#i remember when i wrote that line i stopped and stared for like five minutes straight
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deep-sea-gigantinism · 8 months ago
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i need to teach myself how to draw just so i can draw scenes from my own fanfics because i think about this one in particular 24/7
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zomtart · 2 months ago
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Chapter 1: Morphine and Lavender (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)
okay this is terrifying but hi I am going to share some of my writing! this is just a snippet I wrote cause Frank is always on the brain. thank you tuna team for the encouragement <3
content warnings: hospital, canon-typical violence/gore, mentions of needles, language
word count: 1.1k
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Frank was beginning to think they had left him in there to die when he heard a knock. You  opened the door with a huff, brushing your hair out of your face before giving Frank a curt nod.
“Alright, hi, sorry, I know I’m not your assigned nurse but everyone in my unit decided to take lunch at the same time, so you are stuck with me at the moment.” you mumbled, barely looking up at Frank as you wheeled your computer stand to his side. You stayed outside of the duct-taped line, but it didn’t seem to bother you much. In fact, you didn’t seem bothered at all. Frank’s eyebrows furrowed together as you pulled up his medical youet, searching for his name.
“Okay, you are Mr…Castle?” you asked, the sound of your mouse clicking echoing in the small hospital room.
He blinked, dumbfounded. “...yes ma’am.”
You nodded, your relaxed (but rather exhausted) expression staying constant even as you said the name that was headlining every newspaper in New York. 
“Mr. Castle, could you give me a pain rating on a scale of 1-10?”
He blinked again. He felt like he had fallen into some sort of alternate universe. His assigned nurse hadn’t talked to him in the few days he’d been here, much less give him treatment he’d give another patient. An innocent patient. 
“Mr. Castle?” you repeated. 
“Right--uh…five.” he said quietly.
At that, you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down slowly. You eyed the numerous bruises, cuts, and scars he was no doubt covered in, and asked, “That your final answer?” 
Something like a smile itched at his lips, but he forced it down. “...yes.” 
You shrugged, typing something into your computer. “Alright, well at least the painkillers are doing something. I’ll make sure to get a refill for that--” you paused as you looked at the full IV bag of morphine, following the IV down to…the floor.
You grabbed at the IV, looking at the wire and then back to Frank. “Did you yank this out?”
“No, ma’am.”
“The fuck?” you murmured, before understanding seemed to dawn on you. The cuffs, the bright red line of tape, the bruises on his face. Frank waited for disgust, for you to become terrified, for you to spit in his face. Instead, you stubbornly set your jaw and walked back to your computer. 
“Who the hell is your nurse?” you sounded furious, but it didn’t seem aimed at him.
Frank, through his confusion, could only shrug.
You rapidly typed at the keyboard, eyes running up and down the screen. Then you stopped scrolling, eyes narrowing. “Did he have blonde hair? Eagle tattoo on his forearm?”
Frank vaguely remembered the eyes of an eagle staring back at him as he faded in and out consciousness from the pain, a man with blonde hair sneering down at him. He nodded. 
“...motherfucker.” you all but growled, and the sound turned into a jagged laugh. You threw your hands up. “Aaron. Of course it--god fucking…damnit--”
Frank felt he was obligated to ask, or maybe his curiosity got the best of him. “Ma’am, are you alright?”
You laughed humorlessly again, words tumbling out of your mouth. “Oh yeah. I’m just peachy. I haven’t slept in two days, haven’t been in my own bed in almost a week, and all because I need to take extra shifts. Why do I need to take extra shifts? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I decided to move to New York fucking City where an apartment room costs more than an arm and a leg! And just when I think--oh just when I think I’m gonna get that promotion? No. No, I lose it to Aaron, who won’t even do his goddamn job correctly!” you finished with a burst of gusto, before collapsing down into a chair.
You just sat there for a minute, face buried in your hands, and Frank wasn’t quite sure what to do besides give you the grace of silence. 
The absence of noise was quickly interrupted by your pager going off, and you reluctantly held it up to your vision before sighing and putting it back at your hip. It seemed to snap you back into reality, and you stood up and smoothed down your hair.
“I’m…very sorry about that Mr…” you glanced up at the computer again. “...Castle. I’m--that was unprofessional, it has just been a…very long week.”
Frank’s eyebrows furrowed. “...you really don’t know who I am?” 
You grabbed some gloves from the table and snapped them on. “Someone very humble, I see.”
That got him to laugh, a low rumble that made its way out of his throat. He…couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. It felt nice. Familiar, even after all this time. 
You shook your head with a small smile, grabbing the IV and sterilizing it. “No, I do not. I’m not even sure what day it is, to be honest.”
He nodded, stretching out his arm for you and making a fist. “But you…I mean they told you…somethin’, right? A warning?”
“I vaguely recall being told to stay behind the red line besides when absolutely necessary, yes.” you said, readying the needle. “Small pinch.” 
He stared, barely registering the sensation of the IV. “...so you…then why would you…?” He tried to find the answer in your face, but all he could see was concentration onyourtask. 
“Why would I…?” you repeated, waiting for him to continue. With the IV in his arm you took your gloves off, typing something on your computer.
“...I don’t know, you’re just being awfully kind.”
You pursed your lips, a hand going to your hip. “I’m not being kind, I’m doing my job. I took an oath to help people, no matter who they were, and that’s what I’m doing. Simple as that.” 
He grunted absentmindedly, his eyes flitting to the window. Ten stories down, New York raged on, lights flashing like fireworks. “Doesn’t seem simple.”
You shrugged. “It is to me.” you started wheeling out your computer. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Hopefully that IV will help. If that dipshit comes in here again, you tell him about nurse malpractice. You have constitutional rights, even if you are off robbing banks or whatnot.”
With that, you were gone, the faint scent of lavender left in your wake.
Frank blinked. “...robbing banks,” he mumbled before closing his eyes, letting the numb feeling of morphine finally lull him into sleep.
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Send you away - 10th doctor x reader!
A/N: I'd apologise for disappearing off the face of the earth, but it'll probably happen again. I've been in the biggest writing slump, I genuinely can't remember the last time i wrote something new. Even this story is old, but i've made a lot of adjustments so it's half new i guess. If you sent in a request, it will get done and posted!! It just might take me longer than intended.
Word count: 1989
Warnings: None
------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Doctor.” You called after him as he stormed towards the console.
But he continued to ignore you. As he’d been doing for the past five minutes.
“Doctor this is getting really childish now.” You sighed, leaning against the railing.
He begun flicking a bunch of different switches, busying himself with the console as the TARDIS begun to take off. You were growing increasingly more aggravated. You didn’t even know what you’d done to warrant this behaviour from him. One moment the two of you were exploring a new planet he’d taken you too, then the next thing you knew there had been an attack of some sort. And this being the doctor’s life, of course he ran to the rescue. Somewhere along the line the aliens causing the attack had captured you. It took the doctor almost 3 hours to find you. They’re ship was full of intricate tunnels leading to a million different sections. By the time the doctor reached you, you were worn out. They hadn’t hurt you too bad. Only a few punches here and there, but it was apparently enough to form big purple bruises all over you. Other than that you were fine. That’s what you told the doctor at least. Thinking back to it now, that’s when he’d stopped answering you. He’d saved you and then just sort of stopped. He couldn’t be angry at you because of that. Right? It’s not like you asked to be kidnapped. It’s not even like you went out looking for trouble – you’d stayed by his side the whole time.
“Doctor.” You tried once more, your voice coming out a lot harsher now.
Still no response.
“Jesus Christ, 903 years old you’d think you’d have matured by now” You mumbled.
Once again you were met with nothing but the hum of the TARDIS. He was getting on your last nerve at this point. How did he expect you to fix whatever it was he was mad at you about if he wouldn’t tell you what the problem was?
“For god’s sake, TALK TO ME” You yelled, finally snapping. His eyes snapped to meet yours, seemingly taken back by your sudden change in tone. “I don’t see what I’ve done to piss you off so much, but you can’t just stand there and wait for me to figure it out.” You ranted moving towards him.
His face remained as cold as ever, unwavering as he watched you.
“I didn’t ask for them to take me. For them to make me think I was never going to see you again. So if your angry at me because of that, then you have absolutely no right. I did nothing wrong. So don’t stand there and ignore me. Either talk to me or get over yourself.” You prodded his chest with your finger as you finished your sentence.
His hand moved to grab your wrist, causing your anger to fade for a moment. You stared up at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind.
“Talk to me.” You said, your voice coming out as more of a whisper.
His eyes flickered with a wave of torment. As if his mind was waging a war over what to say to you. Whatever it was, it broke your heart.
“No.” He replied, letting your hand fall and walking away from you.
You stood in your spot momentarily frozen before your brain processed what he’d said.
“No? What the hell do you mean no? Doctor you can’t expect me to just know why your mad at me-“
“I’m not mad at you” He cut you off, leaning forward on the railing with his back to you.
That confused you. Slowly you stepped closer to him. “
If you’re not mad at me, why won’t you talk to me?” Your voice was coming out a lot softer than before.
The doctor sighed as he dropped his head to rest in his hands. “I’m mad at myself. I should have protected you” He mumbled.
Your heart burned hearing the sorrow laced in his tone. You hated when he got like this. He caved in on himself, allowing the guilt to overwhelm and consume him.. The man in front of you carried the weight of worlds on his shoulder’s day in, day out and chose to blame himself no matter the outcome. Even in situations he had no control over. When in fact he was just one man. An extraordinary one at that. But nonetheless he was one man. And you knew he shouldn’t try to take on as much as he did.
“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know it was going to happen.” You said reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.
But he quickly whipped around to face you, anger in his eyes.
“YES I DID” He yelled.
You stumbled back, not prepared for his reaction.
“This is always what happens. Every single time and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. It happened to Rose, Martha, donna. Even to mickey. No matter how hard I try, how much I care – I can never stop losing them.” He seethed, pacing up and down.
You watched him silently, not daring to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing.
“It hurt with them. So much. But you” He stopped, turning to face you. “Losing you would break me more than I care to imagine” He breathed.
You stared at the man you’d fallen in love with, breaking at the seams right in front of you.
“You won’t lose me.” You replied, stepping closer once again.
He rolled his eyes.
“No listen to me. You won’t lose me doctor. I refuse to leave you alone. Because I know how much it hurts, to feel so utterly alone in the world. To feel that there is no one out there to care or love you. No one to make you feel safe.” You moved closer still, taking his hands in yours.
“That was me when you found me. And you showed me a whole new life doctor. And I’m not just talking about the stars and the aliens, none of that. You showed me what it’s like to feel wanted, to feel needed. Whether you intended to or not, you made me feel loved.” You said, tears threatening to spill. You avoided his gaze, choosing to focus on his hands in yours.
“You fixed me. And all the demons we seem to stumble across, they’re worth enduring for a life with you. So I will not leave you.” You concluded, finally looking back at him.
His brow was furrowed, as if he couldn’t understand your feelings. But just as quickly as before, his cold deminer returned.
“You will. If you stay.” His words stung, causing you to recoil.
At the loss of contact, his face fell. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he couldn’t lose you the way he had with the others. He needed you safe, no matter how much it pained him.
“Y-you want me to leave?” You stuttered.
It felt like the wind had just been knocked from your lungs. It had never even crossed your mind that he might not want you there. The doctor rushed towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.
“No. No I really don’t. You mean more to me then anything in the world”
You wrapped your arms around him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.
“Knowing you has been the greatest gift the universe could’ve given me. I was hurting, just as you were. But you healed me.” He explained.
You chuckled against him. “I guess we work pretty well for each other then.”
“I suppose so.” He replied, smiling to himself.
“I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.” He said, pulling away from you.
Your face fell at the loss of his body against yours.
“Please don’t send me away. I have nothing to go back to.” You whimpered.
“I don’t want to. But I need you safe.” He whispered, his voice cracking.
Tears were now streaming down both of your faces.
“I’m safe with you” You replied, wiping the tears from your cheeks.
He moved towards you, cupping your face in his hands.
“I can’t promise you that.” He rested his forehead against yours.
“You don’t have to. Just please. Let me stay” You were practically sobbing at this point.
You could feel his hesitance, but you really couldn’t leave. There was nowhere for you to go. The TARDIS was your home now.
“Please doctor. I love you please don’t.” You begged breathlessly.
The doctor tensed at your words. He pulled away, still holding your face, to look at you.
“W-what did you say?” He stammered.
You were too tired to try and lie. You gently placed your hand over his, nuzzling against it.
“I love you.” You whispered.
There was a tense moment as the doctor just looked at you. Just as you went to move away from embarrassment, the doctor crashed his lips against yours. You froze for a moment unable to respond. That was the last thing you’d expected him to do. The doctor mistook your actions as regret, so he begun to pull away, trying to turn away from you. That snapped you from your thoughts.
“No” You cried as you grabbed him, pulling his lips back to yours.
His arm flew to your waist, pulling you flush against him while the other cradled your face in his hands. You had one arm round his neck, your fingers getting lost in his brown mess of hair, while the other clutched at his jacket. The kiss was so full of passion, the two of you seizing every opportunity to explore each other. You didn’t even realise you’d been moving backwards until your back hit the railing. He leaned further into you, as if it was even possible. Eventually you pulled away from one another. You rested your forehead against his, your eyes remaining closed as you breathlessly cherished the feeling. You already missed him on your lips.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that” The doctor whispered, causing a smile to crawl its way onto your face.
You opened your eyes and pulled away to look up at him.
“Oh I think I do. It’s been a rather tiring process”
He raised his eyebrows at you quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“Do you know how frustrating it is to be pining after a certain time lord you spend every day with?” You said laughing.
“Well seeing as your not a time lord. No, no I don’t” He replied smiling. “But I do know that I’ve been falling in love with you since I met you. It scared me at first. I’m not used to feeling this way.” He admitted softly.
Your eyes softened at the thought of him not getting the love you knew he deserved.
“But I came to realise it’s not a bad thing. The effect you have on me, it’s indescribable. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
You were positively blushing at this point. He brushed his thumb slowly across your crimson cheeks as he stared down at you, holding nothing but pure overpowering love for you in his eyes.
“I am head over heels in love with you. And it means everything to me that you feel the same.”
You smiled brightly at him. “I love you Doctor. So much.”
“I know.” He said before leaning down and capturing your lips in yet another kiss.
This one was a lot shorter and sweeter but full of love, nonetheless. You rested against him, enjoying the warmth his arm provided. Life with the doctor was not without its difficulties, but knowing he loved you the way you loved him made the whole thing a lot more bearable.
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calamity-unlocked · 2 years ago
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Hey @sashimi-buttons a very late, very happy birthday!! 💕 As you probably expected I wrote you some nark, because I'm me and you're you, hehe. Love you!
~
Hey Lark.
Both of us are at the HQ right now. You’re sitting in front of me, reading a book Grant recommended to you, something about lost cats and runaway kids. Every ten minutes, you look up at me and give me another reason why you think it’s absolute trash. But you’re still reading it, so I guess it can’t be all that bad.
Me? I’m on my phone, typing this stupid letter in my Notes app because Terry said putting my thoughts into words could help me make sense of them. He’s beginning to sound like his mom, if you ask me.
I gave it the good old college try though, and so far it’s been kinda nice. Wrote some stuff to my mom, to Jodie, to Glenn. I’m never going to send those letters to any of them of course. Whatever bullshit I’m putting down right now isn’t meant for your eyes either, so uh, if you are reading this, please stop and let me live with whatever remnants of my dignity you deign to leave me.
Right. Thoughts. Feelings.
I blanked for a full three minutes, and during that time you put the book down and told me the metaphors used are so ridiculous you wouldn’t be surprised if Douglas Adams had risen from the grave to literally ghostwrite it. (Which I think you meant as an insult? Even though you used to love Hitchhiker’s.) Then you immediately turned the next page.
I need to stop staring at you and finish this letter.
Lark, I feel alive when I’m with you. When we’re going 80 in a 65 on your bike and I hold on to your hips and the white lines on the road are a continuous blur, that’s when the world makes the most sense to me. You make my heart beat so fast I can’t even hear myself breathing. You do that, not the speed with which our joyride takes us from nowhere to nowhere, not the rush of adrenaline that unrestrained freedom brings. You.
I guess that’s love? I think that’s love.
I don’t know. I’ve never had a relationship that worked out. There are parts of me I can’t give away, doors I can’t open.
The only thing I know for certain is that I wish I’d never have to let you go. I would drive through a thousand nowheres, would keep singing along to every terrible song on the radio, would do just about anything if it meant being able to keep you next to me.
There are days when I think I’d follow you to the end of the world, but then I realize we might actually have to go there one day. I’m not proud to admit, that’s when fear creeps in a little bit. Y’know how it is. ‘I got soul but I’m not a soldier’.
(that’s the Killers)
(you probably already knew that)
Growing up I had so many asthma attacks it was a wonder they even let me join Westrock FC. You remember when I gave you that straw, back when we were kids and everyone still used plastic straws? I told you to try to breathe through it for five minutes. You didn’t have the patience for that, but you made it to fifty seconds and got the gist of what it felt like to have your own airways betray you.
Though I have memories of smoking, this body has never tasted a cigarette or joint. I’m too scared it will cause me to start wheezing again, spots dancing at the edge of my vision, chest burning like it’s got its own hell inside it.
And yet I crave them. It’s still a test of willpower, sometimes. I know how good they could make me feel. I know that it’s so damningly easy, to just light a spark and press my lips to the tip and let myself enjoy the sensation. I could probably close my eyes and pretend that just because this was the natural conclusion of my desires, giving in wouldn’t mean I'm weak.
But let’s face it. It’ll only be bad for me in the long run.
Hah. And you think your book has bad metaphors.
Loving you feels like choking. God, how I love you.
And I think it’s okay that you’ll never know. Ignorance is bliss, and all that. You seem– not happy, but at least content right now, and I’d never want to ruin that.
I think there are two things a person needs if they want to love and be loved. They have to know who they are, and they have to accept who they are.
I don’t got that first part down, and you aren’t exactly a master at that second part. So I’ll keep abstaining.
My chest won’t stop burning, but that’s okay.
It has to be okay.
~Nick
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farfromstrange · 1 year ago
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Presentation | Michael Kinsella x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader
Summary: You’re stressing out over a work presentation and Michael comforts you.
Warnings: Anxiety, slightly angsty (because of anxiety), fear of failure, anxiety/panic attack, hurt/comfort, fluff
Word Count: 2.1k
A/n: I wrote this the night before my last final because my anxiety was eating me alive and I needed to imagine something other than the possibility of failing. That’s how this came to be. It’s not proof-read and I have no idea if it’s good, but writing this helped, so… yeah, have at it!
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The clicking of your fingernails against the casing of your laptop fills the room with its steady sound along with the bouncing of your leg and your hushed whispers as you repeat the text in your head for the millionth time.
Your eyes are closed, recalling the mental image of the document with the material you researched for days and then spent another agonizing couple of hours to comply it into a text because you would be far too anxious to recite a bunch of unorganized information from the top of your head, so writing an entire speech is the way to go. 
As so often, halfway through the presentation, you get stuck, and your eyes squeeze shut tighter as you try to find the sentence that evaded you, but you can’t find it. Time is running out. You have ten minutes to bring your point across, and you ended up shortening your entire speech to a point you’re not even sure suffices to convey all the information you need it to, but at this point, you’re just going to be glad when it’s over.
“What was that fucking line?” you curse quietly to yourself. “C’mon, you know it. Think. Think!”
Talking to yourself whenever you’re working has become standard practice, but you want nothing more than to scream at yourself right now.
You grunt. This is useless. “You’re useless,” you whisper to your reflection that’s staring back at you from the screen.
“Ya know it’s three in the mornin’, right?” A voice rings out from the doorway, and your heart stops in your chest. 
You jump, letting out a hiss of surprise as you meet the very tired eyes of the culprit. “Jesus fucking Christ, Michael!” you cry out.
You got so lost in your work, you didn’t hear the floorboards creaking or the door to your makeshift office opening, and that’s partly your fault, but Michael has also never been loud whenever he moves around. Part of the blame goes out to him, too. 
“God, you can’t sneak up on me like that…” You press a hand to your chest. “Have some mercy on my poor heart, will ya?”
He lifts his arms in surrender with a soft smile; his beard has grown a little over the past weeks after he shortened it to a point that made you very sad, but he had to, for safety reasons. “Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says.
“Good–“ you clear your throat, “because that would’ve been very fucking rude otherwise.”
You finally lift your head fully to take a good look at him. Even with the dim desk lamp as the only source of light in the room, he looks breathtaking. He must have been deep asleep before he came to hunt you down–he knows a gentle nudge is futile; he needs to physically force you away from your laptop or you won’t stop.
You tear your eyes away from him, a little embarrassed that he woke up because of you, and redirect your focus to your laptop again. “You should be in bed,” you say. 
Michael approaches you, his lips still curled up into a gentle smile. “How long have ya been at it now?” he asks, ignoring your initial statement. “Five hours? Six?”
He’s not wrong. You’ve been at it for nothing short of five hours and counting, and that’s a pretty long time to be working without a break. 
You sigh, frustrated that he interrupted you, but even more frustrated with yourself for not remembering the piece of information you’re lacking. The PowerPoint is right in front of you, but you like to revise your speech before rehearsing it together with your carefully crafted presentation–not to speak of the many times the program collapsed in on you over the past couple of days, almost making you pour water over it to fry it and quit your job. You’re not having a good time, and Michael, ever the attentive boyfriend, never misses anything when it comes to your behavior. 
“C’mon…” He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your seating frame, placing his chin atop your shoulder. “Where’s yer head at, huh?” His hands cup your shoulders and start rubbing them from the top down your arms, and the haze that has covered your eyesight only a moment ago starts to dissipate.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, swallowing the lump in your throat, and allow yourself to lean back against him for a moment. Your head rests against his chest, eyes still screwed shut. “I need to get this presentation into my head,” you murmur. 
“You’ve been doin’ tha for the past days. I think it’s time ya take a rest, love. I mean it.” Michael brushes his lip against your jawline. “Some sleep wouldn’t hurt,” he says, his voice resembling a gentle purr. “And some cuddles…” 
You giggle when his lips trail a path down your throat, reaching the spot just above your collarbone where he knows you’re most ticklish, and your fingers tangle in his tussled brown locks. “Are you trying to persuade me into coming to bed with you?” you tease. 
He shrugs, his lips trailing the same path back up. “Is it workin’?”
You sigh. “I wish, but–” You gently push him away and focus back on your laptop. “I can’t. Not until I’m done.”
“You’re done.”
“No, I’m not. I need to–”
“Oh, tha wasn’t a question,” Michael cuts you off. He slaps your laptop shut and tears it from the energy source, and you whip around in complete shock. “I’m tellin’ ya,” he says. “No more work ‘til tomorrow or I will get my gun and shoot a hole through tha thing.”
Your face falls. Only when your eyes focus on something other than blue light on a screen, you can feel the distinctive burn creeping up on you. Your muscles ache. Your neck is stiff from all the bending down, and you forgot to fill up your water bottle, so you are too far behind. And did you have dinner yet today? You told Michael you did, but you start remembering that you lied. You’re exhausted, and the lack of your laptop’s buzzing as well as Michael’s proximity have you yearning for something other than this stupid presentation. 
You bite your lip before admitting, “I’m scared,” your voice breaks. 
His stern eyes soften as he puts the laptop down and kneels before you, his hands resting on your bare thighs. “Of wha?” he asks. “Forgettin’ yer words? I–it happens, doesn’t it? They won’t fire ya because of tha. They’re not allowed ta, anyway, or they will get a visit from me.”
“I’m not–not just scared of forgetting my text,” you take a deep breath, “I’m scared in general. It’s like… like my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest, and my blood is itching, and I feel disgusting because I keep sweating, no matter how many times I fucking shower, and–and I–” 
Your blood pressure must be through the roof. You had been so focused on the presentation before, you didn’t pay attention to the ruthless pounding of your heart against your rib cage or the unsteady bouncing of your knee. Your hands are shaking. You can feel your lip quivering as you speak and the words slipping past them sound a lot more breathless than you expected them to be; and as you take a deep breath, you notice that some oxygen is lacking in your lungs and the air in the room is incredibly thin, too thin for your liking. You can’t breathe properly, and it adds to your anxiety. You’re suddenly so aware of your physical form as well as the many thoughts swirling around in your head, and it’s a lot if not too much.  
