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eligaxy · 3 years

Text

Wind

☆ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 : Venti x gn!Reader

☆𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : near death experience, you’re confused asf about everything, bad writing cause i suck, spoilers for the we will be reunited quest!! And also for venti’s backstory, venti is serious for once (yes it’s a legitimate warning🤚)

☆𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 : Some angst, some fluff? Idk bye🤨

☆𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 : "It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask." (2.8k words)

♪𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 : i’m an idiot simp, i did this in one sitting and half asleep, english isnt my first language BLA BLA IM SORRY FOR MY POOR WRITING BUT HAVE THIS

basically you don’t know if you can trust venti or not, head says no, heart screams yes

Also, I was listening to stormterror’s lair ost while writing it, just because its fucking amazing, you might wanna listen to it too

I’m nervous to post this?/&:! This is the second fic i’ve ever finished in my whole life

i love venti and he’s hot in his god outfit i don’t make the rules

KAY ENJOY <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

Saying you were exhausted would have been an understatement. After reuniting with your sibling, you had been frantically searching for clues about khaenri'ah and ways to Inazuma. With no luck, you couldn't find any traces of Dainsleif or of your twin. The ruins had been sealed and you had no idea what happened to the inverted statue or the corpse you had found there. Desperately, you clung into every little information you had, you would have turned every rock on this archon damned continent if you had to, which is what led you into those ruins near Guilli plains.

Walking along the destroyed buildings your eyes caught sight of a dandelion and you froze. You missed them so much, why couldn't they go back home with you? All you ever wanted was to be by their side why, why were they running away from you?

You remembered your travels, the moments you shared together, their protectiveness over you, the fondness in their eyes when you smiled at them. You remember the times you got hurt and healed one another with your now missing powers. You remember sleeping by their side and being grateful to the universe to let you keep your ray of sunshine everywhere with you. How ironic.

What had they meant 'once you reach the end of your journey' ? What does that even mean? Stupid twin, if they knew you were here the whole time, why hadn't they come to you? Why were they always leaving just when they were within your grasp? Why? Did they know how much you missed them and how much your heart broke when you finally saw them? Did they?

You only realized you were crying when a small gust of wind had your wet cheek react to the cold, breaking your train of thought. Wind.

The wind is everywhere, you think, free as a bird, always accompanying every citizen of this world, never truly alone. With this in mind, you resumed your exploring, slower this time.

A sigh escaped your mouth. You didn't want to admit it, but the wind did comfort you a little. Almost as if he was here. God of freedom and of the breeze, he was more a singer than a protector and you couldn't bear to think about him. Was it true? What Dain said... Did he destroy this nation? Was he the cause of the scenery that still haunted your nightmares up until 500 years later? Your brain simply couldn't accept that Venti, your Venti, you catch yourself thinking, could have made such an act of wrath. He was the epitome of freedom, why would he take the very thing he based all of his existence on from mere mortals? Barbatos simply couldn't be afraid of being overpowered, he didn't even care about power. All he wanted was freedom and happiness for his people. Surley this couldn't be right?

But then again, who were you to deny the wipe out of an entire nation? The gods did it. They were afraid that Celestia would be overthrown by the pride of humankind, the destruction of khaenri'ah by divine beings was a fact. There was no misunderstanding about this. That was the one thing you were sure of. So why did you feel like crying even more now?

The mere thought of a gentle soul such as Venti committing innocent people to an eternity of suffering didn't sit right with you. Even when his dearest friend Dvalin had turned against him, he didn't try to stop him, didn't even ask the dragon to save him. He healed and helped him, gave him a choice.

'What is freedom if demanded of you by a god?' was the same person that asked this question the same one who committed mass murder? Genocide?

Did the little wine-lover bard you had grown fond of destroy all hopes and light your kin had?

You remember that night when he freed Stanley from his burden, freed his and his friends' spirits. You had marveled at his action, in that instant he was a god, and he definitely hadn't struck you as a murderer. You remember that look of silent pain and grief in his eyes when he sang the tales of the nameless bard he had taken the appearance of. You knew he trusted you enough to share his story, something so personal, you could almost feel the war that took down the tyrant of Mond. Oh how much you cherished that evening, treating him to some well deserved dandelion wine afterwards, his favorite, and asking him to sing you more about the time where was nothing but the spirit of a breeze.

Your heart broke a little, remembering his rosy cheeks and drunk smile, you wish you could talk to him, ask him what happened. What did he do, was he really as dangerous as you had been told? If so, then why did you feel so good around him? Why did you feel like you could give hi-

You stopped walking upon seeing a ruin guard up ahead in the distance. You're so stupid, you think. Feeling this way is not gonna get you anywhere, especially with how the bard had been missing for a few weeks now. Ever since you had last seen your sibling.

Where was he, where was he wandering off to? You walk towards the disabled ruin guard, not really paying any mind to it, still thinking about the god you longed to meet with. If you could see him, what would you even say? Would he even answer your questions? Why did your stomach feel so light and funny when you thought about seeing him, why aren't you angrier?

You're almost at the killing machine's level now, so lost in your thought you don't notice the five other similar robots hidden behind a wall next to it. You notice them only when it's too late and you've already turned them on while thinking about examining them and collecting their serial numbers. When you hear the familiar tick of the mechanism turning on, you internally panic and think about running away only to calm down moments later and think to yourself that you can simply beat it and take what you came here for. Even if you are emotionally and physically tired, you can manage, you think.

That was before hearing five other consecutive ticks right after it, and all around you.

Turning around, your gaze falls upon the small army of field tillers. Fuck.

Paimon wasn't with you today, you had asked for some time alone which she hesitantly accepted, so you couldn't ask her to go fetch help. You would have been worried if you had all your capacities but with the state you were in, you were wondering how you were going to survive this fight. You were alone, none of your companions with you, and deeply weakened by the busy day you had and the few hours of sleep you had managed to steal away from the night. Was it today you would meet your doom, with all your questions and uncertainties unanswered?

You tried your best to fight with the strength you had left, but quickly grew desperate after what felt like hours of efforts to swing your blade and being able to only take one monster down out of the six. It didn't help that you got injured along the way, their blows becoming harder and harder to dodge. After being thrown on the grown for the third time, you understood you had at least two broken ribs and that your shaking legs would soon fail you as well.

Fear crept upon you, you would die here today, alone. Alone. You couldn't talk to your sibling after all, couldn't understand. You didn't even get to talk to him one last time. Him... You would die without the knowledge of the truth about your bard. You would die alone. You didn't want that, you couldn't look death straight in the eye.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

In Mondstadt, there was a musician, a weird singer everyone had heard about at least once. He lived off of his songs and was mostly known for having a great story-telling and being an alcoholic.

The number of people who knew the true nature of his identity were few and he was perfectly content with that. He didn't wish to be a god anymore, his gnosis had been taken away anyway and it's not like he had any power over the city of wind nowadays. Even if his people still worshipped him as Barbatos, it didn't sit right with him to be called a god anymore. It actually never did, he thinks to himself with a smile, he never really took any responsibilities that came with the divine title which is why he was so weak today. But it didn't matter to him, his smile turns into a soft giggle.

Sitting on a mill that was once born from his steps he looks fondly over the city he founded. Even if they were godless, the citizens were still thriving and free. He cared oh so very deeply about the place even if he rarely, if not never, showed the affection within his heart. He remembers the day he grew strong enough to dispel the storms over his actual Mondstadt, and made the weather gentle enough so that there was no need for fireplaces. Nowadays, he loves watching birds nest into the chimney tops and seeing them found their own home. It gave him a sense of belonging like no other, not above his people, but walking among them and watching them nest into this cocoon he created. He was proud of what happened to his land and would do it all over again if he had to.

Especially since it led to him meeting you. This thought doesn't catch him off guard, you often roamed around in his mind after all, and it's not like he didn't write at least three songs about you and your feat, your smile, your courage...

Ah there he goes again, rambling about you in a whisper. He turns around to the statue of him his people erected in his honor, chuckling at how they never made the connection with his signature braids. His, but not really his, since he had stolen this form from someone who was much more deserving of this power than him. Seeing his friend being honored with the statues of the seven around the land made him happy, he hoped that it was a good enough thank you gift in return for everything that the bard whom he couldn't even remember the name of anymore did for him.

Upon gazing at the statue, he remembered telling you of his long gone friend. It was the first time he had talked about him to someone else, he didn't even mention it to Venessa, she who made him believe in himself again. He could ask himself why, but he simply knew that you had something different, more than meets the eye. Perhaps it was because you weren't from Teyvat, or perhaps it was just you being as simple as your natural self but he was simply and utterly captivated by your being. You inspired him to no end, at first he thought it was because he had never met someone like you and he loved new things! But as time grew and he got to know you, he understood quickly the meaning and depth of his passions. He thought of it with a light chuckle, content with your presence alone. He really did need and want you around.

So why did he purposely avoid you like the plague?

The wind had brought to his ears that you had met with Dainsleif.

And your twin.

His first reaction was to search for you, talk to you, he wanted to be here to know what happened! You had searched so long, he couldn't contain himself, still listening to what the wind told him, he started running with excitement but... But wait, Dainsleif was... He told you what?

Oh.

So you heard about Khaenri'ah. He had stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, only sending a warm current of wind your way, hugging you from afar.

He wasn't ready to talk about this yet, not ready to face you and absolutely not ready to answer your questions. He was a coward, he thought, running away like that but what else could he do, really. It was only natural for him to be as uncatchable as air.

A sorry excuse to avoid the fact that even if his past had marvelous story like the one of the nameless bard, it also had its share of darkness, something he wasn't ready to dive back into. Especially not now when your arrival has been shaking this world up like it hasn't been since at least 500 years.

But oh, how he longed to see your face or to hear your voice. So he asked a breeze to report to him what you were up to, and where you were. Just in case! he tells himself, what if you needed help ehe? But he knows you're competent and you won't need the help of a weakling coward like him anytime soon. Or so he thought.

Because when the breeze only gives him a few words back, his blood runs cold.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

As you murmured these words in your desperate state, not really for anyone but yourself as a last resort, a prayer of some sort, you tried to stand by leaning yourself on your sword and failing miserably. You didn't dare look up as you heard the loud footsteps of the metal giants coming your way. It was over, and you barely managed to accept it.

As you rested your forehead against the cold handle of your sword, you closed your eyes, tears starting to make their ways out of your closed eyelids. All you could feel was remorse.

A soft breeze moved your hair slightly and your chest felt like a black hole had taken place where your heart used to be, regretting to not have been able to meet him under the tree at Windrise one last time.

The breeze quickly grew stronger, until it felt unnatural and you looked up from the ground, only to close your eyes again immediately when you realized the wind was too powerful for you to keep them open. If you had struggled to see though, you would have been blinded by the white light that soon illuminated the whole ruins. You didn't have enough time to register the situation when you felt a hand being laid atop your shoulder, snaking around your collarbones and pulling you back into... nothing? Another arm circled your weak form and a voice you immediately recognized said

"I've dealt with things worse than you, now crumble."

You realized that if you couldn't feel a chest behind you while still being embraced by his arms, it was because he was floating above you, and not standing behind you. A look in his direction confirmed your suspicions but what stunned you wasn't the fact that he was flying, but the attire he wore. Barely covering his body, a white set made of materials that seemed like clouds and liquid gold contrasted perfectly with his regular green clothes. His hair was glowing green and his eyes that were focused on the ruin guards up ahead had a marvelous shine that you had never seen before. He had that same aura he did the night he freed Stanley, but there was also something different about the way his hands gripped you a little too tightly or the way his voice sounded.

"Venti.." You muttered his name, relief and affection flooding you all at once, in his presence you felt as if nothing bad could happen to you. How foolish could you be, just a few hours ago you were speculating wether or not he had wiped out an entire civilisation and now here you were, being saved by him and feeling safer than you had in months.

"Close your eyes, I don't want give you a headache" he said, slowly floating legs first towards the ground. His unusually serious voice surprised you (and him) but you did as he told you. Letting go of your sword and leaning back into him, you let him deal with the monsters ahead of you.

"It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask."

Being protected by a god really didn't feel that bad. Especially when you were in love with said god.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Thank you so much for reading whatever this is until the end :’)

Don’t hesitate to comment or reblog, tysm <3

Ps: venti loves u and so do i do pls take care of urself mwah

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact scenario #venti x reader #venti x traveler #venti x lumine #venti x aether #el writes♡

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notnctu · 3 years

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POV | PREVIEW

━ ❝ i’d love to see me from your point of view.❞

❀ lee donghyuck x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, fluff!, angst, optional smut (we got all the big 3 all in one haha) ❀ details - best friends to lovers!au, college!au, ft. best friend mark, slice of life?, inspo from pov by ariana grande ❀ expected word count - 10k + ❀ teaser word count - 532 ❀ warnings - swearing, a lot of alcohol consumption/unhealthy coping mechanisms, sfw kiss scene ❀ synopsis - Donghyuck gradually falls in love with you, his best friend, through unprecedented intimate moments that reveal more than what meets the eye and a drunken shared kiss on your birthday makes him realize how hard he’s fallen for you. You’re oblivious to it all, trying to indulge and seek a one true love through bad tinder hookups or men you meet at the club, all to only end in self doubt that Donghyuck has to reconcile. And he always tells you what you need to hear, while also leaving out the part where he so badly wishes you can love yourself the way he loves you.

a/n - thank u to everyone who voted in my poll a month ago!! here it is!! (the teaser anyways haha) i hope yall are excited for it to drop bc its literally something ive been so happy to write and just overall im whipped for a whipped hyuck LOL and also... wow im not writing a sfw fic thats just SAD FOR ONCE BAHAHA

release date - as i mentioned in my poll, this is going to be released on my birthday as my birthday fic. im turning 21 which is a big thing for me and just anyone in america really lmao so i wanted to gift everyone for just being able to celebrate it w me esp with being in quarantine.. with that being said, it will be released on January 12th, 2021.

lmk if you want to be on the taglist :) @infnteen ; @soliverse ; @tytae-24

READ: PART ONE / PART TWO

“You being here makes me happy enough.” Your hand drops to draw the covers over your shoulders and Hyuck lightly feathers a friendly kiss at the top of your head.

“I’m going to be here for a long time, y/n.” As if you two could get any closer, he fully encapsulates you in his strong arms and your hot bodies mold into each other as if they’re made for it. The welled up emotions in his heart confuses him, but he holds you like he has the whole world in his hands.

He almost can’t believe the pain that compasses him, nothing sharp or unbearable. It’s a pain that yearns to never let you go, never let you feel any hurt, never let your world stop spinning. It’s a feeling of foreign nature, yet you feel so familiar.

“Hyuckie,” At the sound of his nickname, he knows you’re still badly intoxicated. “Nobody has ever loved me like you do. Thanks for being my best friend.” And you’re spewing intimate words of nonsense, right?

Nonetheless, it causes somersaults to spin in the pit of his stomach and the effects of cheap booze mixed with your voice makes him feel like he’s floating on cloud nine. His grip on the fabric of your shirt grows tighter and your hand rests on the curve of his neck, sending chills down his spine.

“Can I ask for my gift now?” Pulling away gently, you search his expression for a confirmation. You’re about to ask him for something only he can give you, but without him knowing how much it’s going to mean to you.

“I can’t drink any more for you, y/n.” He can already feel his headache that will come the next morning. Any more alcohol will tip him over the edge and spend his night in front of the toilet. And unlike Mark, he’s not one to hold his drinks very well.

“No. I want something different from you.” And when he ponders what favor you could possibly ask of him, you speak the unimaginable and drives his throat to close.

“I want you to kiss me. I want to feel a kiss that actually means something, not some half-assed kiss from a stranger during a one night stand. I want to know how it feels like to be kissed by someone who loves me.”

Hyuck speechlessly looks at you, wide eyed and gripping your shirt in his tight fists. You’re so fucking drunk. The words get caught in his throat, jumbled and scrambled at this inexplicably outrageous favor. He’s lightly pulling away from you, turning to lay on his back as he can’t seem to look you in the eye.

“And you expect me to give that to you?” Sarcasm laces his question as he scoffs in disbelief, his heart running a loud drum in his ears. “You’re out of your mind right now.”

But in the most majestic way, you appear above him and replace the view of the gray ceiling. Your warm hand on his chest only brings his heart rate up, the lack of light blurs your features under your shadow and your wandering eyes take in his flustered reaction.

#nct-writers #neosmutcollective #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct #haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan scenario #lee haechan #nct haechan

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hndcrm · 3 years

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47 and Diana are in the safehouse in Berlin. As night falls 47, plagued by his newfound memories, can't sleep. He wanders through the house and discovers Diana snores and talkes in her sleep. What will he do about it?!😏

I have made this so much angstier than the prompt calls for im so sorry my brain only provides pain apparently

He was glad to have his memories back. There was no denying it. It was liberating to know the events of his life in order, to have them fade back into something understandable as opposed to the blank, cryptic void from before. Some were better than others, memories of his and subject 6’s friendship, of the rare times he’d been able to sneak away with his bunny before its untimely and cruel murder.

Despite this, the memories were overwhelmingly bad, and none quite as pervasive and frightening as the car bomb in 1989.

He was the one to trigger it. It was a mission like any other at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. Simple. Two targets, Peter and Nancy Burnwood, their daughter considered acceptable collateral damage. In the end, there was no collateral damage and perhaps that’s the only comfort he takes from the memory, that he didn’t kill her, that he was lucky enough to have her alive today. It’s not comforting because he knows she will leave him as soon as she finds out. He can’t blame her. He’s the one responsible for her involvement in everything bad in their world. He killed her parents, changed her life forever, ruined it without a second thought at the time. He recalls with tears in his eyes how she was there, how she was present when he set it off, that this innocent child had to witness the violent death of her parents. He’s hurt Diana irreversibly and she will hate him forever if she finds out.

Even throughout his career with her, he often pondered morality and his own goodness. Diana became his conscience and urged in private that he wasn’t evil, promised him that he was worthy of kindness and love. He wasn’t sure even then how much he believed her. He trusted her, however, so he did not question the assertions.

He knows she was wrong now. She deserves to know the truth, but it would result in her disappearing from his life, and he’s sure he would die without her.

And now, he cannot sleep. He stares out of the window in the living room and watches the night sky, silently bets on how long it will be before he turns to alcohol for comfort.

There are soft snores coming from Diana’s bedroom. He gulps. The door is tilted open.

The scene before him is like some practical test of his character and self-control. He could come in and watch her sleep, just for a few moments. It wouldn’t disturb her and she would never know, and he could memorise the details of her face, add to his mental depiction of her before she leaves him, imagine what it could be like to hold her like this if they could ever be this intimate together. He could pretend to be one of the few lucky men who have been able to truly witness this, to be able to say they’ve had the pleasure of sleeping next to Diana Burnwood herself.

Or he could do the right thing and close the door, minding his own business as a professional work colleague should, though even that description is generous towards him after what he’s done. He is evil.

Diana says he is good, but he knows she’s wrong. If he were good he wouldn’t want to come in and see her right now.

It’s late and he cannot sleep, he thinks the guilt will swallow him whole if he does not distract himself. He deserves nothing to do with her, deserves to die by her hands a million times over and rot in the deepest circle of hell, but now, watching her silently while she sleeps does not seem so sinful in comparison to the pain he has caused her.

He pushes the door open enough to slide inside and tilts it closed.

The moonlight peeking from behind the curtain streaks across her ribs and reminds him of a bullet that he was responsible for. He feels sick. She deserves so much better.

She’s tangled in the sheets, hair flamed out around her face, and instantly there’s an urge to run his hands through it, to move it off her cheek and behind her ear.

She looks delicate. He knows better than to think so improperly of her, ‘delicate’ is an insult when she is a force to be reckoned with and could kill a man with her sharp-tongued nature alone, but there is no denying the more physical aspects of her beauty when she’s sprawled out so ravishingly. Her upper lip is carved down carefully, brows furrowed slightly, bosom caressed by her silk nightgown and her hands elegantly tangled in the sheets, like a scene from an ancient erotic painting, beauty that could only be appropriately captured by a lover.

She stirs then, and he holds his breath, terrified that he’s awoken her with his selfishness.

She hums something incomprehensible, and the thought that she might sleeptalk scares him. He should leave. Diana trusts him, she does not hide from him. If what she dreams of is something he already knows, there’s no use invading her privacy. If what she dreams of is something he is not aware of, then he should stay clueless, respect her choice to keep it from him and leave, pretending he was never here.

He decides to do the right thing. He pads towards the door.

He’s stopped in his tracks when he hears her moan his name. He can feel his face heating up. He’s evil for having ever come here in the first place. How can he disrespect her so cruelly?

Curiosity turns him around, as he tries to picture the shape her mouth might take when she moans his name, but there is little left to the imagination when she does it again, quieter, and the sight is somehow more erotic and vulgar than anything he’s ever seen, he feels his trousers tightening.

He knows she doesn’t really want him like this. Dreams don’t reflect reality. Perhaps she thought of him crudely once, and he was lucky enough to catch it, but it was a one-off because she must know she deserves better than him.

He’d be more than willing to play out her dreams in reality. He couldn’t, of course, bring himself to ever actually do it. Their shared intimacy exists purely as a fantasy in both of their imaginations.

He’s grateful for his trained stillness as he’s about to leave again, determined that he’s long crossed a line. He must go if he ever wants Diana to think of him neutrally, at least. If she wakes up to see him standing before her so improperly she’ll know of his vile nature before he reveals it.

As he’s something like a metre away from the door, he sees a frustrated Olivia rub her eyes and grumble ‘fucking Burnwood’, then she slams the door in front of him before he can escape and he panics as he’s stuck in a deeply compromising position. The door is too squeaky to risk opening again, but it’s too late, for when he turns around to look at Diana, she’s awake, rubbing her eyes and squinting in the dark. He prays she doesn’t see him.

