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redhoodinternaldialectical · 2 months ago

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I 100% have a whole Scheme planned out for the super likely and definitely going to happen event in which I win the Comics Books Lottery and get to be the CEO of DC for a day lmao I have been dreaming about what I'd do for this for MONTHS!

welcome to the first draft test screening of...

Red Hood: Vein Tides

ISSUE #1

We open on a panel of a mugging which has just begun, then, the next panel pulls back to show us the looming silhouette of THE RED HOOD looking down. The view of the mugging is split into two panels side by side across the width of the page with the blacked out shape of Jason in the middle, poised to spring down and attack!

But he doesn't. Instead we see his inner monologue as he continues to let this go on.

The panel on the left holds the mugger and Jason's first thought box: [John Abernac. Father of four. He lives down the street. He's also about to get evicted due to late rent.]

The panel on the right holds the victim [Don't recognize her. Do recognize the pearls. Genuine. Two grand, easy, if you know a good fence.]

We face Jason, seeing him in an impassive, unreadable full face mask OR in full creacher mode with only the two red dots of his eyes visible in the darkness of the hood. [Four kids kept off the streets for the price of endangering one stranger who can clearly afford it? Simple math... so long as nothing goes wrong.]

The mugger reaches for her jewelry. [Maybe I don't love or understand God...]

[But I am praying.] Closeup of his white knuckle grip on the hilt of his kris.

The mugging goes as fine as threatening someone with a knife for their possessions can. He wasn't needed, and tonight, everybody walks away unharmed.

Jason steps away from the edge and breathes a sigh of relief. [That's the difference between me and Bruce... He's never been able to make the hard choices.]

[And after tonight, with any luck, any luck at all, I won't have to.]

The rest of the issue sees Jason making sure everyone in his territory is okay, settling scores, and paying up debts, at one point literally sending small sums of cash to various members of his friends/family, culminating in him shedding his armor and physically cleaning his home and giving back a borrowed object as a civilian.

He checks his now incredibly clean apartment and declares his satisfaction [Perfect.] Then we linger on him hesitating for a moment before deciding against calling his landlord.

Then he leaves the apartment, passing by a janitor who he smiles and waves to. [Not here. I can't do that to him. Besides, I've always been partial to Lydia Tomkiw's view of it.] The last part being a reference to this song.

He walks through the streets and down to the water, hiding himself away with his back against a support pillar and the water up to his gut.

He holds a gun up to his temple. [I felt so light and free all day today that it actually surprises me when I feel fear in the end.]

He screws his eyes shut, tears rolling down his cheeks. [I am so, so scared.]

He pulls the trigger and we see the muzzle flash from afar lighting up the sunset and then a panel of the sunset as it tints purple.

ISSUE #2

Jason wakes up in the hospital, having been found by beachgoers at Amusement Mile and rescued. The bullet only grazed his skull and he almost drowned, but all in all it only took pumping the seawater out of him to get him well enough to wake up and walk out.

He goes home, curls up in the shower, and weeps.

This has firmly cemented in his mind a suspicion that he's long held: [Death is a mercy God has forbidden me from receiving.] <- this should be the first actual thought or speech we hear from him this Issue.

He gets dry and dressed and sits down. Several panels of him simply staring at the floor. Then he thinks [Well... guess it's a good thing I didn't cancel my lease after all.] and the bleak humor of how unfairly mundane that is seems to break him out of the paralysis of depression somewhat.

He weakly resolves that he's got to find something to do or be or whatever that will make it worth surviving.

He can't name anything that could possibly do it though. He's not honestly sure he can remember a time in his adult life that he was actually fulfilled or at all happy.

In the meantime though, there's no rest for the wicked. Some how or another he finds out about a secret underground laboratory that's right beneath his feet and has been producing batches of highly rare designer drugs.

He sneaks his way into the laboratory and we end with a panel of his face, he looks awed. [It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...]

ISSUE #3

Full page dramatic panel as Jason stands before a huge vat filled with a horrific squid-human-crab hybrid. From behind him out of panel comes a speech bubble. "So, Red Hood, what do you make of our latest creation?!"

"It's gorgeous..."

The awe in his voice and the unusual response is enough to break the traditional back and forth that a hero and villain ought to have at this juncture. So, when he turns around and reveals our Villains(?), Monsieur Mallah and The Brain, they don't start fighting.

Instead he gets a tour of the facility as a potential ally - or, well, more like a potential landlord and mafia jackass who's going to demand a cut of the profits from all the drugs they've been making in order to fund this operation.

This also gives us a tour of their goals. "Clones, I'm sure you've noticed, tend to disintegrate very, very quickly. The solution to this is generally to add enormous amounts of non-human DNA, specifically lobsters and octopuses and anything else that demonstrates significant resilience to aging"

The problem is that they can't get anything even remotely human out of the process. Vaguely Bipedal is about the best they've ever managed, and the Brain doesn't want to be stuck as a pile of incoherent stabbing limbs and slimy tentacles. So, the progress of science marches ever onwards, one failed, brainless squid monstrosity at a time.

And they are brainless! No brain or even any spinal chord in their vertebra - they aren't eager to make a bunch of minions that'll inevitably turn on them when they learn they were made purely to have their brains scooped out to house The Brain.

Or, at least they claim that they're brainless and why should anyone be trusting them? In every panel, Jason's thought boxes have been consumed with figuring out ways to take out the lab, the guards, and of course the loving duo of evil themselves.

And when he finally gets to the end of the tour Jason's mind is made up:

It's too dangerous to take them on without good reason. The lab is positioned right underneath an apartment building that houses at least a hundred people and there's no way in hell he can take this place out without it being a blood bath that seriously risked opening up a sink hole right under all those innocent people.

Plus, they just aren't doing anything all that evil! [Who gives a shit if they're doing weird experiments on a bunch of animals? The world does worse things for hamburgers every day.] The audience is meant to be made a little uncomfortable by the fact he cares so little about the animals.

So he gives them his stipulations for safety and selling practices with regards to the drugs and agrees to let them stay in his territory - And silently resolves to follow up on the brainlessness claim to make sure they're on the level with that one. [Zapping animals? Fine. Making an army of disposable quasi-people? Not so fine.]

Jason leaves, trying to think of what to do next to keep the soul crushing depression at bay. He's about to despair that his only options are sleep and throwing himself off of this roof - when suddenly he spots Damian moving into a nearby building.

ISSUE #4

Jason follows Damian and inserts himself into whatever fight Damian gets himself into.

It turns out that Damian has been tracking down an odd case: designer drug manufacturers with a penchant for rare animal smuggling on the side... He's after the lab that Jason has just sanctioned.

Damian confronts Jason about the drugs that are coming from his territory. "And you mean to tell me you are simply okay with this poison spilling out from underneath your own nose?"

"Hey, what do I care if the people of the Diamond District have gotten bored of their usual highs? Besides, it's not coming out of my territory, just moving through it. You'll have better luck trying the other Robin down at the docks - good f%$king luck getting him to cooperate as much as I am by the way."

Damian leaves, hopefully none the wiser for now, and hopefully this will give Jason enough time to figure out a plan.

Because seriously, what is he DOING?!

Jason looks down at his hands, trying to sort out why on earth he'd felt any desire to stick his neck out for them.

His reasons for not taking Mallah and the Brain down immediately fall apart like this. On his own he stands a high chance of making a deadly sinkhole, but a whole team? They could just dedicate one of them to keeping collateral to a minimum, problem solved.

All the same, for reasons he doesn't even understand himself, Jason thinks again of the haunting beauty of the horrific squid beast and he cannot bear the thought of its legacy coming to naught.

We change over to Damian clashing with Tim as he tries to find the information on this case that Tim supposedly has.

They figure out pretty fast that Jason lied to him about it.

This has him... well, Damian would never call it scared, but it provides a distinct sense of concern. He remembers fighting Jason with Dick, the way he ran rings around them, the way things went very, very badly for every other bat who has tried to fight him one on one, and how Jason required basically ALL of them to catch him in Task Force Z - and it turned out that Jason had simply meant to get captured anyways at the end of it.

Together, Tim and Damian decide they need to call in The Big Guns. They each pull out their phones and dial, with the last two panels showing that Tim is calling Cass and Damian is calling Dick.

((Though, Author's Note here: I'm not sure I have enough room in this plot to justify this many characters. I may axe Cass, bc as is she has to get sidelined pretty damn heavily, since this is really about Dick and Jason. I might end up axing Tim too, or maybe instead of her? Could have her fill in his plot beats? Idk, we'll see. Sometimes not including a character at all feels more respectful than shoe horning them in and out of the plot, even though it would logically make sense for them to be involved.))

ISSUE #5

We open into a scene of Jason arguing with Mallah and the Brain, trying to convince them to pack up and move. In turn, they're demanding that he either fuck off or buy them time to make one last attempt. Being captured and being forced to move on both bring them to effectively the same square one and they'd rather fight it out.

Jason snarls. "You two-bit morons already know exactly what's going to happen if you stay! You'll make yet another body that's 90 percent fish, fuck yourselves over with your own damned pickiness, and get your shit kicked in by every damned vigilante in the city!"

"Since you are so concerned with my Husband's so called 'pickiness', then I am sure you won't mind it if we put you into one of these failures and take your body for ourselves!"

The idea shocks Jason and we transition into a flashback via panel edges shaped like shattered glass

[Memories. Not exactly mine - a different Jason, a different reality...]

Various thoughts play out over panels roughly summarizing the tenta-Todd-tacular events of the Nightwing run Brothers in Blood. [Joy.] [Freedom from pain.] [Finally feeling like a part of my body rather than a prisoner inside it.] [Power. Thrilling strength.]

We fade back the present moment as Jason realizes, [I could have it all again...]

"Do it!" Jason thrusts out his exposed wrist. "Take a sample then, see if I'm compatible!"

This again brakes the flow of the normal Villain-Hero dynamic, and Mallah cautiously steps forwards and stabs him with some kind of super science gadget.

He mutters some comic science mumbo jumbo and declares him to be a viable body donor.

The Brain says, "It will take at least 48 hours to build your body. If you cannot keep your associates away from us for that long, we will simply have to go ahead with the surgery - without a destination for your grey matter... Deal?"

"Try to take it without and I'll turn both of you into a fine pink paste spattered across the walls. Deal."

Scene transition into a planning session as Jason assesses the resources and forces available to him for the purpose of misdirecting the bats. He's planning for everyone, even though he knows that most of them have far bigger fish to fry right now.

He briefly gets out into the field and talks to various goons and mooks, setting up his pieces, but it's clear he's planning on fighting many of the Bats himself, one at a time, ideally. He knows he's no match for them all at once, but one on one he's got good odds he can take anyone except Cass and Dick.

Then Jason is called back to the lab for surgical preparations. They're checking his blood pressure, taking a bit of his last minute medical history, determining if he's allergic to any particular kinds of anesthesia, getting told when to start fasting, getting his head shaved, that sort of thing.

We see Jason staring into the main cloning tank. In the dark water within we see the mass of cells that will form his new body. In the dark of Jason's metaphorical mind space we see a soft blue glow in roughly the same shape as the mass of cells.

The Brain joins him. "Horrid, isn't it?"

"I thought we'd been over this already."

"I meant the Hope."

"Oh..."

They briefly discuss the shared pain of brutal failures suffered over and over and over again, of existing in a world that seems bent on nothing but retreading their greatest moments of suffering, always leaving relief just out of reach, and about the simple truth of why they both keep trying:

There's nothing left for them if they ever try to stop.

We end with Jason gearing up to go out and fight, outfitted with some yet-to-be-revealed gadgets from his temporary allies.

ISSUE #6

Most of this issue is dedicated to his fights with the other Bats and their encounters with his schemes.

During these fights, it's very clear to see he's gained back some of his zest for life, flipping and shit talking and joking around in a distinctly Robin way - something that's been absent from his fighting style for years now, and wasn't there in earlier fight scenes in this series either.

He returns to the lab battered, bruised, tired, but victorious and mostly unharmed.

He rests against a wall and listens in on a conversation between Mallah and Brain. They're talking about what they're looking forwards to doing with his body. Drinking tea, feeling the warmth of the sunset, holding each other. It's soft and sweet, and a striking contrast to the way he's always viewed his own body. It leaves Jason more determined than ever that he's doing the right thing.

ISSUE #7

The bats can tell they're being maneuvered, and so switch from trying to directly catch Jason, to trying to catch a mook who knows enough that they can start catching up to Mr. Three Steps Ahead.

Another frustrating as hell fight with Jason later and they manage to catch someone that's actual been inside the lab. However, they don't know much beyond the basics because Mallah, The Brain, and the Red Hood keep speaking French to each other and not many of them understand it - it's a cloning lab, they know the way to get to it, the bosses have changed the plan to stealing the Red Hood's body, and no one seems to know why the Hood isn't fighting them about that.

The Bat group assumes that Jason must have fallen for a trick, that maybe they'd falsified some kind of terminal diagnosis and were offering some kind of false promise of a cure or something. It would go some way towards explaining why a few of his actions lately have seemed an awful lot like tying up loose ends...

Dick isn't so sure, though. Something about it feels off. Even ignoring the fact that Jason's way too clever to get duped like that, would he really go to some random supervillains for a cure instead of just... waiting it out? Or finding a proper blaze of glory? However, without a better idea to propose, he hesitantly goes along with the group's ideas.

Back at the lab, Jason looks at his new body, far more formed now, and listens to the technician walk him through what it's likely to be able to do once fully matured. He gives some last minute input on the ratios of how much species's genetics will be expressed. Lots of silly comic book science about how octopus DNA alone could give him the limited shape shifting abilities he's after, but adding in sea sponge or clam DNA will be necessary if he wants the sort of toxin filtration systems needed to survive living in the Gotham Harbor.

For once, he finds himself truly looking forwards to tomorrow, eager to see what life in the water is like, rather than merely grimly resigned to enduring another day.

[It's almost unbearable. Too soft, too kind. It's all I can do to keep myself from trembling.]

ISSUE #8

We're down to the final hours of the cloning process. The bats have finally managed to side step Jason's schemes and it's down to tunnel warfare down in the storm drains and sewers of the city.

They're having to fight for every damned inch of ground against mooks and dozens of traps clearly designed to disable them, but it's clear to see that it's only a matter of time before they reach the lab proper.

Alarms blare as they breach the doors and Jason stands ready to greet them, loaded for bear with armor and weapons.

Dick tries to get Jason to stop fighting so they can talk, beating around the bush like, "We just want to make sure you know what you're getting into..."

Jason is reasonably responding with different versions of "Fuck off with that patronizing horseshit!"

Tim gets tired of this and yells out, "He is trying to steal your body so he can f@#k a gorilla, goddamn it!"

This successfully shocks Jason to a standstill. Genuinely horrified he says, "Tim! Mallah is a person with a name! That's his husband!"

Then in the next panel Jason continues, while firing his guns at them again, "What they do in the privacy of their bedroom with my body is none of your business!"

Tim, dodging bullets, "What?! You think this is ending in a three-"

"I DEMAND WE CEASE THIS LINE OF QUESTIONING AT ONCE," Damian interjects, while stabbing.

Jason backflips away, cackling - and then the device on his wrist beeps as the countdown displayed on it reaches zero. "Ah well, this was fun folks, but it's time for the finale!"

He bolts as fast as his legs can carry him, heading for the surgical suite with his pursuers nipping his heels. The Brain has already gotten into the machine, and Mallah practically slams him into his end of it.

Jason has one last moment to look longingly towards his new body, the first glimpse we see of it in its completed form, then the anesthesia takes him under.

Mallah punches the lockdown button that will seal this room off from the outside world, but he's too late. Nightwing manages to slide underneath the blast doors at the last possible second

A tense one on one, man versus ape fist fight ensues. Mallah is clearly giving it his all, but in the end, Dick wins. He stabs a tranq into Mallah and is left alone with the controls.

He opens the case protecting the ABORT button.

One panel goes by without his fingers lifting off of the case. Then two. Then three.

He closes it again, walking away and pacing the room. He looks at Jason, floating in his tank, tubes and wires hooked up to him, various horror movie style buzzsaw arms and massive injector needles hovering over him, and starts talking to his sleeping form.

"How could you possibly...? This is- it's repulsive, it's insane, it's..."

He looks down silently for a moment.

Dick walks to the control panel again and begins typing. "I know you. They're wrong. They underestimate you. This has to be what you want for yourself... And you've had too much of that taken from you already..."

The computer speaks as the machine whirs to life, and we get to see the saws baring down on his skull, {PROCEDURE INITIATED - PREPARING DONOR BODY}

Outside we see that this has triggered the last ditch defense mechanisms of the laboratory. The whole place is quickly flooding with seawater. {TRANSFERRING PATIENT TO DONOR - TRANSFERRING DONOR TO SHELL}

The rest of the bats are forced to evacuate while Dick scrambles to get the emergency breathing equipment onto himself and Mallah who is groggily beginning to wake up.

{TRANSFER COMPLETE - WAKING PATIENT AND DONOR}

The last page is absolute chaos as Jason practically explodes out of his tank, laughing and shouting his victory, spiky red rimmed speech bubble and all :3

ISSUES #9 and #10

Everyone scatters -Mallah and the Brain escape onto some kind of helicopter or something, Jason crashes his way into the harbor, and the Bats are left cleaning up the mess.

We focus on Jason learning his new powers, and just enjoying the feeling of swimming and transforming and playing kraken with a boat full of people smuggling guns out of the US.

We get a small aside to show Mallah and the Brain living it up somewhere, maybe Zandia if that's still a thing. Ideally this will include a tasteful fade to black, because, of course, what they do in the privacy of their own bedroom with Jason's the Brain's body is none of our business.

I also want to have a scene where Jason returns to the spot where he committed suicide in the first issue, but I'm not exactly sure how I want to handle it. I want something that both shows that he's happy to be alive, but also that he doesn't regret having made the attempt. I want him to reject the narrative that it was a mistake, instead seeing it as... a vital part of his autonomy I suppose? I have complicated thoughts on it and they aren't quite fully formed yet, but I know I want to have him respect his former self's decision. His decision to become a sea monster is of the same substance after all.

The final scene has Dick taking a boat (Tim's?) out into the water at night and luring Jason up to him. They talk for a little while, about how he's doing, whether or not he can actually participate in life on land anymore (he can), and Jason thanks him with a hug before they part ways again.

Obviously, DC would almost certainly undo both the Brain getting a body, and Jason gaining monster powers :/ Tis tragic, but! The point of this would be to force them to actually put some damned work into it! No last minute return to the status quo, you want that shit back you're gonna have to take a whole ass other story arc to get there >:3

And of course, alas, SOMEDAY I'm going to be able to admit to myself that DC will never ever let me install this shit into their canon and simply draw it as the fan comic it was meant to be lol

Serious question: DC has asked you (yes you 🫵) to write a 10 issue Jason Todd comic run. No conditions or stipulations, any era, any supporting cast, any villain. What do you do?

#damian's tomfoolery #sorry not sorry for this being friggin massive lmao

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mahendraeyeinstitute · 2 years ago

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Advance Eye care and LASIK Training Courses in India: Enhancing Vision through Expertise

Best Lasik/ PRK Training Programm In India

Hello there, fellow readers! Today we're diving into the exciting world of advance eye care and LASIK training courses in India. Buckle up, because we're about to explore the wonders of vision enhancement through expertise. Get ready to be awed by the intricate complexity of the eye, learn about proper eye care practices, discover the benefits of LASIK surgery, and understand the importance of skilled professionals in the field. Oh, and did I mention we'll be talking about all the futuristic advancements in eye care? So, grab a seat, put on your glasses (if you need them), and get ready for a mind-opening journey into the world of eye care! Let's begin!

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Introduction: Welcome, welcome, all the eyeballs out there! Today, we are diving deep into the mesmerizing realms of the eye. Buckle up, folks, because we're about to witness the wonders of this complex organ and its extraordinary functions. The Marvels of the Eye: Let's start by appreciating the sheer complexity of the eye. It's like a mini superhero, fighting off evil rays of light and giving us the gift of vision. Can you believe that this tiny powerhouse is made up of various parts, each with its own unique role to play? I know, it's mind-boggling! First up, we have the cornea, the clear front part of the eye. Think of it as the eye's armor, protecting it from harmful elements and helping to focus light. Then come the lovely iris and pupil, the dynamic duo responsible for controlling the amount of light entering the eye. They're like bouncers, deciding who gets to party inside. Fancy, isn't it? Moving on, we have the lens, a versatile component that adjusts its shape to focus on objects up close or far away. It's the eye's personal camera lens, always adapting to capture the perfect shot. And let's not forget about the retina, the light-sensitive tissue at the back of the eye, which converts incoming light into electrical signals that our brain can interpret. It's like a secret agent, transmitting valuable information to the brain headquarters. Now, don't get me started on the optic nerve, the unsung hero that connects the eye to the brain. It's the ultimate messenger, delivering those electrical signals at lightning speed. Oh, and did I mention the eye has its own natural moisturizer? Yes, tears are not just for dramatic moments in movies; they help keep the eye lubricated and prevent our peepers from drying out. So, folks, there you have it—the jaw-dropping world of the eye and its multitasking parts. Who knew something so small could be so extraordinary? Remember, take good care of those peepers because they truly are a marvel in the great framework of the human body. Stay tuned for our eye care practices and LASIK training courses because we're about to witness the magic of enhancing vision through expertise!

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Eye Care Practices

Eye Care Practices Let's talk about the oh-so-important topic of eye care practices. Because let's face it, without our eyes, life would be pretty dull. And by dull, I mean stumbling into walls and mistaking your cat for a laundry basket. Not ideal, right? So, let's dive into some key points that will help us maintain healthy eyes and avoid any embarrassing encounters with inanimate objects. First up, we have regular eye check-ups. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Ugh, another appointment to add to my never-ending schedule." But trust me, these check-ups are crucial. They help identify any potential issues early on, preventing them from escalating into major problems. Plus, it's an excuse to wear those fashionable paper glasses while pretending to be a mad scientist. So, win-win! Next, let's chat about tips for maintaining those peepers in tip-top shape. One word: hygiene. Yes, I'm talking about washing your hands before touching your eyes. Sorry, but your fingers are not magical fairies that can cleanse themselves of all germs. And please, let's not forget the golden rule—avoid rubbing your eyes like there's no tomorrow. Not only does it make you look like you've just finished a Nicholas Sparks marathon, but it can also lead to irritation and infection. Also, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those late-night Netflix binges are not doing your eyes any favors. Remember to give your eyes regular breaks from screens and indulge in some good ol' natural light. Trust me, the real sun is much better than the glare of yet another cat video. So, my fellow eye enthusiasts, let's make a pact to take care of our precious windows to the soul. Regular check-ups and a few simple habits are all it takes to ensure our eyes stay healthy and happy. And if you adhere to these practices, who knows? Maybe one day you'll have the vision of a superhero. Well, minus the ability to shoot lasers from your eyes, but hey, we can't have it all!

