#it’s just people having the same circular fucking arguments all fucking over again and again and again

[problemeule]

urgh

[papijean]

behind the lens [2]

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Chapter summary: A night out at the bar nearly always leads to drunken mistakes - except this time it wasn’t a mistake. This was planned, and you were going to soak up every moment of it. 

Warning: SMUT, 18+ content, vaginal penetration, overstimulation, praise kink, hair pulling, degradation if you squint, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, kinda voyuerism, eren wears a chain and be too sexy

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this one ;) I’m curious to know who you guys think it is!! 

"There's only one way to find out if Eren is the one."

"Not this again."

The girls all arrived at the bar before any of your male friends - which was surprising. They were always eager to go out for a drink. However, without them there, it made it easy for Ymir to tell everyone of her plans. It was fool-proof really, except it meant one person was going to have to be thrown under the bus.

Historia decided to join everyone as well. She was so busy with her schooling it was impossible for her to make time to see everyone. For once she decided to throw away her responsibilities and hang out with her friends like the good old days. Tonight was supposed to be a fun night, but by Ymir's insisting to discover the truth, it was likely to be ruined.

However, the more she talked about it, the more you became curious. There was an endless amount of possibilities - students, professors, staff, hell the person might not even go to the same university. There were thousands of people to choose from and the likeliness of figuring it out was slim unless they messed up.

"(Y/N)'s got to fuck him," Ymir announced. Your jaw became slack at her idea, too shocked to even say anything about it. "Eren was practically fucking you while you were on his lap this week, he wants you. Besides it's been way too long since you've been laid, it's a win-win for everyone."

"What- no!" You nearly shrieked. After knowing him for several years, you knew all about his sex adventures and the last thing you needed was to be added to his endless list of hookups. Not to mention, he was your friend - you didn't want anything to attempt to ruin it. "I'm not having sex with Eren."

"She makes a good point," Sasha shrugged. A hot pretzel was shoved into her mouth as she spoke. "It was pretty obvious he was hiding something yesterday when you brought up if he was the one making the videos. And don't even try to lie, we know you've always thought about what he's like in bed."

You looked over to Mikasa and Historia, hoping they had something that would help for your side. They said nothing, either meaning they agreed with the others or they wanted no part of this argument. Historia was only just learning about this entire situation, she never even heard of Paradis_Finest before Ymir brought it up.

Before you could even try to argue her completely flawed plan, none other than Eren and the others arrived at your table. They all sported similar outfits - tight t-shirts that hugged their muscles and jeans. Some wore a jacket, Eren and Conny bared the colder air outside without one.

"Started drinking without us?" Conny asked, a grin on his face.  By the way your night was going so far, you were going to need a lot more drinks in you to get through it all. He gestured for one of the waiters and ordered a couple of pitchers of beer for the table. He was planning on getting wasted, no surprise there.

Ymir's plan was always set into motion. The circular booth had the girls trapped in the middle with the men on the outside. Fortunately for her, Eren snatched the place right beside you. His mood from the other day was still in motion. One arm slung over your shoulders, the other resting on his lap.

"Guess it doesn't take us as long to get pretty as it takes you," you quipped. Conny shot a hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt by your comment. His short hair took him nearly no time to get ready - unless you included the minutes he spent looking at himself in the mirror.

"And here I was about to offer to buy you a drink." You couldn't but let out a little laugh. It really had been too long since you could all have a night like this. No matter what happened with this stupid porn account, or with Eren, tonight was going to be a good night and nothing was going to stop that.

"Historia it's been forever since we've seen you!" Armin sparked a conversation. The attention of everyone was turned towards the two of them, listening to how her past several weeks had been considering no one has really seen her. Eren's attention, however, went directly to you.

He held his beer in one hand, the other no longer on your shoulder but nestled between your thighs again. He made no teasing movements, nor a further sign of going directly between your legs. A thin silver chain hung from his neck, gleaming in the bright light from above. He watched as you bit the inside of your cheek when his hand tightened on your leg.

