectantly.

“Horny bastard.” I muttered under my breath, before letting him maneuver me into his lap, fingers slipping up my skirt and tugging my panties aside , before lining himself up against my center.

“Ready baby?” He kissed my cheeks fondly and I nodded lowly. He pressed a couple of fingers against my slit, dipping in just enough to make sure I was wet enough. I wasn’t dry per se, but it still stung a bit when he drove himself in with one swift stroke.

“Oh, fuck...” I groaned when he entered me , the rock hard length of him cleaving my insides and making my tongue go dry. I clenched down on him, thighs beginning to tremble already. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me.

“Maybe I should call Sana in now.? Huh baby...that’ll show her who this dick belongs to, right , angel?” He whispered against my ear and I moaned, a gush of arousal staining my thighs at his words., Jungkook laughed knowingly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still before rolling his hips gently and settling inside me.

“So baby, which ones do we start with.... Solo shots? ones with me....? There’s one of me fucking your pretty pink hole, maybe that’ll change your mind about letting me take you in the back...”

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

Author’s Note : I’m stopping here because the next chapter is just like 5k of porn and I wanted it to be a standalone chapter.

Comments are love , Feedback is really appreciated. Send me your thoughts, ideas or even just scream about how hot Jungkook is....anything works.

taglist : @veronawrites @aamxxrii @brooky95

@apollukee

@ladyartemesia

@yoongisdragon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ if you guys wanna be on the taglist just lemme know...

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #bts au #bts enemies to lovers #jungkook fics #jungkook reactions #bts smut #bts fics

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cowboy-eddie · 3 years ago

Text

May’s Tattoo

When May decides she wants to get a tattoo, and Athena isn’t exactly with the idea, she turns to two of the most tattooed people she knows; Buck and Eddie.

You can also read this on my AO3! hit up CallMeG :)

“Mom, I want to get a tattoo.”

Athena paused for a second, before turning to her daughter.

“What brought that on?”

“I want to express myself. I want to have something that defines me right now, even if it won’t later because it’s relevant now and it’s something I want to do while I’m young.”

Athena hummed, patting Bobby on the shoulder for backup and he cleared his throat.

“I’m sure Buck or Eddie would have a couple of recommendations.”

“Bobby, Buck and Eddie both got their tattoos elsewhere in the country.”

“Not true; Buck has one on his ribs he got in LA and Eddie got one before he came back to work on his arm.”

May crossed her arms.

“Is Eddie gonna give me that dad speech he has warmed up at all times?”

“Probably.”

Athena glared at Bobby, jabbing her elbow into his ribs to get him to shut up. Of all the people, she thought he’d be the one against it.

“Fine. I’ll ask Buck.”

May reached into her pocket and tapped away on her phone. A second later she had an answer and picked up her keys.

“I’m going to see Buck; I’ll be back later.”

“Okay honey, drive safe,” Athena called after her. She turned to Bobby, hands on her hips, and Bobby’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“I was asking for help to convince her not to, Bobby.”

“She had a really good argument! Besides, I’m her stepfather. At least with Buck and Eddie she has good support.”

may’s tattoo

Buck opened the door and smiled at May, giving her a quick hug before inviting her inside.

“Eddie is here too; he’s in the living room.”

“Is Christopher here?” May asked, poking her head in and Buck shook his head.

“Abuela and Pepa practically begged to take him off Eddie’s hands for the night.”

“So just two bros, chilling on a couch, five feet apart...”

“Don’t say it,” Buck huffed and May laughed as she tossed her purse and mask on to the counter before taking off her shoes and leaving them on the shoe rack.

“Hey, Buck, can you grab me a beer?” Eddie called from the living area and Buck grabbed it from the fridge, popping the top off before leading May over to the couch.

“Eds, May is here. She wants to ask us something.”

“What’s up?”

Eddie sat up, feet on the floor instead of the couch and suddenly May got the idea they’d been snuggling before she knocked.

“Am I interrupting date night?”

“No!”

“What are those anymore?”

May glanced between Eddie and her pseudo-brother, before she laughed.

“I definitely did. Uh, I wanted to ask you guys about your tattoos. I was thinking of getting one, and Bobby directed me to you two.”

“That’s so not a good idea,” Eddie snorted into his beer and Buck shoved his elbow into his boyfriend’s ribs before turning back to May.

“What are we talking? First experiences? I got my first one when I was eighteen, and I probably wouldn’t recommend getting one in a dodgy parlour out the back of a gas station.”

“Is that even legal?” May asked and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Probably not. Uh, my first one... I got it right before I went to Afghanistan. It meant a lot to me.”

“Find a way. Hm.”

“My parents aren’t like yours, May. They wanted to coddle me for all the wrong reasons, and I had to get out of there. Christopher was more their son than I was.”

Buck squeezed Eddie’s shoulder, shrugging.

“Mine are all just a reminder of my life experiences and everything I’ve done.”

Next thing May knew, Buck had pulled up his shirt to show off his most recent ones.

“The uh- the human head, and the brain- it kinda symbolises how brilliant the human mind is when we remember to use it, and sometimes I need the reminder to use it.”

May burst out laughing and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“That’s an understatement. The one on my other arm... not the quote...”

“The map and compass?” May asked and he nodded, pulling up the hoodie May only just realised was Buck’s to show his forearm. It was clearly scarred, from shit she had no reason to ask about, but the detail in the image was beautiful.

“Oh my god- Eddie, it’s... it’s gorgeous. That would have taken ages!”

“Thanks, and it did. Something about guiding me in the right direction. North always leads to home.”

“I thought North always led to water?” Buck asked, brows furrowed. May shushed him, suddenly interested in the designs on Eddie’s arm.

“Did it hurt?”

“Nah-“

“-he has no sense of pain, May, don’t listen to him,” Buck said and Eddie glared.

“Neither do you, asshole.”

“Okay, if you want to get into this-“

“-guys! Can you at least wait until I’m out the door before you start making out?”

Buck pulled Eddie’s hoodie sleeves down and Eddie swatted at the back of his head.

“Do you know what you want?” Buck asked and May shrugged.

“I’m not sure yet, but I have some ideas.”

may’s tattoo

A few weeks later, Bobby appeared in the doorway to his office and called for Buck and Eddie. They headed into the office and Bobby closed the door, hands on his hips.

“So you convinced May getting a tattoo was a good idea.”

“Uh, no, we didn’t,” Eddie said, eyebrows furrowed but Buck shrugged.

“We didn’t exactly discourage it.”

“Buck!” Eddie huffed, shoving an elbow into his boyfriend’s ribs while Bobby just sighed.

“You two had one job. One.”

“I thought it was saving people,” Buck deadpanned. This time Bobby was the one who smacked him upside the head.

“Athena is not keen for May to get a tattoo!”

“Oh,” Buck and Eddie said simultaneously. Bobby nodded.

“Oh indeed. So, here’s what’s going to happen. I don’t want you to scare her out of it, but I do want you guys to be honest the next time she asks questions- maybe don’t tell her about the weed, Buck?”

Buck promptly shut his mouth and winced. He didn’t think Bobby knew about that part of Buck 0.5.

“You got it Cap,” Eddie agreed, hooking a finger through the belt loop at the back of Buck’s pants.

may’s tattoo

“May, come through. Do you have someone with you- Buck! Are you here with this young lady?”

“Yeah, May is my captain’s stepdaughter. Eddie might swing by later though.”

Following the tattoo artist through to a private room, the tattoo artist flicked the curtain closed and shook Buck’s hand.

“Good to see you man. Okay May, what are we doing today?”

“I want a line of power poles.”

“Wow, nice choice. Okay, sit down and let’s do a little prep work before I start drawing.”

May took a seat on the chair while Buck stood toward the back of the room, watching May’s eyes dart around the room.

“Hey. It’s okay if you’re not ready,” he said gently, “we can rebook for later.”

“No! I’m doing this.”

The tattoo artist took a seat on one of the stools, reaching for a sketchpad and transfer paper.

“So, power poles. Where are you thinking of putting them?”

“On my side.”

May lifted her tank top to expose her ribs, gesturing to the area. The tattoo artist frowned.

“That is one of the more painful places to get your first tattoo. I’m happy to do it, I just wanted you to be aware it’s not going to be comfortable.”

“He’s right,” Buck said. May smacked him on the arm.

“I’m doing this. Shut up.”

Buck promptly shut his mouth and the tattoo artist did some sketching on his paper before reaching for a marker.

“I’m going to mark it out on your skin with this, and then you can tell me what you think. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

may’s tattoo

“Hey, my boyfriend and his stepsister are here. May and Evan?”

“Oh, yeah, come through. Do they know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, he just asked me to bring coffee for him and something for May to sip on.”

The receptionist at the tattoo store led Eddie through the back rooms before knocking on a door.

“Hey, Kevin, Evan’s boyfriend is here. Can he come in?”

There was confirmation from the other side and the receptionist gestured for Eddie to go inside.

“Knock yourself out, I guess.”

Eddie opened the door and Buck glanced up at him with a smile.

“Hi sweetheart- oh thank god.”

“Caramel frappe, with a drizzle of chocolate sauce in the frappe as well as one on top. That was one of your tamer coffee orders, baby.”

“You’re a saint. Kevin, you remember Eddie?”

“Hey man, how’s that tattoo going?”

Kevin was working along May’s ribs. May had a death grip on Buck’s hand and she kept trying to focus on her phone but Eddie could see she was in pain. Clearing his throat, he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Need another hand to break?”

“Shut up.”

Eddie put the coffee tray on the table, Buck giving him a kiss. Eddie settled on Buck’s knee, giving May’s wrist a squeeze.

“You doing okay?”

“It doesn’t sting or anything, it’s just… uncomfortable.”

“That’s good. We booked Kevin because he knows exactly how to do this without hurting you too badly.”

Buck took a sip of his frappe, sighing in relief.

“Now that is good.”

“When can we get you back in the chair, Eddie? Any plans?” Kevin asked, focus on the lines he was tracing.

“Uh, maybe. I have some ideas. My son just turned ten, so I was thinking about something for him but I’m not sure yet.”

may’s tattoo

Helping May off the chair, Buck pulled the mirror around and she beamed at the brand new tattoo on her side, about to be wrapped. Eddie smiled as May turned to hug Buck before she paused.

“Okay. No hugs for a little while. Wrap me, Kevin.”

Kevin wrapped the tattoo and put a non-stick dressing on top, finishing up. He passed May the gel for aftercare, smiling at Buck and Eddie.

“I’m sure these two can tell you how to use this stuff.”

“It’s pretty straightforward, right?” May said.

“Relatively,” Buck agreed. Leaning into Buck’s side, Eddie pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Bobby’s gonna kill us.”

“We can avoid him. Surely.”

“How long have you known Bobby, again?”

may’s tattoo

First thing Monday morning, Bobby leaned over the balcony and yelled for Buck and Eddie as they came in. Exchanging glances, they put their duffel bags in their locker and headed upstairs. Bobby was sitting at the dining table, hands together.

“So, May came home Saturday afternoon with a brand new tattoo. You two wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

“Uh-“

“-we did our research beforehand. Eddie and I both went to the same tattoo artist last time and I’ve worked with him before. I had a chat with him before May went in and we were both there the whole time.”

Bobby was quiet for a moment as he took in Buck’s confession. Shrugging, he got up.

“Sounds like May’s old enough to make her own decisions. Athena wants her safe, and I trust you two to make sure she is. Thank you for helping her make her own decisions.”

#911 #9-1-1 #May Grant #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #Bobby Nash #Athena Grant #911 on fox #9-1-1 on fox #911onfox

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Drowning Part 7

I felt like writing today, so you guys have two Drowning parts today. Enjoy, but beware that I did not edit this.

Masterlist

@shydragonrider @asrasmysoulmate

Warnings: possessiveness, medical whump, odd medical practices, anesthesia, major descriptions of vomit, striped of clothing (not sexual), restraints, IVs, needles, knives, surgery (intense descriptions)

Hero blinked her eyes open, taking in the scene around her. She wasn't in the chair anymore, she could move her arms and legs and there wasn't the consistent beep of the monitors hooked up to Supervillain's skin.

Her hands must've have recovered some of their strength for she dug them into the object she was laid upon. It sunk down, but rebounded when she released pressure.

A bed.

Her head was also set gingerly upon a soft pillow- caressing to give her optimum comfort.

Light streamed in through a window, landing on her torso. Hero stiffened, noticing a shadow pass through her abdomen where it stopped.

"Look at me."

Hero hesitantly brought her head up to meet Villain's blue eyes. Memories of their encounter streamed through her head, blocking any other thought process.

"There we go now dear," Villain sat on the foot of the bed, tracing some form of shape into the ruffled covers with a smug smile on his tanned face.

"What do you want?" Hero asked, though she halfway knew the answer.

"You, of course, my dear," Villain said with such confidence that it almost sounded arrogant, cocky...

Possessive.

"Well, now you have me," Hero stated, her tongue feeling bitterly dry. "Where's Supervillain?"

"You still care about him? I thought the doctor- oh sorry, your friends- did a pretty good job of taking those feelings away," Villain tutted. "What breakfast? I made a smoothie bowl." Then he added with a twinkle to his gaze, "Your favorite."

"Hmm no thanks," Hero smiled, still glaring at Villain as if that would remove him from her sight. His whole fit body was a vulgar sight.

Villain sighed dramatically. "Can't I do anything right for you?" He asked, voice in a bitter snarl. "Nope," he answered himself. "No because Hero is too righteous to take anything from a villain..."

"Quit with the guilt tripping. It is not working," Hero informed him, rolling her eyes. "I don't want anything because I don't need anything."

"You can't walk."

"Can to," Hero retorted, crossing her arms, relieved that those at least had some strength in them.

"Try it," Villain dared, leaning against the bed with his palms dug deeply into a mattress, a twinkle in his eyes. Hero vaguely noticed the decrease in swelling, the near fading scar on his right temple- a reminder of how long she had been caged up.

Hero swung her legs to the other side, dangling them down before putting all her weight on the shaky muscles. Gripping the sides of the bed, she pushed herself off and...

She fell, only to be caught by strong arms.

"There now. Proved you wrong dearie, now how does breakfast sound?" Villain asked, smiling down at his little captive.

Hero snarled, tucking her chin to her chest, before nodding subtley. Villain grinned even wider and carried her to the kitchen where she was sat down at the table.

"What are they doing to Supervillain when I'm not there?" Hero asked, looking down at her hands.

"Probably healing him up," Villain replied as he dished flax meal and chia seeds on the berry smoothie bowl. "And then do who knows what."

"We should rescue him," Hero said, nearly a whisper. Villain cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?" He asked nonchalantly. Hero nodded and took the cold metal spoon and began to eat the more than delicious breakfast.

"That is, hmm, not happening," Villain scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Why not?" Hero asked, pausing her eating.

Villain didn't answer. He just left and began to wash the dishes.

"Hello?" Hero called, but received no answer in return.

Within the next fews days of movement, Hero built up enough strength in her legs to carry herself across the house without as much as breaking a sweat.

"I want to watch a movie tonight," Villain said once when Hero was helping clean up after dinner.

"What movie?" Hero asked, never giving him an joy-filled statement once in her stay.

"Thor," Villain replied. "The first one."

"Why don't we watch Iron Man? The first one. Or whichever one Tony gets drunk at the party and fights Rhodey."

"Because Stark sucks, Loki is the best."

"Uh, nooo. Loki is the definition of bad acting," Hero rolled her eyes as she set a dirty plate into the sink.

"Stark is the definition of a crappy character," Villain retorted as he handwashed a knife. Hero studied him, watching as the soapy water drenched his long sleeve shirt. His soft blonde hair trickled into his icy blue eyes as his pink lips were pulled tight into a concentrated purse.

"Or maybe we watch the Kissing Booth," Hero murmured and joined Villain to rinse off the plates and utensils to put them in the dishwasher.

Villain smiled, but it wasn't his usual broad, creepy smile that made shivers run down Hero's spine. It was a smile one, a contented embarrassed one. Tied with his blushing cheeks, Hero would've even called it cute.

That was if he never betrayed her, or never kidnapped her.

If he never kept her from rescuing Supervillain in that wretched place.

Yes, Hero noticed that doors that could only be unlocked by Villain's fingerprints. The sealed windows that refused to budge.

And the fact that the one story trailer house was different from Villain's previous home that consisted of three stories with a gym room and a gaming room.

He was moved, or moved himself, specifically to keep Hero locked in.

Not even his charisma could change that foreboding fact.

《~~》

"Welcome Supervillain to the lab."

Supervillain blinked slowly as LED lights brushed past tender eyelids. The rolling floor memorized him slightly as he watched the equally placed lines fall under the gurney's wheels.

The gurney took a turn, causing a nauseating lurch of vertigo to pass through his stomach. He held back the urge to gag and instead burped repeatedly until he tasted the beginnings of vomit.

Tossing his head over to the side, Supervillain opened his mouth a threw up. He wanted to lurch, but the restraints around all points of movement other than his head and neck forbid that. He was left to allow the puke to streaming down his front, landing on his bound hands.

"Look at you!" One of the heroes chastised, slapping Supervillain hard across the face with a backhanded slap. The world around Supervillain whirled and he nearly threw up again if it wasn't for the gag- no, metal bit- shoved into his mouth, hitting his teeth and sending yet another gag reflex through his esophagus. But this time, he was forced to keep the vomit within and threw up inside his own mouth. Groaning and eyes rolling up slightly, Supervillain laid his head back against the thin pillow that protected his head against any form of head injury. Eyes fluttering closed, he tried to draw more sleep in.

Only for a sudden release in pressure to wake him up from his momentary slumber. The bit was removed and his body was held under a faucet for his mouth to be washed out. Someone came behind him and dumped a bunch of listerine into his unsuspecting mouth. Sputtering from the numbing taste of strong original mouthwash, Supervillain allowed his head to dangle- black hair wetted by the flowing hot water.

Next, his soiled clothing was removed- even his pants- and replaced by a faded pair of shorts. His torso was left bare.

The next movement was of him being laid across a metal table, his limbs once again being held in place by the four-point restraint system- padded metal contraptions barricading any form of movement or escape from the inevitable pain that was to come.

"Patient is restrained, begin procedure."

Nurses bustled around, two on each side of him, one by his feet, and one by his head.

"We are going to force the water out of his lungs," another voice, one that was not owned by any of the nurses surrounding him. Out of the corner of Supervillain's eye, he saw the doctor. The doctor, pacing around not even once looking at the stretched out patient before him.

"This will be painful, but we need the patient entirely conscious for this to work," the doctor instructed. "We are going to insert a tube directly into his lungs- on both sides-, piercing them, and using a sort of plunger instrument to force the liquid through his trachea. To ensure he does not choke, Medic and Nurse, once the plungers are released, you ladies need to unrestrain him and roll him over to his side. We go slow and the second all the fluid is expelled, we need to anesthetize the patient to due emergency surgery to stitch the lungs back together. Estimated recovery time is a couple days with the rapid-healing drug we will administer. Any questions? Prep the IV, Nurse2 be ready there."

The hairs on Supervillain's arms stood up and goosebumps picked his skin. The order from the doctor made him struggle against the restraints, pulling aggressively against them.