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LASIK Training Courses in India

So, you're interested in LASIK training courses in India, huh? Well, you've come to the right place! Let's delve into the world of this popular eye surgery and discover why India is the ideal destination for mastering this skill. First things first, what exactly is LASIK? LASIK, short for Laser-Assisted In Situ Keratomileusis, is a surgical procedure that aims to correct refractive errors in the eye, such as nearsightedness, farsightedness, and astigmatism. This state-of-the-art technique uses a laser to reshape the cornea, improving vision and reducing the dependency on glasses or contact lenses. Now, why should you consider LASIK surgery? Well, how about bidding farewell to those pesky glasses and contact lenses? LASIK offers the opportunity to achieve visual freedom, allowing you to wake up in the morning and see the world clearly without reaching for your spectacles. It's like a dream come true! Plus, let's not forget the convenience and cost savings of ditching those corrective visual aids. But why choose India for LASIK training? Oh boy, where do I even begin? India is not only a renowned hub for medical tourism but is also home to some of the best eye care professionals in the world. With cutting-edge technology, state-of-the-art clinics, and highly skilled surgeons, India provides a conducive environment for honing your LASIK skills. And let's not forget about the affordable costs, which won't burn a hole in your pocket. Whether you're an aspiring eye surgeon or an ophthalmologist looking to expand your expertise, India has a wide range of training programs and courses available to suit your needs. These comprehensive programs ensure that you gain the necessary knowledge and hands-on experience to excel in the field of eye care. Imagine the impact you can make on the lives of countless patients once you become an expert in LASIK! You'll be able to transform their blurry world into a crystal-clear one, filled with vibrant colors and sharp details. It's like being a superhero for their eyes! So, consider India as your go-to destination for LASIK training courses. Unlock your potential, enhance your skills, and embark on a fulfilling career in eye care. The future of vision awaits you!

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Ah, eye care, the gateway to a world of clearer vision and fewer eyestrain headaches. Isn't it amazing how a small organ like the eye can have such a significant impact on our daily lives? Well, let me tell you, my friend, the wonders of the eye are nothing short of miraculous. When it comes to eye care, it's not just about popping in a pair of cool spectacles and looking like an intellectual. No, no! It's about having skilled professionals who understand the complexities of this delicate organ and can provide expert care. Because let's face it, entrusting your precious peepers to just anyone with a medical degree is like giving a caveman a smartphone; disaster is bound to happen. Thankfully, there are various training programs and courses available to nurture the next generation of eye care superheroes. These programs equip aspiring eye care professionals with the knowledge and skills to handle everything from routine check-ups to complex surgeries. It's like a boot camp for your eyes, ensuring that they receive the top-notch care they deserve. But what's the impact of expert eye care on patients, you ask? Oh, buckle up, my friend, because it's a wild ride. With skilled professionals at the helm, eye care goes beyond just prescriptions and surgeries. It's about fostering a relationship of trust and understanding. It's about ensuring that each patient receives personalized care based on their unique needs. It's like having your very own eye care superhero, swooping in to save the day with their expertise and knowledge. So, my dear readers, in a world where our eyes are constantly bombarded by screens and bright lights, it's essential to recognize the importance of skilled professionals in eye care. Let's not settle for anything less than the best for our precious peepers. After all, there's nothing quite like the joy of seeing the world with clear and vibrant vision. Stay tuned for more eye-opening adventures in the future of eye care! Break Time: 😎⛱️ Break Time: 🍹🌴 Break Time: 🌞🏖️

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The Future of Eye Care

The Future of Eye Care Advancements in eye care technology are revolutionizing the way we perceive the world (pun absolutely intended). From the classic spectacle to fancy contact lenses, the options for improving your vision are endless. And let's not forget LASIK surgery, a procedure that can give you the gift of near-perfect eyesight. It's like magic, but with lasers! But it doesn't stop there. Innovation and research in the field of eye care are constantly pushing the boundaries of what we thought was possible. Scientists and experts are tirelessly working to find new ways to prevent and treat eye conditions. They are like superheroes, fighting against the villains of impaired vision and eye diseases. With advanced technology like virtual reality and artificial intelligence, researchers are exploring new avenues to diagnose eye problems more accurately and at an early stage. So gone are the days when you had to rely on blurry vision as an excuse not to do the dishes. Now, you can simply put on a VR headset and escape into a world with crystal-clear vision. Besides, technology is not the only thing progressing. The field of eye care is also witnessing tremendous growth in terms of knowledge and expertise. Eye care professionals are getting more specialized training and honing their skills to provide the best possible care to their patients. After all, they need to stay one step ahead of those crafty eyes that decide to misbehave at the most inconvenient times. So, dear reader, the future of eye care looks bright (literally). With advancements in technology and continuous innovation, we can expect a world where perfect vision is the norm. Just imagine a life without squinting or fumbling for your glasses in the morning. Sounds like a dream, doesn't it? Well, in the world of eye care, dreams do become a reality. So keep those eyes peeled (but not literally) for the exciting developments on the horizon. And remember, when it comes to eye care, the future is definitely looking clearer (pun, once again, intended).

Conclusion

The blog post has now come to an end. Thanks for your hard work, and congratulations! Now, let me quickly summarize the key points for you, because I know how much you love summaries. In a nutshell, we've explored the world of advanced eye care and LASIK training courses in India. From understanding the complexities of the eye to the importance of regular eye check-ups and maintaining healthy eyes, we've covered it all. But wait, there's more! We've also delved into the realm of LASIK surgery and its benefits, along with why India is the place to go for LASIK training. And of course, we can't forget about the significance of skilled professionals in eye care, the various training programs available, and how expert eye care can make a massive difference in patients' lives. Lastly, we've touched on the future of eye care, including advancements in technology and ongoing innovation and research in the field. Exciting stuff! So, with that, we bid adieu. Keep your eyes peeled for more fascinating content coming your way. As always, stay curious and take care of those precious peepers of yours!

If you want to have best Lasik training at affordable fees, please visit this website👇

LASIK/PRK TRAINING PROGRAMME

#eye hospital in kanpur #kanpur #mahendra eye institute #best lasik institute in india

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shdo-xplosion · 2 years ago

Text

☼masterlist☼

02 <- ☼ -> 04

warnings: 1.6k, captivity, restraints, non-con, forced orgasms, forced lactation, fingering, exhibitionism/voyeurism, toys, fisting, gape, orgasm torture

notes: this one took me a while because i could not find a good place to write it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but here ya go! this is gross! (also i have zero experience with lactation, but this is sci-fi so let’s just pretend)

tags: @ssplague @makepastanotwar13 @kaidabakugou @kiarathace @kllrkitty @itachiwho @siempre-entre-dos-opciones-blog @clerdecat

let me know if you would (or would not) like to be tagged, but you must have your age somewhere visible on your blog!

You don’t know how long it is before Kat returns, no way to tell when it’s day or night (or even if this planet has days and nights, how long they may last). A different alien had come in some time ago to clean you, or so you assume. It had spread some sort of gel over the exposed parts of your body, the substance tingling then drying by itself.

The creature had also given you something, held a gun shaped object to your thigh, aimed right at your femoral artery, and shot you with what you guess to be sustenance considering the way your appetite was suddenly satiated.

Despite not feeling as drained as before, headache and stomach cramps having subsided, your heart drops when you see Kat walk in followed by two others that you vaguely recognize from when your crew had first arrived.

He thinks their names before you have to ask, and the closest you can get is Deku and Kiri. Both are even larger than Kat, a fact that makes you swallow nervously. He had told you he would find better ways to stretch you. Is this how? Are they going to…?

No. They’re just here to watch.

Also scary but not as bad as it could be.

Kat fiddles with the panel behind you again, tightening restraints, spreading your legs, just like last time. You already know that any struggling is useless, so you focus more on your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

The device on your chest has been active for some time, and though Kat doesn’t adjust anything on that, he does uncoil two clear tubes—the ones you saw attached to Kendou, and connects them to the smaller ones that sit right over your nipples.

I’ve never been pregnant… you won’t be able to get anything from me, you try, knowing damn well that pregnancy isn’t the only way to induce lactation.

I’m sure we’ll get plenty, Kat thinks with a huff.

You feel the machine initiate a light suction that makes you bite your lip, and when Kat walks around you to take up his place between your legs, you can see the smirk on his face.

A new set of tools is brought out this time, similar balls and speculum but other items that vary in size. They look very similar to a certain kind of toy you used to pleasure yourself with at home, except you never tried to use anything as big as some of these. Two of the oblong shapes look doable, but after that they start to get… intimidating.

You tense at the first touch, fingers tracing up and down your folds.

You either relax now or I make you, he tells you. Threatens you, more like.

You don’t doubt him. He learned how to unravel you last time, and judging by the way his finger lightly circles your clit, he retained all that information.

He teases for a little while, speaking to his comrades in their native tongue. Part of you wishes you could understand what he’s saying while another part is glad you can’t. Who knows what he’s telling them about you and your pussy?

You want to cry when you feel yourself throb, know that Kat can feel your wetness when he pushes a finger into your heat.

Like I told you… relaxed. He must be referring to the way your legs stop trembling.

It doesn’t feel good, doesn’t feel good, you repeat more to yourself than to him. Natural reaction, biological response. You need these reminders. You need to know that it isn’t the alien who’s making your skin hot, making you want more.

Kat adds another finger, scissors them, pulls out only to stretch your hole with different digits. He grunts something and you hear heavy footsteps, the other two creatures coming closer in order to watch, to look inside of you.

You clench your muscles as if it’ll do anything to hide your intimacy, but all it does is make the first bit of slick leak out of you. All three aliens make curious noises, something more appreciative coming from Kat when he rubs a finger through your folds, gathering the liquid.

To your horror, he raises his finger to his face to sniff it, examining it for a moment before poking his forked tongue out and licking it.

Deku and Kiri are suddenly shouting at him in alarm. Maybe they think it’s poison, a defense mechanism. That’s an amusing idea.

Taste good, Kat thinks, and you’re horrified at the pleasure that rolls through you. You don’t want him to enjoy the taste. Fuck, what if it makes him want to eat you?

I just might. His mouth is lifted up on one side, the edge of a fang poking out.

He uses the speculum first, stretching you slowly, so slowly, until your hole is opened wide enough for him to slide one of the long shapes inside of you. There’s even room to spare, prompting him to switch the tool for a bigger one. You feel the speculum against your walls rather than the insert, but that changes when Kat removes both to replace them with the next size up.

You moan, eyes squeezed shut. This is all I can take, you think to yourself. I can’t fit anything bigger.

Yeah, you can.

Kat moves the tool in and out of you, fucking you with it as your noises rise in volume and pitch. Oh, it feels good. It feels too good, and it only gets better when he flicks your clit. Your arousal streams down your folds and ass followed by squirt when Kat begins moving faster.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” It comes out as a whisper. You don’t want any of them to hear. Not that it matters since they—or at least Kat—knows what you’re thinking.

Another, girthier tool (at this point you feel they’re more like toys) takes the other’s place, and tears prick your eyes as you feel your flesh stretch even more. You have no idea how wide your hole is at this point, but you do know you’ve never had something this big inside of you. You also know you’ve never experienced the sensation you’re feeling in your tits.

Kat has enough understanding to go slowly, keep working your muscles and not just shove into you. You’re embarrassingly wet, letting the toy slide in and out of you with ease, and soon you’re even trying to buck into it.

You’re close to an orgasm. You can feel it building inside of you. And then it disappears when Kat stops pumping, leaving the tool inside of you and watching as you whimper and clench around it.

Push it out, he commands. I wanna see your cunt work.

You whine out loud and sniffle, unable to mask your shameful thought: but I don’t want it out of me.

Push it out and I’ll make you cum.

Bearing down as best you can, you groan and push, again feeling how large the object is as it slowly slides out of you. When it falls between your legs you let out a sob, inhaling raggedly when Kat touches you again. Fingers delve inside of you but it’s only to open you up. No part of his hands are touching, and though you can’t see what he sees, you know you must be stretched obscenely wide.

The three aliens peer into your guts, and you’ve never felt more exposed. You’re morbidly curious at your state, what Kat has done to your pussy, and in a silent answer to your question he releases your folds and begins pushing fingers into you. Two… three… four… oh god, five… and you take another without issue. You must be gaping, loose enough to—Christ, he starts fisting you. His whole hand is inside of you, making squirt splash out of your cunt. The way your body greedily takes what he’s giving you is absurd, and the way it makes you climb closer to your peak is even more so.

Wanna feel you clench around me. Can you do that?

You nod, back arching. He’s literally bruising your insides, and you’re loving it.

When you cum, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. Your hole opens wider as if begging for Kat to push further, and a geyser of fluid sprays from between your legs. At the same time, you feel a tightness in your nipples as milk is pushed from them. Your jaw drops open in awe as you watch the white droplets get sucked up the tubing attached to you. He was right. It actually worked.

Could play with your cunt all day, Kat thinks as you take a shuddering breath. I think I might.

You feel weak as you raise your head to look at him, your face sticky with drying tears. I don’t…

He wiggles his fingers inside of you, cutting off any argument you thought you had.

There’s no way to tell how long he’s there with you, long enough for Kiri and Deku to grow bored and leave, but Kat stays, making you cum again. And again. And again.

The table is drenched and so are you and so is he, your juices dripping down his chest and into his lap. You cry and beg him to stop, so lightheaded, so sore. Every orgasm is paired with lactation. The first couple climaxes only produce drops at a time, but eventually you’re spewing enough milk to coat the tubes. All you want to do is hold your tender breasts, cover your nipples and soothe them, but it’s not an option. Instead Kat just keeps making you cum, keeps milking you, until all that’s left for you to do is pass out.

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #tw dark content #tw noncon

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levihantrash · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Got a prompt for you if you're interested (feel free to write a drabble, a one-shot, or a multi-chap): Levihan, "One more chance." Open to interpretation. Thanks, and good luck! :)

okay so i decided to combine this prompt together with my headcanon for that levihan ring merch for a canon setting one-shot!

One More Chance

"What do you think of rings?" Hange asks Levi out of the blue, in the little room that could suffice as an office for his unofficial position as second in command.

"Why?" Levi knows that Hauge doesn't ask questions out of the blue without motives.

They could be random, absurd, silly, but there was always a reason behind their questions.

Hange plants one elbow on the table, bent forward in anticipation for Levi's answer. His eyes catch the glint of Hange's bolo tie as it swung back and forth.

Jewellery? Vanity aside, Hange knows better than Levi how expensive it is to obtain warm clothing and food, much less a bunch of shiny rocks. They spent days mulling over the Survey Corps’ budget, where to allocate resources, how to seek funding, and to keep expenses humane but tight.

“Why?” He repeats, unsure as to whether to sneak in a crass joke as Hange’s eyes were shining—in a different tone compared to the bright-eyedness that showed whenever they made a new discovery. It was, what was it? Nostalgia? Levi is certain that Hange had never, of ten years being by their side, even hinted at a desire for a ring, for whatever reason they might yearn for the object.

Hange knows Levi is perturbed—suspicious, even. They know that such an ambiguously-worded question, simple as it was, will not warrant a straightforward answer from Levi. He is far too observant to not think of Hange’s line of questioning as uncharacteristic from the usual. The usual Hange will elaborate; they will give details. Perhaps this is a ring made from a special sort of metal to go undetected from metal sensors to sneak past the enemy and pass on valuable information etched in code on the inside, for example. Whatever reason that prompted Hange to take a sudden interest in rings wasn’t for battle, or for moral good, which frankly, is more embarrassing for them.

“Do you keep those patches with you?” Hange changes the topic. Levi blinks, then turns to the drawer and pulls the handle. The open drawer speaks for itself; filled with rows and rows of haphazardly torn patches of the Survey Corp’s uniform, the emblem of the wings of freedom.

“You keep it here, huh…” Hange muses, touching one patch tenderly, feeling the crusted blood stain at the tip of their finger.

“Do you remember who each patch belongs to?”

Levi shakes his head, not defending the lack of differentiation between the patches. To him, each patch is louder than a name attached to it. A fellow soldier whose heart he carried on within him.

“If I die, Levi, will you bring back my patch?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Levi is quick to retort, sounding mildly irritated that Hange brought up the possibility of death.

“We all die someday.”

“We should think about how to stay alive,” Levi says firmly. “And what does any of this have to do with rings?”

Hange laughs, patting Levi on the shoulder affectionately. “You won’t let that go, huh?”

“It seems important,” Levi says, disgruntled. “You’re not usually so hesitant.”

“It’s not.” Hange waves their hands defensively, straightening up to avoid Levi’s gaze.

“What’s that in your pocket? Your hand keeps touching it.” Levi is sharp as ever, Hange thinks, itching to back out and tend to more important commander duties.

“Maybe next time! I have to go!” Hange brisk-walks out of the office, leaving Levi in the dust. He has the immediate urge to follow them, to grab their arm and ask what’s wrong, to force some kind of coherent understanding to this muddled conversation. Yet, he continues sitting on the chair, wondering if their mutual awkwardness had swept past them in the form of a lost opportunity. The patches flutter a little in the wind, as though asking him, what are you so afraid of?

He closes the drawer and sinks back onto the creaky, wooden chair, waiting for Hange to come back.

The next time he sees them again is when he’s so battered that his back trembles at the prospect of sitting on another hard surface. The series of negotiations, arguments, plans, fly past him in a whirlwind of decisions led by Hange. He occasionally spots the bulge in their side pocket, but his head is spinning with a million of other more dire worries to figure out what the hell is this unresolved mystery from months ago.

One night, as Hange tends to the bandages around his head, traces the stiches on his face, and mumbles quiet nothings about how they’re glad he’s alive, he finally lifts a shaky hand to point at the bulging pocket.

“Are you going to tell me what’s in that?”

“Nothing that will help us stop this mess,” Hange says, sweeping some of the fringe off his forehead to wipe the sweat underneath.

“But it’s important to you,” he states. Hange nods slowly.

“And you want to show it to me.” He tries, unaccustomed to the presumptuousness of his claim. But there is little time. If there was ever time before, now they were running on thin, cracked lines of time, teetering over the edge.

Hange sighs, and stuffs a reluctant hand into their pocket to bring out a small box.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t use the Scouts’ funds.”

“The Survey Corps doesn’t exist anymore,” Levi reminds them, to distract his mind from speculating endlessly about what’s in the box. He wants to sit up. Physically straining himself feels unwise, so he settles with tilting his head to get a clearer view of both Hange and the box.

Hange carefully holds his shoulders to sit him up, leaning him against them.

“I got rings for us.”

“Huh?”

The box is opened, and inside were two shining rings in silver and gold. Purple embellishment on the gold and green on silver. Not to mention it was heart-shaped rings. Levi feels his cheeks getting warmer by the second by its blatant implications, and is thankful that the bandages literally covered half his face.

“I know, I told them not to make it heart-shaped but you know when Reeves knew it was for you he said I had to make it obvious, whatever that meant,” Hange says quickly, snapping the box shut so as to save themselves from having to confront what was glaring at them.

“It’s not practical for fighting,” Levi murmurs, reaching out to take the box from Hange.

“Dedicate your hearts… wasn’t that what Erwin said?” Hange, always the one to inject light humour in tense situations, decides it will be alright to quote Erwin’s war cry in what is essentially a confession.

“Right.” Levi opens the box, looking expectantly at Hange.

“What?”

“Rings are for wearing, right?”

“You said they weren’t practical!”

“We’re not fighting now.”

Running their hands through their hair, Hange looks rather sheepish. “It’s a bit selfish but I just want to be remembered. As more than a patch.”

Levi frowns, bandages crinkling. “You think I’ll forget you?”

“I don’t know.”

“I won’t forget you. Ring or no ring.”

Upon hearing the seriousness of Levi’s voice, the light-heartedness returns to Hange, as they cheekily present the ring to them.

“Well then, will you dedicate your heart to me, shitty Captain?”

“Whatever, Four-eyes.” He says it as flippantly as he can, yet handles the ring like sudden movement will break it.

“Hah! I wonder what the kids will say about the rings…” Hange stretches out and lays beside Levi, admiring the ring on their hand amidst the backdrop of night stars. He takes their hand and weaves his fingers through it, placing their interlocked hands on his chest.

After the plane takes off, Levi’s eyes are trained on the floor. The plane rattles, swerves, and gains momentum. Everyone around him is emotional—rightly so, because their leader had said a fleeting goodbye before leaping to their death. He holds one hand in the other, feeling the cold metal on his finger. Rings don’t leave the smell of Hange’s skin when they lie their head on his shoulder after a long day. Rings don’t capture the sound of Hange’s laugh when they make friendly banter with their juniors, or when Levi makes the occasional, dry joke that only they pick up on. Rings don’t emulate the dialogue of their late-night discussions in his office, the tea that he makes and that they drink from the same cup—to save the time needed for washing, according to Hange. He doesn’t protest.

Still, the ring is all he has left. The one chance Hange had, they entrusted in him this ring. They could translate Levi’s words into more palpable versions for other people, but they could not for the life of them come up with words to express their more vulnerable feelings. For Hange, the ring was another chance to cement what remained unspoken: I hope you remember me. I’m here with you.

The last chance Levi had, he placed a fist on their heart.

“Dedicate your heart.” The ring flashes in the sunlight, making Hange blink back tears.

Now, he clutches one hand in the other.

“See you, Hange.” The ring stares back, patiently. He closes his eyes, bringing the thin, metal sentiment to his lips.

“Keep watching us.”

thank you for the prompt @djmarinizelablog !! ^_^

#aot #levihan #rings #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #fanfiction #my writing #hanji zoe #shingeki no kyojin #prompt #how many times can i use these same three lines from chapter 132 #yes i admit merch has inspired my writing what can i say #tbh a heart shaped ring irl sounds hard to wear XD

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amor-immortalem · 4 years ago

Text

Replaced part 2

Part 1

Genre: angst. Angst with a happy ending, fluff

A/N: The 2nd part in the replaced!mc au that I wrote a couple days ago. Enjoy! Its super long: 9 1/2 pages long with a 4.6k word count.

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

Blinding lights cloud Arella’s vision as she wakes. Her head turns to the side as she blinks, seeing nothing but a white vastness. Where was she? The human pushes herself up as someone calls out to her, a woman- no she’s an angel, Arella is sure of it from the way an ethereal glow seems to emanate from her form. She takes a moment to look over the angel in front of her.

Tan, freckled skin, black hair weaved with golden strands that ended at the middle of her back in soft curls, vibrant sea-green eyes- Arella thinks she’s the most beautiful thing to have ever existed. Her dress and wings are a pristine white save for the singe marks along the outer layers of her wings’ feathers and the bottom of her dress and the arrow that pierces through the center of her chest. It doesn’t take the human long to figure out who the angel standing in front of her is.

“Lilith...”

The angel only smiles sadly at her descendant. She crouches down next to Arella, brushing her curly black hair away from her face and the tears come forth almost instantly.

“They left me...” Arella’s voice is small. “They didn’t love me anymore.”

“But they do... And they always will.” The angel pulls her into an embrace as she speaks softly. “My brothers have always taken things for granted. It’s only once they’ve lost something important to them that they realize it’s worth.”

“What do I do next? What happens now?”

“Go back to them. Not as a human, but a demon.”

“How- !?” A terrible burning engulfs Arella’s body and suddenly she’s falling. Falling down, down, down, until the bright white light and Lilith disappear from view. Her skin- it feels like its burning away as she plunges deeper.

The next thing she knows, Arella is gasping for breath as air rushes into her lungs and the smell of Mammon’s cologne invades her sense of smell, his hold nearly crushing as he cradles her closer to his chest. She can hear Diavolo speaking but his words are garbled- a jumbled mess of word salad drowned out by the fire scorching her skin from the inside out. The way her entire body hurts is all she can think about as she succumbs to the comforting darkness of sleep.

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

When she wakes, its two days later. Everything feels sharper. Her sight is better than it’s ever been. She can hear the crows cawing from the aviary on the other side of the house. She can even smell the individual scents of the brothers who were still up in their rooms and...

“You’re awake?” Melissa’s soft voice makes Arella recoil. Even as a whisper, it sounds like she’s screaming at Arella. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your ears.”

“It’s... Please... Just let me have a few moments...”

Melissa nods and just sits quietly beside the newly awakened demon. It takes a few moments to get a hold of herself and get her newly sharpened senses in check but Arella manages to push herself into a sitting position.

“Would you like to talk?” The blonde asks softly, “I feel like we should clear up a misunderstanding...”