“47? Is that you?” She calls out, and he freezes. He could still leave. She would know he was here, but it would save him the embarrassing conversation until the morning at least, or maybe, hopefully, she’d forget. “What are you doing here?” She sits up in bed, a strap of her nightgown falling down her arm. The usual excuses for trespassing won’t cut it. I got lost, he thinks sourly.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He starts. How much of the truth should he reveal? Lying to her feels wrong, he knows she knows him too well for it. “I heard you talking, I thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Oh.” Now she turns red. “Well, I’m quite alright.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. He nods dumbly.

“Good.”

“And 47,” she adds then. “What did you hear?” She does a good job of playing off her voice crack, but he can sense the fear in her voice - fear he is responsible for. Why wouldn’t she fear him when he disrespects her like this?

“It was nothing - I didn’t understand anything.” He lies. He must lie to make her feel better. He shouldn’t have come in in the first place. She plays with the strap of her nightgown. He wants to leave but she looks so worried. Guilt greets him again.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately.” She says finally, chest rising in the familiar pattern she uses to calm herself down. “Is everything alright?”

I yearn for you, he thinks. It’s true. The thought tastes disgusting on his tongue.

“The serum. The memories-” he begins, but the following words don’t come. He doesn’t know how to tell her the truth. He doesn’t want to. She furrows her brows together and looks sadly at him.

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Diana gives him a lopsided smile. “If you want to talk about it-”

“No.” His voice sounds harsher than he intends. She cannot know.

He leaves. Another night is spent alone on the cold leather couch, thinking of her in the dark. Eventually, guilt takes over and he cannot bear to think of anything, so he opens a lager and drinks himself to sleep.

He wakes up to find himself covered by a blanket in the morning, and Diana sitting in an armchair next to him. He gulps.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she sighs. He shakes his head, mutters a protest, but the memories of his actions flooding back terrify him. He’s been awful.

He sits up. She hasn’t done anything wrong, and the shame painted across her face makes his insides twist with guilt. He doesn’t deserve to touch her, but all he can think of is comforting her, so he reaches out tentatively. Immediately she smiles at him and wraps her arms around him. It’s unfair how good it feels, how their bodies seem to fit so well together, and she’s innocently on his lap in his embrace, unaware of how many nights he’s spent fantasizing about this. He deserves none of it, he knows.

“I’m sorry, Diana.” He almost sulks into the warm skin revealed by her bateau neckline.

“Whatever for?” She whispers, and he aches again. He can’t tell her.

“I love you,” he whispers as the tears run down his cheeks and he wonders if she can feel them on her neck. It comes out instinctually, and he regrets it immediately. She doesn’t answer. He prays she won’t think anything of it. He’s pathetic. “I’m so sorry.”

They don’t speak of it again, and he spends every living second praying for her forgiveness, for when she eventually finds out.

When he knows she knows, it’s too late for him, and he’s glad she’s killed him. He spends his dying moments craning his neck up to ensure she’s his last dying image. He hopes Edwards will be kind to her.

#hitman #diana/47 #diana burnwood #agent 47 #hitman fic #fic requests

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ephemerlskies · 4 years

Text

constant craving 04 (final) | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: “drabble” series, best friends to lovers au, slight angst, FLUFF, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, smarter idiots but still idiots all the same

⇢ word count: 6.8k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, excessive drinking (drink responsibly), pining, jungkook is an overdramatic baby, a surplus of feelings (i am disgusted with myself), one (1) fire hazard

⇢ summary: with the Friendiversary approaching quickly, both you and Jungkook have an array of trials to navigate through. and, as Seokjin gets caught in the crossfires, you must finally make a decision that will define how the rest of your life will unfold.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: wow.... so bitches really call this a drabble series then write a 6 thousand word finale... its me im bitches... anywho, i really love the way this played out!! jungkook had to hit the bottom to start rising to the top and it shows. also, the ending is like....... hehe well ill just let you all see for yourselves. enjoy my lovely readers! this wrapped up such a heartfelt series that is so dear to my heart. thank you all for the support for this! and i might whip up a few drabbles simply because i think this relationship is really cute hehe ok... happy reading! <3

part four: i love you too

Carrying that music box in his pocket felt like a well-deserved and all too grim reminder of what went down a few days ago. Sitting drunk yet again, though one would best describe Jungkook’s posture as more of a sloven pile of flesh and bones withering away on a bar stool, he searched for the wallet which was in one of his four pockets.

He reached for the wrong one. Instead of the faux leather skimming his skin, it was a solid wood corner pricking the pad of his index finger. It stung more than it should have. Perhaps he'd gotten a splinter, or the top layer of his skin was simply too raw from all the wear and tear of your fight. Jungkook wasn’t one to jump at such negligible shocks, but it sank him back into that night. It wasn't the wooden corner at all.

You loved him. You still love him.

That's what you said. That's what nearly put him on the floor instead of in his chair, and what had been preying on his mind as if he were no different than a helpless animal drowning his regrets in whiskey. And he knew he should have said it back.

Jungkook theorized ways to defy the cruel restraints of time, and if the universe would be so kind as to allow him to travel back to that day in middle school when he happened upon a scared, flush-faced student running so fast and panicked that they bumped into each other, just to be the one who said 'I love you' first. Or those genies and shooting stars and blessed fountains that supposedly granted wishes; he would pay no hesitation to plead with whatever deity would listen and permit his most prioritized desire.

The retrospective bargaining remained a ghost haunting just about every waking moment of his life. Though, he had not been quite sure if said ghost was some cosmic sent presence or simply his own guilt. If regret took on physical ramifications, then Jungkook would have been convinced that was why he felt as if his legs wouldn't have been able to carry him even if he tried.

If I could just go back to that night with the knowledge I know now, I would have hauled my ass to your house instead of that club and told you that my choice was made for me the moment I met you. Every other person I ended up with these past twelve years was simply a buffer for loving you. I had to prepare myself, because loving you was something entirely too tremendous for a boy still grappling with his own faulty speech pattern to assume.

I wish you knew that. I wish I didn’t stand there like an idiot and let you leave, thinking me some hero for finally letting this new guy Seokjin take the place I had always imagined being in. I wish I had just said that I love you.

I love you.

I love you, ___.

Jungkook’s vision resembled that of a smudged lens. However, there were no fingerprints on his eyes. The world had turned blurry and colorless, the latter he knew was not due to the sixth order of whiskey he let soak into his heart’s open wound.

A life of color was one of the many things that left when you did.

He didn’t know it then, but Jungkook was being fervently dramatic since it had not been more than seventy-two hours the last time he spoke to you. Thought to him, it was akin to being just short of death and taking another breath would have been an expense he wasn’t sufficiently funded to pay.

Whatever happened in the interim of him paying his tab and walking out onto the sidewalk must have landed somewhere in the blacked out stretches of his inebriated memory, since he was now staring at your contact gleaming on his phone bearing the semblance of one guardian angel.

It was so ingrained into his routine. Opening the app with the phone icon, clicking the ‘recent’ tab, and finding your name no further than three contacts down the list because he called you as if he had important things to tell you, though normally it was just to hear your voice or to tell you about what he had for lunch. And it nestled into his muscle memory as natural as it was for him to breathe or blink. Even when alcohol debilitated his driving, walking, and thinking, his body was drawn to seek a haven such as yourself. And he nearly pressed ‘call’.

Before the comfort of your voice could ring through to his phone, reality descended upon that reflex. Right now, you were probably with Seokjin, attending some pretentious art gallery for one of his colleagues.

It was just Jungkook and the night sky and the moon that he hoped you were gazing at too; it would be the only connection to you as of now. The moon, a parcel for the most longing gazes.

There are stories where the two protagonists get it right. This was not that story. That reality stung more than the residual burn of whiskey clinging along his throat.

Both you and Jungkook made every wrong decision possible. From the moment you subjected yourself to exploiting the veneer of being a ‘good friend’ to disguise any true feelings that might have taken light, to the moment Jungkook was presented with all the excruciatingly obvious signs that you were in love with him, but was simply too inept to notice, to the both of you neglecting any urge threatening the bounds of platonic. Any path that would have steered to a destination where you two would get that happy ending was conveniently untaken.

And you had a long journey riddled with heartbreak after heartbreak to prove it.

He traded his phone with that wooden music box, scuffing the soles of his shoe as he walked back home, hoping he’d be able to give the gift to you on your Friendiversary.

-----

Your pain was still raw. In this way, you had not considered, or rather avoided the idea of tending to such delicate wounds. The days leading up to the infamous anniversary had been spent hoping you would organically heal enough to allow the presence of Jungkook while denying another reopening in your wound.

You had been juggling a not so thrilling number of conflicts the three days preceding that self-acclaimed national holiday.

One, Seokjin and his bottomless supply of invitations that you felt too obligated to refuse. He had such a life packed with plans which is more than you could have said for Jungkook. He, most likely, busied himself with promoting ranks in some obscenely violent video game. Two, a mutual friend of yours had told you Seokjin was fixing to make your relationship official this coming Friday, and you didn’t want to admit the lackluster reaction upon hearing the news was equivalent to receiving a C on a test. It wasn't the worst grade to receive, but you knew there would always be something better than adequacy. Not satisfying enough nor disappointing enough to be dealt with without bending a few expectations. And three, all you really wanted, the only agent of excitability (both good and bad) that diluted the festering numbness in your heart just a tad more, was thinking about seeing Jungkook on your Friendiversary.

But with that excitement, was its equally worrying constituent: whether or not you would be able see Jungkook that day without cracking under pressure.

Things weren’t exactly attuned between the two of you. Your emotional stature had never been more unsynchronized and offkey with Jungkook’s, so, forcing a celebratory movie or dinner would be no different than adding cornstarch to the already thick tension.

“___? Are you listening?” Everything Seokjin had just been droning on about filtered in and out without a single word being absorbed, and you could have pretended this wasn't the case but stress had apprehended caring enough to lie.

“Sorry… No, I wasn't. I’m just stressed is all.” Since that was only a half lie, self-admonition had not yet taken permanent residency whenever you would look at Seokjin’s eyes offering nothing but genuine tact.

“Oh, sorry to hear! Are you okay? Anything you wanna talk about?” That, and the soft press of his hand over yours had swallowed you into a perpetual, guilty cycle of comparing two incomparable people.

Seokjin was always like this. Serving a gentle smile and honest ears as a vessel of calmness during whatever calamity you were grappling. It was safe knowing if you fell, you’d have a comfortable cushion to soften the impact. He was mindful with his words and had the intelligence to articulate them with impressive eloquence. You were more likely to see pigs fly than to see him stutter. He had a diverse group of friends and walked a steady path to a financially secure life. And you started to wonder what else one would need in a partner? Any sensible person would do much more than you had to snag someone like Seokjin, as handsome as he was kind and respectful. He seemed to have everything Jungkook lacked, including mutual feelings for you.

It would have been entirely too easy to pick him, as if there was a ‘Seokjin’ button and a ‘Jungkook’ button and you could press Seokjin’s on a whim. If choosing him would have meant miraculous nullification of all your very real and very unremitting feelings for that idiot you called your best friend, then you would have done it in a heartbeat.

There wasn't a 'Seokjin' button or a 'Jungkook' button, nor was there a button that would wondrously redistribute your feelings towards Seokjin.

And then there was Jungkook. Always in the back of your mind when he wasn't tenanting the focus of it.

He was never predictable in the ways that mattered. It was just as difficult figuring out his next move as figuring out whether this trait was exciting or exhausting.

Though, this had not been to say you didn’t know him well; in fact, all his habits and preferences and pet peeves could be bound into a book, written by you, and it would be so accurate anyone who read it would think it was an autobiography. He knew you to the same caliber. Where Seokjin would ask what was wrong, Jungkook wouldn’t need to. He already learned your behavior to know to say something along the lines of ‘tell me what’s wrong when you're ready, we can watch your favorite movie or swing by that Chinese place with those great fried dumplings in the meantime’. And on more favorable occasions, he'd say nothing and simply wrap you in his arms and let his shirt become a delta for your tears.

To anyone else, that might sound entirely too frank and perhaps a bit dismissive to be comforting, but to you it was the exact cure for each affliction. To never need explanations that would validate your feelings because Jungkook saw to that right when he took notice; to never manufacture fake smiles through failed attempts at cheering you up since, of course, he knew exactly what to do to vegetate joy in your heart and earn a smile from years and years —and years— of practice. It had almost driven you mad, thinking about how he knew from a shift in your brow what you were feeling and yet, somehow, never realized how deeply in love you were.

All the while, the moment you were convinced you had been versed fluently in his every move, he would pawn another blindsight that would leave you breathless and amazed all the same. Jungkook always had concealed tricks up his sleeve, and life was anything but repetitive with him. You would more often than not find yourself struggling to relearn language and existing itself just to keep up with him. How exactly he managed to wield such diametric facets of being was an enigma beyond the reasoning of this universe.To feel like home, somewhere you belonged outside of your own body, and a daring voyage into a completely new world all at once must have meant he was some sort of Godsend. Only angels could have sculpted a soul so magnetizing, you assumed.

Seokjin was an umbrella, shielding you on some arcane journey under an unforgiving rainfall. Your shoes kept dry and your hair intact.

And if he was the umbrella, then Jungkook was the rain. Falling everywhere and all at once, so that you couldn't help but let yourself be saturated in his entire, vibrant being. And who’s to say letting such a water fall against your skin was a bad thing? Sometimes rain is cleaning, gentle even. They bear fruits as beautiful as rainbows that guide you to an unnamed treasure.

Your treasure, however, had a name.

Jungkook calling.

"___? Hello? You in there?" Seokjin waved his hand in front of your face mostly in a jesting manner, but part of him felt like your eyes were blinded by something held in your heart. If he hadn’t pulled you back into reality, you might have been lost forever.

“I'm just…” Your attention had abandoned this conversation the second his name gave light to your screen. “Sorry, um…”

“It's okay, you can take the call. I’ll be in the kitchen making us some coffee.”

If you were to thank him profusely, it would have been far too obvious how much you missed seeing his name among your notifications, and most likely expose how often you spent thinking of Jungkook while you were supposed to be enthralled with Seokjin. So, you just nodded and answered the phone.

Nodding and answering, as though that didn't feel like taking a breath of clean air after hours of swimming through muddied waters.

“Hello? ___?”

“Jungkook.” It took you longer than usual to form a response and what was assembled had been a half-baked utterance just to let him know you were on the other side of the phone, hearing his voice and feeling a surge of energy course through your veins like he was some delicious narcotic filling life into you after only a week without him.

“___.” Jungkook was in his own debt of words as well. The exchange halted for a few seconds, a jaded breathing cutting the cracked static.

“Look-”

“Hey so-”

Any hope that you had finally caught up to the same page as Jungkook was lost. Now, it seemed you two were reading entirely different books.

“You go.” You said after another dreadful pause. He was the one who called, so he should be the one carrying the burden of navigating through this deafening tension.

“Well, I- uh… I… Well, you see I was just, um, wondering…” Jungkook’s heart must have shut off. That would explain why even the most rudimentary of words felt closer to a foreign language. Or, why he was making conscious efforts to counteract the threat of his nearly dormant lisp.

His brain was drained dry of any blood, his inner mechanisms were shutting down. Even without the alcoholic filter catching words and common sense in its web, Jungkook felt himself fall into an overactive state of dumbfoundedness. Sobriety only a cataract for his emotional override.

“Our friendiversary?”

“I’m sorry, I did not understand literally anything you just said.”

“Me neither.”

The charming and familiar laugh that spilled through the speaker reminded you that Jungkook was in fact a real person. Not some figmented embodiment of every lost and unrequited and tortuous feeling you had been suppressing for twelve years. Jungkook was real, his laugh and everything else you loved about him were all so incredibly real. And more importantly, the pure joy you felt was real; a permanent serialization of his. Your smiles and his smiles had always surfaced in tandem.

Now, you both were laughing. Neither were warranted by his messy attempt at forming a coherent sentence. The weight of discomfort shedding from your shoulders had been partnered with a slew of relieved chuckles.

“Anyway, um. I- I still wanna see you on our Friendiversary. Or, at least give you your gift.” Admitting that was terrifying but the thought of breaking the consecutive streak of eleven years simply because he was too much of a coward to admit he wanted to see you dizzied him. However, the thought of spending your friendiversary alone terrified him beyond comprehension. So, he thought not about that as a possibility; he carved an opening to his heart in hope you wouldn’t send sharp thorns of rejection into it.

“Yeah, I, uh. I still wanna see you too. I mean, it is a national holiday. We gotta have holiday spirit, right?” You were forcing playful banter, it felt like lemon juice scouring cuts on your tongue, but you were so desperate to make things between you two feel normal.

“You’re right! So, um… You can come over tomorrow night. I’ll set up a surprise or whatever.” He seemed to have fallen back into stride with pre-confession Jungkook. Trying to keep up with him now would just exhaust you of all your means, so you chose to save the rest for tomorrow night. Even if that meant watching him walk away to some unforeseeable finish line; his back, the last part of him you’d see until you could finally collect your broken pieces and start walking as well.

“Sounds good! I’ll, um, see you then.”

“See you, ___.”

You had no idea, and how could you, that Jungkook was now wiping small clusters of wetness from the bed of his eyelids. Why he thought you, the one person that remained a constant in his life, would say no to him over one fight (of many) made for quite the spill of tears. But if you did know, you would have told him you felt like crying too.

"Hey! How did everything go?" You were so immersed in your virtual conversation with Jungkook you nearly forgot the person you were presently with. The train of guilt wouldn't stop for your pathetic attempts at disembarking.

"Oh! Thanks for the coffee." You sipped, and it had just been a stall to blink away the tears that were straying beyond your will of concealment. "It went good. We're still celebrating our Friendiversary."

"Friendiversary?" Seokjin's light chuckle veiled his tense concern.

"Yeah... Uh, it's just this thing we do to celebrate our friendship. The day we met."

"Oh... that's..." His eyes were scaling the rim of his mug.

"That's what, Seokjin?" You were stern, knowing well enough it was born of far more than platonic defensiveness. And you had no right to be the one prosecuting him since you clearly had more to hide than meets the eye.

"I mean, it's just interesting how dedicated you are to an anniversary with a friend." Seokjin wielded that soft-spoken voice which made it difficult to be anything but patient with him. And from the tone of it, he seemed to have no ill intentions with that statement, though it had not been an entirely innocent observation. To you, however, it felt like he might as well have set you on fire.

"Interesting? What is that supposed to even mean? I mean, we've been friends for twelve years. I- I don't know why people are always so judgmental." Your arms crossed over your chest, hoping he would take notice how much his comment slighted you. If asked, you would have insisted you would have been this worked up over any of your friends. Though you knew well enough this was untrue, and it made you feel even worse acting as though Seokjin was the one at fault here.

"I'm sorry. I'm not judging you, really. I just... I just have never heard of two friends doing something like that so religiously."

You sighed out all your anger, knowing the way you snapped at him was merely misdirected frustration. "No, I'm sorry. I know it's kinda weird."

"Look, I get it. You guys are close. But, ___, you talk about him so much that half, no, over half of your stories include him. We've been dating for, what, barely a week now, and I know more about this Jungkook guy than I know about you, and I haven't even met him."

Lips parted, ready to dispatch another slew of defenses to refute all the things he said. It was more disappointing than it was shocking to find nothing but a long sigh emerging. Because he was right. Jungkook has been interwoven so thoroughly in your last twelve years that if you only told the stories without him in it, then it would be the least accurate and nondescript retelling of your life. Fragments of an unfinished novel. It would miss the most crucial pieces, entire chapters, of your story.

You would have been presenting a shell of you, hollow and one dimensional. All the inner parts of you, the lungs and veins and tissue that gave you life and made you whole belonged solely with Jungkook.

That's why you sat there, blank faced, foolishly waiting for the words that wouldn't come to your aid because you had no place to contend with him.

"Seokjin... I'm with you..." It's all that would come up your throat, and it felt like acid. You were sure it burned his ears when he heard them more than it had your throat.

It hadn’t even been partially true. Physically you were with him, but in your head you were sitting on your couch with Jungkook, consuming a concerning amount of junk food while chatting through a movie used more as background noise than entertainment.

"Okay. Does that mean you don't have feelings for him?"

"Well..."

"Can you confidently say you could replace all the time you spend with him with time you would spend with me?" Seokjin must have noticed your returning tears because he loosened his verbal grip from your throat. To you, it sounded like he was pacifying you for some horrible sin, to anyone else it sounded as though he was simply trying to dredge up feelings that would disrupt the chance of a relationship between you and him. "___, I like you. I really do, but in all honesty, I'm looking for something serious. I think we would be great together, but only if you don't have any feelings left for him."

"Seokjin..." You regretted looking at him.

Sweetness was strewn in his eyes and gentle smile. Seokjin was softer than cotton, which made the real threat, the rough sandpaper wearing away skin and bones, you. It made it all the more painful to know you had been keeping everything you felt for Jungkook hidden from Seokjin. Though, if one would have presented an objective point of view, your feelings were far from secretive. And the most brutal honesty was that you knew feelings for Seokjin were never in your attainability. Not the way they always had been for Jungkook.

He was the wrong person who crossed paths with you at the right moment. A mere convenience. And you knew he deserved much more than what you had to offer.

"And maybe I'm being an idiot, but I like you too much to give you some ultimatum which would put you in such an unfair position. So, I'll let you think this over." His compassion felt more like a sharp blow to your chest. “No pressure.”

If he hadn’t smiled like he did, then you would have broken up with him right then and there. It was not possible to rip away such tender hope away from a smile so sweet.

