#then why did you say it in the first place…
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
nightingale-prompts · 3 days ago
Text
Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt
Warning: Blood and gore
There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.
Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.
The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.
Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.
The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.
The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.
The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.
Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.
The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.
There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.
It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.
Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.
To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.
As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.
"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."
The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.
Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.
"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.
"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.
Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.
This time the boy spoke differently.
"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.
The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.
Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.
Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-
"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.
He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.
He flinch as he pushed the thing away.
"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.
He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.
"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."
The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.
"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.
This was hell. This was his hell.
But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.
Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.
****
"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"
After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.
"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.
"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.
"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.
"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.
"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.
"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.
797 notes · View notes
postracehair · 2 days ago
Text
trust me
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
max verstappen x reader | 2.3k
after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.
cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.
a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.
__
The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.
Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.
But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.
Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.
You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.
"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"
"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.
"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.
"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."
That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.
But you should know better, it seems.
"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."
You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."
"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."
He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.
"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"
You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.
"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."
Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.
The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.
"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.
"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."
"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."
That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.
You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.
"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."
"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."
Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"
You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?
"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."
He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.
But how do you explain this?
"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.
But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.
You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"
His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"
You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."
Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"
Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."
You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.
"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."
One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.
"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."
"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"
If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.
"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."
He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.
"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."
He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.
Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.
"You trust me, right?"
"Of course," you say right away. "Always."
"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."
"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.
"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."
Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."
You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.
Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."
He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.
"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."
Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.
"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.
"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"
Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"
"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"
The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.
And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.
"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."
"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
484 notes · View notes
rqnarok · 2 days ago
Text
old man!logan hearing ‘i love you’ for the first time…
cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. fem!reader. angst w/comfort.
Tumblr media
His words would be barely a hoarse whisper—a certainty in disguise—you could barely hear it.
The first time he said ‘I love you’ was whilst he was softly cooing you to sleep. You were resting your heavy head on his chest and letting yourself melt into his embrace when he murmured: 
“I love ya’, sweet’art.” 
He was not sure that you heard it. That you could register the underlying hesitation in his face. His arm twitched a bit when he realized what he had said, muttering a quiet ‘Fuck’ under his breath. 
Logan feels a knife jabbed into the torso and twisting his insides—fright creeping on his neck—all the terrible things. It only halts when you snuggled closer to him as a way to show him that you accept his heartfelt confession. 
The first time you say it, though, means everything to Logan. Because for a while now, he holds onto a belief that you would never say the words back. And that you could leave him any moment soon. What the hell a young thing like you are doing around an old man like him? 
He thinks all he does is pull you back from the life that you deserve. 
Logan sits lazily on the couch with aching tiredness after a long day. His heavy eyelids watch your cunt latching around his thick girth, your tits bare, and nipples perked in arousal. He takes his time in enjoying the sight of you bouncing excitedly on his cock, still full of a youthful stamina.
“Tha’s it. There ya’ go, princess,” Logan grunts heavily as he places his rough hands on your sides—guiding you back and forth—drawing circles on your bare form. He could feel his back getting sore but he didn’t care, “Makin’ your old man feel s’good, y’know that?”
“Mhm!” You start to slow down your movements after you reach your second orgasm for the night. Overwhelmed by the euphoric state and the feeling of his cum filling your insides that you could only call out to him, “Logan…”, wrapping your arms weakly around his neck. 
His scruffy beard touches your skin and leaves a burning sensation behind. It all feels so intimate and real and you just can’t stop yourself from uttering the words, “I- I love you, Logan. Love you.”  
And the wave that washes him is greater than anything he had ever experienced. His eyes blinked repeatedly in awe and he could feel the tears building up.
Fuck. He can’t cry. Shit. 
He softly pulls your head onto his solid chest because he can’t let you see the tears that are about to fall on his cheeks. Can’t let you see how flawed of an old man he is when you repeat those words again and again,
“Love you, love you, love you.” 
What kind of a heroic thing he did to deserve you? Nothing that he was sure of. But you’re here making The Wolverine weak on his knees—his adamantium hand tremors in struck.
Before this, Logan was never sure that he had a purpose in life. Those wasted years, he thinks. But when you are splayed bare in front of him—telling him that you love him—he finally understands why he is alive.
648 notes · View notes
brayneworms · 3 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
no, you hang up! | shota aizawa
Tumblr media
kinktober day three: phone sex
word count. 2.2k
content. phone sex, reader and aizawa are coworkers, mutual masturbation, referenced age gap (once and it's minor + doesn't contribute to their relationship dynamic), dirty talk, no genitals for reader mentioned, gender-neutral reader, teasing (reader calls him names but it's all fairly playful), pre-relationship.
♪ agora hills — doja cat
kinktober mlist | regular mlist
Tumblr media
You know it's him before you even look.
Your room is blue-dark, cold; the central heating must have turned off hours ago, still on to warm you to sleep even beneath two comforters. The recent winters were no joke—you walked around town at the moment with dry, blistering lips and dull skin and watery eyes. Even now, as you raise your head from the comfort of your sheets to the arid air, gooseflesh breaks over your skin.
Something pulses; it's what woke you in the first place. Some noise, some shift in the quiet. Outside it's still dark, not yet late enough for the light to start turning greyish and buoyant. It takes a muddled, groggy few seconds as the static in your head starts to clear that you realise it's your phone. 
You grope blindly for it; it's only vibrating, but you're a tepid sleeper at the minute, and it's more than enough to rouse you from whatever fitful slumber you'd managed to fall into. You have to be careful not to forget and turn on your side, put pressure on the sling that binds your arm as you reach under the sheets for your phone as it rings, rings, rings out. 
You slap a hand across the plastic case, lift it with a wince at the cold blue light that shines out like fingernails down a chalkboard. But yeah—when you read the name AIZAWA across the top of the screen in informal white capitals, you can't honestly say you're surprised.
You stab the green button on what's probably the eighth or ninth ring. "Yeah?"
There's a moment where he doesn't say anything. Where the line crackles the way the ozone layer does before the first strike of lightning. "...Did I wake you?"
"Yeah," you say again, returning to your back. Your bound arm gives a twinge of protest. 
"Sorry," he murmurs, in that dry tone of his, the one that rarely manages not to sound clipped and bored. "I guess I didn't realise how late it is."
You pull the phone away, glancing for the first time at the time in the right-hand corner. 02.11am. He did have a nasty habit of letting the night slip away from him—and his regular bouts of insomnia mean the lateness of the hour doesn't always impress upon him as it does for most people—but you suspect there may be more to it than that. There's a hesitance, a reluctance in his voice. 
"It's okay," you say finally. "Have to pee anyway."
The static rises as he huffs down the line. "How's the arm?"
"Feels like roadkill," you mumble, which doesn't make a lot of sense. But sue you, you're tired and the painkillers wore off in your sleep. "Why're you calling?"
Another crackle, a soft shift, like an out-of-tune radio adjusting frequency. "No... particular reason."
As the fatigue starts to clear from your heavy brain, you try to picture it. Shouta Aizawa—evidently not patrolling tonight, given the lack of cityscape din in the background of the call. It's quiet; you can maybe hear the low purr of a ceiling fan. Earlier, he'd shifted, and you'd heard the rustling of sheets. So, he's in bed. Lying there. Alone. Calling you.
He's pretty transparent. But to his credit, you don't think he's trying to be conspicuous. It's not incredibly in his nature. And it's not in yours to call him out on it, either, which he knows. It's why he does it.
Does, not like—like this is a regular thing, or anything. There have been one or two what you like to refer to as unrelated incidents over the eight-year course of your working relationship. A kiss at a New Year's party that lingered a moment too long, the time he took you home after a night at the bar with the other U.A. staff and you couldn't be in the staffroom alone with him for about a fortnight afterwards.
"Just missing the sound of my voice?" you ask, trying not to sound too coy. You don't want to make him skittish, and anyway you have a feeling he hates when you try to play up your (in your opinion) minor age difference. 
Another rustle, quieter, shorter. "...Something like that," he murmurs. His voice is soft, despite the timbre of it reaching down to some pit in his chest. 
"So should I talk?" you press. 
"Sure," he replies.
"About what?"
"Anything." He swallows. "Whatever... whatever you'd like to talk about."
You roll your tongue over your lower lip, suck it for a moment whilst you think. "I miss work," you start. Boring, mundane—testing the waters. "Being stuck at home sucks. And all my friends are my coworkers, so you're all at work every day. 'S pretty lonely."
"I see." There's a hint of strain in his voice, one that makes a dim chord strike somewhere low and pitiful inside you. You cross your legs over each other. "You know we'd visit if we had the time."
"Yeah, I know. I bought myself plants to give myself a reason to get out of bed," you say, casting a glance over at them as they rest on your windowsill. Their leaves wink and shiver in the current of cold breeze let in from the crack in your window. "I have to get up twice to water them. And then when I'm up, I think, I might as well get something to eat, exercise. Shower."
The last work is deliberately provocative, like pressing on a ripe bruise to see when it starts to hurt. Your reward is the faintest hitch of Aizawa's breath. 
"I talk to Hizashi every day," you continue, trying to keep your own voice even. The silence on the other end of the phone sounds deafening, your heartbeat starting to get uncomfortably forceful in your chest. "He texts a lot, about silly things. Keeping me up to date on stuff at the school. It's not the same as being there, but it's sweet that he tries." You pause. "I wish I could see everyone, though. Hey—can I see you?"
You let the question hang. Lining up a hunting rifle to a buck's head, letting it decide to stay or flee. Then,
"Hang on." It comes through gruff and short, but it makes your stomach twist all the same. A moment later, your phone hums with a notification. It hangs, a grey banner at the top of your screen. From Aizawa, with a photo attachment.
Your mouth goes dry as you stretch your thumb to tap it. It's a flash photo of a barely-lit room. You can see dark blue sheets and a grey comforter, and two legs in slouchy grey sweats, cocked apart, shoved halfway down his thighs. But in the crux of the photo—
"Jesus," you blurt before you can stop yourself. You hear Aizawa huff a noise on the other end of the phone, could be laughter, could be something else. It’s not like your entirely inexperienced with Aizawa’s cock, but that was a while ago and there’s a big difference between a drunken sticky fumbling in the dark and seeing it properly, in low warm light, heavy and hard with his hand wrapped around it. His fingers, thick and pale, you can’t help but want them on you. Circled around your ankle, maybe, pulling you apart for him with that quiet, unassuming strength of his. 
“Is that a good or bad reaction?” he asks, and the note of strain is thicker than ever. He sounds strangled. “Should I start worrying—about my job position?”
“Probably,” you answer. “But—no. How long’ve you been touching yourself?”
You hear his breath hitch again at the casual crudeness of your words. “How long’ve you been on the phone?”
A hot red flash zips through you. Before your head has given your body permission, you’ve laid the phone down flat on your chest, speakers buzzing through your shirt as you slip a hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. You go straight for what feels good, finding yourself already embarrassingly ready, shuddering as your fingers brush the most sensitive parts of yourself. 
“You’re such a creep,” you groan, head back against the pillow. Aizawa makes a quick, cut noise in the back of his throat. “One week without staring down my shirt in the staff room and you resort to this?”
“I don’t—” He cuts himself off, sighing shakily. “I don’t stare.”
He does fucking stare, it’s just quite subtle and it took you a while to notice. 
“Yeah, right.” Your fingers curl and search, press and glide. You’re hot and wet, for him, for the first glimpse of lust since your leave of absence began. “Bet you’d do anything for a taste.”
“...Maybe,” he stammers, breathing hard and quick against the phone. Now you can hear a soft stream of sounds coming through, a shlck-shlck-shlck that makes your blood hot and your brain fuzzy. “Maybe I’ve thought about it. Once or twice.”
“Dirty old man,” you say, half-babbling, and he groans low in his throat. You wish you could see him, God you can picture it—head thrown back, thick dark hair splayed against the rumpled pillows like a funeral shroud, sleep shirt ruched up to show the soft pale plane of his stomach dusted with dark spiralling hairs. You’d follow the pattern down to where the hair was thickest, push your hand through to where he was hard and hot as a brand for you. You didn’t get much time to play with him before, restless and lazy and horny off the cheapest champagnes you could order at the bar; he’d been inside you before too long and back out far too soon. 
“I’m n-not…” Hearing his resolve start to crack and fracture is the hottest thing in the world. Your own fingers work faster, jamming at the spots that make your legs gooey and your stomach start to tauten. “Isn’t my fault you look like that.”
Your giggle is breathless, half a moan. “Took that right out of the old perverts’ handbook,” you mutter. “Don’t break a hip on your way over here.”
“Shut up, shut up,” he grunts. “Damn it—shouldn’t have called—”
“I’m glad you did,” you say. Sweat is starting to collect in your armpits and the back of your neck. “Been so bored. This is the first time I’ve felt anything in weeks.”
His breath is ragged. “What do you feel?” he asks hoarsely. 
“Hang on.” The photo you send is conservative compared to his; just a shot of your hand disappearing into the waistband of your shorts. But you hear his stifled whimper, low in his throat, crackling with desperation. 
“God,” he hisses. “You have no idea what I’d do to you.”
“I have—some idea,” you mumble. 
“No, not like before,” he growls. “I was too drunk to do much of anything. What a waste. I’d never let you go if I had you now. I’d make you cum three times before I even thought about fucking you. My mouth, my hands, my thigh, anything.”
You imagine the scratch of his stubble on your inner thigh, or your own legs clamped around the thick muscle of his thigh, and nearly white out. You’re not in control, not of the way your hips cant desperately against your hand or the desperate moan his words pull from you, turning to stifle it into the pillow. 
“I want you inside me so bad,” you find yourself babbling, hot with embarrassment over the desperation in your voice. You sound close to tears. “Jesus—your hands, I’m always thinking about it. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
He makes a keening, desperate noise, like a starving animal going for food. “Show me.”
You barely hesitate, ripping your shorts and underwear all the way off, and it’s only a few more desperate strokes of your fingers until you feel them flood over, your whole body shuddering and legs twitching. Your chest heaves and you blink up at the ceiling, withdrawing your hand from between your legs. Very awkwardly, you manage balance your phone enough in your slung hand to take a photo, the flash illuminating the mess between your thighs, the gleam of your own spend on your fingers. Before you can let embarrassment get a hold of you prematurely, you send the picture to Aizawa.
The result in instantaneous. He pulls a breath through his teeth. “God—fuck, look at you. So messy. God, I’m—” A choked-off moan, the breathiest noise you’ve ever heard from him as he cums. You lie there, warm all over, your skin singing as you listen to him fall apart on the other side of the phone. The speakers tickle your skin as you scrub a hand down your face.
After, you listen to his harsh panting breath. Then there’s a pocket of silence, the sort neither of you know how to break.
Finally, you cave. “...Feel better?”
“Don’t,” he mumbles. “This was… highly inappropriate.”
“Agreed.”
“I shouldn’t have called.”
“Probably not.”
There’s a pause. “...Is it fine? That I did?”
A smile touches your mouth. “Yeah, it is.”
He huffs. You picture him rubbing at his eyes, drawing the skin inward to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Well, then… yes. I do feel better.”
“Get off work early sometime,” you murmur. “I get so bored around here. Could use the company.”
You’re not sure why, but you think he’s smiling. “I’ll clear my schedule.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @deltamel (+ask to join!!)
409 notes · View notes
sterpernie · 3 days ago
Text
Probably no one will read this, but I hope someone will. To my fellow Americans, it is absolutely fair to cut people off for beliefs you disagree with and may one day lead to you suffering harm, but if you have someone you love with these beliefs that you are thinking about cutting out of your life, please consider a few things first.