"Oh please don't do this," he blubbered, tears spilling from his ducts. "Don't do this. I can't do this. Oh please, please, please, please." He started sobbing, terrifed, as a nurse stuck his elbow with a needle.

"Prepare insertion."

Two sharp metal pieces found their home right below Supervillain's rib.

"Ultrasound."

A cool gel was squirted between the two sharp pricks before a rectangular object was placed upon it.

"Ultrasound ready."

"Begin incision."

A buzzing sound, right before a knife cut in his skin. No, not once, that was a lie, but two.

Two sharp, agonizing knives.

Supervillain screamed, wailed pitifully, as his body thrashed around.

"Stop, stop!" He begged, picking his head up only for hands to shove it back down. His fingers stretched out, clenched, anything for the torture to end.

"Left, move yours towards the ribcage a bit so you don't cut the liver."

Supervillain tensed, clouded thoughts coming to the surface. Cut my liver..., he thought before attempting to evade the knives cutting into his body.

"Don't, don't, don't!" he screeched. "Please."

"Prepare to pierce the lung."

Supervillain shoved himself downwards, but it did nothing with the unrelenting cuffs keeping him close to rock still.

The pure agony that he felt when the knife pierced the lung, then the way the knife evolved into a plunger, was indescribable.

Supervillain screamed. Screamed so loud that even the practiced nurses flinched. The doctor though stayed still, watching the procedure with his authoritive gaze.

"Release the patient."

His wrists and ankles were quickly let free by the wave of a card. He tried to curl in on himself to avoid the operation, but professional hands kept him stretched out.

"Start pumping at Level One to begin."

The horrendous feeling of the machine inside of Supervillain changed into a coveted one when the same machine started to pump. A plunger hit the liquid, sending it up and into his trachea.

Supervillain coughed, rolled over to his side. At first, he imagined that the left plunger would quit working as if it was kinked, but found out that it must've been electrically powered.

Mucus, blood, and water shot up through his trachea. Pain forgotten, Supervillain gagged and coughed the abhorrent liquid out until blackness began to crawl at the edges of his vision. It clouded his thoughts, but he body still involuntarily gagged, coughed, and spat all of his lung's content out.

"Stay awake," a rough voice sounded as his body was shook. Supervillain complied and returned to his coughing fit, agony once again returning to his veins and muscles.

Then, as soon as it started, the pressure ceased as soon as it started.

"Administer the anesthesia promptly."

A dial clicked, though Supervillain hardly registered it. Even before the sedative started pumping through his veins, he was losing consciousness.

A mask was placed above his mouth just as the world descended into blackness.

#supervillain whumpee #hero whumpee #villain whumper #villain caretaker #?#medical whump #pneumonia #anesthesia #drugged whumpee #heros and villains #not me making two characters argue over my two favorite characters from the marvel series #lab whump #surgery

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amxranthiine · 4 years ago

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c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii

cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her

A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!

Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way. After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly. Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.

He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be. Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out. Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently. “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good. “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss. I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins. Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known. As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair. The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking. “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger. The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies. “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair... He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation. Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door. In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling. After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable. It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants. I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts. “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories! Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked. “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude, “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)

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ampmiscfiles · 3 years ago

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Let Us Love You: Chapter 8

Start at the beginning

Bucky watched with a thoughtful expression as Peter left. There was no denying the omega hadn't looked at him quite like he had before.

He looked......unsure.

He debated on letting the others know, but he didn't have to say anything.

"That was interesting." Natasha said, eyebrows raised.

"What was?" Steve asked, turning from where Karen had walked off.

"Bucky and Peter." she answered.

The three other alphas snapped to attention.

"What about them?" Thor pushed.

"We just made eye contact. She's making something out of nothing." Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

"There was something different in that look." Natasha said, crossing her arms.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal. We all know he was close to the version of me in his world. He damn near shuts down every time he sees me. You'd be better off ignoring what you saw. It wasn't me he was looking at." Bucky glared before stomping off.

"Was it really a big deal?" Steve asked, looking at Natasha carefully. "I mean, Buck's not wrong. Peter had a connection with his version, it really could just be that."

"Oh, it's definitely a little bit of that. I could see it. He misses him. Most likely it's the same with Sam. Still, he knew he wasn't looking at his Barnes. He was trying to seen him in ours though."

"Perhaps this is a good thing." Thor hummed. "If we can convince him to talk to our friend Barnes, then he could see ours is the same as his!"

"That might work in theory, big guy," Tony nodded. "But how do you propose to get close enough to Peter to suggest it? How would you suggest it?"

"It's not a bad idea. I think Peter wants to talk to him, but our other selves have left a serious impression on him." Natasha said, moving to follow where Bucky had gone. "Let's go. We need to do a little brainstorming."

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

"Welcome to my awesome abode. I'd be glad to show you around. Maybe you'd like to see the inside of my bedroom?" Johnny winked, opening the door wide for Peter to enter.

"I've literally been here multiple times. I think I can get around just fine." Peter smirked. "Plus, I've seen your bedroom. It's a disaster."

"You've seen theother me'sroom. I can assure you thatmineis ready for company."

"I bet it is." Peter rolled his eyes. "Where is everyone?"

"In the kitchen. Come on, I'll win you over with my co-"

"You can't cook." Peter snorted.

"You don't know that!"

"What are we having?"

"It's.......um..."

"Exactly." Peter laughed, passing Johnny and heading towards the kitchen.

"Are you sure we're just friends? I feel like there's something between us."

"Yeah, a mutual respect for giving each other shit."

"You know, I think you're ignoring the fact I'm a different Johnny Storm here." Johnny pouted, crossing his arms.

"No. You're still the same idiot." Peter chuckled, flicking his forehead.

"I'll have you know, I'm a highly sought-after alpha. Everyone wants a piece of this." he gestured to his whole body.

"I bet. I had to fight the crowd of screaming fangirls just to get in here." Peter deadpanned.

The truth was, Johnny was every bit as good looking in this universe as he had been in Peter's. Still, just as he retained his looks here, he also retained his extreme level of self-confidence.

"I'll win you over yet, Parker."

"Uh hu. Sure. Just don't hold your breath."

Peter would never admit he had once had a major crush on his own Johnny.

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

"Peter!" Reed smiled as he and Johnny entered the kitchen.

Sue smiled as she looked up from pulling a pan of lasagna out of the oven.

"Hello, Peter. Everything is almost done. Why don't you all go join Ben."

"Yes! I have so ma-"

"Reed." Sue warned. "He only just got here."

"It's ok, really." Peter smiled.

"I was used to this." he said, motioning between him and Reed.

"Let's talk then. I'm curious about your story. The multiverse isn't a common topic I get to discuss!"

"Well, I can't tell you you're gonna like most of what I have to say. Still, it's great to see you guys again." Peter smiled, genuinely happy to see the family of four back together.

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

"Heard we missed all the fun." Clint called, stepping off the elevator with his bags. "You guys couldn't have waited?"

"Sure. Next time we'll ask the killer robot army to hang on and let our other team mates get back from their impromptu vacation." Tony huffed.

"You all seem in a better mood than when we left. Something happen?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at others.

The alphas were gathered in the common area talking eagerly amongst themselves.

"Yes." Thor smiled widely. "We have decided to properly court our omega. We shall return to the old ways."

"Who says romance is dead?" Tony grinned. "We're gonna woo the hell out of him!”

"This should be fun." Sam deadpanned.

“Oh ye of little faith. We're an extremely romantic bunch when let loose.” Tony scoffed.

“The guy couldn’t be more clear on his desire not to be your omega.”

“We’ve been talking to Karen and each other. Slow and steady wins the race and all that.”

“I think we made it back in perfect time then!” Clint grinned, opening his bag. “Brought some of Laura and the kids’ things. They missed you guys.”

Clint passed out the few items he had brought from his home. The scents of Laura and the three kids extended into the room. The calm of knowing their distant pack members were safe settled the atmosphere.

“We’ll get out to see them soon.” Natasha smiled, rubbing the small stuffed bunny she knew belonged to Nathaniel.

“We may even get to introduce them to Peter.” Steve said, a hopeful lit in his voice.

“Please don’t push that on him.” Bruce sighed. “It’s going to be enough on him dealing with you all, much less integrating into a full pack.”

“We are fully prepared to take it slow with our young omega.” Thor smiled.

The four other alphas nodded in agreement. There was no other option really. Sam was right in his statement that Peter seemed to want nothing to do with them, but Peter's conflict over Bucky had revived their hopes.

Maybe it wasn't such a lost cause after all.

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

“Your universe sucked.” Johnny scoffed from his seat next to Peter.

“I don’t always get along with Stark, but it’s deeply upsetting to hear about a version of him that was so violent.” Reed frowned, taking his own seat.

“I just can’t picture any of them being like that.” Sue agreed.

“Well, good thing ours arn’t like that. Not sure I could clobber them all at once.” Ben huffed.

Peter listened as the four voiced their opinions of the Avengers.To be honest, he was getting a little sick and tired of everyone telling him how wonderful they were.

They were wonderful in his world at once too!Everyone loved them and practically worshipped them!

Truth be told, there was no real understanding of the change. It wasn’t like anyone was opposing them. Who would? The Avengers risked their lives to help people, to keep them safe. Why would they evenneedto change?

Not that it mattered. They did change. They went from saving people tohurtingthem. They lorded their power over the people, and gleefully killed those who posed any real threat.

They were monsters!

Peter absently ran his hand along his thigh where he knew a long scar sat. A memorial to a particularly brutal up close fight with Black Widow. She had managed to stun him with her widow bites, slowing him down enough to prevent an unharmed escape. It could have been much worse, he knew, but he got lucky in where the bites had hit him.

She had been aiming for a fatal blow.

His movement had saved him from a slow death, but the blade had torn practically through to the bone in his thigh. If Bucky hadn’t shown up, she would have finished the job. As it was, he was out of commission for two weeks before the wound had healed, feeling had returned, and the leg moved without stiffness.

God, the blood she had spilt.

“Peter?”

Peter startled out of his thoughts to find the four looking at him.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. “I can get lost in thought sometimes.”

“Well, I’m more than willing to help you with that.” Johnny grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh I know you can. You always could bore me right to sleep.” Peter snarked.

The others laughed and began passing around the food as Johnny pouted.

"So, you said there are no second genders where you're from?" Sue asked, curious as to how Peter was handling the change.

"No, we definitely didn't have alphas, betas, and omegas where I'm from. It was.....surprising to say the least." Peter winced.

"Well, you seem to be doing alright as a beta." Reed smiled.

"Beta?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Your scent is barely there. Beta scents are generally muted. Yours seems a little more so. Maybe it's because you weren't originally from here. Do you not know your second gender though, or did you think you hadn't gained one?" Sue frowned.

"I would have figured Matt and Karen would have explained things to you."

Peter looked around the table, unconsciously touching his wrist where one of the patches sat under his sleeve and web shooter.

"No," Peter hesitated. "They did, I.....I'm just still adjusting it all. I mean, I lived 26 years without all this, so it's easy to forget sometimes."

Ben, Sue, and Reed nodded, striking back up light conversation and more questions about himself and how he was getting along. Out the corner of his eye, Peter couldn't ignore the strange look Johnny kept giving him.

"So, what are you going by if you can't be a Parker?" Ben asked, drawing Peter's thoughts away from Johnny.

"Jones." Peter sighed.

"Any relation to Jessica Jones?" Reed asked.

"Yeah." Peter huffed. "Everyone thought they were so funny when they decided to make me Jessica's cousin."

"What's funny about that?" Sue frowned. "Did the two of you date back in your world?"

"Not hardly." Peter laughed.

"No, they just thought my initials were a nice joke.They left my first and middle name then changed my last."

"What's your name then?"

"My name is Peter Benjamin Par...err, Jones. Peter Benjamin Jones."

"I'm sure you'd make a delicious sandwich." Johnny snorted.

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

A few hours had passed before Peter noticed the time. He had been enjoying himself while getting acquainted with this version of the Four. They were practically identical to his, making connecting with them extremely easy.

“Well, I guess I better get going. Karen’s a worrier.”

“Don’t let Matt fool you, Peter,” Sue smirked. “He’s a worrier too with people he cares about. I saw you two talking.”

“Matt was the first person I went to after I got here. I was good friends with him.” Peter smiled.

He was happy to have Matt and Karen, and to be gathering back all the people he lost, but Ben, May, Bucky and Sam were never far from his mind. The people he wanted most were the people he’d never get.

After promising to visit again, and give a demonstration of his strength levels compared to Ben's, Johnny led Peter out.

"So, Pete," Johnny started, unusually hesitant compared to his normal composure.

"The others didn't press, but I'm going to. You're an omega, aren't you?"

Peter blinked in surprise. He had yet to have to admit his second gender to anyone on his own yet. Everyone who knew, had either discovered from his scent, or been told by someone else.

"I could see the scent patch occasionally when your sleeve moved up and your, whatever those are on your wrists, shifted."

Peter swallowed hard, not missing the fact Johnny had moved into his space.

"I...uh.."

"It's ok, Pete." Johnny smirked, stepping back. "I'm not going to blab your secret. I am, however, going to knock you off your feet! You'll give in to me yet, Jones."

"I don't think you want to try, Storm." Peter replied, breathing a little easier as Johnny's alpha pheromones calmed.

"Why? Do you already have an alpha? I just don't see any mating marks."

Mating marks?

Peter frowned. He hadn't heard of any 'mating marks'. Was there more he had to learn? Maybe he should keep blowing Karen's lessons off.

"No. I don't have an alpha, and I'm not interested in one." Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Fair enough." Johnny smiled, holding up his hands in surrender. "But that doesn't mean I won't keep trying."

Peter sighed. While he wasn't about to let Johnny Storm in on his alpha problem, he couldn't forget how the Avengers had reacted to Wade when they realized the two were hanging out together.

Deadpool hadn't been in any real danger since he could easily regenerate, but Johnny couldn't.

If anything Karen had already told him had gotten through, it was that alphas could be possessive. He had already seen it in action, and the Avengers were anything but normal alphas.

Still, he wasn't going to let that stop him from hanging around people he actually trusted.

They would just have to deal.

If they couldn't, and tried to hurt his friends, he'd be ready.

As he made his way back toward Matt and Karen's, he didn't even notice how his thoughts on the Avengers had changed from "when", to "if".

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

"You smell like Johnny Storm." Karen frowned when he walked through the door.

"Hello Karen. I see your fine after today's events. My dinner with the Four was great. If was nice to catch up. Thanks for asking."

"Don't sass me, Peter Jones." Karen glared, following him to his room, passing a smirking Matt along the way.

"What if you had run into your alphas? You're unmated and smelling of an alpha that's not one of them! Even worse that it's Johnny with his flirty reputation."

"I'm not avoiding friends just becausetheymight not like it, Karen!" Peter shouted, turning around with his own glare.

"They don't own me and never will. I don't want them! I don't trust them! It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of them. I can't stand them!"

"Peter, please," Karen tried.

"No. This discussion is over Karen. I'm never going to be with the Avengers. It's not happening."

"You won't even give them a chance!" Karen shouted, her frustration rising. "You're so hell bent on seeing them as the same villains they were in your world that you refuse to see them as the heroes they are here! This isn't your old world, Peter! You can't keep hanging on to what happened there. You're here now!"

The two glared at each other, neither wanting to admit defeat.

"You don't know what you're talking about Karen. You have no idea what I've been through."

"I have a damn good idea, Peter! You've made no effort to hide your disdain for them. You have no problems admitting what those other Avengers did to you. I know it's left physical as well as mental scars, but did you ever stop and think that maybe getting to know these Avengers could help you heal?"

There was complete silence as Karen's words hung in the air.

"Getting to know them and seeing they're who you wish your Avengers had been could be good for you. You could finally relax a little and try to move on. You've been here for months now Peter, and yet you still hold everything from your past so close it's like it all happened yesterday."

Karen sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"We're all still here, Peter. Nothing has happened to any of us and they've had more than enough opportunity to hurt us if they wanted to. They've had plenty of chances to kill the others and make it look like a casualty of a fight and no one would question it, but they haven't. They haven't, and you need to realize and accept it."

Without another word, Karen turned and headed into her and Matt's bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

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

Anger rippling under his skin, Peter left the apartment and headed towards Luke's bar. Maybe he could find something there to keep himself busy.

Anything to get his mind off his....whatever that was, with Karen.

Shoving his way into the back door, the sounds from the front filtered in through his ears. The place was at peek hour.

"I swear, if one more asshole-Peter?"

Peter looked over as Luke stormed into the back, grabbing a bucket and mop.

"Rough night?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, it's gonna be for the shit that just broke a beer bottle over a guy's head. They're both about to clean up their little mess, then get thrown out on their asses." Luke grumbled, kicking the door back open and shouting.

Peter decided to hang out in the back, letting Luke handle things before making his way up front.

"Get out here, Jones." Luke snapped, sticking his head back through the door. "Make yourself useful and come serve some drinks."

Grinning, Peter slid his way behind the bar and got to work.

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

It was slowing down to the more, quieter patrons of the night. These were the people Peter liked the most. While the more boisterous crowd could be fun, they could also be annoying and demanding. Some even tried to get a little handsy, over the bar.

This crowd though, this was crowd was just looking for a little break from the world.

Peter heard someone sit at the bar while he was crouched, placing glasses back into their places. Rubbing his hands on his pants, he stood up to greet the customer and....froze.

Sam Wilson stared back, as equally surprised to see him.

The two just stared at each other, neither knowing how to react.

"Hey, Pete-" Luke stopped as he took in what was happening.

He wasn't quite sure what to do, and it didn't appear as if Peter or Sam knew either. Had it been any of the alphas, Luke would have easily jumped in, knowing how stressed Peter would be.

Sam wasn't an alpha though.

“Let me start by saying your secret is safe with me.” Sam said. “I’m pretty burnt out on alpha desperation at this point. I just want to have a drink and enjoy it.”

Peter stared at him a moment before moving forward.

“What would you like?”

“Whatever you recommend.”

Peter looked at him again. Guess Sam was willing to trust his judgement in drinks in any universe.

Sam nodded as Peter slid a glass across the counter top and took a swig.

“I hope we’re not gonna spend the entire time in here in this strange, tense silence.”

Peter sighed.

“This isn’t....this isn’t easy for me.”

“I’ve gotten that impression. I also heard you were close to your world’s Bucky and I.”

“Y...yeah.” Peter frowned. “By the end, they were my best friends.....they were all I had left.”

The two were silent again as Peter busied himself with meaningless tasks.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Sam said suddenly. “I think I would have reacted the same way.”

Peter stood with his back to Sam, debating on his next move.

Finally, he turned.

“You’re a lot like him, well, when he wasn’t giving me shit anyway.” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, I can give you shit if that’s what you’re looking for spider boy.” Sam grinned.

Peter grinned back, strangely comfortable in this Sam’s presence.

Maybe all Sam’s were pretty much the same.

“Look. I know you’re probably willing to talk to me like thishere. I can see Cage keeping an eye on you, but I think, if we got along in your world, we could get along here.”

Peter hesitated, the since of unease returning.