Michael hoists you up. Your knees buckle, but he holds you in his arms as you quiver. He’s not letting go of you, especially not now that you have finally realized that something isn’t right. “Alright, shh. Breathe,” he tells you. 
Your heart continues beating out of your chest, the first tears welling up in your eyes for the first time in days. Being so stressed and unable to cry always takes a toll on you, but it’s worse when the anxiety is so high. 
“Breathe,” he tells you again, more stern this time, cradling your head closer to his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “I’ve got ya. You’re alright. I’m here. Just breathe.”
You cling to him. “I can’t–“ You’re unsure how to finish that sentence.
He nods as if reading your mind, squeezing you a little tighter, and then he tells you to focus on his heartbeat and his breathing. “Listen to my voice. Focus on tha,” he says. “There you go.” He guides you through it. 
Anxiety is tricky, and it always finds a way to take over your life; before Michael, you dealt with it yourself in unhealthy ways, but then you got together and he found ways to make it easier for you. But especially during moments of panic, he always stands strong for both of you and guides you through it. He helps you find the oxygen you’re lacking, and he brings you back to the present with a simple touch and hushed words spoken into your ear.
“In and out,” he says. “Good girl. Yer doin’ so well.”
You match your breathing to his. He’s calm, he usually is. It helps. You’re not as scared as you were a few seconds ago because he’s holding you, and his touch is more than capable of keeping the demons working on the foundation in your head at bay. 
“I’m so sorry,” you whimper. 
Michael shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”
You bury your nose further in his sleep shirt. “I just get really anxious when it comes to work presentations. I know it’s irrational and I shouldn’t worry so much because it’s just a presentation, but–“
“Don’t play it down,” he cuts you off. “It’s not just a presentation if it doesn’t feel like it to ya. Your feelings matter.” 
You grunt. You hate it when he gets all smart on you. He’s right, of course, but you hate admitting it to yourself.
“Michael,” you say. Nothing more comes out.
He pats your head. “I know. Just try ta relax fer a moment, alright?”
“I’m so tired…”
“I know,” he says. Michael pulls back enough to meet your eyes and wipe your tears. He offers you a gentle smile. “I get anxious too. A lot of people do. Tha’s not a bad thing. What ya can’t do is let it eat ya alive.”
You pout. You hate it when he’s right. You’re tired, thirsty, and hungry, but right now, his touch is all the remedy you need. 
“How ‘bout I make ya some chips?” he asks then. His thumb strokes over your cheekbone and you lean into his hand. “Can toss ‘em in the oven, and then you’ll sit down for a second and eat, hm? How does tha sound?”
You sniffle and answer, “Like a mean midnight snack.”
His smile turns into a soft chuckle, and then he finally kisses you right on the lips. “That’s my girl.”
“Do we still have ice cream?”
“Yeah. Birdy brought some over from the shop yesterday.”
You lean back into his open arms. “What flavor?”
“Mint.”
You feign a gag. “Ew–“
Michael laughs. It’s clear as day and bounces off the walls in your office. “I’m jokin’!” he says. “I’m sorry, I was just messin’ with ya. It’s chocolate. I asked her to bring it over because ya were havin’ a bad week and I thought it might come in handy.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Your initial frustration dissolves completely at his words. It’s not the chocolate ice cream or how considerate he was remembering your favorite flavor; Michael told Birdy to get you your comfort food because you were having a shit week and sugar always manages to soothe your aching heart for a moment, and that only shows how much he loves you. And he loves with a devotion no one has ever shown you–it’s incredible.
He catches the stray tear that slips your eye. “I only want what’s best for ya,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me take care of ya t’night, please?”
His hazel eyes remind you of a puppy. 
“I just want chips and ice cream,” you say. You are fragile–like putty in his arms. “And I want you,” you add. “A hug, some kisses and–and some cuddles… please.”
He is probably what you need the most in your current state of mind. 
Michael presses a kiss on your scalp, answering without missing a beat, “Tha can be arranged, my love.”
He’s right. You need a break. You worked your ass off for this, and there comes a time when no more work can be done, and that’s okay. You need to take care of yourself and somehow satiate that anxiety with something other than overworking yourself. 
That night, with your stomach full of chips and ice cream, and nuzzled back against Michael’s chest as he holds you close to him in his sleep, you find yourself sleeping better than you have in a while, knowing that he would fight off any demon that might plan on haunting your dreams. You’re safe in his arms, and it makes life a little easier, knowing he will always be by your side through everything, even if it’s just something as human as presentation anxiety. 
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Mikey Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @ms-murdockswift @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal
Also tagging: @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @bellaxgiornata
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scotianostra · 2 years ago
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25th of April marks  ANZAC Day which commemorates the landing of Australian and New Zealand (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) troops at Ari Burnu on the Gallipoli  peninsula. Let’s pray that we never see a war like the two  that blighted the 20th century, I only wish that wars everywhere would end……
The song And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda was written by Eric Bogle, who left Scotland and emigrated to Australia at the age of 25, he has lived in the country now for over 50 years. Eric says of the song;
“I wrote it as an oblique comment on the Vietnam War which was in full swing… but while boys from Australia were dying there, people had hardly any idea where Vietnam was. Gallipoli was a lot closer to the Australian ethos – every schoolkid knew the story, so I set the song there.”   Bogle is on record for having regretted the lines  “And the young people ask what are they marching for, and I ask myself the same question.” He realised much later that some people thought he was disrespecting what the soldier’s had done in the war. This was not his intention; he wanted to stress the horror of war.
Let’s remember all that have died, not just at Gallipoli, but worldwide in all wars.
And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda
Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack, And I lived the free life of a rover From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback, Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over. Then in 1915, my country said “Son, It’s time you stopped rambling, there’s work to be done”. So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun, And they marched me away to the war.
And the band played Waltzing Matilda As the ship pulled away from the quay And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, We sailed off for Gallipoli.
And how well I remember that terrible day, How our blood stained the sand and the water And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay, We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter. Johnny Turk he was waiting, he’d primed himself well He showered us with bullets and he rained us with shell And in five minutes flat, he’d blown us all to hell Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
But the band played Waltzing Matilda, When we stopped to bury our slain. We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs Then we started all over again.
And those that were left, well we tried to survive, In that mad world of blood, death and fire And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive Though around me the corpses piled higher Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head And when I woke up in me hospital bed, And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I’ll go no more waltzing Matilda All around the green bush far and free To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs No more waltzing Matilda for me.
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed And they shipped us back home to Australia The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay, I looked at the place where me legs used to be And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me To grieve, to mourn, and to pity.
But the band played Waltzing Matilda As they carried us down the gangway But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared Then they turned all their faces away.
And so now every April, I sit on me porch, And I watch the parade pass before me. And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march Reviving old dreams of past glories And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war And the young people ask “What are they marching for?” And I ask meself the same question.
But the band plays Waltzing Matilda And the old men still answer the call, But as year follows year, more old men disappear Someday no one will march there at all.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me? And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
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eurydicees · 2 years ago
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love love love the way you write those fics based on prompts, can you pls do one for atsuiwa and 71 :)
first of all, thank you so much, i'm so glad you're enjoying them!! i love writing them sm. that being said some of these songs Do Not Fit. this one was super fun to write though!! i wrote it mostly on my phone in a car so forgive me for any typos, and sorry about the angst lmao. blame the song not the writer.
summary: the memories never really go away. they never really heal, either. atsumu left his fingerprints all over iwaizumi's heart and those are not bruises that are ever going to fade. prompt: spotify wrapped #71, all too well, ten minute version (taylor swift) pairings: atsumu miya/hajime iwaizumi words: 2724 warnings: bittersweet/unhappy ending, unsafe driving
remember me / bruise me
memory / it all comes back 
After it’s all over, Iwaizumi remembers it too well. It’s not a distant memory, not yet, though maybe one day it will be. 
But right now it’s more like a bruise, one that won’t fade. Purple and blue and yellow, right there on his heart and growing every day. Iwaizumi watches Atsumu, grander than life on the TV screen, and can almost feel his fingers press into that bruise. 
getting colder / border lines
It’s the time of year when the wind starts to bite and the chill in the air begins to leave Iwaizumi’s cheeks pink and the tips of his ears red with cold. He pulls his gloves on as he exits the MSBY Black Jackals training center, already shivering before he’s even made it a block closer to the bus stop. He’s been working for the Jackals for a few weeks now, filling in a temporary position while he waits for preparation with the national team to start. 
“Iwaizumi!”
Iwaizumi stops, frowning as he turns around. Atsumu is jogging down the sidewalk, chasing after him. “Hey.”
“You forgot your scarf,” Atsumu says. He’s not out of breath, but his words leave a fog in the air. “Didn’t want you to be caught in the cold without it.” 
“Oh,” Iwaizumi says, blinking. 
Atsumu grins at him, that wide smile that makes the lines at his eyes crinkle and his cheeks flush. “Here.”
“Thanks.” 
Iwaizumi is ready for Atsumu to hand over the blue scarf—the only one he owns, a hand-knit gift from his mother—but Atsumu reaches over and drapes the scarf around his neck himself. He wraps the scarf around his neck twice and then tucks the ends in. 
“There,” Atsumu says, looking all too satisfied with himself. 
Suddenly flustered, his cheeks pink and heart picking up, Iwaizumi just nods numbly. The cold must be getting to him. That must be why his head feels so dizzy. 
Atsumu turns away to head back to the gym parking lot, where his car is. He grins again. “You’ll miss your bus if you stand there all day, you know.”
Iwaizumi blinks. “Oh. Right. Right, shit.”
Atsumu laughs—not cruelly, but clearly entertained by Iwaizumi’s sudden imbalance. His legs feel shaky, breath caught in his throat. “See you tomorrow.”
Then he’s walking away, hands shoved in his coat pockets and head held high. Iwaizumi watches him walk away, wondering why he can’t focus on anything except the gait of Atsumu leaving. 
He misses his bus. 
red lights / promises 
Atsumu gives Iwaizumi a ride from his apartment to a party being held at Onigiri Miya, forty-five minutes away. What Iwaizumi discovers—very, very quickly—is that Atsumu Miya is actually a really terrible driver. 
Iwaizumi sits in the passenger side seat, gripping tightly to the edge of the seat as he stares through the windshield with an intensity that’s almost scary. Atsumu hits a pothole at 64 kilometers per hour and Iwaizumi swears that either he flies out of his seat or his soul leaves his body. Either way, he lurches against the seatbelt and is suddenly incredibly grateful for the car safety measures his parents had ingrained in him as a teenager learning to drive for the first time. 
“You don’t have to be so tense,” Atsumu says, glancing at Iwaizumi. “I’m a perfectly fine driver.”
“Please keep your eyes on the road,” Iwaizumi says through gritted teeth. 
Atsumu laughs. “I’m paying attention, I promise.”
“Fuck, fuck, Atsumu, that was a red light!”
Atsumu flinches, whipping his gaze back to the road and away from Iwaizumi. “Oops.”
“I’m going to die,” Iwaizumi mutters, not quite sure if he’s joking or not. Atsumu laughs anyway. “I’m actually going to die in a car with Atsumu Miya.”
“It’d be an honor to die by my side,” Atsumu says indignantly.
Iwaizumi closes his eyes. He can’t watch another stop sign fly by without Atsumu showing any sign of knowing what the brake pedal does. If anything, he speeds up just to spite Iwaizumi. 
“Whatever,” Iwaizumi mutters. “Please just tell me we’re almost there.”
“About ten minutes away.” 
Iwaizumi lets out a sigh of relief. Atsumu hits another pothole. 
red flushed cheeks / pressing close
The party is to celebrate the announcement of the National Team members for the Olympics—everyone there is either on the team or close to someone on the team. Iwaizumi, though he works for the team and received an explicit invitation from Osamu, is a drink in and still trying his best not to feel out of place or unwanted. Parties have never really been his thing; he much prefers a quiet night in. He’s never sure how to mingle with people he isn’t close with or how to introduce himself to people he doesn’t know. 
But Atsumu seems determined to make him socialize. He wraps one hand around Iwaizumi’s forearm and drags him over to every table that people are sitting at. He knows many of them already, but there are still new faces and names that he can’t quite keep track of. 
It’s overwhelming, after a little while. He’s just about ready to make his excuses to Atsumu and go sit with Ushijima, who’s become a kind of eye in the storm that is the rest of the team’s antics. Before he can say anything, Atsumu glances at him, seeming to read his expression without needing words. 
“Want to get some air?” Atsumu asks, motioning towards the back door. Iwaizumi nods, and Atsumu pulls him across the room and outside. Iwaizumi swears he feels everyone’s eyes on them as the door swings closed. 
“It was getting kind of warm in there,” Iwaizumi says. He sits on the concrete steps, rubbing a hand over his face. “I love this team but…”
“But we can be a lot,” Atsumu finishes, smiling a little. He sits down next to Iwaizumi, quiet. Iwaizumi wants to make some kind of joke that this is the first time Atsumu has been quiet in his life, but he doesn’t. There’s something too gentle, too precious about the moment. Then Atsumu breaks the silence. “Do I ever overwhelm you?”
Iwaizumi swallows, not sure what to do with the question. It feels like Atsumu is asking something more than that but Iwaizumi doesn’t know what it is. 
“No,” he says, and he’s surprised to realize that it’s the truth. Atsumu doesn’t overwhelm him. He’s too attentive, too conscious of Iwaizumi’s boundaries, to be an unforgiving presence. “You never do.” 
“Oh.” Atsumu exhales, breath hanging in the air. Iwaizumi shivers. “Good.”
Iwaizumi watches him out of the corner of his eye, not sure what he can say. But Atsumu smiles, and Iwaizumi figures that he doesn’t have to say anything. This is comfortable enough. 
pressing close / red flushed cheeks
Atsumu cannot cook. Despite having a brother who’s one of the most loved chefs in the area, Atsumu cannot for the life of him cook. He can get by enough to be a functioning athlete and he can kind of follow the type of recipe that involves a microwave, but Iwaizumi finds out that Atsumu broke his stove trying to turn it on and nearly has an aneurysm. He doesn’t know how that's even possible.  
So Iwaizumi tiredly drags Atsumu to his own apartment for a real, home cooked meal, the first he’ll have had since Osamu gave up on teaching him how to pan fry things without burning himself. 
“I’m not letting you starve to death,” Iwaizumi says, rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m going to feed you if you broke your oven.”
Atsumu laughs, hopping up to sit on the counter. “I should break my kitchen appliances more often if it means you’re gonna cook for me.” 
“Don’t you dare. And get off my counter.”
“Fine, fine,” Atsumu says, still laughing lightly. 
He jumps off the counter, then walks over to lean over Iwaizumi’s shoulder and look at the pot of tomato sauce that he’s stirring. He rests his chin on Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi tries to hold back a flinch. It’s not that he doesn’t like the contact or doesn’t want it, it just surprises him every time that Atsumu initiates it. Atsumu has always been a touchy person, always giving hugs and high fives, but Iwaizumi never thought he’d be on the receiving end of it. 
Atsumu doesn’t seem to notice Iwaizumi’s hesitation, settling with his chin on Iwaizumi’s shoulder as if he belongs there. He hums softly, then pulls away. “Can I put on music?” 
“Sure,” Iwaizumi says absentmindedly, not really paying attention as Atsumu starts tapping away at his phone. After a moment of silence, Atsumu starts playing some song that Iwaizumi doesn’t recognize. 
Iwaizumi is all too aware of it as Atsumu steps back, closer to him again. He puts his hands on Iwaizumi’s hips, then starts swaying slightly. Iwaizumi swallows hard. He lets Atsumu move him; sway, sway, sway. He lets Atsumu do what he wants, but he’s also always been so aware of Atsumu’s touch that this is sending the heat on his cheeks into overdrive. 
“Atsumu,” Iwaizumi chokes out. “What are you doing?” 
“Just feel the music,” Atsumu says, his breath hot next to Iwaizumi’s ear. He takes Iwaizumi’s hand, putting the spoon on the counter. Then he’s spinning Iwaizumi around to face him. Their chests are nearly pressed together, and Iwaizumi can see the deep dark of Atsumu’s eyes. They’re so close. They’re so close. Iwaizumi is pretty sure that he’s not breathing. Atsumu chuckles a little, pressing their foreheads together. “Relax.” 
Iwaizumi takes a shaky breath. He can see the place where Atsumu had been biting his lip earlier, a ridge on his bottom lip. He wants to—
Then Atsumu is leaning in, their swaying paused, his hand trailing up from Iwaizumi’s waist to his cheek, guiding him closer. Then—
It’s their first kiss. Iwaizumi won’t ever forget it. 
promises / red lights 
They kiss again and again and again and at some point Iwaizumi stops counting because he thinks that it’ll never stop coming. He stops counting because he thinks that he’ll never run out of time. 
It was fucking stupid of him.
“I’m moving,” Atsumu says quietly. Iwaizumi goes still. They’re lying in his bed, tangled up in the bedsheets and holding onto each other as if they’ll never let go, as if there’s no point in trying. Atsumu has his head resting on Iwaizumi’s chest, making no move to shift and look Iwaizumi in the eyes. “A team in Paris wants me.” 
Iwaizumi says only, “Oh,” and he’s pretty sure that’s the only word left that fits in his mouth. He’s pretty sure that he’s forgotten how to say anything else, anything that matters. 
It’s not like they were ever anything official. This, this thing, between them—they never actually talked about it. They never defined anything, they never put a label on it. This, whatever it is—was—never mattered enough. Enough to talk about this together. Enough to even bring it up before the decision was made. Enough to mean something to Atsumu, apparently. 
“I already signed the contract,” Atsumu continues. “I leave next month. Coach and the team all know already.” 
“Oh,” Iwaizumi murmurs again. Everyone knew except for him. Everyone. 
Atsumu says, “I didn’t know how to bring it up to you before.” He says, “I should have said something earlier, probably.” He says, “Are you mad?” 
Iwaizumi swallows. “I—” 
Words don’t feel like enough for what he’s feeling. They don’t feel like enough to express the boiling of emotion in the pit of his stomach. He moves his hand, letting go of Atsumu and gently pushing him away. He sits up, rubbing his hand over his face and then wrapping his arms around his knees, the movements jerky. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to move his body, what to say. 
“I think you should go,” Iwaizumi whispers. He squeezes his eyes shut. He didn’t think it would hurt this much when Atsumu left; because he was always going to leave, Iwaizumi knows now. Atsumu was never meant to stay with someone like him. “I’ll—just. Can you go?” 
I’ll be okay, he wants to say. I’ll see you later. 
But that doesn’t feel true, not really. Atsumu’s love, care, friendship—whatever you want to call it—feels, now, like a stain on his heart that he can’t scrub away even now that Atsumu is going to disappear. Off to fucking Paris with a month’s warning. 
“We’ll still be friends,” Atsumu says, something desperate in his voice. 
Iwaizumi takes a shaky breath. “Good luck in Paris, Atsumu. You’re gonna—you’re gonna do great.” 
border lines / getting colder
Atsumu calls, sometimes. 
Iwaizumi always answers. 
Atsumu tells him about Paris: his new team, the city, all of the new things he’s trying, the strangeness of a new language, the difficulty of communicating with people who don’t understand him, how brilliant his new team is, how much he loves playing with them, how much he’s enjoying himself. He tells Iwaizumi about all of his new adventures, all of the things that Iwaizumi can never be there for. 
There was a time when they shared these moments in person. They went out and explored the towns they traveled to for games—together. They tried new restaurants together. They played volleyball together on their off days. Iwaizumi recalls all of it so clearly, with so much fondness, with so much nostalgia. But no amount of remembering is going to change the fact that it’s over. 
Atsumu tells him about a girl he met. She’s pretty: blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, thin. Kind. Gentle. Doesn’t know a thing about volleyball, but wants to listen to Atsumu talk about it, wants to learn. She’s dreamy. 
Iwaizumi doesn’t know why the fuck Atsumu thinks he wants to hear any of this, but he listens anyway. It’s a little masochistic of him; listening to Atsumu talk makes him want to hit something or maybe cry and he doesn’t know how to fix it. 
Their phone calls are always long, as if Atsumu can never run out of things to say. Iwaizumi tells him things too: life in Japan, how it feels at his new job with the Red Falcons, the beginnings of preparation for the Olympics, his new favorite ramen shop, which just opened down the street. 
There’s always so much that they can bring themselves to say. There’s always so much that they do say, letting the phone line ease the fear of saying them. There are, too, so many things that they aren’t afraid to say in the first place. Then again, there are always so many things Iwaizumi wants to say that he can’t. Atsumu doesn’t want to hear them, and he knows it. 
One day, despite this: “I miss you,” Iwaizumi says quietly. It’s painful to admit, it’s painful to break his own heart every time he talks to Atsumu. This time, that doesn’t stop him from saying it. He’s always been blunt, always been able to call it as he sees it, but this hurts. 
“I’ll call you later,” Atsumu says, faint over the phone line. “Bye, Hajime.” 
Iwaizumi hangs up. 
it all comes back / memory 
They see each other at the Olympics. It’s the first time that they stand face to face in a year. It’s the first time that they’ve been within the same country’s border lines. It’s strange. It feels weird. It hurts. Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to do with this, with this feeling. He doesn’t know what to do with the bruise that’s aching on his heart, in the space between his muscles, all over his body. 
He remembers it all. Everything Atsumu made him feel. The masterpiece of it all. The glory of it all. The driving too fast, letting go of fear and embracing the unknown, jumping off of a ledge and trusting Atsumu to catch him. Dancing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fire of the stove flickering under the pot, the smell of their dinner cooking. First kisses. The taste of Atsumu’s chapstick. 
He sees Atsumu again at the training camp before the Olympics. It all comes back like a rush of blood to the head. Like fingerprints pressed onto a bruise. He remembers, and he does nothing about it. There’s nothing he can do. 
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gayandfairycore · 2 years ago
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[Sacrifice] Simon kalivoda x reader
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A/n: hi!!! This is my first fic in like four months oh my god! I’m a terrible perfectionist when I wrote so I tend to start wips and never finish them! But I just recently watched fear street for Halloween and fell head over heels for Simon so I decided for my first fic in awhile to be of him! My man deserved better 😭🫶🏻 (this is my first lr second time writing angst? I believe! So apologies of it sucks lol!) I also have to update my master list I don’t write for half the people on there anymore! Also bold and small text means it’s a flashback! And italics mean it’s kinda in simons pov! This is my first fic of Simon so he may be a bit ooc! This is also not proofread
Summary: coming along with the group to save Sam, unspoken feelings arise as it becomes apparent it may be your final night alive. Tho you are determined to not let any of your friends die if you have anything to say about it. Y/n a brash girl decides to fight for love, and her friends lives. Even if it kills her.
Warning: angst, major character death, decapitation, brutal bread slicer, murder, bashing in someone’s skull, OD-ing, drowning, (probably more)
Saving Sam had been the right thing to do you knew this, you voted on not leaving her for dead in the hallway but it didn’t stop the fear of knowing you could be going to your death in a fucking grocery store.
You weren’t even sure how you got mixed up in this, oh wait. No you do remember, you were hanging out with Simon and Kate whilst they babysat doing nothing but talking about stupid shit, with Simon and watching jaws, and sitting in between his legs.
Everything had been fine Until deena had called Kate telling her that sams boyfriend had broken into her house for some dumb prank wearing a skull mask.
No one had expected the same dude in a skull mask to be in the house Kate babysat in, Rummaging through laundry? It was safe to say y’all were freaked.
Honestly none of you were prepared to fight century old murderers you all were along for this ride, but there was no way you’d be hopping off this ride. Not when your friends lives had been in the line, Fuck that.
So here you were standing in a grocery store in bad smelling lost and found clothes, watching as Simon told Sam exactly how to od.
Safe to say you didn’t think you’d watch Simon, your simon, your best friend and crush since diapers teach your other friend how to od on a Friday night. But there’s a first time for everything.
The epi-pens had been bunched in your hands as you listened to simon tell the group when each pile was to be taken.
“You need to take these in order. Now pile one takes the edge off. You’re gonna feel kinda like you’re being fucked by a unicorn!” Simon spurs off his hands gesturing wildly as he smiles at Sam and Deena through his eyelashes
“Pile two is gonna bring your core temp way down, you may feel slightly sick?” He shrugs, a deep serious rasp is in his usually carefree voice.