"I'm sorry." You meant the remorse behind those words and it still hadn’t amounted to a proper consolation. "I'm sorry. I guess... I guess I'll go... Seokjin?”

“Yes?” He replied quickly, and you knew only a pace that rapid was one brought on by a sliver of faith that you might have made your decision right then.

“You’re a really great person. You deserve the world.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t give him what he wanted. And as bitter and unkind as that might have felt at the moment, it was the only bit of truth and relent you could have offered him.

-----

In your bed, sleep became somewhat of an abstract desire. You knew your rest was deprived from you when the digital clock on your bedside told you it was six hours past the time you'd normally fall asleep. It was because you really did have a choice to make now.

To choose Seokjin, and know you'd collapse in the safety of his reciprocated affection, though haunted by how you would never feel the fullest extent of content. And you would live with that until resentment and distance wedged irreversible damage in your relationship.

Or, to choose Jungkook, which would catapult you into a depth so dark and tenuous that you would have no idea whether you'd meet gentle snow or hard, deadly concrete when you landed. And maybe you'd never land at all; maybe you would be caught in a state of falling down and down forever, until your beating heart eventually stilled.

Which one was worth it? Which were you willing to risk? These were the questions that kept you awake.

The hours leading to your undisclosed celebration events with Jungkook ceased being actual points of your existence and merely obstructions that you had to plow through in order to arrive at some conclusive moment. Something that might give you an answer to all your questions. Something that might have released you from devotedly checking your phone for a Jungkook patented text or call.

You were turning into a half-being. Someone who could only inhale a full breath, laugh an intentional laugh, and sleep a soundless sleep when their other half was there.

If you thought being in love with Jungkook for your entire friendship was pathetic, then you couldn’t fathom what you had become now.

Standing in front of his door, the same one you lugged him to that night he was too drunk to balance on his feet, when you willingly carried all the weight he couldn’t, when your lips became acquainted and comfortable with his within half a beat, you felt as if this chunk of wood was mocking you. A partition barricading you from Jungkook. Your Jungkook. The man you always felt you were on the outskirts of, with only a window to peer into his unreadable mind. And that was enough for you ―until now.

Now you were going to knock on that door with your hand, make him open it for you, and walk into his home. You would be the one to step foot inside of the very structure that only solicited closed doors and immovable walls and fogged windows. And you would leave behind your timidity, every feeling and urge that left you with disappointing compromises for the sake of maintaining this friendship.

You would be selfish, and he would finally feel a mere glimpse of what you have always felt for the best and worst of your life.

Even when he opened the door, arming a smile that actively disarmed you, this home of his was yours to conquer. This was your time to act for you alone, despite how many smiles he sent your way. You had not any weapons or shields or an infantry for a clutch. You just had your heart and all the love it carried.

“Hey! ___, you look… You look great.” There was no real incentive for him to censor how he truly thought you looked. Immeasurably beautiful. It was simply his own nerves impeding on the feelings that were too intense to express without it being followed by an entire soliloquy of I love you’s.

“Thanks... You too...” You could almost feel the words brimming in your and Jungkook’s mouth, carrying such raw emotions and longing intentions.

"I'm really glad that- Jungkook..." Walking into his house punctuated what you were about to say.

His living room was strewn with enough candles to steal the last of your words and to consider his house a fire hazard. That didn't negate this lovely sea of lights to be anything but romantic and thoughtful. A bit cluttered, and not at all perfect, but it must have taken Jungkook hours to set up every wax column. The thoughtfulness of this gesture would have astonished you had it not been for the consistency of Jungkook snatching your breath and words away whenever he tried. It was antithetical, the way you expected his surprises. Yet, always surprised all the same.

Unpredictable, completely surrounding you just like the rain.

"I had to turn off my fire detector but... Worth it." Jungkook considered the number of mishaps that could have dampened any chance of this being romantic.

A candle could tip over and set his entire place ablaze, the wax could leak onto his carpet and tabletops, damaging his furniture and savings for replacements, you and he could have suffocated from all the fumes steaming from the wick. But if that look on your face didn't feel like the only bit of revival to keep his heart's steady beating, if your eyes didn’t look as though it was the only set of eyes that shed beauty into this world then he wouldn't have used up exactly three lighters to pull this stunt. But it did, and he felt warmth and color return to every inch of his body.

He would have used hundreds of lighters to ignite thousands of candles if that meant an ounce of happiness from you. He wanted to say that, but he knew the candles said it for him.

The spectacle almost made you forget why you were here in the first place. It almost made you forget the resolve you managed to gather before entering. And then he said your name.

"___."

The letters flowing from his lips as if they could only be pronounced by his tongue. It sounded so good. So good, that if anyone else were to say it then it wouldn't have been your name at all. It would have sounded wrong, sullied. And it wasn't supplied by neat articulation, this new belonging of your name in his mouth. The need for him to sculpt your name into this world was more than that. "I will never forgive myself if I don't get this out while I still can."

"Jungkook, what is all this?" You didn't know why you felt a collection of tears brimming along your eyes, but you didn't care to figure it out. Perhaps you felt an influx of feelings, an abundance too heavy for your body to seal within the confines of your emotional seams, so they overflowed in the form of tears. This certainly had not been the first time you cried over Jungkook, but you had never cried over him like this.

"___, I love you!" Jungkook said loudly. It was just you and him who could hear, but it felt as though he wanted the entire world to know.

"What? I- You- What?" Your lack of verbal poise was indicative of your love for him once again taking the reins of your mind and heart. Words were a luxury you couldn't afford as of now. You just had to feel everything you were feeling until the rainstorm settled. The hope that he would spare you some remnants of fluency was far along, and you weren't too sure if what Jungkook was about to say would be gentle enough to leave you with any words at all.

"I love you. I don't know why I didn't know it sooner. Or maybe, I- Maybe I did know?" Jungkook sighed at his own ineloquence. "I'm stupid! That's it. That's my only excuse. I'm so stupid. The way I felt about you, the way I still feel about you, is something I thought all best friends had. I thought everyone felt like the moments they weren't spending with their best friends just felt like filler moments. Like, every day I spent without you was just a span of time I had to wait out until I see you again. Like every damn moment of my life is spent waiting for you. And if I don't end up with you then... then I'll never stop waiting."

"Jungkook, I-" He prevailed in surprising you, taking words and breath and thoughts all at once.

"And, I'm that stupid! I really thought all best friends had those moments when they stare at you, and- and-" Now, you weren't the only one with wet eyes and cheeks. "And I just feel like looking at you and being with you just makes me better. It makes me a better person, or something, and it makes me feel like... Like I'll never get hurt again. And even if I do get hurt, I know it's you I want to be there. I know that whenever something bad happens to you, or when you feel like crying or when you're happy or angry or anything that I want to be the one who gets to be by your side. When I look at you, all I want is to love you. To love all your pain away."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes! God, I love you." You didn't notice how it happened, but Jungkook's arms became a shield around you. Inside his arms you were indestructible. Your hands pressed against his cheeks, memorizing the plush, smooth skin. The world could hurl all the fire and ice it had, but it wouldn’t matter. "___, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I'm sorry that in that period, I hurt you. Please, forgive me. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"Of course, I forgive you. I... I can't believe this." Hearing everything you always wanted from him was drastically different when it was actually unfolding. It was a million times more than any hope or dream you used as a salve for your longing. It was everything.

"Maybe it took so long because I was afraid. Because the idea of loving you was something I wasn't ready for. Even though I did love you, God, who was I to take on something as fragile and crucial as loving you. I know I probably would have messed it up. And, fuck, maybe I'm messing it up right now. But I just needed it to be perfect. I needed loving you to be perfect because I don't want to give you anything less than that."

"You were always enough for me, Jungkook. More than enough. You were and are everything to me" His arms that pressed you further into him expressed how happy that made him.

"But I'm not perfect yet. I might mess up... A lot. No, I'll definitely mess up. I don't know if I can offer you perfect yet. But I do know that through everything I have never stopped loving you and I will never stop loving you."

"Jungkook... I don't know what to say." Your thumb grazed a falling tear from his face. Jungkook had not cried often in front of you; and you could tally up the amount of times he had on your fingers alone. But when he did, it was still as beautiful as when he was smiling or laughing or even scowling.

"You could say you love me back." You did. You loved him, his smile that was currently on a mission to melt your heart, his arms that carried both the good and bad parts of you, his wit that you always relished in. All the reasons to love him were an endless flowing river. If you were lucky enough, you would catch a glimpse of each beautiful current and be able to give name to the gravity that pulled you into him.

"I love you too, you idiot." The last word caught in your throat because your lips were being kissed instead.

His lips. Warm and exciting, allotting your being with an infinite devotion of his. And it was more than you could have ever hoped for.

It felt like fire. Like a grove of candles encapsulating the origin of heat. You and Jungkook, holding each other so close, you could have become one. Hot and all-consuming of anything in its path. If one stood too close, they would suffer scorching embers that stray from the orange pyres. Seokjin, Irene, and any other unassuming casualty that had the misfortune of stepping between the two of you, harboring the burn scars to remind them of what fumed from their interference.

Every element concocting between you and him was that of a bright flame, cremating pure metals and wet woods and thick forests alike.

You were in his home. His arms and lips and hands told you it was your home as well. All that time spent wondering why you could never slip inside before was never because he didn't want to let you in. And the thing is, you never thought to knock until now. You sat outside in a silenced hope that he would voluntarily open that door for you. But unknown to you, Jungkook seemed to be waiting as well. Waiting in a large room with empty spaces where you belonged and where he kept reserved for your residence alone.

He waited even when he wasn't quite sure of who he was waiting for, or if you would ever actually spill your warmth into his home. He waited until his fingers turned to ice and his eyes fell to exhaustion, for you to walk inside.

"So, you're like my boyfriend now?" Your voice brushed against his smiling lips.

"Yeah, your boyfriend, or whatever."

"You know this means you have to top next year's friendiversary. And I mean, all these candles? That's gonna be tough." It could have counted as sensory overload, the feeling of his palms flush against your back, the tip of his nose grazing yours, the bright array of candles illuminating the room. But you were so, incredibly cold without him that this felt like solace to you.

"When have I ever disappointed you?" Jungkook regretted what came out of his mouth too late to stop himself from saying it.

"Oh, I couldn't count the amount of times on my fingers alone! What about that time you forgot our chains for the tires on our trip to the mountains? We almost died." His eye roll only encouraged you to continue. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd equip that cute pout whenever he wanted his way. "Or what about when you swore you brought water, but three miles in on our hike you had that look on your face. You know I reminded you to get water and you swore you did. Or what about-"

"Okay! I get it! I fuck up, jeez." He scrunched his nose, his eyes waning into crescents courtesy of that grin of his. You counted the number of wrinkles along the bridge of his nose as you always did, though you had acquired an expertise in the geography of his face. Each line and angle and ridge were now and eternally yours to restudy and marvel. "Hey, uh, almost forgot."

He reached into his front left pocket. "I, um, kept carrying it around thinking I'd see you somewhere. Kinda dumb right?"

"Not dumb." You opened the tiny box, wound the handle until the spring felt tight and you could see the throngs prick the textured wheel, and it was one of those moments where you didn't see a gift in your hand. You simply saw his thought and sentiment manifested as a box of wood that sung a tune.

All the things Jungkook wanted to give you, the sun and the moon and the entire universe were not his to give. So for now, he settled for this music box and there would be a day when he would collect each celestial being and place them right into your hands. Maybe then, he would feel less of a debt for possessing such a love like yours.

"This is... I love it. Thank you, Jungkook." You smiled, but it was motivated in the hopes he would smile back. You thought he deserved that much, at least. And he did.

"Sooooo... Can I tell Seokjin that you're actually in love with me and that he sucks ba-"

"Um, absolutely not!" As always, his crudeness and slight inability to remain mature for too long only wedged you deeper in love.

So, terribly in love. Your state of constant craving for Jeon Jungkook had been left barren. That desolate, solitary province was no longer yours to take residence in.

You had a home now. And you had no need to crave Jungkook anymore. He was right here, holding you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

a/n: okay, cry with me.... these two.... such hopeless saps for each other i'm here for it. final destination is simp city... also (spoiler) it is completely canon that irene and seokjin bond over their mutual heartbreaks and get to smitten hehehe. anyway, my loves i hope you enjoyed this finale as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! it was a short but heartfelt journey with these two and i will miss their idiocy sm. thank u for your endless support i love u all!!! <3

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts writing #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bestfriend!au #jungkook angst #bts series #jungkook bestfriendstolovers!au #jungkook series #constant craving #rubycoast

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that-little-zebunny · 3 years

Text

Skin to Skin (First Sleep over)

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader

Warning: fluff with a pinch of smut. Implied smut.

WC: 1.358

Summary: You're new to the team and end up messing it up with the God of mischief on your first day in. Knowing his reputation you're up for a fun time in the compound.

Note: sorry this is late. Had some bad brain day and I wasn't able to do anything. 🥺 i hope you all dont mind and hope you'll enjoy this.

Also dont forget to check out the HBC's Week of Love and @the-th-horniest-book-club .

Series Masterlist

"Hey, glad you're back and… is safe." You greeted Loki as you walked next to him. Eying him up and down to see if he's hurt but all you saw is his gorgeousness in all its glory. Nodding your head in approval and seeing he's very much fine you held his hand firmly to make him stop walking you tiptoed to kiss his cheeks.

"I am glad I am back too, my sweet cookies. I have missed you." He smiled caressing your cheeks as you stared up at him. You can feel the calm contentment from him and that made you relax completely.

"I hope next time they'll put us on the same mission." You pout as you both start walking again.

"Oh you know why they are not doing that." He laughed.

"Well it was just one time!" You said hands folding on your chest as the memory of your last mission together came to your mind.

It was one big fight with some underground army. It's one bloody day as they tried to fight you off when you came to take their base down and some very high tech and alien weapons were involved and one of those was able to shot Loki from behind causing you to lose focus as you saw everything. He was thrown and was on the ground unmoving and something inside you snapped.

You cried out running towards him. You felt like your brain was about to explode from fear when he didn't respond to your call. You can hear your team's voices over your comms but it was like they're underwater. You couldn't understand what they're saying. All you can think of was Loki is gone and something happened that you didn't know is possible. Everyone within two meter radius from you all fell down clutching their head, crying out, screaming painfully and some had blood on their eyes and nose. You got to Loki holding him in your arms. He's eyes were closed but you felt his consciousness trying to slowly wake up. Caressing his cheeks you kept on muttering please wake up in your head again and again. It was like you're trapped in a bubble and all you can see is him. You only snapped out of it when Nat touched your arm making her calmness rubbed to you. You looked up at her and saw that she's holding the side of her brain too.

You looked around surprised seeing half of the soldiers fighting you were down.

"I-I did that?" You asked, surprised. You've never been able to do that. Influence anyone without physical contact.

"We think so." Nat said, finally relaxing as the pain in her brain slowly fades.

"I-I...oh god, I'm so sorry!" You gasp. You got scared again with the new knowledge but was able to calm down when you felt Loki's consciousness in your. Second later his arms came up to your cheek.

"Everything will be alright, sweet cookies. We will figure this out." He grunted and he pushed himself up sitting down to touch his side. Green mist came out of his hands towards the injury and it disappeared. "I'm sorry that I scared you." He said kissing your cheeks and that's how it started. The team tried to keep you away from Loki if the mission is dangerous or when you're not on a mission you're in Bruce's lab trying to figure out how it happend.

"I shall meet you later alright?" You blinked at Loki when he spoke. You're now in front of the conference room. You nodded.

"Don't forget we have movie night alright?" You reminded him and walked towards Bruce's lab.

It was getting dark and you're in your room waiting for Loki. You've brought in snacks and some drinks. Mostly for you because earth's alcohol doesn't affect Loki. You also have stocks of movies to choose from. You nervously waited. This will be the first time you'll have him alone in your room and just the thought had your face heating up.

"It's alright, it's just movie night." Breathing in and out to calm yourself you checked everything again. It's just you doing your usual hobby with a plus one now. You're fluffing the pillow for the third time when it came, three soft knocks on your door. Sneaking a nervous peak on your setup you walked to let Loki in.

"Hello gorgeous." He greeted you kissing your cheek. You've been touching Loki a lot now that you've become comfortable with his emotions.

"Gorgeous your face." Laughing you moved to the side to let him enter. "I'm wearing pajamas and have bad hair."

"You can be in the ugliest clothing midgard can have and still be gorgeous." He said, pulling you close to steal a kiss and let you go as quickly walking in your room. He's looking around noting all the stuff you have in. Admiring the photographs you have of you and your dearest grandmother. He'd heard a lot of the wonderful woman that raised you when your own parents failed to do you.

He was staring at one particular picture with you and your grandmother in front of an old looking house. You're hugging her from behind, your arms wrapped around her shoulders and cheeks pressing against each other. It was a very sweet image but what caught his attention was the necklace your grandmother was wearing. It looks familiar but he couldn't remember where he last saw it. Shaking his haid he turned to look at you when you called his name. Reaching out a hand to make his walk toward your little comfy made up seat in the foot of your bed.

Slightly cold but strong arms tightening on your waist woke you up. Opening your eyes you came face to face with a firm chest. Face heating up upon remembering how you end up falling asleep on Loki's side in the third movie. You pushed yourself up a little to look at Loki's sleeping face. It's so nice to see him like this. In peace and relaxed. Smiling you traced the shape of his face admiring his beauty. God, you love him so much…

===========*implied smut warning*=======

"I love you too my sweet cookies." He huskily said as his hands went up your side caressing it in time with your tracing.

"How's your first sleepover? Sorry I fell asleep before the last movie ended." You said. "Im such a bad host." You sighed and lay your head on his chest. You felt his shake as he laughed.

"Oh you're the best host my sweetness." He said rolling so you're under him now. "Sleeping beside you and waking up with you as the first face I see. Wouldn't like it if it was anyone else. Thank you for letting me in your personal space." He said. Your heart starts beating wildly as he slowly descends his face to yours.

As his lips touched yours, you melted. Nothing matters but Loki and his touches. Your hands went around his back caressing it enjoying the feel of his skin on yours as his lips stole your breath away. You moaned as his tongue liked your lower lips asking permission. You opened your lips savouring the taste of him. He only left you to let you breathe some air, his lips attacking your neck instead, leaving little kisses from your neck to your shoulder.

"I want you…" you whispered to him. You've never been this intimate with him but something in your core crave him. Craves to feel all of him and be filled with him.

"I've desired you for too long my sweetness. And I shall have you tonight." He said as flicked his hand using his magic to make your clothes disappear.

"You and your magic." You giggled and kissed him again. Savouring the feel of his body on your. His smell, his every delicate but sinful moves and that night he fully owned you and it was like everything clicked, you became one in every sense there is. Your body and mind was two sides of a broken glass and you're whole now.

Tag list

Skin to skin: @delightfulheartdream @victias @kaogasm @marvelgirl7 @alexakeyloveloki @newdaynewyearnewlife @multifandomlife22 @the-lake-is-calling

Tom Hiddleston and Characters: @jewels2876 @jobean12-blog @CurlyRed2020

#hbc week of love #hbc #the th hbc #th hbc #loki marvel #loki x you #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader fan fic #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson smut #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #zephirahnyxwrites

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warmau · 4 years

Text

★ donation request: house party!au johnny tw: mentions of alcohol, mark lee is a lightweight

the door shuts behind you and the music from downstairs suddenly becomes muffled

even though its far from silent, you’re thankful to finally hear your own thoughts

all of which are centered on one person

johnny suh

who threw this party in the first place, and had invited you via text about half an hour ago

a party is a party - so you had graciously accepted and showed up with high hopes of a night of fun

maybe play some dumb games, jump into the neighbors pool, end up crashing on his sofa like you’ve done multiple times before

nothing had prepared you to walk into this situation

everything had been normal, you’d been greeted at the door by yuta - pulling you in by the elbow and pivoting you toward the kitchen

“johnny’s in there!”

he’d sang, shaking the cup in his hand around and sloshing some of whatever was mixed inside all over himself and onto the floor

you didn’t even have to turn to see who’d made a noise of horror at the mess - passing a hello to taeyong over your shoulder

when yuta had pointed you toward johnny, you thought he had done it because johnny was the host

and manners meant you had to greet the host before making yourself comfortable in the crowd of slightly tipsy individuals currently invading every foreseeable corner

plus, johnny and you were close, he’d always been able to make you laugh and you’d always been able to make him feel like he was more than just everyone’s “dream boy”

you and him had a connection that had formed quickly from the first day you’d met

and it was ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, simple

that’s why it worked so damn well

so you’d squeezed through the bodies, bumping into jungwoo and mark on your way through

both of who were giggling messes, pink brushed all over their cheeks

you barely got through - till you were in the kitchen

and johnny was leaning against the counter top, one of those shitty white claws you and him argued about all the time in his hand

at first, he didn’t see you - his attention was honed in on whatever jaehyun was telling him

you kind of buffered before inserting yourself into the conversation, watching johnny’s long and strong figure look both unreal and perfectly settled in the same moment

you didn’t dwell too long on it, you’d seen him like this, with his backwards hat and loose fitting tshirt, before

“i see your house is already trashed?”

you’d commented, taking the white claw out of johnny’s hand and scrunching up your nose

“and you’re still drinking this abomination.”

before johnny even rolls his eyes, jaehyun is excusing himself

you wave, because you don’t think its anything

but jaehyun looks between you two like it is much much much more than that

the looks lost on you as johnny snatches the can back

“you just don’t have good taste, one day you’ll see the error of your ways.”