“I’m not trying to hand you over to the wolves!” Sam said quickly. “I’m more so trying to offer up another friendship. One that gets me away from everyone at the tower and one that offers you.....” Sam hesitated, unsure if he should continue.

“Maybe something that offers you a bit of what you lost?”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this Sam’s offer. As much as he missed his own, and as similar as the two seemed, could he really ever think of this Sam as a friend on par with his?

“I...um...”

“You don’t have to answer me now.” Sam assured. “Maybe just think about it. I realize I’m part of the enemy here, but I promise I’m not a bad guy.”

“Yeah.” Peter snorted. “You’re not trying to get into my pants.”

“You do realize there’s more to it than that, right?”

“I’m not really interested.” Peter replied. “You don’t know what it was like to see them hurt people. To see them kill you and Bucky.”

“I’d offer up the argument that these Avengers haven’t done that considering Bucky and I are clearly still alive, but I have the feeling you’ve heard that line enough.”

“That obvious?”

“From five words in.”

Peter let out a breath, running his hand through his hair. It was hard having someone who looked like his lost friend be so close, and yet so far.

"I'll share a secret with you, kid." Sam grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

This caught Peter's attention as he leaned onto the bar.

"There are three betas in the tower. Me, Clint and Bruce-"

"I...I like Dr. Banner." Peter mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked, unsure he had heard right.

"I....I like Dr. Banner. He.......he had it hard in my world. Hulk is a force to be reckoned with. He can be easily enraged to the point that even the intelligence he does have can be quickly over written. When the Avengers...turned.....they held him hostage. Bruce was far to gentle in nature to side with them, so they held him captive, using Hulk against him. They'd do whatever they could to bring out Hulk, then set him loose on the city."

Sam sat in stunned silence. He could never imagine putting Bruce Banner through that kind of torment. Bruce struggled with balancing himself as both separate and part of Hulk.

"I wanted to free him. Tried several times, but it never worked. They kept him in an underground bunker beneath the tower. I only saw him once. I'm not even sure how I managed to make it that far. I've never forgotten how defeated, miserable and pained he looked inside that glass cage they kept him in."

"Glass doesn't sound like it would hold-"

"Oh, it was 'Hulk proof'." Peter hissed. "Before things went bad, Bruce and Tony created it to contain him if things got to bad and he needed somewhere safe to be until he returned back to himself."

"They used his own creation against him." Sam sighed, running his hand down his face. "Guess that explains why you didn't do anything to Bruce that day."

"I told Matt and Karen it was because he let me out. I'm telling you the truth because you live with them and need to know what they're capable of doing."

"If it makes you feel any better," Sam started. "We don't have a Hulk room or cage or anything."

Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Serious!" Sam defended. "Bruce comes and goes just like the rest of us. He pretty much stays at the tower though. We don't have many instances where the Hulk is needed, but Bruce's medical training comes in handy a lot. Even stepped up a notch when you showed up." Sam snickered.

"Are you.....enjoying me hurting them?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Immensely. Clint and I, don't tell him I agree with him, think it's amazing."

Peter didn't stop the upturn of his lip at Sam's grin.

"Omega's don't typically kick their alpha's asses on the regular. I mean, I've heard of those mutant omegas at Xavier's going out and fighting, but I've never seen them do it in person. You, on the other hand, I have watched fling every alpha on the team around like rag dolls. It's humbling really."

Sam's laughter filled the small space between him and Peter.

"Well, I do have a history of fighting the hierarchy." Peter smiled.

"Tell you what," Sam said, holding out his hand. "Let's start fresh. No alternate identities. Just two guys meeting at a bar. I'm Sam Wilson."

Peter looked at the outstretched hand and up at Sam's face. His spider-sense remained, as it had the entire time, silent. Slowly, Peter took the outstretched hand.

"Peter Jones."

Sam raised and eyebrow.

"Doesn't surprise me." Peter rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd all know my real name."

"Why change it?"

"Because a version of me existed here at one time." Peter replied, looking away. "I can't be Peter Parker when he's dead."

"I guess not one that looks just like him." Sam nodded. "I'm guessing there's also family then?"

"Yeah." Peter replied, not willing to say more.

"Alright then, Peter Jones, it was nice to meet you. I better be getting back home though." Sam smiled, standing up and taking his jacket off the back of the chair.

"You'll cover that for me, right?"

Peter looked down where Sam nodded at the empty glass.

"No way Wilson."

"To think, I wanted to be nice to you." Sam said, pulling some bills out of his pocket.

"There's no such thing as free alcohol, man." Peter grinned.

"Then what's the point of being friends with the bartender?"

"The fabulous company?"

"I know that's what you get, I'm still trying to figure out what I'm getting." Sam smirked.

"I'll tell you what, this time." Peter's grinned turned wicked. "You'll get to keep a place you can go where the other Avengers can never bother you. I'll personally see to their exits if they ever show up."

Sam barked out a laugh as he straightened out his jacket.

"Well, if they ever show up, it won't be because of me. With that said, I appreciate your willingness to uphold the sanctity of my sacred drinking hole."

The two nodded at each other as Sam walked out the door, followed shortly after by the last of Luke's customers.

"You ok?" Luke asked as he restocked the bar while Peter swept.

"Surprisingly, yeah. Dealing with just Sam was way different than the others."

"Well, being a beta probably helps." Luke shrugged, not wanting to verbally address the other issues.

"Maybe." Peter nodded.

"You worried you'll have more 'customers'?" Luke asked after a moment. "I can't exactly say I can ban the Avengers..."

"No." Peter said, looking up at Luke. "I'm actually not."

Luke stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize-"

"I don't think he'll tell. Not them anyway. Maybe Barton and Dr. Banner, but not them."

"Well, I heard about Banner, but what about Barton. What's the feelings on him?"

Peter stopped sweeping, letting his thoughts gather themselves.

"He was just as ruthless as the others in my world. Tony made him explosive arrows. He caused so much damage with those. Lots of innocent people lost their homes and their lives. I don't trust him any more than the others."

Peter's face turned stony as he thought about the archer.

"He shot me in the back once. Went right through my right side."

"He did what?" Luke growled, walking from behind the bar and over to Peter.

"Yeah, right here." Peter said, lifting his shirt and tracing the scar on the side of his stomach, then moving to the part on his back.

Luke looked at the two scars, not missing a few others as well.

"Jesus, kid."

"I keep trying to tell you all. The Avengers can't be trusted this blindly! They could turn at any moment, and you could end up with the same scars as me......or worse."

Luke frowned as he watched Peter try to keep his breathing calm. He wasn't sure Peter having contact with Sam was a good idea anymore. It didn't matter what intentions the man had, being around him definitely opened Peter up to chances of having to see the other members of the team.

"I worry though, that I'm letting positive memories of Sam cloud my judgement here." Peter sighed. "I'm worried desperation for that connection is taking over."

"You can always keep to meeting here. You never have to meet him anywhere you don't want to." Luke shrugged. "I know you're tired of hearing it kid, so I'll save a lot of it."

Peter frowned, unsure of exactly what Luke was going to say.

"I don't have a problem with the Avengers, but I'm also not you. I don't have your past, so my opinion means nothing. Sam though, Sam's not an alpha. He's a beta with no romantic interest in you. I don't think it would be a big deal to consider the option of some form of friendship with him. Shit on the others if you don't want to."

Peter didn't know what to say. He was genuinely worried as to what accepting Sam's offer might lead to. The worst scenarios running through the forefront of his mind. Still, the possible benefits kept pushing their way in.

"I'll think about it.

#let us love you #luly #a/b/o dynamics #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #Peter Parker/Steve Rogers #Peter Parker/Thor #Peter Parker/Natasha Romanoff #Peter Parker/Bucky Barnes #Starker #spidershield #winterspider #spiderwidow

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

Naughty Neighbors pt. 1 (Elriel)

Synopsis: Elain’s stuck in a dead end relationship, bored beyond belief with her life. When she befriends her brand new neighbor, it’s like taking a breath of fresh air. But with each day of friendship, she grows more and more drawn to him and the past he’s desperate to escape. His smile is all she thinks about, invading her head at the most inconvenient moments. He’s made his intentions with her perfectly clear, but she’s determined to resist his charms. She won’t allow him to turn her calm, quiet life upside down. Right?

I’M SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG. Moving did NOT go smoothly, and my professors are taking online classes a little ~seriously~ even though they haven’t started yet lol.

Part 2 should be out by Wednesday, and it’s in Azriel’s POV :))))) This one’s a slow burn ladies and gentlemen, so get ready for some pent up desire

______________________________________________________________

Elain rolled over in bed, somehow too hot and cold at the same time. Gods, she was miserable. Her boyfriend was next to her, snoring loudly, and the sound did nothing to help her worsening mood.

She was so exhausted-- when you owned a flower shop, wedding season was always hectic--but sleep had been refusing to find her for the past hour.

It didn’t help that she had a moose-sounding man in the room.

Reminding herself that she loved him and definitely didn’t want to strangle him in his loud ass sleep, she rolled over and pulled a pillow on her head.

Somehow, after two years of dating, she hadn’t gotten used to how loudly Lucien snored.

Thank the gods we don’t live together, she thought, then admonished herself for it.

They would eventually.

She just had to get used to it.

The pillow over her head became suffocating, only adding to the over-heating problem, so she threw the covers off, grabbed a robe, and walked out. After going up a few flights of stairs, she found herself on the roof.

It was the place she always went when she was stressed or sad or just needed to see the night sky. She’d even started a garden a few months ago, so she started to head over to check on it.

But then she saw who was sitting on the bench in front of her rose bushes and paused.

Paused and stared, because the man sitting in front of her wearing dark clothes and a smirk was both classically beautiful and dangerous.

He was the kind of man most men would do anything not to fight and women would do anything to bed.

Smoke curled around him, and the shadows somehow seemed to cling to his tall frame. The stranger dwarfed the small bench, large frame taking up enough space for two. Even though he was sitting, she could tell he was well over six feet. And built like a Greek god, if the way his black, long sleeve t-shirt clung to his chest was any indication.

He was the most attractive man she’d ever seen, and that was without taking in the strong, clean shaven jaw, hazel eyes, and hair the color of spilled ink.

And oh fuck, he was studying her, too. A shiver ran over her as she realized she was covered in just her robe.

Her body begged her to both run far away and draw closer, and for some reason, she listened to the urge to do the latter.

“Who are you?” she asked as she walked through the maze of flowers.

“Who are you?” he shot back, not answering her question. Her body reacted to his voice alone, goosebumps raising at the cold but somehow soothing tone.

A breeze caused her hair to swirl around her as she replied, “I’m Elain. What are you doing here?”

He jerked his chin at the cigarette dangling from his fingertips, but that wasn’t exactly what she’d been asking. “No, I mean what are you doing here?”

“I live here, Elain.”

She realized she shouldn’t have told him her name, because now he could say it in that sexy, very manly voice of his and it would do strange things to her sanity.

He said her name like a lover would, soft and sensual, but also coldly amused. He sounded like he knew her, like he’d known her for years.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” His eyes are laughing at her now, but he didn’t sound mean.

"Which apartment?”

“4B.”

Elain’s eyebrows pinched together at that news. She lived in 4A and hadn’t even noticed she’d gotten a new neighbor. Then again, she’d been at work all day. “Oh. I guess we’re neighbors then.”

A small smile graced his full lips, and she studied it before forcing her eyes back to his. “Lucky me.”

Oh, gods. Was he... flirting with her?

She didn’t even know. It had been so long since someone had that she’d forgotten what it sounded like.

So she rolled her eyes good naturedly, leaning against the brick railing encasing the roof.

“Sneaking out for a smoke?” His voice was like gravel and smoke, and his hazel eyes raked over her body in a way that made her shiver.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, then extended the cigarette to her in question. She smiled but shook her head and said, “I don’t smoke.”

“A good girl, then.” He didn’t sound at all bothered by that statement. And once again, his hazel eyes skirted down her body. “Do you want to sit down?”

There was almost no room on the bench, but it beat standing on the edge of the roof on such a breezy night, so she walked over and sat as far away from him as possible.

It was still way too close.

Her arm was pressed against hers, allowing her to feel the dense muscle covering it. She doubted she could wrap both hands around it completely, but she shut down the urge to try as she crossed her legs casually.

The warmth from his body seeped into her, goosebumps raising where they touched. “You’re warm,” she commented stupidly.

“Are you cold?” he asked, hazel eyes scanning her face, then dropping slightly.

No small amount of horror grew when she realized what he’d glanced at. She crossed her arms over her chest, then scowled when he grinned.

Her eyebrows flew up, though, when a heavy arm landed across her shoulders and tucked her into a warm, firm side.

Oh, gods above every place they connected was tingling. Heat rushed into her--both between her legs and from his side.

She needed a heat CT.

“Is this your garden?” he asked, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from her.

She nodded, then realized her head was pressed against his chest. Elain pulled away slightly, then asked, “Will you tell me your name?”

His hazel eyes were dark, like molten caramel. She felt lost in him. “What will you give me in return?”

Every inch of her body went taut and loose at the same time. Her thigh was suddenly warm, and she looked down to see his hand resting on her skin. The back of his hand was covered in scars and tattoos and his palm was covered in callouses, but it was nothing but gentle and warm on her thigh.

Her maybe-neighbor was perfectly still, his face cool and composed while he waited for her to react. But his eyes told her exactly what would happen if she leaned into him just a tiny amount.

And gods, she wanted to.

Something was holding her back though. A small voice was screaming at her, and a disgusting amount of guilt crept up her shoulders. Almost jumping out of her skin, she remembered whose existence she’d forgotten completely.

Lucien.

Her boyfriend.

The man she’d been attempting to sleep next to not an hour ago.

She pulled away, instantly missing his warmth. “I have a boyfriend,” she said unceremoniously and with about as much enthusiasm as someone declaring grandma was dead.

His eyes went a little darker, even as the corner of his lips twitched. “Hm.”

“I should go.” That was beyond true.

Lucien was trusting, and their relationship was relaxed, but practically snuggling with another man wasn’t right. Even if it was all she wanted to do at the moment.

“Okay.”

“I hope we can be friends in the future,” she said, trying to maintain polite normalcy. “But only if you tell me your name.”

Once again, those amber eyes slid over her, and she was very, very grateful she’d crossed her arms. “We’re never going to be friends, Elain.”

The way he said it didn’t feel like a rejection; it felt like a challenge. Her body thrummed, even as she shook her head slightly and started back down the stairs.

The picture of his face followed her all the way into her apartment, sticking in her head until she fell asleep with a soft smile on her face.

The next morning, she woke up and had breakfast with Lucien, who hardly glanced up from his eggs as he asked, “Where’d you go last night? I heard you get up.”

Her heart started to race even though she’d done nothing wrong. Technically. Calming her voice, she said, “I went to the roof to check on the garden. Couldn’t sleep.”

Lucien just shrugged, knowing this was pretty typical for her.

She knew she should tell him she’d met their new neighbor, but for some reason, her mouth stayed shut. Probably because she didn’t even know his name.

It definitely wasn’t because she’d almost kissed him.

“I have to go; I have an early meeting.” He worked at a corporate finance place downtown, so this wasn’t exactly groundbreaking. He got up from the table, navy suit slightly wrinkled, and kissed her brow. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll come back Friday, okay?”

This also wasn’t news. He stayed at her place a few nights a week, most of the time Sunday and Friday. She didn’t go to his that often because she didn’t have a car and liked to walk to work.

Elain nodded and smiled, then went to get ready once he’d left.

Were twenty-four year-olds supposed to feel like this? Like they were stuck on a conveyor belt, destined to do the same thing for the rest of her life?

It sometimes felt like she’d gone to sleep and woken up in the life of a fifty-year old housewife.

Whenever he stayed over, he liked coming home to a clean house and meal, so she cooked for him, pretending to love it, when in reality, she’d be just as happy eating takeout on the sofa.

She greeted him with a smile, and they talked and watched TV together, then went to bed at the same time every night.

And gods, it was starting to get boring.

Even the sex was starting to follow a routine. It wasn’t written down, but Elain had noticed they slept together at the beginning of the month, then not at all for a few weeks.

She missed the beginning of the relationship, when they were so in love and crazy about each other they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

She didn’t expect fireworks after being together for so long, but... it had only been two years. And despite never mentioning it, Lucien was bound to propose at some point.

Could she do this for the rest of her life? Go to work, come home, cook, go to bed? Did she love him enough for fifty years of the same routine?

That thought shocked her. Of course she did.

He was perfect for her. He didn’t keep secrets, had a good job, and treated her with kindness and respect. So what if the fizzle had worn off?

So what if she got more turned on sitting on a cold bench next to a complete stranger than after actual foreplay with her boyfriend?

It meant nothing.

At least, that’s what she told herself as she put on a light blue dress and sandals and fixed her hair.

Once she was ready, she walked outside and started down the street to her store. It was only a five minute walk, one of her favorite things about her apartment’s location.

“Elain,” came a low voice from right next to her.

Surprised, she turned to see her brand new neighbor walking next to her. Just like last night, he was dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt. But with the light she could make out his features better, and it did nothing to sway her of how attractive she found him.

“Good morning.”

He smiled, and she found herself mimicking the expression.

I mean, when someone who looked like a villainous Prince Charming smiled at you, you smiled back.

“Better now,” he told her in a low tone, still smirking.

“You’re a horrible flirt,” she laughed, brushing off how the comment made her skin tingle.

“Horrible?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting one as they walked. “I’ll have to step up my game then. You look beautiful today.”

“I amend my statement. You’re a mediocre flirt.”

He blew a cloud of smoke around him and rolled his eyes, and she grinned agian. She did that a lot around him, she realized. It was easy to.

There was just something alluring about him. He was dark and cold and beyond mysterious, but also sensual in a way she’d never seen before. It both threw her off guard and made her want to be reckless for once in her life.

“Where are you going?”

“Work. I own the flower shop down on third street,” she told him proudly. The shop was her life’s work, and it made her insanely happy to tell people about it.

“The Archeron?” he asked, and her brows shot up in surprise. “I work across the street. Start today, actually.”

“Oh, at the tattoo place?”

The idea of getting a needle stabbed into her skin over and over again made her nauseous.

Azriel noticed her expression. “You ever come in, I’ll give you a discount.”

“I’ll absolutely never take you up on the offer, but thank you. If you ever want a lovely bouquet, feel free to come on in.”

His hazel eyes met hers. “And what if I just want to see you? Do I still have to buy flowers?” There was a blush on her cheeks, and his eyes darkened when he saw it. “I like making you blush.”

Gods above, the man wasn’t giving up.

She was surprised to find she didn’t want him to.

She deflected anyway. “Fine. You’re an average flirt.”

“Oh, baby girl, you have no idea.” They were somehow already in front of her shop, and he looked through the window and grimaced. “On second thought, if I want to see you, I’ll just knock on your door. Lot of flowers in there.”

“That’s kind of the point,” she reminded him, blocking out the picture of Azriel coming over to her apartment. “If I want to see you, who should I ask for?”

Humor flickered across his hard features, but he still shot down the request.

“If you need me, I’ll be across the street encouraging people to make horrible decisions.”