1. We are living in echo chambers, repeating our beliefs back at us. If we don't interact with people who believe differently, how are they ever going to hear a different perspective that is not completely twisted by the media they consume?
2. They often don't understand what they are asking for. There is a sizeable minority (1/3 of Americans per the NYT) that do not know Obamacare and the Affordable Care Act (ACA) are the same thing. They want to repeal Obamacare but keep the ACA. People want tariffs not realizing that they aren't the same as sanctions. They don't realize that China is not going to be paying the tariffs, they will. China is not going to eat the costs of the taxes (tariffs) levied against them for exporting to the US, China will just raise the prices of their goods and probably levy tariffs against US exports to China in retaliation like they did during Trump's last term, resulting in everything getting more expensive. It it pretty striking to look at the education demographics of who voted what party.
3. They don't get the whole story. There was an immigration bill that would give the Republicans basically everything they wanted in regard to the border. Trump killed it because he wanted immigration to remain an issue for him to run on. My dad, who listens exclusively to right wing media, heard nothing about it. He was shocked it didn't pass when he was told. When he hears about Palestinians, he only hears about them referred to as terrorists and Hamas, attacking Israel unprovoked. He has never heard about the Nakbas or about how terrible the conditions were in Gaza even prior to October 7th.
4. A scary amount of Americans have no damn clue how the US government works. They think, abortion protections were repealed under democrats, so it's their fault despite the extensive groundwork laid by Republicans ever since Roe v Wade was initially decided in the 1970s culminating in a Republican supermajority on the Supreme court that actually overturned the ruling. They think, why am I paying taxes to forgive someone else's student debt when I didn't go to college/payed off my college loans/worked my butt off for scholarships/made sacrifices so I could afford college/etc, not realizing that the debt forgiveness is really just making sure the programs that were already in place are actually implemented instead of allowing the loan servicers to continue milking these people for cash long after their debt should have been forgiven. They think the economy and how good/bad it's doing is solely up to the President despite the fact that the purse strings are held by Congress and the Federal Reserve, which controls interest rates, is an independent body not controlled by the President.
5. For the immigrants, they don't realize that all immigrants are persona non grata, not just people who came to the US illegally. My immigrant mother told me she votes for Trump because he's "gonna stop all the immigrants who are coming to take our jobs", not realizing that despite her naturalized citizenship, she will always be seen as one of those immigrants she talks about. She doesn't realize when he talks about chain migration, he's talking about the system she took advantage of to bring multiple members of her family to the US and allowed them much better quality of life than the relatives still in her home country. She thinks, because she lives in a large urban coastal area, that all parts of the US are just as accepting.
If you have a loved one with whom your only problem is politics (not abuse of any kind, but someone you love and care for), please consider staying in their lives. I am not saying make friends with people to try and change their beliefs, I am saying give your loved one a face to put to the "radical libs".
when people are like “oh so you’re just gonna judge someone for their political beliefs?” yes actually. I think someone’s values and opinions is a pretty reasonable thing to judge them for.
139K notes · View notes
kamiversee · 2 days ago
Text
˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
Tumblr media Tumblr media
10 | I know that's
Tumblr media
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.
❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
Tumblr media
——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.
Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.
Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy. 
But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?
“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”
Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”
He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”
Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.
You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”
“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”
“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”
You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”
“Yeah, hopefully.”
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.
Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything. 
You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on. 
Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.
And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.
Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…
No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.
You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.
You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.
It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…
“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you. 
A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.
His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”
Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.
Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.
No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.
Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.
You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.
“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone. 
Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.
His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—
You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”
Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.
His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.
“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”
Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”
That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.
Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.
After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).
Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.
Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.
The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume. 
“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.” 
When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.
You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.” 
Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”
You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”
His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“
“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.
Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”
There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.
He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”
Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.
Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.
There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.
It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there. 
Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.
And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.
It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.
His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.
His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—
“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”
You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.
Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.
You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”
He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”
You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath. 
“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”
Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him. 
Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.
It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.
The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to. 
There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.
You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.
“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.
Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“
“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.
Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.
Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”
Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”
It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.
You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.
By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.
“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.
“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.
“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.
He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”
There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.
“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”
Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”
Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.
With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.
It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment. 
After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again. 
You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.
You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.
“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.
Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.
She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”
You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”
Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”
“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.
“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.
Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.
“Aww, thanks. I think I—“
“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.
Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.
“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.
Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”
Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”
You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”
“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“
“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?
Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.
Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…
His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”
Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.
To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.
Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.
You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.
Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.
The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.
Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”
He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”
It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people. 
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.
In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be. 
Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.
His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.
Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.
Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.
The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.
And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music). 
How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.
Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.
As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.
It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.
But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—
“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.
Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”
He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca. 
The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.
Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”
“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”
His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”
“You scared me!” You huff out to him.
Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”
Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.
Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”
Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“
“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”
“What—“
He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”
You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing. 
Tumblr media
mlist | last chapter | next chapter |
Tumblr media
Tags 1/2; @siriusblackswankourtzeyy @eternaltpaoe @moonsgravee @sooshisweet @looking4hina
@blognicole @designerpvssy @andyfasia @shytragedybluefox @papigotwap
@senseifupa @gojoslefttoenail @juliiizh @gojos-cumslutt @lovergirl65
@sydlunamoon-blog @gojstrulxvezx @gigiipeaches @kivrumi @urunclesbottomlip
@iseeyouuu @annieleonhardtsbitch @lwkykiyo @itsbellablue-blog @gorouenjoyer
@mua-for-now @bee3l0v3r @scarletteyuno @lilablogsblog @lolznoelle
@madaqueue @keriaonmarz @parakisssss @aniniyah @trx-xrt
@sxnkuna @chocolatecheer @unibrow-yzz @lovely-lady-tits @woofzz2
@pineapplepan7 @janrcrosssing @hauntedchoso @linksylove @lemonninq
@littlemug00 @namjoonie17717 @notjustagirlinthisworld @moonneversleeps @k4rma1sntd3ad
306 notes · View notes
whatifitis · 6 hours ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡
Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.
Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭
WC: 1045
CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff
You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.
Fucker 
It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 
For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 
However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 
Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 
Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 
The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 
Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 
The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 
Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”
As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 
The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 
Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 
What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!
As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 
Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 
The cheeky fuck. 
“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 
“A mattress?” you ask.
“A mattress.” 
After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”
“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 
He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 
“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 
You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”
You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 
“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 
Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 
“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 
You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”
“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”
You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 
238 notes · View notes
sharoo · 7 hours ago
Text
Self-knowledge as a theme in STP messes me up so bad, bros.
This all starts with how little the Princess can tell you if you ask her about herself. How little you can say about yourself, more often than not. Most of the time Quiet doesn't even know what they look like!
The Narrator makes it a point to make the Princess' cluelessness, her lack of self-knowledge, into deception, but really, both the protagonists don't know themselves. How could they?
The concepts of bounds, of something that isn't you, the distinction of "self" and "other", "you" and "I", the concept of something being not like yourself... this is the first time this deity which is now two has ever experienced it.
The Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet did not exist until the Narrator tore a whole into parts.
Now, this deity in twain has to reorient. It has only begun existing, it's not yet known itself. A toddler has to develop a self-concept, and the concepts of others.
Now imagine, for the first time in your solitary existence, that there is something that you are not. Unknowable, foreign.
What are they like, you think? Are they a friend? Should I get to know them? Are they a foe? I do not know them, I cannot trust them... Or can I?
This brings to mind, of all things, Contrapoints' video on Twilight, where she speaks about the concepts of Union and Division in relation to love. And while she speaks of it in terms of eros, it can apply here just as easily, romantically and platonically.
Love is the union of two beings. We love because something outside of us allows us to be more than ourself. In others, many seek that which they lack. We seek out people so that we may develop through our similarities and contrasts with them, to change an be changed.
We seek out people because there can be no I without a You. To exist in a void is not a fulfilling experience.
We cannot discover ourself if he have nothing that allows us to compare ourself. The mirrors elude us throughout the game, always leading to the princess - she is the only way we may know ourselves, the mirrors tease as they disappear. And at the end of the route, only then, can you see yourself, now that you have a complete knowledge of yourself in a given scenario, with a given persona.
Was the princess someone you decided to trust? Or to betray? Was she a foe? A friend? A nightmare? A victim?
You both try to find out who you are through your relationship.
The princess assumes many faces and attitudes in response to you, you assume voices and attitudes in response to her. You're two batches of clay shaping each other at the same time. It's almost like knowing someone your entire life, seeing them go through different phases as they try to find out their identity in the world, their place. The 5 routes, whatever they be, are your "adolescence".
And growing means you will hurt each other, intentionally or not. There will be fights, disagreements, there will be heartache, and comfort and love.
And everything will pass.
Shifty, before she's complete, before she discovers her godhood, makes this point so clear.
How could she not be kind to you? You are the only thing in this place that is not her. What reason could she have to hate you? To make the only friend she could have into an enemy?
That's why, at the end of every route, all hurts are forgiven. All the heartache is acknowledged, understood, and then she moves on. So that you may continue being together, so that she may see what else you do.
Even godhood can become a phase. The Shifting Mound recognises what you both were, but it need not be you unless you accept it. Because self-knowledge is unending. You are always changing, and you can always change.
You can accept being a god, and that becomes you.
You can reject being a god, and that becomes you.
You are by that point an "adult". The figure trying to dictate who both of you are is gone, and you can decide for yourself.
I think this is partially why I love the Leave with Stranger ending the best of all the endings. You begin it by avoiding knowledge of yourself and of another. The self can only exist as far as it is not like the others.
And you meet the Stranger, this being who knows so little about herself, because she too has been deprived of another. The route is quick. It really cannot amount to much, because if you don't know yourself, it's so hard to build a relationship.
But at the end, they've matured. You gave each other time to become fuller beings. You met this person again and they seem so much happier with themself than they were in youth.
I love how they say "We're just a stranger.", and the voices point out how it needn't be sad that you don't know her, unless you make it out to be. You can get to know them, the real them, and they can do that with you.
The way the Stranger speaks if the position of a God only underlines how much the heart of the Shifting Mound can understand self-knowledge.
They speak of how they feel themself be pulled towards taking the position of godhood, of being everything, yet find it confining. Restricting.
"We want more. We want whatever might be on the other side of this door. Something new, that we'll experience together. With someone who exists outside of us. Someone who can see us in a way we can never see ourself."
Self-knowledge through relationships and reflection on how you impact other people.
232 notes · View notes
supernovafics · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
boyfriend!steve who loves recording everything
wc: 899
a/n: been thinking about this a lot a lot and finally got around to writing it
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“and here we have my beautiful girlfriend who put this whole party together.”
you looked into the video camera for a brief second, drunkenly smiling into it before looking up at steve. “you’re having way too much fun with this thing already, birthday boy.”
“what? it’s actually a very cool gift.” you could tell steve was a little drunk too, but you didn’t think that would’ve changed how into the gift he was; the camera the kids pooled their money together to get for him. “say hi.”
“hi,” you said, smiling and looking right into the lens again, and then you playfully stuck your tongue out at it. 
“i love you,” steve said with a soft happy laugh. “so much.”
“i love you too. so, so much,” you told him and he leaned down to kiss you. 
“thank you again for doing this whole thing,” he mumbled against your lips. “best surprise ever.”
you couldn’t help but smile. “no need to thank me. you deserve it, best boyfriend ever.”
the camera was filming the wooden floor at this point, but it probably still picked up what you two were saying. 
you pulled away from steve after a second, knowing that the longer you two were wrapped up in one another, the more your friends would playfully make fun of the two of you.
“you should go film robin and nancy doing karaoke. i think that them drunkenly singing bohemian rhapsody needs to be documented.” 
steve nodded. “great idea.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
after that first night, it should’ve been obvious, but that camera became steve’s favorite thing. it almost made the new pair of nikes you’d gotten him look like the most boring gift ever, but you didn’t really mind it.  
it was always the most random moments that he wanted to record of you two. “for memories” was always his response when you asked why he wanted to record you two brushing your teeth in the morning or you two lying on the couch and watching a bad movie that he brought home from family video. 
or even in this moment when you two were cooking in the kitchen of your shared apartment.
you immediately gave him a look when you noticed him turn on the camera. “steve, you’re making it seem like we’re cooking something super elaborate. it’s just a grilled cheese.” 
“it’s still like a fun cooking show,” he said, smiling as he set the camera up on the counter, placing it on top of a stack of random containers. “what do you need, chef?”
there was no way of telling if either of you were actually in the frame— you had a feeling that at least your heads were cut off— but still, you decided to play along. he was acting too cute and adorable not to. 
“bread and cheese, chef,” you told him as you went to grab a pan from the cabinet below you. “oh, and butter too.”
“got it,” steve nodded and went over to the pantry and then the fridge, and then made a show of showing the camera all of the ingredients he grabbed. 
you couldn’t help but laugh a little as you watched him. you decided to play along further and follow suit as you did most of the actual cooking; making a point of showing the camera exactly what you were doing and even exaggeratingly explaining it too. 
and when you two were eating at your small kitchen table ten minutes later, you admitted to steve with a smile that he was right, and filming everything did make it feel like a “fun cooking show.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
and then there were the moments when you were the one to grab the camera and initiate the recording. it was seldom, but when you did do it, steve always got the happiest grin on his face. 
like, in this moment, when you were coming out of the bathroom and grabbing steve’s t-shirt that had been haphazardly tossed to the floor thirty minutes earlier and slipping it over your body. for no particular reason, other than you found yourself wanting to, you grabbed the camera off of steve’s nightstand and then slid into his lap, straddling him.
he was already smiling as you turned on the camera and the familiar red light came on when you pressed record. 
“say hi,” you told him, your own smile on your face as you pointed the camera at him. his messy hair from what you two had previously been doing was probably the cutest thing you’d ever seen and you made sure the camera saw it. 
he smiled wider. “hi.”
one of his hands found your bare thigh and you let out a contented hum in response. 
“y'know, i’m surprised you haven’t asked to film us yet,” you said softly. "us doing what we just did…”
his eyes widened a bit at your shy suggestion and you smiled wider, zooming in on his expression. “is that an option?”
you stopped recording him then and reached over to set the camera back down on the nightstand. 
“maybe,” you answered, shrugging innocently. “i think it could be kinda hot.”
steve shook his head. “not just kinda. very hot.”
you leaned down to kiss him then. it was slow and languid and steve’s hands immediately went to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.  
“very hot,” you hummed in agreement. 
380 notes · View notes
diy-dynamite · 1 day ago
Text
Television Relations
》 2nd part of Television Influence
He sees a familiar face. || Mr. Crawling x GN!Reader
Warnings: spoilers for one of the endings, the reader is an assassin, some mentions of murder
Took inspiration from the members of Homicipher Unofficial (which u should definitely join, btw) (idk if they're ok with shoutouts so I'll just edit it later if they are)
********
SINCE the first day you introduced him to television, you left it on for him every day. It wouldn't do him any harm since he didn't seem to have any eyes, but he could still see bullshit from a mile away.
On one of the days, you checked on him while you tied down your target before he woke up to extract the information your client needed, and all of a sudden, Mr. Crawling blurted out a loud "No!"
You raised your brows in confusion, only to see him smack his hand on the screen lightly. You squinted your eyes, taking a closer look at the screen, and barked out a laugh when you realised he was watching the scene in Titanic where Rose was on a piece of debris salvaged from the ship, while Jack was in the water.
You figured he shouted in frustration. Your laugh awoke your target, though, so you quickly hit him with the blunt of your crowbar on a special part of the head to make him fall asleep again.