Eren was shameless. He couldn't care less if his friends watched him fuck you right then and there if he really wanted to. Shameless enough to fuck in every room in the school and bold enough to post about it online. Maybe Ymir was right, maybe it was Eren. She also was right in thinking you were the only one who could find out.

You had to go through with it. There was no other choice, this could be your only chance to find out the truth.

"It's been a while since we've hung out without the group, Eren," your fingers lightly grasped the chain before meeting those entrancing blue eyes. Your lips were inches from him, daring to push against them before pulling away entire, dropping the chain as you did so. "Maybe we should do that again."

His fingers pressed into your thighs, mind filling with thoughts about what exactly your plans for him were going to be. To see you bold like this instead of him? Eren wouldn't be able to deny your offer - just as you wanted. Maybe he'd be smart enough to put together the only reason you were doing this was to see if he was the one - likely he'd be so distracted fucking you, he wouldn't even realize.

A smirk laid on his lips, though he attempted to hide it behind a sip of his drink. You knew him well enough to know he thought his sudden increase of teasing towards you was the reason you offered. Hopefully, he continued to believe it through the rest of the night. Either way, as Eren's gaze flickered towards your lips before joining the conversation with your friends you knew he was looking forward to his night.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

><

Poor Armin.

He wore the impossible decision to take a taxi back to his shared apartment with you and Eren or take the cost all by himself. Considering how broke he was, the first option, as uncomfortable as it was, only seemed right. He sat in the front of the car with the driver, leaving you and Eren cozied up in the back.

Quiet music played from the stereo to cover the silence. While you tried to be polite for his and the driver's sake, Eren was extremely persistent trying to tease you through your pants and get some sort of reaction out of you. The quieter you were in the car, the louder he was going to make you when you got to his room.

You felt bad for the blonde. Even with several drinks running through him, he likely wouldn't pass out the moment you got back to their shared apartment which meant he would be listening to you and Eren fucking until he did. The poor boy didn't deserve that, not someone as sweet as him.

All this just to learn if Eren was the mystery pornstar. Fortunately, if he wasn't, he would still guarantee a good time.

Eren wasted no time to get you into his room as soon as you made it into the complex. He didn't even bother locking the door, knowing damn well Armin knew not to enter the room no matter what that night. Likely, he'd put on a pair of headphones and watch some show until sleep took over - at least that's what you hoped.

The rest of the night at the bar, Eren constantly had a hand on you. Whether it be sitting down at your table, going with you to order a drink, or up on the crowded dance floor. All night his touch grew a burning desire for him. He wanted you shaking by the end of the night, and knowing him, he was going to get it.

If this was anyone besides Eren you'd be far more nervous. He was one of your friends and more times than not fucking your friends left in ruined friendships. Eren was lucky enough to have the capability to maintain any friendship he wanted after sleeping with them. The last thing you were worried about was losing him.

The black shirt he wore was pulled off before the door even fully closed. His defined muscles resembled the ones in the sex tapes, but you couldn't be sure. Eren was more tanned than the other man which threw you off entirely.

"I've got to admit, (Y/N)," Eren pushed you back towards his bed as his hands worked at the hem of your shirt. His room was surprisingly clean, nothing like you remembered. The smell of liquor filled his breath but you were no better. You'd both drank more than you should have. "I didn't think you were ever actually interested."

You never thought you'd fall for his antics. Never in your life did you think about to be one of the women he fucked and tossed aside. However, the idea of him being the one to post those tapes online had you ridiculously needy for him. Those tapes were hot, incredibly fucking hot and you knew damn well those girls would never get fucked as good as they did that day.

"Are you really going to complain?" You looked up at him, trapped between his arms and his bed. It was obvious what he wanted. All that teasing on the dance floor, the way you refused to give him the satisfaction of your lips on his. You were drawing him in all night and now he was desperate for you.

"No fucking way."