Laughing, she unlocked the store and watched him walk away. Somehow, even though it was broad daylight, he was a spot of darkness on the street.

She didn’t even know his name, but she was tempted to follow him, just to see his smile again. If seeing him smile made her feel that happy, how would it be to hear his laugh?

More than anything, she wanted to find out.

And Elain knew right there that he’d been completely right: they would never be friends.

______________________________________________________________

Part 2

@cursebreaker29 @sjmships @starrynightsbooks @lovemollywho @januarystears @astreia-oniria @wineywitch202 @captainthefangirlofhp @perseusannabeth @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @poisonous00

#azriel #azriel x elain #elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain #elain archeron #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acofas #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight

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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Traumtänzer (Pt. 9)

Part 8

Part 10

German Translation:

Du sprichst Deutsch - You speak German? Ja - Yes

“ I think we should talk about what Nagel said,” you had a feeling Helmut was speaking Sokovian to butter you up.

You shook your head resolutely, keeping quiet as you stared unblinkingly at your book.

“ I think it’s important that we do,” he insisted, closing his own book and clasping his hands in his lap.

“ He was lying,” you mumbled, still fruitlessly trying to focus on your book.

“ I don’t think he was, Maus,” Helmut sighed, and tried to make eye contact, but you were being stubborn. “ Look at me, Y/N,” he was speaking softly, almost gently, but you didn’t look over until his fingers gripped your chin and turned your head.

“ He can’t have been telling the truth. I would have known if they’d given me the serum,” the topic had you on the verge of tears, but Helmut didn’t let up.

“ And if he was telling the truth? Let’s look at your wounds, shall we?” You blanched. You’d forgotten about the wounds, they didn’t hurt anymore. You pulled down the blanket to expose your thighs and, lo and behold, all that was left was a shiny pink scar and some already dissolving stitches. You gulped.

“ I’ve always had Wolverine-like healing. I just heal fast,” your mouth was dry, but Helmut raised an eyebrow.

“ How do you know about Wolverine?”

“How do you?” You countered.

“ I make it my place to know about powerful mutants,” he shrugged.

“ I met him once when he was in a fight in Berlin. He got a bullet to the skull and it just… popped out and healed,” you shuddered at the mental image.

“ So, what you’re telling me then is that you’re not a super soldier, but a mutant?” he was pushing your buttons, but you wouldn’t get angry.

“ No, I’m not a mutant. But I’m also not a super soldier. I just heal fast,” you were resolute, and Helmut sighed.

“ Come with me,” he held out his hand as he stood, and you took it hesitantly. After throwing some sleeping pants on, Helmut ushered you out of the room and into the great room where the other two men were entertaining themselves.

“We’re going to prove that Maus is not a super soldier,” Helmut announced to the room, and you let go of his hand, backing up and shaking your head. “What, you don’t want to prove that you’re just a regular human?”

“I don’t hate the idea of knowing if you’re a super soldier or not,” Sam commented, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “What? It would be good to have another super soldier with combat training on our side.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “So, how are we going to do this?”

“You’re going to punch James,” Helmut said matter-of-factly, but you balked at the thought of punching one of your allies. “Fine with me,” James sighed and rolled his shoulders back. “Come at me, kid,” he smirked a little as he stood. You looked back and forth between Helmut and James.

“ Mein Gott, what have I gotten myself into?” you sighed and approached James, who was standing rather relaxed for someone who was about to get hit.

You took on an attacking stance and bounced on the balls of your feet, your limited combat training coming back in pieces.

“If I break my hand, I’m going to kill you,” you directed that at Helmut, who chuckled. Apparently, he was confident you were super strong.

You threw a punch at James, who caught it in his flesh hand.

“You’re not even trying,” James raised an eyebrow. “My grandma hits harder.”

You frowned, rude.

You pulled your arms in, close to your torso, and threw a one-two combo at him, with a little more force.

“I really think it would just be best if you put all of your force behind it. Or else we’ll never know,” James spoke with a smile on his face, though you didn’t share his positive sentiment.

“I feel very weird attacking a man who isn’t attacking me back,” you finally said, and James smirked.

“I can fix that,” he said right before he threw a punch at you, which you thankfully dodged.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, backing up a step as he came at you with another punch. “Rude!” You shouted as he kept throwing punches at you with his flesh arm, always keeping the metal one away from you.

This time, when you dodged his punch, you used your momentum to throw one back at him, which he easily dodged. Fine, you supposed you were just going to spar now. It was a lot of dodging, none of your hits ever met his flesh, but you had a feeling he was having too much fun because he actually surprised you with a punch from his left hand. You knew you weren’t going to be able to dodge it, so you braced yourself and shot out your flat palm and - honestly it was maybe the coolest thing you’ve ever done - you caught his metal fist in your own small hand. There was only a little movement as you adjusted for the weight of his punch.

He gawked at you.

You stared at him with wide eyes.

Everything was quiet.

“Please tell me that was a full-force punch because that was the coolest thing I’ve seen since Spiderman,” Sam finally interrupted, and you let out a nervous giggle.

“Hit me,” James was all serious now. He had put a lot of force behind that punch, and you caught his metal arm with little to no effort.

“I don’t want to hit you,” you countered, and he took on a defensive stance.

“I’m not going to dodge. I want you to hit me in the stomach.”

You bit your lip. You supposed this was all fun and games to them, but it would seriously wreak havoc on your mental state.

You paused, and then with all of the force you could muster, you hit the former Winter Soldier in the stomach. He had rock solid abs, and it hurt, but you were pretty sure it hurt him more than it hurt you because he grunted and stumbled back into the wall behind him.

“Jesus Christ,” he coughed, trying to get his diaphragm to work again after being smashed with a tiny fist.

You froze up, your knees locked and brain whirring a million miles a minute. What if you were a super soldier? What did that mean for you?

“Very interesting,” Helmut commented, and you whirled around to point a finger at him.

“This was your idea,” you accused him, but he stayed infuriatingly calm and raised his hands up in the air placatingly.

“Aren’t you glad you know? You just nearly knocked the Winter Soldier off his feet with one hit,” he looked impressed, but you were sure he was conflicted. He was against super soldiers.

“I think it’s time for us to go look in the city for clues on Karli. Maus would you like to stay here?” Sam finally broke your angry silence and you nodded, you needed some alone time. Maybe you’d be able to sleep.

They left and for a while, you just stood still, unable to move. Finally though, you retreated to the bedroom for a nap. This time when the forest appeared to you, you just wandered amongst the puddles, not going into any of them, and you enjoyed a dreamless sleep.

By the time you woke, the men were still out, so you dressed in some jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt to wander outside and find them.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one looking for them.

“Hey,” you greeted as you walked up behind the trio, but there was another voice talking over you. An American.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit,” he spat the words, and you stayed behind Helmut as a man in stars and stripes approached.

“Ugh, how’d you find us now?” James asked, and you couldn’t help but ask the same question. You’d stayed under the radar… Unless the men had caused a scene while you were sleeping.

“Come on,” another American spoke this time. “You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Okay, that was valid.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” the first man added. “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,” he pointed at Helmut. “And who the hell that is,” this time he pointed at you, and you tried to shield yourself from his view. You were already in a bit of a frazzled mental state, you did not want to deal with this.

“He did that himself technically,” James muttered, and you had to hold back a giggle.

“Oh this better be an unbelievable explanation,” the man shouted, and you were getting tired of him raising his voice.

“Take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam tried to diffuse the situation.

“Who’s this?” the blonde man finally spoke in a regular voice and you stepped out from behind Helmut.

“I go by Maus ,” you started. “I owed Steven Rogers a favor, so I’m helping his friends,” your accented English gave him pause.

“How did you know him?” The other American asked and you winced.

“He sort of destroyed my country,” you shrugged. “But he helped me out afterwards. It evens out I guess,” he chuckled at your answer.

“I know where Karli is,” Helmut interjected and you cut your eyes to him. What? When had he figured that out?

He started walking and the men started their pissing contest, or you supposed it was just a heated conversation, so you followed behind. It would be a long day.

“I’m Lemar,” the second man walked beside you as the others argued.

“Nice to meet you, Lemar,” you responded, eyes wandering around the beautiful city.

“You’re from Sokovia, then?” You nodded. “Not much of a talker, are you?” “I’ve had quite a long few days,” you chuckled and finally looked over at him. He was handsome, probably around your age. “And my English is very out of practice.”

He nodded understandingly.

“I took French and German in high school, but I’m not very good at them,” he commented.

“ Du sprichst Deutsch? ” You asked with a smile, and he returned it.

“ Ja, ” he responded, though you could tell it took him a bit to think up the word.

“I live in Berlin,” you explained. “So I’ve been getting better at German. Having the Baron around is nice though because I haven’t spoken Sokovian in years,” you sighed sadly and Lemar nodded.

“I could see that being nice, even though he is a fugitive and a criminal,” you nodded sagely. What he would think if he had known the situations you’d gotten into with the Baron.

You tuned back into the conversation when Helmut gestured to his ‘associate,’ a little girl waiting for them up ahead. You sighed, you had a very bad feeling about this.

Masterlist

#zemo x reader #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x you #bucky barnes #sam wilson #john walker #sokovia #tfatws

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nerdycanible1 · 4 years ago

Text

The Healing Plant.

This is a story of Kya's and Lin's past. Of who gave Kya her betrothal necklace and why Lin has issues. This is my own little story so of course I will not have the facts lol. Also please be warned as this has some explicit content of fire and burns. Along with death. Please don't read if you are sensitive to such things. Please enjoy.

All art is mine.

Lin squeezed her pillow as a tear glided down her cheek. "Her last breath will always haunt my dreams. The echoes of her breath bounce around in my head and I cannot rid of it." Her lip trembled. "How can you forgive me?" She whispered. "I lost the only person dear to you." She whimpered. "I failed you."

Kya looked at Lin with a wince as her heart was still numb. Losing her wife only a few days ago didn't make her feel right. Her hand clenched as the water near them began to freeze. The betrothal necklace around her neck felt as if a million pounds of anvils were on her chest. Lin couldn't save her. Lin couldn't save the only person she has ever cared about. The only soul mate.

Lin was wrapped in bandages as her burn wounds was still raw, tender and still needed a lot of healing. Her hair was disheveled as tears glided down her face, her eyes puffy. Why does she get to cry? Not like she's the one that lost a lover.

"You did fail." Kya says barely above a whisper, clenching her fists. The bright smile Zhi always seemed to save for her. the tender kisses and the affectionate laugh that always made her join in. "How can you let her get hurt?!"

Lin flinched and whimpered. She began to push herself up and winced. "Kya let me explain what h-"

"No!!! Zhi Ruo is gone because of you!! You let her get hurt... you let her die! You let my wife die!!" Lin sniffled and covered her face ashamed. "I thought you were a protector of civilians. Of everyone." The water in the pans, bowls and cups trembled as Kya was getting more and more angry. Her grief getting the best of her.

Lin had no idea Zhi was Kya's wife. She didn't know. She tried to save her but instead she let the woman get killed. Be my wife Kya. I'll always be there for you.

Kya growled as she raised the water above her head ready to hurt Lin. Lin squeezed her eyes shut ready to for the pain but it never came. Instead she felt the ice water plop onto her as she saw Kya's retreating form leave the room.

[11 Years Later]

Lin sat in her apartment drinking her bitter coffee. it was already 3 in the morning and Lin was wearing her tank top. Tenzin breaking up with her after 13 years and Kya never seeing her was a harsh world to be in. Lin was a bitter woman, being the age of 39 and no suiters was not a way to go. Her finger subconsciously running over her burned flesh. The scars were permanent and she still felt the death of Zhi pretty hard. Kya still hasn't forgiven her and it only dawned to her that she may never see the woman again.

She was just finishing her last cup of the night before there was a tentative knock on her front door. She frowned as she looked up at the clock and saw that it was 3:47 am. She stood up with a sigh and stomped her way to the door and opened it up. "What do you wa-" Her words dying in her throat when seeing the waterbender. Lin went rigid when she heard the others words bounce in her head. Your fault! Your FAULT. Kya looked up at Lin with a smile but only furrowed her brows seeing the bad fire wounds on Lin and the look upon her face. "Lin, spirits you chan-"

Lin let out a strained sob and slammed the door in front of her, leaving the waterbender on her porch. Lin stumbled back and her hands trembled as her arm began to burn. "Lin are you okay? Linnie?"

Lin held onto her arm and cursed under her breath. The hurried knocks from Kya was agitating her along with her arm. Her heart ached at the memory. She wanted to explain herself to Kya about the whole situation but all she got was the sad stares from the family. Kya had packed up in the middle of the night and no one knew where she went. Lin growled and walked to the door. She stood up and held her chest up and swung the door open. Kya almost fell forward but began to gather her balance. "Lin-" she breathed in relief but Lin crossed her arms over her chest.

"What is it?" She snapped. Kya flinched hearing the harshness of the of Lin's words. The last time they talked, Lin was goofy and had kinder words. Kya frowned as she gulped and looked at her. "Can I com-"

"No you may not. State your business so I can head to bed. I have a early shift in the morning. Now what is it?"

Kya frowned and looked up at the other as her brows furrowed. "We need to talk. I thought you'd want to see me after I came back." Her heart ached. Just what had happened to her best friend. Lin always had time for her.

"Came back?" She barked. "How long ago was it you were gone? How many letters did you write? How many years?" Lin glared down at the woman and kept her arm from view the best she could. The burn mark was from the mid of her forearm all the up to the mid way of her neck. I burned part of her back and her stomach.

Kya felt her brows draw down as her eyes watered. "I would have... I thought we were over this. Lin that was, I was still a k-"

"Save it. I don't need your words of pity. If there's nothing else then let me head back to sleep." How can I get over it when your words haunt my dreams. The tears and the hate in your eyes. "Lin wa-" Lin didn't give her another chance as she slammed the door in her face.

{TIME SKIP}

It was a few days later before Lin was heading to the island to talk to Katara and Aang. The kids and her may have gotten on the wrong foot but that doesn't mean her and her aunty and uncle were on the bad foot. And she also promised to help them build a new set of stairs to help be easier to go up to the temple. She also wanted to catch up with Bumi till he was deployed again. The two were an unlikely pair but they became really close and were practically best friends.

Once Lin arrived she was greeted by the same acolytes that always greet her. She began to make her way up the make shift stairs and jog up them as she wanted to greet Katara before she got to work. Once she made it to the house she opened the door and ran right into the Waterbender. Lin grunted as she stumbled back and she looked up and was ready to apologize to Katara for running into her until she saw who it was and she stayed quiet. Kya and her were in a stare down before an arm hooked around her shoulders and she was pulled into Bumi's side. Lin groaned as she began to pull herself away from Bumi. "BUMI!!!" She growled as he would chuckle and hold her in his arms.

Kya frowned seeing the two act so familiar to each other. Lin wasn't like that with her. Lin punched him in the gut and he huffed and bent forward with a obnoxious laugh. "Your punch is the same." He grunted.

Lin chuckled and stood there watching as Bumi tried to regain his breath.

Lin chuckled tapped the others shoulder. "As much as I like beating you up Bumi I wanna say hi to your mother." Bumi smiled at Lin and followed after her as if he hadn't got his guts mushed. "Mom made some apple tarts and breakfast."

Lin could feel the others icy glare though she ignored it. She didn't want to talk to her. Her burn was irritating her again, it seemed to always burn around the bad memories and now Kya. Lin was wearing a long sleeved shirt that was a little too hot to wear during the summer but it looked as if it didn't bother Lin.

Once inside Lin greeted her uncle and aunty and hugged them both, though it be a one sided hug it didn't mean any less than love.

Lin listened to them talk while Bumi hung back with Kya. "What's wrong with the both of you? Lin used to always greet you first?" He looked down at his little sister and Kya rolled her eyes.

"Things change Bumi. It's been years since the last we saw each other." Kya muttered as she looked at the police chief. Lin laughed with them and stole a apple tart. Lin always loved sweets and always was spoiled whenever she came over.

"Can you get me some water Lin, I wanna make some tea to go with this." Katara said holding a bowl out to her. Lin smiled and finished swallowing her food before she grabbed the bowl.

"Of course." She began to walk out of the house and Katara made sure the other left the door before Katara threw a spoon at Kya, hitting her squarely on the forehead.

"You were supposed to talk to Lin last night!!" She grumbled. She began to walk towards her. "Why didn't you two talk?!"

Bumi started laughing loudly and holding his stomach as he did so. Kya rubbed her forehead and pouted towards her mother. "Mom let me explain. She slammed the door in my face." Katara glared at her and placed her hands on her hips.

"That shouldn't stop you. You're a master waterbender and you let a door stop you? When I was your age-no younger than you I sliced through a wooden cage with only my sweat. And you let a door stop you." Katara shook her head and went back to cooking. "Now go out there and set it straight." Aang gave his daughter a sympathetic look.

Kya chewed the inside if her cheek before she sighed and walked outside. Leaving Bumi's boisterous laugh inside and went to the well.

Lin grunted as she looked down in the well saw the water. She frowned as she saw the bucket down in the water without the rope tied around it. With a heavy sigh Lin began to crawl inside the well and braced herself against the wall. She began to slowly make her way down into the dark well. "Lin? Lin?" Kya began to look around for the woman and frowned not seeing her. Lin had just grabbed the bucket while she was trying to keep her balance against the wells walls.

With one last look around her grabbed a bucket and used her bending to bring water out of the well. A yelp left the well as Lin got soaked in the ice water and a loud splash was heard as Lin fell into the water. The Well wall wasn't structured properly and the rocks were loose.

Kya dropped the water and ran to the well seeing Lin at the bottom. Lin was floating in the water and Lin was glaring daggers at Kya. "Spirits Lin. You ok-"

Lin grunted and grabbed the wall of the well before she began to earthbend her wait up. Her clothes were all soaked. "Here let me help y-"

Lin swatted her hands away as she crawled out of the well with a huff and stood there letting the water drip off of her. "I'm fine." She knew it was her fault but that didn't mean she wasn't mad. With a heavy sigh, Lin unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off. Lin was wearing nothing but the wraps around her chest. Lin was muttering sweet words under her breath as she began to take her shoes off.

Kya's eyes raked over her body and brows furrowed. She had no idea how Lin could stand the scars. It must have hurt her so badly. Her fingers subconsciously ran over the wrinkled scars. Lin tensed and went rigid, her body had froze and trembled.

"Zhi!! This is no time for you to act like a hero!! Kya can care for herself!" Lin grasped her arm and began to pull her out of the temple. The smoke was building up in the room, the logs blazing with fire were coming down.

It was only supposed to be a damn house fire but the team got split up and were each ambushed and attacked. Zhi fought against Lin's grip and shoved Lin away. "Shes in trouble! I can feel it!" Lin growled as she grabbed her hand again but Zhi slapped Lin across the face and pointed upwards. Kya was being choked while the man was ready to stab her.

With the burning, stinging sensation on her cheek Lin was ready to slap the other.

The smoke was filling Lin's lungs and she could barely breath. With a quick flick of her arm a rock flew towards the man. Lin didn't see the non bender run off and she continued to distract him from the first floor.