That was a normal Sunday for you.
You went back home with another successful mission, jingling your keys and coming home to an expectant Mr. Crawling, happily greeting you once again.
What you didn't expect, however, was that he led you to the living room instead of the kitchen. Normally, he'd take you there to give you a washed, uncut fruit like an apple or grapes, peeking over the table with a smile to see if you liked it. That was his way of trying to feed you since you fed him.
No, that didn't happen. Instead, he took you to the TV and sat you down there.
"Look, look," he pointed at the TV, the language rolling off his ink black tongue. "Friend."
You glanced to the TV and flinched—why the hell were they showing Sadako? That rom-com show was supposed to be on at this time.
"Er, did you switch channels, Mr. Crawling?" You muttered. He didn't respond as you tried to switch off the TV, but it wouldn't work.
"What is?" He pointed at your remote. You pressed at the off button again, but it didn't work. "Uhh, controls thing," you said, pointing at the TV.
"Why?"
"I kill," you heard her say, and you flinched, looking up at the screen, its static getting worse by the second. I never knew they spoke the same language.
Wait.
She's leaving the screen.
You grabbed your crowbar, ready to swing, but Mr. Crawling grabbed your weapon. You yanked it away, the adrenaline causing your hesitance to go away, but you paused once Mr. Crawling leapt to stand—sit—between you and Sadako.
"Friend! Friend!" he chirped, his voice clearly expressing frantic wobbles.
You lowered your weapon.
"Friend," he said again. He turned around and placed his hands on Sadako's head, then shoved her back in.
"No kill," he said. "Me love they."
"You love they?"
"Love they many."
"They love you?"
.
.
.
"Understand. Farewell."
The static behind the TV disappeared, and Sadako only sat in what looked like an empty room or hallway.
You were about to turn off the TV until you saw a tall, white silhouette walk past the screen.
The humanoid man bent down, and your heart nearly exploded at the sight of your old acquaintance, Mr. Silvair.
"Hello!" You exclaimed. The white-haired man smiled. "Hello," he said. "See you again."
He turned his head to Mr. Crawling and waved. "See you again."
Mr. Crawling only stared with his non-existant eyes.
"I bring this one," he pointed at Sadako and pulled her away from the screen.
The TV went black.
"...you're... friends with Sadako."
Mr. Crawling turned around to look at you with a line on his face—the line being his mouth.
You titled your head. "Why upset?"
"They ask. You love me?" He gestured between you and him. He lowered his head, glancing to the side. "You don't say."
You paused before replying, "But I love you. Many."
"But you say to other," he pointed at the black screen. "'Hello'! Fast."
What?
Your confusion was probably obvious since Mr. Crawling continued to explain.
"You don't say when friend ask you love me." His voice only got whinier, and his lips curled downward as he spoke. "You say fast when other came."
"I say hello to friend—" Oh.
He's saying you didn't say anything when Sadako asked if you loved him, and he's also comparing your response with how you spoke to Mr. Silvair.
You paused, and although a knowing smile crept onto your lips, Mr. Crawling's only began to tremble.
That was what made you stop from teasing.
"No, no," you waved your hands at him, dropping the crowbar to kneel in front of him. You took his head in your hands and messed around with his hair, rubbing back and forth. "I love you many! Love you many!"
He perked up, his adorable grin slowly coming back on his face. "Many?"
You nodded. "Many!"
"Kiss," he said.
He even leaned forward, closer to your face.
"Many kiss," he said.
You sighed.
Maybe introducing him to the TV was a bad idea.
********
HOPE U LIKED THIS :3 kinda rushed bc I'm about to sleep again LMAO so mistakes MIGHT be spotted
JOIN HOMICIPHER UNOFFICIAL GUYSSS
214 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 3 days ago
Text
The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader
Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader
Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)
Tumblr media
It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.
This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.
Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 
“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”
He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 
It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  
You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.
“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 
But his words… his words hurt the most. 
“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 
“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 
“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 
You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 
Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 
Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 
Until his voice brought you back. 
“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 
It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 
Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?
You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 
Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 
“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.
He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.
Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?
Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?
Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.
“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.
Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 
“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 
Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 
Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.
Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.
Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 
Back home. 
You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 
You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 
It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 
One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.
The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 
You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 
You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 
It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 
But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 
Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.
You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.
You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 
You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 
It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 
Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 
The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 
You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 
“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.
“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”
‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 
Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 
But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 
Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.
“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.
“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.
“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 
“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.
“They accept me,” he breathed.
“That’s because you are a scientist.”
He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”
“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”
“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”
Your breath hitched.
“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 
Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”
You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.
You panted, chest rising and falling. 
“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”
“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”
Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”
Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 
You gasped, chest tightening. 
“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 
Burnt toast, coffee, metal.
Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.
It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 
“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.
“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.
This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 
“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.
“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 
He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.
Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.
Burnt toast, coffee, metal.
Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 
You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 
You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.
Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 
His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.
The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 
“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 
You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”
“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 
“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”
Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.
Burnt toast, coffee, metal.
“S-so… close…” you whispered. 
Then you heard it.
A whisper.
You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 
You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 
‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.
But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 
You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.
You were frozen in place.
Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?
But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 
Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 
You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.
But right before you looked away, you saw it. 
You saw the glow.
A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 
You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 
The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 
Then you smelled it. 
Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.
Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.
You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.
“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 
You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 
“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 
He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 
His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 
You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 
You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 
His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.
“Here… let me show you.” 
Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 
The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.
His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.
You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.
A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.
You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 
“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 
“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 
His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 
“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”
His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 
“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 
“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 
It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 
“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.
“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 
Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 
“Like I always needed you?” 
You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 
“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 
He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 
Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 
As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 
“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”
“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 
213 notes · View notes
boopjuice · 2 days ago
Text
They all break their rules. Within about 6 weeks.
Wes, obviously, meets Red Robin and charms him with his word vomit. He's also charmed by Red Robin because damn, that suit does wonders for him, and because Red Robin is intentionally flirting at the adorable idiot he just saved.
Next is Tuck. They haven't been able to find the book in the private library but they know Tim has the book. They know because Tucker found signs of hidden doors. And, well, they really need to get Danny back in Amity Park, so he figures Sam will forgive him for a little hacking.
Que then using Wes to distract Tim, who gets an alert halfway through the conversation that someone's hacking into his home security system to try and gain access to his Nest. And unfortunately, he can't find a way to excuse himself to defend his own system.
Tuck gets to duke it out with Oracle. He loses, and hightails it back to where they were staying. With the laptop he was just hacking with.
That Oracle is definitely tracking now.
Then Danny. Sam find out about Tuck breaking his rule and goes on a very long rant before they realize the laptop Tuck was using? Yeah, that's probably compromised. Good thing it didn't have any personal information on it, we'll just leave it here and go find another spot to stay!
Cut to four teens dragging luggage behind them in the middle of Gotham, all trying to find a place to stay. They looks like tourists. They look like easy targets.
So a gang jumps them, and while none of the team are slouches in a fight, there's just too many to reasonably take on. So Danny, while Sam is screaming about "Not you too!", becomes Phantom just long enough to knock out and tie up the gang.
Sam gives him the biggest earful when he's done. AND they still need to find a hotel while they look for another apartment.
The Bats are searching. They find the first apartment, trace it back to the teens, and are now actively hunting them down because why are four teens trying to hack into the Bat systems?
They manage to track them back to their hotel, which was pretty hard with Tucker covering their tracks, but not impossible. They find them right as Ivy decides to attack this block because it was originally contracted to be a green space for the city for at least another 50 years, but someone did some shady shit and broke the contract.
Sam? Is so tired. Wes broke his rule. Tucker broke his rule. Even Danny, who was the one to suggest having rules in the first place, broke his rule. AND HE'D COME UP WITH THAT ONE!
So Sam figures it's about time that she gets to break her rule too.
And in the middle of a fight between Poison Ivy, Batman, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Orphan, Sam Manson marches out onto the battlefield and rips Ivy a new one. What good is she doing, harming innocent people and reducing the amount of places they could stay? Fixing the coral reefs would have significantly more positive impact on the world, so would fighting deforestation, which seems much more up Ivy's alley. But no, she's actively harming her cause by destroying people's lives, in the process making activism harder for other people, like Sam, who also want a greener planet.
Ivy tries to attack Sam, but she's Undergrowth's student. That's not about to happen. The plants can like Ivy all they want for her ties with the Green, they aren't going to attack someone personally tied to the Grey (I saw a head canon somewhere that instead of Sam being associated with plants, she should be associated with the Grey, which feeds into decay and reintroducing nutrients through that decay and I'm sticking with it).
Once the fight is over and the dust settles, all four Bats corner the teens, ignoring the stars in their eyes, because they really need to know why four high school juniors decided to try and break into their systems.
To which Tucker says, very helpfully, "We weren't? We just needed to get into Tim Drake's private library so we could find a ritual to help our friend."
The Bats have many, many more questions.
DCxDP Fic idea: What's the Rule again?
It starts with Wes Weston accidentally banishing Danny from his haunt. He didn't mean to, and he panicked along side Sam and Tucker when Danny was effectively evicted Danny from Amity Park.
See the four have become tight-knited friends every since the trio started talking to Wes back during the summer between freshman and sophomore year.
During that time, Wes's other friends had drifted apart once Wes' attention moved from basketball to ghosts- specifically Phantom. Danny had felt at fault that he was left a loner because of his secret identity and had invited Wes to sit with them at the Nasty Burger the second week of Summer break.
Wes was suprise to find out that Sam, Tucker and Danny were much better friends then the ones he hanged out with since third grade. He was used to people only speaking to him in class or the few times they hang out on breaks but the trio would message him about every single thought or meme they had. They could laugh togther until tears fell from thier eyes and they couldn't breath over the silliest of topics.
Wes also found out that the trio was supportive of all their interests. Sure, his old teammates and friends didn't make fun of him for crocheting or painting, but they wouldn't accompany him to an art market. Nor would they actually wear the scarves and gloves he made them.
They sure as hell didn't volunteer to help him run a booth to sell his own crocheting pieces after encouraging him to get a table. And they wouldn't cheer loudly when he made his first sale.
Wes also wouldn't have happily gone with them to an observatory, a Dark Poem Night, or even a tech expo. But he found that he had the time of his life watching Danny, Sam, and Tucker nerd out at the events much as much as he did at his own.
He also never had anyone he knew would be down to do him favors or even take notes for him when he was out sick.
So he became close friends with them, passing sophomore year with far more enjoyment than any other grade, then Junior year came and went just as fast and as fun. It was their last summer as high school students, so Wes wanted to do as many new activities as the four could together before Senior year.
Who knew what would happen to their little group after graduation? He wants to think they would all remain best friends but he's heard so many stories of people drifting apart that Wes was afraid of risking it.
That's why he researched urban myths and legends around the world regarding ghosts- more then any research paper he's ever done- and jokingly asked Danny to partake in some of them as a halfa.
They joked and laughed- throwing salt in a circle around Danny, lighting a candle for him to use Morse code with- but it wasn't until Wes got to the one where he tried smoking Danny out with a banishing spell he found in an old book that things turned from funny to horrible.
It worked
Danny was flung from his haunt- effectively banishing him from the area he was haunting. Dann just happens to be haunting all of Amity Park, so he ends up on the outskirts of town, unable to cross the invisible line.
Wes practically choked on his tears as he apologized for Danny not being able to cross back in, but the other three quickly informed him that they, too, took part in it, and it was no one's fault. Danny just had to find a way to reverse the banishing spell.
The only problem was that the book pages Wes found online were only on the banish spell itself and nothing else. He couldn't even find the whole book since it belonged in a private family library.
The family library was located in the most dangerous city in America. Gotham.
The library also belongs to a very wealthy family that had recently all but perished except for their lone heir- Timothy Drake.
Now Wes attempted to contact Timothy Drake in hopes of having the other teenager send him copies of the book, but he never got a reply. He thinks it was due to not explaining why he needed the book and ending up sounding like a bot or a scam.
With each passing day of Drake not responding Danny's situation grew worse. Jazz luckily covered for them, claiming to have signed Danny up for some camp so his parents wouldn't think he was missing.
That would only work until school started, which was a time limit that was weighing on all their shoulders as they tried to find a counterspell.
Jazz, Tucker, Sam, and Wes each took turns driving out of town to bring him food and a change of clothes so Danny could figure out his situation, having to do it in shifts to not alert any of their parents.
However, without his haunt to pick up natural exoplasm, Danny was growing weaker and weaker by the day, looking half stave out in the little motel room Sam rented for him as they tried to get him back into the town.
Danny needed to either make his way back to his haunt or go somewhere that was so infected with ectoplasm that it actually felt cursed.
Tucker found the solution to all their problems with a few hacking skills that he learned to fight off Technus' invasive attempts of his personal tech.
"A full ride to Gotham Academy?" Wes' mom gasped staring at the acceptance letter her son eagerly showed her. "With a promised full ride to any university in America?!"
"Yeah, Tucker, Sam, Danny, and I all got accepted for our work on clean energy generators. We sent it in for the Wayne scholarship, and we won! The only thing is that it's a requirement to graduate from high school in Gotham. I have to go!" Wes gasped, eyeing both his dad's and Kyle's doubtful frowns. He couldn't afford for them to say no when Tucker had worked so hard to bump them up as Winners. Bruce Wayne's computer security is no joke. "This is the once in a life time opportunity!"
"But where would you live?" His dad asks, shaking the letter. "Wes, this is clear across states, and it only covers school expenses."
"Sam's parents bought her a house. She's going to rent us some of the extra rooms." It was a lie; her parents would never let four boys- especially these boys- rent from their daughter. She told them that the school provided co-dorm rooms "I can get a job at the local library- I already sent them my resume and got a call for a interview."
"What will you do for food?" Kyle asks. "We both know you can't cook."
"I can't, but Danny does. He's amazing in the kitchen."
Here, his parents share a loaded look. "So you'll be living with the Fenton boy....."
"Well. Yeah? I already said that?" He returns, confused, and Kuule coughs to cover a laugh. Confused he stares at his older brother, who quirks a grin at him.
"Don't worry about it." Kyle laughs, but his wiggling eyebrows tell Wes he should worry a lot about it. He would inisit a little more to find out what Kyle knew, but he needed to convince his parents more.
Eventually, after five days of attempting, Wes got their permission and could tell his friends, who all shared the same results. The remainder of the summer is spent preparing for their move- finding the house, getting it furnished, packing their things, transferring schools- it's a lot, and he's never been so grateful for Sam's wealth.
She hires people to get it all done for her-including hiring a trailer to take their four cars-, so he only has to worry about his packing. The four meet up at the airport on the day they live, flying first class thanks to Sam's grandmother.
Tearful goodbyes and good luck from their families leave them all a bit down but they board the plane and take off without too much trouble.
While on the plane, Sam turns to the boys. "Does everyone remember the phases of the plan?"
"Phase one: Blend into Gotham until we find Timothy Drake" Tucker states, pushing up his glasses
"Phase two: Get Drake to invite us over to his house and find the book," Danny tacks on, tapping his foot on the ground.
"Phase three: Find all the pieces for the counterspell- usually scattered around the magical family's ancestral home- and get Danny home!" Wes shouts, raising a fist in the air.
Sam nods, looking satisfied. "And what are we not allowed to do? Danny?"
"Become a vigilante when my ectoplasm is on a limited intake" Danny grumbles, sinking into his chair. "Let it to the Bats and keep my head low."
"Good. Tucker?"