“Now you need to take a five minute interval between pile two. And pile three. That’s really important, okay?” A deathly serious look takes over his eyes as he stares at Deena and Sam
“Pile three brings you down and out, so you gotta take that “take five” or it’s all gonna go to shit!” Simon instructs his hands gesturing towards the pile rings glistening.
“How many of these do we have?”kate questions gesturing towards you carrying the epi-pens
“Y/n darling pass me the pens” Simon speaks softly, turning towards you, with a toothy grin; before taking them from your grasp lightly
And stating, “Tons like a thousand!”
“Wait? Epi-pens?” Deena asks her eyebrows screwn in confusion
“Epinephrine? Also known as adrenaline. This is what brings her back.” You pipe up determined smile on your face, a proud glint glistens in Simons brown eyes.
“This is Jesus!” He adds shaking the pile of epi-pens.
It was only when you were Smearing sams blood on yourself did you truly feel the fear set in; fear, determination, and anger was all that flowed through you. As you all took different corners in the grocery store a feeling of grief overtaking your heart. As you took the front entrance near The fruit and veg aisle.
Even tho no one had died yet, your old selves would surely have to die if you wanted to survive this. It wasn’t fair, why did you have to lose yourselves,
What did you and your friends ever do to be here today, in this grocery store leading killers away from your other close friend who was meant to be fucking murdered. It wasn’t fair, on anyone.
Century old killers had come to strike again and hurt innocent people, like Simon. He was the sole provider for his whole family, sure he’s a bit of a junkie but it doesn’t mean he should die.
It didn’t mean Kate should die, or josh, or deena, or Sam. No one deserved this not the victims who came before you, or the ones that would come after if you failed. You felt filled with determined to end this. Or die trying.
The fluorescent lights seared a deep blue through the deserted store. Your heavy breathing could be heard as ruby lanes singing surrounded your corner of the grocery store your feet planted on the floor in a crouch of the fruit and veg aisle the cool spray of the water that kept the lettuce wet could be felt on your skin it was oddly refreshing, you’d die wet, and with veggies. Tasteful.
Your forehead felt damp with a mixture is sweat and dew, as ruby’s singing growing louder and louder, your hand gripped your mouth with the strength of whitening knuckles to silence your breathing. As ruby crept closer and closer. Until the singing stopped?
Just as you let out a sigh of relief, the brunette girl had pulled you from your crouched position by your hair, springing up she swing her razor towards your face, knicking your cheek as you felt the sticky red substance leak from your newly acquired cut.
“You bitch!” You exclaimed the pads of your fingers stained a bright red, anger blazed in your eyes, as your fingers tangled in her up do.
Pulling her hair back with enough force to rip a chunk out of her head, the pale girl begin to kick and scratch at you, her razor blade discarded with the shock of her hair being pulled.
Her heels stepping on your converse clad feet, before she whirled her fist back, the sound of her fist colliding with your nose and cheek, her punch was enough to stun you as the bright red blood trickled from your nose, towards your lip, you could taste blood. Bringing your toungue up towards the top of your lips you licked the excess blood leaking from your nose. Breathing heavy your hair messy, and matted.
You Spat the excess blood from the punch into the linoleum flooring you begin to back up, slightly stumbling over your shoes.
In that time ruby had grabbed her razor and started singing, walking slowly towards your retreating figure, the cool leg of a ladder had pressed against your back. Not taking your eyes off of the girl you slipped through the middle in attempt to get away from her.
“Cmon ruby Don’t you know it’s bad luck to walk under a ladder!” You nervously chuckled the brunette just smiled at you. As your eyes searched frantically for anything to help you
a tool box had laid discarded by the maintenance ladder. The yellow rubber of the handle of a hammer caught your eye, like a angled beacon of hope.
“Alright bitch, let’s level the playing field.” You whispered your face hardened with anger as you crouched down for it, your hand almost reaching it.
before you felt your leg being pulled out from under you, as your body hit the linoleum floor with a SMACK! Groaning you turned over to face ruby, something unknown glinted in your e/c eyes. Pity? Anger? Or was it Sexual tension?
“Damn ruby” you smiled “take me to dinner first!” You wheezed out your body had hit the ground with enough force to make you see stars.
As the brunette psychopath smiled at you she brought her razor blade down towards you, whisky you wriggled underneath her weight, the sledge hammer sitting so close but yet so far away from you. Your finger tips only just scraped it, whilst Rubys razor cutt deeply at your arm, and then your stomach, a scream had left your throat as the white hot pain of being stabbed seared within your flesh. The girl had turned her razor blade whilst it had still been in your stomach. Tears leaked from your eyes, as you inhaled sharply stretching just fat enough to grip it by your side.
Your vision dotting with black spots as you closed your eyes and focused on what you could control, you tried to suppress the shock your body was going into by remembering Simon. And where you were and the pain you felt.
Feeling the pain meant you were still alive, focusing on what was happening meant you’d be alive to save Simon.
You refused to die here, in the fruit and veg aisle with a psychopath topping you, and stabbing you repeatedly. You knew what you had to do you had to breathe, as a million thoughts pounded through your skull.
Time it just right y/n-the side of her head -I have to save my friends-I have to save Simon-breathe y/n-I think I’m dying-I’m losing too much blood-fuck being stabbed hurts-
Rubys had tilted her head down, savouring this moment. it was the right time. Whirling the hammer as hard as you could into her skull blood spraying when the force of the hammer collided with her skin as it split the first few layers smashing her skull in the process,the deafening crack of rubys skull echoed throughout the store.
You didn’t even remember the war cry that left your lips as you smashed her. her black blood spluttered against your cheek as the pale girl tumbled off of you.
“Good riddance bitch.” You exclaimed, spitting the blood that got in your mouth on her dead corpse.
your hair messy and tangled,and bruises were sure to start forming on your body, as red pools of blood had stained your shirt, your body aching in protest with your movements adrenaline swirling through you. As you wondered your way further down the store.
Your bloody hammer in your hand, you were in desperate need on a fucking Band-Aid.
Kate’s screams weee the next to quieter the atmosphere of the store with fear, but you couldn’t worry about Kate. You needed pain killers.
Simon heard your screams, the blonde haired boy had known it was you immediately, stifling his sobs he held hope that you would survive.
Until he heard the crack! And then deathly silence. His ears rang with anxiety “oh no, no, no! She can’t be dead, she can’t be.” he found himself thinking at the insinuation of your potential death. Tears welled in his blue eyes as thick spit began to moisten his throat with his stifled sobs
He didn’t care about the chaos around him only you. Kate’s screams had been the next to fill the grocery store. The silence after hers had felt less forgiving.
the sticky substance had cling to you seemingly everywhere, your white band shirt had been sliced and covered in bright red pools of blood. Majority yours.
the sight of your disheveled appearance in a reflection of a fridge at the bottom of the aisle had you double checking it was you, blood covered seemingly every inch of you your adrenaline levels high, despite your desheveled appearance and your wounds you didn’t feel it.
You couldn’t you were running on adrenaline, and your only weapon a god damn hammer.
But you didn’t have much choice you decided, taking a shaky breath and moving further into the store, deena and sams discarded pill bowl was the next thing you saw.
Kates screams went quiet, and your shaky breathing filled your ears as your frantically beating heart slammed against your rib cage. As you crept towards where Kate was stationed.
Your hearing seemingly deafened, when you saw Kate’s carnaged head sheathed through in the bread slicer. A shaky “oh…my…god” left your lips as the souring ting of her blood stained your throat.
And you thought being stabbed was bad.
Every inhale stung with the bitter taste of blood that filled the air, it tasted bitter and stale, as the sound of running could be heard behind you. When both josh and Simon had piled out of two aisles not long after you. Them Too witnessing the carnage body of their friend.
The sight of Kate’s mangled body had stifled the boys “I think I’m gonna puke” Simon whispered, “me too.” You chuckled uncomfortably, simon could’ve sworn he had never turned his head so fast he almost had whiplash
When he saw you it was like everything melted away as Simon saw you, alive and breathing. Simon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Oh fuck- y/n!” Simon exclaimed shakily, when he realised it was infact you, Simons heavy breathing filled your ears as he pulled you into a desperate hug, his pale hands clutching your head and lower back, as you wrapped yours around his back and shoulders Holding on for dear life.
Both of you had been shaking. “Oh my god y/n! Are you okay?!? Whose blood is that?” Simon rambled out, when he pulled back from the embrace.
“It’s mostly mine, but don’t worry I got a few good hits on her too.”
“Mostly yours?!?” He exclaimed giving you a once over “oh my god” he was so excited to see you, he didn’t even assume that you could be hurt. His fearful brown eyes turned to look at you it was enough to break your heart.
As you brought him into another embrace, inhaling sharply, when you realised
Your sledgehammer had been discarded next to you during your reunion, and the sight of a rapidly approaching Tommy slater was gonna put a damper on things, it was apparent time was of the essence.
So you did the only thing you could do. You pushed Simon out of the way with all of your might, watching the blonde boy slide away from you, his horrified expression sending a sharp stab to your heart.
Or that might’ve been Tommy’s axe that was planted in your shoulder, yours ears rushed with blood, your heart beating frantically in your chest, your friends had called out your name as your knees hit the linoleum with bruising force.
A delayed scream ripped from you, as Tommy’s axe sucured itself in your shoulder, you called out to your friends, your head staring up at Tommy’s bagged head anger apparent in your eyes as you brought yourself to your feet calling to your friends.
“GO RUN!” Before pain stakenly slowly pulling his axe from you left hand shoulder flipping it over in your right hand you looked Tommy right in his bagged face where his eyes should be and whispered a
“Fuck you.” Before swinging his own axe into his neck successfully decapitating him, his body cluttered to the floor as you stared at his flannel clad headless body before turning towards the way simon went.
Simons choked sobs had been enough to make you start crying more then you already were, as the blonde boy had began muttering to himself “holy shit, holy shit, holy shit” as he was sitting with his knees to his chest in an aisle fully believing he had just sealed the death of the girl he had loved.
“Si?” You spoke from the top of the aisle, the fluorescent lights made you look stunning, the blue and pink of the lights framed you as if you were an Angel.
“Y/n?!?” Simon called out his tearful eyes glistened in the lights, Simon was just happy to see you made it out from the clutches of Tommy, he didn’t care you were covered head to toe in blood, h/c knotted, and bleeding profusely. He still thought you looked beautiful leaning your bleeding body on the axe that could’ve killed you.
He pulled himself to his feet, running over to you, and pulling you into his arms, before sliding down to the floor, your bloody body being moved gently sideways in his lap.
“You-you saved me?” And “oh god why would you do that?!?” He whispered softly as he held your cheeks with such gentleness as he rocked you both, it felt safe being in simons grip.
Sitting in his lap had felt like everything would be okay. Like you finally didn’t need to fight anymore. Like he was going to fight for you. Simons other hand had been frantically putting pressure on your shoulder wound.
You were losing too much blood, your head felt woozy, and your eyelids had felt heavier then they ever were, your breathing had begun to shallow. Simon prayed that deena had finally killed Sam and this was all over.
And luckily for him one of those were true, Deena had succeeded in killing Sam, and bringing her back. And an ambulance and police cars had been dispatched.
With every rock of your body simon had held you with increasing tightness it was like he was forcefully holding ro this earth, for just a minute more.
He felt as if his prayers went unanswered when you gripped his pale hand he held to your face and whispered
“simon…si-“
“No! no, don’t speak save your strength” simon whispered gripping your blood covered hand.
“Simon-” Your grip, tightened.
“-im d-dying, I want you to have this.”
Simon had felt like he had just been stabbed you couldn’t be dying! How could you just accept that you were dying?
Wheezing as you gripped the cool silver of your locket, tearing it from your chest, your chest rattling with each breath.
“Si I want you, t-to have it.”
your eyes drooped before lazily staring up at him through your eyelashes.
Letting go of his hand on your cheek you Brough your hand to his cheek before smiling up at him your teeth covered in blood, your body groaning in protest as you begin to move your head forward to place a lazy kiss on his lips.
Slumping back slowly to your previous position in his arms blood began to trickle from your mouth as you choked out a
“Oh si- p-please don’t cry…”
He didn’t even realise he had been crying.
As Your hand shakily held his cheek throughout your love confession placing a bloody hand cheek on his pale skin, you attempted to smile a bloody smile.
“Remember…I’ll always…be… with you-“
“I love you”
Before your grip on his cheek loosened, falling to the floor limply, before…nothing? The grocery store grew silent, It was silence for the last time that night. There was no sound of your breathing, or his friends screams, or the sound of splashing water or the sound of shoes running on linoleum, only his own choked sobs.
“Y/n? Y/n please answer me” He cried wiping his cheeks of his tears your blood staining his hands as you lightly smacks your face.
“Cmon y/n” smack! “wake up!” Smack!
“Please y/n…” simon muttered in defeat, his sobs loud enough to alert his friends what had happened.
“Please don’t leave me” he cried his grip tightly holding your cooling cheeks your head lulling to the side limply with any movement.
You had looked so peaceful in his arms, your eyes closed, a ghost of a smile on your face, it was apparent you had no regrets.
You were prepared to die for your friends, and die you did, you were brave in life, and braver in death.
Though it didn’t stop simons distraught thoughts to cloud his judgement, he was looking for someone to blame, was it Sams fault? She disturbed the witch, was it deenas? For asking you all to save Sam sacrificing yourselves in the process? Was it’s Kate’s? For being so sure that this plan would work? was it Josh’s? For telling us about Sarah fier, or was it his own. For bringing you here and not turning you away? Telling you to run for the hills and never look back? Or was it your fault? For pushing him out of the way. Simon knew it was wrong but be blamed every single person there.
None so much as he blamed himself, clutching the locket he gave you it reminded him of the time you told him that you’d never take it off, you’d rather have died then taken off the locket.
The chilly night air of the park had bitten your skin as you sat on an old park bench, wrapping your arms around your shoulders and attempting to rub out the goose bumps that had begun to form
Checking your watch every two minutes “god I swear! If simons left me out here in the cold I’ll kill him.”
You spoke staring up into the stars angrily, kicking your foot off of the park bench and jumping down you decided to start your walk home, in the cold, dark night.
In shady side, alone. Yep you were definitely gonna kill him. You had made your way half way down the path near the cover of trees before you heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing.
As they wheezed out an exhausted “y/n!” Before yelling again a little louder, “y/n!” You knew it was Simon but you were still a little mad at him for making you wait thirty minutes in the cold alone at night so you decided to you with him.
“HELP SIMON!” You yelled out mustering hopefully enough faux fear to fool Simon that you were actually in trouble before you let out another blood curdling scream.
“Oh god y/n?!?” Simon called out running in your general direction, stifling a chuckle as you hid yourself behind a tree, laughing at simons scared expressions.
You actually started to feel a bit bad when he called out for the 3rd time in a row voice wavering as he did so, so you knew it was time to throw in the towel and come clean.
Jumping out at simons turned figure shit eating grin on your face at the scream he let out “holy shit! You should’ve seen your face!”
“Oh haha, very funny y/n! I see how it is” Simon sulked sitting down on the dew covered grass breathing heavily, hands on his knees.
“Oh come on! You can’t really be upset?” You asked, planting yourself next to him on the grass, kicking his leg with your leg.
Truth be told he wasn’t upset, he was just relieved that you were okay, and just scared about what he felt when he didn’t see you at the park bench.
“Yes I’m upset! I thought something happened to you!” He exclaimed shaking his head, chuckling at something that popped into his head.
“Whatre you laughing at?”you asked, smiling wildly before placing a hand under your chin and smiling cheekily “My devilish good looks?”
Simon scoffed, “pfft- no! They are no laughing matter!” He said kicking your shoe clad foot lightly “but what I was laughing at was if you ever did get attacked? Can you imagine that? God they’d go crying back to their mamas if they ever faced you!”
“You’re a kicker!” Simon exclaimed toothy grin on his face as you let out a mock gasp “ah! I am not!”
“You so are!”
“Am not!” You pushed
Simon smiled “Are too”
“Am not!” You frowned pulling up some grass and throwing it at him
“Are too!” He replied “but I love ya anyway”
“Oh shut up! You blushed
“what did you want anyway? You called me to the park at the middle of the night and then left me for 30 minutes!”you spoke turning to look at the blonde boy
“Ah! Right, I wanted to give you this.” He replied looking suddenly bashful as he searched his pockets for something.
“I uh…think I lost it when I was looking for you?” Simon spoke scratching the back of his neck as he searched his pant pockets coming up empty handed aside from a button, a stick of gum, and a tissue.
“Simon!” You exclaimed in exasperation“what was it anyway?”
“It was uh, it was a locket!“ a blush littering simons cheeks as he grinned an embarrassed smile his tooth gap on full display.
“Awww Simon, That’s so sweet. thank you! If we ever find it I promise I’ll never take it off!”
Both you and Simon spent three hours in that park in the middle of the night searching for your locket, no flashlights, just the light of the moon.
It didn’t matter if you both caught a cold a couple of days later, both you and Simon had spent hours together searching, you didn’t find it.
If Simon was being honest majority of the time he was just looking at you, in the moonlight, your hair falling in your face, as you chuckled at how dumb this whole thing was.
“Hey y/n why don’t we just call it a night and go back to yours?maybe watch a movie if something?” The blonde boy asked slightly disheartened by your disappointed expression
“Aww okay!” You called back hands on your hips and frown on your face, as both you and Simon walked back to your house, the warmth of the pretty much empty house was already better as you both snuck back into your room turning on a vhs of some random movie you had throwing off your shoes and getting under your covers
Pulling Simon down with you, as you laid your head on his chest, at first the boy didn’t know what to do his hands stayed away from you until you looked up through your droopy eyes
“What…areee you waiting for? Put your arms round me” you slurred sleepily Simon brought his arms to rest around your midriff as he called out your name
“Y/n?”
“Mm”
“I actually didn’t lose the necklace…”
“Hmm then Why did we spend hours looking for it?” You asked your head still planted firmly on his chest, eyes closed on the verge of sleep
“I just didn’t want the night to end…”
“I didn’t want it to end ‘ither, god I love you…” you yawned out giving in to the bliss of sleep
Simon froze at your words his eyes blowing wide, he just pulled you more into him holding you close to his body.
“I love you too.” He smiled placing a kiss on top of your head “I love you too…”
The memory just made him want to cry over and over again.
Until the red and blue lights off the ambulance and cop cars arrived, his tears shone in the reflection of the lights as he stifled his sobs, his hands gripping your body tighter as the paramedics piled in.
he wouldn’t let go of your body, clinging desperately too you. His friends hands on his shoulders were the only thing that got him to let go. Even tho he physically gave you over, your weight felt like it was still there, choking him.
Joshs face has been watching Simon his hand on his shoulder concern clear in his features “simon…”
Simons red and blotchy face wet with tears glanced up at him
“she’s dead, josh.” His voice hardening anger and despair setting into his voice as he continued;
“she’s dead because of me…”
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wroteclassicaly · 3 years ago
Text
May I Taste Your Sin
(Michael Langdon x Female Reader)
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Pairings : Michael Langdon x Female Reader
Warnings : Language, smut, blood, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blood play, & period sex.
A/N : This fic has been a loooong time coming! I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but now that I have inspo I wanted get this out for y’all! The warnings are obviously self-explanatory, so skip this if you don’t like the contents it’s gonna contain! Michael Langdon eats human hearts, and he’s a demon, before anyone starts to fuss over this, lol. I’m sure menstrual cycles with his partner would be a dessert to him!
Enjoy! This one is pretty intense, so I’m nervous about it! I also have more installments with different characters coming in the next few days! :)
Check out where I first posted the teaser for this fic, and check out these period sex headcanons I wrote for Michael!
~*~
He keeps staring at you. You try to move about, do your tasks, even attempt conversation with people you’d tried so hard to avoid these past several years. Your abilities to function like the human being that you are, seemingly vanish whenever the tall honey blond is within your exhausted proximities. You aren’t sure if you’d like to let out the loudest echoing scream and see where it ends up in this place, or let your wildest carnal urges guide your hormones into a literal sticky situation. Or, at the very least, let yourself fantasize about seducing him in your own self-created version of reality.
You’ll have to settle on the latter, unfortunately. Pocketing the cream colored dish rag, you place the last row of finely printed novels on the book shelve. Your fingertips linger, attempting to find a portal through their leather cover tops. Your tongue slicks your parched lips, neck stretching to crack out the tension. You aren’t trying to do anything but stealing some relaxation, when a largely hot hand is pressing a knot-out in a knead on your shoulder - clasping, settling a risky purchase.
You don’t have to make an educated guess to know whose hand that belongs to. He practically spews out his control and ownership of this place every chance that he gets. Biting down a venomous sigh, you coerce yourself into a turn around - gathering an eyeful of Langdon’s fancy black vest. That’s not good enough for the King, apparently, as he fits his pointer finger underneath your chin in a tuck, thumb pressing against your jaw to tilt your gaze to his own.
“Did you forget your manners, Miss Y/L/N?”
The way his shining eyes are sizing your attention, captivating your unwillingness to comply to how Langdon makes you feel - it can’t be humanly possible, can it? There’s that possessive ache that begs you to launch ownership over him and his entire body. Why is everything so widely dramatic whenever he’s around? Is he just full of himself or is it something way more than you’re aware? A crackling parch winds its pathway around your throat, sealing your breath in.
Nothing comes from between your lips. You’re frozen solid, legs a weightless press. Each touch this... man brings upon your body is like a bass thump - pumping you towards his secretive rhythm. All you can do is sway with the beat. Langdon smirks coyly, his other hand resting behind his back in an idle grace.
Neither of you dare utter a word. However, Langdon is seemingly content in making you squirm and you try to focus on everything but his perfectly crafted jawline, and how eagerly you’d suck on it if asked. You swear you can hear your heartbeat galloping off, so strong that it can tear your heart right out of your chest along with it. His colorful eyes glance over you in a brief stamping sweep, lingering at your sore breasts and your waistline.
What is he even doing...?
“Excuse me, but Ms. Venable did not authorize any private conferences with the help.” A cold and steel - grasped voice chills your bones down, dusting your cheeks with a reddening humiliation.
You haven’t even so much as spoken to Langdon, yet it feels like you two have been clawing and scratching at each other all over this fucking outpost, riding one another until you can’t fathom walking upright. You still can’t speak, but Langdon takes care of that for you.
“Interesting, and did Ms. Venable give you permission to waltz in here when you weren’t requested or required, just to give a meaningless order?” Langdon is mildly amused in his question, his hand still paused on your chin, thumb now swiping in a tickling drop with his fingertip - along your jaw.
Ms. Mead looks comical in her brief attempt at forming a snappy comeback, only to go silent in defeat. You take this tension as your escape line - quickly edging from the sacred confines Langdon has built for you two, and you all but run out the door. You’re clutching your shirt collar, punching a two pounce path up the staircase and to the help’s quarters.
Chores now, panic later.
~*~
Five minutes. Five fucking minutes in this place that you’ve served without question, complaint, for nearly two years - is all you want. But as the heavy handed rasps of Mead’s knuckle bones beat on your bathroom door, you know that is a simple pipe dream. Her low voice is harsh with you, making your headache unfold into a full blown migraine. You shift uncomfortably, knees knocking together, thighs sore against the cool porcelain seat below you.
Langdon must’ve massively pissed her off... Good.
Your palms collect purchase to your cradle your face, your eyes glistening with tears, throat burning with frustration. It hurts too much to stand upright this time. Normally women would lose this in stressful situations. Add the apocalypse and barely eating, you’d peg it normal to receive nothing. However, your predicament is much worse, fucking you over once more.
Your body welcomes Mother Nature each month. Unpredictable, yet there. Heavy, excruciating. You could list on and on reasons that don’t amount to much. You’re stuck with a part of you that won’t ever come to fruition.
Not in your former life, especially not in this one. Another reminder that carries an award winning irony. Sighing, you peer down at the red dish rag you were given. Literally on the rag, what a joyous harmony. The elites of course, are given the tampons and pads.