A scream rang in her ears and just like in slow motion she saw the pillar give way and was slowly falling to the ground. Her heart ached as she had to make a hard decision. She knew Kya can care for herself and a second later Lin was using her metal from her suit to hold the pillar up along with her right arm. It felt as if hot boiling, blistering water was being poured on the right side of her body.

A blood curdling scream left Lin's lips as she held the pillar up. She soon saw Zhi under her. The woman looked as white as a ghost but she was still breathing. But what wasn't right was the blood pooling around her. Her breath was shallow and had a small wheeze to it.

Part of the pillar was broken and stabbed the other in the stomach. Even if she did manage to get out from under the wood, the burn Mark's and huge hole in her stomach wouldn't let her live.

Tears filled her eyes as she was losing a friend and there was nothing she could do. With the fire on her skin, cooking her alive she felt as if she was gonna pass out at any given moment.

She clenched her jaw, her breathing getting shallower and shallower. Lin took a deep breath and she clenched her jaw. With all her remaining strength she pushed herself to her feet and lifted the pillar as high as she could. She needed to get her out of here. She couldnt burn in here. With another growl she threw the pillow behind her and lifted the woman in her arms. Her skin felt as if it was melting away.

Shakey, jello-y legs began to carry the woman out. Tears gliding down her cheeks as she could see the light of the door way. The body in her arms slowly getting colder and colder. Her heart barely beating.

"Stay alive. Stay alive. Stay alive." Lin chanted over and over. "Stay awake." Her sight was growing dimmer and dimmer.

"Tell... Kya I love her." She wheezed. Lin had laid the other a good few feet away from the collapsing house. She smiled and brought her hand up to her cheek. Tears filled her eyes as she stared into Lin's eyes. "Take care of her."

Lin shook her head and clenched onto her hand with trembling fingers. Her hand couldn't even give her strength. "Y-You have to do that. Please. Z-Zhi... please."

Zhi gave her a lightlsmile and caressed her cheek but her strength gave out and her hand dropped. Her head began to lean to the side and her breathing was all she heard. Lin held her hand and stroked it. She couldn't heal her. The least she could do was be there in her last moments. With one last ragged, deep breath she was gone. Lin squeezed her hand as she was losing her best friend. Her tears dropping on her arm.

Lin smacked her hand away and glared at her. "Don't touch me." She didn't yell it, she didn't squeeze her hand. She didn't do anything except utter the words.

But Kya felt all the emotions hit her hard. Feeling her aura felt as if she were in the saddest place on the world. Kya stumbled back and tears filled her eyes.

Lin stared at the other and watched her step back. Her hand pressed against her forearm, feeling the ugly burn marks. "What happened? I-It couldn't have been that bad." Kya breathed as she seemed to have regained herself.

Lin felt her lip raise to a scowl and she grasped the other by the front of her dress and pulled her close. She stared up into her eyes, not even caring for the obvious height difference. "Not that bad? NOT THAT BAD?!" Lin growled as she felt her grip tighten, her fingers going white, the joints in her fingers screamed under the pressure.

"Maybe if you didn't run off in the middle of the night then you would have known what actually happened." She barked. She began to walk forward and Kya took and alternating one back.

"L-Lin."she grimaced as she was shoved back. The little push wouldn't have hurt but the strong fingers of Lin Beifong was no joke. "I was just a kid. I-I just had lost my wife. I-I was hurting." Kya defended herself.

Lin's eyes blazed, the ground beneath them trembled. "Just a kid?" She clenched her jaw and glared at her. "I was a kid too!" She growled. "She was my best friend!" She snapped. The rumble of the Beifong's anger made the stone split. "I... I watched her die." The rumbling suddenly stopped and the broken Beifong stood there. "We were friends before you were her wife." She whispered. "I knew her before you."

Lin took a deep breath and finally looked into her eyes. "It was my fault she died I know t-that." Her voice cracked and she ran a hand over her scars, her nails digging into the scar. The sight made Kya wince.

"I just.... the pillar fell... I ran as fast, as I could." She felt the tear run down her cheek. "She loved you." She whispered. Lin's heart ached as she hung her head and hid her pained face. "She said... she loved you... I-I." She gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. But not me. She didn't... she didnt love me. "How can I let her die. I held the pillar... I made sure it didn't crush her..."

Lin's gut twisted and she turned and looked out to the waterview. "Her last breath hangs in my head, her bright amber eyes are forever burned in my mind."

"Lin I'm so sorry." Kya whispered. She walked over to the other but Lin stepped back. "Lin." She grabbed her by the hand and Lin took a shuttering breath.

"Zhi died. The pillar I held up was on fire, the fire burned so badly and I couldn't even hold it up." Lin looked up at Kya with furrowed brows. "I've never seen someone hate me so much." She gulped and gripped her hand. "For the first time in my life, I saw someone hate me so much you were willing to kill me."

Kya opened her mouth the say something but Lin shut her up with a look. She didn't want Kya to speak. Not at all.

"I know I should've protected her but... it hurt so much." She looked into Kya's eyes and her brows twitched together every now and then. "Why did you blame me for her death?" She whispered. "She was a grown woman and... and she made her own decisions." She glared at Kya before she sighed and just let her emotions fall into a numb impassive face.

"I'm tired of this Kya." She stepped back and rubbed her shoulder. Kya grabbed her and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think my words would hurt you this bad." She closed her eyes and pulled her in close. "I'm so sorry."

All Lin could do was stand there. She made no move to hug her back, her mind wondered back to the temple. Every night she relived the same dream. With the smell of burnt hair, the smell of flesh and the small hint of blood.

The smell never left Lin's nose, she always smelled and tasted the fire.

#nerds #art #queer artist #atla #legendofkorra #lesbian #lgbtq #lin beifong #kya ll #legend of korra kya #heart break #fanfic

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years ago

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stars around my scars

or, the tatto artist!robin au that no-one asked for but everyone gets (ao3)

Ever since he was 11, Theo has wanted a tattoo. He still remembers the day he first asked, if only because of his dad’s expression. He had hurried across the schoolyard, with a cardigan that was slightly too big for him and his backpack hanging off one shoulder, thrown himself into the car, and proudly rolled up his sleeve to show his dad the ‘tattoo’ Sabrina had given him during homeroom. It was simple really, a sword and shield adorned with his initials. His dad had chuckled at it fondly, the way any parent would chuckle at their child’s antics, and started to pull out of the parking space when Theo asked, “so when can I get a real tattoo?”.

He very nearly crashed the truck.

His answer was simply “when you’re older”, and being 11, that felt an age away to Theo, and he felt his chest sink at the idea of waiting for so long.

In the run up to his fourteenth birthday, he tried again, responding with “a tattoo” when his dad asked what he wanted. He sits cross legged on his bed and pretends he cares less than he does, all the while watching his dad out of the corner of his eye. Either he must look sadder than he thinks he does, or he should look out the window and check for flying pigs, because his dad sighs, but then his face softens and he does the impossible; he relents, just a little.

“Maybe when you’re 18,” he says.

His sophomore year of high school is when things start to get really rough. Nearly every day he comes home with bruises and cuts and his dad is less convinced by his excuses each time. He wakes up every morning and wonders what it’ll be; stuffed in a locker, shirt pulled up, pushed down the stairs. Words are used like weapons and hurt just as much, whether they’re spat in his face or written across a locker. Getting up is a constant battle and some days it just feels impossible. The school parking lot feels like No-Man’s Land at the best of times. His dad brings up the idea of transferring to him at dinner one night, but he just raised his chin and reminded him that he’s a Putnam. And Putnam’s don’t run away.

His dad had smiled at that.

There was some good mixed in with the bad though. He found answers to questions that had plagued him for years. He chose a new name, after the greatest woman he never knew, and found the courage to tell his dad who he really is. It hadn’t been easy, he hadn’t expected it to be, but when his dad drove him down to the Greendale barber that day, it had meant more to him than his dad might have understood.

His friends were amazing, which should go without saying. Of course they would be. And he feels good, in some ways he feels better than he’s ever felt about himself. Like he’s stepping into a new part of his life and while he doesn’t know what’s in front of him, he’s excited to see where it goes.

But as happy as he was, not everyone felt the same. Teachers and students alike struggled with his transition, some at least attempting to feign politeness, others not so much. The cruel words don’t stop just because he uses different pronouns now and he still comes home with the occasional bruised knuckles or bloodied nose.

Add on a few stressful long-distance calls with his mother and his high school experience thus far can only be described the same way his English essays are-“Could Be Better”.

Maybe that’s why, a week before his sixteenth birthday, his dad pops his head around his bedroom door and asks him “Do you still want that tattoo?”.

He looks up from his book, almost sure he’d imagined it. His dad may have changed his stance slightly, but if there’s one trait they share more than anything it’s that intense stubbornness. He was prepared to just ride it out and wait until he’s 18, or maybe even until he moves away to college altogether. But no, here he is, age 15, his dad looking at him expectantly.

“Really?” is all he can reply with.

“Yeah,” he says. “I mean, it’s clearly something you want a lot. And I know you’re sensible enough not to get one of those crazy ones that go all the way across your face.” He giggles at that. “And you’ve waited long enough so I figure… why not just let you?”

His mouth falls open and he blinks, waiting for the catch, only for his father to simply shrug at him, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Well if you don’t want to-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence, because Theo jumps and hugs him before he can.

He enlists Harvey’s help with the design. His drawing skills aren’t bad, but they’re not the best either and if this is going on his body, permanently, he needs to get it right. So he slides up to Harvey on Monday with wide eyes and a smile that’s just the right amount of cute. And if that doesn’t work, he has money in one pocket and a comic book that Harvey really wants in the other.

The other boy looks up with a raised eyebrow and Theo’s glad he brought the back-ups.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Why do you think there is something?” he asks. “Can’t I just be happy to see you? My best friend? My trusted companion I have known since-”

“Oh my God, what did you break?” Sabrina asks. She’s sitting on the desk behind them and her eyes have doubled in size. “Harvey, whatever you do, do not take the fall for him!”

“That was one time, Brina!” he replies. Sabrina bites back a giggle, a twinkle in her eye as she exchanges a look with Roz, and Theo exhales slowly. His cheeks warm, just a little, but he ignores it. Or at least he tries. Same with the nervous prickle of sweat running down his back “Harvey, what I was going to ask was… well, my dad finally said I can get a tattoo, and I was just wondering if maybe you could draw it for me?” His voice gets smaller and smaller as the sentence goes on, and the last word practically limps past his lips. He holds his breath, fingers twitching to grab his two back up plans. But as it turns out, he doesn’t need to, because Harvey bursts into a grin that warms his heart and undoes the knot in his chest.

“Of course I will,” he tells him. “That’s what you were so worried about?”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. Whatever words he had die on his tongue, and they laugh it off as Sabrina pats the space next to her. He jumps up next to her, their feet bumping against each other, and they take advantage of the few precious moments they have before class begins.

Harvey hunches over his desk, his hands moving as swiftly and carefully as only an artist’s can. It’s kind of amazing watching him, watching him lose himself in his work the same way Theo loses himself on the basketball court. No, it’s not the same and Theo knows it. He’s nevertheless fascinated by Harvey’s process and that’s why he’s hovering the way he is.

No other reason.

The nail chewing is also completely irrelevant. He does this all the time and it’s perfectly normal.

As is the pacing.

Eventually, Harvey just sights and pulls a chair up beside him and lets him sit. He only moves slightly, but Theo takes the hint and sits back, willing his heart to slow down. He does everything he can to pass time; jumps through social media apps on his phone, flips through Harvey’s stack of comics, even doodles something on a spare page. All the time waiting with baited breath and one eye on Harvey’s hand.

“Okay.” Harvey leans back in his chair, his fingers slightly greyed with lead. “I’m done.”

Theo leans forward and immediately a smile forms on his face. It’s exactly what he had in mind, the outline of a small bird sitting on a branch, poised to take flight, but Harvey’s drawing is more carefully and painstakingly structured than he could have hoped to make it. All his attempts somehow look flat, boring, but Harvey’s looks alive and it reminds him why he wants this particular picture on his body.

“Thank you.” He leans against him, cheek smushed against Harvey’s shoulder, and wraps his arms around him. He sings his words a little, bringing a smile to both their faces. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Harvey plays it down, but he hugs him back just as tightly.

Unfortunately, there are no tattoo places in Greenedale. Theo wonders how, in all his fifteen going on sixteen years of living in this town, he never once picked up on this. Especially since he spent most of that time wanting a tattoo. But no, here he is, the White Pages open on his lap and him staring intensely at the page as if the words tattoo parlour are going to magically appear on the page.

He sighs deeply and scratches his cat behind the ears.

“Well, Lila,” he tells her. “Time to go look beyond Greenedale.” Lila lets out a groan, her little ears flopping down as she rests her head against him, and he takes that as her saying she’s with him. He kisses her head, her fur tickling his nose. “Love you too, baby.”

He finds one close enough, in Woodvale, the next town over. It’s pretty decent money-wise, and while it looks pretty small on the Facebook page, it’s close, and more importantly, his dad goes there for business at least twice a month. He tells him that night he has some errands to run there next week, in fact.

“You can go in, get your tattoo done, then maybe we can go for lunch after,” he says. He shrugs awkwardly, wiping his hand on a tea towel. “You know, if you want. Unless you have plans or something.”

“I don’t have any plans, Dad,” he tells him. “I’d love that.”

He doesn’t miss his dad’s bright smile at his answer.

That night, Lila is sitting around his shoulders as he copies the phone number off the Facebook page. Her tail flicks him in the face and he sighs and adjusts her on his shoulders so she’s more comfortable. His dad sometimes calls her The Queen, and for good reason. That damn cat is more pampered than anything he’s ever known. Even if he does love her and thinks she deserves it.

“Don’t suppose you want to take this phone call for me, do you?” he asks her. She meows back at him, which he takes to mean no you weirdo, make your own appointments, you’re an adult now. She’s right, he doesn’t like it, but she’s right, so he kisses her nose and hits the call button.

“Um, hi, Midsummer Night’s, how can I help?”

Theo clears his throat, glad he had the foresight to chug water right before making the call. Social skills aren’t his best in general and they somehow get worse on the phone. Especially with this kind of appointment-booking stuff. He’s made progress, at least. By that he means he doesn’t feel the need to ask his dad any more. Baby steps.

“Hi,” he replies. “I’d like to book a tattoo. For next Saturday?”

“Next Saturday…” Their voice trails off, the sound of stuff being shoved and moved around filling the silence instead. “Sorry, just bear with me for one second.”

“It’s fine.” He turns on his heel and walks the length of his room again, Lila flicking her tail. It takes him a while to recognise the song playing in the background; Kansas. Carry On My Wayward Son. He’s a little embarrassed; he didn’t spend all that time watching Supernatural to not recognise this song instantly.

He catches himself humming just as the second verse hits.

“Okay, here we go,” the other voice says. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” he replies, as though a pink blush isn't colouring his cheeks.

“So that’s next Saturday… what time were you thinking?”

“Is around ten am okay?” he asks. “Sorry, I know it’s like right when you open, but my dad has some business around town that he can’t move and-”

“No, ten’s fine,” they tell him. “And what’s the name?”

“Putnam,” he says, perhaps a little too quickly. “Theo Putnam.”

“Okay, Putnam, Theo Putnam.” It’s a terrible joke, a dad-level terrible joke, but he laughs all the same. “That’s you booked in. I’ll see you Saturday.”

“See you on Saturday,” he replies, and the flutter of excitement in his chest leaves him breathless.

*****

Midsummer Nights' turns out to be a relatively small shop nestled on a street corner, looking only slightly out of place with its dark blue paint job, contrasting with the more pastel colour palette for the rest of the street, and indeed, the rest of the town. He likes it, and he especially likes the shooting stars painted around the door and windows. Twinkling in the mid-morning sun and outlined in thin black lines, trails of gold and silver shooting out from behind them. They’re tiny and probably there as an afterthought, a way to fill space, but Theo is far more enchanted by them than he is the larger pictures of fairies and mermaids that adorn the walls. The care taken alone leaves him breathless. The bigger pictures are impressive, sure, but the care with which the stars have been painted almost takes his breath away. Whoever did them must have the patience of a saint. He’s never really been one for patience, nor for taking his time, instead always running from one thing to the next. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from this person, whoever they are.

“Woah, calm down there,” he tells himself as he turns the handle. “It’s a painting, not a therapy session.”

Inside isn’t entirely what he expected. Well, he’s not completely sure what he expected. Maybe a bunch of hairy biker types, the faint stench of alcohol in the air and a deer head mounted in the wall for good measure. But no, instead he finds white walls decorated with painted trees and vines and as he looks closer, tiny fairies and gnomes poking their heads around them. A smile tugs on his lips as he looks at it. It’s almost magical; a new creature appearing before his eyes the longer he looks. The space is bright, mostly thanks to the large windows, and someone plays folk music softly in the background.

He approaches the front desk, which in actuality looks more like a glorified coffee table and is manned by a girl with blue strands of her hair. She looks up from her book as he approaches and slips a bookmark in without looking. He takes an instant liking to her, or rather she seems like the kind of person he could like.

“Hey,” she greets nonchalantly. “You have an appointment or are you a walk-in?”

“Uh, an appointment,” he replies, scratching behind his ear. “It’s uh-Theo Putnam.”

“Okay, one second.” She flips open a spiral notebook, twiddling a pen between her fingers. Theo takes the opportunity to have another look around, his eyes once again drawn to the walls. He looks up at them, more than happy to wait. There’s something almost tangible yet so surreal about it; like he believes he could find himself here, just not in this reality. And as he cranes his neck, he spies right where the wall meets the ceiling; the stars from the outside.

“Sorry about that,” the girl says, snapping him back to reality. “So yeah, you’re all booked in, if you just want to go down to the back, Robin will take care of you.” Theo nods, a ‘thank you’ on his lips, but before he can say it, the girl turns her head and screams “ROBIN YOUR PERSON’S HERE!”. Theo stumbles backwards, blown away by and also amazed that all the windows are still intact. She simply turns back, her smile sweet, and opens her book again. “He’ll be down in just a second.”

He can’t decide if he likes her more or less after that.

“Jesus Christ Moth, I’m coming,” someone, he presumes Robin, calls from above them, the voice faint. Theo grins as he realises that he probably wasn’t meant to hear that. He wanders past the front desk, but not before catching the small shit-eating grin on Moth’s face.

He likes her.

Robin (he assumes it’s him anyway) emerges on the bottom step, shooting an annoyed look at Moth that disappears immediately once he sees Theo, instead morphing into an apologetic half-smile.

“I’m sorry about her,” he says. “She’s under the impression that she’s cute. And she’s also a middle child.”

“Ah that explains a lot,” Theo chuckles. “Well, it’s fine. I mean, it seemed to be effective anyway.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. Theo’s breath catches in his throat and he can’t work out why. Robin is pretty, but he’s never been the type to lose his words over pretty boys. He’s tall, way taller than Theo, and his short-sleeved black shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination. His dark hair is streaked with green and falls forwards into dark eyes, causing him to toss his head to push it back. Normally he’d find that kind of look douchey, but it’s not, not on him, it’s actually kind of cute in a punk-rock slash edgy poet kind of way and suddenly he’s aware how neither one of them have said anything yet.