After hours of teasing and tempting, Eren finally got a taste of your lips. All night you were taunting him, getting so close to kissing him only to pull away to refuse him of the satisfaction. He was rushed against you, not wanting to lose this opportunity of a lifetime to finally get in your pants.

You tasted remnants of beer on him and the poor attempt of trying to hide it with a piece of gum. It was his touch you were focused on, though. His hands gliding up the shirt you wore, the softness of his lips as they needlingly pressed to yours. You matched his hands, trailing your fingers along his muscles.

Eren had an incredible body. Defined abs, biceps large enough to trap you and never let go if he really wanted. His low rise jeans showed off the oh-so lickable V-shaped cut leading to the bulge prominent in his pants. He chuckled as you took a moment to appreciate him.

His hand snaked under your back, expertly unclipping your bra in one try. His tongue swiped over his lips as he stared down at your chest. To your surprise, you didn't feel intimidated under his stare. Eren witnessed countless breasts in his time at Paradis University yet he still stared at you like you were his first pair.

He cupped the one, having his other arm preoccupied from crushing you as he kissed you again. His tongue swiped across your lip, silently begging for you to let him deepen this kiss even further. Teasingly, you denied.

Suddenly, Eren ground his hips into yours. His cock strained against his pants as he pressed himself to you. At the same time, his fingers harshly pinched and tugged at your nipple. The combined action was enough to let your guard down and let him dominate past your lips.

Even if this was your idea, Eren was the one who controlled the situation.

Your fingers shakily reached for the button of his jeans. The alcohol in your system felt as if it was burning away with every kiss and the once forced confidence you had was slowly beginning to drain. This was Eren, one of your closest friends since your first semester at this school - how could you possibly be doing this with him now?

The cold chain around his neck brushed between the valley of your breasts. The sudden shock of it pushed you harder against his crotch. Eren held back a grunt at your motion. His lips faltered against yours, too consumed by the sudden wave of pleasure to continue.

"So fucking hot," Eren murmured. His lips trailed down your neck, nipping once at your pulse point to get a gasp out of you before continuing. Your nipple was encased around the warmth of his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hands went to your belt. You whined as he tugged at it with his teeth before moving the other one.

Your hips lifted off the bed as he shimmied your pants down your legs. Eren kissed up your thighs, nipping and biting with every peck. His teeth sank into a particularly sensitive spot causing you to cry out in a sudden shock of pleasurable pain. He enjoyed your reaction a little too much. He bit at it again, harder this time, watching as your fingers dug into his sheets.

Eren continued his devious behaviour. His fingers latched onto the hem of your underwear before pulling them down in one swift movement. Instinctively, you wanted to push your legs together but he saw your movement before you could even go through with it. His arms pried your legs apart, leaving you completely exposed to him.

"All for me?" He grinned, eager to give you the attention you were so desperately craving from him. You nodded, too eager for his next move to speak. Eren dragged his index between your folds, collecting the embarrassing amount of moisture your produced. "Such a pretty little pussy."

His middle and ring fingers slide into you with exceptional ease. As hesitant as you were back at the bar for this to happen, Eren's touch was so electrifying it was impossible to not get overly excited for him. His hands, his lips, his cock, you wanted all of him.

"Come on now, don't be shy let me hear you," Eren chided. His pace fastened, hoping to get more of a reaction out of you. When he curled his fingers up, he finally got it. A loud moan passed your lips, hands wrapped around his biceps as he pressed into you. "That's it, I don't want you to hold back."

Eren's lips were on yours once more, satisfied with his precious work. It wasn't often he brought someone back to his room - most of the time he went to their home. Showing you off with how loud he could get you was a cocky way of proving just how well he could fuck someone. Typical Eren.

"Fuck," you dragged out. The alcohol blocked out your thoughts of the reason why he was so good at this. All the practice he had, all the times he was able to learn from to know just how to make a girl scream for him. Eren's fingers alone made you feel ecstatic, what could the rest of him do? "More... please."