“What’s there to misunderstand?” Arella asks. “It seems pretty cut and dry to me... they chose you and cast me aside like a broken toy that had lost its novelty.”

“I’m sure it felt like that. And it's my fault, that much I’ll agree to. I should have never asked them to help me land a date with Satan... this wouldn’t have happened, right? I can understand if you despise me.”

Arella laughs at that. She doesn’t know why but despite being mad at six out of the seven brothers for not communicating this to her, it was entertaining to her. Was that all it was? Was all of this caused by something so simple as that? Arella knew her boys often had a one-track mind but this was so ridiculous, both on her part and theirs. She rolled off the bed as she laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks as her demon form manifested itself for the first time. Melissa only peered over the side of the bed at Arella, a worried look in her brown eyes as the laughter died down and the former human climbed back up on the bed.

“Are you... angry? With me?”

“Not with you but-” They were interrupted by the sound of three sets footsteps thumping down the hall above her head and before she knew it, Arella found herself back on the floor but this time pinned under Mammon who’s holding on to her with all of his strength as two of his brothers stood in the doorway having gotten there too late to stop him.

“Hey, Dumbass,” It’s Levi’s voice that she hears as he draws closer, “You’re going to crush her crashing into her full force like that!” The purple-haired demon tried to pull his brother away receiving a feral growl in response.

“Mammon, stop! Right now.” Arella tries to use their pact to enforce the order but.... It’s not there anymore. The Avatar of Greed only holds her tighter to him. There was nothing that would separate him from his mate- not after the way he was this close to losing her.

At some point by working together, Beel and Levi were able to pry the white-haired demon off of Arella and she sat up. That’s right... she had died so she no longer held pacts with the seven brothers. But if she had died, why was she here? Ignoring the chaos happening around her between the three brothers, she looked into the floor length mirror and softly gasped at her appearance.

A set of fluffy, feathered, black wings adorned her back while a set of horns jutted out from her head in a way that was not too dissimilar from Belphegor’s. She had black markings that framed the side of her face and reached out to just under her eyes and a crescent shaped one on her forehead. The newly turned demon only squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She’s supposed to be dead! Why still breathing and why does she have a demonic form all of a sudden?!

As Mammon and his brothers continued to squabble over Arella, she curled in on herself, holding her hands over her ears. “All of you, just SHUT UP!” Sobs shook her body as the other demons turned their attention to her. Their voices were too loud and her ears were still too sensitive to loud sounds to the point if felt like the sensory overload was going to make her head explode.

“’Rella... I...” The Avatar of Greed, now free of Beel and Levi’s hold, reaches out to place his hand on her shoulder but is stopped when one of her wings slaps his hand away.

“Get out! All three of you... you... you should have just let me die like I wanted...”

And it's with that that the three Avatars look between each other before slowly leaving. Once the boys had gone, Melissa slowly moved over to Arella’s place on the floor, wrapping her arms around the other female as she comforted her.

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

It’s nearly midnight now as the Avatars sit in silence in the common room. They had met to discuss a way to reforge the bond they had shared with the human-now-turned-demon, but no words had been said. They all knew who should be the first of them to do this but it was the how. How did they even begin to approach her at this point? Mammon was for having no plan at all, just playing the situation by ear. It’s not like she could overpower him in anyway. What’s the worst she could do? Kick him in the shins? Not something he hadn’t survived already.

“Well, since none of ya still have a plan yet- and it doesn’t look like any of ya are gonna come up with one soon- I'm going ta see her.” The white-haired demon stands and starts to make his way toward her room with no objections from his brothers as there was no other alternative they could offer him. He knows what she’s feeling- like she was abandoned, unloved. As her mate he wanted to fix all that- that was his responsibility. His brothers could make up with her later but he needed to do this right now. He was her first after all, he needed to be the first to talk to her.

As he opened her bedroom door, Melissa was leaving at the same time.

“So, you’re back... good I was just coming to find you. I tried to explain everything but I don’t think it worked and she still seems convinced you don’t love her anymore... Obviously this is something only you can fix so I’ll just leave you two to it. Also... I think she needs help changing back out of her demon form... she keeps knocking things over with her wings and getting agitated.”

The blonde gives her friend a pat on the arm as she headed off to find the others.

Slowly, Mammon entered her room. At the sound, the feathers on Arella’s wings puffed up, the wings herself raising to make herself more intimidating to him and he has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at how ridiculous she looks like that. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“Put yer wings down, baby. Ya don’t scare me. I wanna talk to you.”

“Well, that’s funny. I don’t want to talk to you,” Arella growled. “You made your choice and it didn’t include me.” She crossed her arms as she turned her back to him. It was cute in a way.

“Then how ‘bout I jus’ do the talkin’ then? Will ya just’ listen?” He offered her a deal, watching as her wings drooped slightly and he knew he had her. Even as a demon, Arella was incapable of not lending a listening ear when asked for it.

“Fine,” She huffed. “You won’t leave until you say whatever you want too anyway but I don’t care about whatever lies you have for me. I already know the truth.”

“Sure, whatever ya say, doll.” He moved to sit on her bed, goading her into talking to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?!” She stomped over to him a pout on her face. “I’ll have you know, I’m very angry with you. You-!”

Mammon cut her off with a kiss as he pulled her down on the bed with him. The surprise was enough to shock her out of demon form as she wrapped her arms around his neck. When he pulled away, he held her gaze with his.

“I’m sorry for not bein’ there for ya... I messed up- alla us did and we’re so sorry but don’t think for a second that I don’t love ya. Ya mean the world ta me.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it, you infuriating demon. I heard the two of you flirting in the dining room that one night... You didn’t even ask her to stop.”

“Yeah, it sure probably sounded like that, didn’t it? We weren’t flirting with each other. Melissa asked me to help her practice her pick-up lines for Satan. She ain’t interested in me and I made it clear I wasn’t lookin’ for it if she was ‘cuz I had you.” he poked a finger at the center of her chest.

“But... but... You didn’t say anything. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped too.”

“’Cuz I’m a idiot and it never occurred to me what kinda impression you’d get from it. C’mon, Treasure, this ain’t news.” He tries to flash her a smile. “’N before I knew it, almost a year had passed... I felt really guilty and tried ta call ya... but you’d already made up yer mind... Ya got me good, kid. I learned my lesson the hard way...”

Arella frowned as she watched his eyes for any sign of a lie. “How am I still alive? How did I suddenly become a demon...? I carved that long gash up my arm deep for a reason.”

“We gave ya my blood... jus’ a small amount but it did the trick. We turned ya and ya healed up immediately.” He pressed their foreheads together. “None of us know what we’d do without ya. And the fact that we almost lost ya two days ago scares us... We’ll make it up to you somehow. Even if it takes thousands of years.”

“You, specifically, can start tonight. Do you know how many date nights or movie nights you’ve missed? How much I’ve missed just having you in bed with me? I’m not letting you go for the rest of the night!” Arella hugs him closer to her. “That’s what you can do start making it up to me.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Babydoll, but we’re gonna sleep in my room. Ya don’t need this room anymore.” he hums as he shifts his arms under her and lifts her up, carrying her up to his room for the night.

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

The pair sleeps so late into the next morning that they end up missing breakfast. By time they come remotely close to even wanting to roll out of bed, Levi is already banging on Mammon’s door.

“It's noon already, guys! Get your butts out of bed! You’ve had Arella too long! Stop being greedy with her.” It's not the Avatar of Envy’s typical wakeup call but desperate times call for desperate measures. He had a whole stock pile of games he was dying to play but was saving the initial play through to be with Arella and he couldn’t take it anymore. Unlike Melissa, she was actually in to all the niche horror games that were supposed to come out over the past year.

“What’s he ramblin’ about now?” The Avatar of Greed looks up at his door before letting his head fall back on the pillow as he groaned. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Then you can stay in bed.” Arella presses a kiss to his cheek before rolling away from his grasp. “I think your brother is only interested in me anyway considering he’s not saying anything about the money you owe him.

“But I don’t want you ta go,” The demon gives his mate the biggest puppy dog eyes in an attempt to get her to come back to bed with him. “Levi’ll keep ya all day.”

“And you’ll have me all night. I promise. Besides, I missed hanging out with him.” She turns to the door. “I’ll be there shortly, Levi!”

“Fiiiiiiiinnnnnneeeeee,” Mammon groans, sulking just a little bit and Arella laughs at his reaction.

“Oh? Is that a hint of sulking I detect coming from you?” Her tone is teasing, “You- the demon who’s been ghosting me for the past eleven months to the point where I thought you weren’t interested in our relationship anymore- is sulking because I’m going to end up spending the rest of one day with your little brother? I’m starting to detect double standards here, my dear.”

“Oh, shaddup,” He chucked a pillow at her head as they both laughed. “Just go and get dressed.”

“I will,” She made a ‘hmph’ like sound before running off to change out of her pajamas. “I’m stealing one of your flannels by the way.” She informs him as she walks out of the walk-in closet fully dressed.

“The hell you are!” He scrambles out of bed and chases her down as she leaps up the stairs and makes a break for it down the hall toward Levi’s room. As she runs, Arella thinks maybe being a demon has its perks after all.

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

“So what games are we playing first?” Arella makes herself comfortable on the floor next to the third born.

“It's another time loop horror game where if you don’t solve the mystery before times up your character has a permadeath and you have to go through everything again with the suspect being a new person each time. I promise this time it won’t affect us... Maybe.”

Arella laughs at that, remembering back to that time where they had to ferret out someone’s wish before the time loop reset. “Let’s just hope for your sake it doesn’t. I dread to see what Lucifer might do to you.”

“Yeah,” the purple-haired demon smiles as they begin the game.

After a couple hours of the two demons playing niche horror games, they took a bit of a break.

“I missed days like this... The days where we’d binge anime or play games.... I wish I hadn’t gotten forced into helping the others... Initially, I wasn’t going to since we already have one couple doing gross normie things. We didn’t need another.”

Arella laughs at that. “So, who was it that twisted your arm into helping?”

“Asmo bullied me into it. They were so relentless about it that I just got fed up and caved.”

“You know what, that tracks.”

“I really am sorry... You don’t hate me, do you?”

Her eyes widen at that. “No, Levi. I don’t hate you and I don’t think I can. You know I’ve never been one to hold grudges- especially with the seven of you. I always seem to forgive you guys eventually... And it seems like you all feel remorse for what happened so there’s no need to stay mad at any of you...”

“You know... Lucifer cried for you... when he and Mammon brought your body back to us two days ago... he was crying- they both were... And that’s when we really realized what we had done to you... that you were gone.”

“But I’m back now,” the demon says softly. “And this time, you guys won’t be getting rid of me. I’ll be around for the rest of your lives and I can’t think of a better way to spend it. Now, let’s get back to the game. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

Levi only nods in return as he turns back to the tv.

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

“Arella!” Asmo links their arm with hers as they drag Arella off to their room. “How’re you feeling now? Better?”

“Uh... Yeah, thanks for asking. Where are we going?”

“My room, of course! We’re going to have a little bit of a spa day. No offense, but your skin looks absolutely trashed. Plus, now that you have a demon form, I can show you all the best oils and polishes that I use on my horns and I heard from Beel that you have the prettiest black wings that are just like Lucifer’s- okay, the pretty part I added on but still! I know some inexpensive, but quality oils to use when you preen them that’ll keep them looking pristine at all times.”

“Thank you, Asmo, I appreciate it.”

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

As the pair sat on the floor in the Avatar of Lust’s room, face masks in place, Asmo pulled out their endless collection of nail polish. They took one of Arella’s hands in theirs as they thought about what colors would work best for her that wasn’t already used for their brothers.

“How would you feel about a magenta? Or maybe- no, Lord Diavolo’s nails are black so it would be a repeat... Oh, oh what about that glittery gold that you like when we pair it with a black base? I bet you’d look good with rose gold nails too.”

“What about black with a gold design? It would be a bit different wouldn’t it plus I can’t remember anyone having designs on their nails. Aside from when you do nail art on yourself.”

“That’s genius! Why didn’t I think of that? Anyway, let’s get started.” The demon sets to work on her nails, letting out a satisfied hum once the first layer is done. While they waited for it to dry, Asmo pulled out some issues of DevilStyle for them to read. Some of their outfits had been featured in the latest issue and since some of them had been ones Arella had helped them refine months ago, they wanted her to see how their hard work paid off.

“They look amazing, Asmo.” She smiles as her eyes shine. “Is that the one we worked on together?”

They nodded. “Mhm. Mammon even modeled one of them. That one specifically, I tailored to him myself so it would look its best.”

“Can I see it? How long ago did he do this shoot?”

“Three months ago.” They turned to the centerfold. “He looked fantastic in it.”

“That he does- but then again when doesn’t he?”

“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re biased.”

“Mmm, you’re not wrong.” and they both laughed softly at that. “So... I heard you were the mastermind behind trying to get Melissa and Satan together?”

“Yeah... It took forever too. I only thought it would take a few weeks since he’s my brother and I should know his tastes better than anyone but almost eleven months? It feels like a failure to my matchmaking skills.”

��So that’s why you were always busy with Melissa, huh? At least it worked right?”

“Thank the stars it did. But I was starting to think that it would never happen. Sorry we didn’t include you in the planning- we really should have... I really caused you a lot of pain, didn’t I?”

Arella nodded. “It hurt a lot thinking you guys had grown bored of me. Especially with Melissa being so much more than I ever could be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at me...” Arella makes an up and down motion with her hands. “She’s gorgeous. Long legs, blonde hair with pretty brown eyes that bring you in, skinny but not sickly looking. Right off the bat, she looked like she belonged here with you guys. And then you have me who regularly looks like a hot mess. I’m scrawny, far too skinny and I look like a midget standing next to any one of you. I guess for as much as I seem to fit in with you all, there’s always been a part of me that hasn’t. And I guess, once Melissa got here, it felt more prominent. Your little plan which took up everyone’s free time didn’t help.”

“I’m sowwy.... You’ll forgive me, right?” Asmo gave her the puppy dog eyes.

“What do you think, hmm?”

The Avatar of Lust threw their arms around her- careful of their face masks. “I knew you would. C’mon it’s time to get these face masks off.” They offered their hand to Arella as they went to go wash their faces off.

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

Arella admired her freshly painted nails as she walked down the hall. Unbeknownst to her, she was being stalked by a certain white-haired demon. He was quiet, sneaking up on her before he grabbed her.

“Gotcha!” He laughed as she let out a small squeak. “You’re mine now. C’mon, we’re goin’ out.”

“Out? Out where?” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“A date, obviously. Told ya I was gonna make it up to ya for missin’ all them date nights...” he smiled as he set her down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m not takin’ no for an answer.”

“Alright, Alright.” she hummed. “I wouldn’t tell The Great Mammon ‘no’ anyway.” She laced their fingers together. “So, where’re are you taking me, love.”

“It's a surprise, so I can’t tell ya.” And with that the pair made their way out on the first date they’d had in months.

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

As the days went on, Arella found herself being tugged in all different directions by the brothers. There were days where as soon as they got out of class, Beel was dragging her off to a new café that had opened up that week or Belphie was taking up the rest of her free time with multi-hour-long naps- something Mammon had some choice words about.

Satan and Arella would exchange books for light reading as they sat in the library together and discussed their favorites. Sometimes Melissa would join them too, just as ecstatic about the books she’d gotten from the both of them. Lucifer would leave her teas order specifically from the human world that she often enjoyed. They had even returned to their occasional late-night chats over the same teas.

At school, Luke would often cling to Arella- not caring that she was now a demon as to him she would always just be Arella, human or otherwise- while Simeon only observed them with slight amusement, only to pull the small angel away once they had to split up for classes. The older angel had taken to calling or texting almost nightly to check on her.

Solomon-bless his heart- had started hanging around more, making various dishes for her to try at lunch and asking for her opinions on them. Having never learned from her prior experiences with the sorcerer's cooking, Arella still ate them out of both curiosity and politeness. Now that she was a demon, for some reason Arella had actually come to appreciate and enjoy the meals Solomon would make for her. The pair even joked about Arella making a pact with him but it was just that: a joke.

Now that it was months later, Arella felt even more ridiculous about ever feeling unloved by the people in her life- something they had proven untrue with their actions. Even with Melissa staying with them for an extended period of time after what should have been the end of her exchange year, Arella never felt cast aside for the blonde again. The pair had even begun hanging out together on their own without the influence of their housemates- something that Arella had wanted since Melissa first gotten there.

“So, what would you like to do today, Melissa?” Arella asked as the two women walked down the street. “I know you’re getting close to your return to the human world... its only a few weeks off.”

“Yeah... I don’t even know where to begin.” The blonde sighed. “What did you do during the last few weeks before you left after the initial year here was up for you?”

“I spent most of my time hanging out with the boys. They were all really upset to see me go... Are you planning to come back at some point? And what about you and Satan? Are you two going to keep in touch? You’re very good for each other- like two peas in a pod.”

“We’re going to, yes.” She confirmed. “I’ll still have my D.D.D. when I go back so we’ll talk and video chat through there. I’m going to miss you all though. I’ve had so much fun over the past year and half and it's all thanks to you guys.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that.” The demon smiles. “No one here is going to forget you. Make sure you try to come back at some point. They guys and I would be very happy to have you back.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Melissa hums as they enter the arcade.

After that it seemed like life had gone back to a somewhat normal house hold just with one more added on. Everything was at peace now even with some of the days where Arella feels less than good about herself. But she always had one of her seven demons there to remind her just how precious she was to them. During those times, she couldn’t think of a more suiting way to enjoy the rest of her long life.

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

Part 3 (the bad ending)

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clarissalance · 4 years ago

Text

Wolves

Pairing: Kaeya x fem!Reader, Diluc, Crepus

Warning: minor swearing, cheesy flirt, dry humour

Summary: All men are wolves.

A/N: Muahaha I have came back and brought you the blatant cheesy flirt. Welcome to the first lesson of flirting with Kaeya. Lol, guess who is coming next?

Also, I’m planning to write a wind-trace fic because the game is so fun. (p/s: I waste 3 hours playing it) Guess who is in it?

Okay, the first fic for my lover boy. Please give Kaeya a lot of love!! (*￣3￣)╭

Another beautiful day, another day of wasting the lovely weather to stay inside the study room, bury your head into the pile of books next to you. You let your eyes wander to the window again, gazing rays of light fleeting through the window, golden hues on the wooden floor. Tiny specks of dust accumulate overnight, fluttering around the curtain. Outside, the chirping birds bathing under the sun, casually chilling on the window. Oh, how you wish you would be able to relax like those carefree animals.

“You might burn the birds crips the longer you stare at it.” Startled by the quiet voice, your head snaps toward the blue-haired teenage direction, and you can’t help but scowl at his statement. You can’t be the only person in the room who wants to go out and play. Knowing Kaeya, he’s definitely trying to find an excuse to end the class early.

The only person who is diligent, hard-working, and does not have thought about leaving this room is the young master Diluc. The young man is sitting opposite you, eyes burning holes on the thick textbook.

Archon, how can a 16 years old overly enthusiastic person like him enjoy the excitement of reading Descartes philosophy? Maybe he is the only child in Mondstadt, no, maybe in the whole Teyvat who enjoys something torturous like that. Shivering at your own thought, you shift your chair closer to Kaeya, giving Diluc a terror gaze.

“Aren’t you going to finish the essay?” Pointing at the half-full parchment on the table, you ask. “ Diluc and I already finish it.”

“ Oh, how do I know? How am I suppose to understand Kant and Descartes theories, and then link them to deductive and inductive reasoning?" Kaeya lets his finger running through the silky blue hair and pulls them out of frustration. On the other side, Diluc shoots him a glare, annoyed by his brother complaint.

“How did you guys do it?” Kaeya asks boredly, his finger pokes the quill.

You put your hand under your chin, beaming him charmingly. “ You know Kaeya, it is something I call improvisation. Words just flow out of my tip.” Under your lashes, you can see his cheek dusting pink. Cute!

“ Just read the books, and you will get it.” Diluc unhelpful adds.

Both of you stare at red-head incredulously. Is he being serious?

Like always, Kaeya knows he can not take your advice to heart. One is a genius, and the other is just pure luck.

Suddenly, the door is burst open, and you quickly shove your feet into the shoes, eyes darting to see the intruder. Internally, you hope that person is not lady Elizabeth, your etiquette teacher. Your blood runs cold at the thought. You can already imagine her sharp tones commenting how horrendous and un-ladylike your act is.

“How is your study going?” A deep, strong voice booming from the back, and finally, you get let out a breath. Diluc looks up from his book, beams brightly at the man.

“ We are done with homework, father. These are just extra reading.” Well, for the record, these are his extra readings, not yours. And Kaeya hasn’t finished his 2 feet scrolls of essay yet.

Master Crepus nods in satisfaction. “ If that is finished, you kids can take a break. The young lady from the Gunnhildr family is here with her father. Maybe you can give her some accompanies.” The middle-aged man directs the words at you, maybe feeling guilty for leaving a young lady like you in his two sons care.

Your parents left you in the Ragnvindr care every Summer because of their hectic schedules and frequent business trips at this time of the year. In addition, your mother says it is essential for you to have good relationships with the heir of Ragnvindr and his brother. “Maybe you will need their help someday.” She left it vaguely.

“ Are you guys going to drink again?” Kaeya suspiciously questions, his eyes glinting with playfulness.

“ Hey, what’s wrong with men having a drink together?” Crepus defensively retorts, notices how Diluc gives him a disproving gaze.

“ When you guys grow up, you would enjoy it too.” The three let out opposing noises, clearly not having the same idea as him. The man waves dismissively return back the topic.

“ Let’s come down to greet the head of Gunnhildr first.” He heads toward the door, down the hallway.

“And be nice to the young lady, boys.” The master emphasizes the phrase, his eyes pinning at the guilty-looking Kaeya and the absent-minded Diluc. Finally, he exits the room, not forgetting to close the door.

“ Father says as if we don’t treat people nicely.” Kaeya pouts, right after Crepus footstep drifting away from the study. “ The workers never complain anything about our behaviours, right Luc?”

Sitting next to him, you can't help but let out a snort. He dares to say that? Kaeya raises eyebrows at you, annoyed by your shaking shoulder. The boy in red has a blank face, maybe not interested.

“ First, you guys ignore me for 2 weeks when I just came here.” You burst out in laughter, recalling back at the very first memory when you just arrived here.

“When I tried to approach, you both avoided me like the plague.” Your whole body is shaking vigorously, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. This is too hilarious! Somewhere in between, you can spot Diluc burning cheek.

“ Haha, and haha-later,” You can hardly breath, laughter bubbling up. “Adeline told me your reason is ‘It's b-because she doesn’t have a willie.' ” Dramatically air-quoting, you even imitate their stuttering childish voices. This earns you a pointed glare from Diluc and a smack in the arm from Kaeya, but a good laugh is always worth it.

Both of them freeze on their tracks, faces puff red as tomatoes, steaming almost coming off their ears. If the young heir is to wear a red suit, you are sure he can blend in well with the mansion roof.

Diluc shifts stiffly in his chair and abruptly stands up, heading toward the exit. Maybe he is too embarrassed at the mention of his dark childhood.

“Where-haha, are you going, Luc?” You are still in the middle of your giggling, noticing how Diluc is dashing to the door. Letting out a coughing fit, he quietly mumbles.

“ I'm going down to greet the Gunnhildr family.” His figure vanishes right behind the door, not letting you tease him further. Outside, the painful sound of Diluc tripping on his own feet make you almost fall off your chair. You have too many good laughs today.

“Right, I-I should get going too.” Next to you, the blazing Kaeya remembers to dig a hole and hide. His hand slams hard on the table and the youthful teenager stands up, gracefully heading toward the door. Maybe he wants to avoid becoming another joke.