“I’m Theo. We uh, we spoke on the phone.” It comes out as more of a question than a statement, at least in his mind.

“Yeah, I remember,” he says. “Putnam, Theo Putnam.”

“Yep, that’s me,” he replies, caught between laughing and cringing at himself. If he had known it was going to be like this, he’d have tried to make that phone call way less awkward. Robin doesn’t seem to mind though, instead tapping his arm lightly and gesturing with his head.

“Why don’t you come through with me and we can get started?”

“That’s definitely what I came here to do,” he says, and when Robin smiles, his heart melts and he curses silently.

Dimples. Of course he has dimples. The asshole.

He sits up on a leather chair, his backpack and jacket discarded on the floor and his sleeve rolled up. His feet dangle just above the floor and he’s deliberately not looking at the very pointy needles. It’s not like he’s got a phobia or anything, and he definitely knew this would be part of the process. It’s just a little unnerving.

“You got a design?” Robin asks.

“Uh, yeah here.” He holds the paper out to him. “My friend Harvey drew it. He’s really great at the art stuff. But-but the idea was mine and I… dictated it to him.”

“Cool,” he replies. “And where do you want it?” Theo pulls his sleeve up, his fingers gesturing to just below his shoulder. Robin nods, and his eyes darken slightly, as if his focus is shifting entirely to the tattoo and nothing else. He positions himself as close to him as possible, and they sit in silence as he carefully transfers the design onto tattoo paper.

Then Robin’s hand is against his skin, and the needle is barely an inch from it, and goosebumps prickle along there.

He must look as nervous as he feels, because Robin’s grip on his shoulder softens slightly, as does his face, and his voice comes in a careful whisper.

“Hey,” he tells him. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt that much. And I promise I’m careful.” Theo nods, even if his nails are digging into the leather beneath him. “Besides, it’s only the first one that really hurts. After that everything’s fine.”

“That’s what she said.” His voice is far weaker than he’d like it, the joke even more so, but Robin busts out laughing and so does he, and he barely realises that he started.

He was right though; while the pain doesn’t necessarily lessen, he gets used to it. If one could ever get used to the feeling of a needle jabbing one’s skin over and over. It kind of helps that he’s got plenty to distract him with the art on the walls and even if he didn’t; Robin is surprisingly easy to talk to.

“So you’re not from around here, are you?” he asks casually. “Sorry, it’s just… here you get to know people pretty quickly. And I’ve never seen you around here.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. He relates of course; small towns are small towns. “I’m from Greenedale. Ever been there?” Robin frowns slightly, his mouth falling half-open as he thinks.

“I think I drove through it once or twice,” he says. “Isn’t that the place that’s obsessed with witches and stuff?”

“That’s the one,” he says. “They’ve got all the spooky sights but unfortunately no tattoo parlours.” He goes to shrug but then remembers one arm is currently being used. “So I had to take a little trip out here.”

“You know when I was driving through I distinctly remember the lack of tattoo parlours,” Robin jokes. “Still. It’s a nice place.”

“I guess,” Theo mumbles. “I was always so focussed on the leaving.” He kicks the ground. “I’ve never looked around properly.” Greenedale hasn’t exactly been kind to him either. He may love his friends dearly, and it’s not like his memories are all bad, but there are days when the familiar streets are less comforting and more maddening, and the town line feels more like a prison wall. It’s not every day he feels like this, but enough for him to have taken notice.

Robin chuckles beside him, and it’s then he suddenly remembers where he is, and that there is in fact a person beside him. A person he barely knows. And while a blush does creep over his cheeks, he doesn’t feel nearly as embarrassed as he should.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Kind of dumping my tragic backstory on you there.”

“Trust me, you’re not the first,” Robin tells him. “Guess there’s something about a person having a needle shoved into their skin repeatedly that puts them in a sharing mood.” He flips his head, tossing his bangs out of his face. “So what’s the deal with the witch thing?”

“Basically a lot of witches came over from Europe and settled over there,” he explains. “And when it came to picking a town personality trait, it was between either witches or thinly-veiled bigotry.” He goes to shrug, but then remembers the needle against his arm. “I guess ‘we’ll put a spell on you’ is a more catchy slogan than ‘we’re all raging assholes’.”

“Well, that may be true,” Robin says. “Though I’d admire any town with the balls to admit that they’re all assholes.” Theo chuckles again, swinging his feet slightly. Robin must be right; there must be something about getting a tattoo that makes you pretty chatty. That or Robin’s just… easy to talk to. He hasn’t met someone like in a while, not since Sabrina and Roz and Harvey. Something flutters in his chest and he doesn’t quite recognise it. He likes it, though. Even if in the back of his mind he wonders if he should be scared by it.

“Yo.” Moth appears in the doorway, hanging off the wall by her fingertips. She looks over at Theo’s arm, where Robin’s needle is, and a faint smile forms on her lips. “Not bad, Robin.”

“Thanks,” he replies, his eyebrow raised, and he looks up at Theo. “For her ‘not bad’ is possibly the highest praise you can get.”

“Not true. There’s at least two more levels, you just haven’t unlocked them yet,” she adds. “Anywho, I’m going on the coffee run, what do you want?”

“You know my order,” he replies, focussing more on his work than on her.

“So that’s an iced salted caramel latte, then,” she says. Robin’s cheeks turn pink suddenly, his hand slowing but not faltering. Judging by the look on Moth’s face-which can only be described as a shit-eating grin-that was the goal. “Do you want me to ask for whipped cream like last time?”

“No, thank you, Moth,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. The gesture is equal parts exasperated and fondness, like Moth has been a pain in his ass for so long, and he likes it that way. Theo relates.

“He always pulls that ‘you know my order’ crap when a customer’s here,” she explains. “He’s embarrassed ‘cause his actual order isn’t very macho. Plus he thinks the cool and mysterious vibe impresses clients. Especially around the ones he thinks are cute. Anyway, you want anything?”

Theo freezes, his response-whatever it would be-caught in his throat. Moth seems unaffected, checking her nails like nothing is wrong. Maybe nothing is wrong, and he’s just overthinking. Or misheard her and she didn’t actually imply that Robin might find him cute. Either way, there’s probably no reason his cheeks should be as pink as they are now.

“N-no I’m okay thanks,” he says.

“You sure?” she asks. “No extra charge, just give us a good review.”

“It’s fine,” he says. He clears his throat and hopes his voice doesn’t actually sound that high. “I’m going out with my dad after this anyway.”

“Mm. Suit yourself.” She turns on her heel and flounces off, the sound of jangling keys and her boots on the floor growing fainter. Theo doesn’t dare breathe until she’s gone though-the closing door releasing the tie around his chest. When he turns to Robin, the other boy seems far calmer than he is, already back to work with a bemused grin on his face. His eyes meet Theo’s and he shakes his head lightly, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

“Don’t worry about Moth,” he tells him. “She’s taken it upon herself to try to set me up with every guy that comes in.” He shifts himself slightly. “Trust me, it was nothing.”

“Oh… okay.” The small tug of disappointment comes at a surprise to him, and he searches for a way out. “But was she right about your coffee order though?” Robin chuckles.

“Maybe.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry,” he tells him. “I personally think iced lattes are very macho. Of course we should ask ourselves ‘what is macho’ and then that takes us on a whole lovely journey that you probably don’t want to go through right now.”

“Eh, I might do,” he says. Theo turns to him, and his eyes are the exact mixture of teasing and serious, and the grin on his face widens. “But we can agree that salted caramel lattes rock, right?”

“Absolutely,” he says, and he realises in that moment he really likes this guy.

Which way he likes him though is a question he leaves unanswered.

In what feels like no time at all, Robin is slowly finishing up, an empty coffee cup at his side. At some point, Moth came in and started work on another client, casually talking to Robin above the hum of the tattoo needles. Robin doesn’t stop chatting to him though and they move through things like school (where he learns Robin’s favourite subject is English), music (where Robin actually has to stop and write down Theo’s music recommendations) and pets, where Theo goes on a ten minute rant about Lila and how she’s simultaneously the love of his life and the bane of his existence.

“Your cat sounds amazing,” he says. “Next time you’re in town you should bring her in so I can meet her.”

“You could always come over to Greendale,” he says. It’s so casual he didn’t even think about it before he said it, and he might have freaked himself out. If Robin feels the same, he doesn’t show it, only nodding and saying he might take him up on that.

They turn to talking about Midsummer Nights’ itself; how Robin started working there one summer as a teenager, how only last year he graduated from sweeping floors to taking clients, and how just a few months ago he and Moth (“mostly me,” he added, just loud enough so she could hear) redecorated the entire place, including the outside.

“I did those little stars on the wall outside,” he remarks. “Don’t know if anyone notices them, but they’re my crown jewel as far as I’m concerned.”

“I noticed,” Theo tells him. “I like them.” He doesn’t tell him how entranced he was by his work, but he does notice the softness in Robin’s smile, the pink hue in his cheeks. It makes sense, somehow, that Robin painted those stars. He barely knows him, but he feels like it makes sense.

For the last few minutes, the conversation drops away, and silence falls as all Robin’s focus shifts to his work. It’s a look he recognises from Harvey, an artist’s expression, but it feels deeper with Robin. His movements are so precise, so deliberate, that Theo feels he should hold his breath lest he break his concentration. He imagines him months ago, the same expression on his face as he paints the stars outside, and he’s almost sad he wasn’t there to see it.

Robin groans as he leans back, pushing his hair away from his face, and his eyes light up.

“We’re done,” he says. “You want to see it before we put the bandages on it?”

“Hell yeah I do.” He jumps off the seat and follows Robin, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he goes. Robin leads him to a mirror, his face shining with anxious pride, and Theo gives him a small smile before he turns and his breath is taken away.

“It’s perfect,” he breathes. Perfect as anything could be, really. Clean cut, careful, delicate. There’s so much life in it, even though it’s only ink. The little bird sits perched on its branch, determination strong on its small face. He couldn’t have asked for a better job. It’s everything he dreamed when he was younger, now a physical reality. He takes a deep breath, trying not to be the kind of person that cries after their first tattoo. “Thank you, Robin.”

“No problem,” he says softly and when Theo looks up, he finds Robin’s eyes lingering on him. “Putnam, Theo Putnam.”

*****

He and his dad find a little cafe in the middle of town and sit outside, taking advantage of the good weather.

“So was it worth waiting for?” his dad asks. “The tattoo?”

“Yes, it was,” he replies. “Thank you, Dad.” His dad waves his hand dismissively, as though the back-and-forth between them never happened.

“No problem kid,” he says. “It was what you wanted. And the place was good?”

“Yeah.” He pops another French fry in his mouth. “It was really, really good. They were uh… good at their jobs.” His hand moves to where the bandage sits on his arm, the tattoo perfectly preserved beneath it, and yet that’s not what he’s thinking about. Instead his mind drifts back to Robin, with his hair falling into his eyes and his laugh and those damn dimples. He takes a drink just as he feels the heat rush to his cheeks, and his dad eyes him curiously. He sets the glass down, even though his mouth is still dry. “It was great.”

A knowing smile spreads across his dad’s face and he curses under his breath. This is what he gets for having a close relationship with his father. Stupid strong father-son bond.

Theo puts his hand in his pocket and his fingers close around empty fabric, rather than plastic. He hurriedly checks the other pocket, then his jeans, his panic rising each time. His dad turns when he realises Theo is no longer beside him, his feet rooted to the sidewalk instead, and his eyes widen, reflecting Theo’s own alarm back at him.

“Theo?” he asks. “What happened?”

“I-I can’t find my phone!” he sighs. He pulls items out of his pockets one by one, his wallet, his keys, loose change… no phone. He taps every pocket again to make sure, as if it was going to magically appear if he willed it hard enough. No such luck. He mumbles under his breath, a stream of ‘oh shit’ and ‘oh no’ as he tries to fight off the rising panic. He tries to retrace his steps, to remember the last place he had it out, to think of wherever the hell his phone could be in this town-

“Theo!”

Or maybe he doesn’t need to.

“Theo!”

He turns around to see Robin running down the street, skidding to a half just in front of him. His face is bright red, not from teasing his time, his chest heaves and his hair sticks to his face. They look at each other, breathless, and just as Theo opens his mouth to ask what he’s doing, he holds his hand out.

“My phone!” he squeaks.

“Yeah you… you left it in… with me,” he says between gasps. “I was really hoping I’d be able to catch you before you left.”

“Oh God I’m sorry,” he says, taking another look over Robin. The tattoo parlour is far enough from here, and the streets here twist and turn around as they please. And Robin ran through them. For him. In jeans. “Thank you so much, Robin. I-how did you know it was mine?”

“The picture on the lockscreen,” he explains, pointing vaguely. “It was you.” He pushes his hair away from his face. “And… your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?” he asks. For a second his mind goes blank, then he realises and it nearly knocks the wind out of him. “Oh God no, Harvey’s…. he’s just my friend. No, no I…” He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes meeting Robin’s and he can’t work out if the hopeful look on his face is real or his imagination. Either way, he ends up saying “I’m completely single.”

“Oh,” he says, about ten times higher than usual. He clears his throat, his hand sliding into his back pocket. “Uh… me too.”

“Seriously? What the whole jacked as hell, dyed hair tattoo artist thing doesn’t attract anyone?”

“Not around here it doesn’t, apparently,” he says, implying that the reason he’s single is beyond no-one wanting to date a tattoo artist. There’s a pause, a brief moment of silence, and Theo goes to say goodbye, to run before it gets awkward, but Robin holds out a small piece of paper.

“What’s this?” he asks as he takes it. Robin ducks his head, his bangs falling in front of his face.

“I hope it’s not too forward,” he begins. “But it-it’s my number.” He shrugs and pushes his hair back. "Just in case you ever want to call me sometime."

“Oh,” he replies. It’s a short, quick word. It hardly means anything. Certainly doesn’t reflect how his stomach as dropped out from under him, or how his brain is vibrating at an insane frequency, or how the unending cry of ‘HE GAVE ME HIS NUMBER’ blasts around his head like a fire alarm. And all the while he just stands there, the paper in his hand, blinking up at Robin like he hasn’t a care in the world. “Um… thanks.”

“Sorry,” he says immediately, his face scrunched up. “I-it was too forward, I didn’t mean like that.”

“No,” Theo says, just as Robin’s hand twitches. He slides the paper into his back pocket with a shaky hand and gives him a small smile. “It’s not… like that at all.” It’s really not. It’s not… He’s not sure what it is. All he knows is that Robin’s not at fault. “It’s okay, really.”

He turns slightly and sees his dad standing at the truck, pretending to be interested in a receipt he pulled out of his pocket. His dad hasn’t pressed and knowing him, he’s probably fully intending on giving the two of them as long as they need to work out… whatever it is they’re working out. Anxiety clutches his chest and he backs up suddenly, his hand still slid into his pocket. He needs time all right, but not here.

“I should go,” he says. “But I’ll...” His voice trails off, his fingers fidgeting in mid-air. The piece of paper burns like a small star in his pocket. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Robin says. He tosses his hair again and damn, he should not find that as cute as it is. “Look us up if you’re ever back in town.”

“I will.” He gives a wave to Robin, who responds with a wave, and Theo responds to that with a small finger gun and screams at himself the minute he turns around. He climbs into the truck beside his dad, who already rolled the windows down. Thank God, Theo thinks, because he feels fit to explode. He leans out as his dad pulls away from the curb, closing his eyes as the air tickles his skin.

“So you made a friend?” his dad asks. He doesn’t need to turn around to see the bemused smile on his face.

“He was the guy who did my tattoo,” is his reply. His dad nods, a soft chuckle escaping him, and goosebumps prickle on his skin.

“He gave you his number,” he points out. “Are you gonna call him?”

Theo sighs, his fingers tracing over the paper in his back pocket.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Maybe.”

He doesn’t call him. At least, not right away. Who he does call is Harvey, Roz and Sabrina, who all stand around his bed with him, the offending phone number sitting in the centre. He filled them in as best he could, although with all his energy being focussed on the decision, he’s only really been able to give them ‘I met a guy, he gave me his number’. And now they’ve been standing there, minutes passing in silence, while Theo stares at it with enough intensity to light it on fire.

“I think you should call him,” Roz says eventually.

“Why?”

“Because he gave you his number for that very purpose,” she tells him slowly. Theo pulls a face at her, but it only lasts for a second because… she’s right. She has an infuriating habit of being right. If she wasn’t so cute and supportive and lovely he’d have stopped hanging out with her long ago for that very reason.

“So why haven’t you?” Sabrina asks. “Called him. I mean his number’s right there. What’s stopping you?”

“What isn’t stopping me?” he mumbles, just loud enough for them to hear, and the three friends share an understanding nod. His experience with romance is extremely limited-his first and only “relationship” was the Valentine’s card that appeared in his backpack in third grade. He never chased them up, and that was the end of it. All other knowledge either comes from his friends or movies. At this moment, he feels like he’s on the edge of the deep end, nothing to help him, and he’s not sure he won’t drown when he jumps.

“Hey.” Sabrina appears at his side, her shoulder bumping against his. “I still think you should do it.” He raises his eyebrow at her. She simply shrugs in response, her eyes flitting over to Harvey as she speaks. “I mean… I know it’s a cliche, but you’ll never know until you try.”

“Yeah,” Harvey adds. “I mean what’s the worst that could happen?”

“So many things,” Theo sighs, raking a hand through his hair. He’s not blessed with what Harvey and Sabrina have-a sweet little romance that’s been blossoming since childhood-nor does he have his pick of suitors like Roz does. As far as he knows, this Robin’s his one chance. He shakes his head, his fingers drumming on his arm. “Maybe I just shouldn’t.”

“I disagree,” Roz pipes up. “I think very hot boys giving you their numbers doesn’t just happen every day and since the universe has presented you with this opportunity, I for one think you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” She delivers everything so quickly that it takes a few seconds for him to register it, and then she comes round to his side and slings her arm around his shoulders, all warm smiles and warm eyes, and he rests her head on her shoulder. “Besides, I know you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

She’s not wrong. Again. If there’s one idea that scares him more than it not going well, it’s never even happening at all.

“And in the event it goes horribly wrong, we’ll all buy ice cream and we can have a good cry session,” she promises, and the other two nod in agreement. Theo closes his eyes and buries his face in Roz’s shoulder so they won’t see his blush.

God damn it, he loves his friends.

It takes a week for him to call him, even with those assurances. One day he feels braver than usual; he chalks it up to a good day at school and an even better one at practice, and so he sits on his bed and punches Robin’s number into his phone, the note sitting on his pillow. Because yes, he kept the note instead of writing it down. Nothing wrong with that.

“Hello?” Robin picks up too suddenly, and Theo bites back a squeak. He jumps off the bed and pulls on his shirt for some reason.

One chance he reminds himself. One chance.

“Hi, Robin?” he asks. “It’s uh, it’s Theo. Theo from Greenedale? You did my tattoo last week.”

“Oh, Theo, hey,” he replies. “Um, hi. H-how’s it turned out? The tattoo I mean?”

“Perfect,” he confesses. “It’s a hit with the guys on my basketball team. You should be expecting an influx of jocks coming round soon.”