"I'm not allowed to hack into anything because it can gain the attention of the Bats or Mr.Wayne, and then we'll be on a wanted list" Tucker sighs "No matter how much fun it would be to battle it out with the legendary Oracle."
"That's right. I'm not allowed to go anywhere near Poison Ivy no matter how much I want to yell at her to go fix the coal riffs and cut down forests instead of wasting her powers on the stupid heist." Same all but bites, and then she turns her attention to Wes, who startles.
"Wes?"
"Wait, I have a rule?"
"Course, man," Tucker laughs. "We all have rules."
"But I'm not interesrted in anything in Gotham besides the Drake grimoire!"
"Wes," Danny says gently, his soft baby blue eyes making him a little hot under the collar as they stare into his soul. "You're not allowed to fall in love with any of the Bats."
Wes mind blanks, then reboots, "Excuse me!?"
"We know you had a crush on all of us here Wes and Val" Sam laughs when he turns wide eyes at her. "It's cute but you really shouldn't try for the Bats. They're the violent sort"
"What?!"
"Yeah, you have a type, and it's a hero or hero adjacent." Tucker shrugs "It's cool."
Wes can only gape at them, no matter how much he tries to convince them; otherwise, the three refuse to remove his rule. He is highly offended by it.
Yes, he's never really gone out with Team Phantom, just because when he joined the group, most of Danny's rouges were long gone leaving behind the tiny ones that he could handle on his own, but he wasn't into heroes!
And okay- maybe, maybe at one point or another he may have had slight crushes on his friends but they were quick and gone before the first school year together!
So the rule is utterly ridiculous!
At least, he thinks so until five days later when he's trying to find his way around the new neighborhood and gets caught up in a mugging. He could have quickly taken the mugger- humans had nothing on ghosts- but he attempted to talk the young adult out of it when Red Robin swooped in like a knight in shining armor.
He may have just stared at the hero's tight-skin outfit instead of letting the hero know that he could handle it, and he may have made a fool of himself when Red Robin asked if he was right.
"Yeah tots fine" He babbles. Ugh, who says tots?! He wants to stop talking but when Wes gets nervous he tends to just word vomit and he could hear himself doing it now. "You know who else is fine?"
Red Robbin raises a brow, likely knowing the pickup line. Cowering, Wes changes the answer in a panic. "Timothy Drake!"
Red Robin stills. "Come again?"
"Timothy Drake, a boy in my class! He's fine that you think he was part siren or something. You've seen him, right? I mean you have eyes!" He repeats with a squeal "I want to get into his private liberty!"
"Do you?" Red Robin tilts his head, a slight smirk forming on his mouth. "You should try flirting with him then. Maybe he can give you a tour."
"Oh, I want more than a tour!"
Why did he say that?!
At least the hero in front of him laughs until a shout has them both looking away.
Danny is running down the street screaming his name, thank the Ancients. When Wes turns around to wave at him, Red Robin vanishes without a sound or trace.
Like a ghost.
Oh no, that's hot.
"Danny, I broke the rule"
"For Ancient's sake, it hasn't even been a month."
2K notes · View notes
lyjen · 1 day ago
Text
Trust me | Evan “Buck” Buckley
Summary: When Buck and (Y/n) go to Bobby to tell him the news that (Y/n) is pregnant, they get interrupted by the sound of the alarm. Everything seems to run smoothly on the call, until the bridge collapses with (Y/n), Eddie and a victim in the back of the ambulance. Putting (Y/n)’s pregnancy at risk.
A request by: @shauna-carsley
Feel free to send in request in my “Ask me a question 👀” section! 🫶🏽
9-1-1 Masterlist
Tumblr media
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
“Okay, so we’re telling Bobby today, right? Before shift?” Buck asks as he places his foot onto the brake pedal of the car, to stop in front of the light that had just switched from green to red.
“Oh my god” she said, which sounded more like a scoff. The back of her left hand bumped into Buck’s chest as he looked over at his girlfriend, with her eyes totally focussed on the screen of her phone. She clearly didn’t hear the question he just asked her.
“Did you know this? It says and I quote..” she said, as her flat hand morphed into a “wait a second” gesture. Only her index finger was now in the air. “Your breasts can grow up to three cup sizes while pregnant. Breast growth in the first trimester is due to higher levels of the hormones estrogen and progesterone.” she quotes the article that she has been reading since the second they had gotten into the car.
A small chuckle left his lips, as he listened to her reading the small part of the article. Since they found out that (Y/n) was pregnant a few days ago, she had been obsessed with reading all these articles. She wanted to know what was going to happen to her, her hormones and of course her body.
One of the “funnier” things is, (Y/n) is a paramedic, and has helped countless times delivering babies in the field. But now that it’s her who’s pregnant, she actually is scared of the finish line. Even though she’s now eight weeks pregnant, and she’s not even there yet. It’s one of the things that keeps running through her mind.
“Why can’t they just remain this size” she sighs as she retrieves her left hand to herself again and keeps on reading the article. “Honey, did you hear what I asked?” Buck asks her. But then again, he doesn’t receive an answer.
“Your feet can grow bigger. Well I knew that already, Sherlock Holmes..” she mumbled as her finger kept on tracing over the screen. “Okay..” Buck sighed as he looked to his right, and placed his hand on (Y/n)’s phone that was in between her hands.
Buck yanks the phone from her hands, “Hey! I was using that.” (Y/n) says as she tries to grab the phone from his hand. But he places the phone in the compartment of the car door.
“You’ve been glued to that article ever since we got in the car.” he says as he let the weight on the brake become less and switches the brake for the gas pedal as the traffic light goes to green again.
“Well, I’m sorry? Is it wrong to know what’s going to happen to my body and my emotions in the next few weeks?” she asks him as she watches him turn the steering wheel to the left, but his eyes remain on the road. “Of course not, and I will give you your phone back. But we need to make a plan.” he calmly tells her as the drive to the firehouse gets shorter and shorter.
“Okay, go ahead.” she says as she looks at the road in front of her. A small chuckle leaves his mouth. As if he didn’t just ask her a few moments ago. “We enter the firehouse, go get changed and then we’ll talk to Bobby.” Buck explains as he made some motions with his right hand, while his left hand was still on the steering wheel.
“Fine with me, can I have my phone back now?” (Y/n) said as she waited for Buck to place her phone back into her hand. He glanced to his right as he saw her hand, and her eyes were burning into his skin. He grabbed her hand as he pushed it down to her lap. “No, we’re not done yet.” he said as he took another turn.
He gets why she was so into reading all of those articles, but from time to time it’d get boring or tiring, right? Buck himself was also reading more and more stories from other people becoming dads. He was so excited to be a dad. Ever since (Y/n) had told him about her being pregnant, he practically couldn’t think about anything else.
“What else do you want to discuss?” she said, maybe a little bit annoyed. But Buck ignores it, he knows it is probably the hormones talking. “Do we only want to tell Bobby? Or are we telling the team too?” he asks then.
A sigh leaves her mouth as she searches her brain for an answer for that question. “Uhmm..” she mumbled as she shook her head, she didn’t exactly know the answer to that one. “See, I really want to tell Eddie.. but, I feel like if we tell him we need to tell the rest of the team too.” Buck explains his opinion on it.
“I don’t know.. I’m only eight weeks now. I’m scared that if I share this news now, I’ll jinx it and things will go wrong.” she said as she ran a hand through her hair and let her head fall back against the headrest of the carseat.
Of course they wanted to tell Eddie, he was her brother and he was the best friend of Buck. Eddie felt more like a brother to Buck and it was the same the other way around. They didn’t have secrets, and it felt illegal to walk around with news like this.
But it wasn’t fair if they told Eddie and left the others out, they were family too, blood related or not. Not that Bobby wasn’t family, he was like a father Buck never had. But they needed to inform him about her health, she couldn’t now just run into burning buildings and carry heavy equipment. Since she already is a paramedic, she doesn’t run into burning buildings and doesn’t carry heavy equipment a lot.
“Hey.. I’m sure that if we do decide to tell them and something does go wrong, they’ll be there for us. Most importantly for you.” He says as he gives her a quick glance and places his hand on her thigh.
“You’re right..” she said as she glanced to her left, looking at Buck who was now driving in the parking lot of the firehouse. ”But I don’t want to tell them today, I want it to be a special moment. You know? Like the way I told you.” she explained, with her eyes still locked onto Buck.
The car pulls to a stop as Buck parks the car in the parking lot. “It’s not just something you pick out at the grocery store.” she said, as Buck took a deep breath in and looked at (Y/n). Their eyes connected once more, as (Y/n) leaned the side of her head against the headrest.
“I know it means a lot to you..” he said with a small smile on his face as he gave her leg a slight squeeze, and continued to rub his thumb over her thigh.
*
Buck turned the key inside the lock, making the front door of their apartment jump open. He steps inside the room while holding the paper straps of the bag full with groceries in his right hand, as he closes the door behind him with his left hand with the keys in the palm of his hand.
He steps closer to the dining table as his eyes fall onto (Y/n), sitting at the table with a glass of water and ice cubes. She was leaning her head onto her right hand, as her elbow was leaning onto the dining table.
“Hey, I thought you were asleep.” Buck says as he places the bag onto the table as well as the car keys. For a small second she closed her eyes and shook her head, “I couldn’t sleep after you left.” she said followed by a small sigh.
She had been feeling nauseous for days, which felt like forever. It was almost like there wasn't an end to all of this. How could she be this sick? “Do you think I can grow abs from the amount of how often I throw up?” she asks him as she lets her hand she was leaning on, rub over her face.
A small chuckle left Buck’s mouth as he heard that question. “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?” he smiled as he looked at her oh so tired face. “You know what? I would.” she said as she looked back at him, making eye contact.
Buck couldn’t help but form a small smile on his face. “Okay, I got some ginger, bananas and some white rice.” he said as soon as he started to unpack the groceries from the paper bag he was just holding a few seconds ago. “If google is right, this might help against nausea.” he explained then, as soon as he received a confused look from (Y/n).
She didn’t ask for those groceries, but after his short explanation she got it. He had done some research. It was cute, he was trying to take care of her. Even though she was a paramedic, she knew what kind of medicine worked against nausea, but she couldn’t just steal a bag of saline and an IV kit.
But then Buck’s eyes fall on the small box, placed next to her glass of water on the dining table. “What’s that?” he asked curiously. She followed his eyes, and pushed the small box towards him as he stepped closer.
“A little surprise for you.” She said as her hands became warmer with the second and the butterflies in her stomach started to duplicate themselves with every heartbeat in her body. Buck grabs the small box from the dining table, but before he opens the box he gets that thinking look on his face.
“What did I forget?” he asked himself. “Wait.. it isn’t my birthday.. did I forget our anniversary?” he continued as he talked to himself for a second. Another small smile morphed onto (Y/n)’s face as she watched him freak out. He was so scared he missed another special day. “No.. that’s not until two months.” She laughed nervously.
Typically Buck, he could forget so many things sometimes. It’s like talking to dory, with short-term memory.
“Then.. what is this for?” he asked hesitatingly as he held the box in his hands. It was starting to feel like some kind of prank she was pulling or he was making it an interrogation. “Just.. something, what made me think of you..” she stumbled on the first words. What was she supposed to say?
“Just open it, Buck.” she continued as he started to shake the box in his hand. Making her even more nervous now. He grabbed the lid of the small box and carefully took it off. His eyes scanned the small box that was in his hand. His eyebrows furrowed at the look of it.
Until he realized what was in it.
“No.. you’re kidding” he said as soon as he saw that it was a pregnancy test.
She didn't say a word as soon as he grabbed the test from the box and looked down at the small screen that had visualized the weeks on it. “You’re kidding right?” he asked her in disbelief with a little nervous laugh.
She pressed her lips into a thin line as she tried to fight the tears, which were fighting their way through the barrier. “I’m not kidding Buck” she says, as a bright smile was taking over her entire face. She stood up from her chair and walked towards Buck. He was still starstruck, looking at the test in the box.
(Y/n) pressed her body to his side, as she smiled up to him. “You’re pregnant” he smiled down at her. She couldn’t seem to wipe the huge ass smile off her face. Buck placed his free hand onto her cheek as he let his thumb trace over her cheek.
“I just had this feeling..” she said, but before she could finish her sentence, his warm lips were pressed against hers. She could feel the butterflies inside of her body get more restless as she felt his lips. Her hand was pressed against his chest as she tried to steady herself by the amount of excitement he put into that kiss.
Their lips part, as he placed his forehead against hers. “I love you..” she sighed as she closed her eyes for a second and just be in the moment.
Buck pulled back his head as he took another look at the test. “When did you..?” he asked then, as he switched between the test and back at (Y/n). “I took the test yesterday.” she answered his question. But exactly when he realized she said “yesterday” the look on his face morphed into a confused one.
“You took this while we were on shift?” He continued his interrogation. She chuckled at his look and the confusion in his face. “Where else? We were on a twenty four hour shift.” she laughed.
*
Buck couldn’t help but keep on smiling since the second they entered the firehouse. Buck closed his locker as he placed his boot on one of the small red benches in the locker room, tying his shoelaces. (Y/n) put on her shirt and closed the buttons of her shirt as she looked in the small mirror she had put in her locker.
Her cheeks were rosy, and there was a small spot of acne on her forehead breaking through her skin. A small sigh left her mouth as she rubbed her hand over her cheek, as if she was trying to see if it was real or not, to check if it might go away if she put some pressure on it.
But without any success. Hormones were changing her body, she had to accept that. But she hoped no one would get the wrong impression if they saw those rosy cheeks.
“You alright?” Buck asked, with a small feeling of worry in his body. She quickly glanced at him and gave him a small nod as she closed the locker. “Just a bit nervous.. or maybe excited. I don’t know..” she stumbled. She bent over to grab all of her long hair and started to make a ponytail.
“It’s going to be fine.” Buck said as she straightened her back again. (Y/n) pulls her shirt correctly again as she looks at Buck again. “I know” she whispered as Buck came closer again and grabbed her fingers.
He didn’t even need to ask her if she was ready, he just motioned with his head to the left “Come on” he said softly as he turned around and kept her fingers on the inside of his palm. But he slowly loosened his grip on her hand, and before they reached the locker room door, he had let go of her fingers.
Buck and (Y/n) were never the couple to be that close on shift, of course they’d steal a small kiss from each other when no one was looking, even if it was on scene between or behind the trucks, or when they were in the hall behind the locker room. Everyone knew that the two of them were in a relationship, and they were okay with it.
As long as they kept work and personal life separate.
(Y/n) followed Buck up the stairs to the loft, to find Bobby in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Buck waited for his girlfriend to step on the loft so they could talk to Bobby together.
“Morning cap” Buck said as he quickly wiped his sweaty hands onto his trousers. “Hey, good morning Buck, (Y/n).” he answered. When he reached the right amount of coffee in his cup he placed the coffee pot back where it belonged. “What can I do for you?” Bobby then asked, as he grabbed the cup of coffee and leaned with his free hand onto the kitchen counter.
“We were wondering if we could talk to you.” (Y/n) said, making Bobby frown at the question. Isn’t that what they were doing right now? Talking to Bobby? (Y/n) could feel the jitters inside her stomach, she was nervous to tell the news that she forgot the rest of her sentence.
“In private” Buck then quickly added, when he switched looks between (Y/n) and then back to Bobby. The captain’s eyebrows were still frowned, he knew they were hiding something.
In the meantime, Eddie was standing downstairs, cleaning the rig with the bright yellow rag in his hands. But as soon as he watched his sister and his best friend walking up to Bobby, he stopped cleaning and walked a little closer to get a better look of them.