" Ah, wait-" You follow instantly, but the moment you stand up, something slips, and the next thing you know, the ground is shaking, and you see the ceiling is getting further.

Your first instinct is to grab the closest object, and then close your eyes, waiting for the painful impact with your head. Clench your jaw tightly, and you hold your breath, hoping it will hurt less if you tense your body.

Right after tensing up, you feel someone just grab you by your shoulder, and your feet step on something bumpy. And then, your head makes an impact with something hard. A grunting is followed.

Heart hammering in your chest, you cautiously peek, expecting yourself to see the ceiling, but instead, greet with an unusual sight. A pair of dark colour trouser paired with leather shoes. On top of it is your feet, loosely wore low heel is stepping on that leather shoes. Shit, you stepped on Kaeya. In a panic, you rush down from his painful sore feet, but your head jams in his ribs. He just let out another woeful sound.

This time, you carefully keep your position in place, slowly remove each foot one by one, moving away from him. Craning your neck upward, you finally meet his gaze, his eyes are full of concern and uneasiness, spooked out by your sudden incident.

“Did you hit your head hard?” Kaeya asks you nervously, his voice laced with anxiety. He must have been terrified when you slip. You shake your head, hands grabbing his shirt.

" I should be asking you that. Are you okay?" You give him a worrying gaze, your fingers running along his ribs, checking if your stone head broke anything. " I didn't break anything, right?" Hesitantly, you look into his deep blue eyes, noticing the diamond shape. Has he always has this in his eyes?

Kaeya snorts inelegantly, shakes his head. " Your head is hard as a rock, but that much can't break my ribs yet." This earns him a hit on his arm.

"Hey! I'm trying to be considerate, and this is how you treat me?" You jab him, hand purposely smack his chest, but he doesn't budge an inch. How strong is this guy? This time, you put all the force on your arm, slapping hard on his chest again. The young man in the blues shoot you a shit-eating grin, clearly not faze.

"How is my chest feeling?" He pokes, his palm engulfing yours.

" Too hard for my liking." You give him a complex look, trying to escape from his tight grip but fail miserably. You wiggle your hand again, shaking off his iron clad. Why is he so strong?

While you are attempting to flee from his firm grasp, the young man leans down, face an inch away from you. Flushing at the sudden closure, like usual, you avoid his burning gaze. You hold your breath when your noses almost touch. What is this rascal doing again?

" You shouldn't be touching men like that." Kaeya opens his mouth, saying something completely out of nowhere. You tilt your head in confusion, while your eyes travel down, you notice your hands still on his chest. O-oh, so he is saying about this.

" I don't normally touch random people." You mumble defensively, your eyes lower. " I was checking for your injury."

"They will misunderstand." Kaeya cuts in right after, not accepting the excuse. But why would they misunderstand? You are just being nice, right?

Like he can understand what is going inside your mind, Kaeya reminds you.

"All men are wolves, you should be more be careful with them."

You give him a confusing look.

Kaeya is not one of them, right?

Eventually, he let out a soft sigh and moves back, allowing you to savour your personal space. Just right after your throbbing heart finally calms down, he brings your tight-griped hand in his to his face. Your meet with his alluring look in his eyes. It is pulling you in, telling you to give in the temptation. Plump lips brush your knuckle teasingly, he blows a warm breath on the back of your hand. He gives you a saccharine smile.

" And if not be careful." His husky voice ringing in your ears, the numbing spark runs along your spine. "They might devour you."

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin impact #genshin x reader #all men are wolves #fluff #romance #implication #bad chilhood memory #willies #clarissalance #diluc ragnvindr #crepus ragnvindr #kaeya ragnvindr

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 4 years ago

Note

hello! how are you? i hope you're doing fine, um i'm here because i wanted to ask if you can write about armin falling in love with someone who's related to art, like a painter and suddenly discovering a whole new world. i will be so happy if you can do it.

thank you and please, stay healthy! 💗

Hi💛 of course! I really love that idea! Plus as a painter myself the struggle is real man, just yesterday i was having an overwhelming meltdown over what type of brushes to buy.

You seem really lovely so here's a mini fic! 🌸

Armin falling in love with a Painter!reader

{ Armin x reader | tw: none | fluff, pinning | modern }

{ "The Cathedral of Saint Jacques le Mineur, Liege" 1846 by Jenaro Pérez Villaamil 1807 - 1854 }

Reading is Armin's best friend, it always has been. It kept him company on countless sleepless nights as a child, and now it offered the escape his soul needed when overwhelmed with troubles of being a living human in this current world.

"It's just captivating," he explained to you one day while walking together, happily clutching the bags of books he just baught. You like how they smell. For someone who reads a lot, he surely seems to be out of words when it comes to describing things he's passionate about.

The winds picks up, your steps slow down. Armin is staring at your face, but it's not your eyes he's looking at. You smile and it brings him back to reality, he looks away, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

You offer to hold some of the heavy bags for him, he gives a warm smile. You think the faint color on his cheek is a really nice shade of pink, it looks lovely under the sun.

The more he took you with him on trips to the far away bookshop near the Riverside, the more you started to understand how a rearranging of words can pull him inside an entirely different world.

It was like he could be his true self when there, carefully reading the description at the back of the books. Frowning whenever he finds a review instead of a summary. you didn't mind tho, because it ment he'd have to read a few pages into the book and the shop had a nice corner couch you two would sit in.

He'd apologise for troubling you, you'd say he's never a bother for you that and reassure him that you enjoyed every last second.

Ah, there it is, that nice shade of pink again.

In some way he managed to share his love for books with you, as you spend entire afternoons just sitting near each other. Your sketchbook in hand, the sound of your pencil lightly scratching the paper. Him next to you, his book in hand and reading just loud enough for you to hear.

You think he has a nice voice, so you say it out loud. For the rest of the evening, he stuttered through half the book.

You laugh at the funny moments together, be it a clever joke the author weaved in a serious moment or an incredibly redundant cliche trope that while predictable, was still as enticing.

He would always look at you whenever you let a chuckle escape, staring just for a couple seconds longer than necessary.

That sketch ended up getting turned into a painting when Armin walked you home that day.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Blue glass shards are scattered on the table and floor, what remained of Armin's favourite mug. The puddle of coffee already sweeping into the canvas you left to dry there this morning.

It took you three days just for the layering.

It was a big canvas, cotton paper and natural wood. It cost a lot.

You know this feeling when you're so so broken about something that your brain just skips the denial and anger and jumps straight into depression? To say you were mad was an underestimated, and rightfully so.

Armin is trying to remove the coffee stains with the nearest towel he could find, it only smudges the paint more.

He looks terrfied.

"It was an accident I swear, I'd never..." his voice takes a higher pitch, hands shaking. "I'd never, ever mean to do this...I..." he hiccups, Voice quivering..

And just like that, all you anger fades away.

"Armin, hey" you take a step closer, carefully avoiding the broken glass.

He doesn't look at you, he's still desperate wiping the canvas. "I'll fix it, please I'll figure out a way."

The clutch he has on the towel only intensifies when you put your hand on his shoulder. "It's okay," you say "it's fine really, look at me."

And he does, with shame filled eyes. "No no no, it's not. I ruined it, your worked so hard on this and I just..." He looks down "it's NOT okay."

"Yes it is." You try to guide him away from the glass. "That's just a material object Armin, what's important is that you're okay."

He reluctantly follows, you both sit on the couch. His hands are clutching his knees. "I'm really sorry, it's okay if you want to yell at me you have the right to."

You cup his face in your hands, "don't say that, that's not true. It was an accident, I'd never ever yell at you."

Shock is clear in his eyes, his arms leave his knees to wrap around you, pulling you closer. His face buried in your shoulder. You stroke his back. Both of you stay like this for a long while, neither of you seems to want to let go.

At night, when he's getting ready to leave and go back home. You walk him to the door and he kisses your cheek as a goodbye.

the shade of pink you grew to love really goes along with his smile.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

With the sparkle in his blue eyes and his hands hiding something behind his back, how could you say no.

So you do, and you feel his hand brushing against yours before a light weight is dropped on your palms. He gives you the okay so you open your eyes, an envelope.

It's cream white with a straw ribbon around it, it looks too good to open but you do anyway.

"Is that..." his smile grows as you pull out the card and paper inside, "a membership card."

"For the art course you've been saving up for! You seemed really excited when talking about it." He takes a step closer, tilting his head to the side as his blond hair brush against his neck. "Do you like it?"

"Armin I love it!" You're so happy that you don't dwell on it before pulling him into a hug, he eagrly hugs back and his hand lingers on you when you pull away. "But...isn't it too expensive ? How did you.."

His lips press into a thin line as he looks to the side, "don't worry about it, I've been also saving for a different reason."

Oh...yeah you know the reason, Eren’s been telling it to everyone after all. The three of them agreed to go on a trip overseas, even Mikasa seemed genuinely excited.

You look at him, you look at the envelope containing the art course of your dreams, you put the card back inside.

"I can't, " you hold it out for him, "you can still return this, they're very lean with their policies."

He doesn't take it. "Yes, yes you can. This isn't just because I feel bad for what i did, it's because..." he holds your hand in his, "because I want you to have it, you deserve the world and if i can I'd give it to you."

"But what about Mikasa and Eren, you know they've been looking forward for this."

"They'll understand that i can't come, and if they don't it's okay, they'll still enjoy it by themselves." He cups your face, looking at you like you're the only person in the world, "It's just a material thing after all, you aren't."

Armin likes to get out of his comfort zone evey once in a while, he likes to try new things no matter how intimidating they look.

Which is why, seeing him hesitantly entering the art classroom was not a surprise. His wide eyes switching their focuses between all the different objects in the room, from the canvas with a glaze shine on them, ready to get painted. Or the different shapes and sizes or brushes, the ones near the water jars looking softer than the rest.

You should've seen this coming, with Eren and Mikasa away on their trip, Armin has been hanging around you all the time. Not that you're complaining.

Looking at your still drying canvas, you quickly cleaned off your brush before using a towel to wipe your hands and elbows from paint stains.

"Armin," you said, amusement in your voice at seeing the blond out of his usual element. His curious eyes focus on you and he says a small hi with a wave.

You walk him through the basics, he nods while you explain the pros and cons of each paint type, what type of paintings it goes with and which techniques are the most common.

After a couple minutes of him asking you to show him to use certain things and hold some brushes, he settles down for watercolors. You think it's adorably fitting.

While picking his brushes, you explain how in order to not damage the cotton papers, they have the softest hairs. To make your point, you take his arm in your hand and run a soft brush against his palm. He laughs softly saying it tickles, it's contagious and you're laughing too soon.

He picks the seat next to you, looking lost with the short brush in his hand and the already wet canvase. But it's a nice kind of lost, like the way a child would look at a new toy.

While he expriments at the corner of the canvas with different brushes and swipes the colors, other people start filling the room and soon enough everyone has taken their seats.

The instructer begans setting up today's study object, a couple of pink Camellias in a tinted turquoise vase, creating a nise color contrast.

You stare at them for a while, wondering where did you see that fimilar faint of pink. The question answers itself when Armin taps your shoulder and ask how to start layering the paint

It's around sunset when the two of you are walking together, he's talking about all the new things he never knew about art that he just discovered today. You're listening to him while nodding occasionally, it's when he stops mid-rant that you look at him.

"I just realised something" he says, before facing you.

"Oh? And what is it"

He looks at you, really looks at you. The sun is shining behind you as it says its last goodbyes for the day, making you look heavenly. "I realised that...I'm deeply in love with you"

#Armin #armin arlet x reader #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin arlert #armin reader #armin🕯#mini fic #fluff #painter!reader #i like this :)#pinning #friends to lovers?#aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader

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missskzbiased · 5 years ago

Text

The Hare and The Tortoise

Genre: Suggestive, Mature/Smut, Oneshot, A little bit of Fluff, NO PLOT

Pairing: Changbin x Reader x Han

Word Count: ~4,7K

Female lead

There is now a (Pt.2)

TW: Toy, Pet name (Love/Princess), Dom!Idol (?), Sub!Reader (?), Overstimulation, Slight Exhibitionism (?), Slight Dirty talking, Humiliation (?)

[I think it’s too “soft” so I’m not sure if I can actually make these warnings but anyway, better safe than sorry]

Notes: Well, it’s my second smut. I’m training it and I hope it turned out okay. Any feedback is more than welcomed!

////

The winter had already arrived but you would be coming at any moment now.

It should be an evening like any other, the three of you sitting down peacefully watching a random movie just so you could keep seeing each other, seriously taking on the mission of maintaining your companionship even after your college days.

You met Jisung and Changbin through your dear friend and partner in crime Chan, who was sure as hell you would like one of them and finally say goodbye to your holy days and claim one of them as your fuck buddy. He wasn’t wrong though, you liked both of them, and would love to be their fuck buddies but they didn’t seem to think like you, so you just let it go.

Until recently.

Jisung and Changbin were runners, and once in a while, you got the chance to support them in their races, just like last week. You could remember clearly how Changbin smiled seeing you all packed up on several layers of fabric, a huge coat thrown around your body, making you look ridiculous but warm enough for the winter. Although you were ridiculously unattractive in your mind, Changbin didn’t share your opinion and as he waited for Jisung to get out of the locker room, he pinned you against the wall, his eyes starving for you, and he kissed you hungrily.

You didn’t know what made him change his mind so suddenly but you didn’t mind either.

The past week could only be described as unholy… To say the least, you got quite familiar with his body, especially with his lower part which was pretty hard under your grip, if anyone cared at all. As the sly snake he was, he offered to take a bath first, since both of them always came after practice to your movie’s night, letting you and Jisung chatting in your living room, peacefully oblivious to his intentions. You weren’t sure if he told Jisung about whatever you had right now, so you didn’t mention either but the youngest seemed more awkward then usual, making you pretty sure he probably knew something was up.

You were wrong, though it’s a tale for later.

As soon as Changbin came out from his bath, he complained about the weather, whining about how the cold was freezing him up and shattering his bones, so when Jisung made his way to the bathroom, you picked up the blankets, two of them, since you wouldn’t be able to fit three people under one, and made your way to the couch. Changbin waited suspiciously, sat down, a pillow on his lap, and eyed you expectantly, his eyes following you until you sat next to him, handing him a blanket and resting the other one on the couch, for Jisung.

“Are you cold?” His tone was sickeningly sweet, raising your suspicious, as he covered himself, raising the hem of the blanket a little bit, asking silently for you to join him. You shrugged off your hesitation, picking up the blanket and snuggling with him before you threw the piece over your body, the warmth embracing you “Much better, isn’t it?” He asked, smirking.

You frowned, wondering what was his deal until you felt his hand sliding on your thigh, squeezing it too close to your heat, a silent possessiveness emanating from the tap of his fingers, that seemed to invest in bury on your flesh, unwavering. You looked at him shocked, your eyes shooting to the hall, checking if Jisung would be coming anytime soon, making him scoff.

“What? Do you prefer him?” His tone was bitter, and you couldn’t understand why. Was he crazy? It was obvious you were afraid to get caught! It would be incredibly awkward if Jisung just came into the room as Changbin’s fingers buried into you, sliding in and out… Curling on all your sweet spots just like they were doing all last week, always fast and deliciously edging you until you came hard… You gulped down, your mind hazed by your fantasies “Did I hit a spot?” He mocked, getting you out of your thoughts.

“I don’t want him to run into us while we fuck!” You hissed, his fingers caressed your thighs, making their way to the hem of your sweatpants, softly caressing your skin until they reached your clothed core, a featherlight touch teasing you, your hips responding to it by bucking themselves forward, trying to get more friction.

“Oh? You don’t seem too worried right now” His voice held a delighted mockery, his ego inflated by your hungry eyes burying into his, pleading “You’re lucky, though… I won’t fuck you, so you don’t need to worry about that” He reassured you, your stomach dropped, disappointed as his hand left your pants, the wetness you felt between your legs as a reminder of what you wouldn’t get tonight.

You never thanked God that much for being wrong.

His fingers hooked the hem of your sweatpants again but this time they pulled it down slightly, a silent request to get rid of it, one you complied eagerly by raising your hips and helping him lowering your pants until it reached your feet, getting rid of it quickly, stuffing it between the both of you. You looked at him expectantly, your eyes darting again to the hall, praying for Jisung being slow as usual at the bathroom, coming back to his eyes to witness the most lustful look he ever gave you.

“I would recommend you to keep your voice down, though, since you’re so worried about Jisung right now” He never spoke to you like this, teasing remarks that were meant to embarrass you but just aroused you even more, the hint of possessiveness turning you on. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by your arousal, though, feeling your throat dry as his fingers brushed over your underwear, getting it to the side and exposing your core under the blanket. You gulped down.

Unexpectedly, what came into contact with your flesh wasn’t his rough skin but a silicone texture shaped too different from his fingers. When you felt the tiny object sliding into you, glancing at his smirk evidently pleased with his plans, you shut your eyes and bit your lips to swallow down a yelp, praying you could hold your voice. You felt his body leaning closer to you, his lips hovering over your ear, his breath fanning over there as he held a comment back. Even though you weren’t looking, you could bet he looked smug as fuck, eye-fucking you, and just the thought of it made you squirm.

“Hm… Good girl, you’re taking it well so far” He praised, your hand found his legs, gripping it for support, afraid of what would come next, your head fell back to the headrest as you expected him to turn on the device “But we didn’t even start yet…” He mocked, he spoke as if he knew you would disappoint him, scream his name right under the same roof his best friend was, expose the both of you, and you couldn’t blame him.

You weren’t so sure you could hold back either.

He turned the lowest setting on, the sudden buzz made your body jolt and your eyes shoot open, glancing over his way, checking his features. He looked bored, even though you were sure he wasn’t. His bulge, too noticeable to your hand that rested on his thigh, said the exact opposite of his face, making you realize it would be a nice courtesy to touch him back, your hands sliding to his crotch slowly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked harshly, his eyes threatening you silently “Did I say you could touch me, Y/N? Did I ask you to touch me?” His tone was mean and established his dominance, you shrank on the couch, apologizing immediately “Hm… You’re already misbehaving…” He tsked, his eyes focusing on the TV, turning it on with his free hand and surfing through the channels.

“I’m sorry… I thought… I thought I could make you feel good too” He glanced over you, scoffing.

“Do you think I’m a whore like you?” He sneered, his eyes going back to the screen, paying no attention to your pleading eyes “No, I get it… You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?” This time his tone was loving, a small smile on his face, his hand stroke your hair gently before he sent you a reassuring look. You couldn’t ever get tired from his duality, how he could talk to you like you were nothing but a sex toy, and right after just treat you like you were the most precious treasure in the world? It shouldn’t make you so turned on but it did, and he knew it, his smirk gave him off.

“You can… You can put it higher if you want” You eyed him unsure, afraid he took your request in a negative way, wishing he wouldn’t punish you right now. You would never be able to hold your voice down if he punished you right now. He didn’t seem to mind though, finally choosing a channel, a dramatic movie that all of you had watched before displayed.

“I don’t think you understand, Love…” He feigned sympathy, looking at you with mock pity in his eyes “You’ll only cum when Jisung is sitting right there next to you” You widened your eyes, just the thought of it got your head spinning. How could you come beside Jisung like this? Your body didn’t seem to agree with your mind as your clenched around the toy while you pictured an oblivious Jisung beside you, watching the movie as you came on the couch.

“Please, don’t do it to me” Even to your ears your pleading seemed weak. It was more than obvious you were urging to keep this, and you made it clearer by sitting cross-legged, adjusting yourself so you could feel the vibrations better, deeper. Changbin scoffed, amused by your behavior, his hand dragged your right thigh, pulling it to his lap, keeping your legs spread apart. You let out a meek moan as he squeezed your flesh, his grip strong behind your knee, making sure you wouldn’t resume to your previous position, holding you still as you felt the tiny quivering inside you, your rolled your hips in response.

“You’re such a slut… I didn’t even do anything and you’re already like this” He cocked his brows, humming in appreciation as he felt your muscles twitch after his remark, his smirk widening as he heard the bathroom door creaking, slow steps coming to the living room “It’s showtime” He snorted as you tried to straight yourself on the couch, a neutral expression masking your flushed face.

“Oh, we’re watching it again?” Jisung asked, completely oblivious to what was happening under the blanket, he threw himself at the couch at the same time Changbin choose to finally higher the setting. You clasped your pants, the sudden shift on the couch as Jisung sank on his seat combined with Changbin’s grasp on your leg, and the increasing vibrations sent you to the edge. It wasn’t about the toy itself, it was about Han Jisung sitting right next to you as Changbin held you in your place, a silent promise of an incredible orgasm hitting your brain.

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” Changbin shrugged, handing him the controller “You can change it if you want, you lost half of the fun by being too slow” You rolled your eyes at his statement, the hidden meaning shared only by you two, but Changbin noticed your gesture and smile smugly, stretching your leg, your thigh on his lap and your foot on the couch, beside his hip, slightly out of the blanket.

You panicked.

What if Jisung saw the tip of your foot there?

The thought itself was enough for a small whine slip from your lips, you widened your eyes, shooting a look to Jisung, checking if he noticed anything, but he seemed contemplative, wondering if he should change the movie or not. He gave up in the end, covering himself and resting the controller between you two, focusing on the screen. You sighed in relief, averting your eyes to the movie, although you couldn’t really register anything, your mind too focused on the buzzing inside you, worried it was audible.

Changbin’s free hand traveled through your stretched thigh, caressing the soft flesh slowly, rubbing small circles through his path until the tip of his fingers found the drenched fabric of your underwear, hovering over it without really touching but close enough so you could feel his presence, his warmth. You gulped down. Your eyes darted to him and came back to the screen, your body stiffened, expecting his next actions.

His fingers slipped under the fabrics silently, his eyes didn’t hold a hint of what he was doing right now, focused on the movie like it was the most interesting thing in his world, and you found it endearing. How could he be so calm about this? You knew you were using all you had in yourself to not roll your hips like a bitch in heat, begging him to do you right now. Somehow, the thought of his composed self in contrast with your needy one aroused you even more, a weak taste of humiliation spreading in you, and although you felt it was wrong, this feeling made your mind numb, the urge to come just by that damn toy, so you could hear his mean remarks later, his smirk… The way he would look at you all smug, claiming you as his slut…

Your hand shot to his wrist, holding it so you could stop his motions, wishing to come untouched like the needy slut he claimed you to be. As soon as you reached his skin, you knew you had crossed the line. He clenched his jaw, eyes darkening, slowly coming to meet yours. You couldn’t see his loving features anymore, only a harsh expression that warned you, screamed you would have no mercy from now on.

Holy shit, what have you done?

You let go of his wrist immediately but it was already too late. He pressed his fingers against your folds, pushing the toy a little bit deeper before teasing your outer labia slowly, his eyes fixed on you for a moment, watching as you squirmed under his touch, satisfied as he saw tears prickling your eyes, your breath held on your chest in expectation. He didn’t lose much time on this, quickly smearing your juices up and down before resting his finger right on top of your clit.

You couldn’t hold a whine, your hand shot to your mouth, your body shivering under his touch.

“Hey, you’re being too loud” Changbin’s voice sounded clearly audible, his eyes mocked you, and you averted yours to Jisung, who was looking at you in confusion “Doesn’t her whine disturb you, Han?” Jisung looked at Changbin, shrugging.

“Not really… It’s a sad movie” He admitted, his thumb coming to wipe the corner of your eyes gently. You choked, startled by the touch, screaming inside your head as the realization of two different touches on you sank into your brain. One of them tried to soothe you and the other tried to punish you. You pushed your hand harder against your mouth, trying to muffle your cries, the constant vibrations started to get their way to your mind, impossible to ignore at this point.