You have to use scraps of fabric you’re forced to wash in the bathtub if you move too fast or sneeze. And on your heavy days when you haven’t the time to stop your duties to wash and air out the towels, things are much harder. At least before the apocalypse you had chocolate, feminine products, a warm shower to take your time in, movies to curl up with, and a place of your own to cry where no one could hear you. You sniffle, hormones locking down your heart.
Most recently the outpost had welcomed the cooperative leader Langdon. He had interviewed everyone but you, uninterested, only flustering you a few times. Him being here just makes your period a more unwelcome storm. This morning as you were passing him on the landing of the staircase, delivering the bath towels to elite rooms, he stared at you. Right into you, nostrils flaring, tongue rolling out to slick his plump lips, blue eyes darkening.
Then there was this afternoon. How could I forget...?
The encounters were over quicker than they took place. Still, his acknowledgment of you didn’t bring your interview, nor did it promise your application for the sanctuary he preaches about. Forcing your tears to bank, you stand with your dress skirt and apron held up, staring at the stained rag in your panties. You turn and flush the toilet, eating back around to the shock of your fucking life. There, just feet in the from the doorway, is Langdon in all his glory.
It makes you swallow harshly, stomach drawing off the butterflies that have grown claws. You feel winded. His ring covered fingers bring an object to your sights. A thinly wrapped stick. You don’t answer, you don’t move, you don’t protest him approaching until he’s directly in front of you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You try, a mere whisper betraying your bravery.
“Helping you,” He answers simply, a heated slide crossing his mouth. You can practically taste him, damn near swaying forward.
You start to snap back into your senses, ready to cover your remembered modesty back up. He grasps your wrist, a hungry look soft in his features. “Will you let me?”
You’re shaking, body on fire at him touching you, you try to keep your legs from clenching, that want. You know what will occur if you let yourself. He is gentle with you, admiration clear. Why? You don’t understand this.
“You’re bleeding, I know.”
Jaw unhinged, you stand upright, his fingers still ghosting your skin. An unlucky movement on your part, the warmth spills from you and you look down between your thighs in horror at the red lines running down your legs, pattering against the floor. Langdon is breathing heavily, practically panting, stunning you once more. His other hand grips your cheek, thumb swiping your lip, eyes not breaking contact from yours.
“Do you know how good your cunt smells? Every pathetic person in this outpost is starving and you have the best meal between your fucking legs.”
When your silence stretches on, Michael nudges forward, careful with you. “May I feast?”
It’s all too much to handle. Having him talk to you, you speaking to him. And now this? How? You begin to grow dizzy, hands trembling as you try to pull your clothing back up. Langdon’s hands grip your wrists.
“Please don’t do that.”
You want to stun him incredulously, backhand him. None of that is happening, not even the urge. Instead, your want for him is magnifying beyond any feigned ignorance. Your tongue slides out across your lips, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a brisk chew. Langdon hooks his middle finger between your teeth, releasing your lip and combing the blood across in a coppery gloss.
Your chest is startled, rising and falling in quivering quakes, ears hearing a static rush. Everything inside of you is alive and crying out in need to be sated. Langdon grips you around the waist, lowering his forehead to rest atop your own, his middle finger - still doused in your blood - slithers past his own lips, which close in a sticky suckle. A vibrating moan pummels his throat, causing a constricting swallow that showcases his Adam’s apple.
If I could only just lick that...
Langdon is sly and devilishly cunning to a fault - fast in his next movements. He presses a designer boot down over your skirts, successfully preventing them from being made up. “Leave them here for someone else.”
“I... I can’t. This is too much, Langdon —“ He chuckles at the formality.
“Since I can see your womanhood running from between your legs, I suppose it’s only fair that we skip some formalities, don’t you agree, Y/N?” Your eyes are probably wider than necessary - a cartoon like sight. He’s used your full name in an authoritative command, leaving no room for question. “And you may call me Michael.”
It’s all a little more frantic from this point. He gives the slightest of information, and you see your skirts and panties gliding across the floor in a winded push. Michael brings that wrapped item back into your eye-line. “We won’t be needing this for a while.”
“I didn’t say yes.” You try, swallowing a weak, whimpering stifle.
“But you didn’t say no, did you?” That shit eating grin. He has you and he is all too aware - elated to the brimming brimstone of hellfire you’re about to bestow upon yourself.
Your insides melt into the trenches of red hot, raw ravishment. Michael drops his left arm down, hand palming his hardening cock through black slacks, eyes encouraging you in a chained bind. “Let’s go and make a mess in my room.”
Now or never. No more of this, back to reality, maybe some place better. You’re spinning in a foiling encasement, precipice wide and open - hungry to pull you under. And you dive in, you let it all go. Michael looks satisfied, sharing something with himself that you don’t know... yet.
Taking Michael Langdon’s hand, you’re led into the unknown.
~*~
Langdon leads you down his own separate corridor, your free hand scolded for trying to hold yourself over your uniform.
“I want you to make a mess.” Michael says.
You hope that you’re not the one who will be paying the cost for your own said mess, or cleaning it up. If it’s up to Venable - you’ll be licking it, all the way to her high heeled boots.
Once inside the confines of Michael Langdon’s bedroom, you take the time to look around, enjoying the perks this situation is bringing. The room isn’t any different than what the purple elites get here, it is bordering on a more... lived in feel, which is ironic when you consider that Langdon hasn’t been here like everyone else has for the past three years.
Guess he’s just more comfortable? He does look like an English vampire half the time..
On that note, a particularly harsh cramp antagonizes your uterus, causing you to clench your abdomen, choking out a acidic slice. “Fucking demonic cramps.”
Michael - now clad in his all black ensemble, minus the overcoat - chortles, knotting his fingers together behind his back and strolls forward, wetting his lips as the firelight crackles a sparking soundtrack. “It’s ironic how you refer to it as “demonic”, when Satan really has nothing to do with this. I mean, it’s not on him that humanity failed their pitiful guidelines for sobering temptation. Wasn’t it your lord and savior that bestowed this curse upon you?” He finishes, giving a head tilt to your unhinged stun.
“Are you religious?” Is all you can come up with.
Michael sneers, looking slightly offended. It fades seconds later. “Depends on your definition of religious, and then there is what one believes in. But I guess you can say that I’m devoted to... a certain cause.”
“Were you this mysterious before the apocalypse, or is that why the cooperative gave you the job?” You try, a discomfort crackling at your inner thighs.
They’re probably smeared... And not just with blood.
“I bet you’re uncomfortable.” Michael teases, snapping his fingers at the fireplace. Did your eyes betray you, or did the flames flicker?
You want to give a snappy comeback, but it feels unwise. You nod like the sap that you are, nails biting your palms. Your heartbeat has begun to accelerate, a visible sight beneath your apron. Langdon guides himself to step in front of you, leather shoes drumming across the floor beneath. Every sound in this forsaken room is flowing through your eardrums - Michael’s scent on the tip of your tongue.
You need him. More than your body has to have the air that filters underneath this mausoleum. You’re so unsteady, eyes brimming with the smoking arousal, blocking common sense. Michael catches you as you collide with his chest, wrapping your fists into his vest. His blue irises are disappearing to a canyon of night sky - lavish black so sinful that it steals the breath from your lungs.
Drizzling off your tongue is a hesitation. “Won’t we get into trouble...? Venable -“ Those rough fingertips hold a softness that hushes your lips, denting.
“Can watch me with my face buried into your cunt. The humiliation will arouse her.” Michael answers in his own finish.
You aren’t sure why, but that grates your mouth into a sneaky grin, shared with Michael’s, sensing that slapping throb at his phrases. He pinches your chin, nuzzling your head to the side, his lips sloping a map across your neck. His towering physique backs you by knocking his knees into your thighs, delivering you to the edge of his bed. You drop like wild weights, looking towards the ceiling, trying to take a deep inhalation. Langdon crouches, pants rustling as they tighten around his temptingly thick thighs.
He tuts in a scold, chiding you furthermore. “You will watch what I’m getting ready to do to you! Is that clear, Y/N?”
You don’t answer fast enough, Michael’s hand wrapping around your throat, eyes burning hellfire through you - dusting your bones to ash. Your throat is wet with the clingy, unshed tears. Fuck, you have to be filled up until you’re hollowed out. Michael is languid in grace, hand toppling into your lap, joining his other.
“Take down your hair, Y/N.”
Like a puppet, you obey your new owner. Unwrapping the pointed bun, you shake your locks free, sighing in an eased tickle.
“What a good and obedient girl that you are. Those who obey, shall reap the riches.”
“Why are you doing this?” An ignorant question on your part.
“Because,” As if it’s the most simple answer in this broken world, Michael let’s his hands start to unbutton his vest, carelessly sending it, his attention not wavering off you in the slightest. “I’m hungry.”
A literal moan comes from you, making Langdon hiss through his through his milky white teeth. He resumes his former position, hovering.
“Spread.” Michael says, a quaint wonder adorning him, his palms sliding up and down your legs to feel you part them. The blood is mixing some fucked out potion with your creamy arousal for him, and he knows it, has it right into your tremble from the exposure.
Your skin is steaming in scrapes, responding so vulgarly to Michael, that he is hooking his wrists under your knees, bouncing the flesh into his awaiting hands, and claiming. He hoists your legs over his shoulders to arch you to his idea of perfection. You should be protesting, in a shambled shyness. That is gone, no place here. Michael let’s his nose rest in the crease of your thigh, crudely sniffing like some beast.
His sopping tongue finds a striking stroke along your ruby red, damp thigh.
Closer... He’s getting closer...
When you can’t feel that warm and snide air he possesses, you lock to load a question. Michael is shedding himself of his remaining clothing in a cocky crawl. His hair curtains his face as he sees you seek out his cock - thick and heavy, weighted and wet with pre-cum.
“Finish taking off your clothing.” You’ve never done something so fast in your years alive.
You have to admit, being so vulnerable like this - naked and bleeding, it has you buzzing.
Michael outstretches a veined forearm, the back of his rings swirling in desiring dances across your breasts. “Do these hurt?”
Your lashes are slicked in perspiring tears, the tired soreness harassing your chest. He has his truth. His trim form bows to you once more, placing your legs back where they belong. He knuckles a pressing push into your abdomen. “Bear down.”
It isn’t an accident this time, it’s not a discreet secrecy. Michael wants you this way. All of you. Finding a confidence, you give yourself a high and sink your fingers into his hair, toes tickling his shoulder blades in a forwarding nudge, doubling down on your muscles. That warmth spills out of you and Langdon takes you, tongue parting your swollen folds. He regulates his tongue in wet paints, licking and sucking everything you give him.
“Please—“ You’re already begging. It’s so fucking intense and intimate that you can’t formulate your own damned name.
“Are you really going to ask, or would you just like to feel good?” Michael vibrates, his mouth visible and shining crimson as he seeks you out between your slippery thighs.
It’s outright feral. His irises are coal black, blue lost in some combing canyon that’s crumbled around sin. His digits prod at your sensitive opening, being accepted moments later. His lips close over your clit, tongue slithering back and forth to assist his beckoning fingers. He gathers more from you - his purpose.
That quenched fold starts to seize you early on, your pattering breaths signaling the orgasm that is about to tear the screams from your fucking diaphragm. Michael’s hand smacks and rolls your swollen breast - permission granted. That’s all it takes and you’re falling back onto the mattress, back arching in a lined drag, pussy flattening against his mouth. He jerks you impossibly closer, your vision whiting out into dark spots. You tangle your fingers further into his luscious strands, holding, pulling.
In the midst of close recovery, Michael is plowing you with a short lived let down, his mouth leaving your pussy. You can’t complain, no time available, as his hips slot in a frazzled fit between your legs. His pelvis is tense, sheathed in sweat. His chest smashes your breasts, his hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You can’t speak, but cling tightly to his back. He growls a sound that you’ll never forget, the fire bursting behind him, flames licking the rocked cove that houses them.
His mouth is covered in your essence, your cunt bathing his dick with each violent thrust. It’s pouring in drenches, salty perspiration, pooling blood - both of you losing yourselves in the mess. Michael props himself up, digging into a dipping slam, meeting your mouth in an ending kiss. His hair tickles your shoulders, nose nudges your now blood caked mouth, and he gives the warning.
“Spill your fucking curse all over me!” And you come undone, glued to him in puzzled entrapment.
Your thighs are wrecked, his bedsheets useless, and then there’s Michael, who forces you to look at him and really see him. There’s only black in his eyes. You sputter a disbelief, bracing. His mouth parts, tongue flicks across to gather more, leveling off into his jagged movements. He swells inside your cunt, dousing your walls in his warm cum.
He doesn’t leave you, not even when it’s over. He simply takes you with him. You aren’t sure where you get the courage to speak - body shaking and shivering.
“What... Michael, who are you?”
He cups a hand over your cunt, rolling onto his side, keeping you held to him. He lightly blows away a pesky lock of your hair, then maneuvers another behind your ear.
“I’m the man who’s going to save your wretched existence.”
Tag list : @littledemondani @dark-mei-rose @fckinsupreme @angelicmichael @icylangdon @ritualmichael @sojournmichael @celestialrequiem @instinctsxbaby @infernwetrust @ferndolan @9layerdevilfoodcake @bloodcoatedeclipse @wormycircumstance @antichristsxbox @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons @ramona-thorns @lovelylangdonx @langdxn @codyarchives @dailylangdon @codyfernuk @langdonsjoyy @7-wonders @blakescoven @holylangdon @bitchchatter @suspiriva @taskmastter @kitty4860 @ladynuwanda @langdonsexual @sammythankyou
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yoonoclock · 3 years ago
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forgetful confessions, 2 | jjk
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❝in a less than sober minded state, jeongguk stumbles into your apartment confessing feelings you didn’t know were there. well….you weren’t confident was there. the sad part is, jeongguk remembers nothing of what he said the night before.❞
• pairing: jeongguk x female reader
• genre: fluff, f2l
• warnings: profanity, mention of being drunk
• word count: 1.1k
• note: an eternity later, i finally wrote part two!! apologies for taking so long…working full time has really been a killer. let me know what you think!!
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The last time you confessed your feelings to someone was under a tree outside of his house. You remember this distinctly because it was pouring down rain and you failed to bring an umbrella. He was a boy you naturally developed a friendship with through numerous classes that seemed to line up every semester of high school. Fast forward a few months where you realized that you had a crush on him…it was when he decided to sit beside you. Something sparked within your stomach at that moment. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like now that you no longer are a young girl? Sure, in elementary school you experienced crushes. Those lasted a total of five minutes. This time? It was different. 
Now, what did that have to do with being in front of his house in the rain? You were required to work on a project together. Fortunately for you this was a good thing. That is, until you hesitated to enter his house out of nerves. Eventually he caught on because he stepped outside to see you contemplating life with a miserable expression. 
Perhaps there was a better method to confessing than practically shouting it all in the same breath. He stared at you in disbelief with raised eyebrows. Slowly they moved together with an emotion that read “sorry…I don’t feel the same.” 
He could have laughed. He could have hugged you. Instead, he stared awkwardly at the floor. 
You look back on that…incident as the sole reason you hardly ever tell someone how you truly feel. At least in that case you did create a long time friend by the name of Park Jimin. He never fails to remind you of that rainy day. 
This is what your mind is flooded with once Jeongguk is sat across from you. Your vision of him had always been a glistening light accompanied by warmth. He was your safety. But that doesn’t always equate to romantic love. 
How can you be certain that what is going on within your heart is because it has been there all this time or that it’s due to his drunken confession? Perhaps time is what it takes. 
“I feel like I’m in an interview,” Jeongguk laughed softly. “I am making this more awkward than it needs to be.” 
He couldn’t stop fiddling with the hem of his shirt before meeting your gaze every few seconds. It’s quite the opposite of his character considering he shared every little aspect of his life with you. Sometimes there were no words required, you read his demeanor like an open book. Just like he does with you. 
In this particular situation it has everything to do with his poor delivery through consuming far too much alcohol. 
“How long…” you trailed off. 
Jeongguk smiled to himself, “I can’t pinpoint an exact moment because love develops over time. Every second…every hour…it compiles together until it finally clicks. Love.” 
“Oh,” you whispered. 
Come on, Y/N. You can’t just say oh in response. 
You forced yourself to stand up from the sofa. Thankfully, you both returned to your apartment in order to talk about everything. Discussing something so profound as this can’t be done in public. It’s meant to be in private. For that reason you could peacefully pace your living space. As you attempted to pass Jeongguk for a moment, he gently latched onto your fingers. His touch caused your whole body to cease. 
“Y/N…” you turned to face him. “If I am making things between us worse…one word from you will silence me on this forever. I can’t lose you…ever.” 
The whole world existed in his eyes. A softened glow that never failed to bring you comfort. In reality, he is your best friend who has been there for you in the good moments and the difficult moments. But you cannot lie to yourself in saying you never felt a little pinch of something within your heart. Not only did you find him attractive, you thought he would make the best boyfriend. Does it mean he would be a boyfriend to you? Not necessarily. You erased the thought numerous times because…dude…that’s your best friend. Aren't there dozens of books and movies that start like this where it ends up being awkward? There is no desire to end up like that. 
You need time to figure out your feelings. 
“Jeongguk,” once he heard his name being the first word out of your mouth he awaited the rejection. Except it never came. Instead, he took notice of how you gnawed on your lower lip to properly express what was going on inside your head. 
“Listen,” you pushed aside your nerves in order to convey the truth. “There is something going on in this dusty heart of mine…your drunk confession definitely caused some rusty gears to move.” 
Jeongguk shook his head, “Why do you sound like an elderly man right now?”
“Shut up,” you pouted. “I am not good at sharing stuff like this…but what I’m trying to say is I want time to figure out if this is…real.”
His eyes softened in the way that it usually does whenever he utterly transfixed. You were a sucker for that look. 
“It’s not a no?” He asks for reassurance. 
“No.”
“Wait..it is a no?”
“No!” You slap your palm against your forehead. “I mean it’s a no to it being a no…which is to say that I am not rejecting your feelings.” 
Jeongguk tilted his head back in laughter, “I’m a big dummy with big feelings.” 
How could you not fall for a dork like that?
“I have a suggestion though,” he scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “What if…I take you on a few dates? That way we can both figure this out?” 
“That’s a little formal, don’t you think?” 
“Should I make a grand gesture?” He raised his eyebrow in question despite already deciding to do something out of pure embarrassment. 
You immediately rushed over to him, “Don’t you dare-”
He was out of your grasp in order to fulfill his dream of acting out the famous Romeo & Juliet scene. How did you know this was his plan? Well, he has made it known for years that he wanted to ask someone he cared for on a date in this exact style. You were merely being playful…but at what cost. 
“Stop you dumbass!” 
You ran after him as he booked it down the hallway to meet you outside your balcony. Funny thing is, you were on the first floor so this ‘romantic gesture’ wouldn’t be at the same level as the play. Thank goodness. 
Before he could make it to the front doors, you jumped onto his back to the point of dragging to the cold hard ground. 
“Don’t remember this part in the play,” Jeongguk murmured as he rolled over with a slight groan. “Juliet has a mean tackle.” 
You burst out laughing, “Are you okay?”
“Depends,” Jeongguk met your gaze. “Will you go on a date with me?”
You shake your head in amusement, “Yes, you dummy.” 
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sequinsmile-x · 3 years ago
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I don't know if you accept applications at this time, but How do you think Aaron would react if he didn't know Emily's death was faked? Imagine a 7x01 where he sees that the love of his life didn't really die.
Hi anon!
Firstly, y'all can always send me prompts! I might just take me a little bit to get them done <3
This one made my brain itch, and I couldn't think of anything else until I wrote it.
-x-
Retour Des Morts
Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence, talk of grief/trauma,
Words: 3.5k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Ever since JJ called her and told her it was time to come home Emily had been on edge. Nervous energy simmering beneath her skin. She finds herself looking over her shoulder every few seconds, the ever present feeling of being watched not gone even though her friend had assured her Ian was locked up. 
The entire flight to DC she can only think of Aaron. The thought of seeing him again making something bubble in her stomach. She’d spent months desperately trying to remind herself how it felt to be held by him. Loved by him. Memories of their life together keeping her going. Some mornings those first few seconds she was awake she’d forget. Forget that Ian had come back and torn her life apart, damn near killing her in the process. Forget that she wasn’t sleeping next to Aaron in their bed, in the house they’d bought together. 
Then she’d remember. 
He knew. That was the thought that had kept her going. That the man she loved, the man she hoped would still love her after all of this, knew she wasn’t really dead. 
It was one of the first things she’d asked JJ when she was lucid. If Aaron knew she was alive, not wanting him to go through it again, to lose another woman he loved to the job that had already taken so much from him. JJ told her he knew, that he sent his love.
She should have known something was amiss when he didn’t visit her before she was moved to Paris. That nothing, not even protocol, would have stopped him from laying his eyes on her, from kissing once more before she went away for an undetermined amount of time. 
The moment she sees him, she knows she’s been lied to. He is thinner. He has a beard she’d only seen a shadow of before, her attempts to hide his razor during a long weekend together a failure as he shaved in the bathroom, ignoring her protests from behind him. It looks good, and made her ache for him more than she thought was possible. What gives it away, makes her realise he had no idea she was alive, is the look on his face. The grief that rolls off of him like a terrible cologne, something she had smelt on his skin before. When he lost Haley.
Everything else fades out, JJ and Derek pre-empting the questions, the anger coming their way, becoming white noise. Aaron’s eyes meet hers, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost. 
On some level, she thinks he might have.
The moment the others realise she’s in the room it falls silent, all eyes fixed on her. She swallows thickly, all the anxiety she’d pushed down all day threatening to choke her. She tightens her hold on her purse, the strap over her shoulder, and smiles weakly. 
“Hi.” She says eventually, everyone still staring at her, mouths open in shock. “I’m really sorry.” 
They fall into silence again after that, shock and anger in equal measure filling the room, the air thick with it. 
“I need the room.” Aaron says sternly. They all turn to look at him, his jaw clenched tightly, his hands gripping the back of the chair in front of him.
“Hotch, with all due respect-” Derek starts, an attempt to be the voice of reason that Aaron cuts over, not giving him the chance. 
“I need the room.” He says, leaving no room for argument. “Now.” 
“Five minutes.” JJ says, stopping Derek from saying anything else, looking at Aaron with her lips set in a firm line. “We can give them five minutes.” 
The rest of the team filter out without any further comments, Spencer’s eyes fixed on her, tears shining in them, until he’s out in the hallway. Penelope squeezes her arm on the way past, as if she’s trying to prove to herself that she’s real, that she’s there. Dave winks at her, a look on his face that tells her he’s not as shocked as the rest of them. 
She can’t bring herself to look at JJ and Derek, the two people who clearly knew she was alive, anger at the lies she had been fed, that they’d all been fed, threatening to boil over. 
There would be time to be angry later. 
The door closes behind the team and for the first time in months she’s left alone with the man she loves. The last time she’d seen him, just the two of them, was in his office before she left. He’d been worried about her, able to see something was wrong, but she’d brushed him off. She kissed him, right there in his office with the blinds open, wanting one last little bit of him before everything changed forever. 
The next time she saw him she was on the ground in the warehouse in Boston, a table leg through her abdomen and everything feeling hazy. Her last conscious thought being of his hand in hers, his fingers against her cheek as he begged for her to stay awake. 
He crosses the room in seconds, standing so closely to her she can smell him, the comforting scent that she had missed so much it made her ache. He reaches out for her, his hand stopping just short of her cheek, his fingers twitching, as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear into a puff of smoke. 
“Aaron.” She breathes out, closing her eyes when he finally makes contact, his calloused fingers against her skin. “I thought you knew.” 
He pulls her into a fierce hug, his hold bordering on being too tight, squeezing her to his chest in a way she could never deny him. 
“I didn’t.” He chokes out, the first words he’s spoken to her since he ordered everyone else out. She wraps her arms around him too, turning her face into his neck. “Fuck, Em. I…”
He drifts off, and she can feel him shudder. It was an impossible situation, something you could never prepare yourself for. Seven months of grief, of utter heartache, brought to an abrupt end in a second. His world once again shifting on its axis. 
“I know,” she says, her hands grasping at the back of his shirt, “I’m so sorry, baby.” She heaves in a deep breath, tries to get back on an even footing. They didn’t have time for this, to fall apart, not yet. It would have to wait until Declan was found and they were home. “I was told you knew.” 