“haha, what else do you have to drink around here?”

he lists of some your choices, but you settle for a water bottle from the open pack of them up on the fridge

when you turn to reach up to grab it - johnny extends his hand instead

and pulls one down for you with ease that comes with his height

you wanted to chide him with some comment about it

but he leans in and whispers something in your ear that makes all of the lighthearted, joking atmosphere shrivel up

“go to my room, i have to tell you something.”

so now here you are

you feel out of place suddenly, in a house thats almost as familiar as your own

you came in and saw familiar faces, you felt - even in the midst of a crazed and loud party - perfectly safe

because this was johnny’s space, and he would never let anything bad happen to you

but now you don’t know what you feel

johnny might just be planning some elaborate prank

or he might tell you a secret that could shift your whole world upside down

you wish he’d had just whispered it down there in the kitchen

and just as you think you’ve worked up the calm to sit down on the edge of the bed

the door opens and closes and in a sliver of the light from the hallway you see johnny’s expression

it doesn’t look .......... different than normal

but something in the air around him is nervous

“so, what do you want to tell me?”

your voice somehow strings together a sentence

even though you can clearly hear the shaking

johnny flips the switch and the lights turn on in his room.

nothing is different about it, no banner that proclaims he’s moving a million miles away or burst of confetti to scare you out of your wits

he steps closer to you and you smell the cologne of his that had been masked by the flood of other scents downstairs

you can make out that he’s still got that healing bruise from falling off his skateboard last week on his chin

“johnny?”

you ask, tentatively, as he hasn’t said a word in response yet

“i like you”

at first you barely even register the sentence.

he just says it like he says anything else.

“what?”

“i like you.”

he half smiles, shrugs his left shoulder up

“everyone’s sick of me talking about how much i like you and never telling it to your face so - here it goes again: i like you.”

your logical instinct is to think - ok this is some big joke

because,,,,well because you just never thought he’d feel that way about you

because you know you feel that way about him

and you’re not used to that being reciprocated back to you

thankfully, you’re young and you gut instinct tells you to answer him without a second to edit your thoughts

“good. i like you too.”

he perks up, his back straightens and he opens up his arms like he always does when he’s happy

“great, then come here.”

johnny wraps his arms around you as soon as you bury your face into his chest

and this hug is different from the millions he’s given before

this one is a little tighter, his hand slips to hold the side of your waist against him, he brings his lips down into your hair and trails kisses from your forehead to your ear

“did you think i was going to bring you up here and play some joke on you?”

he whispers and you push away from him

“can i be honest?”

“yes”

“i thought you were going to tell me you were moving to alaska or something.”

johnny cocks an eyebrow,

“oh - did i forget to mention, i am moving to alask-”

you roll your eyes and give him a gentle nudge - he just grins in return

“you aren’t allowed to move anywhere now that you’re my boyfriend.”

“oh - so im your boyfriend now?”

he tilts his head, soft brown bangs moving to the side with him

“you better be. sneaking me away from all the good times happening downstairs.”

johnny tugs you back into his arms

he laughs and the sound only drowns out when he presses his lips to yours in the only affirmation you think you’ve ever really wanted from him

kissing him, even with the aftertaste of that horrible white claw, is magical

and when you emerge back in the hall, coming down the stairs hand-in-hand

you spot mark leaning against the side of the staircase looking green, jungwoo gives him an apologetic clap on the back and mark has to grab at his mouth

johnny leans over to you; “is that the good times happening downstairs you were talking about?”

“well- i mean-”

you think you should go help him, but johnny tugs you back upstairs before you can really commit to it

“c’mon, making out in my room is way better of a time than that.”

you hate to admit it,,,,,,,,,,,but you most definitely agree

#nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 au #johnny scenarios #johnny au #johnny imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 #johnny suh #member: johnny #sfw #alcohol /#donation commissions #nct imagines #nct au #nct scenarios

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argumentl · 3 years

Text

The Freedom of Expression Ep 49 - Ioka Kazuto's New Years Eve tattoo problem.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome again this week.

T: What is the celebratory sake for?

K: Well, this is our first recording of the new year..

J: Yes

T: Happy New Year

J: Happy New Year. By the time this is broadcast it will already be well into January though.

K: Yes, so..for good luck.

J: Ah, that would be welcome....but Im not gonna drink it.

K: Why?

J: Um, I've said this a few times before, but my resolution for 2021 is to not go so crazy when drinking alcohol, to not get too carried away.

T: Hahaha

J: I've already decided on it.

K: Don't you always say that?

J: No, no, no. Um, recently...was it on the 27th? After the live broadcast? I left afterwards with Tasai.

T: Oh, yeah.

J: We left together, we got a taxi. Then when I arrived home, it was about 2am, right? When I tried to get in my house, I didn't have my keys.

T, K: Eh?!

T: Really??

J: I didn't have my keys..what could I do? I think i actually left them somewhere before i arrived here, and I hadn't been drinking before that. But in the end, I went to a hotel in my neighborhood...like, please let me stay here, I'll pay so please let me stay. So, I woke up the next day and called the real estate agent to ask if they had a spare key..they didn't. They said they'd given all the keys to me. So, I called around a few other places, and by about lunch time I managed to get hold of a key. But I had to go and do a live radio broadcast in this kind of messed up state, so..

T: Eh?!

J: Well, I mean, it wasn't the fault of alcohol this time, but I have lost my pocket wifi before while I was drunk, and my glasses...and Im constantly telling dirty jokes while drunk...so this year..., well, I will drink alcohol, but Im not gonna go wild.

T: Hahaha

K: Thats impossible!

J, T: Hahaha

Kami: Joe san, Joe san...

J: Oh, Kami? What is it? Kami's here.

Kami: Joe, you've become a boring guy.

J, T: Hahaha

Kami: You're trying to play it safe.

J: No, no, no. Can I really carry on? Drinking and going crazy this year too?

Kami: You need to be free. Please don't hold yourself back.

J: Haha

T: When we were going home in the taxi, you said, 'I think I've messed up'...

J: I was doing a bit of self-reflecting.

T: Your true voice slipped out.

J: I think it did.

K: What? Why, what happened again?

T: Yeah, what was it again?

J: Well, I think it was me just going a bit wild. It felt like I got carried away.

T: You felt that in yourself?

J: Well, I do, don't I? When I drink alcohol?

K: Well, yeah.

J: Kaoru, we've done a lot of events together, right?

K: Yeah, most of the time I'm like, 'Joe, calm down!'

J: And Im supposed to be the moderator!

T: You change places!

J: Right!

K: Also, he had to read out things written in Katakana and stuff, but he couldn't read the difficult words*1

J: There are a few reasons for that. After I've had a drink, I can't read difficult kanji, and also I have bad eyesight. Katakana has loads of spaces in it, right?

T: Maybe we should have let Tasai do it.

T: Yeah, I should have done the reading.

J: Kanji just turns into clumps.

K: Ok, well, today...Tasai, could you get us started?

T: Yes, this is about the big match on last New Years Eve. Its boxing news. It was the WBO super flyweight title match between Ioka Kazuto and Tanaka Kōsei. Ioka won the match, but this news deals with a slightly different aspect. Ioka's tattoos were visible during the match. The boxing commission have said this is a violation of the rules, and are considering imposing a penalty. Questions have been arising on social media like, 'Isn't this a mistake?', and, 'What about individual freedom?' Did you watch the match, Kaoru?

K: No, I didn't, but I saw it on the news.

T: Yeah. And, Ioka had actually covered his tattoos with foundation to hide them before getting in the ring, but sweating made the foundation come off.

J: I see.

T: So, its become a bit of a talking point, what to think about this.

K: This isn't the first time he's done this, right? He covered his tattoos before in other fights?

T: Yeah, to stop the foundation coming off he...

K: But foundation?...can you really hide them with foundation?

J: Haha, yeah, maybe not. They are too solid. So, he went ino the ring without foundation this time?

T: No, he had it on, but it came off with sweat.

J: Wouldn't that happen anyway?

K: If it did, that means its come off everytime up to now.

J: Right? Its not like its only come off this time. Its hard to understands why the JBC are raising this problem only now?

T: Well, its in the rules. The rules for matches are...in the rulebook, Match management section 4, conditions for boxers article 86, it says for things that make spectators feel uncomfortable, such as tattoos...if a boxer has tattoos, they must not appear in the ring.

J: Oh, thats written?

T: Yes, thats written in the rules. There have been cases in the past of boxers getting tattoos surgically removed in order to be able to compete in the ring.

J: Im not sure about this. Feeling uncomfortable just by seeing a tattoo...?

K: Regular people do though, don't they?

J: Do they?

K: Not people like us here, regular people are different.

J: Haha, of course.

K: But its Japanese people...foreigners have seen tattoos as pretty normal for quite a long time.

J: Right. Their police even have tattoos.

K: But we havn't got there in Japan yet. They are still thought of as scary. Even me, if I see someone with tattoos walk in, I don't say anything to them, but I do notice and look at them if they have tattoos.

J: Well..

K: You look though, right?

J: Well, I would think 'oh, they have tattoos'.

K: Yeh, but you would say ????*2

J: Well...

K: You would!

J: Would I? But...this is boxing, right? The spectators have come to watch people hitting each other.

K: Well, yeah, thats right.

J: For example, if a kabuki actor suddenly revealed tattoos all over their body, I have a feeling it wouldn't go down well with people who are going to see traditional arts, but if they are going to see people punching each other, would they be that bothered about tattoos?

K: Its because the rules havn't changed since a long time ago.

J: Yeah. Hmm, Im not sure about this. What's it like overseas?

T: Its totally fine overseas.

J: Its ok, right?

K: They don't mind if foreigners have them.

J: Ah, foreign boxers with tattoos are allowed to fight in Japan?

T: Yes.

K: So I think this is good. It could change how we do things *3

J: Yeah, it creates a stir, because there are quite a lot of people who know about this old rule. Um, even at events and stuff (I MC at a lot of events), some guests are instructed to wear long sleeeves when they attend. This is what Japan is like with tattoos.

T: But I think I read somwhere that the NBA also has the rule to cover tattoos. Like, they will wear armbands and stuff to cover them.

K: Even in baseball, the Giants have banned facial hair.

J: Have they?

T: The Giants have an unwritten code, let me think who had a beard....do you remember Ogasawara Michihiro/Gatz?

J: Oh yeah, the left handed player?

T: Yeah, when he joined the Giants he shaved it all off etc. That type of thing still happens, even now. Have a look next time the Giants play, none of them have facial hair.

J: I don't think foreign players will like these rules that Japanese have. This seems like its against the Constitution. It really does.

Kami: Its discrimination, right?

J: Yes, I agree.

Kami: Nishinari people are sensitive to discrimination.

J: Yeah, I mean, if they are gonna have this rule, they should ban tattoos for everyone in boxing, but to say its ok for foreign boxers but not Japanese ones.. its a bit...

Kami: Its unconstitutional. Its discrimination.

J: Yeh, I think its discrimination. But looking at some of the comments, some say that although its written in the rules, it can't be helped these days.

Kami: Its not fair though, letting Ioka get this incredible win, and then afterwards saying, actually, no.

T: Yes, thats right.

Kami: When I was younger I won at pachinko..

J: Haha, all of a sudden..

Kami: I had quite a babyface, and would get mistaken for being underage. They never said anything to me when I lost...

T: But when you handed in your tickets they told you no because you're underage?

Kami: Yeah, yeah. Even though they said nothing to me when I was losing. Its like they come to stop you after you start winning.

T: I see.

Kami: They will take all the benefits, but when it starts to get unfavorable...I sense that unfairness.

T: Ah, yeh. Well, its true that the boxing commission already knew that Ioka had tattoos. And they asked him to take part.

J: Yeah. Its not like he got the tattoos right before this match.

T: Thats right. Incidentally, he got this particular tattoo in America in 2018, September, to show resovle and determination for his comeback fight. And this time, he has also added his son's name as if to say 'lets fight together'.

J: Oh, thats a nice meaning....Sue them!

T: Sue them?

J: Yes, Tokyo Sports should sue them.

T: Why just us? haha. We should together.

J: ???*4

K: I wonder how this will turn out though.

J: Yeah. Is Ioka following the boxing commission then?

T: He is still waiting to see what they decide.

J: Ah, ok.

T: He is still waiting for their judgment.

J: So like, it will depend on the level of punishment he gets.

K: They'll just say its the rules.

T: In that case, he might just go to America, if he can't fight any matches in Japan.

J: Well, yeah.

T: I think this would be a bigger problem if it happened outside the ring. But its happened within the ring. Its still a fact that tattoos are seen as scary in this culture.

K: It seems so to me, speaking as a person who has tattoos.

J: Thats what you have felt from experience?　Exactly.

K: But you could say that he knew this when he got the tattoos. He knew they would tell him to stop.

T: Like, boxers definitely understand this.

K: He knows it, but he is still appearing in the ring, so if he has determination and resolve, its great. If he doesn't, its no surprise if he gets complaints.

J, T: I see.

J: Well, considering he did try to hide it, but the covering just came off, I wonder what will happen. Its not like he can wear clothes over it, right?

K: He could have put tape on it.

J: Oh, right, you can hide it like that too?

T: Yeah, there might be something like skin coloured tape.

J: Kami, can we have a last word from you on this?

Kami: Well, whatever the rules, making them only apply to Japanese is strange, right?

J: Well, yes, thats true. We'll have to keep a look out for what happens with this from now on.

K: Well, yeh.

T: To see how it develops, yeh.

K: Yeah. Kami seemed a bit lacking in vitality today, didn't he?

J: Yeah, he seems down. Kami, did something happen to you at new year time?

Kami: No, no, Im fine! Don't I sound it?

K: You sound like you are lacking a bit of punch.

J: With it being boxing, you'd expect him to have more 'punch'.

K: He just seemed a bit...regular.

J: Yeah.

Kami: Regular? haha.

K: He's laughing, haha.

T, J: Haha

J: The staff are making me laugh.

K: Ok, shall we finish here for today?

J: Yes

K: Ok, please subscribe. Thank you very much.

*1, 3 Not sure this is right.

*2, 4 Couldn't make out

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #tfoe #kaoru #薫

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steepgan · 4 years

Text

someone dear (ii) - d. ragnvindr x f!reader

PART I - PART II - PART III

diluc pov... im practicing writing for this fic im writing so sorry if its BAD... also TW BL//D ..!! hmm i definitely drew inspiration from pride and prejudice while writing this LMFAOOO um <3 sry jane austen for ruining ur book >,< also i did not edit this either um.

Diluc had always known that [Name] was committed to money, if not her job. He didn’t know why. It was obviously something very personal to [Name], and he didn’t have enough time to meddle into his employee’s affairs. If he questioned her about it, she might’ve felt compelled to tell him. Or she’d request him to pay her for the secret.

He was more than willing to give [Name] a little money. She was a hard worker as well as a young woman of excellent tastes. Given her personality, he would have thought her as a bartender for Cat’s Tail—a rival of his with excellent drinks that was taking Mondstadt’s wine industry by storm. But [Name] was here, working diligently with the same old grin on her face.

There would be some days where she’d request the bard to play a somber song because she thought it was fitting for her mood. Diluc’d overheard her complaining to Charles about getting a cut on her hand from picking up shards of glass.

She worked so frequently that Angel’s Share wouldn’t be Angel’s share without her. Perhaps she’d been saving up for something big, like a trip. Diluc could see her roaming around the seven nations with no clear destination. She had a wanderer’s soul, really. If she ever left, would Diluc be able to find a replacement?

Certainly he would.

[Name] was just a worker, and it was Diluc’s duty to see to it that he had excellent employees. And if she was good and brave, then the rest of the city could be good and brave.

“Charles,” Diluc called out. The Abyss Order was still at large. Tonight he’d roam the city streets to keep the people safe. “I can take tonight’s shift for you.”

The bartender bowed graciously. Days off for him were very rare. “Thank you, Master Diluc,” he said before casting a side glance at [Name], “although have you thought about taking [Name]’s shift instead? She’s been working lots lately…”

[Name], who’d overheard them, lifted her head up from the cupboard beneath the bar she was cleaning. She hit her head on the counter and wobbled over. Scratching the crown of her head, she chuckled nervously. “Oh, I’m all right! I’d be happy to work a little extra anyway.”

Diluc furrowed his brows. It’d be better if he had the tavern to himself so his identity wouldn’t be exposed. Unfortunately, [Name] was such a good worker that she’d seen him come back into the tavern after a good fight one too many times. Firing her was out of the question because she did her job well, and it would be terrible of him to get rid of her because of his bad blood with the knights.

However, [Name] didn’t really care, which was good. He didn’t give that raise to her for nothing. Diluc said, “[Name], are you sure?”

“No worries, Master Diluc,” she said.

And then it happened to be that night where Diluc stumbled back to Angel’s Share with his arm noticeably limp and his black clothes damp with blood.

It was just [Name] sitting at the bar, flipping through a magazine of catalogs Diluc couldn’t be bothered with. His arm was searing with pain—to the point where he could feel nothing at all. Numbness. It wasn’t too bad; he’d dealt with worser injuries.

He considered himself lucky enough to find Angel’s Share in the first place, even with the lanterns lighting up the road. Diluc had to avoid all the usual patrols of the Favonius Knights.

Diluc was blinking through sweat, trying to register the bright lights of inside the tavern. Everything was so spotty and brilliant with gold explosions. He shouldn’t have decorated the inside so lavishly. [Name]’s head jolted up at the sight of him. Had she been falling asleep on the job? How unprofessional… but there were no people in here, so Diluc didn’t care.

With the decorations so shiny behind her, she looked like a fancy chandelier. Like the one at Dawn Winery. So shimmery.

[Name] rushed to Diluc’s side. “Master Diluc? Are you okay? You’re—you’re severely injured!”

“I’m fine,” he gritted out.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s not the end of the world, is it?” Diluc snapped. [Name] was taken aback. He sighed. “Sorry. Just leave me be. I’ll go upstairs and—”

His world started spinning. [Name] caught him.

She looked frantic. “I’m not the best at wrapping up wounds, but I know a trick or two from Lisa!” Diluc’s disdain must’ve shown because [Name] immediately added, “I know she’s a part of the knights, but healing is healing. Let’s get you to the bar.”

[Name] was probably curious. She might’ve wanted to know what Diluc was doing out at night and how he’d gotten himself injured. Diluc tugged himself away from [Name]’s grasp. “No,” he said. He could heal himself. He could handle it on his own. “I got it.”

“Let me do this,” she insisted, “temporarily.”

Diluc had always been alone. He worked on missions by himself. He protected the city of Mondstadt by himself. The Knights of Favonius were no good, really. It was up to him alone. Just Diluc. It's always been just Diluc. It was just Diluc when he left the knights, and it was just Diluc when he insisted that Inspector Eroch take his father’s death more seriously.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Leave me alone. Pretend you saw nothing.”

I’m injured, he thought. I need medical assistance. I know some medicine. No, I don’t. There’s painkillers upstairs. Yeah… painkillers upstairs.

[Name] made up her mind and grabbed Diluc’s good arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re very hurt. And I know you told me to leave you alone, but you look like you’re in pain. I can’t do much, but at least let me help you just for a second.”

No, I’m doing just spiffy! Diluc wanted to say. But that wouldn’t help his case. He’d gone through worse alone. An arm cut was nothing compared to his past. This wouldn’t kill him, but it hurt so, so bad. He’d live, though, and as long as Diluc had all his limbs intact by the end of the day, he’d still protect Mondstadt.

[Name] took advantage of Diluc’s internal struggle to sit him down at the bar. She ran to the back to grab supplies before coming back out. She dropped a pair of fine scissors, swore, and then picked it back up. [Name] forced Diluc’s coat off of him, tossing it aside.

Diluc had seen [Name] eye his nice coat from time to time, and he had half a mind to give it to her just for fun. But she paid no mind to it now. Blood was smeared over his arm.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “It matches the color of your hair.”

“Thanks,” he said. The pain spiked. “I don’t suppose you want financial compensation for taking care of me.”

She shook her head. [Name] is good and brave, Diluc had thought then. She snipped a certain length of a linen bandage she’d brought out from the back. “I’m still working within work hours. The usual pay is enough for me.”

Diluc had a lot to say.

“But I’m not the best at wrapping wounds,” [Name] admitted. “Promise me you’ll see a professional after this. Hopefully one of your personal assistants?”

“Okay,” he said.

“This might sting,” she warned. She dabbed a clean cloth into alcohol before wiping it gently over his arm. She held his arm gently, her cool hand keeping him steady while she cleaned away the germs and infection. Compared to the searing pain of the cut, the alcohol was nothing.

I don’t like this, Diluc thought. [Name] knows too much. I’m no longer alone. I don’t like this at all.

The night was silent, only filled with [Name] working with her limited materials to patch Diluc up. It was awkward, and the tension was as thick as burnt steak.

For his pride and for the livelihood of Mondstadt, [Name] could not know that he was protecting the city at night. She was too friendly with the knights. She talked way too much. She could accidentally spill Diluc’s secrets. This was not good.

“Have you ever thought about working at the winery itself?” Diluc proposed. If firing her wouldn’t do the trick, then maybe sending her away from the city would.

[Name] looked perplexed. “Why?”

Diluc tried to imagine [Name] as a maid at his winery, keeping the interior clean. [Name] could drag a drunkard outside no problem, but could she clean the fine, delicate decorations that made the inside of the winery so neat? Could she be happy working there? Frankly, Diluc couldn’t imagine [Name] as someone who’d enjoy working at the winery at all.

“You wouldn’t make a good maid,” he said out of the blue.

“What?” [Name] furrowed her brows. “I’d make a great maid. I’d be the best maid ever.”

“Prove it,” he said. “You should work at the winery. It’s a bit of a distance, but I could pay for your travel fare.”