"More?" Eren's voice was incredibly smooth. Any waver he previously had from drinking was long gone. This was his moment to show off and he wasn't going to disappoint. "You want my cock, doll? Hmm? Teasing me all fucking night with that pretty ass of yours. Fuck, (Y/N) I never knew you were such a tease."

"Please, Eren," you whined. His movements stopped, fingers still crushed by the tightness of your walls. Instead of removing them as you expected him to, Eren pressed the pad of his thumb right onto your clit. The pressure was enough to make your breath hitch - but when he began circling his digit you couldn't stop the cry of his name passing your lips.

The lewd noises coming from his actions and the pathetic whines from you could have made him cum on the spot. Eren was always attracted to you, but he never expected you to be this sexy pleading beneath him.

As soon as you high began to approach, Eren took away all forms of touch. His slick fingers escaping your core and landing directly to his own lips. Your chest heaved with devastation as you watched him lick himself clean of your juices. He stared you down like you were his prey, like his final meal.

Fuck, this shouldn't be as hot as it is.

"Delicious, babe," Eren grinned. "If you didn't make me so fucking hard I'd ask you to sit on my face so I could get a real taste." It must have been a luxury for him to offer such a pleasure. The thought alone had you reaching between your legs to continue the work he left you hanging on.

Eren groaned as he watched your own fingers dip into your core. Impatient, so damn impatient for him that you couldn't even wait.

"Next time, then," you spoke without thinking. Next time. There wasn't going to be a next time. There was only one reason you were here - at least only one reason you were willing to admit to. This wasn't just some mindless fuck, this was... research. Still, having him watch you touch yourself made you feel something you'd never felt before.

"Please, Eren," you moaned out. Your fingers weren't enough, you craved his cock. Ymir's mission for you to find out if Eren was Paradis_Finest could wait, right now you needed him to fuck you. It didn't matter how pathetic you felt to be just another girl of his, he wielded the power to have you begging for him.

"Tell me, (Y/N), you ever think about me when you touch yourself? hmm? Think about this moment right here?" Eren asked. His eyes were glued to your digits slipping in and out of your sopping folds. You could barely manage a shake of your head to answer. "No? You will be after tonight."

He worked on finishing your job with his jeans. The bottom and zipper were undone and all he had to do was pull them down. You swore you nearly felt drool dribble down your chin at the sight of him. Eren stood in all his glory before you. Your legs pressed together in anticipation for him.

Looking at him you knew one thing for certain: Eren was not Paradis_Finest. It took one glance at his length to know the truth. Eren was larger than the Mystery Man, more so in girth than length. However, it wasn't just his size, the lack of curve proved it not to be him either. Eren wasn't the one you were looking for - but he sure as hell was the one you wanted in the moment.

"You're staring," he drunkenly chuckled. You felt your face heat up, it wasn't that you were admiring him this much, just thinking about the new revelation. You'd been so distracted you never even noticed him slide a condom onto himself.

Eren grabbed your ankles, pulling you to the edge of his bed. His muscles ripple and flared with the action, showing off just how amazing of a body he had. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same one you caught yourself thinking about throughout the day. He wasn't the one you wanted to fuck you stupid, not in the long run.

He stroked himself several times before lining himself up to your dripping cunt. His member stretched your walls with every inch he pushed himself in. The beautiful pain of it all had you moaning for him. Even Eren couldn't control his own sounds. Quiet curses passed his lips until he bottomed out.

"Fucking hell," his head jutted backward, so overwhelmed by how good it felt to fill you. "So fucking tight for me, (Y/N). If I knew your pussy felt this good I would have tried a lot harder years ago."

Eren grabbed your ankle, propping it up on his shoulder while the other bent and resting on the edge of his bed. He stared down at you with rabid eyes, consumed by the feeling of being fully inside you for the first time. He made it seem like you were the only one he'd ever fucked just by his reaction alone.

"Come on," you whined. Your hands wandered to your breasts, squeezing and teasing them to mimic what he did to you just moments ago. "Move, Eren. Please, I need more."