“Hm… I think we should set it higher” Changbin stated cruelly, he squeezed your knee and rubbed a single circle on your clit, the small stimulation at your already sensitive nerves were enough to send you on edge. You couldn’t handle it right now, how would you handle it if he set it faster? Your mind went blank, you could feel your orgasm building up, a stiff knot emerging at your lower half.

“Set what higher?” Jisung asked confused, frowning at Changbin. You didn’t let him answer, taking your hand off of your mouth to look at the younger guy, trying to sound the most composed you could at the moment.

“T-The volume… Raise it a little bit so I can cry in peace” You managed to ask, your voice sounded weak and wavery but Han didn’t seem to mind it, assuming it was about the movie, just you’re being emotional as always “So Changbin can stop being a whiny bitch” As soon as you said it, you regretted it. What the fuck was that?! You couldn’t think straight, your mind too hazy and messy to organize your thoughts, mumbling anything that came to your brain without a filter. You heard Changbin scoff before he increased the setting, his finger flickering your clit quickly, without any mercy.

That was it, you couldn’t handle it anymore.

You felt the vibrations through all your body, his ministrations formed a string from your womb to your brain, several knots forming all the way up, the heat spreading all over your body, burning your chest, your neck, and your face and melting your brain. You felt the tears coming to your eyes, your heart racing, echoing into your head, vivid to your ears, your hand shot up to Jisung’s thigh, too close to his crotch, startling him. You could see through your blurry vision his mouth opening and closing, confused at your antics but aroused, you could feel it right next to your hand.

That was the last understandable thought that crossed your mind.

A particular flick of Changbin’s finger sent you on your high, all your knots unraveling in a chain, starting from your brain, letting all your mind blank, melting all your self-control away as you dug your nails on your friend’s thigh, his groan interrupted by your scream. You moaned loudly, startling the two boys, your mouth agape as you came undone, your lower knot being the last thing that held you back. Your body jolted, the blanket falling to your thighs, giving Jisung a glimpse of what made you like this, your walls clenching around the toy endlessly, your other hand shooting to his shoulder, trying to support your body in vain.

“Holy shit” Was all you could hear from the boy who made you like this. Changbin stared at you in awe, he took his hand away from you, completely in shock as your body shook violently, slowly falling to Han’s lap. He was so surprised he didn’t even turn off the device, watching you trembling uncontrollably, your hand grasping the armrest as the overstimulation hit you. You couldn’t help but whimper, loud cries and meaninglessly words falling from your lips on loop, as you laid face down, your body contorted on the couch, sprawled on top of both of your friends.

It felt like thousands of needles stinging you, the pleasure starting to fade away, the pain waving through your body, making you cry on Jisung’s lap. The hypersensitivity didn’t help your trembling, your muscles tensed up, burning like hell as shivers run through all your body unstoppably, your brain couldn’t form any sentences, a million thoughts seemed to float around the place, nothing to help you out, nothing to scream to him, just a bunch of incoherent things inside your head.

“M-Master” You managed to mewl, your voice came out as a string, slithering on the air, the only thing sounding in the room besides their heavy breaths and the buzzing sound. You could feel Jisung’s hand rubbing circles on your back, trying to calm you down, but the added sensation got you riled up, so you buried your teeth on his inner thigh, trying to suppress your voice, and his grunt seemed to bring Changbin back to earth, the toy immediately stopping to stimulate you.

You never felt so relieved.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” Changbin blurted, pulling the toy out of you and trying to hold your body but Jisung swatted his hands away, pulling you up to his lap, cuddling you in your post-orgasm state, covering you with his blanket, the warmth very welcoming. You didn’t even spare a glance at Changbin, your head buried into the crook of Jisung’s neck.

“What the fuck man?” Han spoke up, his voice sounded mad, disturbing your clouded mind. You tried to order your thoughts, understand what was happening but you didn’t find the strength to break away from him just yet “How could you do that to her?!” He hugged you tightly, and you wondered what he meant by it “How could you do that to me?!” He complained, his voice sounded hurt and betrayed.

“You’re a fucking turtle, Han!” Changbin whined “I can’t wait for you to raise your balls! I like her! You know that!” He sounded upset, and you felt concern wash over you, dissolving the drowsiness a little bit, getting you to raise your head and look at him “Did you expect me to wait forever?! I gave you chance after chance! I waited through college for you to have the guts to confess to her! What did you expect?!” His voice raised by the minute, completely mad at his friend, and you could feel Jisung squirming under you, hurt by his words.

“I expected you to treat her well at least” He spat, enraged, and it was enough to shut Changbin up, his face contorting in regret and shame “I expected you not to do this behind my back! To not hurt her! Look at her state! She can’t even sit straight!” His voice raised, completely awakening you.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I-“ Changbin muttered, completely lost, his eyes watered as he looked at you “I’m so sorry, Love… I really am” You looked into his eyes, worried. You never saw Changbin so broken before, eyes holding so much regret that it tightened your heart to see him like this. You adjusted yourself on Han’s lap, trying to get out of him, crawling in Changbin’s way, his eyes focused on you as you approached him.

“I’m not hurt, Binnie” You promised, caressing his cheek “I’m fine, you did great” You reassured him, kissing his cheek before resting your forehead against his, closing your eyes “I never felt so good in my life, it was incredible…” He nuzzled you, placing a soft kiss on your lips before kissing your temple and leaning back to look at you.

“I can’t believe it” Han scoffed, averting his eyes “He just…” You looked at him as he sighed, devasted “I guess I was too slow… What can I do? All I can do is let you fuck like rabbits” He laughed at himself, self-pitying while getting up from the couch. You turned your head back to Changbin, conflicted.

“I don’t know… I think she would like to take things slower now” Changbin mocked him, looking at you in a silent question, getting a nod from you “Maybe you could get some help with this?” He pointed to the obvious bulge on his friend’s pants, making the younger one blush. Jisung looked at you, unsure, but you promptly got out of the couch, standing wobbly in front of him.

“You don’t need to do it” He muttered, lowering his head. You touched his round cheeks, cupping it and guiding his head up so he could stare into your eyes, your hands sliding to his nape, fisting his hair and pulling his head back, enticing a moan from him. You smirked as your lips hovered over his neck, a shiver running down his body as he expected what you would do next, his breath hitched. You trailed his neck with open mouth kisses, sucking lightly at his skin until he groaned as you found a sweet spot there, giving him your full attention.

“I want you inside me” You whispered in his ear, and it just clicked something inside him. You couldn’t sense his shyness when his hand grabbed your wrist, squeezing it slightly so you would release his locks, his other hand shot to your underwear, ripping it off, the sudden motion made you jolt, an expectant look on your eyes as you focused on him again, blushing. His hands wandered under your sweater, groping your breast and caressing your nipple gently, a moan slipping from your lips as soon as he did it.

“You shall have what you want, princess” He assured before taking his hands off from your body, quickly getting rid of his own pants and underwear, freeing his hard cock from its cage for your display. You gulped down, thirsty at the sight. He was definitely longer than Changbin and it made you eager, wetting your lips as you imagined how he would fit in you before your eyes darted back to his when he scoffed, watching you “Well… I see Changbin can only please you with a toy, right? You can be too fast, right Binnie? Sometimes it’s not about coming first” He mocked, looking directly at his older friend, sneering.

“Watch your words, Han” He advised “Remember she’s not yours, she’s my slut” You whimpered at his tone, the threat didn’t seem to work on Han though, as he scoffed, his hands groping your ass and pulling you up on the armrest, setting you comfortably before looking at Changbin with a smugness you never saw on the youngest.

“I wouldn’t count on that” He shrugged off, stroking his dick a few times, smearing his precum all over it before positioning himself on your entrance, teasing you with his tip while looking directly at Changbin as he did so “You see, Binnie? Relationships aren’t about sparks… It doesn’t matters who arrive first… What does matter though…” He pushed himself all the way in, stretching you deliciously, enticing a moan from you “Is who hit the deepest parts…” He thrusts once, hitting deep inside you, and pulling out slowly.

The motion seemed too slow for your own good, almost as torture as you felt every inch of him stretching you the way back, the whimper that got through your body didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. He didn’t pull out completely, teasing you, so you wrapped your legs around his waist and tried to bring him closer, to sink him into you. He smiled satisfied at your reaction but instead of complying with your wishes, his next thrust was even slower, and you could feel him filing you up inch by inch until he reached the end, your body shivering again.

“Who has the deepest connections” He continued after a moment, recomposing himself “It’s about slowly building your trust…” He punctuated his final sentence with another thrust, pulling in and out in a torturous rhythm that got you frustrated. You whined but he just stood there, all his length inside you, twitching but not moving, your eyes connected to his, pleading silently but he tilted his head in mock confusion “What is it, princess? What do you want?”

“Please, fuck me” You begged, tired from his teasing, tightening your grip on his waist and throwing your head back, ashamed. You had just cum a few moments ago, a quite overwhelming orgasm, and here you were begging for another one to your friend. You couldn’t help but get aroused by the thought of Changbin watching you fucking someone else, especially since this someone else was Han, you risked a glance in his way, his eyes darkening as he saw your flustered self, whimpering under Jisung.

You could almost hear him calling you a needy whore.

“See? The tortoise was slow but it won in the end” He reminded, smirking. He gripped your jaw, forcing you to face Changbin, his hold firm on your chin, and you licked your lips, your eyes focusing on his crotch before finding his distressed eyes “Watch him, princess, as I fuck you into oblivion” He instructed, you squirmed under his grip, the thought of Changbin watching you getting fucked by his best friend clouding your mind again “And make sure to cum screaming my name… Let’s remind him who can make you feel really good, okay?”

This time, when he thrust into you, pounding mercilessly until he found your sweet spot, he wasn’t slow by one bit.

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haztory · 4 years ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

--erwin smith x reader; fluff, domestic, not canon compliant farmer erwin, there’s a mentioning of injuries but not enough to be considered graphic! (erwin lives!)

a.n: this is my attempt at swinging back into the ways of writing after a long, long, long hiatus! i wrote this in thirty minutes as just an exercise, but felt it was cohesive enough to post. its vague, abstract, and definitely not a magnum opus, but its something. this is more of an erwin story than an x reader one, but i hope you all enjoy regardless!

this was titled after a song on the pride and prejudice ost of the same name. highly recommend you give it a listen

anything for my sweet boy erwin ♡

(w.c: 1686)

At the initial prospect of it, retirement was somewhat akin to shooting oneself in the foot for a man like Erwin. It was condescending, debilitating, almost an insult were he any lesser than a reasonable man.

The word was floated around numerous times after the loss of his arm, spoken with a gentleness and, dare he say, a trepidation they believed must be adopted when speaking to the freshly injured man. For fear of upsetting him or for fear of making the situation real, he’s not quite sure. It was mentioned, nonetheless. In passing, directly, through implication; Everyone seemed to think that Erwin was less of a man and more of a liability because of his lost arm, and that retiring from the Scout Regiment would be the best option for everyone.

That was something he took offense to.

His physical abilities may be considerably limited now, yes, but he still holds inherent value to the cause he’s dedicated his life to. Still has goals, still has dreams, still has ideas that must be discussed and implemented if the fate of humanity is to even think about surviving beyond the next few days.

Erwin still had some fight in him, and he still had things to offer. Things that retirement would take away from him.

The word settled like a thick tar on his tongue and left a bitter aftertaste, one he couldn’t bear to swallow down. So he didn’t. He spit the word back out, removing it from his mouth and sternly asking others to rid themselves of it too. They followed his order, albeit begrudgingly, but the conversation ended then and there. Not permanently, unfortunately. No amount of power, Erwin imagines, could ever snuff out the growing fear his missing appendage has instilled in his soldiers. That even the most untouchable, unshakeable of leaders could be tainted by this cruel world.

He knows it's on everyone's mind, no matter how many times he can try to assuage the fears, for if the exchanged uneasy glances between his eccentric Section Commander and trusted Captain were anything to go by, then the fear his cadets must feel must be traumatizing. The looks they pass to one another when they think he isn’t looking.

Erwin lost an arm, not his intuition. It seems he’s the only one who knows that.

But they let it go. They all do, for now at least. They reluctantly put a pin at his assertion that he would continue his work, regardless of injury, and quickly filed this topic as one they would return to at a later date. Appease him now to make him more receptive to the future. They let him continue to work himself dry, let him continue with physical missions like he wasn’t missing a trusted appendage, and entertained his reckless and drastic thoughts to a certain extent.

When he lands himself back in the infirmary, this time with a serious rupture to the side of his stomach from flying debris, and a number of broken bones that will surely cause permanent hindrance to his mobility, the topic is brought back up again. Only this time, it’s non-negotiable. His near death was the final straw in forcing Erwin Smith into retirement.

∵

He hates it.

Hates how quiet his home is, hates how unexciting his routine is, hates not being able to know.

But he finds that making coffee is still manageable with one arm. The sun still shines as brightly inside the walls as it does outside. The birds still chirp excitedly in the morning and the wind still blows gently in the afternoon.

He hates retirement, but it’s manageable.

It gets better after a while, the presence of a neighbor making his nights substantially more interesting with the dinner she brings over.

∵

The house is quiet once again, only the distant chirps of the birds filling the empty space. It's familiar, but he finds it unsettling this time around. A feeling of anticipation creeping into his stomach, waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment.

It doesn’t happen.

With a slight furrow in his brow and after a long analyzing gaze outside the window above the kitchen sink, Erwin makes his way towards the front door, granting him access to the front porch of the house. Settled away from the city, the land his house is built on stretches for miles; Fields of green spread out before him and littered with tall, blooming and swaying trees. The chickens squawk and run around before him and the horses huff their snorts of boredom. There’s activity in the Smith residence, but it’s not the kind he’s looking for.

There’s something missing.

Bringing his left arm up to his mouth, he curls his fingers below his tongue, blowing out a loud and sharp whistle that has all movement still for a brief moment on his farm. All attention piqued on him, the animals and the trees alike waited for Erwin’s response.

They wait, and they wait, and they wait. But still, nothing.

The crease between Erwin’s brows dips further. A brief flash of worry settles in his shoulders. He pulls his fingers into his mouth again, blowing a whistle that lasts for a few seconds longer this time. His eyes stay trained on the hill before him, hoping to see something. Anything.

He waits a minute before the restlessness takes over and he takes his steps down the stairs of the porch, his boots crunching against the crisp grass still wet from the morning dew. He approaches the top of the hill, the one that lays level with the foundation of his house, before surveying the land further below. He looks left and right, then left again and then right again, eyes peeled for that familiar flash of grey.

Where in the world could that damn dog have gone?

The dog is usually fast enough to return before he even needs to whistle a second time, never straying too far from the property for her to not hear Erwin’s call. But this time is different. She’s gone and isn’t returning to him and that can only mean one thing.

Trouble.

He begins his trek down the hill, the morning still early enough to not have him sweating on this irregular stroll of his, but he can feel the temperature slowly rising through the air. The wind serves as his only semblance of comfort as it continues its mission of cooling the exposed skin of his forearm and neck.

He must be walking for at least five minutes before he sees it. The scraggly grey hair of a dog's bottom, her top half hidden behind a large oak tree but her tail wagging ferociously. A small smile graces Erwin’s face subconsciously, the slowly building apprehension dissipating in an instant at seeing the vivacious mutt.

Or at least at seeing her bottom half.

He approaches the tree slowly, the noises of enjoyment and panting from the dog becoming louder as he draws nearer. But there’s another sound too that fills the air. A sound much sweeter and delicate, one that he’s heard a thousand times over the years, and yet, Erwin swears it's one he can never get tired of.

It’s a breath of fresh air, an instant drug in his veins, and the reason behind the swelling of his heart. His smile grows wider than he could have possibly imagined.

He gets close enough and the dog finally notices him, bounding over to him in an instant with a greeting bark and a perk in her step. He pats her head, a silent gratefulness at having found her finally and understanding why she refused to meet his calls. Why she continued to stay at the spot behind the oak tree a five minute walk away from her home.

He finally gets near the tree, peering around its large trunk to the spot the dog previously occupied and can’t help but laugh in surprise.

Sitting in the space between the bulging roots are his two girls, one aged six and the other three, huddled close together as they coo and giggle over an object resting between the two’s feet. Their backs are turned towards their father, too preoccupied with whatever was settled between them to even notice the beloved dog’s disappearance from her original spot and its replacement with their father.

His years of training to fight titans kicks in, his steps as quiet as can be as he gets closer to the girls to get a look at what they were currently fawning over.

A baby bird. Brown in color and more than comfortable between the two children.

“What are you two doing?”

His voice sends a jolt of shock through them, the two girls jumping in the air at the sudden disruption and whipping their faces around to look at the intruder. The fear quickly melts off of their round faces when they realize who it is.

“Daddy!” The two girls yell unanimously, unbridled joy filtering their features and Erwin briefly sees the beautiful face of their mother in them. The youngest in particular.

The eldest managed to take most of his features, much to his wife’s pleasure, retaining his aquiline nose, the vibrant blue of his eyes, and his own oval face shape, but her hair is a delightful mix between his and his wife’s. And while she looks the most like him, she acts the most like her mother; Joyous and giggly and a passionate ball of rays.

Now, his youngest, while looking almost entirely like a carbon copy of her mother, was in fact a replica of his own personality. Quiet, curious, diplomatic. A balance to her impulsive sister, a shining grey crater of peace in the sky.

His sun and moon. His reasons for orbit. The loves of his life.

∵

And as he walks his two girls back across the field to their home, their mother’s figure on the horizon and an excited chatter between them as they recount the tales of their morning in helping the baby bird, a single thought enters Erwin’s mind.

Retirement isn’t so bad.

#erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #erwin smith #fluff #my writing #baby boy erwin deserves the world #i just want him to be happy

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

Text

Sugar and Coffee [22]

Chapter 21 - Chapter 22 - Chapter 22.5 OR Chapter 23 [Finale]

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

There’s quite a few things that you hate. You like to say you’re a somewhat well-mannered individual who wouldn’t use such a strong word, such as hate, to describe objects, people, and things in general. But there’s a number of things that just absolutely grind your gears. One of such examples are small spoons used to eat ice-cream or crème brûlée where you can never get a satisfying mouthful. And another is— “Fuck this yeast. Seriously.” “Hey, what did yeast ever do to you?” Jungkook laughs, finding your rage all the more amusing. “It won’t foam up.” You tap the measuring cup with a long sigh. Sure, the mixture is bubbling, but it’s nowhere near as good as you want it to be. “It’s been five minutes too.” “Did you put in sugar to feed it?” You scoff. “Who do you take me for?” You hate making bread, hate making laminated dough, hate anything that has to yeast. It’s just horrible to work with and you don’t understand how anyone can like bread in the first place. No one can eat bread on its own. It’s bland as hell. It’s boring. But aside from your personal vendetta, it just didn’t make sense — you and Jungkook have the same dry active yeast but when he proofs it, it’s perfect. You wonder if these tiny organisms hate you. “I hate yeast and bread and everything to do with it.” “Quit whining.” While Jungkook brushes past you, he taps your bottom. “Less complaining, more working.” “Easy for you to say.” Jungkook continues the recipe. He whisks together three tablespoons sugar, a tablespoon of salt, and three cups flour. In the meanwhile, you stand there, tapping your glass and wondering if you have to re-do the entire process. But then another thought comes into mind. And you slyly switch yours with Jungkook’s. “Whatever, we’ll see what happens.” You clear your throat, discreetly shifting past him to grab the salt. “Who knows, it might end up fermenting properly,” he says and a noncommittal sound is made at the back of your throat. Quickly, you make your dry mixture and pour the yeast in with some oil. It forms into a soft dough, bouncy to the touch, and just the right texture. At the same time, Jungkook returns to grab the yeast and immediately frowns. “What the fuck is wrong with my yeast.” He brings it up to eye level, frowning. You shrug. “Yeast is finicky. Was your water too hot when you poured it in? Might’ve killed it.” “But it was fine befor—” Jungkook’s voice halts. His eyes dim. He redirects his gaze towards you and deadpans, “You switched it, didn’t you?” “What?” You laugh. “No, I didn’t.” It’s frightening how he figured it out in an instant. You ponder just how much Jungkook can see right through you. “You took it, didn’t you?!” Your boyfriend playfully throws his arm around your neck and pins you under his armpit in a choke hold. You giggle, grabbing onto his forearm. “I didn’t!” “You’re still trying to lie to me now, brat? I expected better from you!” He laughs and you squeal. “Jungkook!” Finally, he lets go of you, but not before huffing out in frustration. You’re unable to recover when he ruffles your hair roughly, disheveling your entire head and sighing again. “Now I have to re-do mine.” You pout, watching him grab the container of dry active yeast. “I have to make sure my bread rises.” He smiles softly. “So now you admit stealing from me?” You dust off the flour from your hands and approach slowly. When the opportunity is right, you grab Jungkook’s arm and loll your head to one side, fluttering your lashes. “You wouldn’t be upset with your wonderful girlfriend, right, Kookie?” “Don’t try to act cute with me.” You lean against him. “I’m not. I just love you.” Jungkook scoffs, but a tiny smile still lifts on his features. The corner of his mouth is timidly quirked and you know you’ve won. The dough is kneaded until it’s elastic. Then the bowl is covered with a damp cloth and put in a warm place where it rises for an hour and a half. Afterwards, you punch the dough down on a lightly floured counter, shape it, and bake it in greased loaf pans. For hating everything yeast, you must admit that the smell of fresh bread filling the kitchen is mouthwatering. “It rose!” You peek through the oven in its last minutes, observing the way the crust is turning golden brown. “It looks so good.” Jungkook looks over your shoulder. “Not bad. We’re going to have to do it again though. Or at least you do.” “What?” The oven closes and you whirl around. “Why?” “You can’t use my yeast during our exams.” Your boyfriend’s expression is impassive and you open your mouth to retort, but end up closing it. There’s no way you can argue against that. “Ugh!” Your feet stamp childishly. “But I hate it!” He smirks and brushes past you. “Should’ve done it right in the first place.” “Shut up, Jeon.” The scent of bread baking in the oven only serves to mock you now. Jungkook tears his teeth into his bread, having lightly buttered it before eating. It’s still steaming hot and looks soft inside. You’re jealous, but also thankful when he stays around and watches you try a second batch all on your own without stealing any of his yeast. “Too much salt or sugar could slow down the yeast,” Jungkook says. “If the water is too hot, you’ll kill it. If it’s too cold, it won’t activate.” You sigh. “Why is it so difficult?” “It isn’t. Just keep trying. The best upcoming pâtisserie chef isn’t going to give up on something as simple as bread, right?” Your boyfriend smiles when he sees you can’t even feign a pout, that your mouth twitches at the compliment. Motivation flares through you. “That’s right.” You check water twice, ensuring that it’s the perfect amount of warmness and after you add the godforsaken yeast, you measure out sugar carefully. There’s little agitation before you set up a stool to watch it move. You pray these microbes will do your efforts justice, that they’ll release their carbon dioxide and ethanol, that they’ll bubble and ferment and make your dough rise later on. “Are you going to sit there and watch it?” “Shush,” you hiss at Jungkook as if the yeast could be scared to death. He smiles, plops a kiss at the top of your head and walks away to clean up his pans and bowls. In the meantime, you wait for five minutes, and then another two just to make sure. By then, it’s bubbling. “Is this good?” You bring it to Jungkook, not sure anymore. He peers inside the bowl. “Looks okay to me.” “Then I did it!” You throw yourself at him for a big hug and the yeast mixture nearly sloshes above the rim of the bowl onto the ground. “We can go now, right?” Jungkook snorts. “You still need to make the bread, sweetheart.” You pout. It’s such a pain. But it’s worth it when dough rises, the bread bakes perfectly in the oven, and Jungkook claps for you. When all is said and done, you feel lucky that Jungkook’s here for you, a personal cheerleader of sorts, always rooting you on. You didn’t know bread could taste so sweet.