“Same wage?”

“Same wage.”

[Name]’s fingers held the bandage as she began to wrap it around his arm. She worked quickly with the skill of a bartender who had plenty of customers and little time. Her touch danced over his skin, and he was fighting the rising urge to blush.

“Thank you, Master Diluc, but I’m okay. I like working here. I’d imagine it’s more fun,” she said. “If it’s the same wage, I might as well enjoy being here in the city while working.”

“You care about fun?” Diluc was surprised. Given the last six months, he thought all she cared about was small talk and money. “All right, then.”

“I can’t believe you got hurt,” she said. [Name] almost sounded mad. “It’s not so bad to ask others for help when you need it.”

You should be mad at me for other things.

“I can do things alone,” Diluc said. “I don’t exactly need anyone, really. This is just a one time thing. I could have healed myself on the second floor, but you had to interfere—”

“Master Diluc,” [Name] said, “I don’t know what failed you or who let you down, but we do need people.”

Diluc was growing cross. His ugly pride poked his chest. “I know that.”

People needed each other! It was how civilizations came about, and it was how empires fell. That was why he protected Mondstadt. That was why he prowled the streets. He did it because the people needed someone competent, and he did it because the knights would let the people down just as they did he.

People needed him.

“Dependency isn’t bad,” [Name] further added. “One day, you will find people who helped you, and you will help them in return. It’s only natural to need people, Master Diluc. We all need people. We all need company.”

“Too much dependency is—” The pain ran up his arm.

“Well, of course,” [Name] said. “Independence is a good thing, too. It’s highly sought after. Maybe being a lone wolf is exactly up your ally, Mr. Diluc, but the idea of a lone wolf is somewhat of an oxymoron. Wolves always prefer to travel in a pack.”

Do I really want to be alone all my life? Diluc thought. “I guess you’re right,” he said instead. “You have my thanks.”

“You pay me,” she pointed out cheerfully, and Diluc’s heart panged.

“[Name].” The words left his mouth before he could even think. “Why do you work so hard? Is there something you work toward?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “Being financially stable has always been a dream of mine. As well as putting enough food on the table and buying all these nice clothes.”

Diluc was surprised. “No family?”

“I do have, but they’re in Liyue as of now. We talk occasionally, but I like to live my own life how I like it.” [Name] nodded. “If I work for anything at all, I’d have to say I work for myself. I like working here, and I work because the journey is just as fun as the destination. A cozy retirement is not worth enjoying if one didn’t work hard to get there. Is there someone or something you work for, Master Diluc?”

Many gods ran through his mind. Deities upon deities. Alters upon alters.

“Mondstadt and its citizens,” Diluc responded. “The knights are the definition of inefficient. I clear up a few enemies on the streets sometimes”— he’d realized he essentially spilled his secret hobby to [Name]—“but it’s nothing big.”

“Take pride, Master Diluc,” [Name] said. Had she figured it out? Diluc felt small underneath her working fingertips. “I take it you’re a nocturnal vigilante?”

Diluc swore internally. “I suppose.”

“So did you choose the name Darknight Hero? You’re the talk of the town.”

It was good that the people were romanticizing his adventures. It gave them a sense of peace and normalcy. However, the name was absolutely atrocious. “I don’t like that name,” Diluc said.

“What do you prefer they call you, then?”

Preferably, nothing. Diluc did not do this for attention. He was supposed to be one with the shadows. But [Name] made him feel seen. He felt exposed to some terrible light.

Diluc had to remember that [Name] was an employee under him. She was one of the many citizens he had to protect. She shouldn’t be wrapping up his arm like this. Diluc should be writhing in pain alone upstairs with [Name] none the wiser.

Her touch was soft. Her fingertips barely touched the surface of his skin. Her hands were no longer cool but warm and alive. She took care of him so gently that Diluc forgot he was a weapon and felt like a cherished object.

For someone who claimed she wasn’t proficient in wound-wrapping, she did a decent temporary job. Of course, a visit to Diluc’s private doctor was still necessary.

Though her company was nice, Diluc was accustomed to flying solo.

“You must really love Mondstadt,” [Name] said. “You’re a very good man.”

Diluc opened his mouth and then closed it.

[Name] finished wrapping his wounds. The bandage was snug around his arm, and Diluc found comfort in its presence. It was far too bad someone would take it off later to properly inspect Diluc’s cut. “Well, that's about it for my medical expertise which is ultimately none.”

“Thank you,” Diluc said.

“I would advise you to return to your winery, but it’s nighttime, and there’s monsters prowling about,” [Name] said. “I don’t doubt your athletic abilities, but you’re hurt. You should maybe eat something and rest. Early in the morning you can leave.”

[Name] was in no position to tell Diluc what to do. Diluc was her employer, her—Diluc looked at the time. [Name] was technically done with work. Technically speaking, Diluc wasn’t the boss of her as of right now.

And Diluc knew that [Name] was simply offering suggestions. Good suggestions. His pride as a hero told him to refuse and make the trek back to the winery by himself. But his reason pulled him back to her.

“Would you like something to eat, Master Diluc?”

“All right.”

Soon, Diluc’s arm was noticeably better. After consulting a legitimate professional, Diluc took great care of his arm and trained it back to health. His days were moreover the same after that. He swept the city streets and night and returned to his winery every so often, as he couldn’t let sales go down while he was playing hero.

Though, what kind of hero gets injured? Diluc thought to himself bitterly.

[Name] had called him a good man; well, of course, he was. The knights were anything but good and competent. But was he a good hero? What sort of hero spat swears and curses at the knights? What sort of hero harbored a deep, festering hatred for the very institution that supposedly protected the people?

She was the only one who’d touched him like that. She touched him so softly when wrapping him up that Diluc felt more a man than a hero. It wasn’t good. Diluc needed his priorities straight. He was grateful for [Name] and for that night, and this new feeling of gratefulness was lodged in his throat.

He’d offered to financially compensate, but [Name] turned the offer down. She was weird. She salivated at the thought of money, but when Diluc put more money on the table, [Name] refused to eat.

Diluc was not used to feeling owed to anyone but himself. He had a feeling that he’d feel more gratefulness to others in the future, and that scared him. If they were as stubborn as [Name], then how would he pay them back?

Did he need to pay her back? Was it only natural for people to rely on each other? Did he always have to be alone? Could he really move forward without the feeling of solidarity?

It was all right to be alone. But it was not so bad to rely on other people once in a while.

Some days, he’d see [Name] feeding a dog leftovers through the window of his tavern. She’d be crouched over, whistling and patting the ground to get the dog’s attention. The dog would wag his tail delightfully and trot over to her. And Diluc had half a mind to warn [Name] about infection, but the dog seemed awfully fond of her.

Then there were some days where she was so happy that you could clean the tavern free of charge. While money was a prospect to her, she seemed to act on her own whims and happiness. If that happiness was to clean the tavern without pay, then she would.

She was strange. An enigma. She was the most magical a human being could get.

Diluc and Charles were once sitting at the bar while [Name] was dusting the nooks and crannies of the stairway, humming to herself.

“She ought to be happier more often.”

Charles raised a brow at Diluc’s words. Could the impassive Diluc be feeling love? “Why?”

“So she can clean my tavern for free more often.”

“Sure, Master Diluc.”

PART I - PART II - PART III

#jane austen from the dead reading this bad rendition:#diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact #fluff

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cityofimagines · 4 years

Text

My Angel – JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: your relationship with JJ is still relatively new, but that doesn’t stop you from showing just how much your care about him after his has an episode with his dad.

A/N: this popped into my brain randomly because im in love with fluffy jj, and jj in general. i literally just wanna give him the biggest hug in the world 🥺 this is also my first real obx imagine so lmk what you guys think!!

warnings: mentions of abuse

word count: 1841

It was currently a perfect day in the Outer Banks. 86 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, on your way to meet your friends on the dock. You finally found a time when everyone was off work simultaneously for the first time this week. John B’s boat was practically rotting from not being used in five days.

You fast walked down the hill to get to the meeting spot. As you got closer, you noticed most of the pogues plus Sarah Cameron, the newest addition to the group thanks to John B, all chatting.

“Hey guys!” You exclaimed as you neared them at the end of the dock.

“Hey (y/n)!” Kie smiled and ran up to give you a short hug.

“What’s up (y/n)?” John B asked, giving you a nod.

You shook your head. “Not much. Just excited to finally see you guys!” Which earned smiles from the rest of the group. Everyone was clad in swimsuits, t shirts, and flip flops, signaling that they were more than ready to get this day going. But before you could, you noticed something major was off. “Where’s JJ?” You asked looking around for your boyfriend.

“We were gonna ask you the same question.” Pope said.

“That’s so weird. We texted earlier and he was obviously down to come...I assumed he’d be the first one here.” You continued.

“Who knows maybe he’s just running a little late. It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.” Kie smiled and put a hand to your arm. “We can wait a few more minutes.”

You had been friends with all of the pogues for about two years now, pretty much since the week you moved here. However, you and JJ had only been dating for less than a month, so this relationship was still fairly new. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was having doubts about you or your relationship. After that thought passed you wondered if something bad happened to him. JJ is known for having not the cleanest record, much to your dismay, so you couldn’t help but think he was in trouble. As more time passed, the more negative overthinking you did.

You checked your phone for any sign of him, but the only notifications present were from Apple telling you to update your software for the millionth time. The rest of the group had descended into a random conversation, but finally after 10 minutes of waiting for him you decided to speak up.

“Hey guys? I think I might go look for him…” You trailed off, looking in the other direction towards the rest of the island.

“It is pretty weird...JJ isn’t one to miss out on days like these.” John B added. “You want us to come with you?”

You smiled at his offer, but declined. “No it’s fine honestly. You guys go have fun. Don’t let me ruin your day.”

“You could never.” Kie said. “You’re sure?”

You nodded. “I promise it’s okay. I’m just scared something happened. I’m gonna go look for him and maybe we’ll meet up with you guys later if we can.”

Since your relationship with JJ was still so new, you were still learning how to manage spending time with him alone and spending time with the rest of your friends. You felt bad for leaving them because you hadn’t hung out all week, but something was pulling you towards JJ in that moment.

“Sounds good.” Kie finished. “Good luck and hopefully we’ll see you later!”

“Thanks guys.” You smiled one last time before turning to walk back towards where you came from. Your car was parked in a lot close by, so it didn’t take long for you to get in there and gather your thoughts. Where could JJ be? He couldn’t be at work, because he’s been working with Pope and his dad lately, so obviously if Pope was at the dock JJ would be too. The only other place he could be would be...his house?

The second that thought dawned on you, your face sank. His house.

JJ opened up about his home life to you pretty quickly into your relationship. You had known each other for so long before that he felt like he could trust you explicitly. He told you all about how his mom left when he was young, and how his dad is a disgusting physically and emotionally abusive alcoholic. This revelation led to a few tears and more than a few sleepovers at your house.

You backed out of the lot and sped down the streets as fast as you possibly could without it being able to technically count as speeding. Your heart was now pounding at the thought that something bad must have happened today involving his dad.

After a too fast car ride you came up on his street. You parked across the street in front of his house, not even daring to go near the driveway because who knows what his dad would do. You weren’t even completely sure his dad knew you existed.

You felt crazy walking around to the back door dressed in a bikini with nothing but an oversized t-shirt covering you, a messy bun sitting on top of your head, sunglasses behind your ears, and cheap flip flops.

Once you got up to the door, your hand hovered in front of it in a knocking position. Suddenly you were terrified. What if JJ wasn’t even here? What if you were just being a stupid worried clingy girlfriend? What if his dad answered? What would you even do in that situation?

A crazy thought came over you and you decided to forego knocking and reach out for the doorknob instead. You turned it quietly and the door clicked open. You closed it behind you and took a look inside at the house you had only seen a couple times before. Beer bottles lined every open surface. Clothes and dishes were strewn everywhere, medicine bottles sat on the kitchen counters. You bit your lip to keep from tearing up at the sight. The fact that this was the only place the boy who had your heart had to call home broke you.

You walked into the living room and jumped a mile when you saw an adult figure on the couch. Luke Maybank, luckily asleep. Still no sign of JJ.

You walked deeper in the house, down the hall to where you knew JJ’s room was. The door was cracked slightly, and you held your ear up to it. Your heart broke even more when the sound of crying filled your ears. You opened the door and it creaked, causing your boyfriend’s head to snap up in your direction.

“JJ…” You began.

“(Y/N)? What the hell are you doing here-” He said, cutting you off.

No words came out of your mouth for a minute as you took in the sight. He was hunched over sitting on his bed, clutching his side. His shaggy blonde hair looked more oily than normal most likely due to his hands running through it excessively. He had a black eye and a split lip, with random patches of dried blood around his mouth. You had heard about his dad’s horrible parenting, but nothing could have prepared you from seeing its effects in real life for the first time.

Finally you came to your senses. “I was looking for you.” You started. “We were all waiting for you on the dock and when you didn’t show up I just had a feeling something was wrong…God JJ why the fuck didn’t you call me? I would’ve come as soon as I cou-”

“Shh baby. It’s okay. I’m okay.” He said. “C’mere.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes as you took all of three steps towards him. He wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you in. Your head rested on his.

“It’s not okay!” You cried out, his hair muffling your voice. He shushed you and started rubbing your back.

“I’m fine sweetheart. You shouldn’t even be here anyways-”

“Will you shut up?” You said, the question coming out harsher than you meant. You quickly pulled away and looked down at him. “Shit- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I’m just fucking frustrated that you have to go through this. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

JJ reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen onto your cheek. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I promise I’m fine. Go back out with everyone. I’ll catch up later.” He said.

“No.” You shook your head. “We’re going to my house. I’m fixing you up.”

“(y/n)...”

“Either you come with me or I’ll help you here.” You gave him an ultimatum.

He sighed and his head fell forwards on your stomach. He was still sitting on his bed and you stood in between his legs. You grabbed his hand in yours. “Please baby. Let me take care of you.”

“Okay. Your house it is.” You helped him up and walked him out to your car. You even helped him into the passenger seat, much to his dismay. Seeing him like this had you seething inside, you couldn’t help but want to love on him with everything you had.

A short drive to your house later, you walked inside and told him to sit down on the couch. Your parents were both at work and you assumed your older sister was with her own friends. You ran to the bathroom to get bandaids, rubbing alcohol, and an ice pack for his eye.

You sat down with everything and began tending to his cuts. You felt like crying again, but reminded yourself to be strong for him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked after a few moments of silence.

He shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. He’s just an asshole.”

“I wish I could do something more to stop it.”

“You do enough. I don’t deserve you.” He said quietly.

“Stop it. If anything I don’t deserve you.” You replied. You took the ice pack off his face for a minute to look into his eyes fully. “You’re the best part of my life JJ Maybank. When you’re hurting so am I.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “My angel.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso delicately so as to not hurt him. You weren’t sure if words could adequately describe what you were feeling regarding JJ, so you just sat in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you after a few moments.

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with all of this. I hate making you upset.”

“Not your fault.” You whispered into his shirt. “I would do anything for you. You know that.”

He pushed your head up to his and planted a passionate kiss to your lips. He pulled away and rested his forehead to yours. You ran a gentle hand up and down his side, feeling him get chills as you traced the muscles that hid underneath his soft skin.

“You wanna sleep?” You asked.

“Honestly...yeah.” He said quietly.

You patted his legs twice signaling for him to stand up. You switched positions so you were sitting behind him.

Once he got comfortable in your lap, you started running your hands through his hair and on his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed.

“I got you sunshine. You’re safe with me.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks headcanon #jj headcanon #jj maybank headcanon #dating jj maybank #john b #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #jj fluff #jj x reader fluff #jj maybank fluff

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jamestrmtx · 4 years

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Three | sans. (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)

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As if being blessed by Lady Luck herself, the owner of the establishment calls for Jerry to tend to unloading inventory, forcing him to end his glare on Sans and move his attention elsewhere. His internal conflict manifests itself through physical means, as he stays frozen in place to settle between keeping his job and minding his business with the monster. With another call from his boss, louder and firmer this time in comparison to the friendly reminder from earlier, he clenches his jaw and loosens it up with a scoff. "You're damn lucky the place's packed," he says, looking back towards Sans again. He takes a stray receipt from the counter, takes a pen, and scribbles something on it, handing it over to the monster when he's done. "Take this, and stay the hell away from my family."

"So like you're doing?" Sans counters, snickering.

"Screw off."

The man leaves him be with those last two words and another worker takes his place behind the register, looking fatigued from presumably having to deal with all the work at the back by herself. The expression on her face says it all: she overheard only some parts of the conversation, and was either curious to know more about it or misinterpreting the situation altogether, though she doesn't mention a word about it. Rather, she picks herself up and greets him with a smile. "Good afternoon, sir. For here, or to-go?"

That simple question settles a puzzle in Sans's mind; given he barely knew the human waiting for him at the table, he couldn't make any rash decisions, so he considers all the options through and through. He could make an easy escape from meeting with Jerry again simply by choosing to-go, yet he still wanted to talk with (Y/N) about the subject of Frisk and the Underground. Not only that, but ordering to-go without informing them about it wasn't something normal for how much they knew each other; rather, it would seem rude to decide without giving the human a chance to speak their thoughts on the subject. And if he invited them to eat their orders out elsewhere, it would look wrong; either like he really did mean his vaguely flirty texts, or that he didn't feel comfortable enough with them around.

"Sir?"

"To-go, please," he blurts out, it being the first thing on his mind.

The monster tells her both orders and is then asked to wait. He does so by walking off back to the table, where Frisk's parent still waits at, either completely oblivious of what went on at the register, or masking it based on their calm look and nonchalant sitting position. Their expression takes a turn when they meet with his irises, and they speak up when he's finally close enough for them to make their words hushed. "That was my ex-husband, wasn't it?" they ask, smile strained and brows furrowed. "Could we, uh… take our orders-"

"To-go?" he intervenes, chuckling.

Their smile loses some of its tension, and they let out a laugh. "How did you know?"

He sits with them at the chair across from theirs, nudging himself to an angle where he shields them from the ordering counter. "Between you saying he stopped visiting and that he didn't show up when Frisk went missing, I'd say you're not exactly head over heels for 'im anymore."

"Far from it," they reply, sighing. "It's just plain ridiculous for him to be so worked up about this now. He had his time ages ago." They rock their fingers against the table's surface and frown, looking deep in thought. "What did he say, anyway? ...I tried not to look, but I still saw when he got all angry at you."

"It's related to what I want to talk to you about. Though I'm not sure how he got that info so fast."

Their eyes spark and widen, the hand on the table clenching the edge in expectancy. "So he already knows all about it?"

"Dunno if all, but it looks like he's already dug a lil' bit into my past."

A buzz from the human's phone brings a halt to the conversation. He looks to where the sound comes from before taking a look at their expression, clearly vexed by the name of the sender. Their hand trembles and he notices how they have to tighten their grip on the device to prevent its fall.

"Jerry?" he asks.

They nod. "Excuse me for a moment."

Sans nods back and observes as they stand up from their seat and walk off to a corner of the diner. The switch in the human's expression is almost immediate, changing from curiosity to shock the second they click on the message. The phone meets the floor and ends up making a noise far too loud for it to come out unscathed, results of a tiled floor and the device landing screen-first against it. Still, they don't seem to care over that particular matter and stare at the floor with those same, wide eyes, a look that's carried back to him.

"You…"

Their words come off in a hoarse whisper, and they have to scratch their throat to continue with, "Is this true? Y- You gave Frisk a death threat as a warning for… for what, exactly?" Their voice's louder now, surroundings seeming to blur into nothing given how little they care over being heard by those closer around. "They didn't hurt you, so why did you threaten to hurt them?" Their shocked expression changes to anger, a deep glare that refuses to falter even as they take a step closer, ignoring the phone laying on the floor. "And what did he mean when he said your job was to kill humans? What…. What did Asgore order you to do, and how come you're still allowed to run freely -- as you please? How much of this is true, and how much of this isn't?

They take a pause to pick up their phone, another buzz being heard from it. The screen's cracked from end to end, yet they don't seem to mind over that either and tear up when they read the latest message. "Is… Is that why Toriel had to leave out of the blue? Was she expecting something like this to happen to her, too?" The human's voice breaks, though they recover with another scratch of their throat. "Did she also hurt Frisk? How… How am I supposed to even be anywhere near you when you used to be a heartless man who followed ordered regardless of-"

"Please, ca-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down."

They huff, regaining some of their composure through it. "You have the next few minutes to explain why the hell your job as a sentry involved killing people regardless of their actions."

"(L/N), please liste-"

"Tell me."

They cross their arms and keep their glare on him. The phone continues to buzz, but they ignore it, all of their attention now being focused on Sans. An excruciatingly long beat of silence passes before he finally relents with a huff. They sit down, and he sits across from them, gaze facing theirs again. "What specifically do ya wanna know about?"

"What your job as a sentry implied. The rest can wait depending on what terms we're left with after this."

"Alright." He tries to smile in hopes of making their anger soften, though it's a vain attempt; a bad one, more specifically, taking into account how much angrier they get. "But could you promise ya won't freak out?"

"I'm afraid I can't. It all depends, really. Being told you used to throw death threats at innocent people doesn't exactly make me trust you any more than what I did a few seconds ago."

"But-"

"Order 44!"

He lets out a breath and proceeds to stand up. "Talk to you inna second? We can go to the food court and find a place there to eat."

"...Sure," they reply, a smile finally managing to return. "And thanks for helping me back there. I don't think I'd be able to tolerate Jerry coming up to me now of all times."

"Anytime," he says, winking. It's then that he realizes what he's done, an action made purely out of custom, though thankfully, they only show shock at having their thanks accepted rather than shrugged off.