There's a knock on the door and JJ opens it, her head popping in, and she smiles apologetically at them as they pull apart slightly. 
“I’m so sorry, but we really need to get on.” JJ says, walking in as the rest of the team follow.
Aaron and Emily don’t completely separate, standing close enough to each other that their shoulders are brushing. 
“I know this must be a shock.” Emily says, her smile shaking a little as she looks at her team, the shocked tears Penelope had been trying to hide finally falling onto her cheeks. 
“A shock?” Spencer asks, his voice incredulous. “We thought you were dead.” 
“Emily did not make that call.” JJ says, crossing her arms over her chest as if she was protecting herself, understanding that for one reason or another everyone, except Derek, was angry at her. “We did what we had to do to save her life.”
“We?” Penelope says, looking from JJ to Derek, and sighing when it clicks. She looks at Derek sternly. “You knew.” 
“I did what I had to do.” He says calmly, sure in his decision. 
“I am the head of this unit.” Aaron forces out, his control on a knife's edge. “I should have been informed.”
“You’re also in a relationship with her,” Derek explains, “It was decided it was best you didn’t know, keep up appearances.” 
“It was not your place to make that call.” Aaron exclaims as he takes a step towards him, but Emily stops him, her hand on his arm. 
“You would have done the same thing, Hotch.” Derek says, shaking his head slightly. “You know that.” 
“What I know is I had to bury a woman I love for the second time. I had to explain to my son, again, that someone else he loves is gone.” 
Emily stiffens at that, at the crack in his voice as he finishes. At the knowledge that if Aaron thought she was really dead Jack would too washing over her like ice water. They’d buried her. 
“I can’t-”
“We don’t have time for this,” Emily says, cutting Derek off before he could continue, aware how quickly this argument could escalate, “I need to speak to Ian.” 
“Emily, absolutely not.” Aaron replies, drawing her attention back to him, and she smiles sadly, her hand squeezing at his arm again. 
“Aaron, it will be fine. I’m the only one who can do this.” 
He hesitates but he nods, and she smiles at him again, stepping away from him. 
“I can take you.” JJ offers, looking at the two of them and Emily nods in agreement, following her out. They’ve only made it a few paces out when JJ stops, turning to look at her friend, “Em-”
“Don’t.” 
“Emily, I-”
“No,” she says firmly, harsh in a way she never remembered speaking to JJ, “you lied to me. You told me he knew.”
JJ closes her eyes briefly and blows out a breath. “I did what I thought was best.” 
“What you did was cruel.” Emily replies, getting a tiny bit of sick satisfaction when JJ recoils slightly, any good nature towards her friend that she knows would come later nowhere to be found.
“You would never have stayed hidden if you knew the truth, and that would have put all you at risk.” 
Emily knows it’s true, knows that once she has some more distance from this, when her heart is stitched back together, she’ll be able to see that. But right now it was too raw, the intensity of Aaron’s grip on her still in her mind, the ghost of his hold still tight around her ribs. 
“We need to get going.” Emily says, letting JJ lead her down the hallway as if she didn’t know the layout of this place like the back of her hand. Like the bullpen hadn’t featured in many of her dreams the last several months. 
She ignores the photo of herself on the wall as she walks past, the thought of how often Aaron must have stood in front of it pushed to the back of her mind.  
___
Aaron takes her home after Ian dies. 
She’s grateful for it, desperate to be away from the tension between the team. Nothing like the people she had left behind, the group she once considered family. Aaron leaves Derek to do all the practical work after Declan is safe, a snide comment under his breath that Derek was capable of making those decisions too.
Emily has so many things she wants to ask Aaron. Clarification on things she had overheard the others talking about, the time he had apparently spent in Pakistan a shock to her. But she’s not sure how to ask, how to start to unpick the tangled web they’d found themselves in. She isn’t sure she wants to, hoping that when they pull at that thread they don’t unravel entirely. 
Their house hasn’t changed at all. It’s exactly as she remembers it, and it makes her heart crack even further. A grim mausoleum to their life before, to the people she knows they can’t be again. She can tell it hasn’t been lived in recently, no signs that give away use, a slight musk to the air that was stagnant. 
“Are you hungry?” Aaron asks, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. She turns to look at him, he looks tired, shattered in a way that reminded her of the days after Haley died. How she’d held him together with nothing but her love and patience. He’s not really looking at her, his gaze fixed on the floor. “There's no food…but we could order in.” 
“I’m ok.” She replies, smiling at him as best she could, wanting nothing more than to hug him, to feel his strength against her. But she doesn’t know if he wants that, if any of the anger he’d poorly covered all day was aimed at her. She feels everything she’s been pushing back all day coming to the surface, the safety of their home somewhere she had always been able to let it all go. It feels different, the silence between them stifling, and she hates it. “I can stay at a hotel if you want.” 
His head snaps up, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?” 
“If you need space, until we figure it out.” She replies, her arms around herself as if she was holding herself together. “I know this must have all been a shock.” She shakes her head, blowing out a steady breath as she tries to push back her tears to no avail. “I am so sorry.” 
He stares at her for a second, before he walks the few paces that separate them, coming to a stop in front of her. 
“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight any time soon you have another thing coming.” He answers, his voice cracking. 
It’s enough to break her, the relief that he still wants her, and she finally sobs, the noise breaking free before she can stop it. She leans forward, closing the gap between them and holding him, relief flooding through her when he holds her back just as tightly. 
“I love you.” They say simultaneously, both of them chuckling through their tears, the noise sounding wet, humourless. She pulls back to look at him, unsurprised to find tears on his cheeks too. 
“Come on,” she says, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, smiling into it when he cups the back of her head to hold her there, their foreheads pressed together, “we should go lay down, talk about some things.” 
They get ready for bed like they always had, moving around each other's routines like it was only last night when they had last done this, not months ago. It’s only when he walks into the bathroom part way through her changing and he freezes to the spot, her shirt on the ground and her bra and pants still on, that she’s once again reminded how much has changed. 
He’s staring at her abdomen, the mess of scar tissue spreading out from beneath her ribs, still raised and red despite months of healing. She’s used to it now, able to look at it in the mirror without wincing, as much of a part of her as the silver line on her forearm left behind by Cyrus. A part of her skin that Aaron often ran his fingers over, as if he was trying to soothe it away, remove the pain from her past that he felt responsible for. 
“Aaron…” She drifts off, unsure what to say, assaulted by memories of when he first tried to hide the scars Foyet had given him from her. 
He walks over, kneeling on the ground in front of her, his hands delicate at her waist. He traces his fingers over the scar, the skin still numb enough she doesn’t entirely feel it. He leans forward so his forehead is against her, and she wraps her arms around him, holding him in place. 
“I’m alive.” She says, her chin wobbling as she tries to hold back her tears, the way he holds her even tighter, his arms banding around her back, threatening to break her. “I’m right here, honey.” 
She isn’t sure how long they stay there in their odd embrace, his breath skipping across her bare skin as he feels the expansion of her ribcage. As if being at the source of it was the only thing keeping him grounded, reminding him she’s alive. Eventually they part without speaking, finishing their routines so they can climb into bed. 
It briefly feels awkward again as they get under the covers together, both clearly unsure if they should get any closer. Aaron makes the decision for them, pulling Emily towards him so her head was on his shoulder, their bodies pressing together. 
“So,” she starts, her hand sneaking under the neckline of his t-shirt, needing to feel the warmth of his skin, “Pakistan?” 
He tenses in her hold and she curses herself for mentioning it. “I was offered the opportunity, and I took it.” He answers simply. “I needed to be somewhere else.” 
“Somewhere else?” She asks, frowning into his chest.
“Anywhere else but here.”
She nods, understanding that. “And Jack?” 
“Is with Jessica. He understood.” He sighs. “I’ll call tomorrow. Explain I’m back,” he chuckles humorlessly. “Try and figure out how the hell to explain you’re back too.” 
He kisses her forehead, a silent sign he isn’t mad at her for that part, that he’s beyond grateful he has her back after months of wishing for this very thing. 
“We have a lot to figure out, don’t we?” She asks carefully, tilting her head to look up at him. “The team, the Senate Committee. Jack.” 
“Yes,” he replies, his hand cupping her face, his thumb delicate against her cheekbone, “we can figure it out together.” 
“I still have so much to apologise for,” she says, her voice shaking a little, “I never…I just wanted to keep you safe.” She smiles sadly at him as he wipes tears from her cheek. “I couldn’t let him hurt you or Jack. I couldn’t let that happen.”
He shushes her, pulling her back into him as he runs his hand through her hair. “We have time to talk about all of that.” He reassures her, a tightness to his voice that tells her there is still some anger there, some frustration that she hadn’t gone to him. 
“Yeah,” she replies, “we have time.” She looks at him, questioning whether she should say what's on her mind, what she’s been thinking of for months, but she decides to say it anyway. Secrets had already done them enough damage. “I have the ring.” 
The hand in her hair comes to a brief stop, his hold on her slightly tighter. “You do?”
“I do.” She nods and sits up, her hand on his chest as she supports herself against him. “JJ gave it to me when she took me to Paris, said you wanted me to have it.” 
“I told her to put it in your casket with you.” He says, and it makes her sigh sadly, her chest tight with grief. “She wouldn’t let me see you. I asked. Repeatedly.” He clears his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in it. “I guess now I know why.” 
She feels the anger rise in her again, threatening to boil over, burn her from the inside out. The thought of him asking to see her body, not understanding why he wasn’t allowed to, devastating her. Her lungs filled with sorrow. She remembers going with him to see Haley’s body at the funeral home. She stayed with Jack out in the hallway as Aaron and Jessica said their goodbyes. She knew it was important to him, and it would take a long time for her to forgive JJ for this, even if deep down she knew it was the right call. 
“I’m so angry with her.” Emily replies, shaking her head. “With Derek.”
“I know sweetheart,” he agrees, the use of the nickname making her heart stutter in her chest, something she had missed in their time apart, “we can deal with it tomorrow.” 
She nods. “Ok.” She leans forward to kiss him, putting everything she felt like she couldn’t say right now into it, relishing in being back with him, even in this fragile state they found themselves in.
She settles back against him, hoping to get the first proper sleep she would have had in months, and feels herself getting soothed to sleep by his fingers trailing up and down her back.
“Aaron?”
“Yes, Em?” 
“When the time comes,” she says gently, “I’ll say yes.” 
He kisses the top of her head and she can feel the smile in it, the first genuine one since they’d be reunited. 
“Good.” He replies, kissing the top of her head again. “When I wake up in the morning, you’ll still be here, right?” He asks, a slight vulnerability to his voice he rarely showed anyone, something she was always proud he allowed her to see. “This won’t have been some ridiculous dream?” 
It lances at her, the pain he must have felt when she was gone. She knows it will take time, a lot of work from both of them, to work through it all. The grief, and the anger. The sadness and the rebuilding of the absolute trust they’d once had. She knows they can do it, knows it’s worth it. That he’s worth it. 
“Not a dream,” she says, snuggling deeping into his side, “I’ll be here.” 
“Love you, sweetheart.” 
She smiles into his t-shirt, seeds of hope landing in her chest for the first time since Sean called her. Waiting to bloom, to grow into their new life together. 
“I love you too.” 
For now, that would be enough. 
-x-
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harryspet · 4 years ago
Text
caged bird | s.rogers, p.parker & b.barnes
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[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!peter parker x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader, polyamory, prison au, noncon/dubcon sex, this plot scenario is very unrealistic but oh well,  reader makes a deal so she can survive, hella manipulation, dominants/submissive, oral sex (male recieving), hella angst, shower sex, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: this is like a really f’d up situation so enjoy :):):) i also wrote this over the span of two weeks so i’m sorry if the pacing is weird and (also x2) this is nowhere near canon
In which you have to make a deal with three devils in order to survive in The Cage.
word count: 4.8k
main masterlist
Your eyelids were heavy though the bright light outside the bus was forcing you awake. Your limbs shackled to the seat, it reminded you that you had lost your freedom so quickly and that you’d probably never have a good night of sleep ever again, “How long?” Your mouth was dry, the heat from the wasteland you were driving through crept through the window. 
“Twenty minutes, princess,” Officer Rumlow looked you over for the millionth time like you were fresh meat ready for the slaughter. His perceptions weren’t far off and that’s what scared you the most. You weren’t cut out for a place like the Cage. 
A week ago you thought this place was fictional, a nightmare tale that was used to scare the new employees. It was still a nightmare but you were now living in it. You thought your heart might explode out of your chest as the facility finally came into view. Five stories of complete concrete surrounded by two, hundred-foot fences and surrounded by a barren wasteland. 
You were the only one on the bus. The Cage rarely received new inmates due to the nature of crimes that the prison was built for. Vigilantes and government traitors. Many used to consider them heroes but they were unregulated and dangerous. That's how they ended up here and, your boss, Alexander Pierce had sold you out to save himself.
“When … W-When am I going to get my phone call?” You asked as the bus entered the gates of the prison, finally stopping at the processing center. 
Rumlow chuckled, walking over to unchain your shackles from the floor of the bus, “Who are you going to call, princess? Mommy and Daddy?” He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you out of your seat and dragging you down the steps of the bus. 
You refused to accept that you had been erased. Your parents probably thought you were only missing, not that you had been wrongly accused of betraying the government and had been thrown into the most dangerous prison in the country. 
“They can’t do this,” You winced as your arm stung, “No trial. No jury. T-This is illegal!”
Rumlow ignored you, and you had to pick up your pace in order to not fall down. Your eyes wandered around, the sun nearly blinding you and stinging your skin at the same time. You noticed in the distance a group of male inmates standing behind a wired fence, wearing the same navy jumpsuit as you, and even from far away, you could see cold and hungry glances. 
You thought you were lucky for a minute since you were a woman but then you remembered what kind of women probably lived here. As you were brought inside, past several guards, through metal detectors and pat-downs. 
When you got to the body cavity search, you expected to part way with Rumlow. Standing in a small, cold room, Rumlow stood in the doorway with his hands casually in the pockets of his pants, “Undress, inmate,” Your eyes widened and you quickly crossed your arms, “Slowly, if you don’t mind.”
“I-I do mind,” You said quickly, “I’m supposed to have a female officer-”
“You don’t get those kinds of privileges in the Cage. We don’t separate inmates by gender,” You shook your head as your eyebrows began to furrow. 
“That’s insane-”
“Undress, inmate,” He said more sternly this time, “Or would you like me to do it for you? You’re lucky I don’t make you put on a show for the rest of the guards.”
You shook your head again, tears starting to form in your tired eyes, “Please don’t-” You tried to plead with him but, as you did, you watched him reach for his baton, “Okay, okay!”
Rumlow smiled a wicked smile, “Good. Bend over and cough, inmate. Let me see that cute, little ass of yours.”
+
When you finally got to see a female officer, she was escorting you to your cell. In your hands, you held the rest of your life which included one more set of clothes, bedding, and a toothbrush. You had to eat what the prison provided and you could only earn extra commissary from working. Hela tried to explain everything to you but you were only latching onto every other world. 
You walked along a slim passageway which had cells to the right and a metal railing to the left. There were three floors of cells and they seemed to go all the way around in a circle. Passed the railing and in the middle of the dome was where it seemed most of the inmates were gathered. 
The shouting, laughing, and fighting echoed through the dome and you couldn’t help but think those calls were for you. You could barely carry your bag of things and walk straight without stumbling. If they couldn’t send your weakness from your appearance then they’d surely sniff it out soon. 
“This can’t be allowed,” You whispered to Officer Hela, though her dark hair mixed with the look of death in her eyes didn’t scream “empathy” to you, “There has to be some sort of rule-”
She stopped in front of an empty, six by eight-foot cell which told you that this would be your new home, “You can sit in solitary if you like,” She spoke coldly, “Your meals get brought to you and you don’t have to deal with the animals in here but there’s no time outside. It’s easy to lose track of the days and forget which voices are real and which ones are inside your head. If you prefer to go insane before you die then I’d recommend that route.”
There wasn’t much of a choice to make and you found your feet moving before your brain could register. You stepped inside the cell, setting down your things on the bottom bunk, “A girl like you is going to need to latch onto a group, pledge your allegiance, and do not let them question your loyalty. They live by a different code here and following it is life or death, do you understand?”
You slowly nodded as you listened and part of you was grateful that she wasn’t completely cold, “T-Thank you-”
She scoffed, “Such a precious little thing … I give you a week,” With that, she turned on her heel and you felt hopeless once again, “I’ll escort you to dinner-”
You shook your head, “I’m not hungry.” You were actually starving but you could not yet face the beast. 
She only shrugged and pulled the door closed. The light above you flickered and you stared back down at your bunk. You were holding back your tears as you tried to make up your bed. Staring at the flimsy mattress material only made you more depressed so you decided just to lay down. Facing the wall, your tired eyes roamed over what was scribbled on the walls. 
S.H.I.E.L.D. is evil. 
S.H.I.E.L.D. is corrupt. 
You hated that the words initially sent a wave of anger through you. You hated that you still felt loyal to that group of monsters. You were a low level worker with good standing and they had just sent you to die?
With your face tucked into your arm, you cried yourself to sleep. 
+
The next day you had no choice but to face your fears. You couldn’t go any longer without food and, in a place like this, you needed to keep your energy up. Before the sun was even out, you heard the mechanical click of the cell door. Your favorite officer, Rumlow, made sure to stop by your cell during roll call. 
“So you decided on general population,” He popped the gum he was chewing, looking you over, “I’m sad to hear it, I was gonna visit you every day in solitary but I guess we’ll get some alone time soon enough.”
You scowled at him and a shiver went through you as he continued pass your cell. You were now grateful that you had chosen general population. 
That feeling didn’t last as inmates started moving from their cells down to breakfast. You stayed back, waiting to slip out of your cell when the crowd had passed. You lingered in the back of the line but no one seemed to notice you until you were in the kitchen line. The first reaction was a quiet murmur that went through the group of (mostly) men at the sight of you. 
You didn’t quite match anyone's stature, not even the women. At least they looked like they could take care of themselves. You were sure that your face probably had dark circles and sunken in features. You looked down when you felt someone's eyes on you and you cringed at every word whispered about you. 
“If I could just get my hands on her …”
“I wonder what a little girl like that could’ve done to get in here.”
“I’d be real gentle with her …” “I wouldn’t … I’d make her scream …”
“Move along,” Hela barked at the inmates in the line. You tried to tune them out as a staff member handed you your tray of food. A stale piece of toast, plastic-looking eggs, peaches, and what looked like could be oatmeal. 
It was when you turned away that you felt a pinch on your bottom. You turned around quickly only to find yourself staring at a chest rather than a face. As you looked up, a man with long, dark black hair stared down at you, “Aren’t you adorable?”
“I said move along, inmates,” You looked towards Hela for some sort of help but didn’t receive any. 
When you looked back again, the man had disappeared. You shook it off, figuring that was the least of what you were about to experience today. As you stepped out into the middle of the dome, you remembered the advice that Hela had managed to give you. 
There were cliques formed at each circular, metal table and you looked each one over as you walked past them. Again, people stared and said vile things but you spotted a table where two women were sitting. They were much older than you but the look you got from them was not maternal in the least. 
“Can I… sit here?” You knew the answer based on their thin-lipped scowls. 
You weren’t like any of them … you were fragile. Besides that, you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the organization was responsible for locking half of these people away. You kept walking, eventually finding an empty table to sit at. 
All you could think about now was eating. You picked at your tray with your plastic fork, and with each bite of the food you cringed. The toast was also completely rock hard, “It helps if you dip it in water,” Your head snapped up as you felt a shadow over you before someone took a seat beside you. 
You weren’t expecting someone so young and you certainly weren’t expecting a friendly smile. You stared at the handsome man with your mouth agape. You hadn’t realized what he meant until you looked back down at the bread in your hands, “Oh … I doubt anything would make this edible-”
He ran his hand through his light brown hair, before reaching into the pocket of his jumpsuit. On the table in front of you, he placed a twinkie. The entire room seemed to go quiet for a moment and you realized that everyone was watching the two of you. 
“I can’t accept this …”
“Of course you can, it’s no big deal,” His brown eyes pierced into yours as he shrugged, “I’m Peter.”
The sugary, process food was calling your name but you still weren’t sure what his deal was, “T-Thank you,” Not wanting to come off rude, you accepted it, unknowingly beginning to seal your fate, “I’m … I’m-”
“Y/N Y/LN,” He finished for you which left your eyes wide with shock, “You’re already famous. The guards like to gossip and it’s rare we get new inmates so people get curious.”
“Oh,” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 
“Don’t worry, some people in here care about your charges, how you got here, but not me,” He tried to reassure you, a smile tugging at his lips, “S.H.I.E.L.D. screwed us all and I don’t think there’s a point in playing who’s the better bad guy.”
You looked around. Now that you knew that people knew your charges and your history, you were starting to feel unsettled. The only thing keeping you grounded was him reassuring you that he didn’t care, “How long-” Your voice came out in a whisper, “How long have you been here?”
Peter took a breath as he thought for a moment, “Few years. Now I kinda forget that I was a normal teenager when this all started.”
Years. And he was a teenager when they brought him here? Did they have no limits to their cruelty?
“God,” You breathed out, overwhelmed, “I don’t think I can … do this-”
Peter reached out, placing a calm hand on your arm, “Hey, hey, you have to survive here. Whether you were meant to be here or not, you have to live like this is your reality. Looking like you’re about to vomit is not a good look to everyone else. I saw Loki over there … he’s an asshole touching you like that  but it’s because he’s already sniffed you out.”
You nodded, trying to stay calm, “But I don’t know how to look … to look less weak.”
“For one, you’re going to have to start eating more and building some muscle,” You could tell by his grip on your arm that he was quite strong, “And the next time someone disrespects you, you have to stand up for yourself. You also can’t just bark like a little chihuahua. Maybe you could pick someone out, someone that you could win in a fight against.”
As Peter started to scan the room, you immediately started shaking your hand, “I can’t just attack someone,” You whisper-shouted, your eyes wide with worry. 
Peter chuckled, “Not with that attitude. Maybe you could go for Heather over there,” He eyed a woman who was practically elderly, “She has a cane so even you could probably overpower though I’ve seen here use the thing as a weapon a few times-”
“Peter,” You spoke sharply, “There has to be another way.”
Peter looked into your eyes and you lost hope for a moment until he seemed to perk up, “I have some friends, we kind of run together in this place, looking out for each other,” Peter explained and you listened intently, hoping for a means of survival that didn’t require attacking an old lady, “I could probably convince them to start looking out for you too. But it won’t be easy, we take loyalty very seriously here, and it wouldn’t be without a cost to you.”
“What sort of cost?”
Peter shrugged, “Could be lots of things. They serve plums on Friday and Bucky loves those so maybe you’d show your support to the group by giving him yours. Something like that,” You followed Peter’s finger as he pointed two men out, one with dark hair and the other with light. Both were built like bodybuilders, “Steve’s a respected leader here and maybe you could help run messages for him.” 
You nodded, “T-That sounds fair,” You paused for a moment as the men eyed you, “And for the twinkie? What do you want?”
“Now you’re starting to get it,” Peter grinned, “Eat it and that means you accept our claim. You’re one of us.”
“Can’t I have time to think about it?” 
Peter seemed to hesitate for the first time, “I’m sure you won’t get a better offer,” Your face fell, “But sure. I’d be quick about it though. Those big, doe eyes aren’t going to work on everybody.”
+
The dark-haired one was following you. Loki, Peter called him, hadn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you parted ways with Peter yesterday. He and his greek god, blonde friend were now walking behind you as you made your way through the halls. They were pushing mop buckets, evidently taking a break from their cleaning duty. 
You had gotten lost trying to find the hospital wing and now you were paying the consequences. 
“Little bird … caged and unprotected,” He taunted you and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to keep from looking back,  “Not even the guards want to save her. Poor thing.”
“It seems she’s in need of protecting, brother.”
“Protecting? If I got my hands on her, the last thing I’d think of is being gentle-”
You turned into the first room you passed, expecting to find somewhere to hide but you only seemed to encounter more people. It was the TV room, a staticy old television airing a baseball game was hanging in the corner of the room, and a bunch of men were sitting at different tables. 