“I’ll let Moth know, we’ll stock up on Gatorade.” Theo chuckles and sits on the edge of his bed, the beating of his heart slowing slightly. Maybe this could work. Maybe, if the stars are right, this won’t fall apart.

“Robin,” he begins quietly. “The reason I called was… em… I wanted to ask you-” The words stick in his throat like grains of sand against rocks. So many questions overlap in his head, each drowning the other out and turning into static. He closes his eyes, takes deep breath in, and back out. No need to overthink it, he tells himself. Just jump.

“Do you have plans on Saturday?” he asks.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” he replies. “Why do you ask?”

Theo throws himself on the bed, his legs in the air, and is amazed at just how easy this actually is.

*****

They have their first date in Greenedale, seeing a movie at the Paramount, followed by a personalised tour. Robin gives Theo his jacket at some point, the sleeves falling past his hands, and Theo’s heart flutters.

They have their first kiss by the Welcome To Greenedale sign, Robin’s hand caressing his arm, right above where his tattoo is.

A year later, he’s laying in Robin’s bed, his boyfriend’s fingers gently caressing his newest tattoo-free of charge this time around. Theo kisses his bare shoulder before Robin goes to sit up, reminding him that he has to be at work in half an hour. Theo just pouts, grabs his arm, and tries to see if he can get five more minutes out of him.

Yeah, life is good.

#caos #caos fic #goodnam #theo x robin #theo putnam #robin goodfellow #throbin #caos ff #goodnam ff #me: hoe don't do it #me: writes a long-ass for a tiny ass fandom #me: oh my god

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nelllraiser · 3 years ago

Text

those magic changes | eddie & nell

TIMING: before nell was yoinked into the hellscape. LOCATION: gallows grove. PARTIES: @specterchasing & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: eddie and nell have some much needed post-highschool catching up while a spawn tries to catch them up. CONTAINS: sucidal ideation (eddie’s general disregard for his life).

The Bend, also known as the bad part of town, also known as Eddie’s favorite part of town, looked particularly derelict the day he and Nell decided to meet up. The sun hung low overhead, threatening to swap places with the moon at any moment. Meanwhile, within the depths of the sewers, an especially hungry vampire awaited the transition with rapidly diminishing patience. His sire botched his shot at immortality, making him a mindless spawn but, what he lacked in brains, he made up for in brutality.

Eddie parked outside a stretch of abandoned homes only a few blocks away from the spawn’s location. He took a sweeping glance at his surroundings, but there was no one in sight. His hand slipped into his back pocket and retrieved his phone before texting Nell in search of an update.

[Text to Nellspawn]: It’s 7:46 and we agreed on meeting at 7:45.

[Text to Nellspawn]: If you hate me, say it to my face, coward. ):

Nell crept up to Eddie’s car like a cat, making not a single sound as she ducked below the side of it- for once grateful that she was shorter than was ideal. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she smirked as she read the illuminated words on the screen. In the blink of an eye she was jumping from her hiding spot into Eddie’s window, slamming the screen of her phone against the driver’s side window of Eddie’s car as she yelled out. “I got your text!” Hopefully he’d at least jump a little. Or maybe she’d be so lucky as to get a small little scream that she could mock him for.

Out of nowhere, Nell popped into Eddie’s peripheral vision and his heart leapt into his throat. He jumped in his seat, clutching his chest with wide eyes. “Holy fucking shit,” he breathed. As he gradually calmed down, his expression of terror turned into one of utter disdain. Eddie rolled down the window, glaring up at Nell. “Hey, could you do me a favor and stand in front of my car for a second?” he asked. “I promise I’ll make it quick.”

Nell practically cackled as she watched the fear very possibly shave a few years off Eddie’s life, sticking her tongue out at him through the window. “Surprise! I could tell you’re really happy to see me. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look like that since the time I saw a toddler witnessing their first boggart going in on the peanut butter aisle of the grocery store.” Just in case he didn’t pick up on what she was insinuating, she made sure to rub it in. “Get it? I’m comparing you to a toddler. A small child.” Rolling her eyes she took a step back from the car door, giving him room should he choose to open it. “As if your car would stand a chance against me. I’m made of steel.” For a moment she flexed her arms in the classic pose, though you couldn’t begin to see anything past the looser sleeves of her jacket. There was simply something about seeing Eddie that made her feel as if she were as careless as the day she’d left White Crest. As if all the terrible things since then hadn’t come to pass. He was clean- a slate that wasn’t marred by being present for any of the atrocities of the past year or so.

Eddie willed himself to continue glaring at her, but the truth was that it felt good to hear her laugh again. Like most, Eddie viewed high school as hell on earth, but drama class with Nell gave him a sliver of hope to hold onto each day. “You’re three feet tall, you don’t get to call me a toddler.” Eddie rolled the window up and stepped out of the car. “It might take a few tries, but you know what they say about wills and ways,” he said, finally giving in to the urge to grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her—graduation, maybe. Those years were more blurs than memories at this point. “Fuck it,” he said before taking a step closer and pulling her into a hug.

“I am not!” Nell stomped petulantly against the ground, not entirely helping her case. “I’m just saying if the toddler stroller fits you- who am I to argue?” Nevertheless her own grin was still bright on her lips, feeling lighter by the second the faster she and Eddie fell into old ways. It’d been..shit- it’d been almost six years, but it felt all too easy to pick up where they’d left off. “Yeah- they say Penelope Vural has the strongest will and the best ways, and no car’s ever gonna stop her.” Her laugh was lighter, less sharp as he stepped forward for a hug, and she embraced him back without hesitation. “I can’t believe you’ve gone soft on me, Carridine,” she teased before her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the nearby cemetery. “So you’re still stupidly bent on getting yourself snacked on in there?” One of the things that she and Eddie unfortunately had in common was that they were nearly impossible to sway once they’d made up their minds to do something idiotic. And she wasn’t keen to watch while White Crest swallowed up the friend she’d only just reunited with.

She hadn’t changed, not from what he’d seen so far. It felt like stepping out of a time machine and reliving a period in his life when the most pressing issues he faced revolved around timed tests and peer pressure. “It’s your fault for leaving me, Vural,” Eddie replied, giving her a tight squeeze before stepping back and shoving his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “It’s not stupid if you film it, then it’s art,” he said as he backed up a few steps closer to the rear door of his car. He turned on his heels and pulled the hand before ducking in to grab his filming equipment. “Besides, we might not even run into anything worthwhile,” he said with a shrug as he pulled the bag’s strap onto his shoulder.

The physical scars Nell had gained since seeing Eddie were tucked away under layers of clothing, always prone to the cold. Thankfully it seemed the scars on her soul had seen fit to fade into the background for the moment being as well, leaving her to freely bask in the warmth of Eddie’s company. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about going to cry in a Subway again,” she joked dryly, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m pretty sure that makes it more stupid, actually.” If this had been six years ago she most likely would have been all for diving headlong into a cemetery, and she’d still do that if it was only her going in. But there was another life at stake here as well, and it wasn’t one she was willing to risk. “Yeah- we’ll see.” She was too jaded at this point to feel optimistic about not running into something lurking in the cemetery, already knowing vampires loved to lurk in their shadows. She’d brought a stake just in case, more than ready for if things went south.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Eddie advised in response to her comment about shedding tears in sandwich shops. His hand raised and mimicked a flapping jaw at her next comment. Whether or not his plans were stupid, it wouldn’t stop him. His already poor decision-making continued to deteriorate with each passing day. He told Bex he would be careful but, as much as he didn’t want to disappoint her, he didn’t know the first thing about showing caution. And, frankly, he showed no interest in learning. Eddie’s outlook on life made being alive out to be more of a chore than a priceless gift.

“You wanna do an intro for the channel?” he asked, digging out his camera. “Or did you somehow become the type of person who values anonymity?” Eddie’s brow raised at Nell as he walked passed her en route to the cemetery.

“No- I don’t think I’ll be trying it, thanks. I would, but it makes it a little hard since I have something called dignity. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to be familiar with the concept. I will keep knocking it, though,” Nell teased, that same playful glint still making a home in her eyes. “Wow!” The word was stretched out as long as she could make it last, offense plain to see in the way her eyebrows had raised towards her hairline. “I can’t believe you just admitted you don’t watch any of the TikToks I make for the newspaper. You think I’d be doing that if I valued anonymity?” She still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to land the job, reveling in the pay and benefits for the minimal amount of work she did.

“You’d be lucky to have me in your intro!” In another moment she was parroting the old intro she’d seen on his channel the times she’d tuned in, letting the words fall none too sweetly as she poked fun at him. She was pretty sure the camera wasn’t even out yet- but that didn’t have her hesitating.

“Dignity,” Eddie mused, sounding as if he were trying to dredge up the definition from deep within his memory banks. “You’re right, I’m drawing a blank. Is dignity the reason you got drunk at Hayden Dane’s house party and asked everyone for soap to appease the bathroom demon? Yeah, I don’t think I have that.” He shrugged all the way up to his ears. It didn’t occur to him that a demon actually did take up roost in Hayden’s bathroom, explaining why his house burned down two days later. Eddie knew a lot about ghosts and decidedly less about infernal imps.

“There’s a pretty big difference between newspaper TikToks and showing your face on a YouTube channel exposing White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” he replied with a glance. “Most people don’t want to be associated with it. I actually watch your content all the time. It’s… kind of how I learned you were back in town and had been for a while.” A year of radio silence. No point acting like it didn’t sting a little.

At the sound of Nell repeating his old intro back at him, Eddie clutched his chest in despair. “No,” he whined, turning to face her again. “Let it stay dead, Nell. I’m not that person anymore.” The camera in his hand raised in her direction. “Here’s your chance at YouTube fame. If you embarrass me, I’ll get your house haunted.”

Nell rolled her eyes fondly at the memory of the little Bannik that she’d found in Hayden’s bathroom, having been utterly thrilled to stumble across a demon in her drunken state. It had been in the midst of her beginning to acquaint herself with the demon species and portals— so of course she’d been all too eager to find some soap for the little creature. “You’re lucky I was there to appease the bathroom demon. You all would have been long gone if it wasn’t for my quick thinking.” Were Banniks actually all that dangerous? Absolutely not. But Eddie didn’t need to know that.

“Mhm- White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” she repeated dryly, still not all that pleased that Eddie had made it his life’s mission to single handedly crack open supernatural secrecy. “You know that’s a great way to get people killed, right? What you’re doing with your videos and stuff?”

Stepping through the threshold of the cemetery, Nell’s mouth was already propped open to give her next quip of a reply when a chill ran down her spine. Whether it was the product of being attacked from the shadows one too many times, or an actual premonition- she was suddenly quiet. She began to scan the tombstones with a sharp eye, as if something might be lurking behind them. Then...a low snarling sound, and Nell realized she’d been right to have come as Eddie’s personal bodyguard. “Shut up,” she hissed, already trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, a hand slipping one of her hidden stakes from its hiding place.

Eddie eyed Nell skeptically. “Uh-huh,” he uttered. The likelihood of Nell being right about the soap-loving fiend was actually pretty high, but Eddie didn’t care to admit that. He much preferred giving her a hard time, and the feeling seemed mutual enough to dissuade any guilt.

“You know what else is a great way to get people killed? Keeping them ignorant,” Eddie retaliated without missing a beat. “So long as I try to avoid outing individuals, I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear.” This was an argument he knew well, the beginning of it anyway. People didn’t usually bother trying to correct him once they knew how firmly he stood his ground. They saw him as a lost cause, he saw them as uninformed.

Nell seemed on-edge, which Eddie didn’t understand. As much time as he spent in graveyards, he never developed a sixth sense for danger. Mostly, out of lack of interest. “Yeah, that’s a great intro,” he deadpanned. The sight of a stake made him lower his camera. “What are you doing? Now’s not the time to showcase your Buffy cosplay.” He didn’t hear the growl over his own voice.

Nell had never backed down from a fight, argument, or otherwise in her entire life, her stubbornness and determination matching Eddie’s in a way that hadn’t been fully explored quite yet. After all, they’d agreed on most things in highschool, but as was often the case with the supernatural— things got far more complicated when it entered the picture, and relationships were no exception. So she was more than ready to fire back a retort before another growl pierced the night air, and she shushed Eddie once again. “I said shu-” But her words didn’t meet and end as the spawn finally leapt from the shadows taking advantage of her momentary distraction to begin its attack.

Rolling in a smooth and practiced maneuver, Nell clutched the stake like a lifeline in her hand staying low to the ground as she readied her magic should she need it. “Don’t move,” she gave Eddie another command as she tried to draw a large circle around the spawn with her footsteps. But the thing had taken one look at the stake in her hand and decided to go for the easier target. In the blink of an eye, the spawn had shifted course, turning towards Eddie with bloodlust in its eyes.

Eddie let out a startled laugh at the sight of the vampire, his usual reaction to imminent danger. He instinctively raised the camera as Nell momentarily outsmarted the beast. Asking her where she learned a maneuver like that would have to wait.

“Gonna have to deliberately disobey that order,” Eddie said once the spawn locked onto him. A familiar surge of adrenaline flooded his system and Eddie jouked to the right, an outstretched hand commanding a small cross to fly from a nearby grave into his grip. He was lacking in the faith department, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off,” he chanted as he waved it in the spawn’s direction.

The raising of his camera wasn’t lost on Nell, and she shook her head in disbelief as the spawn tore after Eddie. Really? Even now Eddie was trying to get a shot? “You can’t upload a video if you die, dumbass!” Nell yelled, already hot on the spawn’s trail while it flew after Eddie like a bat out of hell. Which...wasn’t actually all that terrible a description of the lesser vampire when Nell thought about it. At least her friend had enough sense to arm himself with some religious memorabilia, though the spawn had yet to spot it while being far too intent on having its next meal.

The creature was faster than Nell could have ever been without a hunter gene or otherwise, but thankfully she had her own tricks up her sleeve. Casting one of her oft-used spells when it came to fighting, her speed was instantly buffed, and she became a blur even quicker than the spawn. The burst was enough to get her on top of the spawn and send herself barreling into the side of it, trying to find purchase with her stake. She was by no means all that large of a projectile standing at only 5’2 and having a slight build, but the momentum she’d gathered was enough to shoot the spawn off its path. The spawn was quick to recover, snapping at the hand that held her wooden point and clamping its jaws down on her wrist. With a curse falling from her lips, the weapon was forced out of her hand.

“What the fuck?” Eddie exclaimed when a Nell-sized blur collided with the vampire. Questions piled up, giving him a reason to outlast the encounter. The spawn recalibrated with deadly quickness, and blood subsequently flowed from Nell’s wrist. As much as Eddie liked to pretend situations like this fit his laissez faire narrative, he couldn’t stand idly by while someone he cared about bled for his mistakes.

His camera hit the ground while his feet carried him to Nell’s side. With little regard for his own wellbeing, Eddie pressed the cross to the side of the spawn’s head. It sizzled against the wrinkled skin, sending the creature reeling backwards with a shriek.

“You dropped this,” Eddie said breathlessly as he floated the stake to Nell’s uninjured hand, hoping she would take hold of it. He stayed next to her, holding out the cross to hopefully keep the beast at bay long enough for Nell to plan out her next move. But it looked hungry and Eddie couldn’t imagine it had much patience.

Nell grimaced while she did her best to ignore the injured wrist, giving Eddie a grateful nod as she caught the stake he’d floated in her direction. She couldn’t deny that she was enthralled by the encounter with the spawn, and she would have been enjoying herself even more if Eddie hadn’t been involved in the crossfire. Not for the first time, she felt like she was back in the Ring, fighting for her life and the winnings of those who’d bet on her. She couldn’t deny that she missed the rush of battling for her life, and the roar of the crowd.

The cross move had been smart on Eddie’s part, and Nell supposed she should at least count herself lucky that he knew enough to know what had the ability to ward off vampires. “Just go-” she began to say, unwilling to risk Eddie’s life any further. She didn’t wait to see if he’d obeyed, once again rushing forward with a speed she shouldn’t have possessed. The stake in her good hand plunged forwards through the spawn’s chest, but her efforts were fruitless beyond making the creature even angrier. At the last second it’d darted to the side, shifting just enough for the point to miss its heart.

With a growl of frustration, Nell decided she was done with trying to hit a moving target. She kicked a leg into the air to hook it behind the thing’s head, using her momentum to swing herself up by the crook of her knee until she’d sat herself on the spawn’s shoulders, hands placed on either side of its head. “Just gotta bring the inside out,” she reminded herself as she gripped her magic tight. She could feel it’s sludge-like blood responding to her will as it’s head began to fill with more than it could hold. Pulling her hands from the creature’s head, she tugged on the blood she’d pooled, bursting the spawn’s head in an explosion of brains and viscera. With the remains of the spawn painting her front, she slipped from it’s twitching body, catching her breath while she looked to see where Eddie might have gone.

Nell told him to go, but Eddie couldn’t look away, let alone move. She climbed the vampire with precision and put a bloody end to it. He went momentarily slack-jawed. “What the fuck?” he breathed, sounding like a broken record. Eddie trudged towards Nell, remembering a final obstacle stood between him and the answers he wanted so badly. He placed the cross in his back pocket, making a mental note to return it to its rightful grave before they left, and reached out for her injured wrist.

“Can I take a look at it?” he asked timidly, wanting to make up for the harm he caused her. “Or do you have some kind of spell for that, too?” He eyed her curiously, fine with either answer. If she had a handle on her blood loss, he would need to figure out a new way to make tonight up to her, but he could work with that. “I think the best I can do is a band-aid, anyway.” He offered her an apologetic shrug.

Nell fixed Eddie with a disapproving look the moment she realized he hadn’t actually moved an inch since she’d told him to leave. “You know- usually the best way not to get killed is to listen to me.” Mindlessly, she let him take her wrist, not entirely having expected him to ask for it, but offering it nonetheless. Her head tilted in amusement as he mentioned spells, realizing he’d already pegged what was going on. “You mean you’re not buying the whole- I just got really buff after highschool or something like that?” To be fair she had gained more muscle, but it was of a leaner make than anything a bodybuilder might have.

“Well- it’s not really...a spell but-” As he eyed her wrist she willed the blood to clot where the skin had been broken, once again flexing her bloodkinesis as the wound scabbed over. “I can just do that for the most part. I never really learned a lot of healing.” She gave him a smile anyway, coming down from the high of the kill slowly but surely. “You can still put a band-aid on it though, if you want,” she teased, though thankful for his concern.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Eddie replied flippantly. For Nell’s sake, he kept his indifference towards death light-hearted. Whichever way the wind blew, Eddie didn’t mind much. Either he lived another day, or he didn’t. In his opinion, both options seemed eerily similar. “We can play pretend, if you want, but I’d rather pick your brain about magic.” He knew another spellcaster, Bex, but she didn’t seem as advanced as Nell. “God, how did it take me this long to figure it out?”

Nell healed herself, in a sense, and Eddie’s eyes widened with delight. “So cool,” he said, catching her gaze again. “You don’t have to coddle me. I get it, you’re all tough and scary now. Way beyond band-aids.” As he spoke, he meandered back to the grave he’d stolen from and returned the cross with a quiet apology. Ghost or not, they deserved more respect than he’d given them.