Hopefully, his conversation with them wouldn't turn out as bad as he anticipated it to.

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The time to confess over his own sins arrives when both the human and himself are finished eating. Only his drink's left resting on the table, theirs already long gone with how quick they downed it after the meal. Had their choice been alcohol, he would've imagined them tipsy, given they barely gave themselves much time to consume it or so much as enjoy its taste and temperature. (Y/N) begins by asking how much of what Jerry had texted was true and over what actions the skeleton took when meeting with Frisk at the Underground.

The first few questions are simple enough and pass as smooth as his choice of drink, up until they ask, "So what exactly are you guilty of? Frisk told me to be careful around you, but in a fun sort of sense. And… And not because of you being dangerous or ever causing them any harm."

He breathes in, feeling obliged to brace himself for what he's about to say.

"I'm… guilty of not helping them out as much as I should've," Sans says, setting his drink aside. He already feels a tightness in his chest, incrementing when he continues with, "And there was one point where I might've come off too strong… Where I quite frankly told them to watch their back around me, and that I'd be there to handle the situation if it ever got outta hand."

"What kind of situation?" (Y/N) asks, a change in tone already present.

"Hurting my kind." He sighs out a deep breath, letting himself find some sort of ease amongst the ache building up in his rib cage. It was too soon to be enemies with the human sitting across from him, and to be frank, he didn't even want to be on negative terms with them, either. He simply wanted to have another friend; another person he could look forward to spending his time with more often. "I... warned them about what would happen if they dared to do anything bad to other people, but in the least humane wording possible." He takes another sip from his drink, feeling his non-existent throat turn sore. "Frankly, and just like Jerry already told you: it's all true. I, well... I threatened Frisk with death, even though they hadn't harmed anyone during their journey down there."

"So it's all true? Even the part about your job being to basically hunt after humans, no matter what?" They stand up from their seat, hands slamming over the table on par with their shout. In contrast to the ire he anticipated from them, he sees the same shock from before in their eyes and an open mouth reveals their disbelief. "I… Y- You... You're not joking, aren't you?!"

Thankfully, they're both sitting at a table too far away for anyone around to take immediate notice of the human's reaction. That allows the monster to breathe out again and reply with, "It's the raw truth, cross my soul," he says, meeting with their eyes. "As a judge and main sentry for the Underground, I was meant to treat everyone equally, no matter their age, race, or any of that stuff. I judged based on actions; on the person's background and intentions. So when it was time for me to meet with a new person, I went all out, no matter the costs or repercussions of my actions, or the feelings I had about what I was about to do." Sans takes a long pause, needing some time to recollect himself. "To be brief, that was the job assigned to me, and one I was meant to fulfill no matter how that would affect my relationship with that new person I crossed paths with."

"Wh- Why?" they blurt, the anger he expected finally showing through. Still, they sit down, avoiding unwanted attention from other people. "Why did Asgore come up with that idea, a- and why did you go along with it? Why… Was there no other option? Or did neither of you two ever bother searching for one?" A wet gaze greets him when he makes eye contact with the human again, conflicting with their scowl and sharp, furrowed gaze. "Are all of you guys like this? H- How many of you are innocent, and how many of you hurt my child? Are Toriel and MK the only ones I can trust? Because if I'm going to follow along with what Frisk's told me so far, th- the only monsters that they've mentioned without any reluctance have been those two. They... They always freeze up every time I ask them about any other monster they made friends with." Their voice begins to shake and a few tears spill from their eyes. "I… I'm sorry if this seems like too much, b- But I need to know, Sans, I… I need to know who hurt them, and what I can do to protect them. I need to be strict, and I- I need to make up for those two months I wasn't able to be there for them."

Sans.

The human has been calling him 'mister Serif' for a good while now.

Out of all the possible ways and times they could've said his actual, first name, and it had to be during a moment of anger and confusion. He tries not to acknowledge just how bitter and dry his name had come out of their mouth and instead focuses on lending out a hand to them, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. He drags the chair a bit closer to them and hovers his body over the table standing between them, placing a hand on the human's shoulder and snapping them out of their spiral.

"(Y/N), please just... Just breathe, and calm down for a moment," he mutters, making them face his gaze, stern and sober. "This's why I wanna tell you everythin' bit by bit. There's a lot more to the story, and I know you wanna be a good parent for Frisk, so please, take a breath and hear me out. I won't ask you to forgive me, but for your time to listen to what I have to say, instead." He almost flinches when their hand touches the one he'd placed over their shoulder, though he combats that feeling by looking away for a quick moment to recollect his thoughts. "We have a whole history explaining why things worked at the Underground the way they did until recently," he continues. "And even though I know that doesn't mean all of our actions are justified, we still had our reasons, just as your kind -- your ancestors -- did for sealing us underground."

They let go of his hand, a subtle action that tells him it's time to let them go. He does just that and sits back down on his chair, taking another sip from the drink on his side of the table to combat the sour taste forming in his tongue. "I know I have absolutely no right in telling you to calm down anymore and that I shouldn't've even said it the first time. But I still want you to listen, so that you can help Frisk establish their new life with the other monsters at the Surface; with all the friends they made at the Underground, but also by knowing what some of those friends did and just who of us you can entrust their safety to." He offers his hand out to them, letting a smile ease out the grim aftertaste of his words. "So, whaddya say? Wanna hear me out? I promise to be honest with you, so long as you can promise to hear me and my kind out, and learn more 'bout our choices in the past."

"I…"

That's the only word he can hear from them as they stare at his hand, a wary glance being directed at it. "Could we hug it out again? I, well... still don't trust shaking your hand after what Frisk told me about you."

Though he hesitates for a second, he gives in with a grin and a nod. "Sure thing," he replies, chuckling. "C'mere, pal."

Sans stands up, and (Y/N) does the same.

They lean down to his height and let their arms sneak around his back, pulling him in for a second hug in just one day; on his first day meeting the human in person and on his first week here at the Surface, to be more exact. That same gentleness from before reaches his soul, enveloping him with a strong sense of safety, serenity, and warmth, despite the circumstances of it all. It was of no doubt that the person hugging him cared greatly for Frisk's happiness, almost just as much as they did for Frisk's safety. That shows through how willing they were to listen to him, how quickly they regained composure, and how welcoming their hug is, almost as if they were offering him a second chance to hear him out -- and just by the feeling of that hug alone.

"Thanks for being patient with me," he mutters, still kept in the hug. "I promise I'll try to provide you with as much information as I can." He lets go and finally stares at them again. "That sounds good to ya? Or are ya bored of me already?"

Tension eases out as the human lets a laugh burst through. "Sounds good," they reply, smiling. "And don't worry. I… I'm not bored of you yet -- Far from it, actually."

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And that's it for this week!

I'm still trying to figure out a good publishing schedule, but updates will continue to be weekly on Saturdays as usual, with the exception of double updates. :-)

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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league-of-thots · 4 years

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The Summoning

Pairing: dabi x reader x hawks

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: NONCON/DUBCON, blood play, dp, sacrificial summoning, mind manipulation, angels/demons/magic, gore, branding

A/N: So this was supposed to be a short little fic.... but thats not how it turned out, but im happy that it came out this way. I think its much better than what I originally had. Uh, please read the warnings because this has some things which could definitely be triggering.

thanks to @lady-bakuhoe, @ikinabi, and @marilla-eldriana for listening to me talk my ass off about it LMAO

other tags: @yaoyorozuwrites, @dee-madwriter

You were beyond upset, tonight wasn’t supposed to be a night where you were heading into a bar on your own, dressed up for a date cut early, and freshly out of a relationship. As you sat down at the end of a rowdy bar, you can’t help the tears flowing out of your eyes. You’ve been holding them in for a while, trying not to break down in public, but sitting here with nothing else to do, you can’t stop the small sobs that break out.

The bartender makes her way towards you, her lips turned down sadly as she starts cleaning up some glasses at the sink near you methodically. Your sobs die down as she starts speaking to you.

“Rough night, sis?”

“Yeah, you could say that again.”

“Need something to drown it out?” you nod as she goes to grab some heavy liquid you can’t recognize. Whatever it is, it smells rank, you think as you lift the shot glass up towards your nose to sniff it. You shoot it back, and shudder at the brief taste you get before you swallow it down, throat burning a bit as you let out a slight cough. She offers another with a gesture and you nod in response, quickly downing the second, and you nurse the third.

Suddenly, a man in a raggedy black overcoat sits down beside you, raising a finger as he asks for some type of sake, and says “One for the crying mess, too.” In a raspy voice. You don’t even feel offended, it’s true, but he didn’t need to say it so harshly right in front of you. Although you wouldn’t say no to the free drink, as you quickly drained the one that you’d bought.

“Thanks,” you mumble to him, the alcohol not really hitting you yet. You wipe the tears from your face. “What’s your name?”

“Dabi.” He answers shortly, grabbing the sake and tipping it back, watching as you do the same. “You’re new here, but drinking like you’re about to be enlisted. What’s up?”

Now normally, you wouldn’t be giving your life story to a random stranger who- quite frankly- looked like he belonged in a prison cell. However, normally you didn’t have four generous shots of heavy liquor coursing through your veins after having just broken up with your last boyfriend of just over a year.

“Stupid asshat of a guy dumps me after over a year of being together for some stupid reason.” You sigh, head in your hands. “I don’t even get why? Like I was so blindsided and I feel like such a fucking idiot.”

“Sounds like a real idiot,” Dabi replies, sliding you another drink which you eagerly accept, drinking it in a rage.

“Like, fuck, I’m just not ready yet! Like, yeah if he was hard, I’d help him deal with it. But I just didn’t feel ready for sex, and he kept trying to force me, and when I get mad at that I’m the bad guy.” You’re starting to get a little dizzy, but at the moment, you’re so upset that you can’t really be bothered by it. You just want to be angry and heartbroken and drunk for a little while. So you don’t really have to face moving out of your shared apartment until later, tomorrow at the earliest.

“Was it a one-off thing? ‘Cause that’s a bit of an overreaction if that’s the case.” You’re so happy to have someone to vent too that you don’t notice the intent expression Dabi has on his face, you miss the way his body leans towards you eagerly waiting for an answer.

“Well, no.” you shift a bit uncomfortable in your seat. “But he said he was fine with it! That he was alright with waiting.”

“Well obviously he was lying. You must’ve been really stingy with sex.” You shouldn’t feel that hurt by a stranger’s words, especially when he has no idea about who you are and what your story was.

“I just didn’t want my first time to be forced onto me.” You mumble, looking into your glass. You were starting to feel the dizziness from the rapidly consumed drinks. “I wasn’t ready for it.” You could feel the tears welling up again, not even bothering to try and stop them.

“Makes sense. So, you’re a virgin then? And your boyfriend wanted to have sex and you didn’t so he broke up with you?” The odd phrasing of the questions didn’t even stand out to you.

“Yes! Except he said it was fine and I believed him!” you wail out, you’re crying hard now into your arms that are lain on the bar top. You feel a hesitant hand patting your shoulder rather awkwardly, but his hand is really warm and you feel a bit better at the soft contact.

“Sounds like a real idiot to me. You want another drink, doll?” he says softly into your ear. His breath tickles your neck a bit and you giggle a bit as you sway on your stool.

“I don’t have the money! Ahaha… I’ve gotta save it now because I have to move out of the stupid apartment.”

“Don’t worry, I have some money to spend. What better way to spend it than on a pretty girl, hmm?” You blush a little at the attention. His blue eyes are intense and you can’t keep eye contact for long with him.

“I mean, if you’d like too, I won’t stop you.” You hum.

“Alright then.” He gestures to the bartender, a dangerous grin on his face. You thought that you’d be spending the night alone, but you’re glad to have been proven wrong.

The two of you nurse some drinks as you talk a bit, most of the talking done by you, the alcohol loosening your mouth as you tell him a lot of your time with your ex, and whatever random thought pops into your head. He doesn’t talk much, but it’s not really off-putting as he usually interjects with sarcastic one liners and small questions, nodding as you continue your stories.

It’s getting later in the night and you’re blissfully drunk, unable to process the shitty feelings and how terrible you feel. Dabi seems to notice this and gets one of those grins he gets when you say how bad you want to fucking deck your ex in the face. It makes your heart beat in excitement.

“You’ll do shots with me, right?” You nod, excited. Dabi orders six drinks, and you feel yourself tense in sudden apprehension. That’s a lot considering that you’d already drank a few… how many was it now? It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. He seems to notice your hesitance though.

“What? Can’t handle a few shots?” his smile is teasing, but his words are daring you to agree with him, and you bristle in response.

“Of course I can!” part of you is screaming at you, telling you how bad of an idea this is, but its easy to drown out in the haze of your mind.

“Good, you can try to keep up with me then.” He shoots down the first without even warning and you scramble to catch up with him, grabbing the glass sitting in front of you, and tossing the drink back. You’re coughing a bit, the harshness of the shot winning against your already weakened and sensitive throat. Boldly you grab the next and shoot it down as well.

That might’ve been a mistake, because you splutter more, you can barely think, and you feel like you’re choking on the air you’re breathing in. Dabi’s face looks concerned as he asks you if you’re alright. You can only shake your head in response, knowing that you can’t possibly try to talk like this. He sees you swaying and clutching your now stomach as it rolls nauseatingly.

“Don’t worry, this is on me, I thought she was alright with them.” He’s speaking to the bartender, who looks worried and a little suspicious given his appearance, but his voice sounds like its in the end of a long tunnel to you. You accept being pulled into his arms as he leads you outside for some fresh air, he’s produced a bottle of water, and opens it one handed before handing it to you.

You try to thank him but that goes terribly, as you start dry heaving when you open your mouth. He has a sad, but un-surprised look on his face as he takes in your motions. If you were focused enough you probably would’ve said he looked satisfied, but that doesn’t make sense because he has no idea who you are.

Suddenly, everything starts spinning and you vaguely feel Dabi place your arm over his shoulder. You close your eyes, desperate to try and stop yourself from vomiting all over the man who was trying to help you. It’s your main focus as you lean almost all of your weight onto him and drag your feet across the pavement. You don’t know where he’s taking you but you can barely think much less stop him and you continue to keep your eyes closed, not worried at all.

Dabi couldn’t believe his luck meeting you. He’d just finished the final touches on the circle, he was practically all set up except for the link, the sacrifice. Of course, he’d been planning to go into bars to find the perfect person for his ritual, but he didn’t think it would’ve happened so quickly! He’d expected it to take months, and what a relief it was that it hadn’t! He can barely contain his excitement as he keeps your form tight to his body.

You were so naïve, so trusting, latching onto the first person that offered you kindness. Getting drunk on your own in a rather sketchy bar on a Saturday night, what had you been thinking? He knew you’d had a shitty day, but getting drunk at home surely would’ve been the superior option, anyone could see that.

It’s a decent walk to his place unfortunately, he knows that the usual 20-minute walk will likely double with you barely able to stand, much less walk quickly. So, he sighs and reminds himself exactly why this is so important. Why he’s even bothering to ‘save’ your pathetic form.

The runs and sigils are going to look fucking gorgeous carved into your body, he thinks, still dragging you along. You’re almost to the point of unconsciousness, he notices, and it might be easier for him if you were unconscious. At least then he wouldn’t have to be concerned for how he drags you. The pitiful whimpering noises are so annoying to listen to, so he moved slow enough that you could sort of drag yourself and not make those noises.

Dabi keeps running through the steps in his head, the rituals, the incantations, and the carvings…. He knew he was a powerful castor. He could only hope that the practice he’d put in, the training he’d put in and the beautiful and pure sacrifice he’d found would be enough to actually summon Satan.

He knows with the power boost he could finally rid the world of his wretched father. Could finally get rid of him and his stupid fucking followers and coven.

He’d take them all. And he’d win, he knew it.

He’s finally dragged you to his apartment, and at this point you’re barely conscious in his arms. Good, it would make the carvings so much easier with you unable to struggle. Plus, with the fact that the alcohol would cloud your senses so you’d feel less pain and make less noise. He wonders if you’re even going to understand what’s happening to you, if you’re going to cry out in fear and confusion. He can’t even lie, the idea of that makes him feel a warmth down in his core, makes him start to feel hard, god, he bets your screams will sound as pretty as you are.

He has one of the only basement rooms in the apartment, the other two abandoned because of how cold and dirty it is down there, plus there was only cold water that ran down in the basement. However, it was secluded and quiet there, and that’s exactly what Dabi needed in a place. Somewhere where he could lay low while he bides his time, planning and training and waiting. He wasn’t originally a patient person, but he’d learned to be, and it was something that he was proud of.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to explain to any of his upstairs neighbours why he’s dragging you across the lobby to the back set of stairs that only lead down to the concrete hall downstairs. He’s gotten a pretty large space in his basement room, especially with the way he’s completely emptied his living room. The couch is pushed against the wall, table and tv also against the wall leaving a large rug on the floor. The lucky part was that he didn’t ever have a ton of possessions, so it was rather easy for him to make the circle on the floor and cover it with a large goat-skin rug.

He doesn’t have many chairs, only the ones at the small bar behind which his kitchen is located, so he tosses you onto the leather couch on your side in case you were to vomit. He can’t have you dying before he sacrifices you after all. He checks to make sure that you’re really out of it before he goes into his washroom to start cleaning himself and preparing his mind for the layers of spell he’s about to cast.

He’s started clearing his mind as he walks into his room, crystals glistening even in the non-natural light, as he starts to slow his breathing in a rather deep and slow pattern. He feels himself start to go into a state he can only get into when he’s concentrating on magic. All his troubles seem to slip away as he steps into the warm running water. He keeps the sigils he’s going to be needing soon in mind as he washes away all the dirt and grime from the bar, washing away all the petty crime to get prepared for something far, far worse.

When he’s towelled off, he puts on some cotton boxers, and soft grey pants, leaving himself shirtless in the chilling air. He feels the goosebumps start to creep up his arms as he grabs the old iron lighter, the only gift from his mother that he’d manage to take with him when he had to get out with his life after his father had found out what he’d done.

You’re pretty much asleep on the couch when he comes out, and he looks over you, your innocent form, so fucking pleased at the sacrifice he’d managed to snatch. Turning away, he starts to take out some candles that he has stashed in the wooden chest beside his couch, the colours he uses going to be black, purple and red.

After moving the carpet off, he places the candles in groups of three at the points and nodes of the circled star. Afterwards, he grabs the red chalk he has and starts to write the various Latin incantations around the circle. He ignores your soft snores, you seem to be mumbling something in your sleep, as he continues his work. It’s taking a lot more time than he’d like it to.

But soon enough, he thinks, it’ll all be worth it.

You feel yourself lifted into the air, your head spinning even before you even open your eyes. Where are you? What’s happening? You try to open your eyes, but it’s so nauseating and disorienting seeing the dark room spinning around, you’re sure you’ve never been in before. You feel yourself lowered onto the ground, rather roughly. You keep your eyes closed trying to wait out the dizzy spell as you hear the click of a lighter, and you shudder, expecting to feel a sting of burning flames.

But you don’t, and you hear the clicking a few more times. You start to feel a little more stable and you squint, trying to see what’s happening. You try and sit up, but you can’t with your dexterity hindered by the alcohol, and your wrists and ankles bound in ropes. You start to panic slightly, the last thing you can remember is accepting a few drinks from a man, Dabi wasn’t it?

“Oh, you’re up. That’s good, you need to be conscious for this part.” Speak of the devil and there he shall appear. You feel a surge of fear as you turn your head towards the man.

“What did you do? Why am I here?” you stumble, trying to cut through the fog in your head.

“More like what did you do? Who goes out on their own in a sketchy part of town late at night? You were practically begging for something bad to happen to you.” You notice that he’s half naked and you shudder, remembering what you’d told him before and you get a terrible feeling in your gut.

“No I wasn’t! I just wanted the night to not be complete shit!” You desperately search for anything in your reach that you could use to get yourself out of this situation. You can’t even roll away, you notice that there are iron pegs nailed into the ground and you are tied to those. You want to cry, you don’t know what you did to deserve this.

“Well, you should’ve just stayed at home,” you hear a knife being pulled out of a holder, and in the corner of your eye you can see Dabi heating the blade against a large gas flame. It’s a twisted knife, the three sides a blue and black metal with a small skull on the end of the hilt. The metal is glowing red hot at the parts where it had been heated though.

You squirm away from him as much as you can in your restraints when he kneels in front of you with the knife in his hand. “Stop fucking wiggling, It’ll hurt you more because I will nail you to the fucking floor if there’s a chance of me messing these up because of you.” You stop your motions, not wanting whatever’s coming to be made worse. So instead, you start screaming as loud as you can for help, the desperation in your tone evident.

He just throws his head back in mad laughter at that. “Keep on screaming! I haven’t even started the fun bit yet baby! Nobody can hear you down here you know? It’s utterly fucking pointless for you to cry for help. But please go on, it makes me feel soooo good.”

You feel your eyes widen in horror looking at the man’s face. He’s still oddly attractive, the flames giving his face sharper shadows, making him look almost inhuman. You’ve never wanted to disappear from someone’s gaze so badly before.

You shudder as you feel his cold hand push you over and down on your stomach. How are you supposed to get out of there when you’re lying on your stomach with him pressing his weight into you.

You are mid thought when the first lick of iron hot metal is brought onto your back. You cry out in surprise and pain, the knife tugging at your muscles and you can feel the ridges it has. Tears spring to your eyes, but it doesn’t seem to hurt as much as you would’ve thought, it must be all the alcohol still coursing its way through your system.

You can’t focus on the words he’s murmuring as he continues to slice designs with purpose into your back. He laughs whenever you let out a vicious scream and you can’t see his face but you can tell he’s enjoying the process immensely.