They all turned their heads to you as you interrupted and you immediately recognized the two men from Peter’s loyal “group”. Bucky and Steve. Your heart was out of your chest at the point and you found yourself whispering a “sorry” before turning back towards the door. Loki and his brother, however, were waiting patiently. 
Loki leaned in the doorway, eyeing you like you were fresh meat. 
“Is this jackass bothering you, hon?” Your eyes wide with fear, you quickly realized that it wasn’t Loki taunting you. The dark-haired man’s, you remembered Peter calling him Bucky, voice boomed through the room.
You froze.
“Don’t you have toilets to scrub, Laufeyson?” The light hair man with a thick beard spoke, and by the look on his face you could tell he was a man of power. Not so much power-hungry but someone that demanded respect and often received it. 
Loki scoffed, looking over you again, “As far as I know, this one is free territory.”
“Well, this room is my territory and guess where she happens to be standing,” Loki’s jaw clenched at Steve’s words. 
“C’mere, hon,” Bucky spoke to you, signaling to cross the room. She hesitated but only for a moment as you realized your choices were Peter’s friends or letting Loki, have you. You crossed the room cautiously towards them, everyone now looking at you. You paused awkwardly in front of the table but a small yelp left your lip as Bucky grabbed you by the arm, spinning you into his lap. 
“See,” Steve said as you uncomfortably tried your best not to squirm, “Don’t touch things that aren’t yours, Laufeyson.”
You felt a hand clench your thigh and cringed.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
As soon as Loki stormed away, you stood up, brushing whatever wrinkles had formed in your jumpsuit. Amused, Bucky smiled at you, “You could at least thank us,” Bucky leaned forward and you tried not to scowl. 
“Thank you,” You whispered. 
“Good girl,” Bucky smirked. 
“Lang, get Y/N a chair,” Steve ordered another man in the room. He was quick to obey the command and, even though you were in a new place, you felt you’d been transported into an entirely new planet. 
“You don’t have to-”
“Sit,” Steve said as the chair was placed beside you, “You can leave when you give us an answer to the offer Peter mentioned yesterday.”
You had thought long and hard about Peter’s offer and decided last night that you wanted to reject it. It wasn’t until now that you realized your decision was a mistake. There was no telling when you’d be getting out of this place, Peter had been here for years, and it seemed you were already a target. 
You’d even heard a rumor that the guards placed bets on how long you’d survive in here. 
“Yes …” You nodded your head, “That’s my answer.”
Steve's lips pulled into a small grin as he eyed his friend across the table, “Good choice, doll.”
+
A week later and you were still alive and relatively untouched. Bucky was quite handsy but Peter reminded you that it was just protocol. Everyone had to know that you were a part of their group and that, if you were harmed, they’d have to deal with Steve and his minions. 
Like Peter said, there were quite a few sacrifices you had to make. Your new job in the kitchen allowed you to provide the group with all the food they wanted and when you weren’t working, you were running errands for Steve. You got an idea of all the inmate leaders and how they functioned as a society. 
Steve seemed to be at the very top and you realized the possible consequences of crossing someone like him. Still, you felt more pampered than like you were a part of some elaborate prison gang. Most of your wishes were theirs to grant. 
They let you watch whatever you wanted in the TV room. Bucky always called you pet names that you were starting to grow fond of. Steve had some pull with the guards so Rumlow was never around to bother you anymore. Peter even found you a set of paints to occupy your time in your cell. As long as you followed them around like their cute little puppy, they were quite nice to you. 
“C’mon, run a lap with me. You gotta build your strength,” Peter asked you, his face sweaty and shining under the baking sun. He was shirtless, the shirtsleeves of his uniform wrapped around his waist, and his magnificent physique was on display just like Steve and Bucky’s. During rec time in the courtyard, you’d become accustomed to standing by the fence and watching them lift weights. 
“I’m good, thanks,” You smiled awkwardly, “I get tired just from watching you guys.”
“Peter’s right,” Steve let out a breath as he dropped his hundred-pound dumbbell.
“I just …” Your voice trailed off as Steve eyed you with his strong gaze. You knew that what he said goes but you were growing nervous, “I don’t want to get sweaty.”
“You’re serious?” Bucky chimed in, a curious look on his face. 
“Is that like a girl thing I don’t know about?” Peter flashed you an amused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. 
“Y/N?” Steve could see that you were hiding something.
You crossed your arms, sighing, “I just don’t want to have to shower, okay?”
“You haven’t showered since you’ve been here?” Peter asked incredulously. 
“I have!” You quickly defended yourself, “I mean, I’ve just been using the sink in my cell.”
“I see what this is about,” Bucky had a knowing look on his face, “Dollface is scared of the communal showers.”
Peter’s mouth formed the shape of an “o” as he realized what was going on. You still felt so embarrassed. It was yet another thing that made you seem totally defenseless. 
“Is that true?” Steve asked and you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by their concerned gazes, “Why didn’t you tell us? Next time, one of us will keep watch for you. No one’s gonna bother you.”
Maybe it was the isolation or the fact that your life would never be the same again. Maybe it was the fact that you’d never see your family again or that you cried yourself to sleep every night. That might be the reason you felt that they genuinely cared for you and why you wanted to fully embrace the comfort that they were providing. 
Maybe that was why you wanted to belong to them. 
+
For the first time, you were reminded of your old life. You weren’t sure how long you’d lost yourself under the water, letting time get away from you, as the warm water cascaded along your skin. The showers had a sorry excuse for water pressure and, despite the creepiness of the beige tiles and flickering light above, when you closed your eyes you were in paradise. 
“All clean, beautiful?” Bucky’s voice brought you out of your trance. Suddenly you were back in the square room with showerheads lining each wall. You wiped the water from your eyes before turning off the water. 
“Y-Yes, I’m almost done!” You shouted back, grabbing your towel from off the hook. You pressed it to your face, drying your skin. You were quite grateful that they’d taken the extra steps to make you feel protected, “Bucky-”
As you turned around, that feeling of gratitude quickly turned to something resembling fear. He was supposed to wait for you outside the bathroom and yet, there he was, only three feet away from you. 
“What are you-”
He looked over you hungrily and you pressed your towel closer to your body, “You have no idea how long it's been since I’ve been with a beautiful woman like you … Steve too. And Peter, he’s just learning the ropes.”
You took a step back, towards the wall, and as you did you caught a glimpse behind Bucky’s towering figure. Both Steve and Peter were here, stalking closer. 
“You said you’d protect me…” Your voice cracked, your hands beginning to shake. 
“We will,” Steve spoke, determined, “No one else but us will touch you.”
“Nothing in here is without a cost, Y/N,” Peter seemed a bit solemn like his current life was not what he wanted it to be but he was just as hungry, if not more, as Bucky. 
Bucky grabbed you then, his eyes impatient, and you wrestled for your towel for only a moment before he easily snatched it away from you. A helpless squeal left your mouth as he grabbed you by the arm with one hand and placed his other hand between your legs. He grabbed your thigh tightly and as his hand moved further up, you found yourself paralyzed. 
“Good girl. You’re going to take all of us,” Bucky spoke quietly, shushing you, his grip growing tighter and tighter. Before you knew it, all three of them were surrounding you, their curious hands wandering over your wet skin. Grabbing your breast, your thighs, turning your face to bite at your neck. 
“Get on your knees,” Steve grunted against your ear, growing impatient like his friend. 
When you didn’t move, Peter was the one to push you down onto the cold floor. You hiccuped, trying not to hyperventilate as they overwhelmed you from each side. As they all started to pull down their clothes, you made one final attempt at trying to crawl away. 
Steve grabbed you by your throat, making your efforts futile, pushing your face towards his crotch. You felt it, hard and throbbing against your cheek, “Open up, don’t make this hard, doll,” Through the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky stroking his own length, waiting patiently for his turn. 
Steve grabbed you by your hair next, pressing your closed lips against his tip. He forced himself in your mouth, “There you go,” Steve grunted, pushing himself deeper, “Move that tongue around.”
Steve Rogers could make your life a living hell in the Cage. Was this really the price you had to pay in order to survive here? You couldn’t imagine it being any worse than this but Steve could make that possible. That’s why you started to swirl your tongue like he said, deciding that their orgasms would end your pain. 
Bucky was much rougher than Steve, pinching your nose closed and enjoying watching your eyes widen and water. He practically touched the back of your throat and still commanded you to stroke Peter and Steve’s cocks with your hands while you took him in your mouth. Somehow, you managed. 
Peter was much more gentle and you were grateful for that. His hands rested softly on the back of your head, guiding your mouth slowly up and down his length, “God, this is awesome,” He cursed, his head tilting back as he enjoyed the stimulation. When he finally finished, his warmth filled your mouth and before you could spit or catch your breath, Bucky grabbed you again. 
He came so far down your throat that you were forced to swallow it but, unlike him, Steve took his time, “This little mouth. Is ours. Every single hole. Is ours. No one else, do you understand?” With each sentence, he thrust hard until he filled your mouth. You leaned over, coughing as you felt the stinging of your sore throat. 
You were about to collapse onto the dirty cold floor when gentle arms lifted you up into a broad chest. You found yourself not fighting, only pressing your face into Bucky’s chest as you began to sob. 
Steve didn’t have to say anything more. You understand your new position and there wasn’t anyone else there to save you from that fate. 
That night you learned there was a change to your cell assignment. You’d sleep in Steve’s arms, a little bird that was safe and protected in it’s cage. 
+
hope you enjoyed!! i’m posting this instead of sleeping because I have class in this morning :) 
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babyboibucky · 4 years ago
Text
Birthday Tiara
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You weren’t enjoying your birthday until Bucky comes along.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: SMUUUT, oral (m receiving), p in v penetration, unprotected sex
A/N: This is dedicated to our birthday girl @whoth3hellisbucky 🥰 I’m so happy and flattered that you sent me this request!!! I wrote and finished this piece as soon as I got your request lmao that’s how excited I was. I really hope you’d enjoy this!!! Happy Birthday and have a great one, lovely!!! 😘
MAIN MASTERLIST
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How in the fresh hell did you end up being in someone else’s birthday party during your own birthday? You have no idea in all honesty. Was it fun? Yeah sure, free unli-booze for you and your friends.
Were you having fun though? Not really.
This was supposed to be your day, and initially it was. You’d taken your girl friends out to dinner, did some pre-gaming at a nice bar and then went from one club to another. Everything was peachy and going as planned until one of your friends saw her co-worker who happened to be on her way to another friend’s house for a party.
One thing led to another and now you were here, in a stranger’s house and all by yourself because your so-called friends were too drunk to even remember why all of you were out together in the first place.
“Best birthday ever.” You harrumphed sarcastically as you stepped out into the backyard.
You shivered at the cold wind that welcomed you and wrapped your arms around yourself. Letting out a melancholic sigh, you began to kick at the ground in disappointment at how the night went.
Looking up, you found yourself staring into a pair of ocean blue eyes. You didn’t know whether you had looked at each other at the same time or if he had been watching you ever since.
He was standing a few meters away from you, with two other ladies who were chatting with each other. The man was tall and handsome, you could see that even in the dark. Brunette locks and a five day old stubble, donning a jacket with a wool collar— very, very handsome.
As if his physical appearance wasn’t attention-grabbing enough, he even had a plastic tiara on his head and you have no idea why.
The two of you continued eye fucking each other but neither of you decided to make any move. Despite the guy engaging in a conversation with the girls, his eyes kept going back to yours. You smirked when he winked at you before taking a long sip from his drink.
His eyes were glued onto you even as he brought a blunt up to his lips, taking a quick drag from it before handing it over to the girl in front of him.
And then he made a face at you, his hands gesturing as if he was telling you what the fuck are these girls even talking about?
You chuckled at his face and shook your head. Deciding that maybe, it was time to go home, you waved at the guy and walked away.
“I was asking you to come and rescue me out there, not leave me behind.”
Turning around, you found that the guy was already standing in front of you. Now that he was closer, you realized how tall and well-built he was. Your eyes automatically scanned him, from his wide chest down to his—
“Bucky.” He said, interrupting your thoughts.
“Bucky?” You repeated in question.
He nodded, “That’s my name. And you are?”
You eyed him suspiciously, trying to read his expression but he was just smiling at you and waiting for an introduction. You told him your name and shook his hand before the both of you started walking around aimlessly.
“What brought you here?” Bucky asked, hands inside the pockets of his jeans.
You shrugged, “Beats me. You?”
He mimicked your gesture, “Got dragged by a friend and now I can’t find him.”
You snorted, “Tell me about it. I was out with my friends to celebrate my birthday and now I’m alone.”
Bucky stopped in his tracks and tugged you back, his hand around your arm sending shivers down your spine.
“Hold on, it’s your birthday?” He asked with amusement. “As in today?”
You nodded, “Yup.”
Bucky licked his lips as he stared down at you, “You got a couple hours left to make the most out of it.”
You bit your lip, knowing exactly how you want to make the most out of it. Bucky was an attractive guy, you weren’t going to deny that. And he seemed to be insinuating at something too and honestly, you were up for it.
You were pissed off at your friends for ditching you for someone else’s party. At this point, you’d do anything to turn the tables around and make your birthday memorable at the last minute.
“Have any suggestions on how I can do that?” You asked, looking up at him through your lashes.
Bucky smirked, taking off his tiara and then placing it on your head.
“I’ve some things in mind that I can show you, princess.”
-
Bucky had you pinned against the door of whoever’s bedroom it was that the both of you first stumbled in. His lips were bruising yours as he kissed you fervently, hands wandering all over your body, cupping, squeezing whatever he can.
“Whose room is this?” You panted against Bucky’s lips as you pushed his jacket off his broad shoulders.
Bucky licked your lips and then began kissing his way from your jaw down to your collarbones, “No fuckin’ idea and I don’t care.” He huffed against your skin, tugging at the straps of your dress.
Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his top, almost popping them off with urgency when you felt a hand brush your folds through the thin material of your lace underwear.
“Shit, wet already.” Bucky grunted before grabbing the hem of your panties, pulling it down your legs.
Finally, you managed to completely remove Bucky’s shirt, revealing his more than average body beneath all his clothing.
“Fuck, happy birthday to me.” You moaned before pushing Bucky towards the bed, climbing over him and straddling him.
Bucky groaned when you sat on him, your bare cunt pressed against his clothed erection. He watched you with lust-filled eyes as you reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it off and then throwing it aside. He chuckled when you fixed the tiara on your head, straightening it up.
Bucky’s hand slid from your thighs up to your waist, his rough palms leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reached your breasts. He cupped them before he unclasped your bra behind you, revealing your entire body to him.
He sat up and licked a nipple, eliciting a breathy moan from you as your hips began to grind against the rough material of his jeans.
“Fuck, baby. You messed up my jeans.” He chuckled, noticing the damp spot on his crotch.
You couldn’t care less anymore, you needed Bucky right now. You wanted to feel him against you, inside of you. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system or the sheer disappointment how your birthday went down, but you were desperate to get laid.
Bucky sucked your other nipple, his tongue laving at it playfully as your hands grabbed at his fluffy hair.
You moaned out his name when he pulled away, laying back down but leaving his hands on top of your thighs.
“Come get your present, birthday girl.” He rasped, head tipping towards the impressive tent on his pants.
You practically purred and wasted no time to unzip him, quickly pulling his pants down together with his black boxer briefs. His cock sprang free, slapping against his abs and you salivated at the sight of it— hard, red and weeping.
Taking his shaft in your hand, you bent down and licked a thick stripe from his balls up until the tip, tongue twirling around his crown earning a low groan from him.
“I’m not even sure if it’s still your birthday we’re celebrating or mine.” Bucky quipped breathlessly when you repeated the action.
You took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it and letting your tongue flick against his slit while your hand began to give him slow but firm strokes. Bucky lifted his head up to watch you, hands framing your face before he decided to fix the tiara that was still tangled into your hair.
“Look at you, baby. Lookin’ like a dirty little princess with my cock in her pretty mouth.” He grunted, moving his hips to get more of his cock into your mouth.
You hummed around Bucky’s length, relaxing your jaw as you tried to take all of him. He was too big and girthy but god, he tasted magnificent. Even without touching yourself, you could feel your wetness gush out of your throbbing cunt.
The kind of throb that needed to be addressed as soon as possible.
Bobbing your head, you squeezed Bucky’s balls making his hips thrust upwards before you released him with a lewd pop.
“Wanna fuck you now, princess. Come here.” Bucky said and took your face in his hands when you climbed back up, pulling you down into an urgent kiss.
You whimpered into the kiss when you felt Bucky line his cock into your entrance, pushing his hips upwards until the head was in. Straightening up, you placed your hands on his chest and carefully sunk down on his length.
Both of you moaned in unison when he bottomed out, the heat in your abdomen growing and growing until you felt like your entire body was on fire.
“Go on, princess. I’m all yours, take what you need.” Bucky urged, holding onto your hips and guiding you to grind down on his cock.
The slow, deliberate roll of your hips against Bucky’s turned desperate, with you moaning out his name as you bounced on his erection. You watched Bucky throw his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he growled at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around his cock.
You grabbed one hand on your hips and brought it up to your breast, letting him fondle it as you rode Bucky. He let the pad of his thumb brush against your nipple before pinching down on it, making you cry out in pleasure.
“Bucky, fuck! I’m close...” you whimpered, legs burning but never stopping as you chased your high.
Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to him before rolling over until he was on top. His hips pummeled into you hard and fast, lips attaching onto your own and swallowing your whines.
“Cum for me, princess. Come on.” Bucky growled against your lips.
A certain snap of his hips allowed his cock to hit your sweet spot, sending you into a spiral of pleasure. Your body went rigid as you climaxed, your toes curling and your fingers digging deep into Bucky’s ass as your pussy clenched around him.
Bucky kept on thrusting, his breaths mingling with yours until he too came with a low grunt. You hummed at the feeling of his warm release filling you up.
“Fuck.” Bucky breathed out, his body going limp against yours.
You stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, catching up on your breath before you let out a chirpy chuckle.
“I feel bad for the person who owns this room.” You admitted.
Bucky pressed a gentle kiss on the side of your throat before lifting himself up with his forearms.
“I don’t.” He said before leaning down to kiss your lips.
“Happy birthday, princess.” He greeted again before removing the tiara on your head.
“Like I said, I had a couple of ideas on how you can make the most out of your birthday. We just checked the first one on the list.”
You made a face, unable to believe that Bucky wasn’t done with you yet. Before you could even protest, Bucky beat you to it by flicking his tongue against your clit.
“Lay down and let me show you how a princess should be treated.”
-
Everything Bucky Tag List:
@ddowii​ @jessou893​ @stealapizzamyheart​ @bagelofthelord​ @mxnt​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​ @ohladymacbeth​ @wildflowergubler​ @supraveng​ @twinerd14​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​ @charminivy​ @amelia-song-pond​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​ @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine​ @sipsteacasually​ @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​​ @unmagically​​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​​ @reidbuck​​ @lizzarooni @girlfriday007​​​​​ @bonkywobble​​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​
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fairyoftbz · 3 years ago
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childish fear | l. juyeon
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⚔ pairing: stranger!juyeon x single mom! fem! reader ⚔ genre: fluff ⚔ wc : 3.2k ⚔ tw: none ⚔ a/n: im so sorry it's been so long but my work keeps me super busy and i hate my unposted fics that i wrote in the past, hence my absence. i promise to come back here asap!! <33 ⚔ requested: no
╰☆☆☆☆╮
“Mommy, where are we going?” your daughter asked for the nth time as you guided her foot by the ankle in her shoe. Her tiny hand leant on your shoulder while you fastened the Velcro straps and zipped up her jacket, walking out of your apartment to the corridor of your floor. She watched you locked the front door and sliding the keys in your handbag before grabbing her hand to the elevator.
“As I’ve told you, we’re heading to a coffee shop to see Uncle Kevin and Jinseon, remember?” she clapped in her hands as if she just learnt the news, despite her asking this question over five times since she woke up. You forgave her because she was at the age where she would find everything fascinating and barely pay attention to what you said. You chuckled and shook your head with a smile as her curious eyes observed the elevator, touching the mirror and gasping at the coldness of it under her palm. It was almost guaranteed that she didn’t listen and will ask again in a couple of minutes.
“Where are we going?” here we go again, her tiny voice reaching your ear above the roaring motor of the bus. She grabbed your leg as you were typing something on your phone with one hand, the other gripping the metallic bar as tight as possible as your daughter was not the most balanced child.
“Baby, I’ve told you many times that we are going to see Kevin and Jinseon at the coffee shop because Mommy and Uncle Kevin have to do something for work,” you looked at her with stern eyes, something you always did when she wasn’t paying attention.
“But why aren’t we going to their house? It’s so big!” she argued, and the bus doors opened, quickly sliding your phone in your back pocket and jumped out of the bus with your daughter in your arms.
“Uncle Kevin wants to change the interior of the house, so people work there, and it’s not safe for them and us to meet there. But I promise that we’ll go back there soon!”
“I won’t be able to draw with Jinseon?” you shook your head from side to side, and your daughter pouted, nuzzling her face in your neck.
“Not at his house, but maybe he brought a colouring book like yours today!” you exclaimed, and her mood lifted instantly, getting all giddy and happy to share her passion with her best friend.
Pushing the door of the coffee shop, you were instantly met with a reassuring warmth and the good smell of coffee, placing your daughter back on the ground as you lined up to order. The place was quite busy, but you were right before the time people were fighting to get a table.
“Mommy, this table!” she asked and pointed her little finger towards a table near the window, her little topknot moving on her head as she looked up at you.
“Good choice, baby,” you said, and she grabbed your hand again, noticing her gaze shifting to something scared. You frowned as she went to stand in front of you, her hands gripping your thighs as she stared up at you.
You asked for your usual order and a strawberry smoothie for your daughter, who happily giggled when she saw the sliced fruit inside of her transparent cup. She laughed and ran to the table you had agreed on occupying, her little hands pressed on the seat as she hoisted herself alone on it.
A few minutes after giving your daughter her pens and colouring books, your phone rang in your back pocket, getting you out of your bubble of focus as you stopped typing.
“Hello?” you said, and your best friend’s voice reached your ear.
“Hi Y/N, I’m really sorry to warn you only now, but I won’t be able to make it with Jinseon.” A wave of disappointment flooded your heart, but you didn’t raise it.
“Oh my. Did something happen?” you asked as your daughter was too busy colouring a monkey pink to even hear what you were talking about.
“Thankfully no, I uhm… I forgot that my in-laws invited us to a five-star restaurant today,” he said, and you bitterly chuckled, feeling sorry for him as you knew the exhausting relationship he had with them.
“Sounds fun,” you sarcastically said as you heard him sigh on the other side of the phone, “don’t worry, we can always meet up another time.”
“Won’t Chunae be disappointed?” Kevin asked, and you emitted a laugh, quickly looking to the side as someone at the table next to yours drew a chair.
“I’ll handle her, don’t worry about it. Have fun with your most favourite people in the world, then!” you sarcastically said, and you heard him sigh.
“Thanks, but I’d rather die than witnessing my mother-in-law brag again about the new diamond necklace she bought and lie on how she’s not close to bankrupting,” you giggled and winked at your daughter, amused by the situation. That was what you got to have your stepson handling the family accounts and his best friend as an assistant counsellor. You both could see her lie to everyone, and it was funny.
“Try to make her understand that you know she’s lying in front of everyone else and see how she reacts,” you suggested and heard him gasp at your words.
“I beg you Y/N, can you please schedule us an appointment so I can ruin her?”
“Of course,” you opened another tab on your computer, typing and clicking on a few things to finally get to your best friend’s schedule.
“You can tell her that she can come on Friday at 1 pm to discuss about her financial state. I just sent her an email,” you announced, and Kevin sighed, imagining him biting his lower lip and clutch his fist in satisfaction.
“You’re the best. I gotta go now,” you took a sip of your drink and wished him good luck before hanging up.
“M-Mommy?” you heard your daughter whisper, barely making out her words as the coffee shop music and the hustling was quite loud. You smiled, but it immediately vanished as you saw her scared state, pen lingering on the pages of her colouring book. Her eyes were drawn to the table next to yours, her mouth trembling from time to time, close to crying.
Following her gaze, you noticed a man around your age and immediately understood your daughter’s fear as you took in the sight. The man was scrolling on his phone, his white t-shirt hugging his broad shoulders and slender torso perfectly. His biceps flexed each time he swiped up his finger on the screen or took a sip of coffee, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. You weren’t going to lie that he was super handsome, but something else couldn’t go unnoticed in your eyes.