The sound of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs was a sound you wanted to be engraved in your mind. The squelching of his cock pulling the pure wetness from your pussy with every thrust. His fingers press into your legs, tightening more and more as he get lost in the feeling of it all.

Eren thrust particularly hard, jamming himself against your cervix in the most delicious way. Your walls tightened around him, back arching off the bed, and a shameless moan of his name as he did it. A sadistic grin covered his lips at your reaction. He kept the same position that caused you to cry out, mercilessly hitting it over and over again until you were a blubbering mess.

"Eren!" Your fingers clawed at his sheets, unable to control the spasms in your body as he ruthlessly fucked you. He kept a tight hold on your legs, preventing you from squirming around as he brought you closer and closer to your release. "Make me cum, please, Eren!"

He's obsessed with watching himself slide into you. Obsessed with just how good you can take him - like you were made for him. Every thrust is filled with a new bundle of endorphins that electrify your body entirely - and he's much the same. The alcohol, being filled by Eren, there's no feeling that can compete with this.

"God, you take my cock like a fucking slut," Eren grunted. He brought his thumb down, circling your clit as he pounded into you. A string of moans and please tremble from your lips without thought or hesitation. Your walls pulsated around him, tightening more and more as you got closer to high. "Wanna see how pretty you are when you cum, babygirl."

You do, just for him. Just for his words, his cock, hell he could have said please the moment he entered you and you would have cum for him. It's absolutely degrading how desperate you are for his cock because not one did you think you would ever fall for his dumb ploys to get you in his bed.

Yet here you were, chalked fill with the high of pure pleasure all because you were curious about his dick and whether or not it belonged on the screens of Pornhub.

You wanted to sob as he pulled himself from you. Your walls clenched around nothing, missing the feeling of being so fucking full. Eren barely gave you the time to miss his cock. In your last few moments of release, he flipped you over on your bed, face in the sheets and ass on perfect display for him.

Wetness - your wetness - dripped down your thighs, threatening to cover his bedding. He dragged his fingers through your sensitive folds, grinning as you whimpered because of such a simple touch. Your sounds were rewarded with a harsh slap on your ass. His force was enough to jolt you forward and to leave a crisp red print.

You welcomed his cock for the second time that night, mewling as he bottomed out. The first time he wanted to see you cum, now, he only cared about getting release for himself.

"Didn't think we were done yet, did you? Hmm?" Eren's palm slid down the curve of your back, lighting a trail of icy fire the entire way. "Haven't even got to hear you scream my name yet. Armin's right on the other side of this wall and you never even thought to hold back for him, huh?"

Haven't even gotten to cum yet was more like it. Eren was greedy in soaking up his pride. He'd rather know he was doing a good job than to get an orgasm. Pride only came from others - cumming he could do on his own.

Whatever brief wave of tiredness you hed was washed away. Eren's thrusts were erratic, untimed, and desperate. He adored the way you sopping cunt just sucked him back in for more. The desire you held for him only fueled his attitude.

"Fuck!" Your hands gripped his sheets like it was your lifeline. Every slap of his hips into you was a powerful jolt forward, nearing impossible to keep yourself up. The tips of his fingers dug into your flesh like an anchor and it still wasn't enough to keep you still from his force. "Wanna- wanna cum again, please Eren."

"Fuck you sound so good begging for me." Eren slid his hand down your back once more, this time not retreating and instead latching onto the base of your hair. He forced your head backward, watching as you could barely keep your eyes open with the pleasure he gave you. "Wanna hear my name when you cum again."

"Yes! Please, just - ah! I'm so close again, please," you begged. The fistful of hair he had burned your scalp but your eagerness to cum again washed away the pain. His cock twitched within you, protruding at your walls to show he was close too.

"Good girl, such a good girl for me," Eren chided. He dropped your hair, causing you to fall back into his bed. Your legs felt so weak from his constant pounding that you weren't sure if you'd even be able to hold yourself up any longer. It doesn't matter, you feel yet another release being fucked out of you only moments away.