“Shirt’s getting in the way of the rest of it sweetheart, guess it’s time to take it off now.” He’s so smug which makes you feel humiliated as you press your head into the ground trying to put yourself together. You whimper as you feel your shirt lifted and hear the fabric tearing.

You’re now shivering half naked on the cold concrete floor and starting to lose your grip on reality as the pain sends you drifting in and out of consciousness. You feel sharp pain as he starts designing up your spine, humming a bit as he goes. Why’d you have to meet a psychopath tonight? Wasn’t your luck just so shitty lately.

You lose track of time as he works, you’re pretty sure that you lose consciousness for most of it, but luckily Dabi doesn’t wake you up for it. However, when you do come to, you notice how badly your throat hurts, you must’ve been screaming a lot for that to happen.

“You ready for the front now? Then we can finally get the real thing started.”

“Please, isn’t there enough? I don’t want anymore stop please! Just let me go.” You try pleading with him, knowing it’s probably not going to work. He doesn’t even deign you with response to your pathetic attempt. Instead he flips you over, your hands now positioned up above your head.

Your limbs feel like lead, and you feel as if all your energy has been draining out of you along with the blood that’s come oozing out of your wounds. You can’t move, you’re stuck and all you can do is look at the man doing this to you and seethe in anger and hatred. His eyes seem to be burning with bright blue flames, but surely that must be you hallucinating? People’s eyes don’t glow.

“Finally,” he breathes out as he leans back and admires his handiwork. He’s looking at you with blown open eyes, erection prominent and you can see the outline through his sweatpants. “Now it’s just to call him while I carve my name into your chest. You’re gonna spell it out for me, got that doll? Or else I can start working on the other bits of skin.”

You just want it over with at this point, you’ll go along with his idea just so you can finally get out. “Fine.” You whisper, resigned to it at this point.

“D.” He must’ve heated up the knife again, because it burns more than it did before and you scream your throat raw as he carves this much deeper that the other markings.

“A!” you screech, hoping it ends soon, at least he has a short name.

“B!” your voice cracks in your agony and your chest is aching.

“I!” you sob, tears streaming down your face again as feel your body go completely limp as you succumb to darkness once again.

Dabi tries to get his breathing in control, looking at your broken and bleeding form. He’s never felt this aroused by someone, and he was right, your screams were like an orchestra playing the most beautiful music he’s ever heard.

But that was a bonus. It was time for the summoning, and so it was time to focus and go through it. He slices his left palm, your blood mixing with his before he lets it spill over, mesmerized by how it drip, drip, drips onto the stained concrete. One last incantation that he has to say, and he hasn’t been this excited since he’d first found out he was a castor, and that he was a pretty powerful one at that.

He waits anxiously in silence, eyes on you as more blood oozes from all the markings, there’s thin linking of red all around the cuts. He wishes that the sacrifice didn’t require a virgin because he desperately wanted to take it from you himself.

Lost in his thoughts, the sudden burst of wind that erupts from the centre of the circle, from under your form blows out all the candles.

“Well, aren’t you an ambitious one. Trying to summon Satan all on your own.” Dabi jerks around at the lilting voice from behind him, somehow, it’s both amused and condescending at the same time, and Dabi bristles at it.

“You aren’t powerful enough to be him, I didn’t summon you.” His teeth are grinding in frustration.

“So rude, and we’ve only just met! Look kid, you don’t have the power or the numbers to summon Satan right now, but I’m the highest-level under-creature you could get.” His eyes seem to glow gold in the darkness, they light up his sharp features.

Dabi lets out a growl with a few curses. “Whatever, that doesn’t matter, I knew it was a long shot. You said you were the highest I could get. How high is that?” His grin is devious as he hears the question.

“I’m Hawks, fallen angel at your service. As for how high I am? I’m in the 5th level range.” Dabi whistles at that. “So, does that mean you’re going to strike a deal with me? I haven’t gotten a serious one in a while. It’s getting seriously boring down there.”

“You should be able to lend me the amount of firepower I’d need for it. What are your terms, and how does the transfer work in your deals?” he grins showing off his fangs a bit as he cages Dabi in a bit despite being shorter, wings making him seem much larger though.

“Here’s the fun part, because I’m a fallen angel, it works a little differently! My powers got corrupted so that sacrifice you have there – oh she’s an actual virgin! – is going to be your ticket to my powers.”

“So, I have to keep her safe?”

He shrugs, “You asked, I’m just telling you friend. Obviously, the price is the same as any other deal.”

“Obviously.”

“So, you’re prepared for that? Hell isn’t as nice as you’d think.”

“No shit Sherlock, but don’t worry, I’ve thought it through a fair bit.” Hawks laughs at that.

“Alright! Since my fall was lust based, the power transfer is too, if you catch my drift.” Hawks says with a raised eyebrow.

“….sort of?”

“Oh my god, are you an idiot?”

“I don’t want to hear that from you, chicken man.” Dabi just wants this over with, he’s getting a little antsy. “Can we get started already?”

“Alright then, time to wake up sleeping beauty over there.”

You feel yourself being blearily shaken awake, and you’re shocked to see a different face than Dabi’s in front of you. He’s gorgeous, and his wings, despite being an eerie dark red, are full and look so soft. Blearily, you try to reach up to try and feel them, forgetting that your hands are tied to the peg on the floor. The man looks at you with pity and amusement.

“Hey there, I’m Hawks, are you ready to become a human magic battery?” he says cheerily, words much at odds with his words and expression.

“What, no, what’s going on? Please there’s a man here – Dabi – and he’s kidnapped me! You have to help me out, call the police, why are you smiling?” You feel the tiny bit of hope that had grown up come crashing down as you observed the – man? Angel? – who called himself Hawks.

“Yeah, my friend Dabi and I have a little arrangement here. You know what I am right? You should know that struggling is useless. Just lay back and enjoy the ride, baby.” His eyes pierce your soul and you find yourself unable to even think of a response to that.

You don’t even completely realize what that means until he starts nuzzling your neck as his hands go towards your tits, starting to play with your pebbled nipples, his hands surprisingly warm.

“No please, I don’t want that…” you say weakly, completely spent already from the ordeal that Dabi had put you through. “I just want to go home!” you’re so delirious from pain and the small bits of pleasure you’re trying to pretend aren’t happening at Hawks’ toying with you.

“Too bad little bird, you don’t really have a say in the matter at the moment.” He bites down on your neck hard, drawing blood which he then licks up. “So, fucking good! Haven’t been able to do this in so long.” He’s grinding into you, the layers of fabric bringing you stimulation and pleasure as you moan, immediately tensing up in embarrassment and shame.

“Don’t be like that, I always make people feel good like this, so just relax.” His eyes are glowing and as you look into them, you feel yourself relaxing a bit. Maybe you should relax, he definitely knows what he’s doing, you can feel the heat building in your core and your hazy mind start to lose focus. His eyes, are just so fucking beautiful, and the way his fingers are moving feel amazing.

He turns his head down, lapping lightly at your breast. His tongue is warm, but the metal stud on his tongue makes you moan out in delight.

“Oh so you do like it!” he exclaims brightly. “Let’s get this started now baby.” Your mind is still screaming at you that this is wrong, that you don’t want this, that you need to struggle and get free. With all the distractions in your mind, its so deliciously easy to fall into a hazy daydream like trance as he licks up the blood from your wounds. His tongue makes it feel so, so good. He switches breasts, tugging on your nipples as you mewl in delight. Once you let go, everything was so much better!

He sucks bruises onto your hips, nipping at them with his sharpened fangs. “Oi, don’t enjoy yourself too much there Dabi, you gotta go a round too after.” You turn to see Dabi stretched out like a cat on his couch, his cock out of his pants as he languidly strokes it. It’s pierced and you find yourself imagining how it would feel scraping your walls.

There was only one thing bothering you, and it was that everywhere Hawks touched grew hotter and hotter, not in an unpleasant way, more in an antsy, wanting to move and run mood. You felt like you were vibrating and you didn’t understand it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your jaw dropped when the angel ripped off your bottoms harshly.

“Let’s see if you taste as good as the other humans I’ve devoured.” He rips the ankle restraints as he tosses your knees over his shoulders and licks a stripe up your pussy. You shudder at the new sensation, biting on your lip to stifle your moan.

He sees that as a challenge and spends his time tasting your juices along his tongue, his eyes seemingly brighter as he works at your pussy, teasing your clit with his tongue stud. He keeps working at you with single minded determination, teasing your hole with his sharp nail and you let out a squeak, which quickly turns into a groan as he slides his finger in. He adds a second as soon as he can, loving hearing the sounds your pussy makes as he scissors you open.

You’ve never felt this good in your life, you can barely tell what’s happening, but you feel waves of pleasure as you feel his tightening in your lower belly.

“You’re getting close, huh?” Hawks brings his face up, eyes lidded as he licks the juices around his mouth. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes!”

“Well, I don’t know, you were pretty awful to my business partner over there… maybe I shouldn’t let you cum.” He brings his second hand up to his face, lightly scratching at his scruff, and you begin to panic. You have this insatiable need, you don’t know where it came from, but it’s not letting you think at all. There’s this voice yelling at you that it’s Hawks’ fault, but he’s literally an angel. How could he be doing something so disgusting to you?

So you open your mouth, “Please let me cum, I’ll be so good for you sir! I didn’t mean to be awful to him, I just didn’t understand what he was trying to do!”

“That’s fucking right.” There’s a sudden intensity in his eyes that makes you feel like your heart’s stopped. “You didn’t know what you were doing. I’m your guardian angel after all, and I came here because you were going to make a mistake that would put you in danger.”

“Oh my god…” the horror you feel chokes your throat, yet it doesn’t rid you of the incessant need that’s been plaguing you.

“Would your guardian angel ever steer you wrong, Y/N?” he grabs your chin, nails cutting shallowly when he presses.

“No, you wouldn’t!” you shake your head, trying to convey exactly how much you were repenting.

“So, listen carefully little lady. This is important.” He waits for your assent before he continues. “You’re in a very dangerous spot, so I needed a friend here to help you out, he’s going to keep you nice and safe. All you have to do in return is let yourself have some fun, some pleasure in your life. I mean, you’re begging for that exact pleasure right now.”

There’s a little niggling at the back of your head, it’s telling you how good you’ll be treated, you’ll be loved and accepted. You start to shake it off, but you can’t when it tells you that nobody will ever make you feel good like this, who would want too? Here you have two beings ready to make you feel good like you’ve never felt before and you’re denying them?

“Of course, that sounds like a great idea Mr. Hawks.”

“Alright, what a good girl, see Dabi? Isn’t she great?”

“I knew I’d gotten lucky, but I didn’t realize how lucky until now.” The grin on his face is satisfied, but as you look longer, the more you see the pleasure and happiness he feels too.

“Do I get to cum now? You keep saying how good I am…” you don’t remember thinking about saying that, but the words seem to come out on their own accord.

In response Hawks goes back to your neglected pussy and starts thrusting his fingers into a spot inside you that makes you gasp in surprise. With all the swirling emotions and pain and alcohol you feel yourself tighten and let loose quickly, hitting your high in ecstasy. Your back arches, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that your shoulders have definitely been scratched up badly.

But why care when you feel so good now?

Your eyes are closed as you lie there, battered and cut and so blissed out as Hawks removes his pants and looks around.

“You didn’t bring lube?” he directs the question to Dabi.

“You need that? I thought you had like, magic and shit.”

Hawks swallows his annoyance, “I’m in a mortal form dipshit. Channeling divine or corrupt energy is hard to do without fucking blowing myself up.”

Dabi just shrugs. “I mean to be fair; I didn’t know I was getting some angel that got kicked out of heaven for being horny. Or else I definitely would’ve bought some.”

“Whatever,” he mutters. “I like this way better.” You hear the conversation, but can’t be bothered to really understand what they’re saying. All you know is that you feel someone leaning above you.

Hawks takes a feather from his wings, carefully turning it in his hands. “Now, I’m not going to lie, this is going to hurt a bit. But I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even remember it, alright?” You nod along blearily, barely hearing him.

He grins and slices a long line right above your hip, and you barely feel it being so numb. You do feel his fingers pressing into the cut though, and you try to squirm away, but that just makes him slam you down with his other hand in a surprising show of force for his physique. It feels so wrong when you feel him wiggle his fingers a bit inside your skin, and you shut your eyes so you don’t have to see it. Apparently, that amuses Dabi, who starts guffawing off to the side somewhere. The pain brings up all off the fear you’ve been feeling the whole night, and it shocks you. You start screaming, begging to be let go hysterically while you see Hawks, his hand covered in your blood, fisting his length, mixing some of the precum with it.

“I thought you said you were going to behave.” He growls and you feel an intense pressure on your mind for a second before your fear starts to fade away easily. “Much better.” He says to your relaxing form.

“You gotta teach me how to do that,” Dabi comments, which just has Hawks rolling his eyes.

“Shut up and let me enjoy this, I haven’t had sex in so long, warlock.” That elicits a snort from Dabi as he settles back down.

He lines up his cock with your slick entrance, teasing a bit as the blood and your juices mix together and it lets him start to work his way inside of you. You’re panting, fingers scrabbling at everything they can reach as he pushes through. You feel a mix of pain and pleasure as he pushes all the way into you. He surprisingly lets you adjust, breathing heavily as your walls squeeze intensely around the intrusion.

It feels so, so good though and Hawks can tell that’s how you feel as he grins and moves your legs up and around his hips. You whine as he stretches you out more with the new position, and he grunts a bit as he starts thrusting his hips, dragging his sharpened nails down your side without breaking the skin. He puts his head to your neck, pressing open mouth kisses there that make you relax around him, and as soon as he feels that change, he starts pounding into you harder. You hear lewd noises and realize that most of them, are in fact, coming from you. Which is a little jarring of a realization but in your state, you can’t really say it surprised you. It was more of a ‘huh, that’s me then’ moment.

The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room along with grunts of exertion and moans of pleasure from the pair of you. You can feel yourself building up to that point once again, and you don’t realize it until you’re clamping down on his cock with a shout of pleasure. Hawks groans at the sound, and feels your tight walls somehow clamp down on him harder and starts bucking into you, nails digging into your hips as he chases his own release.

Had you been in any normal state of mind, you might’ve found it disturbing that Hawks seemed to be murmuring a bunch of Latin as he pounded into you. You might’ve noticed the hand he placed on your heart left a searing imprint that turned dark red. You might’ve noticed his pupils contract into slits and his eyes turn a deep red for a few seconds.

But you didn’t.

You felt like you were floating, and figured if this could be compared to anything, it would be a more painful version of a wet, fever dream.

Suddenly, Hawks comes inside you and you feel the warm liquid fill you up as he thrusts a couple more times, working himself through it. He stays inside, but that’s not what takes your focus. The feeling that you were vibrating without moving was back with a vengeance, but you also felt this numbness that started from your core that moved outwards until your entire body was feeling that way. As Hawks pulled out, you felt so empty, you felt like you didn’t know what to do. So, you let your eyes drift shut while you heard some talk about ‘a transfer’ and ‘both it her.’

Suddenly, your wrist bindings were also stripped off and you look up in surprise to see Hawks with that same feather setting you free, while Dabi moved to the bedroom.

“You still going to be good for us, little lady? We’re almost done for tonight.” He coos at you, lightly stroking your chin with his finger. You give him a small nod, and with that, he picks you up as if you were a stuffed toy and you lean into his shoulder as he brings you to the bedroom.

“Right, at least you’re prepared already so we can get into this quickly.” Hawks says brusquely, bringing himself to the bed and setting you down before he sits as well.

“You were enjoying yourself a minute ago, what’s with the sudden rush?” Dabi’s eyebrow is quirked as he puts his hand in your hair and starts scratching your head. You shamelessly sigh in appreciation.

“My times running out, gotta get this transfer done soon or else we’re going to have to start over another day.” Hawks grouches. “Damn I don’t miss all the rules, but having unlimited mortal form time? That’s something I miss about upstairs.”

Turning his attention to you Dabi says, “Here, you enjoyed that guy, so you’ll love sitting on my cock.”

Right now, nothing sounded better, so using the last of your strength, you crawled up to his lap and he guided you right above his dick. He brought you down slowly, ever so slowly, and you felt every inch of his dick inside you, especially those piercings that gave you an amazing sensation.

“There’s a good girl, much better than before,” he gets out.

“Now you’re going to need to relax, alright Y/N? It’s going to feel really tight at first but you’ll feel great afterwards.” Hawks is mumbling this into your neck, playing with your hair a little bit while he does.

“I can do that,” you say, unaware of what he was going to do, but ready to please him.

“Good, Dabi you might have to distract her a little bit, she’s pretty tight for one person, let alone two.” Dabi smirks but leans back, starting to play with your nipples a bit. You never thought you’d like the sensation of someone swirling around them, tugging them at some points, but here you were, enjoying every second of it.

You get so into it, that at first you don’t notice Hawks lining up with your entrance and starting to work his way back into you. Dabi actually does first, shuddering at the contact of Hawks’ dick against his own and gasping a bit.

“Oh Dabi, you were so cocky a minute ago, what’s wrong now?” You hear the teasing from behind as you desperately grip onto Dabi’s shoulders, trying to stay relaxed so it doesn’t hurt as much.

“Fuck off, chicken.” Is his only response which Hawks cackles at as he starts to push further in. You gasp at the painful stretch, tears welling out of your eyes, as Hawks reaches around you to play with your clit to distract you.

“Doing so good, sweetheart, just a little bit more, can you do that for me?” he nips at your ear.

“Yes,” you gasp, the pleasure from his rough finger movements distracting you a bit from all the pain as your breathing gets shallow. “Slow down, please?”

“That’ll just make it worse,” he says. “I’m just going to get it over quickly, alright?” you don’t even have time to agree before he shoves the rest of his way in, screaming out as it happens. You feel so fucking stuffed, and they haven’t even started moving or anything.

Dabi’s losing some of that composure he’d had before, cussing as he tries to steady his breathing, but you feel his cock twitching inside you. You’re losing the strength you have in your arms as you lean forwards onto Dabi’s chest, and you moan as the shift in movement gives you friction on your clit and in your pussy.

Without really knowing what you’re doing, you press kisses onto the side of his neck as you lie there, trying to get used to being this stretched out. It wasn’t going to happen tonight that’s for sure, because you’d barely had anything up there until today.

You feel a grip tighten on your hips as one of them, at this point you have no idea who, starts moving in and out. The other goes the opposite rhythm so that you always feel so completely full you feel like you’re going to burst. The thought comes unbidden into your mind that these two sadists might actually enjoy that. It makes you shiver in fear.

You can’t really remember what happened, but you have specific feelings and recollections of the two fucking into you,

…Dabi hitting your G-Spot over and over again as you see white and cum hard on his cock…

…Hawks leaning over you to grab Dabi into a rather passionate kiss as he got you to play with the raven-haired man’s pierced nipples…

…Your ass getting spanked so you clench down on them and Dabi comes, but stays inside until he gets hard again…

…getting toyed with in every possible way, bites and bruises marking your skin so much that you feel light headed from blood-loss…

…you remember clawing at Dabi’s back which has him screaming in pleasure…

…Dabi’s eyes glowing blue, as if he’d had flames trapped inside them and they were ready to come out…

…pleased laughter and an uptick in pace…

…then nothing…

Dabi lays back, breathing heavily as your form is slumped on his chest. He wasn’t surprised you’d completely passed out a little way into your second round. If anything, he was surprised you’d managed to last that long. He was wiped after one, but that was mainly because he was trying to keep up with Hawks, who had the fucking endurance of something otherworldly.

Which made sense given he was a magical being.

Still it peeved Dabi to no end as Hawks slid out of you looking completely untouched as he did so. The only thing that was out of place was his hair, messed from Dabi grabbing it, which he hadn’t remembered starting but it was sometime when he was making out with Hawks… which he hadn’t expected… but he wasn’t complaining.

Although no matter how drained Dabi felt physically, magically? He felt so fucking ready to take on anything that could happen in the future. He could feel it pulsing around his body, in his fingertips and temples, and it felt amazing. He understood why so many people went with summoning darker entities for power transfers now, much easier and much more potent.

“So, I have to be here in person to do my whole mind-manipulation thing, so you should think about how to keep her safe for now. She’s tied to you because of the transfer so like, if she were to die for example…. You’d definitely die too.” Hawks says with a cheery smile.

“You didn’t think to mention that before?” he gets a shrug in response.

“You didn’t ask. Oh and, for every time you need a power boost, just take care of her and let her enjoy the sex, it’ll ah – flow easier if you catch my drift.”

“Thanks oh angel of a good dickening… what would I ever do without you?”

“No seriously, the more your conduit enjoys the sex, the more you get out of it.” he looks unamused.

“Oh. Ah, well that’s good to know.” Dabi has to start planning out his next moves then, keeping you healthy and happy was going to be a tough job.

“I did make the suggestion to her that I was her guardian angel and you were helping her out, try to play up that angle, it’ll call up some of the residual magic in her mind and make her… more pliant.” Hawks starts putting on his clothes once again.

“Uh, thanks. Is she just a constant source of your power then?” That’s the only part Dabi was still confused about.

“No, I’ll be back when I feel the energy start to dwindle. I need you to do all the terrible things I know you have planned. Your soul will be fucking delicious then. Any who, see you later Dabi! It was an absolute pleasure doing business with you.”

He vanishes like he came, suddenly disappearing with a gust of air hitting Dabi in the face. Dabi looks down on you, still on his cock as he desperately tries to think about what he was going to do to keep you in here and how he’d keep you safe trying to hunt down another coven.

#bnha x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader #tw: noncon #tw: blood play #jays writes

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h0neyjaehyun · 4 years

Text

☁︎ 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ☁︎

Summary // Jeno finds out Tali's favorite skinship, and later on so do the boys.