His tattoos.
He was covered in them. Your eyes could scarcely spot some natural, intact skin. Arms, forearms, chest and neck, only his face remained untouched. His jet-black hair was as dark as his eyes, yet they still held something soft and human in them. A thin nose with plumped, pinkish lips, it would have been almost impossible for you to guess that he had tattoos all over his body if you only saw his face.
You found him quite attractive to say the least, but it was quite the opposite for your daughter. She found tattoos terrifying, only accepting the small, hidden ones Kevin had. Her eyes welled up with tears, and you gently called her name, gesturing her to come closer. She jumped out of her seat, carefully going around the table from the opposite side where the man was sitting and walked towards you.
“Baby, those are just tattoos. You see what you draw and colour in your books with Jinseon? This man decided to do it on his skin because he likes drawings too!” you explained gently as your daughter couldn’t tear her gaze off the man.
“But it’s scary,” she mumbled, and you shook your head, gently cradling her cheek.
“Do you find the drawings on Uncle Kevin’s skin scary?” you asked, and she disagreed, finally looking up at you.
“It’s the same for him. Like Uncle Kevin, he decided to get them on his skin because he likes the shapes and colours. Do you understand?” you smiled as she wiped her teary eyes, nodding, trying to look confident. But you knew your daughter, she was still scared.
“Do you want to switch seats with Mommy?”
“No,” she said in a frail voice, and you kissed her cheek while rubbing her back. It was always the same. Bizarrely, when she feared something, she wanted to stay close to it as if she was determined of getting over her irrational fear.
Chunae walked back on her seat and resumed colouring, her gaze looking to her left from time to time. You smiled and stared at your computer again, getting distracted by the man as well, but not for the same reasons as your daughter.
“You’re a mother Y/N, don’t let those stupid thoughts get inside your head,” you closed your eyes and mentally slapped yourself, heavily sighing as you answered some emails, focusing back on your work.
You were so concentrated on your tasks that you didn’t even notice what was happening in front of you. Chunae became terrified as the man caught her staring, his eyes transforming into crescent moons when he softly waved at her. Her eyes widened and started colouring faster, her nose almost touching the paper as if she wanted everything around her to disappear. It happened once, twice, but she remembered what you always told her; never talk to strangers. So when the young man whispered a small ‘hi!’ to her, she panicked and called for you.
“Mommy!” she got you out of your work bubble, and you stared at her from above your computer screen, fingers still typing on the computer. Your hands stopped when you noticed her little forefinger pointing at the man, whose chocolate eyes were quick to shift to yours.
Shit, he was really handsome.
“What is it, sweetpea?” you asked and lowered your computer screen. “I’m sorry for her behaviour, she's not usually like that,” you said, grabbing her hand as you sent an apologetic smile to the man.
He shook his head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it, I get it. She’s still quite young,” you were sized by a shiver when two sets of white, perfectly aligned teeth almost blinded you as his mouth stretched into a bigger smile.
“I’m five!” she said, pouting, crossing her arms on her chest, staring at the table with furrowed brows.
The young man’s eyes widened, and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile as he acknowledged her stubbornness. You puffed and rolled your eyes at her behaviour, noticing with a smirk that she was still glancing at his tattoos.
“What’s your name?” he asked after looking at you, asking for permission. Your daughter’s unsure eyes stared at you, and you nodded, allowing her to talk to him.
“Ch-Chunae,” she answered, and his mouth transformed into a surprised ‘o’, letting out a small gasp.
“That’s a very pretty name, I’m Juyeon,” he said, and your daughter blushed, a veil of shyness appearing in her eyes as he held out his hand for her to shake it. You smiled as he indirectly complimented you for choosing her name, his gaze softening as she timidly grabbed his hand. Her eyes couldn’t help but scrutinise his tattooed hand with attention, making the man smile fondly and brightly.
“I have drawings all over my arms, do you want to see them?” he asked, keeping a great eye on you to see any sign of reluctance. Or maybe it was for something else, but you didn’t need to know about this.
“But they’re scary,” she said, and Juyeon whole-heartedly laughed, drawing the sleeve of his t-shirt to the top of his shoulder.
“Look at this one,” he said as he twisted his biceps, noticing a dragon spitting fire and your daughter’s eyes widened. He then turned his forearm to show her a dolphin near the crook of his elbow, smiling as he watched your daughter’s expression change as she saw all his tattoos on his arms. She was now mesmerised by the tattoos, the gentle, deep voice of the man explaining to her as she stared at his inked arms.
“Do you wanna colour this one?” he asked, finger showing the rose on the back of his hand.
“Really?” Chunae was surprised by his question, and Juyeon smiled at you, your daughter already grabbing her red pen.
“You really don’t have to,” you embarrassingly said, but the man shook his head, resting his large hand in front of your daughter, who pushed all her belongings to the side.
“If that can keep her quiet while you work, I don’t mind,” he stated, and you raised your eyebrows, a grateful smile drawn on your face.
Colouring the red rose ended up inking the poor man’s entire arm, who had a lot of patience and discipline when it came to children. Chunae went over the line with her pen a few times, only to have him reassure and praise her to continue when she started feeling guilty.
“Oh no!” she gasped as her hand clumsily went over the scales of the snake circling his forearm, Juyeon chuckling before wetting his thumb to erase the misdrawn ink. “It’s okay, it’s okay, keep going,” he said in a gentle tone, smiling at your daughter as she was looking for reassurance.
You had told him a few times that he didn’t have to stay the entire day only here to occupy your daughter, but he genuinely was alright with that. He looked almost happy to talk with you and your daughter since you had stopped working a few moments ago to exchange a few words of politeness with him before heading home.
“Chunae, finish your smoothie before we go home,” you said, and she obeyed, nodding as she placed her pen down and started sipping on her drink.
“I’m really sorry for this,” you gestured to his arms, but he was quick to cut you.
“Ma’am, it's okay, please stop apologising, I gave my agreement for her to do this. You seem like busy parents with your husband, I’m glad I could help,” he smiled, and you frowned.
“H-Husband?” you asked and Juyeon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“O-oh? Wasn’t it your husband on the phone?” you shook your head at his words, only to have him purse his lips in utter embarrassment. “Sorry for assuming,” he said, the tip of his ears turning pink just like his cheeks.
“It’s okay, it was my best friend. I’m actually a single mom,” you explained, and he nodded, his features expressing admiration.
“Wow, you must be super strong then,” he said, and you blinked a few times, discerning something sad appearing in his eyes as he stared at your daughter. It was inappropriate and way too intrusive to ask him about his reaction, so you just offered him a grateful smile.
“I have to admit that it’s not always easy being alone in this, but with a bit of discipline and organisation, you can manage to make it work!” you tried to enlighten the mood, and Juyeon laughed along, but his smile had lost its splendour.
He cleared his throat, and you stood up, your daughter being finally done with her smoothie. You helped her place her pens in the pouch before clearing your belongings off the table, Juyeon standing up as well.
“Will I get to colour your tattoos again?” Chunae asked, and you looked at her sternly, but Juyeon laughed and smiled, gently ruffling her hair.
“This only depends on if your Mommy wants to see me again,” Juyeon crouched down to her level and made sure to get her hair out of the way before zipping her light jacket up to the chin.
You were taken aback by his answer, looking at him in the eyes. Vaguely smiling, he stood back up and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, thumbs playing with the belt loops as he waited for your answer. You breathed in heavily as you stared around you but in his eyes, trying to find an excuse.
“I mean… why not?” you eventually said, and his face brightened, his ears going pink at your answer. You grabbed your daughter’s hand as she was about to run to Juyeon and walked to the exit of the coffee shop, not believing what you’ve just agreed to.
Meeting a man? After your ex? With all the work and busy life that you had? Were you crazy?
Juyeon held out the door for you, and you thanked him, your daughter now almost best friend with the man she feared when he appeared. You sighed and replaced your bag on your shoulder, offering a soft smile to the man.
“Is it okay if we wait a bit before all of... this? I have the deadline of a big project that is coming up next week and it has a considerable influence on the future of my career, I really don’t want to mess it up,” you explained, and Juyeon nodded, his hand going to your bag to shove your key ring back inside since it was falling out.
“It’s more than okay, I’ll wait as long as it takes you to finish this and be ready to meet up with me,” he said, and your mouth fell open, surprised by his attitude. The last man you dated and loved unconditionally dropped the family he had created with you for a career abroad and another woman, his words and behaviour offering warmth to your broken, lonely heart.
You got your phone out and took Juyeon’s number, a relieved smile painted on your face. Maybe not all the men were as selfish and nasty as your ex.
“Call me if you need anything. It can be help, someone to look after her, comfort. Whatever you need, I’ll try to help you out as much as I can,” he said and rested a hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it.
“Thank you,” you said, and he nodded with a smile.
“Good luck with everything,” you beamed and waved at him, your daughter imitating you as you started walking to the bus stop, hailing the vehicle as it was approaching.
Juyeon walked in the opposite way to the small parking lot in front of the coffee shop, his leg swinging over his motorcycle. He sat there for a minute, watching you get on the bus before the doors closing behind you, holding his helmet in hand. You were a busy, ambitious woman, you had set your priorities high, and you were not going to change them for a man. He was a bit scared of committing to a relationship with a busy woman and a child, yet that didn’t prevent him from wanting to get to know you and finding you attractive. He loved it even if he was a bit anxious about getting hurt, as it happened in his past way too many times to his likings.
His gloved hand moved side to side as the bus drove past him, your daughter on your hip as you both waved at him. The smile you had plastered on your face reassured him, hoping that you would give his heart a break and not break it.
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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago
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A Night To Remember ~ Bang Chan [Request]
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WORD COUNT: 6.7K
GENRE: Angst with a happy ending
PAIRING: Bang Chan x Nurse!Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Mentions of self deprecation, I hope this is okay I know you asked for an idol to say something but bissshhhh I’m a jyp nation stan I would rip my own heart out, so I hope this is okay!!!
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As a nurse, you were used to going to different gala events occasionally throughout the year. It was one thing medical school hadn't prepared you for, meeting everyone that technically paid your wages. Your boss would throw them so that the benefactors of the hospital that you worked in could get to know the people their money was going to. The hospital also through functions in order to raise money for other things benefactors couldn't help with. None of the events you'd been to was as extravagant as the gala that JYP was hosting for a charity event but it was still a gala nonetheless. The gala was there to raise money for different charities, people could bid on different things like a night with different Idols. A song was written by a specific idol if they bid high enough on it and so on and so forth. Chan had told you about this event months ago wanting to mentally prepare you for the night and allow you to get a dress in time and he was excited about it as well. When he was a trainee he'd helped out at the Gala's before but he'd never gotten to attend one until now which made you all the more nervous about what you looked like since you were his plus one. 
"Are you sure this is okay?" You asked your best friend - Kayla - through the webcam as you ran your hands down the fabric of your dress waiting anxiously for her opinion, she'd been with you when you bought it but it didn't mean she liked it. The dress was perfect for this kind of event but that didn't make you feel any less insecure about it all, you were going to be surrounded by insanely beautiful people. All of them prettier than the next, not to mention how fit they were so it was safe to say you felt like you were going to stick out like a sore thumb. Your friend shook her head at you taking in the sight of the light sky blue tulle, v-neck gown with its A-line silhouette dress, it was breathtaking to see you in it again. The sleeveless dress showing off your arms perfectly and the applique embellishment made it look fancy but not too fancy.
"Y/n I told you when you bought it how nice it was-" You cut her off as soon as she said the word nice, to you that meant it wasn't nice at all.
"Yes! Nice! I don't want nice, I have to look great. C-Chan is going to be surrounded by all of these beautiful people and if I don't match up I'm going to-" You stopped talking when you heard the front door to your apartment open and close followed by the sounds of Chan coming in from work. Kayla smirked as soon as she saw the look on your face, she knew that meant Chan was home and he hadn't seen what you were wearing yet so you had to prepare yourself for it.
"Go, you look fabulous." She ushered you off the call as she shook her head at you before hanging up. No matter what she said to you she knew there was nothing she could say to make you feel less insecure about it.
"Chris?" You called out down the stairs as you heard him moving around, probably putting everything from work away before coming up to you. You were looking around the corner of the stairs as you hid your body so he couldn't see you,
"Yeah?" His head peered around the corner of the staircase and you smiled at him happily. It felt good to see his big eye staring back at you after not seeing him all day. As soon as he saw the way you were hiding your body he knew what you were doing and chuckled to himself softly, 
"Are you in the dress? The dress you've been hiding from me for the last month and a half?" He smirked as soon as he saw you nodding your head and practically began to sprint up the staircase to come and see you. He'd been dying to see you in it since the moment you told him you found the perfect outfit you squealed hiding in the bedroom again. The main reason you'd hidden the dress from Chan was that you wanted it to be a surprise for him to see on the night that and you were nervous about what he would think of it. The bedroom door swung open and Chan stood there for a second just taking in the sight of you. 
"Babe..." He breathed out as soon as he saw you standing there, you were doing your best to look as good as possible since you weren't dolled up yet or had the finished look on.
"I-I'm not finished yet, I still have to put on my makeup and do my hair but then I'll be ready by the time you are." You reassured him as you did a small turn in the dress giving him a full look at the dress. Chan's mouth was hanging open just a little as he continued to take in every angle of the dress you were wearing, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared at you. For someone who often wrote songs, he was finding it hard to speak at the minute which made you more nervous about his thoughts on it all.
"G-Go shower," You giggled as he continued to stare, you pushed him into the bathroom before sitting down at the vanity in your shared bedroom staring at yourself in the mirror. Trying not to let your insecure mind take over and run wild with thoughts you knew couldn't be true. He hates what you're wearing you know. Did you see the look on his face? He's never been more disgusted by you then he is right now and he's going to be so embarrassed at the party tonight. You look awful.
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As you got ready your mind kept lingering back to the look he'd given you when he first saw you in the gown made you anxious about it, you couldn't quite read what it meant. The thoughts in your head continued to race about how awful you look and then going over the look on Chan's face. Overanalysing every last interaction you had with him before he went into the shower. You couldn't decide if it was a good or a bad stare that he'd been giving you, then the way his voice sounded when he called you "babe..." It felt as though he was embarrassed about what you were wearing and didn't know how to tell you. 
"Y/n?" Chan called out for the third time in a row as he tried to gain your attention but you were lost in your own space, you turned to look over your shoulder at Chan who was fully dressed in his tux, struggling to do up the cuff links on his shirt.
"Help?" He whimpered out as he continued to struggle with them, you got up without a word and buttoned up the cuff links which were shaped as the doodle he always drew. You'd gotten them custom made for Christmas last year never thinking he would wear them but as a small gag gift. 
"You're in your own world again, what's going on in that gorgeous brain of yours?" Chan questioned when he noticed you hadn't spoken in a while, you shook your head giving him the biggest convincing smile you could manage not wanting to ruin the evening with your head. 
"Nothing. Can you do my choker up for me?" You slid the small diamond choker into his hands and he turned you around, doing up the small necklace before he placed a soft and gentle kiss on the back of your neck. 
"We'll be late, come on," He tapped your shoulder softly as he headed out of the bedroom and down the staircase, the car that was picking you up for the night was waiting outside with the rest of the boys and their dates inside. Thoughts came rushing back to you as you thought about how great they were all going to look, all of them slimmer than you and probably more beautiful too. You'd only met Changbin's date before and never the rest, 
"Baby? Come on, they're waiting." Chan rushed you as he saw you standing still at the door he was already near the car when he noticed you weren't behind him. He frowned to himself before going back to your side and linking your arms together so you didn't have to walk alone. 
"I don't want to be late, I have some last-minute things to set up." He mumbled into your ear pressing a soft kiss against your head as he walked with you towards the car opening the door so you could get in beside Felix and his date who was smiling and introducing herself but all you could see was how gorgeous she looked in comparison to you.
"Y/n," You whispered as she reached out to shake your hand, then you began introducing yourself to everyone else the boys were with and went back to sitting in silence. Your mind kicking you in the head for not dressing up more. All of them looked expensive tonight and fully glammed out compared to you, you were beginning to feel like you were underdressed of the occasion. 
"I had my makeup and hair done by one of the stylists, Hannie arranged it all for me. Who did yours?" Jisung's date questioned you as she looked at you, you'd already forgotten her name after being in the car for five minutes which you felt bad about but couldn't help. 
"O-oh I did it, I did my own hair and makeup," You said proudly as you smiled at her but the look on her face wasn't one of being impressed she just glanced you up and down while nodding and humming to herself. 
"It's...lovely, you look good." Good. You could tell by the way she said the word that she didn't mean it at all. Maybe that's what they were all thinking, you sank back against the seat as you felt more eyes on you but you tried to ignore it turning to look at your boyfriend but he was busy. Chan was lost in conversation with Changbin about something they were auctioning off so you couldn't drop into a conversation with him about anything so you were forced to let your brain overthink once again. Look at how much better they look, far more expensive than this piece of fabric you're wearing and look at Chan. Not even paying attention to you, instead, he's talking to Changbin and staring at Lila, Lila and Changbin look cute together. Your dress is tacky. Your makeup is awful, you saw the way they all looked at you, you know it's true. 
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Your mind continued to go on throughout the rest of the journey making you imagine how great the others were going to turn out in the press photos while yours wouldn't look good at all. As you went to get out of the car Chan's hand on your wrist stopped you,
"Why are we not getting out?" You asked softly as he stopped you from getting out after the rest of them had already left, he reached across and shut the door behind them.
"I have something to do first," He mumbled as he tapped on the glass that separated the driver from the rest of the limo, you frowned at him as the car began to move you stared out of the window. The limo was moving around the back of the building until you reached a back entrance to the Four Season's hotel away from where every person and camera could potentially see you together. This is what it used to be like when you first started dating, taking back entrances and avoiding being spotted together but that was over now. Your relationship had been out for a year and most of STAY loved you and how happy you seemed to make Chan.
"Come on," He took your hand in his as he hurried you into the building after getting out of the car, you picked up the bottom of your dress not wanting to stand in any of the puddles that were in the back ally behind the hotel. 
"Why are we going through the back?" You questioned laughing softly thinking it was just like old times but Chan didn't seem to laugh.
"I have something to do, go and get a drink at the bar." He told you as he walked you into a small room where a group of people were all standing around and waiting, one man on the bar who looked bored. It didn't look like they were apart of the JYP gala so you turned to check if Chan had the right room,
"Chan?" You called out but he was already out of the room before you had a chance to say anything to him the door was already shut in your face and an elderly lady smiled as she walked over to you. 
"You look very beautiful dear," You smiled back at her, thanking her as you looked around the room trying to figure out why you were left back here while Chan walked off to do whatever it was he was doing. 
"Are you here for the charity gala?" You questioned kindly as you both walked over to the bar to get a drink together, you held onto her arm being careful she didn't fall and break a hip. 
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An hour later Chan still hadn't come back to see you and the elderly lady you'd been talking with was taken away and then slowly one by one the room began to empty until it was just you sitting at a table alone. Even the man that had been serving at the bar left to go and do something else. You'd called and text Chan over 12 times asking what was happening but there was no response from him, 
"If he didn't want me to come why invite me?" You mumbled to yourself as you pushed your phone back into your bag trying not to let your brain overwork itself. Playing around with one of the coasters as you tried to entertain yourself for a while
"Y/n?" You dropped the coaster and turned around when you heard a familiar voice call out your name, standing by the door was Brian, Young K, from day6. He frowned when he saw you sitting alone at the table when not too long ago he'd just passed by Chan who was in the main function room alone. He glanced inside of the room wondering why you were in there alone thinking maybe you'd had a fight or you were just trying to get some air.
"Why are you in here?" He nodded for you to come out so you followed him out and into the hallway immediately not wanting to be cramped up in there all night. 
"Chan said he had something to do and to wait for him," You felt a pit begin to grow in the bottom of your stomach as you read the look across Young K's face. It was clear he was trying to come up with some kind of lie to tell you, 
"I just saw him, he told me to come and get you, come on." You could tell it was a lie but you went along with it anyway not wanting to throw a wrench in his evening. You just followed Brian out into the main area and gasping as you looked around at everything in the room, it was more impressive than you could have imagined. The entire hall looked incredible, it was covered in expensive-looking decorations, white table cloths everywhere and everyone looked like they belonged there in huge dresses, ball gowns and suits. Making you feel more out of place than before since you were only in a simple dress for this kind of thing, 
"He's over here," You followed behind Brian who was trying to push through the crowds of people everyone talking over one another as they tried to hear each other over the music. 
"Chan, I brought Y/n, like you asked me too." The tone of voice from Brian made it clear that Chan hadn't asked him to come and get you at all and was trying to make Chan go along with it. You came out from standing behind Brian and smiled at Chan who was standing with Sana and Mina both of them looking stunning in their dresses. Each of them wearing white princess silhouette gowns with matching necklaces around their necks. They looked amazing but what else was new? They always looked breathtakingly beautiful.
"Hi babe, thanks Brian I owe you one." The two of them exchanged looks and you stared down at the ground trying not to feel self-conscious in front of the two most attractive girls you knew in the building.
"You guys look insanely beautiful," You complimented when you finally got the courage to speak to them, Sana went to thank you when Chan shook his head at you, 
"Babe don't. Don't be weird," Your chest tensed as your heart clenched in on itself on what Chan had said to you so you went back to staring at the floor and not wanting to say anything to them in case Chan said it was weird again.  
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"Alone again?" Brian chuckled as he came up behind you at the bar, you smiled weakly at him as you glanced over at Chan who was still standing with Mina and Sana as they engaged in conversation again. Since you'd joint them it had been an awkward and dulling silence but the moment you left them it was back to talking with one another.
"Any idea why they're in matching necklaces and almost identical outfits?" Brian looked back over at the girls and then pointed out the rest of the twice members that were in the same kind of outfits, 
"They're being auctioned off to other idols and celebrities for a day out. Did Chan not tell you any of this?" You shook your head as you glanced around the room at everyone,
"He told me there would be auctions but not what was up for auction," You shrugged your shoulders passing it off as something Chan forgot to mention to you, 
"Chan and Changbin have produced some songs that are up for grabs, the boys are up for auction as well as me-" He flashed the number that was on his tie '345' and then smiled as he went back to explaining. 
"People will get the chance to bid on us for days out, meals we'll pay for and such. All the money going to the charities of tonight's event." As he explained everything the drinks you'd ordered were placed down in front of you and He paid for the drinks before you could making you sigh at him you hated whenever someone would pay for you.
"Gotta be quicker than that to pay," He nudged you playfully as he helped you carry the drinks over to Chan who was watching you both closely wondering what it was you were talking about. 
"You should bid on me tonight, I've seen who wants to and I would much rather you have me for a day than someone them." He teased placing the drinks down onto the table while Chan eyed you up carefully again as he tried to make out what was making you laugh. 
"What's so funny?" He questioned when he heard your small giggle leave your throat, 
"Brian wanting me to bid on him-" You tried to explain but Chan cut you off quickly,
"Young K." Chan corrected you as he heard you call him Brian but Brian didn't mind what he was called, it just for joke purposes when he would yell out that he didn't know who Brian was.
"It's okay Chan, she can call me whatever she wants." Brian tried to laugh it off but it was clear Chan didn't find any of what was happening funny so you stayed silent on the matter and sipped on your drink. 
"Y/n won't be bidding on anything tonight anyway," You frowned as Chan spoke on your behalf and you shook your head you'd made sure to pack your purse for the sole purpose of bidding on things. 
"Why not?" You questioned as you looked to him for an answer, 
"You don't need to." He mumbled as he turned to look at Chanbin who was calling his name from another part of the room. 
"I have to go on stage to be auctioned off. Stay here. Don't go anywhere." His voice was stern so you just obeyed him not wanting to test him when he seemed he was already in a bad mood for whatever reason tonight. You stayed by the table watching over his drinks and the girls as they walked away to go and get ready for their stage time. 
"I have to go as well, cheer up. Bid on whatever you want. Don't let grumpy pants put you in a bad mood." Brian winked at you before leaving to go and join the rest of the guys that were lining up. JYP already standing on the stage clutching a microphone as he announced what was going to happen and how people were supposed to bid on what or who they wanted. Writing down the number of what they wanted on a form and placing their highest bid on the sheet of paper before disclosing it into the boxes at the bars. At the end of the night, the winners would be announced in front of everyone and what they had won. 