"Eren!" Your voice is louder than it's been that night, just for him, just because he asked you too and you were too fucked up on the booze and his cock to say otherwise. White-hot pleasure consumes your body, vision blurred at just how well he's treated you. You walls milk his cock, unable to control the spasms around him.

"Fuck, (Y/N)!" Eren's voice carries just as loudly as yours. The condom he wears catches his release as he's completely sheathed inside you. His palm glides over your ass, giving the squishy flesh a squeeze before reluctantly pulling himself from you. A whimper escapes you as he does. "God, you're so fucking good for me."

Your body can't take anymore, you know it can't. But having him leave you for a final time already had you missing his cock. Your legs completely gave out from under you, chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath from your activities.

A quiet chuckled passed your lips - though it was loud enough to catch Eren's attention as he disposed of the condom he wore. He pulled a pair of shorts up his legs and laid flat against his bed. The two of you were side by side, staring up at his ceiling.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just..." Maybe you were a hopeless fool on this endeavor to find your answers. Over forty-thousand kids at this school and the likeliness of it being someone you knew was slim to none. Why on earth did you believe it could be Eren? Some over-the-moon dream just so you finally had an excuse to get his dick wet? "I didn't think I'd end up here."

"Oh come on, you say that like it's a bad thing."

It was, kind of. Caving to Eren was just a gateway to cave to any of your other desires. Something so devious shouldn't have felt so good and yet here you were wondering if you'd ever get the luxury of fucking him again.

"It's not," you decided to say. Your sentence seemed to open-ended to just stop there, but he didn't ask any further about what was on your mind.

All your thoughts that were jumbled together in the heat of all were starting to become clear. Eren was not Paradis_Finest. Your goal to find out the truth wasn't going to end right then and there. Nonetheless, your night wasn't for nothing, Eren brought you more pleasure than you felt in months.

Ymir was right, it really was a win-win situation.

---

Taglist - send me an ask if you’d like to be put on this series or permanently! 

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[usmsgutterson]

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities. 

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue. 

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise. 

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.” 

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry. 

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down. 

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it. 

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours. 

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.” 

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.” 

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying. 

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.” 

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed. 

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!” 

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky. 

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to. 

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive. 

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field. 

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish. 

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance. 

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable. 

O N E Y E A R L A T E R 

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world. 

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.” 

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.” 

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces. 

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya. 

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot. 

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover. 

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.” 

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?” 

“Certainly.”

[disgruntledspacedad]

Aftershocks (2/5)

The Better Love Series 

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse. 

summary: That bomb fucked you up a little more than you thought. h/c, fluff.

words: 2.5k 

warnings: 18+ - canon typical violence, lots of medical stuff in this one.

a/n: unbeta’d. I had a surprise day off, so enjoy the second installment of Aftershocks much sooner than I had anticipated. More notes to follow!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five 

MASTERLIST

You’re escorted beyond the heavy double doors of the emergency department in a hurry. It probably has a lot to do with Javi busting into the waiting area with you in his arms, flashing his DEA badge and barking out orders in irate Spanish. 

Honestly, you wish he wouldn’t make such a scene. Sitting still in the car had allowed you to catch your breath a little. You feel like shit, sure, but you’re pretty sure you aren’t actively dying.

Try telling him that, though.

The triage room is little more than a curtain masking a dimly lit corner. You’re answering what questions you can in halting Spanish, but Javi can see that you’re overwhelmed. 

“Ella habla ingles.” His tone earns him a dirty look, but the nurse nods, placing an oxygen probe on your finger and frowning up at the monitor. Both of you follow her gaze, noticing that the number reads 87. 

“The doctor will see you soon,” she says carefully. Her English is heavily accented, and suddenly, you’re grateful beyond words that you have Javi here to translate. “Here. You’ll wear this.” She winds the oxygen tubing beneath your chin and around your ears. The oxygen is dry, burning your nose and making your face twitch in annoyance, but you can’t deny that you feel better with it on.