Eddie rubbed some small spots on his hands off with the rag he used to clean the rig with, as he kept Buck, (Y/n) and Bobby in his vision. “Hm, what do you think that’s about?” a female voice asked behind Eddie.
He quickly glanced to his right as Hen took place to his right and not shortly after, Chimney followed, standing next to his left side. Eddie looked down to the rag he was using to clean his hands with, and placed it over his shoulder. He shook his head as he folded his arms over each other. “I don’t know.” he just said.
“You haven’t talked to your sister yet?” Hen continued to ask. Looking at Eddie, trying to get a reaction out of him. But the only thing Eddie did was shake his head. “I mean..” he stumbled as he looked to the loft. “I noticed something about her that is different. But I just can’t seem to put my finger on it.” he explained to the two paramedics next to him then.
“Maybe.. she can’t work with Buck and you and is asking for a transfer?” Chimney said with his eyes locked on the three. Eddie’s eyebrows frowned as he glanced at Chimney. “No.. It can’t be.. right?” Eddie stumbled as he looked at Hen.
Hen’s hands went up, saying that she didn’t want to be a part of this guessing competition. “Don’t look at me, I have no clue.” Hen said then.
Normally Eddie could trust his gut, but at this moment he had no clue if this was bad or good. If something was wrong, he’d be sure his sister or best friend would come to him. But people do keep secrets. “Whatever it is.. it has to be something serious.” Eddie concluded.
”If only one of them went to Bobby it would be normal, but the two of them going to cap? That sounds like a problem to me.” Chimney said, followed by a small “ouch”. Eddie guessed Hen gave him a tick.
Just when Bobby, Buck and (Y/n) wanted to move towards the stairs to go to Bobby’s office, their conversation got cut off by the sound of the bell.
“Looks like our conversation will have to wait” Bobby said and gave Buck a pat on his shoulder as he put down his cup of coffee and ran past the couple.
(Y/n) looked at Buck for a slight second, she was afraid this was going to happen. “Let’s go, Let’s go!” Bobby’s voice sounded over the loft, which made the couple run towards the stairs.
-
A loud cry left Jo’s lips as soon as she moved out of the van and got scooped up by Buck. As soon as Jo was away from the car, (Y/n) and Chimney entered the van through the front window. Pieces of glass were cracking underneath her boots when she stepped through the window and made her way to the back of the van.
Both Chimney and (Y/n) crouched beside the unconscious woman, “Mallory can you hear me?” (Y/n) asked as Chimney placed his fingers against her neck to feel if he could find a pulse, but at the action of him placing his hand on her chest to feel something. “Breathing is weak” Chimney concluded as he opened his medic bag.
“Cap, we’re going to need an air ambulance. Patient is unresponsive, breathing is weak and she lost bladder control. Could be a spinal.” (Y/n) said through the radio. Before she knew it, her brother was standing at the front of the car with a backboard, calling both the paramedics their names.
“Chim, (Y/n), here’s the backboard, the airbus is en route.” her brother said as he handed the backboard over to (Y/n) and Chimney. “Copy that” (Y/n) said, as they placed the backboard behind the two of them.
“I’m trying the sternal rub” Chimney said as he placed his fist onto her chest and started rubbing over her sternum. “Come on Mallory, wake up! Can you hear me?” Chimney said to the victim as her eyes fluttered open. “There you go”
“J-jo, W-w-where is Jo?” the woman asked, as she looked around the space she was in. She was scared. “Your daughter is going to be fine, how are you feeling?” Chimney asked then. “I-I don’t know.” she stumbled.
Chimney moved his position so he could get the c-collar around the woman’s neck easily, as (Y/n) did some tests. “Can you move your arms?” (Y/n) asked Mallory, the woman did what (Y/n) asked and moved her right arm to her face. “That’s good!” she said, as in the meanwhile she untied the woman’s shoe, and carefully slid it off her foot.
“Now, can you wiggle your toes for me?” (Y/n) continued as she had her left hand placed on her heel and the right hand at her toes. She waited a second, but didn’t feel any movement. (Y/n) made eye contact with Chimney as she lightly shook her head.
“Movement in your upper extremities, that’s a great sign.” (Y/n) said as she stood up a little and moved forward. Mallory’s neck was now surrounded with the c-collar, “This is bad isn’t it?” she asked, as she kept looking to the ceiling, or now, since the car was flipped, the other side of the car.
(Y/n) looked at Chimney, she had to be positive. There was hope for her. “Spinal misalignment happens in crashes like this, and the effects are often temporary, okay?” (Y/n) answered her question, as she placed her hand onto Mallory’s for a second and squeezed it softly. “Just got to stay positive, okay?” she said as she saw the terrified woman squeezing her eyes shut for a slight second. “Okay” she sobbed.
“Okay” (Y/n) said as she looked once again at Chimney, and nodded. They were ready to move the woman. (Y/n)’s hands were grabbing the woman’s legs carefully, as Chimney grabbed her upper body. “One, two, three” she counted down, and on the count of three they moved her onto the backboard.
The sound of a helicopter took over the voices of the firefighters on scene. “Hey, looks like we’re getting you an upgrade, too. We got you into first class.” Chimney said with a small smile, and nodded at (Y/n) as a sign that he was ready to lift the backboard.
“One, two, three” Chimney now counted down and they lifted the backboard. (Y/n) knew she’d get a reaction from Buck if he saw her lifting the backboard. But since they didn’t tell anything to anyone, she couldn’t just ask someone else to do it for her. It’d be too obvious.
Slowly (Y/n) backed up, walking backwards towards the front window, just how they entered the van a few minutes ago. And she was right, the second she stepped through the windshield, back first, she could feel eyes burning in her back.
“Shall I take over?” Buck’s voice sounded. She looked over her shoulder, and saw her boyfriend standing there, ready to step in. But she just focussed right back at Chimney, stepping through the windshield too. “No, I got it.” she said as she sent him a small smile.
But she clearly knew that Buck wasn’t happy with it, but she ignored it. She was just doing her job. It wasn’t like she was heavily pregnant at the moment, but she could tell Buck was trying to take care of her, and protect her.
Meanwhile Eddie arrived with a gurney at the black van where Chimney and (Y/n) pulled Mallory from, and the two placed Mallory on the gurney. Eddie, Chimney and (Y/n) helped get Mallory to the air ambulance that had just landed, but the second she walked back towards the ambulance to assist Hen with the other, much younger victim, Buck fastened his footsteps to catch up with his girl.
“Why would you do that?” Buck asked, trying to keep the volume of his voice low enough so only she was the one who could hear what he said. The question that left his mouth made her stop in her tracks, “Seriously? You want to talk about this now?” she asked.
Buck stopped walking and stood across from (Y/n). “You could’ve just called me over on the radio.” he continued. Which made (Y/n) shake her head. “Buck if I did that, I could’ve just come clean right away.” she tried to explain to him.
“(Y/n)! Let’s go!” Hen’s voice sounded over the scene. When (Y/n) glanced quickly at Hen, she could see the paramedic standing next to an open driver’s side car door.
He had to understand that once she called him over, she’d practically blown her entire cover. “I’m not doing this right now Buck” she added in a whisper, and stepped away from him so she could continue doing her job.
But before she could pass Buck, a firm hand took a hold on her wrist. “Look, I’m not mad.” he started, Buck’s eyes turned into those puppy eyes. “I just think you should be aware of the fact that you can’t do everything. Because of..” hé stopped talking, as he motioned with his head down to her stomach.
“We’ll talk later. I have to go.” she said, she didn’t have time to discuss this right now. Even though she had the feeling she needed to explain herself even more, she couldn’t. They had to bring the victim to the hospital.
Buck’s grip on her wrist loosened and before he could think of other things he had to say, she walked away from him.
(Y/n) rushed towards the ambulance Hen was sitting in, waiting on (Y/n), and stepped in the back of the ambulance. When she looked up, she noticed the victim on the gurney and to her surprise, her brother was in there as well.
Eddie was sitting in one of the seats, while he was opening a plastic bag with an IV tube, as his eyes fluttered up, looking at his sister who had just entered the ambulance. “You’re placing an IV?” (Y/n) asked, on which Eddie hummed some kind of “yes”.
“Morphine?” She continued her round of questions, “Sí” he answered, this time in actual words. “Okay” (Y/n) whispered to herself as she opened one of the small cabinets on the wall of the ambulance.
Eddie grabbed the tube from the plastic bag as he moved his eyes up at his sister. He could see something was bothering her, as if she was holding something back. Eddie had noticed the slight bit of annoyance he saw when Buck was talking to her.
Chimney couldn’t be right? Would she ask for a transfer because she can’t work with Buck? Or even worse, her own brother?
“You good?” He tried to break the silence he experienced, as (Y/n) found the bag of morphine and grabbed it out of the cabinet. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she held the morphine in her hand.
A loud sigh left her mouth as she closed her eyes for a small moment, “Yeah, I’m fine.” she answered, as she closed the cabinet she grabbed the morphine bag from.
She turns around as she tries to hang up the bag of morphine, “Come on (Y/n), I can see something is bothering you.” Eddie spoke up.
The doors of the ambulance were being closed, while Eddie waited for an answer, but nothing came out of his sister’s mouth.
It wasn’t until a loud bang came from outside, which made her speak up. She stopped immediately with her actions as she looked around her, the entire ambulance they were in was shaking. It was like the ground was suddenly falling from underneath her feet. “What was-” she said, as her sentence got interrupted by the entire ambulance tilting.
Within a second her back was met by the metal backdoors of the ambulance, sending a wave of pain through her spine. A loud cry left her mouth. But it wasn’t until the windows in the back doors shattered, when she realized the ambulance had hit something else.
Dust entered the back of the ambulance as glass shattered all over (Y/n), who was protecting her head with her two arms. But because of the ambulance crashing into something else, the gurney somehow got off the brakes, launching the gurney with the victim onto (Y/n).
Another cry left her mouth, only this one went through bone and marrow. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach, it felt like she was being stabbed. It hurt like hell, the pain was almost unbearable, she pressed her eyes closed as she slipped one of her hands down to her stomach, only to find a metal beam from the gurney being pierced through her lower stomach.
Lower stomach. Fuck. It was bad enough she fell against those metal doors, and was pierced by a beam. But her lower stomach made it kind of a different story. What if the baby..? She needed someone to tell her something positive. Something like: you’re going to be okay, the two of you are going to be okay.
But the man who knew all about her, and their secret, wasn't here. But then she heard his voice over the radio. “one eighteen, report in. I need a headcount.” Buck’s voice sounded through the radio, gasping, sounding out of breath.
When he said those words, he could feel the adrenaline inside of his body become more and more. “I’m grabbing the ropes.” Ravi’s voice sounded back over the radio. Hen was right in his line of sight. Okay so far so good, two down, four to go.
“I’m in the van, pretty sure I broke a couple ribs.” Chimney groaned. Three. “But this van.. is about to be pancaked” Chimney added, as a sound of creaking metal sounded on the back of his audio.
The sound of one of his team being in pain made his heart ache. “Okay Chim, uh we’re coming to you.” Buck answered Chimney. But there was one person he’d really like to hear from right now.
“(Y/n), what’s your status?” he asked as he pressed the speak button in his radio.
“(Y/n), come in.” her boyfriend’s voice sounded again, getting more and more impatient as he spoke and waited. (Y/n) scanned the back of the ambulance as she wanted to answer Buck, but then she realized her brother was unconscious in the seat he was in earlier. Only the seatbelt of the seat was holding his unconscious body in place.
“(Y/n)?” Her name sounded more like a cry, her eyes grew wide at her brother being unconscious, with a wound on his forehead. (Y/n) searched for her radio, “(Y/n) here.” she groaned at the pain that was becoming worse within the second.
“Are you guys okay?” Buck quickly asked, “Eddie is unconscious, I’m pretty sure he hit his head on the gurney.” she said, slow, weakly with some groans in between her words. “I’m fine.. Just hit my back pretty hard.” she added ending her sentence with a groan she tried to suppress.
How much she wanted to tell Buck about the pain she felt in her stomach because of the gurney, she figured it would be best if she did not. If she did tell him, she wouldn’t know if he was going to be able to do his job.
He couldn’t make any mistakes, not when this call just became a rescue call.
Buck was relieved to hear her voice, he felt his lungs releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. With his knees pressed against the shattered windshield of the ambulance, Buck grabbed his radio once again. “Captain Nash, still haven’t heard from you.” he called through the radio.
He waited one second, that became two seconds, became three seconds, four seconds, five seconds. But he couldn’t hear anything but static sounds.
“Bobby, come in.” (Y/n) could hear the fear in Buck’s voice, as she waited for some kind of response. She knew how much Bobby meant to him, he was like the father he never had. Not that Buck has lost his father, but he was basically never there for him when he needed him.
The sounds of the metal of the ambulance creaking and slightly moving, didn’t exactly calm (Y/n) down. Someone was shifting the weight of the ambulance, but the second there was more movement she could hear Buck’s voice calling her name. “(Y/n)? (Y/n)? Are you back there?” he called out.
She whimpered at the pressure that was still leaning onto her abdomen as she tried to look for the right words. “I’m alive but.. it hurts” she stumbled as she clamped her hand around the metal pipe even more.
(Y/n) could hear dull sounds of Buck talking with Hen in the front seat, but the only thing she could do was stare at her unconscious brother in the seat. “Eddie” she groaned at her brother as she tried to call out louder to him, but she couldn’t.
She needed the extra weight that was being put on the gurney, to be gone. “Jo, are you with me?” (Y/n) asked as she let out a choking breath, trying to keep herself calm and breathe the pain away. “Yeah” Jo answered her question in a cry.
“I’m gonna need you to unbuckle yourself, and try to get some weight off of me, okay?” (Y/n) whimpered as she tried to fight her way through the sentence. “Sorry. Okay." she said as soon as Jo tried to get a look of what was happening down there.
The victim unbuckled herself, as she tried to shift onto the small bench that was on the side of the ambulance. The girl rolled herself onto the bench a little too hard, making the entire ambulance move even more. But how could she blame her? Her leg was broken.
Only the weight of the gurney was now pinning into the wound. “Jo? I need you to look inside that bag.” (Y/n) asked Jo, but the second she asked the question, she immediately started to search for the bag to help (Y/n). ”There’s a small pocket with white small packages.” (Y/n) added.
“These?” Jo asked as she held the small packages up for (Y/n) to tell her she was wrong or right. “Yes, that’s it.” (Y/n) answered her question. “I need you to crack the package, stretch out as far as you can and place it under his nose.” (Y/n) asked Jo, who nodded and did what she asked.
(Y/n) needed her brother to be conscious again, she couldn’t stand it anymore to look at him like he was some kind of halloween decoration. His body was caught by the seat belt, trying to keep him from falling down. “You’re almost there!” (Y/n) tried to motivate Jo as she reached her arm out as far as she could to place the smelling salts underneath Eddie’s nose.
A loud groan filled the back of the ambulance, Eddie opened his eyes and tried to get his spinning head back on track. “Eddie?” his sister’s voice ringed through his ear drums. His head was trying to beat out of his skin.
“What happened?” Eddie mumbled as he waited for his eyes to focus on his sister. “Bridge collapsed” she simply said, trying to save her breath. “What happened to you?” the question left his lips as his eyes finally focussed on the other side of the ambulance. His sister was with her back against the metal back doors of the ambulance, as Eddie tried to find some kind of grip on the cabinets. It almost looked like Eddie was in a funfair ride by the way he was locked into his seat.