Returning to Nell, Eddie knew better than to think they’d walk back to his car without a good lecture. “I’m fully prepared to be scolded now, by the way. Hit me with your best shot.”

Eddie might have thought his jokes about dying were landing decently, but Nell’s face didn’t so much as twitch into a smile as he spoke the words. After the last year...after the last six years she knew that death wasn’t a joke. She supposed it made sense that Eddie would have a skewed vision of it as a medium, but that didn’t mean she had to encourage him. Maybe he’d feel differently if he’d watched someone he loved die, woken up covered in her blood with her headless body lying next to him on the ground. Shaking her head to dispel the dark memory, she simply sent him another stern glare. “No fun in dying, really.” She wasn’t going to entertain his frivolity when it came to his life. But magic was easier to talk about, and something that wasn’t tainted by her trauma. Her voice grew lighter again, curious to know what he himself was curious about. “Sure- what do you wanna know? Or how much do you know already? It probably just took you so long cause you couldn’t see around your giant hair,” she teased, leaning on an old laugh.

Another little smile crossed her face while she watched his reaction to the magic, always thinking it endearing the reactions of those who were less acquainted with it. “Actually I’ve always been scary and tough, thank you very much,” she joked with a wrinkle of her nose— even though she’d gotten in more than her fair share of fights in highschool.

Picking up his busted camera from the ground, Nell thumbed some dirt from it’s lens before taking a closer look, trying to figure out if a simple repair spell might have it back in working condition. He’d asked for a lecure, and she was left wondering when she’d become the kind of person who doled them out. “This isn’t a game, Eddie,” she began seriously. She should have known the levity of the start of the evening wouldn’t last. Not in a place like White Crest. “You can’t just waltz into supernatural infested areas without protection. And you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

Nell didn’t laugh, but that was nothing new. Eddie understood that most people took death more seriously than he did, and he knew they had their reasons. On the other hand, their solemnity didn’t invalidate his indifference. He preferred not caring, it made life easier. The subject-change suited him just fine, however. “The conditioner I use doesn’t help either, eats at the brain cells, y’know,” he said, going along with her joke. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know much. Magic’s fascinating, but I’ve always been satisfied with the whole telekinesis thing, so I didn’t do much digging. So, feel free to talk to me like I’m an idiot, not that you need my encouragement,” he teased.

“Taking on a vampire is a little different than maiming Cindy S,” he playfully corrected her. Eddie knew Nell had never been a push-over, but this was groundbreaking as far as he was concerned.

As expected, she provided words of warning. He nodded along absently, his eyes fixed on the camera in her hands. If he kept up at this rate, he wouldn’t be filming for much longer, anyway. Lack of equipment meant lack of content. “And, why is that?” he asked curiously when she finished bending his ear. He figured he knew the reason, or at least the jist, but he wanted to give Nell the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, her reasoning wouldn’t be as boring as everyone else’s.

“We both know that’s a lie because you don’t have any brain cells to eat,” Nell commented dryly, wishing they could have stayed in the sun of their earlier conversation, the lightness of it having been reminiscent of simpler days. But these weren’t simpler days anymore, and apparently the spawn and whatever bullshit this town would toss out next hadn’t wanted her to forget that for more than the half an hour it’d taken for her and Eddie to get here and get into the cemetery. “You know telekinesis is basically just another form of magic,” Nell supplied, remembering saying something similar to Blanche. An ache of longing shot through her as she thought of her best friend, wishing they could be physically closer, but knowing that Whtie Crest had essentially sapped the flush from her friend’s cheeks, and the joy that was meant to color them. “It’s cool you can work with it though since not all mediums can.” She assumed he knew as much. “But magic…it’s built on a few core things...intention, will, focus…” She didn’t know if this was the best place for the conversation the more she looked around. For all they knew there could be another spawn lurking, or a fully fledged higher vampire who was thirsty. “We should talk about this somewhere else, though.”

“Cindy S fucking deserved it,” Nell joked in reply, honestly having half forgotten the way she’d broken the snotty girl’s nose while in highschool until Eddie brought it up. “And she was already halfway to being a bloodsucker with the way she acted.”

Nell’s annoyance grew as he seemed more preoccupied with the camera than herself. “You’re not even pretending to listen,” she accused, the displeasure plain in her voice. “Because you’re either gonna end up dead or have someone else end up dead or get hurt.” She waved her wrist as a reminder, not above using it in a moment like this. “And maybe you don’t mind being a ghost, but it’s not fucking fun for the people who care about you.”

Hearing Nell refer to something he possessed an innate knack for as ‘magic’ brought a grin to Eddie’s face, a grin that grew larger when she called attention to how rare of a gift it was. Telekinesis wore him out more often than not. Even now, he felt the dull throb of an oncoming headache making itself known. But, despite the pain and exhaustion, Nell’s opinion made him feel proud. “Yeah, it can be a little tricky,” he admitted, thinking back to Willow propelling him across her living room. “Right, right, totally. Time and place, I gotcha.” Eddie wouldn’t have minded loitering in the cemetery until daybreak, but Nell was the one recovering from a vampire bite.

“Yeah, well, all busting her face accomplished was convincing her parents to let her get a nose-job.” Eddie pursed his lips at the resurgence of long-ignored memories. Present day left a lot to be desired, but nothing could convince him to relive high school.

Eddie opened his mouth to assure Nell he usually went on these adventures alone, but her next comment caused him to immediately slam his jaw shut. His brows knitted together as he considered her. He wanted to argue, to insist that no one cared about him enough for it to matter. He would’ve used her as an example, calling attention to how long it took her to reach out to him. If people cared so much, they would act like it, and he wouldn’t feel so alone. But, admitting to feeling that way would’ve made him sound pathetic.

“I’m not gonna die, don’t be so dramatic,” he said, turning away to start walking towards his car. “I’ll try to be more careful.” Eddie hoped she wouldn’t call his bluff. “Do you need a ride?” he asked over his shoulder, eager to change the subject.

“A new nose job, and the satisfaction of leaving me and my friend alone,” Nell jokingly corrected. Cindy had been one of the ones to make fun of Blanche and the way she seemingly spoke to herself at times when addressing a ghost. She wasn’t necessarily proud of the temper she’d had in highschool, and referring to it as past tense was most likely generous— but she liked to think she’d improved from the even more violent youth she’d been. Besides, she’d break someone’s nose for Blanche any day.

“You don’t know that,” Nell rebutted instantly, still annoyed at how lightly Eddie seemed to be taking everything. “You know White Crest loves to eat people up and spit them out.” How many people had gone missing or been killed in their highschool class alone? Too fucking many. Perhaps she was leaning a little too hard on her personal feelings when it came to the matter, tired of watching people she cared about die, but if it made Eddie live another day she wasn’t opposed to tough love. “There’s a thousand and one things out there that could kill you, and you’re throwing yourself at all of them. I’m not being dramatic.”

After years of separation, Nell couldn’t tell if his words of being more careful were sincere or something he’d said to placate her, but she figured this was another conversation they shouldn’t have in the middle of the cemetery with beasts potentially lurking in the shadows. “I’m not done with you,” she clarified, not wanting him to think he’d gotten out of this. “But I’ve got my bike that I need to take home. Thanks for the offer, though.”

White Crest’s history didn’t bother Eddie. He coped with his surroundings by romanticizing how capricious the town was rather than fighting against the inevitable. When people questioned him, he often wondered what made them so certain they knew how he should live his life better than he did. Whatever it was had yet to be explained to him in understandable terms. He didn’t want to argue with Nell anymore.

“I said I’ll try to be more careful,” he reiterated.

Eddie stopped when Nell politely turned down his offer and turned to face her. It only felt right to pay proper attention to their goodbye. “Don’t mention it,” he deflected. “It was good seeing you again, Nell. Fingers crossed, next time will be a little cozier.”

#// BLESS FRANKIE for being so goOD #ch:eddie #wickedswriting #chatzy #those magic changes #suicide tw

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

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A Cop and His Black Cat (Part 3)

Pairing: Daishou Suguru x Kuroo Tetsurou

Genre: Superhero AU, NSFW, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Degradation, Dub-con, Overstimulation, Sex Toys

Summary: Daishou just wants to solve cases and live his life, but a certain Black Cat vigilante refuses to leave him alone.

Part 1, Part 2

Daishou opens his eyes and sees now familiar white walls surrounding him and hazel eyes peering down at him. He groans as Kuroo smirks. “As cute as you are, Daishou, you really need to stop getting yourself put in the hospital. There are other ways to get my attention.” Daishou scowls at the doctor before Kuroo goes over his professional dialogue and discusses the treatments the officer will need. “Luckily you were found fairly quickly, so your wounds aren’t life-threatening, although you’re going to have some pretty bad scarring. You’ll need to stay here for a few days while we keep an eye on your injuries and make sure there are no infections as they heal.” Kuroo rambles on, but Daishou isn’t listening as he intently stares at the messy haired man in front of him. There’s something about him that hits a familiar chord within Daishou…

He uses the next few days he spends with the doctor to try and place a finger on the strange feeling of recognition thrumming inside of him, but no matter what he does, he can’t seem to come to any conclusion. His train of thoughts is interrupted by Daichi visiting him. “I got you coffee! Hope you don’t mind that I put cinnamon in it. It’s a new thing I’ve been trying and I think they mix pretty well, if I do say so myself.” As Daishou takes a sip of the proffered drink, his eyes widen as he inhales the cinnamon scent and the puzzle pieces finally come together in his mind.

The day of Daishou’s release from the hospital arrives and he stops by Kuroo’s office before he leaves. The doctor looks up with a flirtatious smirk when he sees the officer at his door. “Are you finally going to ask me for my number, Daishou?” Kuroo’s voice is laced with confidence, but Daishou revels in the way Kuroo’s face pales at his next words. “I don’t think I need to. I hear cats can find their way home. Although, I’m warning you, if a certain kitten manages to find themselves at my home tonight, they better be ready for a punishment. I’m not a patient master and a certain kitty has been very naughty.” He shoots a venomous smirk and almost hisses in delight at the way Kuroo is speechless for once, before he walks out, leaving the doctor alone with his frazzled thoughts.

Night comes and although Daishou would never admit it, a small part of him is nervous, wondering if he’s scared away the messy black-haired man, but all his insecurity dissipates when he sees a lean figure tapping at his window. The two have technically met each other quite a few times as vigilante and cop, but this is the first time Daishou can fully take his time and drink in the sight of the man fully decked out in his fighting outfit. And what a sight he is. Daishou almost groans as he stares at the way thin black leather is practically molded to Kuroo’s sinewy figure. There’s little left to the imagination and Daishou can’t wait to dominate the man who’s teased and taunted him for so long.

But it seems like Kuroo has a different idea as he slyly smirks at the officer. “Are you done ogling me, Daishou? You know, a picture would last longer.” Long legs saunter over to Daishou as Kuroo moves so close to him that all he can smell is his enticing cinnamon scent. Kuroo’s arms wrap around Daishou’s shoulders as he purrs into his ear. “For all your big talk when you came to my office, you’re sure not doing much now. Are you just all talk, officer?” Fury bubbles inside Daishou at those words and the desire to teach this brat a lesson overcomes him. Venom coated fangs pierce Kuroo’s neck and a cry exits the feline man before he’s falling into Daishou’s outstretched arms. “The venom I just injected into you will last for about three hours. You won’t be able to voluntarily move at all, although I’m sure you’ve already realized that, but your vocal chords are still intact, so I’m looking forward to hearing you purr for me.”

Daishou drags the vigilante to his bedroom where he roughly throws him onto the bed, moving him until he’s splayed out in a spread eagled position and he just stands over the motionless man for a few minutes, taking in how beautiful Kuroo looks, defenseless, vulnerable, and all on display for him. He takes his time, shedding all his clothes and slowly positioning himself until he’s hovering over Kuroo’s form, staring into hazel eyes clouded with arousal and fear. Daishou teasingly rubs Kuroo’s already half-hard cock through the thin leather and smiles at the broken moan he receives. It only takes a few more strokes before Kuroo is completely hard, his dick lewdly protruding underneath his skin tight outfit. “I can’t believe you’re already fully erect, kitten. Do you like being completely at my mercy and used however I want? Of course you do, you filthy slut.” He reaches for one of Kuroo’s hands and places it around his own hardening cock, wrapping his hand around Kuroo’s limp one to keep it in place, before he begins sliding both their hands up and down his length, using Kuroo’s hand as his personal onahole. Only when Daishou is at full mast does he release Kuroo’s hand, letting it flop back down before he patronizingly taps Kuroo on the nose. “Good, kitty. Even your little paws make me feel so good.”

Daishou proceeds to grind his bare cock against the outline of Kuroo’s cock and he revels in the feeling of his pre-cum soaking leather and making everything slippery and wet and the sounds of Kuroo’s whines. He should be embarrassed about the way he’s rutting against Kuroo like a bitch in heat, but he loses himself to the feelings and doesn’t stop until he releases milky spurts all over Kuroo’s clothed torso. He milks a few last spurts onto the leather fabric before smirking at Kuroo who is now letting out whining, frustrated pleas. “Aww, does the kitty want to feel good too? Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you feel so good that you’ll be crying for the pleasure to end.” With that Daishou pulls at the zipper holding Kuroo’s outfit up, slipping Kuroo’s arms out of the sleeves and dragging the zipper all the way down until his entire chest and dick are on full display. He then proceeds to flip Kuroo over so that his muscled back and ass are now in plain sight. Smacking the plump mound, Daishou gets up to rummage through some drawers before returning and Kuroo gasps at the cold shock of lube running over his exposed hole. He practically keens at the feeling of Daishou slowly stretching him out and Daishou cruelly laughs when Kuroo whines when he removes his fingers. “You’re such a fucking whore. I’ve barely touched you and your hole is already starting to gape and twitch for more.” But Kuroo isn’t empty for long as he feels something thick and cold enter him and then he is screaming as the object begins to vibrate against his prostate. Daishou flips him back over and encases his cock in a cylindrical object and Kuroo, already a moaning mess, whimpers even more as he feels bumps and nubs within the object brushing against his throbbing length. “I did promise I’d make you feel good, didn’t I?” That’s the only warning Kuroo gets before the cylindrical object is also moving and Kuroo is overtaken by the double onslaught on his body, unable to do anything other than take whatever Daishou gives him. Daishou slips Kuroo’s arms back into the leather sleeves and he zips the black haired man up, groaning at the debauched sight of the toy around Kuroo’s cock bulging out from underneath the cum-stained leather and the lewd string of screams, grunts, and moans escaping Kuroo’s mouth. He grabs his phone and snaps a picture before leaning down to teasingly stroke his hand through Kuroo’s sweat drenched temples, showing him the photo. “You’re right, a picture does last longer. Now I’m going to leave you like this for a little bit. Cum as much as you want, although I hope you have some self-control, otherwise the overstimulation is going to be hell.” With those parting words, Daishou walks out, leaving Kuroo to his suffering.

Kuroo doesn’t know how much time passes. Time is the farthest thing from his mind when all his brain can compute is the relentless stimulation and pleasure he’s receiving front and back. He tries to hold back his first orgasm for as long as possible, but it’s no use and he’s peaking so hard, so fast. He tries to ground himself mentally when he passes the climax, but the vibrations aren’t slowing down and tears are streaming down his face as the pain of not being able to fully rest hits him. He wants to at least writhe, move, do anything at all to lessen his mind’s focus on the feelings overwhelming his senses, but he can’t even do that thanks to the snake bastard’s ability. Now the pain is beginning to shift into a pleasure still tinged with a hint of unpleasantness and Kuroo lets out a high pitched wail as he’s being brought to another crescendo. The cycle continues and Kuroo has cum so many times that he just feels like he’s continuously in a dry orgasm with no end in sight. He’s so spent and exhausted, but everything also feels so good, too good, dangerously good. His mind is so broken that he doesn’t notice how his fingers and toes are beginning to twitch.

It feels like an eternity has passed before Daishou finally re-enters the room and his mouth goes dry at the depraved picture on his bed. He takes another photo with his phone and feels his cock instantly harden as he draws closer to Kuroo. Kuroo’s eyes are completely glazed over in lust, unseeing as they threaten to roll back in his head and he’s releasing the most beautiful, pathetic tiny broken cries Daishou has ever heard. Once again he unzips Kuroo’s outfit and shudders in delight at the pool of cum coating the tanned abdomen. He collects as much of the fluid as he can on his hand and shoves four fingers into Kuroo’s slack mouth, twisting his hand around until all the sticky liquid has been deposited and rubbed into the wet orifice. This time Daishou completely removes the now soiled leather suit leaving Kuroo completely bare before him. He carefully removes both toys from the slumped body and Kuroo breathes a sigh of relief. Daishou places his hands on Kuroo’s hips, tenderly rubbing circles with his thumbs. “You should be able to move now,” he says softly as he continues his soothing actions. Kuroo blinks in surprise at those words and tentatively tests his body to find that Daishou is right. But he feels so weak and boneless after everything and ultimately decides to just slump back down onto the soft bed.

“If I had known you’d be such a docile kitten, I would have trained you earlier,” Daishou says mockingly. But there’s a softness behind those words and Kuroo just playfully swipes at him before using what little strength he has to drag Daishou down until they’re chest to chest, noses touching as snake and cat eyes meet. Kuroo gently pecks Daishou’s lips before pulling apart, hesitatingly waiting for Daishou’s reaction, but before he can completely pull apart, Daishou’s lips are chasing him and their lips lock together tenderly. Any lingering sexual tension or desires fade away, and the two men are enveloped in a cloud of tender affection and warmth. Breaking their kiss to breathe, Kuroo lightly chuckles. “Does this mean you’re officially taking me in as your kitty cat?” Daishou smiles as he nuzzles his face into Kuroo’s neck. “Yes, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Epilogue I

The hospital is bustling when Daishou steps through the entrance and he dodges nurses and patients as he makes his way to a door and knocks. “Come in!” He enters his boyfriend’s office and is met with the sight of Kuroo pulling at his already messy hair in frustration. “Tough day at work?” Kuroo groans in confirmation, but smiles as he looks up at the officer. “A kiss would make it better though.” And that’s all it takes for Daishou to sidle up to Kuroo and drag him into a searing kiss.

Epilogue II

Daishou doesn’t know what in the world is going on tonight, but he wants to slam his head on the wheel of his car. Did every small time villain decide today was the day to do something? His irritated thoughts are cut off by a tapping on his window and he feels his annoyance wash away at the sight of a familiar pair of leather cat ears. “Tough day at work?” Daishou details out the lengthy list of crime scenes he needs to visit in confirmation. “Well maybe I can help you out,” Kuroo says with a grin on his face. Daishou lightly smacks him on the head. “It’s technically illegal to be a vigilante.” But that sentence is barely out of his mouth before he’s divvying up his workload with Kuroo. Clear on what each person is going to handle, the two lean in and share a tender kiss before Kuroo playfully bites Daishou’s bottom lip and leaps away shouting, “I’ll see you back home tonight”.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #kuroo smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu writing #haikyuu drabbles #kuroo tetsurou #tetsurou kuroo #daishou #kuroo #daishou suguru #suguru daishou #kuroo x daishou #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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