“Jungkook.” “Hmm?” He’s nodding off, head rested in his palm, elbow on the counter, slumped on the stool. He’s trying hard to keep his eyes open, but he’s been dozing, hair flopping around as he tries to keep himself awake. It’s painful to watch him. “Go to bed.” “’t’s okay.” Jungkook straightens his spine and stretches above his head with a yawn. “I’ll wait for you.” “I’m not going to be done my cakes for a while. Just go back and sleep. Aren’t you tired?” “Only a little.” He slides off his stool anyway, oddly obedient when he can’t be bothered to put up a fight. Still, Jungkook comes over and you instantly know what he wants. He leans down, propping his chin on your shoulder, and you hug him as he folds over you. His body is nearly covering your entire frame like a blanket, but it’s warm and comfortable. “I wanted to wait for you,” he mumbles sleepily into your shoulder. “You’ll see me tomorrow, you big baby.” He makes a disgruntled noise, eyes shut, squeezing you before letting go. You smile at him. “Here.” And you help Jungkook undo his white apron. He turns around so you can undo the strings and once it’s free from his body, you haphazardly toss the apron on the counter. You press your hands against his cheeks so his mouth puckers and you place a brief kiss to his lips. “Okay, now go back and sleep.” “Okay.” Jungkook relents and retreats away, barely dragging his legs along. A soft smile finds its way on your face, but right when the door of the kitchen closes, your nose scrunches. There’s a smokey smell in the air. Immediately, you whirl around to where you’re working and a gasp rips from your lungs. Jungkook’s apron that you tossed, the one he once told you was precious and lucky to him, is caught on fire. The cloth is curling right on the stove, burnt off, red flames engulfing it. After a delayed second, you finally lurch forward and grab the edge of it to dump it in the sink. The smoke rises as you turn on the tap and you watch, completely stunned and speechless. “Shit. Shit!” // You’re at a loss of what to do. You’ve stuffed the dirty thing in your bag, went home and tried to recover it. But the white apron has a huge gaping hole right at the center and there’s nothing to be undone. You tried to read the tag too, to find the brand, to find where it was manufactured, but it’s been worn and faded. So you consult help. “Jimin, do you know where Jungkook’s apron is from? The one he usually wears.” “No idea,” the boy says and you’re flooded with complete disappointment. “Didn’t his grandpa give him that thing before he passed away? I think it’s why Jungkook started baking in the first place.” Blood drains from your face. You feel worse than you did before. Jimin notices the way your expression crumples, how you’re on the verge of tears and his eyes widen. “Are you okay?! What’s wrong?” “Don’t tell Jungkook….but...I…..I accidentally burnt his apron.” There’s a quiet pause. “Oh shit.” “What do I do, Jimin?” Guilt and remorse eats you whole, chewing and spitting you out to leave you nude and mortified. “I just took it off of him and threw it on the counter. I didn’t know it would land by the stove!” “You can’t read the tag?” When you shake your head, the boy sighs and his voice softens in sympathy you don’t want. “I’m sure Jungkook won’t be upset with you, Y/N. It was an accident.” But you can’t come clean with him. You can’t bear seeing Jungkook’s disappointed face. The inevitable expression that’ll arrive if you tell him you destroyed a precious belonging. If you tell him you ruined his late grandpa’s last gift. If you tell him you wrecked what started him on this journey. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen something like this before.” Aeri holds it up, studying the pathetic piece of cloth in the light and ignoring the giant hole in the center. She’s the next person you turn to and perhaps your last one. Yoongi would just laugh in your face and call you an idiot. Taehyung can’t keep a secret for his life. And Hoseok has more than enough on his plate than to deal with your antics. Jimin and Aeri are the ones who are understanding and kind enough to actually help you in your dumb crisis. “Have you tried searching online?” “I found one similar on amazon but it’s not the same. The pockets are placed differently. He’ll know.” “Doesn’t Jungkook have the standard one from school?” “It’s...not the same.” You exhale in defeat and fall back onto her bed. You cover your face with your hands to shield away the sunlight that comes through the windows. The nice, autumn weather felt like it was mocking you. “What should I do? What if Jungkook breaks up with me over it? I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” The girl laughs. “He wouldn’t. Jungkook’s not that kind of person. I’m sure if you just told him, everything will be okay, Y/N.” That’s what everyone reassures, and in the back of your mind, you know he can’t be upset with you for that long. But Jungkook trusted you with a personal belonging of his — something so special and you burnt it to a crisp. You feel guilty. There’s no amount of apologies that can bring the apron back to how it was. You’ve ruined it like how you ruin everything else in your life. // “Hey, have you seen my apron?” Jungkook’s digging into his belongings a few days later, having searched his locker and is now looking into his drawers and into his closet. You swallow hard, knowing that this was imminent. “N-nope.” “Weird. I swear I had it here….” You glance at your backpack. There’s a new apron that you bought, had it shipped to you in a day’s time. You picked the nicest gift bag to put it in too, but you haven’t had the courage to confront him about it. You wonder what Jungkook would do if he decided to end the relationship over this. Maybe he’ll cite that he’s done with your shit, that you’re irresponsible and too clingy. That you’re too emotional, how he can’t trust you with anything, and perhaps he'll say he needs space. You’ll survive — you know that much. You’ve been through enough in your life to know you’ll make it out, but surviving is not the same thing as living. Jungkook’s become such a big part of your life — your boyfriend, partner in crime, best friend — you don’t know if you’ll ever be ready to be without him. You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone else before. “What’s the matter?” Jungkook’s suddenly squeezing your face together, the cheesiest grin painted across his own visage. “I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes. Are you thinking about someone else when you’re with your boyfriend?” You blink at him, eyes becoming glossy. Jungkook’s confusion takes over when you don’t make any snarky comebacks, when he realizes you’re not in the mood to joke around. He slowly lowers his grip and sits down on the edge of his bead, concern taking hold. “Is everything okay?” Your breath staggers out from your mouth. “Don’t be mad.” His brows furrow deep. “What’s wrong?” You open your mouth, but realize that you can’t say it. So you lean down and grab the gift bag from your backpack. You hand it to him and he takes it in his bewilderment, peeking inside. You tear your eyes away. You can’t bear to see his face. “I’m sorry. Really. I am, Jungkook. The….the other day when I took off your apron, I threw it on the counter without looking and it caught on fire. I was trying to look for another one, but I don’t know where it’s from and I know it’s special to you, and I’m so sorry.” There’s silence. Then the noise of his chuckling. You lift your head and you’re instantaneously engulfed into Jungkook’s arms, hugged by him. “I love it, thank you.” You’re stunned — and it takes a moment for you to snap back to reality. “You’re not mad at me?” “No.” Jungkook scoffs lightly and pulls away with a grin. “I was wondering why you’ve been so quiet the entire day. I was more worried than anything. You didn’t get burnt, did you?” “No.” “Good. Then that’s all that matters.” He’s humming happily, unfolding the new apron and pushing out the folded wrinkles. Then Jungkook stands up while holding it out on his body, checking how it looks in the mirror. You can’t comprehend how he can be so forgiving. “Wasn’t the other one from your grandpa? You started baking because of him, right?” “Kind of. He cooked a lot and told me I should find something I love to do and make it my job. It was a bit of a whim.” The boy turns around, doe eyes twinkling. “But that old man gave me a whole box of stuff, not just the apron. And honestly, it was kind of getting old and worn, so I’m glad I have a new one now — plus it’s from my amazing girlfriend, so how can I not love it?” It takes three seconds. Three seconds and then you burst out crying. You’re not sure exactly why and it causes Jungkook to be alarmed. He tries to comfort you, but he’s obviously uncomfortable as he pats your back and caresses your hair awkwardly. It’s only when you’ve calmed down a bit where he wipes your cheeks with his thumbs and asks if it was something he said. When you tell him you’re not quite sure, the next question he asks is if you’re on your period — and you almost slap him. The pair of you don’t talk about your meltdown again, but in the middle of the night while you’re still awake, you’re finally able to pinpoint your emotion. It wasn’t that you were afraid of Jungkook being angry or breaking up with you — you were afraid of disappointing him, of breaking his heart, of hurting him. You know anyone else in your life would’ve been let down. But not Jungkook. And for that, you feel relieved, reassured, comforted. You feel fortunate that he loves you, and most of all, you realize just how much you cherish the boy named Jeon Jungkook.

In the middle of your bread and viennoiserie class, while your floured hands are folding laminated dough, Taehyung looks up from the counter with a sudden question. “What kind of wedding cake do you guys want?” “The hell did that come from,” Yoongi grunts beside him, his beloved silence now broken. “Well I was just thinking salami and prosciutto would be so delicious with bread, because I love myself some deli meats and there’s this super cute girl at the deli I go to, but I’m pretty sure she has a boyfriend. Anyway, I started to remember the cakes they had on display at the bakery section and there was a funfetti one with a cartoon rabbit on it that looked a lot like Jungkook.” “What?” Taehyung keeps rambling, literally thinking out loud, “Then I realized he and Y/N are probably gonna get married someday, and I wondered if I was going to be a groomsman at the wedding and what kind of cake they were going to have, so yeah. What kind of cake do you guys want?” Yoongi's expression is disconcerting as if he’s wondering how Taehyung lives peacefully with a brain like his. “Do you ever get tired being yourself?” “Hey, you asked.” The tall brunette is unbothered by the insult and turns to the two of you for an answer. “What kind of wedding cake are you guys going to have?” Your mind is reeling. Getting married to Jungkook seems so far away from now. The pair of you are barely in your twenties, and you’re not particularly inclined to get hitched so young. But in terms of cake — your own specialty — you’ve had one in mind since the beginning of time. “Well obviously, we’re going to have chocolate.” — “Fresh strawberries and cream.” You and Jungkook both answer at the same time over top each other. Your heads turn, eyes meeting, stares connected. “Of course we’re going to have chocolate.” “Aren’t you sick of it? I make chocolate for you all the time,” Jungkook argues. “And you eat some every other day.” “I could never get sick of chocolate.” You frown. “Since when did you like fresh strawberries and cream?” “Always.” He shrugs. “And when we worked at Kim's cakes, that flavour always tasted the best to me. It’s fresh, but still sweet. I think everyone would like it. It’s versatile.” “Yeah, but what matters is that we like it.” “I like it.” “Yeah, but I think chocolate is just more fitting for us.” Yoongi sighs, looking over at Taehyung. “Here they go again.” “What?” You direct your attention to the sleepy man, a sharp bite to your words. “What do you mean ‘here we go again’?” Taehyung’s eyes widen and he begins to slide away from the counter, not wanting to be in the face of your wrath. Yoongi, on the other hand, has never been intimidated by you in the least bit. “The both of you are always fighting.” You glance at your boyfriend. “No, we’re not.” “First it was about cookie dough and then pineapple on pizza, soufflés and now this.” Yoongi spits straight up facts without sugar coating it and you’re left stumped. You didn’t realize how it looked to outsiders. You know there’s never animosity between you and Jungkook — it’s just debates, but you suppose the arguments happen frequently. You stare at Jungkook and he smiles tenderly at you. The man turns back towards his friends. “I like getting Y/N riled up. Isn’t it fun to watch her?” “Excuse me?” you scoff, not expecting that kind of response. “Ugh.” But Taehyung takes his words in a completely different meaning and his face scrunches. “So this is a kink you guys get off on? Making other people suffer by listening to your bickering?” Jungkook doesn’t say anything and merely wiggles his brows. It makes your face hot and Yoongi appears disgusted as well next to his baking partner. Your boyfriend looks off at you. “How about chocolate strawberry cake then? We can have chocolate cake layers and alternate between cream and ganache in between. We can frost it in strawberry buttercream with strawberry roses as decoration — and of course, a pile of chocolate strawberries as the topper.” You grin at him, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. “Brilliant. As usual.” “Ugh.” Taehyung groans even louder. “Nevermind. Go back to hating each other. I can’t handle you two being sappy and gross.” “Well get used to it,” you tell him proudly while Jungkook drapes an arm over your shoulder, approving your message. It’s only when the teacher brushes past all four of you and reminds all of you to continue kneading your dough do you remember that you’re in class with everyone eavesdropping in. But you don’t mind shamelessly flaunting your relationship with Jungkook — you’re proud of him and of loving him. // It’s later that night when you’re snuggling while watching some show playing on his laptop, that you verbalize some doubts that Taehyung’s snuck into your mind. “Do you think we argue too much?” “What?” Jungkook turns his head. “Not really. I like arguing with you — well, not in any way that makes any of us upset or anything, but I like our heated debates. Why? Don’t you?” “I do,” you hum. “I was worried you didn’t. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m always picking fights with you.” He laughs and the sound is melodic to your ears. Jungkook’s grip on you tightens, making sure he’s holding you close. “You are. But I don’t mind. We don’t need to agree on everything to be together.” You lean into his warmth and a content sigh escapes your lips. Of all the things that you disagree with Jungkook on, you think he would agree that the both of you cherish being with one another. Future wedding or not, you want to savour every moment and all the antics you have together. That’s all that really matters.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #btsboulangerie #jungkook x reader #jungkook baking AU #jungkook baking!AU #sugar and coffee #ONE MORE CHAPTER GUYSSSS

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amandaoftherosemire · 4 years ago

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And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part Four

Fandom: Marvel/MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,425

Format: Short Series (Complete)

Warnings: Violence, graphic and disturbing imagery, death, language, implied smut, fluff.

Summary: You meet Bucky Barnes upon your mysterious and deadly escape from a power obsessed cult leader and his followers. Though you carry a secret in addition to the wariness of trauma, you can’t help your attraction to Bucky and his irascible demeanor. As for Bucky, he is drawn to the light he sees in you while he fears the things you’re hiding. Can you trust him with your secrets, and your life? Will you have a choice?

A/N: When I told my husband about some of the things that happen in this chapter, he reacted with impressed horror and disgust. (He’s a great audience.) When I went to edit and proofread this chapter, however, that was in my mind and I realized that some of the things I describe in here are pretty weird and gross and I’m a little perturbed that I wrote them without realizing exactly how weird and gross they were. I wasn’t aware I also had a horror writer in here. Hmm. Anyway, fair warning: graphic horror movie style descriptions.

That said, these two were fun to write, and I might write more with them reuniting after the Blip. TFAWS was a gold mine for inspiration and I’m itching to write more Sam and Bucky interactions now that I have more of them in my head. Feel free to let me know if you want that. 😊

I would have had this up faster, but the God of Mischief has been busy of late and he was occupying my mind and my keyboard for the past several weeks. Every time I sat down to my computer, he took over and it has been too much fun to stop. Soon, I promise. 😉

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part Four

Bucky shook his head and snorted. "We're gonna have to have a talk about your timing, doll."

Bucky dragged his eyes from your retreating form to focus on the threat outside. He'd be damned if he'd let these assholes hurt you. Especially when he needed to hear you tell him you loved him again, when he still needed to tell you he loved you, too.

"JOSEPH!" You shouted as you threw the door open, your hair smoldering as you stepped over the body in the doorway. Your voice was a mockery of the strident tone he'd taken as you'd made him wait while you spoke to Bucky. You walked forward until you were standing at the top of the stairs onto the front porch. "If you want me to be quick, do not send me meals. Or did you not send Brit as a sacrifice to the creature inside me?”

Joseph took a single step forward, losing his breath in a sigh of awe as your skin began to glow the red-orange of a fire's heart from the inside out, your eyes glowing molten gold as you spoke. "He's pleased that you'd send someone so valuable, but he also hopes you understand," your lips curved in a cruel, hungry smile as those brilliant eyes swept over the robed figures ranged behind him, "it's not going to be nearly enough.”

Bucky could see the shudder of fear run through the small crowd and figured at least half would panic and run should you attack. However, as he'd kept his eyes and the sight of his gun on Joseph, he could also see the desire on the other man's face as he eased closer when you didn't stop that first tentative step.

"That's not going to be a problem," the man said with pure lust in his voice.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw a twinkle of light just before a wall of flame erupted into being between Joseph and his followers, spreading from the left to the right. As he expected, half of them broke and ran immediately, joined by a few more besides. A few diehards ran towards the flames, but the heat screaming off of the fire easily kept them at bay. He figured Kiki was in control of them and focused in on the only threat left.

Joseph seemed mesmerized by the sight of you as you slowly descended the stairs toward him. "Are you a god?" You intoned the words in the same popping, roaring voice Bucky remembered from that first meeting and his eyes swept the scene for confirmation that Kiki was coming in from the left as her wall of fire indicated.

"I will be!" Joseph cried as he lunged towards you, only to stop abruptly at the blast of heated air that swept between you as the wall began to move in a swirl, whipped into a river of fire. The leading edge was bright gold with streamers of vibrant orange and red and hints of turquoise heat that hit the man directly in the chest and poured into him.

When he'd absorbed the last bit of fire, he looked up at you next to your front door where you'd retreated and smiled a cruel, anticipatory smile. His body continued to jerk and contort in wicked and unsettling ways that seemed to be preventing him from following you up the stairs to take his revenge.

You were deeply horrified by what was happening to him, though you didn't move any further away because you could hear Kiki muttering as she rummaged around inside Joseph. You didn't know what she was looking for, but you knew that he was dead as soon as she found it, either because of what she was doing or the man in the window waiting for his moment. You could see, however, that Joseph thought he was on the verge of victory, and you pitied him.

When you heard her crow in delighted discovery, you whispered, that pity ripe in your voice and on your face. "Good-bye, Joseph."

In the next instant, Kiki was clawing her way out of him, starting at his chest and climbing up his throat as he clutched his neck in nightmarish pain. Your eyes stayed dry, but you didn't enjoy suffering, even his. When the little flame body that Kiki had in this dimension came pushing out of Joseph's mouth in front of a hoarse scream, Bucky ended his torment with a single bullet to the heart.

The blackened body that fell to the ground was the last straw for the last few cultists who hadn't already fled. You saw them run for the forest in your peripheral vision but couldn't watch, your eyes glued to the happily chattering little fire trying to drag something out of Joseph's body.

As grateful as you were to never have to worry about Joseph ever again, you weren't made of stone and your stomach churned when Kiki managed to pry loose whatever it was she was so intent on retrieving. When the object fell heavily to the ground, she evidently lost her grip as she went tumbling several feet, but she was up and making cheerful scolding chuffs of sound in an instant.

The little flame creature scampered in merry leaps around something that looked like a dark quartz stone a little smaller than a tennis ball, with jagged spikes of black glass sticking out of the top. You frowned in confusion when Kiki continued to make huffing and scoffing noises that you couldn't understand as she got behind the rock and started pushing it forward.

"Y/N?" Behind you, Bucky murmured your name in a voice gentle with sympathy. Whatever else Joseph had been, he was pretty sure the man hadn't deserved to die like that. If he'd had his way, Bucky would have moved more quickly and made the end much less painful. On top of that, he hated that you'd had to see your little friend do something so gruesome.

"Yeah?" You sounded weird, like you were both puzzled and worried, but you didn't turn to look at him, your gaze on the wild flickering of Kiki on the ground next to the charred remains of what was once Joseph.

Bucky reached out, hoping he was doing the right thing, and slid his arm around your waist to pull you in and cradle you against his body. "Are you okay?"

"I guess?" If you weren't so focused on Kiki, you'd have melted at the tenderness in his tone, in his touch. As it was, you snuggled back into him even as you craned your neck to try and see what the little flame was up to. "I don't know what Kiki is doing. Kiki!"

Kiki's head popped up and she scampered forward a couple feet and shouted happily, It's Grumble! She scampered back and climbed on top of the stone, her front limbs wrapped around a couple of the spikes on top. I found Grumble in the human demon!

"What the hell is Grumble?" Your hand came up to grip Bucky's where it rested against your hip. As you stepped forward to get a closer look at whatever Kiki had found, you pulled him with you by the hand you kept wrapped around his, needing him with you. Stopping at the edge of the porch at the top of the stairs, you watched Kiki playfully rock back and forth on top of her discovery.

The little flame made the popping sound that served as her most delighted laugh, something you'd heard only a couple of times since you'd met her. No! Not Grumble. Grumble! You could hear very little difference between the two sounds, the second only more intense in its rumbling sound.

"That sounds like the same word, Keek."

Kiki laughed again and rocked the stone as her little head tilted down and she chuffed and rumbled at the object beneath her fiery feet. I love it! She shouted it in her popping, crackling language. She sounded so happy, so relieved, you relaxed by a fraction, enough to be tempted when she continued, Come meet Grumble, then, and waved you forward with one arm of flame.

You looked at Bucky, who was watching you communicate with Kiki with a raised brow and ready stance, not sure the danger was as over as he had believed. "She found someone named something that sounds like her word for 'grumble'."

Bucky tensed and his gaze dropped to the happy, chuffing fire where it was perched. He didn't know exactly what Kiki was, or what all she could do, but for now she resembled a small four-legged creature with a diamond shaped head and long almond shaped eyes made of blue flame. She scorched the ground wherever she ran, and he wondered if this was now why she seemed content to sit on her rock. "Where did she find this someone?"

Your mouth spread in a sickly expression, but it could still be described as an attempt at a winning smile. “Inside Joseph?" When Bucky understood that this was what Kiki had been doing between pouring her fire into him and the bullet through the heart that had ended it, the horror of it hit him like a brick. He looked back to you to find the same horror in your eyes. "I think?"

Bucky couldn't stop looking back and forth between you and the happy little flame continuing to scold the thing beneath her feet. "What is it?"

It's Grumble. She patted her hand against the obsidian spike she was holding and her eyes squinched up in delight. He's mine. He followed me through the hole but got confused and hid inside the demon man because I aimed at him. With that she dropped down and seemed to hug the stone, her flame wrapping close with what looked like affection.

You smiled a little at her apparent joy. "Okay." Still, you needed to know more about whatever had followed her from her world. She'd told you stories of some of the things that lived there. "But what is Grumble? Like, you're made of fire. What is he made of?" You were getting more and more curious, but you didn't move down the stairs yet, not sure that it was safe.

Oh! Kiki sounded surprised at the question, looking down at the stone she was perched upon with a head tilted in confusion. When she looked back up at you, that tilted head was a counterpoint to her perplexed tone. He's rock. You could almost hear the 'duh' that came after that sentence and you snorted softly in amusement. That's why he was so hard to move. Her voice took on a gentle, loving tone, and you realized that whatever or whoever Grumble was, he was evidently precious to Kiki. He's stubborn. And he's scared.

As you started down the stairs, you heard for the first time a rumbling at frequencies at the bottom of the audible range. You almost more felt the sound than heard it, so low were the vaguely annoyed growling noises that had Kiki answering in a spitting, roaring language that sounded like an approximation of them.

You got to the bottom of the stairs, doing everything in your power to keep your eyes on Kiki and her rock and not on what used to be Joseph. Once there, Kiki's face spread in what she used for a smile as she looked up at you and patted the stone beneath her again and said proudly, Grumble.

As he couldn't understand her, you explained to Bucky. "Grumble is this rock."

"I kind of figured that out for myself, thanks."

You shot Bucky a laughing grin, loving the irritated scowl on his face, delighted that he was back to regarding the world with a vague distrust. "He's also alive, and Kiki's friend. He followed her here when she got caught in Joseph's portal."

Bucky pulled you close and slung an arm around you to keep you there. "Pretty good friend." He smirked at you when his almost suggestive tone had your eyes flicking to his. You smirked back in acknowledgement before turning your gaze back to the flame creature that was now making a soothing chirring sound.