“I got attacked by the gurney” she groaned as she tried to find some place comfortable, but it was impossible when the beam was practically trying to pierce her entire body. “But it hurts..” she hissed at the burning feeling in the lower part of her stomach, as she moved her hands over the metal beam. She couldn’t hold this thing any longer inside of her body. She knew it was the wrong choice to just pull out anything from a wound, but this was unbearable.
“What are you doing?” Eddie asked as he in the meanwhile scanned the entire scene they were in, trying to find some way to get to safely, so he wouldn’t be dangling on the other side of his sister and try to assist her where he could.
There was silence. The strongest hand of (Y/n) was wrapped around the bright yellow beam that was sticking from the gurney into her lower abdomen. As her other hand was pressing against the gurney to push it away from her.
For a second she closed her eyes, focussed on her breathing, trying to calm herself down even more. In through the nose, four seconds. And out through the mouth, four seconds.
And just as she had reached those four seconds of breathing out, she started pulling the beam from the gurney. She cried out in agony as she pulled the beam and pushed the gurney off her body.
She could hear her brother yelling at her through her cries. “No! (Y/n)! Stop!” he called out, trying to get her to stop her actions. Another scream left her lips. Her hand that was around the beam was being filled with blood that was gushing from the wound in her abdomen. The second the beam was disconnected from her body, she looked down and saw another stream of blood squirting out of the wound.
Oh that was not good. Definitely not good.
The scream went through the back of the ambulance, and was audible from the outside. From the outside it almost sounded like a murder that was going on, or some woman giving birth. It suddenly let Buck’s blood run cold. What the hell was happening on the inside of that ambulance?
“What the hell was that?” Buck spoke through his radio as he was rippling down from the top of the scene, down to the ambulance to get Hen her harness. But mid his way down, he stopped as the scream went through his entire body. But the noise on the radio frequency didn’t exactly calm him down. “(Y/n)? Talk to me!” he added through his radio.
Suddenly loud cries of his girl were audible on the back of the radio, she was pressing the button to talk. But the pain took over for a second. “(Y/n)?” he just gasped through the radio.
“I’m here.. I’m okay..” she gasped, trying to give Buck some sign of life. “I’m coming to get you!” He answered in the heat of the moment, he needed his girl to be out of this mess, only that way he could function normally. “No you are not!” she said as she ended those words with a groan. “Buck, you need to get Chimney out first, and you know it.” Buck knew he had to get Chimney first, he was at the bottom of this all and the ambulance was leaning onto the van he was in.
But it stung him. He wanted to save everyone. But especially (Y/n). He couldn’t lose her. He just wanted her to be safe. “Trust me Buck.” she said softly. His heart was telling him not to, but he had to listen to his head. Chimney needed to be pulled out first. He needed Hen to help Jo, and Eddie could help his sister. That way they’d put less weight on the structure than needed. “I trust you” he sounded like a little boy through the radio.
He had to keep on going. Buck was holding two harnesses. One for Hen, and the other one she’d have to pass on to Eddie.
(Y/n) put her left foot onto the end of the gurney as she pushed it away from her. (Y/n) gasped at the feeling of the weight being off of her, as she placed the blue gloved hand onto her skin and pressed as hard as she could. “Fuck!” she cried out as tears were welling in her eyes because of the pain she was experiencing.
She pressed her head against the steel wall behind her, trying to catch her breath. “Can you pass me the trauma dressing?” she asked as she held out her hand, but the question was more like a whisper. “Why the hell would you do that!” Eddie yelled at her.
“We’re in a tilted ambulance Eddie, the gravity is literally almost pushing the gurney through me. Do you want to see the beam through my entire back?” She said slowly but snappy, her eyes were full of tears and desperation. “Now grab me those damn’ trauma dressing so I can put pressure on this wound.” she continued as she tried to breathe the pain away.
Eddie looked her strongly in the eyes, but then after two seconds, he nodded. Eddie said a prayer, and tied a part of the seatbelt that was crossing his chest around his arm. Trying to make some kind of rope to reach the bench.
All he didn’t need to do was try and give the seatbelt some slack, that way it’d get off the block and he’d tumble down. He stretched his legs out to the side, trying to aim for the other bench on the opposite side of the bench where Jo was lying. He clicked his seat belt loose, as he slowly let himself down, trying to use all his power like he was doing pull ups.
Eddie’s vision was blurry, it almost felt like he was drunk and walking. The small metal sounds of the ambulance creaking didn’t gave all of them a safe feeling, but they were trying the best they could.
It was like looking at Indiana Jones. Eddie lowered himself slowly down, trying not to land too harshly, otherwise the ambulance would shift again. Eddie was now standing just a few feet above (Y/n), he couldn’t exactly reach her, not yet. If they’d reach out to each other now, they’d miss like a few inches.
Eddie rumbles through some drawers, as he grabs the cusy plastic dressing. Trauma dressing. He fishes out the dressing and crouches slowly down as he hands it to his sister. “Here” Eddie says as he passes the package. The second his sister accepted the package and started opening it and bandaging herself, he straightened his legs again as he continued to search for some morphine.
Sobs were sounding from the otherside of the ambulance, “Jo was it? Right?” Eddie asked, as he looked over to the girl that was terrified. “Yeah?” she cried softly as she sniffled. “We’re gonna get you home, okay?” Eddie tried to reassure her, he wasn’t sure it was getting through to her, but he had to tell her. “Okay” she cried, trying to believe the words Eddie told her.
“Tell us about your trip, hm?” Eddie asked her, trying to give her a chance to see some positive things in this mess. “We um.. we just went to Yosemite.” Jo told Eddie and (Y/n) while Eddie was going through another compartment and fished out a needle and a small bottle of morphine.
“Yosemite.. it’s pretty there, right?” Eddie asked Jo as he crouched down once more. “Yeah, really beautiful..” Jo answered. “I’m going to take my son there when we get out of here.” Eddie said, as he now called his sister’s name. “Here, to take some of the pain away.” he added.
She catched the small bottle and needle, and that’s when the side door of the ambulance opened and Hen popped into sight. Hen was in the opening of the door, hanging. Gasping if she had just ran an entire marathon or had climbed Mount Everest.
(Y/n) could see Hen scanning the entire back of the ambulance, as her eye fell onto (Y/n) at the bottom of the ambulance, pressing the trauma dressing onto her skin. Shocked, she looked at the status of (Y/n). “Don’t say anything, just take Jo.” she said, trying to use her normal voice, but all she could do was a loud whisper. But it was enough for Hen to hear her.
Hen slowly nodded her head as she switched towards Eddie, holding some sort of backpack. “I brought you a harness” Hen told Eddie as she tried to pass it over to him. It took her some effort, but she gave the bag a subtle push and the bag landed in Eddie’s hands. There was a rope attached to the bag, so Eddie could safely get out with his harness.
Hen quickly let go of the sight of (Y/n). Blood was all over the floor, on the white trauma dressing and her gloves. It looked like a blood bath. “I’m taking Jo with me.” Hen said as she got out the right equipment to get the girl out. She instructed the girl, and not a few seconds later she was outside.
In the meanwhile (Y/n) opened the plastic package around the sterile needle, and pushed it through the top of the glass bottle labeled with “morphine”. Dots were dancing across her eyes as she tried to focus on the amount in the needle. Once it was filled with just enough for a woman her size, she stuck the needle into her arm and pushed the fluids through her veins.
“Fuck” she gasped as she pulled the needle from her skin and threw it to the otherside of the room so it wouldn’t get to her anymore. Eddie was getting ready to get himself and his sister the hell out of this hell hole. He placed his helmet on his head and clicked it so it was secured.
(Y/n) put as much pressure as she could on the trauma dressing, trying to stop the bleeding. But she could see it was trying to get through the white dressing. Her eyes were squeezed closed, the wound in her lower abdomen stung and the blood loss was causing her to see dots and feel lightheaded. But she could blink most of it away. “(Y/n), what’s your twenty?” Buck’s voice came through the radio as he had gotten Chimney safely to the ground.
Eddie could see his sister was still focussed on the number one thing, keeping the pressure on the wound. She was having trouble, he could tell. He doubted if he had to answer Buck, he didn’t want to make him any more worried than he already was. Eddie placed his hand onto the radio as he held the button. “She’s putting pressure on her wound, we’ll be out in a few” he answered Buck’s question.
“Wound? What wound?” Buck asked Eddie now, making Eddie stare at his sister like he just got caught stealing something. Eddie had said too much. “Eddie. What wound?” Buck’s voice sounded more in an almost threatening way now. He wasn’t asking. Buck needed to know what was happening in the back of that ambulance.
(Y/n)’s eyes shot at Eddie, realizing what he’d done. Their eyes were locked, (Y/n) gave her brother a warning look as she saw his hand wandering back to his radio, ready to answer. “Piece of the gurney stabbed her in her lower abdomen.” Eddie had to do this, otherwise Buck would’ve gone back up the collapsed bridge, and see it for himself. The warning look she had on her face just turned into a thunderstorm. Why did he have to say that?
Panic was rushing through Buck’s veins as he watched the scene, where Hen was rippling down with Jo. A million questions were running through his mind, with the speed of a hundred miles an hour.
Why didn’t she tell him she was hurt? Was she okay? How bad was the wound? And.. the baby. Was the baby okay?
Buck’s hand was pressed on the radio, “(Y/n) come in” he sounded through the radio as his eyes were stuck on the ambulance. But he couldn’t hear anything other than the noise of the frequency.
He waited a few moments to give her time to answer, but he felt his patience was running out. Not even a second of two had passed, and he was already repeating her name. “(Y/n)” her name fell off his lips, as some kind of cry for help.
He held the radio in his hand as he pressed his eyes closed and let his head hang down, looking at his feet. “Buck.. I’m okay” Her voice rang through his ears, it was like a little shy girl was talking to him. But he could hear in her voice that she was holding back a cry.
“Are you both okay?” Buck asked, as he opened his eyes. He needed her to be okay, he needed the one thing they both created to be okay. But with the vague description of whatever wound she had, he couldn’t figure out if they were. “.. is the baby okay?” rattled after that, trying to make the question more clear.
But as soon as those words left his mouth, he forgot something. He forgot everyone around him, was listening to the conversation they were having.
(Y/n) froze in her position, like she thought maybe if she stood still entirely, the time would too. Pretend like he didn’t just say that through the radio. But she could feel her brother’s eyes burning into her skin. Eddie’s eyes grew wide at the words he had just heard.
Busted.
But instead of looking back at Eddie, she chose to grab her radio again. She swallowed as she felt every feeling she could possibly have rushing through her body. “I don’t know Buck.” She answered his question.
Making Eddie realize.
“You are pregnant?” Eddie stumbled with a shocked tone. (Y/n) bit on the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress the stinging feeling on her lower abdomen.
Eddie keeps on shooting questions at her: why didn’t you say anything? How far along are you? Were you even planning on telling me? The team?
“Eddie, for fuck sake stop interigating me” she shot back at him. Her head was hurting, to be honest everything was hurting. From her back, to her stomach, from her head to her toes and everything in between.
“I just don’t get it. Don’t you trust me? The team? If you would’ve told Bobby, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess now.” Eddie told her, sounding like a dad telling his kids off.
“You and I both know I would’ve ended up exactly the same. Cap would’ve put me on light duties, making me help Hen. But that’s not the point- I was afraid if I told you that I was going to jinx it okay!” she confessed, looking at
The ambulance was creaking once again. Making the two of them be extra careful. “But Eddie, please.. we need to go. The longer we waste, the more blood I lose.”
“You’re right.” Eddie said as he continued to connect the rope to his harness. As in the meanwhile (Y/n) pushed herself carefully up, and got to her feet as slowly and steady as she could.
“Eddie..” the way she said her brother's name made Eddie’s stomach turn. The sound of the metal of the ambulance was becoming louder, he could see her looking around in fear, the terror in her eyes.
Eddie was moving to reach out his hand to his sister, “Ready. Let’s get you-“ he couldn’t even end his sentence as his sister just disappeared in front of his eyes with a blink of an eye.
A horrifying scream left her lips as the gurney yanked itself through the ambulance doors and made the floor beneath her feet disappear.
(Y/n) could practically feel her fingers brushing Eddie’s skin as she reached out at the last second to save herself. But she could feel herself falling. She didn’t know how, or what she did, but out of reflex she could manage to grab a small bar that was attached to the bumper of the ambulance.
The mix of an horrifying cry, Buck’s best friend yelling for his sister and the crash of the van beneath the ambulance down onto the ground made Buck’s stomach turn and set off his alarm Bells inside of him.
The scream he heard went through marrow and bone again like before, Buck thought that scream from before was the worst one he had heard from her, but he was wrong. It was this one that topped every scream. But the sight of his girl struggling to keep a hold of the bar. “Oh my god” Hen gasped as she looked at the scene.
Whatever happened after that, Buck wouldn’t know, he was already running over the scene pulling himself on top of a fallen truck at the bottom of the collapsed bridge.
“Hang on (Y/n)! Hang on baby!” Buck screamed all over the scene, probably loud enough for all the construction workers way back to hear clear as daylight.
Buck didn’t even bother to reattach his harness to one of the spare ropes he used earlier. He wrapped his gloved hand around the rope, and pulled himself closer and closer to be within reach of the ambulance.
She was holding on for dear life, she could feel the skin around her wound starting to stretch. The dots were dancing in her eyes as she tried to use all of her power to keep herself from falling more.
Eddie was trying to get to her, he reached his hand out to her, which she tried to grab, but the gravity was pulling her arm back down.
(Y/n) felt an arm being wrapped around her torso, “I got you! I got you!” Buck said, trying to catch his breath because of the amount of adrenaline he felt inside. “I got her!” Buck called out to the rest of his team as he looked up, to find Eddie.
“Hey, I need you to hold on to this rope okay?” Buck said as he tried to get (Y/n)’s attention. (Y/n) hummed in agreement, as she tried to suppress the pain she felt. She grabbed the rope Buck’s hand was wrapped around and slowly switched from the cold metal of the ambulance to the black rope that was still attached to the upper side of the collapsed scene.
She huffed and groaned at the pain as Buck told her what to do, what they were going to do and how. But they needed to do it quickly and steadily. Sometimes the power in Buck’s arms and (Y/n)’s would run out. “You’re doing so good baby” he gasped into her ear, as they slowly rippled down to the ground with Eddie on their heels.
Buck’s arms were underneath her armpits, as he practically assisted her with moving. The second their feet finally hit the ground, they both let out a relieved sigh. Meanwhile more RA units were arriving on scene.
“Are you good?” Buck asked as soon as they made their way from the pile of rubble onto solid ground. (Y/n) was gasping as she leaned against the rubble, pressing her hand down onto the wound again like she had been doing for minutes. She nodded, “Come on, let’s get you checked out.” Buck said, as he placed her free arm around his shoulder so she could lean her weight onto him.
But she hissed and limped a bit just as soon as she made one step. A soft cry left her lips as she faced the sky, trying to get through the pain. “Just.. a second” she whispered as she pressed her eyes closed again. A worried expression took over Buck’s face, but without a warning, Buck scooped (Y/n) up with his right arm at the back of her knees and his left arm on her lower back. He couldn’t let her be in pain this much longer. “What are you-” she gasped as her feet were swept off the floor.