Characters // Talia Flores + Jeno Lee (ft.Nct Dream mention. Chan, parents)

Era / Year // July 2017

Word Count //

⚠️Warning⚠️ // Mention of Alchohol abuse

So members like to give out kisses once in awhile and Tali is no different. Even tho she doesn't really do skinship, she doesn't mind giving kisses here and there mostly because thats how the people around her gave her affection when she was in her pre-teens. Lots of head kisses mostly, from adoring her to comforing her.

Something about Tali makes you want to smother her in affection. But the boys don't want to over step her boundaries so they never did, and hoping that one day Tali will give the signal that it was okay.

And the moment had come.

Its was 2017, Tali felt quite sad. Not that the boys did anything wrong its just sometimes she misses the times she can be carefree and drink. The adrenaline that she got when she was younger but she knew that she wasn't able to go back to it.

She knows drinking is bad,especially at her age which wasn't llegal drinking age, she hasn't drinked alcohol since Chan convinced her not to, and saying it was bad for her. She knew that when she was younger too but she missed the thrill, and her friends. They all kept in contact, visiting them when she is off. She just misses the affectionate that they usually gave her, but can't since it might get her in a scandal. Mostly the head kisses, and when she kisses them on the cheek, that made her feel the most loved and thats how she preferred to show her love.

Her parents never really gave her affection, it was usually her friends, and she felt comfort in those moments and safe. The boys didn't really hug her, only Haechan or Jaemin, what they usually do is just pinch her cheeks. Even tho she doesn't like the cheek pinching, she wanted kisses, but it felt weird asking that.

So she finally had the courage to just kiss one of the members cheek one day....all hell broke loose when they found out the habit.

"Jeno~" she said sleeply, tired of the comeback, she went and sat beside him. "You look tired." "Wow, thats what every girl wants to hear." Tali said sarcastically. "Sorry" Jeno laughed with his eye smile. Tali looked at him and smiled back loving his smile. She put her head on his shoulder while they were waiting for the rest of dream to get ready for bed.

She heard yelling outside knowing it was the 2 boys that have been practically fighting all summer and not getting along for only god knows what. (Or whatever figure you believe in). She tried her best to ignore it, but also wanting to get out of the dorm that she wasn't very comfortable in at the moment.

"Hey Jeno?"

"Hm?"

"Wanna go for ice cream?"

"Right now? Its the middle of the night."

Tali looked at him then looked back at the door from where all the yelling is coming from.

"Either you wanna stay here and keep hearing them scream their heads off at each other or you wanna go get ice cream and go on the roof so we can look at the stars. Either way im going."

Jeno thought about it, he didn't want to stay here, nor did he want Tali to go out alone knowing she was too stubborn to back down from not leaving.

"....Sure why not...Renjun can always handle them"

Tali nodded, not caring if she was tired she just wanted out. They left quietly without anyone noticing, and headed to the the Open 24 hours store, to grab some ice cream and snacks.

They left and Jeno almost went to the dorm forgetting that they were supposed to go to the roof but Tali pulled him to the roof. Jeno was amazed on how Tali knew about going up here, the view was so pretty, like she can read his thoughts she said. "This is my safe place these past months, the amount of fighting those two have is...terrible I just wanted to leave the bad aura and come here with you." She said looking at him with sparkles in her eyes.

Jeno looked mesmerized by her speech and her eyes, he always liked looking at them. He pulled her to the ground and they sat there in silence with only bags being moved around being the only noise.

Tali looked at him and she found comfort, he looked back at her and gave her his famous eye smile, she was so happy to see it she couldn't help but just climb on his lap and just stay there in his arms. Jeno was surprised but took the rare opportunity to hold her.

Then Tali out of habit gave him a kiss on the cheek. Jeno froze, Tali could feel the stiffness in his body. Then it clicked on what she just did. "Oh my- IM SORRY I DID THAT OUT OF HABIT, IM SORRY I MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE." Tali said panicked.

While Jeno still loading, Tali was about to get off his lap but thats when reality came in he held her in the same position they were before. "No no its okay, its okay as long as you don't do that to people outside the group your okay" Jeno laughed at her panicked state.

There was silence

"Wait....what do you mean out of habit?" Jeno said out of curiosity.

Tali blushed not expecting that question she laughed and said "Well when I was like 11 I developed a love for kisses, like not lip to lip more like head kisses of comfort, then the way I respond to that comfort is by giving that person a kiss on the cheek if I really really trust them.." she said while she was hiding in her red hair, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed at that confession, she didnt really like saying those cheesy things if makes her cringe or flustered.

Jeno laughed at her embarrassment. Feeling good that she trusts him, and that he is getting closer to her. "You trust me?" Jeno said cutely. Tali now flustered "Of course I trust you" she said with giggle. "Then why didn't you kiss my cheek before huh?" He said teasingly with a pout. Tali smiles at his cuteness "Because I didn't know if your were comfortable with it" she said with a smile, head tilted cutely. Jeno gushed at her.

"How about this" Jeno proposed

"How about me and you only do this hm?" Tali thought about it, she doesn't know if the members are comfortable with it and honestly doesn't wanna embarrass herself so one member is better then none.

She looked at him the a smile and said "of course!"

Jeno was happy that he got closer with Tali also that they get to have their own little thing. But he knew it wasn't gonna last long since they were probably gonna accidentally do it infront of the boys out of habit, but he is gonna take the time that he has with it.

Dream were in the waiting room. Bored out of their mind waiting for their turn to perform. So Jeno and Tali were just napping together, Jaemin visited them and he saw them together and started taking pictures.

Then Tali started waking up and looked up and saw Jaemin."Jaeminnnn" she said cutely still sleepily doing graby hands at him like a baby while Jeno was still asleep beside her, hands around her waist, his face in her hair. Jaemin couldn't resist the invitation so he layed on top of her and snuggled his face in her chest.

She wasn't expecting the face in chest but she thought eh he is injured i don't to hurt him by pushing him off and its been awhile I'll let it slide. Then Jeno woke up from all the movement

"Jaemin."

"Hm?" The boy still buried in her chest too comfortable to move.

"One why are you here and two why are you in Tali's chest?" Concerned for the girl under him since she is a small human being.

"One to visit since its been awhile, and two...its comfortable and she did the grabby hands so I couldn't resist." He said still in her chest. Jeno looked at Tali and Tali looked back at Jeno. She blinked a few times.

"Hello"

Jeno just smiled at her cute hello.

Tali looked at Jaemin who seemed to be asleep.

"Jaemin....Jaemin....JAEMIN!" Mark yelled waking up the boy. "WHAT." The boy said upset that his sleep got disturbed. "Get off of her she need to fix her clothes to perform." Mark said, Jaemin just glared at Mark "You're just jealous that Im in this position and you're not." Jaemin said getting up and started to bicker with Mark.

Tali just crawled onto Jeno's lap and both of them sat there looking at the boys just bickering with each other while the others started joining in. In the moment Tali felt at home, Jeno reminded Tali of her brother when he would hold her when something bad came up or just in general.

Jeno looked down and saw Tali seem comfortable which made him happy and out of habit he kissed her head, and in that exact moment the boys turned to Tali to ask her who gives the best cuddles and they see Tali in Jeno's lap and him giving her a head kiss.

Everything was quiet

"WHY DOES HE GET TO KISS YOU AND NOT ME!" Haechan whined while he collapsed on Tali's legs.

Tali blinked trying to figure out whats happening then she realized...he kissed my head....oh no.

Then their manager came "Its time to perform LETS GO PEOPLE." Tali and Jeno took this opportunity to book it so they looked at each other and RAN.

"COME BACK HERE WE ARE NOT FINSIHED DISCUSSING THIS!" Jaemin yelled.

All the boys laughed and then after they performed they saw Jaemin still there waiting for an explanation. Jeno and Tali looked at each other trying to figure out how to explain.

"Well?"

"Um...well you see its just...it became a habit~?" Tali said trying hard to explain without confessing the truth cause if she does, they won't stop kissing her.

"Tali." Jisung said.

"Hm?" Tali turned to Jisung

"Are you and Jeno hyung dating" Chenle said

Tali and Jeno looked at each other and they burst out laughing.

"YOu ThInk WE ArE DAtiNg!?" Jeno said laughing his ass off.

Everyone was confused not knowing what to think.

"Listen, I find comfort with head kisses when being hugged and I usually repay the person with a kiss on the cheek or a hug nothing more, its just Jeno found out by accident when we hanged out and I was sleepy, we agreed to be our thing till we slip up and do it front of you guys nothing more." Tali said giggling.

They all were in awe at the little cute confession and started to coo at her and petting her hair.

Jaemin just looked at her after the cooing and said with a betrayed face.

"YOU GAVE JENO A KISS BEFORE ME"

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Night Out

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family Characters: Gordon, Scott

#fluffember day 18 - ‘touch’ - and something a little different, mostly because @janetm74 decided to call me out about whacking ‘unsuspecting characters’ with a chair of ‘pain and suffering’ and @gumnut-logic mentioned literally hitting them with a chair... I promise this is mostly fluff still! That Teen rating (Teen for a fluff fic? Tsari what are you doing?) is for language and alcohol, because we have two former military boys in a London pub.

Gordon learnt two things that night: Scott was an affectionate drunk, and sometimes people throw bar stools for no good reason.

Gordon couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone out with Scott – just Scott – for a reason that wasn’t mission related. He’d hit the town with Alan (not that alcohol was allowed on those occasions, what with the kid being underage and all that) a few times, and Virgil on more than a few post-mission de-stressors, but Scott was always too busy for frivolous things like having fun.

No more. It had taken some convincing, a lot of wheedling, and the strong-arm combination of Grandma and Virgil, but a blissful forty-eight hours’ downtime was being spent in England, just because they could. The gracious offer of being chauffeured around by Parker – made by her Ladyship, to the man’s apparent disgruntlement – just made the choice all the easier. And what better way to unwind than a nice, rowdy night in the pub?

Karaoke, free-flowing alcohol, and Scott’s communicator firmly confiscated in the Creighton-Ward manor to ensure he didn’t slip back into work habits meant that he was having the time of his life, and Scott seemed to be enjoying himself, too. At least, if the gaggle of girls he’d acquired, flirting with him and being flirted with in kind, was anything to go by, his big brother was definitely enjoying himself for once.

Unwilling to spend the entire night as the wingman, and definitely not interested in finding out if Scott managed to go further than just exchanging some smooth words, Gordon had found himself over by the pool table. He’d spent enough time in pubs – even if he’d been underage for most of it and Scott (probably) didn’t know that – to be able to find entertainment with a group of strangers, so separating from his brother wasn’t much of an issue.

He was good at pool, too. Good enough to quickly work his way through the ranks until he was the champion everyone else paid to play, and all in all he was having a really good time of it. The drinks were good, the company was fantastic, and best of all, he was having a blast. Maybe later he’d drag Scott away from the girls for a game – show the Londoners exactly how good the Tracys were (and hope Scott was inebriated enough not to beat him, because Scott played a mean game sober).

At least, that was the plan. The world liked to mess with plans.

It started with raised voices. Nothing unusual in a pub, especially now it was entering late evening and the alcohol had been flowing for a while. Gordon thought nothing of it, and continued to roast his latest challenger at pool, beaming when the black ball found the pocket. Well-meant congratulations passed between the two of them – they had manners, after all – and Gordon cast around for his next opponent.

Then the tingle ran up his spine, and immediately on its heels came a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, bro,” the guy – Dennis, Gordon had trounced him two games earlier to much laughter and another pint – started. “Didn’t you come in with that guy?”

There was only one that guy he’d come in with, and combined with his squid sense kicking in, Gordon had a sinking feeling as he turned to look at where he’d left Scott.

Just in time to see a bar stool smash into his head.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just Gordon’s default reaction to seeing someone smash a bar stool over his brother’s head, but his vision went red. The pool cue dropped, but he paid no attention to where it landed, already surging forwards towards where his brother had crumpled to the floor.

Someone was laughing, someone else was screaming, but Gordon had eyes for only two things: his unmoving brother, and the guy still holding the bar stool aloft.

“Hey!” he roared, elbowing gawkers out of the way and slamming into the guy hard enough to make him loose his grip on the stool. It fell to the floor with a crash, thankfully missing Scott, followed by the man himself. Gordon kept his feet, feeling the buzz of alcohol mixing with adrenaline, and placed himself firmly between the aggressor and his brother.

Everyone else backed off; in his periphery Gordon could tell that the three of them – him, Scott and the stool-wielding asshole – were loosely ringed in by the other patrons of the pub, all looking on with varying emotions ranging from astonishment, fear, and bloodlust.

“You with ‘im?” Stool-Bastard spat, pulling himself to his feet with a glower that was supposed to be intimidating. Gordon hadn’t served in WASP to be cowed by a drunkard in a London pub.

“You attack him for a reason?” he shot back, hearing shuffling noises from directly behind him. Good, that sounded like Scott was conscious. The pleasant fuzz of alcohol was gone, leaving him as sharply aware as it was possible to be after however many drinks he’d had, and he tallied everything up as the guy snarled, swaying on the spot but not attacking. Not yet.

Tabs were all paid up; no need to worry about any unpaid drinks. No sign of the bouncers, but that could change any moment and a barfight was not high on Gordon’s list of reasons to get arrested (yes, he had one. No, his brothers didn’t know about it). The nearest exit was… there, by the group of girls Scott had been with.

If Scott was conscious, as he suspected, it wouldn’t take much to get out of there. He just needed to not be attacked the moment he turned his back.

“’E was ‘itting on my girl,” the man snarled. Gordon had many things to say to that, including the fact that Scott – even drunk – had morals and that if the guy didn’t trust his girlfriend around other guys then maybe he should be looking for problems a little closer to home. He said none of them.

He didn’t have to. The girls surged forward, arguing the point for him – good for them, and did he need to take note of their names to hand over to Lady P? – and he took the chance to crouch down and assess Scott’s condition.

His brother had managed to drag himself up onto his elbows, one hand holding his head, and there was a scowl on his face. Blue eyes were dilated and a little unfocused, although how much of that was the alcohol as opposed to the knock, Gordon wasn’t entirely certain.

“You good to stand up?” he asked, gently touching where Scott was holding his head. The dazed blue eyes blinked at him for a second, and his brother grimaced but tried to move. Gordon caught him when he swayed, wedging himself under one arm and dragging Scott’s arm around his neck for support, wrapping a firm arm of his own around his brother’s waist.

Dennis from pool came over, clearly offering help, but Gordon waved him off with a smile that was probably more strained than he’d planned.

“I got him,” he said. “If you want to help, make sure that bastard doesn’t get another hit in.” He didn’t want trouble – this was supposed to be a relaxing downtime, dammit all – he just wanted to get Scott somewhere safe so he could check him over properly. Luckily, the man got the message and moved to stand so that he was blocking Stool-Bastard’s view of them, leaving Gordon to haul his brother out the door.

No-one else stopped him, and with a few stumbles – Scott was heavy, okay? – he got them over to a nearby bench, which Scott sank onto bonelessly. Gordon shot a quick message to Parker to come get them – fun night out was over – before turning his attention to Scott.

“You with me?” he asked, keeping an arm around his shoulders and peering at the shock of brown hair resting on his shoulder. “Scott?”

“M’fcker,” his brother slurred, sounding vaguely annoyed. He didn’t move, though, seemingly content to remain slumped against Gordon’s side and trust him to hold him up. It was just un-Scott-like enough for him to be a little worried, but he had also been drinking and he wasn’t entirely sure how much Scott had had. Nor had he actually ever seen Scott drunk before – at least, not without the buffer of Virgil and/or John to handle him. He vaguely recalled something about him being an affectionate drunk, though, so with any luck that was all that was.

Still, he ran his free hand through gelled hair, gently probing for signs of injury. Scott hissed when he reached the back of his head, where he’d seen the blow land, and Gordon explored the area lightly with his fingers. It didn’t seem like it was a bad knock – certainly not as bad as it could have been, and he was starting to realise it had actually only been a glancing blow rather than the square hit he’d initially thought – but it could definitely do with some ice and painkillers, and he was pretty certain there was a minor concussion in there, too.

No amount of alcohol explained Scott’s suddenly quiet and slightly lethargic attitude, when Gordon knew he’d been laughing and flirting right before the attack. Virgil was going to be so pleased.

“Hey,” he tried again, poking his cheek when he didn’t get an instant response. “Talk to me, Scott. What happened back there?”

Scott groaned at him and buried his face further into his neck in an additional show of drunk and concussed. “D’nno,” he muttered. Gordon felt more than heard the words. “M’fcker came’p ‘hind me ‘nd yelled sommat ‘bouta girl. D’nno what. Then th’bast’d hit me.”

A very small part of Gordon was amused at the filterless language. He knew Scott knew how to cuss – he’d Served, the same as he had – but Big Brother also had a very strong grip on his language around family. To hear what was no doubt a throwback to the Air Force days was quietly satisfying. However, most of Gordon was a combination of furious and worried, in approximately equal measures. Maybe a little more worried than furious, but there was a large part of him that really wanted to show the guy why you never messed with a Tracy.

Fortunately for his PR, Scott needed him here, not embroiled in a fight or spending the night in a lockup, so he swallowed down the rage and pulled his brother a little bit closer.

“Anything hurt except your head?” he asked, brushing his fingers through his hair again. Scott shook his head then groaned.

“’m fine,” he claimed, still not lifting his head from where it was buried in Gordon’s neck. “St’p fussin’.”

“I’ll stop fussing once we’re back at the manor and your head’s been looked at properly,” Gordon countered, to another groan. “How much did you drink?”

“Was’nly weak sh’t,” Scott told him. “Few p’ntsa cid’r.” Enough to get buzzed but not enough to get blindly drunk, then.

A breeze blew past them, reminding Gordon that London was in England and therefore cold. Scott shivered just a bit – not enough to be noticed if he wasn’t plastered against Gordon’s side – and he tightened his grip again. Neither of them were dressed for the night air, not with the original plan being for them to remain inside the pub until Parker arrived, and the thin jacket Gordon did have on wouldn’t fit his brother, even if he could peel him off long enough to shuck it.

“Not the best end to an evening,” he mused instead, rubbing at the denim jacket Scott had on in a vain attempt to give him a little more warmth.

“C’n say thattag’n,” Scott agreed, burrowing into his side even more. Gordon assumed he was trying to leech body heat. “S’posed t’be fun.”

“Well we’ve got all of tomorrow to lounge around the manor,” Gordon reminded him, spying a flash of pink approaching at speed. “You know that’ll be fun.”

“W’th this h’ngov’r?” Scott complained. Gordon winced – he had a point.

“It’ll be fine,” he promised, letting go of his brother with one hand to flag Parker down. “Water and painkillers and you’ll be good as new.” Depending on the severity of the concussion, that might be stretching it a bit. Scott was definitely going to be off duty for more than another day, though.

FAB1 pulled to a stop next to them and Parker jumped out, eyes sharp and alert as he took in their condition.

“Trouble, sirs?”

“Someone took a swing at Scott with a bar stool,” Gordon admitted, prodding his brother. Parker’s eyes narrowed and he suspected Stool-Bastard might find his own brand of trouble later, once Parker was convinced they were safe. The man seemed to have a soft spot for Scott – hell knew he didn’t have one for Gordon, despite his best efforts to the contrary. “C’mon, Scott. Let’s get you in the car.” His brother groaned but at least made a token effort to stand up, freeing Gordon long enough for him to get to his own feet and haul Scott up. Parker slid around to Scott’s other side without waiting to be asked, and between them they helped him stagger into the back seat, where he promptly slumped again. Gordon slid in beside him and was immediately reclaimed as a pillow, which he resisted long enough to make sure they were both strapped in before allowing Scott to bury his head in his neck again.

“’Ow ‘is ‘e?” Parker asked as he slipped back into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb. Gordon caught sight of him looking at them in the rear view mirror and offered a tight grin.

“Minor concussion,” he answered, running his hand through Scott’s hair again, to a quiet noise that could have been either complaint or contentment. “He also drunk enough to get buzzed, so I’m not entirely sure how much of this-” he shrugged at the big brother draped against him “-is that.”

“Hmm.” Parker sounded unconvinced, but did at least return his attention to the road.

Gordon glanced down at his brother and poked him lightly.

“You’d better not be falling asleep on me, Scott,” he warned.

“’M n’t,” came the muffled response. “W’k m’up wh’n we g’t therr.”

“Scott, no,” Gordon scolded, shrugging his shoulder and forcibly peeling his brother off of him. “You’re concussed. Don’t sleep.”

The baleful glare he got was pretty pathetic, on the Scott scale, but his brother huffed in defeat.

“F’n,” he grumbled. Gordon caught his head when he attempted to bury it in his neck – again – and guided it to rest normally on his shoulder.

“We’ll have a proper look at the manor,” he promised. “Then you can rest.”

Scott huffed, but didn’t close his eyes again. He did, however, wrap an arm around Gordon in a tight grip, which he returned in kind.

“Are you always this cuddly when you’re drunk?” he asked. The grumble he got wasn’t a coherent answer, but the way Scott purposefully looked away was. Gordon laughed. “That explains why you don’t go out drinking with us much. Do any of the others know this?”

“Shuddup,” Scott grumped. It was a shame he was also concussed, otherwise the blackmail would have been glorious.

Aw, who was he kidding. As soon as Scott came out the other side clear, it was totally acceptable blackmail. For now, though, he was content to hold onto his brother while Parker drove them back to the manor, more than a little relieved it hadn’t been worse.

So much for a relaxing night out with his brother.

#fluffember #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #gordon tracy #scott tracy #aloysius parker #thunderfluff

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