The nurse leaves you then, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Javi continues to stare at the monitor with his arms folded across his chest as the number on the screen climbs to 89, then to 92, the soft tone of the blips rising in pitch with each subtle improvement.

He’s thinking again, you can tell. 

“Javi?” You reach for his hand, tugging at his fingers. Instinctively, you know that leaving him alone to stew right now cannot be a good thing.

He glances down at you, all dark, glittering eyes and terse expression, and worry clinches in your gut. “You okay?”

Javi snorts. “Really, Ears.” You can just see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s a hell of a question, coming from you.”

You decide to shoot for levity. “I’m great, thanks for asking.”

That earns you a pathetic, lopsided lip twitch. You count it as a win anyway.

The doctor never shows. Javi grumbles and broods. A little while later, somebody comes with a wheelchair to whisk you away for an x-ray, and no matter how much blustering and badge-flashing and protesting he does, Javi is told firmly to stay put. 

He’s pacing agitatedly in the hallway when return. Apparently, it had felt like an eternity for him. 

In reality, you’d been gone less than twenty minutes.

It seems that your x-ray has earned you some attention, because things start happening a little faster now. People are in and out, one nurse bustling in to wordlessly draw an entire fistful of little color coded tubes of your blood, another working on IV access in your opposite arm. You take it all stoically, caught between watching in fascination as the nurse tapes the catheter in place with practiced efficiency and wondering why all of this can’t just happen in one stick. 

A little while later, the same nurse returns with a bag of fluid. “Seca,” she informs you as she stretches to hang it on the hook in the wall. 

“She says you’re dehydrated,” Javi translates. His face is a stone wall, the subtle clench of his jaw the only hint of the emotion that churns beneath. You can just imagine him kicking himself for not making you eat or drink. 

You bite back a shiver. The saline is cold in your arm.

They move you to a real room not long after that. It’s only marginally bigger than your corner in the emergency department, crammed with two rickey, uncomfortable beds separated by another dingy curtain. Thankfully, you don’t have a roommate for the moment.

You let Javi handle the paperwork as you change out of his sweats and into the itchy, open-backed gown that you’ve been provided with. Even with the oxygen, moving around still requires that you pause to catch your breath, and you’re grateful for the opportunity to sit when you’re done, even if the hospital bed you’re on is squeaky and uncomfortable.

Once the documents are signed and the nurses are gone, silence settles thickly between you. Javi is standing with his fingers fisted into his hips, glaring daggers at the clock on the wall. He hasn’t spoken in a long time.

Again, you feel that burning need to pull him out of his head. “Not really set up for visitors, is it?” you ask wryly. It’s a stupid, pointless thing to say, but you’re just trying to fill the void.

Javi glances around the room, raising his brows at what he observes. There’s no chair and no free space, nowhere for him to sit. Sighing deeply, he yanks back the curtain that divides the room and eases carefully onto the bed opposite of you, leaning forward with his arms folded on his knees.

You grit your teeth. Really, you wouldn’t have minded him settling down on your bed, but the more time you spend with Javi, the more you’re starting to realize that he withdraws when he’s feeling wrong-footed. As annoying as it is, the distance he’s putting between you is just par for the course, and it’s just not worth addressing right now.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, pinning you with a sharp, assessing stare.

“Better,” you answer automatically, forcing some cheerfulness into your tone. Honestly, you’re far more worried about him than you are about you. 

Javi raises a skeptical brow, clearly doubting you.

“No, really!” 

Your protest makes him shake his head in dark amusement. “What am I gonna do with you, Ears?” he wonders aloud.

You’re ready to supply several very detailed answers to that question, all of them interrupted as your doctor finally breezes into the room. 

“About fucking time,” Javi mutters under his breath as he rises to his feet.

“Hola, hola. I’m Dr. Perez.” Dr. Perez says, actually managing to sound a tiny bit apologetic. “Forgive the delay, por favor. I know it must seem that emergencies are the most non-emergent situation in the hospital, but, I promise you, we are working hard behind the scenes.”