“Over here! Come on!” Buck called out at the paramedics from the just arrived RA unit who were moving their gurney over the asphalt. As soon as the gurney was in front of Buck, he placed his girl on it. “I think you might need another gurney” (Y/n) said as soon as her eyes fell onto Hen.
Hen gave her a look, basically saying: are you serious right now? That’s what you’re thinking about now? and shook her head. But right after the comment she made, she groaned at the pain as they rolled the gurney towards the ambulance it belonged to.
“This is sergeant Athena Grant.” the oh so familiar voice sounded over the radio. “Wait, wait, wait!” (Y/n) said as she placed her hand onto Buck’s upper arm and gave it a soft squeeze, telling him to stop. “To anyone on scene, I have captain Bobby Nash of the one eighteen, and a civilian. We’re trapped in a container at the bottom of the collapse. He’s pinned, we’re in need of an assist with extraction.” She continued her explanation.
The second Athena mentioned Bobby, (Y/n) pushed herself up from the gurney. But immediately her back got pushed into the gurney again. She didn’t care that she was hurt, or in pain, everybody on their team was injured. And their captain was trapped.
She wanted to help.
“No (Y/n). You’re going to the hospital” Buck strictly told her, as he looked at his team. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, “Buck-” she sighed. But he directly cut her off. “No, you can’t convince me otherwise. You’re going.” Buck stopped her from changing his opinion.
Buck loved (Y/n). But like mentioned earlier, he was like a dad for Buck. He didn’t have the heart for it to leave the scene without searching for Bobby, to try and help to get him out. He had to make a choice. But choosing between his girl and his father figure, sounded impossible.
Buck turned on his heels, but when he did, he was met by one of his team members. Eddie. “Buck.. go be with her.” Eddie said, pointing at his sister. But Buck shook his head as he tried to scan the scene behind Eddie for a collapsed container. “I can’t- I need to find Bobby.” Buck said determined, as he tried to move around Eddie.
Eddie held his hand out to Buck, as some kind of bouncer, he wouldn’t let Buck into this club, in this case, on the scene. “You can, and you will. Go with her” Eddie said as his hand bumped into Buck’s chest. “But Ed-” Buck stumbled.
“We will find Bobby, we got this.”Eddie gave Buck a small, soft push. “But I need you, to look after my sister. She needs you, and now even more than ever.” he added. Buck sighed, he knew Eddie was right. He glanced over his shoulder as he watched (Y/n) being pushed towards the ambulance.
But still, he hesitated. For just a second.
“Okay” Buck sighed, earning a nod from Eddie, practically saying a non-verbal thank you. Eddie turned on his heels, to try to help the rest of the team searching for their captain, but when he had just taken a few steps from Buck, he called out Eddie’s name. Making him stop in his tracks, and face Buck. “Promise me you’ll find him and get him back to us.” Buck said.
“I promise.” Eddie answered, giving Buck a small smile. “Now, get out of here.”
-
(Y/n) watched the ceiling go from a bright blue, cloudless Los Angeles sky, to an “incredible” white office kind of ceiling. The oxygen mask was sticking to her skin, as she could still taste the concrete dust on her lips.
Everything around her was moving so slowly, the two paramedics from the other station were pushing the gurney. One at the back and one was pulling at the front where (Y/n)’s head was. Buck on the other hand was helping or at least assisting from the side, as he a few times glanced at the girl on the gurney.
“We’ve got an abdominal puncture wound, it seems to have missed major organs.” The paramedic in charge said, as one of the nurses fastened to the gurney to assist. “Already pushed two milligrams of morphine” the paramedic added as they pushed (Y/n) through the second pair of doors.
(Y/n) let her bloody hand grab the oxygen mask, and disconnected the mask from her sticky, dirty skin. “Make that four milligrams, it’s hard to see when you’re sideways.” She added to the explanation of the paramedic as she glanced over to Buck.
Buck couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, he placed his hand onto her’s which was holding the oxygen mask, and helped it place back where it belonged. He brushed his thumb over her hand, “Not to forget to mention that she’s pregnant” Buck added, without looking at any other person in the room but her.
The gurney was being pushed through another set of doors, as they finally entered the emergency room. Buck followed, he wanted to be there for her until she was being brought to surgery. “Trauma bay twelve” a female doctor's voice said, pointing to the right area. To be honest, (Y/n) wasn’t paying much attention to what was happening in the room. There were a hundred different things happening in the ER, and the only things she wanted were: the hole in her stomach being fixed and someone telling her that her baby was doing fine.
“You know you kinda look like Peter Parker in Endgame.” (Y/n) broke the silence as she was waiting on her gurney with Buck right next to it. Buck looked fully confused at his girl, what was she talking about? She pointed with her index finger at her face. “The dust and blood on your face.” she clarified, making Buck remember that he had in fact still had a head wound.
When (Y/n) was in surgery, Buck had been moved himself to the waiting room, where he had been now for way too long. Someone from the nurses did come to Buck, asking if he was okay and if he needed to be checked out. But he told them no, he was fine. The wound on his head was the least he was worried about. He needed his team to be fine.
He had been way too long in this waiting room now. Everybody from the 118 had been discharged but Bobby and (Y/n). Buck had his hands clasped together, and placed against his head, making it look like a prayer.
He was so out of the world that he didn’t realize Athena was standing next to him. She tapped him on the shoulder, while holding two cups of coffee in her hand. “Coffee?” she softly asked as she held it in front of his face.
His hands unclasped as he sighed, “thank you.” he said as he accepted the cup of coffee from Athena. “Doctors think they can release Bobby tonight. You?” Athena tried to start a conversation. “Uhm.. They’re finishing up some tests now, but the doctor said she’ll be fine. When the tests are clear, she’ll be released tomorrow morning.” Buck took a while to explain to Athena.
“You did good on that scene Buck.” Athena said as she took place in the seat next to Buck, the seat was being separated by a small table with a lamp. Buck held the cup of coffee between his hands as he stared into the distance. “Yeah? But why do I still have the feeling I failed?” he asked, as the heat of the cup warmed his hands.
“Buck, you stepped up when nobody else could or did. Maybe not everything did go as planned-” Athena tried to see the bright side of the situation. But it didn’t sit right with Buck. “She fell through the doors.” he started, as he kept his eyes across from him. ”The ambulance started moving, and the gurney went through the doors, taking (Y/n) with it.” he continued.
He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he didn’t think of that. He should’ve known the gurney would’ve yanked itself through the doors. He felt like he didn’t make enough scenarios in his head. He did make enough fake scenarios in his head, but didn’t think of that one.
“Buck.. listen, that wasn’t on you.” Athena started, ”You couldn’t have known the gurney would slip through the doors. That was impotence.” she added as she looked at Buck’s side profile.
On that note, he remained silent. She had a point. He took care of everything, and there would be some things he couldn’t control, like the gurney going through that, or the ground beginning to shift. He just nodded his head, telling himself she was right.
The silence remained for at least a small twenty seconds. “Did I hear it correctly? (Y/n) is pregnant?” Athena changed the subject. Buck glanced at Athena, looking confused. “Uh, yeah..” he said in a confused tone, “H-how?” he stumbled.
“Good news travels fast.” she smiled at him. ”Congratulations Buckaroo.” she said as she placed her hand onto his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “You’re going to be a great dad.” she continued to smile.
“(Y/n) Diaz?” Buck looked confused around, as he found the nurse holding a clipboard with pen in her hand. “Go” Athena whispered, as she pushed Buck softly. He stood up from the chair he was in, and handed his cup over at Athena. He didn’t even take one sip of his coffee, but that didn’t matter.
As fast as he could and wandered to the nurse. “She’s fine. Her wound has been patched up and we’ve made an ultrasound for the baby, who’s safely in the mother’s belly. If you want, you can see her now. She’s still in the ER, bay twelve.” the nurse told Buck.
It felt like a brick had been lifted off Buck’s chest, and he was finally able to breathe. He let out a deep sigh, as he felt the tears burning in his eyes.
She was fine. The baby was fine. They were going to be fine.
“Thank you.” he gasped, as he glanced one more time at Athena for some kind of approval. She gave him a small nod, and then he took off. He burst through the ER doors, aiming for trauma bay twelve. He kept repeating the number on his lips as he finally spotted his girl, in one of those awful hospital gowns. But on her, it looked amazing. She could wear a trashbag and still look amazing.
“Hi” the small greeting fell off her lips. A smile appeared on his face as he came closer. “Hi honey” he said, as he wrapped his arms around her. The feeling of her arms being wrapped around his body sent shivers down his spine. He didn’t know how long they were holding each other like that. It could’ve been minutes.
The grip around his body loosened, as (Y/n)’s hands slipped over his back, over his shoulders to his cheeks. Her warm hands were placed on his cheeks, as he leaned into her touch. “You’re okay” he whispered, making her smile. “No..” she said, making Buck’s smile slightly disappear, morphing into a confused look. “We are” she continued, placing her hand on her stomach.
The smile that disappeared, reappeared on his face. “You know what I also read?” she started, as she felt Buck’s warm lips attached to her forehead. “What did you read?” he asked, at the beginning of the day he was done with the articles. But right now, he knew he had to cherish the moment, because what if he didn’t get to her in time?
“Talking early to your child in the womb, they will recognize your voice sooner.” she continued, as she smiled at Buck and rubbed her hand over her belly.
He smiles as he retrieves out of her touch, and pulls one of the rolling chairs closer to him. One of the chairs doctors would use. He placed his face close to her side, on the same height of her belly. “Hi there, it’s your dad speaking..” he said softly, doubting if he should do this. It felt weird calling himself a dad now, even though he knew he was going to be one within thirty or more weeks.
“I hope your place is comfortable and warm. But I need you to do one thing..” He continued his one sided conversation as he glanced at (Y/n), her hand was placed on the back of his head, her hand softly tracing through his curls.
He turned his head back to the belly, as his warm hand touched her stomach with only the fabric of the hospital gown keeping them apart. “Be sweet for your mommy okay? I know she’s strong, and incredibly stubborn.” he grinned.
As soon as the word stubborn left his mouth, he smiled, but immediately received a flat hand on the back of his head which she used to trace through with her hand, just a second ago. “Alright, sorry. That was mean.” he apologized.
“But she has to carry you for at least forty weeks. So no morning sickness, or bigger breasts, or even random nosebleeds.” Buck’s voice sounded over the small trauma bay they were in as he kept his voice soft and low.
“Just stay in there, get comfortable. Mommy got you, trust me.”
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
207 notes · View notes
darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days ago
Text
Death Wish 10
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Photo Inspo
Tumblr media
“Come on, doll,” Barnes takes your hand and leads you across the room. You follow as you will for the rest of your life; obediently. 
His grip is like a vice as he guides you through the hall and down the stairs. Silence meets you at the bottom as your sisters no doubt hear the descent. Yet he doesn’t let you go nor make a move to leave. Instead, he brings you into the front room. 
He squeezes your hand, pressing the large ring into your finger, and releases you. He steps forward as Kitty turns away from the window and Adrienne stands from the sofa. He commands any room he enters and you don’t think you’ll ever be used to that. 
“Sisters,” he declares brightly, “that is what I will call you from now on.” 
He goes first to Kitty and places a kiss on her cheek, then does the same to Adrienne. Each watch him in confusion. You stare blankly. 
“And you can call me brother and ask for anything and everything you need,” he says. 
“Sir,” Kitty moves towards your younger sister. 
“I ask discretion for the time being as I tie up a few loose ends,” Barnes explains. “And we get you all settled where you need to be.” 
Your sisters blink at you then each other. You can’t say it out loud. That makes it real. 
Barnes turns on his heel, “speaking of loose ends, I should go.” 
He comes towards you and takes your hand again. He raises it, certain to show off the glaring diamond, and kisses it. The gesture makes your blood run cold. It is a statement. It isn’t the same as when you kiss his ring, it isn’t deference, no it is a show of ownership. 
“Have a good night,” you say at last. 
He pulls back and lowers your hand. He grins, “it’s already spectacular, doll.” 
He lets you go and steps past you. You stand, stuck in place, as he leaves. The door opens and closes, the hinges jarring you into motion. You go to lock it behind him and Kitty calls your name. 
“What’s going on?” She appears in the doorway. 
You take a breath before you face her. You shrug. Adrienne scrambles around her and snatches your hand. 
“Oh my god, it’s huge.” 
“Stop,” you try to tug your hand back. 
“You’re marrying him?” Kitty’s voice deflates by the last syllable. “Why?” 
You look between them. You can tell one sliver of the truth. “To keep us safe.” 
“Us? We’ll be fine. Barnes says we get an inheritance, we get houses, money--” 
“And then what? It’s not enough to last forever,” you argue. “Even if we can find work, we’ll never make enough to keep that. How long did you work at the yogurt shop before daddy threatened to burn it down? And I have about a week’s experience down at the diner.” 
“We can start now--” 
“We can start now and never reach the finish line,” you insist. “Kitty, you know who daddy was. You sat there and watched what they did to that man today. This isn’t a life you walk away from, even if he’s dead.” 
Adrienne sniffles. She’s on the edge of tears again. 
“So, you do it over? Marry another one? Go through it again?” Kitty challenges. 
“He can make sure that neither of you have to--” 
“We don’t need you to be our martyr,” Kitty argues. 
“I’m not--” you seal your lips and sigh. You wish you could tell her. You wish you could say I shot that fuck and he deserved it because you know she would have loved to do the same thing. Yet, saying it out loud means admitting that you’re all trapped for that moment of vengeance. “Kitty, how much choice do you think he gave me?” 
She stares at you. She knows exactly how it works. There is no asking with these men. 
“We could all go. Disappear.” 
“And they wouldn’t find us? How far could we get, really?” 
“Not far,” Adrienne pipes in. “Kitty, would you rather daddy still be here?” 
Your older sister is silent as her jaw squares. 
“I could marry instead. Maybe not Barnes but someone else. It shouldn’t be you. I’m the oldest--” 
“It is me,” you say, “and it could be any one of us but this is how it is. It’s... not the worst.” 
“It’s not?” Kitty says. “That man stood and ordered another beaten to death. He didn’t flinch.” 
“I know,” you say. 
“No, you don’t know,” Kitty insists, “you can’t be sure that he isn’t like daddy.” 
She’s right. Barnes might have helped vanquish the monster but it can’t erase his own misdeeds. Yet, you asked for all of this. You went there in the middle of the night and sold your soul. You could excuse yourself with naivete, but you deserve more to be branded by it. 
“If it keeps you two from men like daddy--” 
“Stop,” Kitty grabs you by the shoulders. “None of us deserve it.” 
“You stop,” you wrap your fingers calmly around her forearms and peel her hold off of you. “Should I go hand that man his ring back or do you want do it for me?” 
She untangles her wrists from your grasp and recoils. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes up against the threat of tears. She stamps her foot in frustration. 
“You tell me,” she points her finger at you. You’re almost stunned by the fire in her voice and face. Kitty is the sweet one, she’s gentle, but she has your mother’s quiet strength. “You tell me if he ever puts a bruise on you. You fucking tell me.” 
“Kitty,” you murmur. 
Adrienne covers her mouth and watches, swept up in the fraught emotion of it all. 
“No, because I spent a lifetime watching you two cry over that beast we called a father,” she snarls. “I will not waste the rest of my life doing the same. I thought—I thought we were free. I wanted us to be free.” She curls her lip and exhales heavily. “So, you will not lie to me again. And I will know. I will see right through him so you don’t even try to cover it up. One bruise...” she wags her finger then throw up both her hands with a frustrated growl. “I sound like him.” She turns and drags her feet to the stairs. She sits on one and hangs her head. “I sound like daddy. I’m just so... tired.” 