"Is it okay if I pick him up?" you asked her, needing to get away from Joseph as soon as possible. "So we can go inside?"

The little fire chirped a cheerful assent and nodded before immediately looking down to scold when the rock gave off what sounded like a hostile rumble. Bucky’s arm around your shoulders tightened slightly in response, a little concerned by it, and unwilling to watch you step again into peril so soon after the last time. "Let me, doll." You quirked a questioning eyebrow in his direction and he turned you in his arms to lean forward and brush your lips with his own, the gratitude he felt at having you safe bright in his eyes. He rested his forehead against yours, relief blowing through him, and smiled gently at you. "You've put yourself in danger enough tonight. I'm already gonna have nightmares."

You heard the dregs of fear in his voice, saw the relief of it in his face, and knew something of what it had cost him to watch you walk out the door to face Joseph. "Between Kiki," you answered, turning your cheek to tenderly rest it against his, "and you, I was never in any real danger."

Bucky's arms came around you in a move both fast and fierce. The next moment you were pressed firmly against him. His face was buried in your throat while he shuddered once, hard, before his hold gentled, and his lips brushed your skin as he spoke. "Sure didn't feel like it."

You simply held on, giving him the moment he needed to calm himself. He held you a moment longer than that, just for the joy of having you close. When he let you go, he flashed that million-watt grin of his that hit you like lightning every time and bent to pick up the little rumbly stone with his vibranium hand.

Kiki hopped out of the way and skittered up the hand you'd held out to nestle into her spot behind your ear where she could watch your world from your perspective. She had bonded herself to the roots of your hair, which is why your head started to smoke when she got angry. She was always more comfortable when she was closer to your scalp. From her perch she hissed in an encouraging tone towards the rock grumbling in Bucky's hand.

Bucky's eyes were on the stone, his brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. He didn't look away when you took his hand and began moving up the stairs toward the house, too focused on the resentful grumbles of annoyance vibrating in his hand, up his arm and into his brain. He thought that if he just worked at it, he could come to understand what the different pulses and vibrations meant.

"We think he likes you." Your voice seemed to pop and growl in the same way Kiki had spoken to Grumble and drew Bucky's attention. While he'd been trying to understand the rumbles of the little stone in his hand, you'd led him to the front door and the unconscious body on the threshold. He bent and hauled the only cult member left up and over his shoulder with his free hand.

Bucky eased past you to carry Joseph's lieutenant to the kitchen, part of his attention still on the now curious purrs coming from Grumble. "Yeah. Cool." He was clearly distracted, and you wondered what about Kiki's friend had him so captivated. "Let's go call Steve so he can come clean this up."

"Actually," you said as you hopped up onto the kitchen counter to watch Bucky drop Brit to the floor, "I have a better idea."

By the time you made it back into bed, it was late morning, and you were unsteady on your feet, the weariness of the night having long since caught up with you. Still, your house was clean of Brit's presence and your yard of Joseph's body thanks to the phone call you'd made. You'd once done Maria Hill a favor and she was only too delighted to repay it. Even so odd a request hadn't fazed her when faced with the opportunity to no longer be in anyone's debt. Once Maria's crew had left, you and Bucky had been able to fall into bed in a tangled heap of relieved exhaustion.

If Maria'd had any questions about who had disabled and professionally restrained the tall and powerful person in your foyer, or about the bullet exactly through the heart of the incinerated corpse on your lawn, she kept them to herself. You imagined Nick Fury had already received a full and detailed report, but that was to be expected. You could only hope she was focused on you, considered it a small price to pay to distract them from Bucky's presence in your home.

Now that you'd found him, you would not give him up without a fight.

Bucky had stayed in the little library at the front of the second floor with Kiki and Grumble while you'd dealt with the people Maria had sent. Though he'd considered hiding in the forest during the clean-up, you'd been anxious at the thought. He couldn't stand to get that far away from you, not when he could so clearly see the worry in your eyes when he suggested it.

While he waited, he'd tried to communicate with Grumble. Something about the rumbling vibrations that came from the little stone resonated with his metal arm. If he focused on the sensory data he was getting from the vibranium, he could recognize tone and feeling. He would swear with practice he could truly communicate with the creature.

The clean-up took long enough that he got a little of that practice, was able to communicate enough reassurance to convince Grumble to open small, almond-shaped obsidian eyes. Those eyes had seemed to dart upward to the flame that popped and crackled on top of him. She whistled excitedly and, wrapping her arms of flame around his spikes, rocked him back and forth in what was clearly joy.

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at her antics, especially when he could feel Grumble's affection for her. He had placed one vibranium finger against one of the facets, could feel the relief, the gratitude underneath amused devotion, confirming Bucky's suspicions regarding their relationship. Whatever form it took, Grumble had followed Kiki because he loved her.

Bucky could understand that feeling easily. He understood now he would follow you into the jaws of hell if he had to.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Instead, he was laying on his side and nose to nose with you in the warmth of your bed and the only thing he cared about was hearing the words again. His arms were wrapped around you, his metal arm under your head, the other pressing you against him to feel your skin all over him.

Until he'd started sleeping in your bed, he hadn't realized how hungry he was for touch. Once he'd found the glory of your body warm and soft against his, he'd swiftly become obsessed. You were a feast to the famished, sweet and hot and delicious. His preference for having nothing between you whenever possible had been immediately apparent and something you indulged without comment. That silent acceptance inspired his everlasting gratitude as he hadn't known then how to tell you what it meant to him.

He knew now.

"Doll," his voice rumbled from his chest into yours and had you humming in pleasure and pressing closer, "I told you I wanted to talk about your timing." The feel of your body, warm and generous as you snuggled against his skin made both his body heat and his heart ache, and his hands smoothed over your skin in ways meant to make you shiver.

Your face melted into a bashful anxiety that made Bucky's heart pound like a drum. He couldn't believe that you could ever think that he'd be anything but endlessly thankful that you could feel a fraction of what he felt for you and he was terrified that you'd misunderstood. "Say it again, please," he whispered, his eyes burning like blue flames, "when there's time for me to say it back."

Your breath rushed out in relief, in joy, and your smile shone as your eyes blazed. You'd hoped the softness in his eyes had been reflecting his heart. "I love you, Bucky."

The sound of the words, the shape of them as they left your lips sent a feeling thrilling through his entire body, as though they had seeped beneath his skin and into the center of his being. His voice was hoarse with that desperate emotion when he answered. "I love you, too."

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours and he was taking your breath away. You let him, not needing air when you were breathing his breath, breathing him. Your body already yearning to his, your skin set aflame everywhere he touched, you gave yourself up to his embrace with nothing held back.

Bucky was drowning in you, in the soft warmth you'd shown him from the first time, gladly going under. He loved to hear the words, but now that he knew the name of the emotion that left your mouth so soft against his, he had to keep tasting it on your tongue. Your hands were as fervid as your mouth in their race over his skin, as greedy as your lips as they fed from his. The feeling went to his head and soaked into his body to make him ache with a joyous kind of need. The sound of your pleasure in your throat seemed to resonate with his bones.

His lips left yours to press to the pulse in your throat, wanting both the taste of your skin and the thump of your heart, glorying in the temptation of your voice. "I think my luck changed, too,” you murmured.

Bucky's body seemed to clench in reaction to the ache in your tone and he rolled until he was stretched out on top of you, his hips between your thighs, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. He was smiling sweetly as he brushed his lips over yours, but that smile turned sly as he bent to kiss your neck again. "I met your ex. Your luck completely changed."

The feel of your laughter vibrating in your throat under his lips sent a rush through him, lust and love tangled together to keep his touch tender even as his hands began to wander to incite, to arouse.

Skin to skin and heart to heart, you were soon entwined and rocking toward ecstasy. Always a joyous experience, your joining was even sweeter, now that you had given each other the love you’d both been holding back. The words were as sweet on your lips as they were to his ear when you whispered them as you quaked in pleasure. His arms enveloped you and the choked cry of your name had your hands gliding over him to hold him through his own rapture.

A long time later, once he’d adored you to his own exacting standards, pleasuring you thoroughly and doing all he could to erase the memory of the night before from both your minds, you lay boneless and satisfied in each other’s arms.

“I kind of feel weird about what we just did.” His voice was low and raspy and made you shiver agreeably. His tone was so quiet and calm, it didn’t break the silence as much as it dismissed it. You marveled at the fact that your body was utterly exhausted and still yearned. Even now you could want him. “You know, with them here.”

You glanced at the nightstand where Kiki lay curled up on top of Grumble, both ostensibly asleep. You could still feel the gentle hum of her awareness in the back of your mind, however, and knew she was still half-awake. You smiled and turned back to Bucky to nuzzle his mouth with your own.

"Kiki lives at the roots of my hair; she's seen it." You'd used up what little energy you had and let your head fall back to the pillow. Bucky, on the other hand, lifted his head to stare at you as you continued. "They're not interested, I promise." His look of mildly horrified confusion made you snort, but you answered defensively. "She sets fires if she just wanders around freely. This is the first time she's been able to hang out somewhere else."

"She lives in your hair?" You laughed out loud at the tone of his voice, rich with baffled shock, and the worried eyes that raked the top of your head as he craned his neck to see your scalp. "Doesn't that hurt?"

You were still laughing as you lifted one heavy arm to draw his head down to yours for a long, tender kiss. You should have known that his one worry would be for your safety, your comfort. This was why you'd fallen in love with the man, the generous heart that beat so true beneath that delightfully gruff exterior.

Your voice was a little breathless from the kiss when it broke, but still soft with remorse. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her, about Joseph, any of it." That remorse also softened your mouth as it brushed over his beautiful face. "At first it was because I promised to keep her secret, then it was because I was afraid."

Bucky appreciated the apology but considered it unnecessary as he could easily understand your reticence considering the circumstances. Even if he wanted to be angry, he was pretty sure that was impossible with you soft and warm in his arms, with your gentle mouth brushing love into his skin. He should probably be concerned that you had such a hold on him, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Snuggling you closer, he smoothed his palm slowly up your spine as he closed his eyes to better appreciate the sensation of your skin against his. "Afraid of what?" He murmured the question, and you could feel in the way he pressed you closer that he was wondering if he had the energy to love you one more time. Alas, you were pretty sure you did not, but that didn't stop your heart from kicking like it was willing to find out.

You used the arm you'd slid around his waist to pull yourself tightly against him so that you could bury your face in his neck. His palm was just rough enough to send shivers through you as he skimmed it over your skin. "That it would be too much, too weird." You smiled against his throat when he scoffed. "I have custody of a fire elemental. She's kind of a lot."

Bucky scoffed harder and rolled his eyes as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. "I'm an international fugitive because I spent the last several decades a brainwashed assassin." His hand had reached the nape of your neck, only to turn and start the path back down, his touch both soothing and tender. "That's kind of a lot, too, but you don't seem to mind."

You sighed in pleasure, in contentment, and let your eyes drift closed. The warmth of his body, the smooth skim of his skin over yours, the rumble of his voice as he spoke all combined to leave you boneless and sleepy in his arms. "I knew what I was getting into," you murmured and the beginning of a slur to your tone alerted Bucky to your fading consciousness.

He smiled and felt the last of his own tension start to fade. If you were as happily content as your body seemed to communicate as you rested so trustingly against him, he saw no need to stay on guard. He let himself relax and enjoy the sensation of love and safety that had been so rare in his life until he met you. "You were on fire the first time I saw you," he reminded you gently, smiling at the memory now that he knew how truly safe from the fire he was. "I wasn't exactly in the dark."

You tilted your head back so that you could look into his face. His mouth was soft with affection, his blue eyes bright behind lowered lids. The way-past-five-o'clock-shadow darkening his features only added to the deliciously dangerous look of him. The sight of him made your heart race and your throat swell. A little breathless with it, with him, you kissed him gently. "I love you."

Bucky's grin flashed, dazzling white against the dark of his stubble. "I will never get tired of hearing that." His pretty lips brushed yours once, twice, before he gave in and sank into a long, tender kiss. When he raised his head again, your eyes fluttered open to meet icy blue hot with emotion. "I love you, too, doll."

Your face lit up with a bright and happy smile that made Bucky feel ten feet tall. When you snuggled into his arms and closed your eyes with a sigh of contentment, seemingly determined to fall asleep in his arms, he simply adjusted to maximize the comfort of you both and prepared to follow you into dreamland.

Just as his eyes were falling closed, Bucky's gaze landed on the little stone that had followed Kiki into this world. The vibrations that seemed to resonate with his arm and into his brain were still causing questions to chase each other in circles around his mind. There was only one person he would consider trusting with this secret, and she was also the only person who understood vibranium well enough to answer any of those questions.

"How do you feel about international travel?" His voice was loud enough to keep you from sliding into sleep, but still a low, sexy rumble. If only you could stay awake. "I know someone who would kill to meet Grumble."

You snorted, softly, and turned to rub your face against the skin of his collarbones, basking in him. "Let me know when you convince Grumble and I'm in." Your mouth twisted sardonically against his chest, even as you started to relax back into sleep. It was impossible to stay awake when your worst enemy was dead, your worst worries were over, and you were safe and comfortable in the arms of the sweetest man you'd ever known. "Then we can all try to convince Kiki."

Bucky couldn't resist the siren song of the softness of your body, bonelessly trusting, nor that of a deep and dreamless sleep that he knew would be his reward for getting you through the crisis safe and sound. "Will that be difficult?"

"She's paranoid and temperamental." Bucky could hear a small, half-hearted hiss coming from the direction of the nightstand. That hiss prompted a forceful and challenging change to your tone. "Yes. Unless Grumble has some ability to persuade that we don't, it will be very difficult."

Next came a sound like a small tumble of gravel, but the little clacks of rock against each other had such an amused tone to it, you couldn't help but hear it. Bucky laughed out loud, as he could hear the smug assurance underneath the laughter and knew Grumble was perfectly capable of persuading Kiki. Her hissing denial was clearly weak to everyone in the room, and it was clear she was as smitten with Grumble as he with her.

Though the little flame sounded irritated, you could hear the reluctant amusement mixed with attraction in the back of your mind and wondered what Kiki saw when she looked at the other creature. Whatever it was, she was as caught in her sexy, grumpy partner as you were in yours.

Bucky grinned at you, thoroughly familiar with the feeling of smug amusement he was getting from Grumble, since he got to experience it every time you lost your train of thought looking at him. You grinned back, reluctantly amused by the arrogance all over him, and thinking you and Kiki had a lot more in common than you'd thought.

The End

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #short series #and hell is just a sauna #pantswrites

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they-dont-get-my-back · 4 years ago

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A customer (Chapter 1 out of 2)

Protagonists: Jeno Lee, original character, NCT Dream members mentioned Genre: mystery, noir, self-knowledge “Jeno wanders to a mysterious bookstore where he encounters even more mysterious individual, but somewhere deep down Jeno knows that this story is actually only about him.” TW: none

See other members’ stories here:

TBA

Author’s note: When I saw this particular moodboard, an idea sparked inside my mind. With a constant support from my friends, I finally finished the first half of the story that I am presenting to you now. Thank you for your love and kindness, this is for you, I hope you’ll like it :) Special thanks to Woo and Volpe for proofreading <3

Any feedback, reactions, comments, recommendations or ideas for other members’ stories are welcomed, I wouldn’t mind turning this into a series.

Tagging: @neocluefor , @your-local--trashcan Let me know if you want to be added!

A dark, dim evening, the sun had just set, bits of the dusky orange sky shone through the maze of power lines, chimneys, rooftops and posts. As Jeno was walking down an empty tucked away backstreet, he felt like he set foot on a hidden crossroad between two worlds. The feeling of the unknown and the unexplored sent shivers down his spine and he quickened his pace, as he did not wish to get held up at here any longer than necessary. He told his manager he just wanted to grab something warm to eat and stretch his legs a little, but the truth was… He wanted to be alone.

Not so long ago Jeno realised he has a very rare gift – a gift of invisibility. Wherever he’d go, no matter how many people surrounded him, he felt unseen and unnoticed. Jeno, we need you to voice over this ad. Jeno, we need you to shoot a dance video. Jeno, we need you to smile for the photos. No, no, do the thing with your eyes, yes. Oh, you’re still here? We don’t need anything now. Sorry, were you saying something? Listen I gotta go, talk to you later maybe? Everyone knows Jeno the idol, but how many people have heard of Jeno the person? How many people remember Jeno the friend from school, Jeno the boy next door? What’s the point of rushing back into dorms, if he’s going to feel all the same? At least at here I can hear my own thoughts for a change. Without having to fight to get a word in. Noone’s interested in what you have to say anyway, so be a man, Jeno, and go sulk somewhere where people don’t have to look at your sorry face. Hmm, jjamppong sounds nice.

He walked where his feet led him, hands in the pockets of his coat, eyes staring blankly on the passing pavement tiles, red tiles, black tiles, grey tiles, shapes and figures, forms and contours. His mind unfocused, his thoughts scattered. Stop. Wait. Like in a dream, he saw himself standing in front of a narrow door, black paint flaking away, a few variously shaped and randomly placed yellow window panes, a big brass handle waiting to be pulled. He noticed a little oval plaque in his field of vision and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a bookshop. A minute passed, maybe ten, maybe an hour. Jeno glanced around, scratching his head. „Uh… good evening!“ He bowed his head a little, even though he didn’t see anyone at the counter. Nevertheless, he felt like he’s being watched, scrutinized, evaluated. Something was staring at him and Jeno suddenly wished that he was invisible again. He turned his head to where he felt the uncomfortable feeling coming from and there it was - behind the desk, on the left side of the wall, squished between large overflowing bookcases, right next to a tall wooden coat-stand shaped like an old tree - a red door with a big round opened eye painted on it. The door was opened, just a few centimetres, and a faint piano music was coming from inside. Come in, if you dare.

Jeno cleared his throat. Might as well look around properly, before they come back out. It’s no use of shouting or trying to make myself heard while that song is still playing. Listening to the melancholic but somewhat promising tune, Jeno inspected the surroundings. The shop looked messy and untidy. Chaos was the king of this castle, carelessness the lady of this household and together they ruled over their tiny land made of heaps of books, magazines and papers haphazardly placed on each other, shelves full of postcards and pictures, walls covered with ornaments and embellishments. Without a single tag or label in sight, Jeno wondered how could anyone find anything in here. He imagined the miscellaneous objects flowing into the shop and never leaving again. His gaze landed on a flashy pink paper packet filled with chewing gums in a no less showy wrapper on one of the shelves. Cool, a freebie! He reached for the gum, unpacked it and threw it into his mouth only to immediately pull a disgusted face as he chewed into the candy. It was like biting into a tasteless rubber. He spit it back out into the crumpled wrapper, put it next to the rest of the unused gums and set out to look for a trash can. He tripped on the thick dusty carpet and nearly stepped on something that looked rather expensive. This must be a bookshop with super rare prints and antiquities of some kind, this isn’t a place for me, I don’t fit in here, I should leave. And so, he stayed, bound in the place by a force of increasing curiosity he did not quite understand.

The piano stopped playing. Perfect, now’s my chance. „Hello? You, uh, have a customer! Heh…“ he stuttered awkwardly. Jeno wasn’t the type of a person who would enjoy excessive attention. If he ever tried to voice his opinion and was met with disregard or unconcern, he would simply think it was because his opinion on that matter was stupid and pointless. That’s why he was fairly used to this, not being heard. The only difference was that usually the rest of the members would fill the room with their chatter, so his lack of involvement in the group activities would normally go unnoticed. Unlike here, where the only sound was a deathly silence and Jeno’s thoughts humming in his head. He already spoke twice, what more does he need to do to be heard? Raise his voice? I just want to buy a book and get out of here. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak and right at that moment, the piano started playing again.

„Wha-, are you kidding me?“ he mumbled quietly under his breath. He looked around, confused, as if he was looking for understanding and sympathy from the other angry customers waiting for their turn to be served. He was the only one here and yet they’re making him wait. What is this, a private concert? Did they possibly saw him coming? Did they think that they’ll impress him with playing lowkey creepy piano melodies? This better not be a prank. He really wasn’t in the mood for fans and he didn’t think he could fake a smile at this hour. But he didn’t notice any hidden cameras, or any security cameras at all for that matter. He paced around the room nervously, scratching his neck. That’s it, I’m leaving. I don’t need that book anyway. I don’t need anything. If they don’t want me here, that’s okay, I’ll do just fine on my own.

He made a few strides towards the front door and then turned around again. „Hellooo! I came here to ask about books! Books that you happen to be selling!“ he raised his voice to the most pleading yet still polite level. The piano stopped again and Jeno gazed hopefully at the red door. He started walking back to the counter, slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t want to scare off the possibility of finally being served. He leaned on the desk, ready to place his order, tapping his fingers impatiently on the dark wooden surface. And just like that, as if it wanted to laugh directly into Jeno’s face, the piano started playing yet another tune, as impatient as Jeno himself. He pursed his lips and bent his head down. What the heck is this place, huh? A bookstore or a concert venue? At least serve some coffee and cake next time! He could just leave, never come back and forget about this place. But he really needed that book, he’s been looking for it so long, and he knew, he just knew, that this is the right place to look for it.

„Alright!“ Jeno raised his head and pointed his index finger to the door, from which the music was coming. „I’m going in there! And I’m going to knock real loud, so you better not be scared or surprised or angry!“ I doubt they can hear me, he thought, as the music only grew louder and louder. Okay, here we go… He approached the door behind the counter, cautiously, and with his finger still pointing forwards he tapped on the red wood with his nail a few times, gingerly, like he was expecting the door to bite his hand, after a while he shook his head and finally made a few feeble knocks. He put his head inside with a quiet: „Excuse me…“ and peeped into the backroom. As soon as his foot touched the threshold, the music stopped playing and Jeno opened the door wide. The room was small and empty, safe for the piano by the wall. No other door, windows, cabinets, electrical appliances, boxes, merchandise, not even trash. Just four bare walls and the damn piano that he swore was playing just a mere second ago.

Jeno gulped, his hand on the doorknob, his feet midstep, his whole body ready to run in the even that something would go wrong. Now now, be brave. „Hello?“ his voice was dry, hoarse and small. Goosebumps covered his nape. „Oh! A customer!“ said a voice behind him. „JESUS CHRIST!“ Jeno nearly fell back onto the ground, as he made several hurried steps backwards, tripping over boxes, books and papers, knocking over the tree coat-stand which embraced him in its patulous grip, making him feel trapped. „Can I help you?“ said the voice and as Jeno’s ragged breath started to decelerate again and as the stars stopped dancing in front of his eyes, only now he saw a pale face hovering in the shadows of the dimly lit place. The initial shock was over and, gradually, the face grew hair, and connected with a torso, arms and legs. „I…“ Jeno stuttered as he finally untangled himself from the clasp of the coat-stand and stood straight, „came here to buy a book.“ He clutched his hand near his heart and blinked hard for a few times. Get a grip, man, get a grip. „Then you’re in the right place! After all, this is a bookstore and we store all kinds of books,“ smiled the face that no longer resembled a ghost, but a person. „I’ve been… waiting here for 15 minutes… at least.“ He tried to sound angry, but the truth was he wasn’t really sure of how much time he actually spent here. Oh my god. A thought just crossed his mind. What if they’re already closed and I didn’t notice and just practically barged in here demanding to be served?!?! He wiped his forehead and opened his mouth to apologize for his intrusion, but before he could say anything, the figure in front of him spoke again. „Gosh, but I didn’t hear or see you at all!“ said the person, covering their red coloured lips with their hand. Typical. „I… tried to…“ Jeno sighed. If they didn’t hear me, I should have made more effort I guess. „I apologize, I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused you.“ He bowed his head slightly. The person, dressed in a silky black dress that rustled with every step, fixed their dark eyes on Jeno’s apologetic face and shook their head disappointedly. They passed Jeno, who hurriedly backed out of their way, bumping into the red door, oh, I could have sworn the eye was open. huh, weird, and started to rummage through the bookshelves and bookcases, opening drawers and cabinets, dancing around all the clutter with their feet bare, without knocking over a single thing.