"Fuck it." You whispered to yourself going over to the bar again as you began writing down the number and how much you wanted to bid on. 
"Having fun?" You turned to see the same elderly lady from earlier standing at the bar with you and you smiled at her,
"Lots. Are you?" She nodded over at someone in the crowd and told you that her son was being very nice to her after leaving her in the waiting room for so long.  
"Who are you with?" She questioned as she wrote down who she was bidding on before slipping it into the box, 
"My boyfriend, Chan from erm Stray kids." You pointed at Chan who was standing on the stage and she smiled at you rubbing your arms softly,
"Very cute, I can't wait to see the press images of you together. Those are always my favourite, and then the photo booth ones from inside the entrance hall...." Your heart sank as you realised there would be no photographs of you and Chan together tonight and then your head convinced you it was because he hated the way you looked in the dress you were wearing. That being the only explanation for sending you through the back entrance tonight instead of the main one where everyone else had gone and then leaving you in the "waiting room". 
"Y-Yeah, I can't wait to see them." You lied as you excused yourself back to your table to wait for Chan to come back and get his drinks. 
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He never went back to the table he was the social butterfly he always was going over to different people in the room and talking with them while he avoided your direction altogether. You didn't blame him though, you loved how much he got along with everyone he met but you just wished he would come and see you for a while.
"Can I clean up for you?" A young waiter asked as he came over to the table, you recognised him as one of the trainees and you shook your head at him.
"No, it's okay. Chan will be over soon." At least you hoped he would be but the longer you stood there the less likely it seemed to be as he kept getting further and further away from you. The moment you saw him getting further away you sighed to yourself,
"A-Actually, just clean it up." You whispered to the trainee before heading in the direction of where the toilet signs were wanting to freshen yourself up a little before you went to ask Chan to go to the photo booth together. You at least wanted something good to come out of tonight. A small photo of you both together to go on your wall back home, it would be cute.
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"I mean did you say her dress? Looks like she got it at a discount store," You heard Lila's voice fill the women's bathroom followed by some girly giggles as people followed her into the room. You looked at the door of the toilet booth you were sitting in and bit down on your lip, you were about to leave when they had walked into the room. Mentally thanking yourself for not going out when you wanted to.
"Lila! That's Chan's girlfriend you can't say things like that," You knew that that was Felix's girlfriend trying to defend you but it didn't work since Lila only threw back another comment about you. 
"I'm being nice but not telling her to her face. I mean we all went all out. The least she could have done was dress up nice, why do you think Chan made them go around the back?" She started sniggering to herself and the girls joined in, 
"He doesn't want to be seen with her in that tacky looking dress," She started laughing harder and your heart sank as she confirmed your fears about Chan forcing you to enter through the back entrance.
"I heard he was going to leave her in the waiting room all night with the elderly ones, the only reason she's come out is that Young K found her and felt sorry for her," Tears began to well up in your eyes as you heard them speak about you as though you were nothing. 
"What does she do again?" Jisung's girlfriend asked as she applied lipstick onto her lips passing the colour over to someone else as they all checked themselves out. 
"Apart from clinging onto Chan and live off of his money?" Someone laughed loudly and you rolled your head back against the door wanting nothing more than for them all to leave the room so you could get out in one piece. The back exit of the hotel looking more and more attractive as the seconds ticked by.
"She's a nurse, that's why they're so good together cause they understand how busy the other one gets." Someone you didn't recognise said to them in a softer tone trying to get them to stop being so mean but the rest of the girls all scoffed. 
"Whatever. The least she could have done is tried to look presentable." The doors all shut behind them and you could have sunk down onto the floor in a pool of tears but you stopped yourself, coming out of the stall to look at yourself in the mirror. They were right, why would Chan want you to go around the front when you were dressed like this. You cleaned your hands before heading out into the hall bumping straight into Lila and the girls who all stared at you in horror as they realised you'd heard everything they'd been saying in there and then Lila smirked shrugging her shoulders when you met her gaze. 
"E-Excuse me," You mumbled pushing yourself out of their way and heading towards the main doors wanting to leave when cameras began flashing. The girls all began to laugh as you backed away from the doors going into the main function room to find a way back out. 
"I know, it looks awful. I tried to tell her but I didn't know how to so I just stayed silent." Chan was standing in front of you talking to Jisung and Felix and you felt your heart clench even more than it did when you were trapped in the bathroom. Even your own boyfriend thought you looked awful, everything confirming for you that it was the reason he'd taken you through the back and tried to leave you there for the night. 
"I swear if it wasn't for you guys I wouldn't have come, it's so embarrassing." He let out a breathy chuckle not noticing the look he was getting from Felix when he spotted you behind him but you just walked away in silence keeping your head down as you tried to find the fastest route out of there.
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"Y/n? Where are you going their about to announce some of the winners." Brian said as he noticed you heading towards the back door of the room your hand resting on the door as you stopped to speak to him so you didn't seem rude since he'd been the kindest to you all night.
"H-Home, not feeling too great." You lied as you looked at him, Chan watching from behind as he noticed that you were alone with Brian again. Jealously bubbling inside of him as he made his way over to you. Lila and her friends all gathered at the bar to start watching smirking at one another at what was about to unfold in front of them. 
"I'll walk you out, come on." Brian nodded over to the front entrance again and you shook your head fear rising in you at the thought of going out of the main doors. 
"I-I'll go out the back. I wouldn't want to risk embarrassing someone with how awful I look tonight." Brian frowned watching you walk out of the door as he tried to figure out what you meant by all of that.
"Chan what did-" He stopped trying to ask what you meant when Chan stormed out of the room after you, not saying anything to anyone as he just left the venue. 
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"Leave me alone," You mumbled to Chan as he tried to convince you to talk to him for the 100th time in a row, you'd gotten into the same cab since he left not long after you and demanded you talk to him but you couldn't. You didn't trust yourself not to cry in front of him in the taxi ride and now you were home all you wanted to do was get out of the dress and sleep for a week, never to be seen again. Along with burning the dress the moment you had the chance to. 
"Y/n, we have to talk about this! What is wrong with you tonight?" He questioned but you kicked off your heels and continued walking up the staircase towards the bedroom, taking out the earrings and putting them into the jewellery box on the vanity. You ignored his question not wanting to get into it but he just kept pushing you for answers.
"You've been in an awful mood all night, what's your problem?!" He questioned once he saw you struggling to undo the zip on the back of your dress. Your arms fell down in defeat as he had the nerve to tell you that you were the one in the bad mood, 
"I've been in a bad mood?" You questioned as you stared at him dumbfounded that he was accusing you of being the one in a bad mood. 
"What's your problem? We went out for a nice night and you've ruined it by leaving early." You rolled your eyes as you went back to struggling to reach the zip at the back of your dress, 
"You could have stayed there, lord knows you were having fun without me before I came in with Brian." You mumbled to yourself, wanting to scream out in annoyance with the dress when you couldn't get it undone quick enough.
"Talk to me when you're out of this mood," He grumbled at you as he turned to leave the bedroom, you sniffled as the tears you'd been holding in all night finally began to pour down your cheeks. 
"If you were so embarrassed by what I was wearing you should have just told me! Instead of going to great lengths to keep me hidden away from every person and camera possible." You breathed out as you stared at the back of his head, his shoulders tensed up as he turned back to look at you. 
"Is that what you thought I was doing?" His eyes softened as he stared at you waiting for your answer,
"No. Its what I know you were doing. I-I heard Lila and that in the bathroom, f-for fuck sake Chan you made me go through the back entrance and left me in a waiting room for an hour! Completely forgetting I was there!" The tears came gushing down your cheeks as the night stayed clear in your head. Your hands began to shake as you tried to get the dress off your body but it wouldn't budge. The zipper staying in place as you continued to try and get it off you,
"G-Get it off me, please." You stumbled over your words continuing to struggle until you cried out, 
"Get this fucking thing off me!" Your hands began shaking viciously as you tried to get the dress to come undone Chan wrapped his arms around you from behind as he began unzipping the dress for you as he helped you out of it. The two of you sunk down onto your knees as he brought you into his chest but you moved away from him, shaking your head as you cried. 
"I never meant for you to think that-" He tried to defend himself but you shook your head again, your mind going back to what you heard him say before.
"I heard what you were telling the boys, that I look awful and I'm embarrassing you...Next time save me the embarrassment and tell me." You got up from the floor heading to the en-suite when Chan stopped you by pressing his body against yours. His heart was racing you could feel it on your bare back as he wrapped his arms around you from behind as he shook his head. Promising you that it wasn't you that he was talking about.
"Baby no, N-No. I wasn't talking about you." He sighed, leaving kisses up and down your shoulder as he tried to reassure you that it wasn't you that he'd been talking about. The more he kissed you the harder you cried not wanting him to lie to you, 
"I heard you, I heard Lila and the girls. Y-You should have told me at home and I wouldn't have gone Chan. You wouldn't have to have gone to great lengths in hiding me." He turned you around to face him but you avoided his gaze keeping your eyes turned to the floor until he cupped your face in his hand.
"Whatever Lila said is a lie, I took you through the back because I know how insecure you are about cameras, I didn't want you to be uncomfortable with them." He whispered to you as he bent down to look into your eyes whenever you would move them off him, 
"I left you in the back room while I went to finish working on a song. I was on my way when Sana and Mina asked me to stand with them..." You scoffed at his poor attempt at an excuse, the first one you could believe but not this one, 
"Yeah, right. Like I was born yesterday." You swatted his hands away from your body but he pulled you back to him not letting you get away from him that easily. Not when he had to tell you the truth and make you see the truth. 
"I'm not and never will be embarrassed to be seen with you. What would make you think anything like that?" He reassured you as he kissed your forehead, 
"Y-You didn't say anything when you saw the dress at home and then when we went through the back I thought maybe it was true...T-Then Lila in the bathroom-" A sob interrupted you as you cried out again feeling pathetic for crying over something like this in front of him, 
"Then when I was leaving you said how awful someone looked and how embarrassing it was..." Chan could see why you thought he was doing the best he could to keep you hidden but he shook his head.
"Lila is a piece of work, I'll talk with Changbin about it later. Y/n. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on...You could have rocked up in a bin bag and I would have loved you for it." He whispered as he sat you down on the edge of the bed beside you, linking his hands with yours as he tried to get you to listen to him and pay attention. 
"The only thing embarrassing about tonight was that Lila won a day with me, she didn't bother bidding on anything except for me. The thing I said looked awful..." You looked up at him with your eyes teared up and bloodshot, he cupped your face in his hands as he shook his head leaning down to peck your lips.
"Was Sana's necklace, none of them wanted to wear them but their managers said it looked great. I didn't have the heart to say it didn't." Everything he was telling you was starting to make sense, deep down inside Chan would never do anything or say anything that could hurt you but in those moments your head did all of the overthinking for you.
"I'm sorry." You whispered to him as you snuggled your head into his chest, his arms automatically wrapping around your body as he whispered that it was okay. 
"I love you, you looked stunning tonight babe." He whispered to you as he pressed small kisses on the top of your head repeating it over and over to you. 
"I really do love the dress..." He whispered as you sniffled against him again, 
"I love you too Channie," You whispered to him not answering him on the dress subject since it was just bringing bad memories to your mind. 
"Come on. Let's get you into a nice hot shower and then I'll make us a hot drink." He tapped your side carefully as he helped you up from the bed turning to leave for the bathroom when his phone started vibrating from inside his pocket. 
"You bid on Brian-Hyung?" He stared at his phone as he read the text from Brian, glancing over his shoulder you smirked to see the smirking emojis from the older idol, 
Tell Y/n to put on her dancing shoes we're going to have a great day! You started giggling to yourself as you pulled Chan towards the bathroom trying to make him forget about it, 
"I'll swap my day with Lila for your day with Brian Hyung," He mumbled as he looked at you not wanting to get jealous over you and Brian again. 
"How about we just dump the day with Lila and you come with me and Brian?" You questioned as a text came through to your phone confirming your win on both Chan and Brian for a day together, outbidding Lila by a mile by the looks of it. 
"Did I ever mention that you're the best girlfriend a guy could ask for?" You shook your head as Chan picked you up carefully and carried you towards the bathroom, 
"I don't think you've ever mentioned it Christopher. Tell me please," You giggled as he kicked the bathroom door shut and began explaining all of the reasons you were so great to you.
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Tagline: @taestannie​ @channiewoo​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @minholuvs​ @lkwonmj​
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godofdystopia · 2 years ago
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Sashannarcy Week Day 3: Jealousy
Another day, another entry in @phrogfrommars Sashannarcy week! This time it’s jealousy.
While hosting a booth at Comic Con, a particularly smitten fan decides to ask out Marcy in front of everyone. Sasha and Anne take exception to this.
words: 2.4k. slightly longer now
“Thank you and enjoy the rest of the Con!” Marcy said to the leaving family.
The teenage girls, about the same age that she was when she was thrown into amphibia, thanked her for the autographs and ran off to check out a Demon Slayer merch booth, with the father chuckling as he walked off after them.
Marcy leaned back into her chair and just sighed with contentment. She’d managed her childhood dream: she had her own booth at Comic Con! She liked to believe that it was for her growing talents as an artist even though she knew it was probably for the ‘Helped save the entire world at 13’ thing.
She knew she had fans though, cause after the news died down about one of the LA Saviors writing her own webcomic, and the deluge of people who read it to get close to her had faded, what was left was apparently a pretty sizeable fanbase of people who just… liked her work because it was good.
She fought down the urge to start handflapping in excitement again, last time she’d knocked over her laptop and the stack of informational fliers about how to start your own webcomic she’d brought with her.
She remembered the first few people who had shown up to the booth in homemade merch of her webcomic: One elderly man leaning on a cane he’d carved to resemble the staff of Malekith the Arch-Magister, The incredibly muscular woman who had on a pretty good replica of Warlord Tormund’s face paint and warhammer, a couple who were cosplaying as Lady Olivia and her faithful knight Ser Yunnan (She couldn’t resist!) and two twins dressed up like Gelamir the Golden King and Horace the False Hero.
She’d cried, she’d actually cried at that. Anne and Sasha had to hold her for a few minutes just because she wouldn’t stop crying from happiness. It was almost as bad as when Anne and Sasha proposed.
Almost.
She leaned, looked at the ceiling above, and just let the noise wash over her.
Here she was, married to the loves of her life, with a job that let her physically manifest her endless imagination into the world, and people actually enjoyed what she wrote.
She wished she could take thirteen year old her by the shoulders and shake her, telling her that things will get better and she doesn’t have to go into medical science like her parents, her teachers, and everyone else want her to.
… oh, and to hurry up and confess to Anne and Sasha already, cause if she didn't she'd end up getting stabbed in the back by an evil salamander who gaslights her into believing he’s her new dad.
Speaking of Anne and Sasha… ‘Where are those two?’
They’d wandered off to go get some refreshments but surely they should have had them by now? How long were the lines for the refreshments?
“Oh my god, you’re Marcy Wu!”
The excited shout drew Marcy out of her thinking and she sat back up in her chair, putting a smile back on for yet another fan.
He was pretty nondescript: Brown tousled hair, five o’clock shadow, glasses, and a brown tweed jacket over a blue sweater. He looked friendly enough, and had something behind his back that he was clearly fumbling with.
“Yep, little old Marcy: That’s me!” She said cheerily, reaching over to grab a pen. “Do you want an Autograph?”
“No, I… Well, actually yes I would.” He looked a little embarrassed as she offered a gentle smile, writing out her name like she had so many times now. “But I would also like to ask you something?”
Marcy just smiled and waited for him to continue.
“I would like you…” He got down on one knee and thrust out a bouquet of roses. “... to go out with me!” He shouted the last bit loudly, causing a few heads to turn towards them.
Marcy just blinked owlishly, staring at the man like he had grown a bunch of new heads and started talking in tongues.
“Bwuh?”
“I’ve been a fan of yours since you saved the world! I followed all your socials-”
‘Okay, that’s a bit weird, but nice I think…?’ Marcy thought to herself as her smile turned increasingly awkward.
“I’ve been sending you fan mail for a whole year!”
‘Wait, that was him?’ Marcy thought, now creeped out.
“I’ve even wrote this twenty seven page essay on why you should go out with me and-”
“OKAY!” Marcy yelled, wanting this conversation to be over but not wanting to be rude. “Uh, thank you but I'm good. Anyway, uh here’s an autograph. Next plea-”
“To help convince you, I have prepared-” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an I-phone. “-A serenade!” He fiddled with the phone for a bit, and then cheesy upbeat music began to play.
He then, to Marcy’s absolute horror, began to sing.
‘Oh my frog.’ Marcy thought to herself. ‘This is worse than getting stabbed. I wish Andrias was around to stab me again.’
**********
Anne and Sasha walked through the con, hand in hand, and fast food bags in their free hands.
Marcy hadn’t been the one to convince them to dress up like the characters she most certainly didn’t base the three main female heroines in her webcomic off of, not at all! Yeah, sure: they were all in love with one another and all had suspiciously similar lives to the ones they led in Amphibia but it’s all a coincidence!
Anne and Sasha didn’t buy it, but nor did they care. They chose to dress up because they loved Marcy.sd
Anne was clad in a bright blue tunic over a simple white long-sleeve button up, a pair of black wool pants that led down to shining golden boots that went up to her knees, but matched with a pair of similarly metallic gloves made her look like a folkish knight. A simple belt held a sword that looked quite similar to the one that Anne used in Amphibia.
Apparently, Brenda was a normal teenage girl from San Francisco who got whisked away to the shattered realm of Arvanis, where she had to use the power of found family and the heart to save not only Arvanis, but all the worlds of the multiverse. She would go on an epic, continent-spanning adventure where she found out she was chosen by destiny itself to save the world as well as her newfound family alongside her girlfriend Haley.
Totally not Anne.
Sasha, meanwhile, was clad in blackened plate and faux wolf fur. She had one pauldron that had a spike big enough to make a Chaos Space Marine feel inadequate, the other had a dragon skull that Marcy called, ‘The Skull of Tyrannus the Dread Hunger.’ Her breastplate was carved to resemble a deer’s skull like she was a Dragon Age character, with a matching pair of hip armor and her hair had a crown of knives and was curled up like Carrie Fisher.
Princess Akana was the daughter of Warlord Tormund and was also his second-in-command, While he ruled over the black tower in the Mountains of Mourne, she led his war parties to oppress the people of the kingdom of Telchis. She knew no other life until she met Brenda and Haley. There, her long hard heart began to thaw and she began to wonder if this was the life she wanted to lead. Soon, she would be forced to join forces with Brenda and Haley, alongside their friends and companions, to face the Nameless God and his army of demons. And there they would learn that love does truly bloom on the battlefield as Brenda, Haley, and Akana fell madly in love with one another.
Sasha had laughed and gave Marcy a kiss for that one, even if the girl insisted it totally wasn’t them.
Either way, the two girls had gone out of their way to dress up for their wife to surprise her, which led to lots of happy squealing. Marcy’s smile made the long nights of trying to get Sasha’s armor just right all worth it.
“Just saying, we could have gone to the Thai Go truck. Ned would be willing to hook us up.” Sasha said as she drank her boba tea.
“Did you see the line in front of that truck? I like Ned but I'm not waiting for an hour just to get some of my parents cooking.” Anne said as she walked hand in hand with her wife. “We’ll just swing by their place afterwards.”
“I want Thai food though!” Sasha complained.
“... I can make Thai food, Sash. I can do it easily.”
Sasha was about to respond when she caught sight of the weirdest thing: Some dude was taking a knee in front of Marcy’s stand and seemed to be playing music while… holding… flowers.
Oh.
Oh, Hell No.
Anne blinked at the angry expression on Sasha’s face and, turning towards what she was looking at, started snickering. “What the hell is he doing?”
“He’s flirting. With our wife!” Sasha snarled angrily.
“C’mon Sasha, it’s probably something el-”
“Oh Marcy, you’re so fine! I wanna make you miiiine! Cause you’re so pretty!”
An explosion of blue light erupted in Anne’s eyes as she suddenly went very still.
Sasha, meanwhile, didn’t even notice when her fist clenched her Boba so hard that the drink exploded.
**********
Marcy sat in her own personal hell as the excited fan continued to sing, badly, about how much he liked her and wanted her to go on a date with him.
Marcy coughed into her fist, and made sure to use the hand that had both her wedding rings on it.  He failed to notice and continued to sing badly.
“Ohhh Marcyyyyy-”
“Hey!”
Anne stomped up to the fan, her metal boots clanking on the ground as she did so. She leaned over the man, glaring at him. “That’s our Mar-Mar. We already called dibs!”
The watching crowd all began to mutter and look between her and Marcy, who had proceeded to bury her face into her hands at Anne’s comment. The couple dressed up as Queen Olivia and Sir Yunnan began to chuckle.
“Wha- You can’t call dibs on a person!” The fan, who’s nametag read ‘Jacob’ said shocked.
“Well that’s too damn bad cause me and Sasha already did!” Anne yelled, holding up her gauntleted hand to show off her wedding rings. “We got dibs. Go find your own Marcy.”
“Wait, I thought she was married to that woman?” Jacob pointed behind Anne back at the Table. Anne turned back just in time to see Sasha make her move.
“Ohh Marbles. Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” Sasha said with a smirk, sitting on the booth table and crooking Marcy’s head up towards hers with a metal clad finger. Marcy had descended into a blushing mess at this and was now spluttering incoherently.
“Every time I see you, I remember how much I love you.” Sasha, looking Jacob in the eye out of the corner of hers, leaned in and began to kiss her wife.
Marcy’s face now perfectly resembled a tomato with how red it was, and if one were to listen to her thoughts they would find that her whole mind had begun to bluescreen from the situation.
“Wha- Hey! I want to kiss her too!” Anne, blushing up a storm, managed to stomp her way over to her wives and pulled Marcy away and cupped her face with both hands. Marcy had just enough time to stammer before Anne leaned in and began to kiss her as well.
Sasha smirked before turning her head to look down at Jacob, who looked crestfallen. Her face looked so imperious that everyone watching thought she was Princess Akana brought to life. Which made sense, since for all her protestations to the latter Marcy had in fact based them on her and her wives.
“Marcy is ours. Our wife, not yours.” Sasha channeled all her training from Toad Tower and all her teenage socialite training to perfect a look of such imperious disdain that all watching grew just a little afraid of her. “Go find your own Marcy.”
Jacob, not wanting to mess with the incredibly scary blonde in very realistic looking armor, grabbed his autograph and scurried off.
Sasha waited till he was out of sight before deflating with a sigh, leaning back to look at her wives. “You okay there Mar-mar?”
Anne had finally let up on kissing her wife and stepped back just a little awkwardly, remembering how public this all was and growing just a little mortified. ‘Can’t believe I grew that jealous…’ She thought to herself embarrassed.
Marcy meanwhile, was still trying to recover from the back to back make out’s with her wives. Her face had gone beyond tomato red and was rapidly approaching fire truck red. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out at all, or at least no sound audible to human ears. She looked between the two of them like a fish out of water, just staring.
“Hah! That was amazing!” All three girls turned to see the couple from before, the ones cosplaying as Olivia and Yunan, approaching with smirks on their face. “Took me and Cait by surprise when that guy just dropped to his knees and proposed like that! Good job staking your claim like that though, props!” The amazonian woman, dressed to the nines in a regal dress and tiara, gave them a thumbs up while her wife, and Sasha could see the ring on her finger so she knew they were married, giggled at them in her head to toe suit of green plate armor.
They walked off whispering to one another, and Sasha turned to look back at her wives.
“Well, I think that went well.”
“We- what the heck was that!?” Marcy yelled, her mind still trying to recover.
Anne rubbed her foot against the floor and looked away. “We just… we saw that guy and, well… felt a little jealous?”
“A little jealous? You both made out with me in open public after claiming me for yourselves!”
Sasha frowned a bit “How mad are you right now?”
Marcy breathed in, then breathed out, and looked them both in the eye. “I will be soo mad if you both don’t continue right now!”
Marcy tried not to laugh as she saw her wives blush up storms at that.
‘Two can play that game girls!’ She thought to herself.
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