You look at Adrienne and reach for her. She gives you her hand. You bring her over to Kitty and touch your elder sister’s shoulder. She looks up through sparkling eyes. 
“You will know. We will all know. We are sisters and this doesn’t change that,” you say. “We stick together, no matter what.” 
“Oh, we will,” Kitty insists, “I will be at your damn house every day and I will look at that man and I will see all the cracks. Trust me you. He will not take you from us.” 
“Kitty, Ade,” you look from one to the other, “no one can take us from each other. If daddy did one thing, it was making sure of that.” 
201 notes · View notes
kpoperotics · 1 day ago
Text
A night with Yuna x male reader
Tumblr media
Yuna, your affectionate girlfriend. She enjoys you in a way she can't even describe, it's just that it's her first time and she's a little insecure.
Yuna, your needy yet insecure girlfriend is cooking for you, cooking is one of her hobbies she loves the most. She's making dinner for you, a simple one, nothing fancy; yet she pours her heart in what she does.
You're in the bedroom, chilling out on your phone when you hear sounds coming from the kitchen, so you decide to get up and go to help her if she needed. Once you're in the kitchen you see her walking around the kitchen, grabbing whatever she needs to prepare the food while she sings softly.
"Hey, do you need help?" you ask
"OH!" she gasps suddenly
oh, my god y/n, you scared me.. please don't do it anymore..!
She sighs
"and yeah... I'd appreciate if you could help me my love"
You giggle, helping her cooking.
"you're kind for helping me.." she whispers softly
"just doing what I like, I like helping you sweetheart"
You both make food together, enjoying each other's company. Then, once the dinner is made you sit and eat. You two have quite a conversation that evening
"so, Yuna, have you done what I told you today?" you know already that she hasn't done anything you told her, but not common things like buying the milk.
"eum... I-I.. well.." she stammers "I-I..."
"you didn't, mh?" you say
She looks down. Feeling ashamed "no.. I didn't.." she whispers softly, her voice trembling and insecure
"I told you... everyday you wake up, you have to look in the mirror, stare directly into your eyes and repeat to yourself that you're worth everything, that you're loved and that you're making it through everything"
Yuna looks down in shame and sadness
"sorry.." she whispers
"don't say that" You decide to go next to her, you know how hard it is for her to do something like that and you're not going to give up on her that easily
"b-but I'm a disaster.. I can't even say a simple phrase"
You look directly in her eyes, yet your stare is soft and understanding. "Yuna..." You envelop her in your arms, a few tears roll down her cheeks
"No Yuna.. don't cry" you wipe away her tears with your thumb. "Here come with me" you grab her in your arms and carry her to the couch, you sit and she stays on top of you, sitting on your lap; with your arms wrapped around her.
She's not crying her heart out, she's just letting some tears go, the weight of her actual mental health weighing on her. "Yuna, you need to believe in yourself, just like I do, I do believe in you and you know it"
You kiss the top of her head softly, then, you look directly into her eyes. Her eyes are wet and a little swollen, making her look cuter than she usually looks
"look at this girl, it's so impossible to hate her"
She looks at you, then she looks away. She leans her ear on your heart, listening to your heartbeat. The sound soothes her aching soul as she sinks into a full state of calmness and relax
You let her hear your heart beating, knowing how much this affects her positively
"Can I ask you something, Yuna?"
"yes..?" she answers
"Have you ever thought about us?" you ask
"about... about us..? well yes, I did sometimes... why you ask?"
"just to know, you know that I often think about us, about you"
"and that's why I love you.." she say softly, leaning in, capturing your lips in a soft delicate peck
You cup her head kindly with your hands, holding her in place as you slowly deepen the kiss. In short time, the kiss is deepened, you both pouring your heart in it
Yuna snuggles her body into yours as you hold her head in such a loving way. The kiss keeps going, just that way, not deeper but not shallower. The love in the air is palpable, the affection you pour in her soul every single second of your existence healing her from inside. You softly break the kiss, looking at her, beautiful like always.
"I'm so in love with you.." she says
"and so am I, my love" you answer
It's like the time has stopped, you two look into each other's eyes while you're also holding her tiny form in your arms. But then you decide to act a little bolder and ask her "Yuna, what do you think.. are you ready to make love?"
She blushes furiously, not knowing what to say at first "n-now?"
"yea, now" you answer, caressing her hair
She looks at you, the most insecure, scared yet trustful gaze. She doesn't know what to say, if yes or no. She's never had it before. She's virgin, and the idea of having sex with you now scares her
"you're safe here, you know that? I'm not going to hurt you I know it's your first time".
She looks at you, insecure. She thinks for a while as you keep caressing her and hold her close to you, then she says "okay, I-I think I can do it.."
Her hands are shaking, you hold them and bring them to your chest, tranquilizing her.
Tumblr media
"you're sure, mh?"
She nods softly, snuggling into you. She trusts you but she's scared "will it hurt?" she asks, "it may hurt at the first penetration"
She sighs softly in anxiety "it's okay, I'm ready to have this with you"
So after only a few seconds, you start taking off her clothes, slowly removing her bra with just a hand, allowing you to admire her tiny perfect breast.
"I'm starting, okay?"
"o-okay.." she trembles, but she knows you're not going to hurt her
You lean in and start kissing around her breast, your kisses are soft and delicate. She trembles more and she holds you tighter, she feels hot flashes as her traumas, insecurities and fears kicks in, but she doesn't want you to stop, she wants to overcome everything she's endured.
You keep going, now licking her nipples carefully. You feel her trembling and breathing quite heavily, but you keep going knowing she's fighting so good.
"You're doing so good Yuna" you say, she smiles at you.
"Keep.. I kinda like it though" she answer, and so you keep going. You lick her breast a little more, while your hands are starting to roam lower on her body.
She starts to breathe slightly heavier than usual, letting few really soft moans as you keep. She wraps her arms around your neck to pull you closer, you can tell she's quite liking this.
"I think I'm ready for more" Yuna says, her voice just above a whisper.
"Are you?" you answer.
"Yes, I am.." She says. So after she confirmed, you lie her down on the bed, making sure she's comfortable with you. You take your space between her legs, lying down on your belly and covering her thighs with your arms. You slowly and kindly start licking her folds and as you do that Yuna can't help but let out a surprised and aroused gasp. She's still where she is, too shy and embarrassed to do anything.
You take her hands in yours, making sure she feels safe besides the pleasure you know she's feeling. You keep licking her folds carefully and expertly, knowing well how to move since this isn't your first time.
Yuna moans and she tightens her grip on your hands while you give her all that pleasure. "Oh my goodness I feel something.." she whimpers, you know what she's feeling even if she doesn't
"You're coming Yuna, it's alright. You're cumming"
She looks at you, even if she can't focus at all and tries to speak something "a-am.. I.. am I what..?"
She doesn't even get to finish her sentence that her juices are all already on your tongue.
She trembles hardly and almost screams as she comes, it's the first time she feels so good, this good. She's amazed from her orgasm.
She looks at you amazed "W-wow.." you look back at her, "you liked it?"
"I loved it" she answers.
"c-can I try to... to suck your dick...?" she asks with a slight trembling voice
You chuckle and caress her softly "of course you can sweetheart".
So as you allow her, she shyly kneels down in front of you, taking off your pants with your underwear. You would have never said she was shy and bold in the same time.
She looks at it in awe, it's big and hard and even if it's her first time, she knows it's because of her. She gets closer to your shaft, looking at you with her soft eyes. "Don't be afraid, do it" you say, while stroking her head gently.
So after few seconds of her staring at it in awe, she parts her lips and takes it in her mouth, slowly, only the head first.
You watch her doing her best, and considering it's her first time, she's doing an esteemed job. She keeps going, slowly and taking more of you in her mouth. Taking her time, taking things slow; and you let her, you won't force anything.
Little by little she sucks you completely. She's now doing an admirable job, taking you deeper in her mouth. She bobs her head up and down on your shaft, making you let out a soft moan of pleasure. She's happy she's doing a great job on her first time, taking a little more of you with each bob.
Tumblr media
"Yuna you're an absolute goddess, how can you be so talented and it's only your first time.." You moan, while she doesn't pull away from your cock, too content to do a blowjob to you like this. She bobs her head slightly faster now, her confidence growing more and more with each bob and second passing.
"Oh Yuna, yes so good.. keep going" you say, caressing her head and encouraging her to do more again. She takes a short break, maybe a second or 2 before getting back on your length.
As she resumes her blowjob, she goes a little deeper, not much, but enough to almost push you over the edge.
"Yuna, I'm close, get ready for it.." you whimper.
Yuna closes her eyes again, not knowing what she's going to have. Excited to find out, she keeps going, her eyes closed, her lips running on your cock.. and then the moment comes. You come in her mouth. Her eyes open wide and she stops there where she is, her lips on the head of your cock.. trying to pull out every last drop of your cum from your balls.
"Wow Yuna.. you certainly have a talent here.." you say, amazed from her skills.
She smiles at you shyly "T-thank you y/n" she looks at you happily "I'm glad I was good"
You smile at her back. "next time, we'll go ahead.."
She gets up and leans on you "okay" she says, happily.
...After that, you're both on the couch in each other's arms watching a movie together.
203 notes · View notes
sage-the-dragon · 3 days ago
Text
(Hi, so this is in Jason’s POV with GN!reader. I hope you enjoy… this is my first time actually writing Jason so yay. Um warnings include allusion to potential suicide at the end, and reader becomes an aunt/uncle in one of the letters. Other then that it’s just Jason dealing with emotions 🙃)
The night was quiet except for the police sirens echoing throughout the city. The night was so quiet that I decided I would take off the helmet and be alone with my thoughts. A dangerous concept that I never really allowed myself to divulge into.
As I rode through the streets, letting my bike take me wherever it wanted, all my thoughts seemed to continuously circle back to them. Their laughter, their smile, all the small things that we did together before… I shook my head slightly, increasing the revs, it doesn’t matter now. They’ve moved on, they’ve forgotten me. And, it’s probably for the best.
I tried to think of anyone else, anything else. The lastest drug traffic, what black mask was up too. Anything. The hurt of being forgotten clawed at my heart, tearing its way into my chest. Tears filled my vision and I pulled off the road. Kicking the kickstand and turning off my bike, I practically through my helmet off. Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, my body ragged with emotion of my past life. My life before what he turned me into.
I looked up and around at where I was. Freezing, I saw the overgrown rusted sign reading ‘Gotham Cemetery’. Well, I suppose I couldn’t have stayed away forever. Sighing, I made the choice to visit my grave. Trudging along the unkept, loose gravel pathway, hands in my pockets and jacket zipped up, I walked towards the barren area of my grave.
I stopped in my tracks, someone was there. Was that… are they at my grave? Faint sniffles and talking could be heard, but I couldn’t make any of it out. I side stepped to a pillar of a gravestone, hiding behind it. I don’t know exactly why I did that, I suppose I wanted to see what this person was going to do without scaring them off. I watched from the distance, as the mysterious person placed something down, a hoodie concealing their features. I continued to watch them as they stood up. As they turned to walk away, a glimpse of moonlight struck their features.
“Y/N,” I whispered. They were here… they were visiting my grave. I- I wasn’t forgotten. I nearly slapped myself for even thinking that they could have forgotten me. Never cared for me. They were too kind for that, too thoughtful, too loving…
I watched as they walked away, hands in their pockets. As they exited the cemetery, I ran wandered over there.
There it is. ‘Jason Peter Todd’ ‘A Good Soldier’.
But below the ‘heartfelt’ writing, was a seemed to be fresh bunch of red roses and a sturdy looking box, a metal box that appeared to be waterproof. Looking around the grave yard for anyone, I opened the box. Inside was piles upon piles of letters. Each addressed to… me.
So of course I did the respectful thing and opened all of them. One by one. Reading all of them.
“To my dearest Jason,
I miss you so much. Not a day nor a second goes by where I do not think about you. Now does it result in my crying most of the day, yes. But I’m okay with that. If I could trade all my tears, all my book collections, all my memories before you just to bring you back to me, I would. You were are the dearest thing in the world to me, my most perfect boy, and nothing can ever change that.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
Tears pricked my eyes as I closed the letter just to open another one.
“To my darling Jason,
I went to school today. I haven’t been for a while because of… well, your departure. But I went today! The classes were boring, English made me think of you. Our friends say I’m not my usual self, but who can blame me. I only lost you 2 months ago. The wound is still fresh. But I know you would want me to continue school, get an education in this world, to take care of my self. It will be hard, but I know it will be worth it in the end. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, someday.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
Each letter recited their day to me. It was like I was there, having them come home to me and telling me every little thing they did that day. Like I was watching them do it. A smile was plaster on my face as tears were streaming down my face. I barely noticed except for the few drops that landed on the paper. I was so incredibly happy, yet so incredibly sad. They didn’t forget me, they love me. Anger tore through me, I can’t believe that fucker took me away from them. But I continue reading. New emotions tearing through me with each day or week that I read. New boyfriend? Instant no, turns out that they broke up after a week. Good, still single then.
A twinge of guilt hit me as I though that as I closed the letter. They should be happy. They deserve to be happy, I shouldn’t be happy that a relationship didn’t work out because it wasn’t with me.
I continued on reading all night and into the early morning.
“To the love of my life that will forever have my heart,
I became an aunt/uncle (I’m sorry I don’t know a gender neutral term 😭) today!! I have a beautiful nephew named Ben. I’m so happy, he’s so cute and already curious for the world. He reminds me of you actually. I was a crying mess when I held him in my arms for the first time. My sister is so happy but recovering from the birth. I wish you could meet him. As I wish on every single shooting star I see, somehow wishing you back into existence with me. To have everything how it should be. You and me together.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
As the sun’s rays started to bless the dark Gotham sky, glistening on my tear streaked face and soppy grin. I came to the last letter. The letter that they just put here today, or I suppose yesterday now.
“To my precious boy,
I love you with all my heart, and I will never stop. But times are getting hard and all I want in life is to see you again. I know it’s bad. I know I should go talk to someone, but non of them understand. Except for Dick, I see him every fortnight when he comes up to Gotham from Bludhaven. I don’t long for anything on this earth anymore than I long for your arms around me again. Your scent to envelope me again. All your clothes have lost your scent, your room in the manor is losing it too.
No one understands me like you do Jay. Every new relationship that my friends nudge me towards fail because I’m looking for you. Your caring nature, your love for classic literature, your passion for fighting for those that can’t fight for themselves. I miss you too much, and I have tried so hard these past 2 years… I know you must be disappointed in me. But you’ve surely seen me struggle these past years without you.
I love you so so much, I hope you can forgive me when we meet again very soon.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
My eyes widened as I finished the letter. My brain short circuited, not computing what I just read. They were- no I can’t let that happen. I shoved the letter back into the box with the others and ran to my bike.
No one could save me. But I damn well as going to save them.
Please Y/N, I love you too. Every wish you made has come true. I’m here now, just wait a little longer. I memorised their current address from 2 of the letters they had written. I didn’t care for the road rules, the street signs, the speed limits. I was getting them before we had a reverse Romeo and Juliet.
jason todd x reader where the reader still presumes he’s dead and visits his grave every week to give him a letter because they used to communicate through letters for fun to the point where his grave has boxes of letters. meanwhile, jason thinks reader forgot about him until he visits his own grave to see reader dropping off another letter and after they leave he takes the time to read each letter they’ve left since he died and gets emotional. okay, goodnight !
2K notes · View notes