„So?“ asked the bookstore owner, combing through a particularly overflowing drawer. „Sorry?“ „Which book are you looking for?“ Jeno resisted the urge to facepalm himself and laughed nervously instead. „Ah, the book…“ Wait, the book? What book? „Umm… the book,“ he frowned. Why is he here again? He finished his schedule, yes, and then got out of the car sooner than the rest, because…? Because I wanted to buy a book? Uhh… I guess? „Um, yeah, I was hoping to get a book about the history of-“ „Hey!“ the character was now standing in the middle of the room, their arms crossed in an irritated manner, the long red painted nails tapping angrily. „Did you eat my chewing gum?“ You IDIOT! And you even left the wrapper and the actual gum right there on the shelf, ugh! „I’m really sorry,“ Jeno started apologizing at the double, „it was just sitting there, I thought-“ „How did it taste?“ asked the owner. „Um…“ Jeno blinked a few times and frowned. „Weird,“ he answered, looking down at his feet, like he was feeling guilty and disappointed at the same time. „I remember really liking this brand and it surprised me that is tasted so… stale,“ he answered truthfully. The woman sighed. „No wonder. It’s a special edition, a collectible. It’s been sitting here for five years. And now it’s ruined.“ She took the whole package in her hands and shook her head, discontented. Who the hell stores a pack of freaking chewing gums? „I guess I should have treated it better, maybe all the exposure made it tasteless and bland.“ She clicked her tongue. „What a shame. But at least the wrapping is still colourful and pretty to look at.“ „Uh… yeah. Sorry about that.“ She put the gums back in place and resumed with the thorough scouring of the area. „What book did you say you wanted?“ Oh, yeah, the book. The damn book again. „Ah, yeah, um… I was interested in the techniques of-“ „How about this one?“ The woman, currently kneeling down by one of the huge bookcases, proposed. Jeno stared at her, eyes wide. She reached under the furniture, scrabbled and felt around a bit, until she triumphantly retrieved a blue hardback tome. Just what is going on in here?

Jeno watched the woman get up again, dust down her knees with a sigh, and then walk back behind the counter. She put the book on the desk and Jeno finally got a good look. The jacket was dusty, creased and torn in a few places. There were no pictures or details, it was just… blue. „Sound…” he read out loud. „Sound?“ Jeno raised an eyebrow. „That’s the title, yes.“ „It looks like a… heavy reading.“ He took the book in his hands to weigh it, it must be at least 500 pages long. „And pretty expensive.“ „It’s a poetry book, if you’re worried about the pages. And you don’t have to pay me for it.“ „Ah, I-… Wait, what? You don’t want me to pay you for it?“ „No, because I am not selling it to you. I’ll only let you borrow it. I‘ve always wanted to read it, because I am curious about the story, but… Do you sometimes get the feeling, be it a book, a movie, a photograph, or even a new pair of shoes, that it’s calling out to you? And when you finally get it, it’s like it’s your missing puzzle piece that you didn’t even know you need and it makes you complete?“ „I… guess, yeah.“ But not really, no. I can’t remember the last time I had this feeling. „Well, turns out, this book doesn’t complete me.“ She packed it in a plain paper bag and sealed it with a decorative tape. „But it might complete you,“ the owner said expectantly, sliding the wrapped book towards Jeno. He touched the paper and for a while, the room drowned in complete silence and time stopped, like a movie that froze and only showed a single frame. A frame with a book wrapped in a plain paper bag in the center, a woman’s hand with red fingernails touching it on the right, a man’s veined hand touching it on the left. Jeno’s hand.

He moved his fingers the tiniest bit and with them, the book. His body was immediately hit with a wave of electricity, the time unfroze and Jeno sighed heavily, leaning against the counter, like he just ran a hurdle race. „Will that be all?“ asked the owner with a kind smile. „I… can’t just take it.“ „You already did.“ She pointed towards the book Jeno was hugging anxiously, like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. He looked down, sighed again and finally stood up straight again. „I can’t take it for free. Even though I’m just borrowing it. How do you know I won’t run off with it?“ „Are you a thief?“ „No, but… I could be!“ „Well, in that case… How about you leave something behind then, like a pledge? I quite like the ring of yours,“ she pointed on Jeno’s hand, which he quickly pulled away. „That’s… it’s not anything fancy, and it’s bent, twisted… it’s worthless.“ „I’ll lend you a thing that’s worthless to me and you’ll lend me a thing that’s worthless to you. That’s a fair deal I’d say.“ She held out her hand. Jeno hesitated. What will the others think when he comes back without his friendship ring? They probably won’t even notice. „Alright…“ he took off the ring and rolled it around for a bit in his hand. Then, with a guilty feeling, he placed it in the owner’s hand, immediately regretting his decision. „Thank you for your purchase, have a nice day and see you whenever!“ he heard the woman say with a smile, pocketing the ring quickly. Then the door behind him shut with a loud bang and he was staying outside, with a book he didn’t know he needed and without a ring he didn’t remember wearing.

#Lee Jeno #Jeno #NCT Jeno #NCT #NCT Dream #NCT fanfic #Jeno fanfic #NCT scenarios #NCT Dream scenarios #my writing

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angelharness · 5 years ago

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DBD Killers as Yandere Archetypes

WARNINGS: yandere content

Not a request, but more so a graph I made while stuck in a bad mix of boredom and curiosity. Wanted to delve into the Killers as they’d fit in the ‘yandere’ trope, specifically what subsets they’d be (or archetypes, more accurately).

Foreword that I doubt I’ll write something of this nature in the future (unless explicitly a commission) as I’m not entirely comfortable with the matter. It’s very important to recognize this characterization as unhealthy and to never enable such behavior in any real relationships.

Will be sorting each killer into seven classes, including Isolating, Manipulative, Dependent, Possessive, Obsessive, Delusional, and Lucid

The definitions vary greatly depending on the Killer, while some may not fit an archetype listed, or could be a hybrid of any number of them. It’s also very possible for them to fit multiple subcategories.

For reference, a general key would be

Isolating - (Usually gradually) cuts off s/o from their friends and family, secluding them and asserting themselves as their only social contact. Goal is perhaps to make s/o reliant on them.

Manipulative - Fairly straightforward, though the means of manipulation vary. Often emotionally controlling. Might resort to guilting the s/o or self-destructive tendencies to get them to stay. Goal is to assert control over s/o.

Dependent - Depends on s/o for stability or comfort. Might suffer from separation anxiety and as such is terribly clingy. Often ignores other social ties to focus on their s/o. No implicit goal, but usually wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Possessive - Similar to Manipulative and often a package deal. Would under no circumstances share their s/o, likely frets over losing them (perhaps to romantic rivals or even misguidedly anyone they falsely deem a threat). Goal is to assert control over s/o.

Obsessive - Not necessarily Possessive, though the two sometimes come together. An Obsessive might not outwardly act on their fixation, but silently pines intensely for their s/o. Fixates heavily on their s/o. Goal is to become closer to the person of interest, or wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Delusional - Hard opposite of Lucid. They likely wrongly believe their feelings are reciprocated, believe them and their s/o are meant to be, or that their s/o is in denial of their feelings and it’s up to them to help them realize this. No implicit goal, but usually wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Lucid - Hard opposite of Delusional. Well aware that their feelings are unhealthy and destructive, but usually represses these thoughts or simply doesn’t care. Might feel guilt, but it’s often overshadowed by longing. May have any of the formerly listed goals.

EVAN MACMILLAN / THE TRAPPER

Lucid, Possessive

Right off the bat can tell there’s something harmful about his feelings. They’re too heavy, intense; he’s wary of scaring you off, but once you establish a relationship you’re pretty much trapped, and he’s sure to make this known. He’ll sever any means of escape and isn’t terribly against offing any other persons he perceives as a threat. This might be as minor of an offense as another survivor expression concern for your situation.

PHILIP OJOMO / THE WRAITH

Obsessive, Lucid

Will largely attempt to repress his feelings, sensing that it can’t quite be healthy. He considers himself too horrible of a person to ever be able to offer you a stable relationship, so he pines from afar. It aches endlessly, but he is unlikely to act on his emotions. This might come to be self-destructive, and you’ll find he lashes out at you in an attempt to distance the two of you. For your sake, he convinces himself.

SALLY SMITHSON / THE NURSE

Delusional

Her time in the fog is washed intensely in delusion. She believes, though her method cruel and unforgiving, her intentions are good-natured. The same will apply for any romantic feelings. It’s impossible to reason with her mindset, soiled with delirium, and she’ll shut down any arguments with the accusation that you’re the delusional one; she only wants to help. You’re callous, pushing her away, she convinces herself.

MICHAEL MYERS / THE SHAPE

Possessive

He’s hard to figure out. He keeps his intentions unknowable, preferring that power over you. Feeds from your unease, and thrives off of displays of fear. He wants a reaction, that much is obvious, and no means are excessive to get that out of you. It is unavoidable that he will eventually tire of you; when you spend so long jabbing at your food with a fork, it gets cold. When that time comes, he’ll rid of you lethally.

HERMAN CARTER / THE DOCTOR

Lucid, Manipulative

Well aware his feelings could quickly become dangerous, though doesn’t find himself caring an awful lot. He has way too much fun messing with you, making you doubt yourself, him, others. Might also be categorized as the type to isolate you, purposefully confining you, starving you of interaction beyond him. His end goal is to make you entirely and completely reliant on him, though finds the process more exciting than the desired objective.

ANNA / THE HUNTRESS

Possessive, Isolating

To a certain degree she is definitely delusional, but I wouldn’t consider it severe enough to categorize her as such. She recognizes your fear, though believes it’s something that can be overcome with a lot of pushing. In that regard, she's impatient, and is swift to become frustrated at an immediate lack of progress. Oblivious to why you would ever need anyone else beyond her; she supplies all you’d require.

BUBBA SAWYER / THE CANNIBAL

Dependent, Possesive

Partly delusional, but knows you’re unwilling. Still, relies on you for a feeling of normalcy, that distant echo of a real, functional relationship. Couldn’t bear the thought of you with anyone else, so much he might resort to threats of violence to coerce you into staying. Whether these are empty or significant falls on you to figure out. Liable to tantrums when you’re away, though the severity of these outbursts is determined by his current stability.

AMANDA YOUNG / THE PIG

Lucid, Manipulative

Fairly coherent regarding her emotions, though this regulation never translates into her actions, which are twisted by impulse and anxieties. Unintentionally incredibly manipulative, will very quickly turn to self-destructive exploits to gain your sympathy and convince you to stay. Eventually, she stops caring if you’re only sticking around out of a feeling of necessity. If you ever show intent to leave, though, she’d panic. Can’t conceive a life without you now that she’s met you.

RIN YAMAOKA / THE SPIRIT

Dependent, Manipulative

Another case of unintentional manipulation. On the verge of lucidity, but blinded by the hunger for comfort and stability you offer her. If she feels you’re losing interest, may also fall back on harmful habits, though herself isn’t certain if it’s a cry for recognition or a method of escapism. Horrified of losing you, and it’s very clear that’s the case, however she tries to subdue such feelings. Becomes incredibly reliant on you very quickly. Fixates on any acts of kindness.

THE LEGION

FRANK

Possessive

Possessive through and through. I can’t really see him fall into any of the other categories much, but may also employ a bit of manipulation, usually in the field of threats against loved ones. It’s never clear if he’d follow through on these remarks, but given his impulsivity and history of spontaneous violence, you’d prefer not to risk it. Intensely against you socializing outside of the Legion, where he trusts them immensely and sometimes relies on them to keep you in check.

JULIE

Possessive, Isolating

Can be likened to Frank, but will never entirely trust you around the rest of the Legion; she loves them so, but is dazed in her worries of losing you. Often lashes out at them, all in her desperation to confine you to her. Never above physical threats if it means you staying. Her capacity for guilt will gradually thin, though there are moments, glimpses of lucidity where she reflects inconsolably over her actions. It all falls into a cycle, though, and she traps herself in a descending spiral.

JOEY

Lucid, Possessive

His descent is a gradual, aching one. He watches passively as he careens into devastating obsession, worsening but with no will to stop it. Like Julie, he adores the family he’s established in the Legion, but can’t stand the possibility of losing you to one of them. It would be more personally crushing, so he figures he’d rather be safe than sorry. Calmer than Frank, but not entirely beyond threats of violence if he felt the situation called for it.

SUSIE

Obsessive, Dependent

Lucid to a degree; she’s never been in a relationship herself, and the possibility of a stable one now is unfeasible in these circumstances, but she’s witnessed enough to understand there’s something profusely wrong with her feelings. Eventually, her mood will come to depend heavily on yours, and how you treat her. Praise and displays of affection make her day, though alternatively, something as simple as a drop in tone can ruin her entirely.

ADIRIS / THE PLAGUE

Possessive, Delusional

Adiris is not delusional in the sense of wrongly believing you return her feelings, but instead, ignores the possibility entirely. She’s banished the notion from her mind, naively trusting that you love her wholly and unquestioningly. It will take time for her to view you as equal and acknowledge you have needs separate from her; she prefers the bliss of complete control over you. She finds comfort in her ignorance, and would never want to trade that for the much more bitter reality.

DANNY JOHNSON / THE GHOST FACE

Lucid, Possessive

Absolutely aware of the unhealthy nature of his emotions, though thrives off the high of it. As time goes on, he needs more and more to reach that pleasure again, until he’s wrung you dry, left you empty and disjointed, and no longer sees a use in you. Views you as a beloved item, and treats you as he pleases, which is dictated by his mood (which itself fluctuates sharply). Threats are abundant but sporadic; you could be having a nice dinner and he’d flip out a knife and direct it at your neck.

CALEB QUINN / THE DEATHSLINGER

Possessive

Does not exactly view you as an object or possession as much as he views you as just his. Wants you to be reliant, and never expects you to stray far from his side. He’ll show you off to the other killers, boasting, going on about how obedient you are, no matter if you express discomfort; he laughs it off coldly. Quickly gets frustrated at any acts he might consider instances of disobedience or defiance. Relies heavily on threats, and he can get intense.

PYRAMID HEAD / THE EXECUTIONER

Possessive

He is an intriguing case. The only real category I could see him falling into is possessive, where in his head you belong to him and in return, he is to protect you. If he failed that task, the only reasonable response would be punishment. Similarly, if you exhibit a lack of faith, he’ll supply discipline as he sees fit. There’s no way out once you take that plunge; a beast that can’t perish and a realm that won’t let you die sets up an eternal commitment.

#dbd imagine #dbd x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher x s/o #slashers x you #reader insert #x reader #horror x reader #villain x reader #cw yandere #💾:harpy writez

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whitherwhence · 4 years ago

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Monstrous May Challenge, Day 9: The Undead

The Presence

An herb-woman moves into a little house, and finds it might not be as vacant as it had seemed. What’s it like to live with someone who has neither a form you can see nor a voice you can hear? f/?. 1854 words.

cw: mild non-sexual dubious consent (specifically for chaste touching that can’t be anticipated)

“Will you stay?” she asked to the darkened room, “I mean, will you come to bed?” She was being courageous, she thought, and she couldn’t mess this up. Not this. She adjusted the pillows again and budged over, just enough to make it clear where they could go, if they wanted. If they wanted as much as she wanted.

It had been only about half a year now since Jane had moved into the empty little house and had set about making it comfortable for herself. She’d fixed the drafty front door and replaced the crumbling kitchen sink right away, and then slowly brightened the place with paint on the walls and polish on the floors and flowers in the window boxes. There was a loft built in, almost certainly to be used as a bedroom, but she was never completely comfortable up there at the top of the sturdy ladder. That was fine. It was a small house, but there was enough room for her bed to stay on the ground with her writing desk and tiny kitchen table and big cushioned chair by the wood-burning stove.

A week into making her home here, Jane was out behind the house, clearing out what looked to be an old, makeshift garden bed. It was hard to tell what it had been used for, as it was so overgrown with weeds, so she decided to build a separate one for her herbs. She was debating how many of the long weeds to dig up and how many to keep, because really the leaves and blossoms were quite pretty to look at, but she didn’t want them to creep too far and take over, as weeds are wont to do. She was just thinking she could put a few wildflowers in with the weeds, something the bees would like, when she felt it.

It felt like… curiosity? She knew very well the sensation of being watched. But it wasn’t coming from the path, or the trees, or down on the road below. Was it coming from the house? That couldn’t be right. Jane would know if a stranger was in her house, she’d made sure of that. But it was coming from the house, the feeling, the curious gaze.

The first time she found something on the kitchen table, one of the pretty weed blossoms, she frowned. But she tried to quickly shake it off, because she had been ever so tired when she came in at dusk the evening before, so worn out from her duties in town — maybe she had picked it on her way in? But… why would she go all the way around to the back of the house before coming in, and how did she forget doing it? She looked around to the front door, to her spring coat hanging on the hook and her muddy boots neatly placed underneath, to her chest of vials and jars, to the dishes she had washed and set to dry last night, to the book resting on the arm of her chair, everything where she’d left it. No sign of an intruder. There was nothing for it, so she shrugged and put the weed in some water and put it back on the table. The only thing tall enough she had was a glass bottle, and it looked nice enough, but she still made a note to look for something nicer in town.

Three days later, it was a small stone. It was lovely, a dark rust color and all jagged edges — perhaps from the garden? — so she set it in a tiny dish, a charming thing she’d gotten from the town potter.

It was a flower the third time, one from the window boxes. It was too short for her new vase, but it looked nice in a teacup. As she carried it over to her desk, where she’d be writing letters for most of the day, she mused aloud, “I haven’t left anything out for them, but maybe some nice brownies have come to stay?” She had only been joking, but there was a loud thud from the loft, like one of her small storage trunks had been pushed over, and she thought better of it. So. Probably not brownies, then.

Every few days or so, she’d find on her kitchen table a weed blossom or stone or leaf or fern frond or flower, something from outside, something from in the back garden, but not beyond. After the fourth time, she started saying a quiet thank you to the… the room. After the sixth time, she started blushing.

Sometime after the wildflowers started blooming in the old garden bed, and her herbs started thriving in the new one, she introduced herself to the air inside the house. “I don’t know if you know, if I’ve said, but I’m called Jane.” She felt a bit silly after she said it, but it seemed important.

She could feel the curious gaze on her from time to time, she could feel that she was being looked at by something or someone, and she felt it especially when she spoke aloud or hummed to herself as she worked. She didn’t know what to call it, but at some point she started thinking of it as the Presence, and thinking of the Presence as them.

Occasionally, a spoon would clatter in the drying rack, or the papers on her desk would shuffle just slightly, or a couple of glass vials would clink against each other, or a candle flame would gutter and blink and then grow tall and then gutter again. Once (but only once), an herb bundle she had hung to dry came untied, and the stems scattered on the floor. It was always something small, a slight push of something physical. She didn’t know what that was about, if they were testing the objects they could move, or if they were trying to get her attention. Either way, she gave it. “Good morning,” she’d say to what she hoped was their general direction, or, “I’m going to town tomorrow and won’t be back till late,” or, “Hmm, have you seen my shears? I put them right here,” and eventually, “Hello, dear.” She hoped it wasn’t too forward.

The soft touches came on so gradually that Jane wasn’t sure what she was feeling at first. More often than not, the touch was to one of her arms. The back of her hand or her shoulder would tingle with a soft warmth, an effervescent heat that would make her skin flush and her breath shudder. One time it was the top of her knee while she read in her chair, another time it was the side of her face while she pulled on her boots.

She wasn’t entirely sure what the Presence was, a poltergeist? a spirit? a ghost? She tried not to think too much about it. Instead, she said thank you for the gifts she found, and she grew her herbs and made her mixtures, and she kept the house and garden in good shape, and she sighed and blushed and tried not to want too much when she could feel them near her.

And now, six months on, a half a year since she made this little house into a home for herself, she gathered her courage. It had been a strange day.

This morning she had awoken to the wonderful tingling warmth on a spot on her temple and spanning across her ribs, like she was being embraced and chastely kissed. She’d choked out a sob, a little panicked and very unsure, and ran out of the house in only her boots and coat over her nightclothes. She’d fled around the house to the back path, and the whole time she could feel them at her elbow, then her hand, her jaw, her shoulder, and then not at all as she tripped through the back gate. She’d tried to say something through her tears, so they would understand that she wasn’t frightened of them, she was just surprised, that she needed a moment to get her head back on, but all that had come out of her mouth was something like, “I, I, oh please, I—” But it hadn’t felt like they were near her anymore, it felt like they were gone, and she wept wretchedly as she took the wooded path.

So she’d walked and cried and cried and walked. And she’d found herself at a place where she knew the main path forked off into a kind of loop, so she’d turned to go the long way home. Along the way, she’d found a few stones, some pretty fallen leaves, and some last bits of late summer color boldly showing off before the cold really set in. She had picked some and stuffed them in her pockets, careful to leave plenty besides.

She’d taken her time walking, and it was afternoon when she had trudged back through the gate, face dry and achy, pockets filled with small treasures.

It had felt silent and cold in the house, empty in a way it hadn’t been in so long. But Jane had talked aloud anyway, hoping they’d listen. “I brought you some things from the woods, things you can’t find around the house, see?” She’d placed all the stones in a row, and the leaves in a dish, and anything with a tall stem into the vase. She’d taken a deep breath, then braced herself. “I’m sorry about this morning. Would you please come back? I just get overwhelmed, and I feel… I’m not sure what you feel. But you’ve been very kind to me, I think, and I like when you bring things in for me, and when you touch me, and—”

There had been a creaky sound in the loft, like someone trying to be quiet but not quite able to pull it off, and Jane had let her mouth curl up with relief. “Will you come down?” she’d asked gently. “I promise we’re okay.”

And now, at the end of this day out in the woods, after she stoked the fire and made something hot to eat, after she bathed and bundled herself up in soft blankets, after she read a chapter or two, and had watched a flower in the vase turn and a leaf rustle in the dish, she got into bed.

Jane moved the pillows, shifted herself to one side, and valiantly asked the Presence if they would join her. It would be okay if they didn’t, it would really be fine. But she wanted them to, so much, because it felt significant if they would accept her clear invitation.

They didn’t. Or, at least, not right away.

But when Jane woke in the morning, she felt sparks of warmth all the way down her side, and all the way across her ribs. She smiled and hummed, and she stretched out her arms and legs. They both lay there for a minute in the drowsy half-light. Voice gravelly with sleep, Jane said, “Good morning, dear.”

~~~

—————

lol this is so late! It’s the first one I started working on when I began thinking about participating in Monstrous May a little over month ago, and it’s seen several drafts since then. I knew what I wanted to do, and I’m not certain I got all the way there, and I like it very much anyway, but good lord did it ever take TIME.

A note on the mild dub-con cw: Even though the one being touched welcomes the touch, and imo the one doing the touching is as soft and benevolent as they know how to be, it’s that the consent is still not entirely informed. It’s very tricky, I think, because Jane really likes what’s happening, and she feels a bit like she’s being courted — the attention, the humble gifts, the odd attempts at communication, the touches unlike anything she’s felt before — and she does develop some kind of feelings for the Presence, but the fact remains that she’s missing SO MUCH information. Aaaaaanyway. I hope you enjoyed! Please do let me know what you think, if you are so inclined <3

#monstrousmaychallenge #monstrous may challenge #day 9: the undead #a kinda sorta ghost romance #a sorta ghostmance #whence writing

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