 You decide immediately that you like Dr. Perez. He’s not a big man, compact and clean cut, with just the faintest dusting of silver at his temples and a warm, genuine smile. 

Javi must be thinking along similar lines, because he comes to stand just at the edge of your shoulder, looming dark and foreboding at your side as Dr. Perez approaches your bedside. 

Oh, now you’ll stick close, you think fondly, trying to find a little amusement in Javi’s behavior. Everything about this situation is entirely new, totally incongruous with the cool, suave Javier Peña that you thought you’d known, and a malicious, possessive part of your brain is just eating up the implications.

“I understand you were involved in the bombing in downtown Bogotá, correct?” Dr. Perez’s grip is firm and cool as he shakes your hand. 

“Yes, that’s correct.” You’re acutely aware of Javi standing stiffly beside you, watching your every move.

“Most unfortunate,” Perez shakes his head in a show of sympathy, and you manage to believe him. “And the breathing problems, they began later, no?”

“Yes,” you answer, surprised that he would guess with such accuracy. “I was okay afterward. Maybe a little bit sore. But not hurt.”

“Ella ha estado tosiendo sangre,” Javi interjects quickly. You’re not sure what he’s saying, but Dr. Perez’s eyes flicker in his direction, a swift, meaningful look passing between them. 

“Veo.” Dr. Perez says smoothly. He frowns down at you. “And how for were you from the blast zone?”

You think back, willing yourself to relive the memory of the morning in clinical detail. “I was crossing the street,” you say slowly.  “Headed home.” You do some quick mental math in your head, analyzing the width of Circular against the image of Emilio, waving. You’d been close enough to shout a greeting. “Forty feet. Maybe a little less.”

Beside you, Javi sucks in a sharp breath. 

Perez purses his lips. “Sí, eso lo haría.” He crosses the room, flicking a switch to illuminate a bright white panel built into the wall that you hadn’t noticed before. He shuffles through your chart, pulling out a dark film and pinning it to the light. 

It’s your chest x-ray. You can clearly see the curve of your ribs, stark white against the darker background of your lungs. In the middle of the film lies the dusky outline of what you assume is your heart. To the lower left, a patch of hazy, white blur mars the image. 

“This is the problem.” Perez points to the blur. “Pulmones magullados. Your lungs are bruised, see? This is common in blast zone survivors. The change in air pressure when the bomb ignites causes an injury to the lung tissue. You are bleeding just a little bit internally.”

You can damn near feel Javi gritting his teeth at that.

“But I felt fine,” you protest weakly, looking assentingly at the blob on the x-ray. It’s a pretty good size.

“Sí, you were fine.” Perez is nodding along with you, like he’d expected the argument. “That’s normal with this type of injury. You felt good immediately afterward because the bruise was new, the bleeding slight. But the bruise has gotten bigger, and you have gotten worse.” He indicates the oxygen that you are wearing with a grim nod. “You are a very lucky, mi amiga, to have walked away from that. Muy afortunada. Had you been closer…” Perez trails off, shaking his head somberly. “It does not bear thinking.”

He claps his hands, startling you away from the grisly images stirring in your mind. “There is good news, though!” Perez gestures toward the x-ray as a whole, circling over it with his index finger. “I see no rib fractures, nothing collapsed. Your breathing might get worse before it gets better, but it will get better. We will keep you under close watch until then.”

“Keep me?”

“Sí, you will be here.” Perez pins you with a no-nonsense stare, as if to curtail any protests before they come. “There’s another matter. You have a small concussion as well. To this area, here.” He taps the back of his own head with his hand. “From falling down, yes?”

You nod. The area he’s pointing to is right where your head hurts most, where you’d fallen backward after the blast. “Yes. It did knock me off my feet.” Apparently a with a little more force than you’d initially assumed.

Perez hums. “We will monitor that as well. You do not take blood thinners?”

“No, sir. No medications.”

“Bueno.” Dr. Perez seems genuinely pleased by this. “You’ve made my job very easy.” He gathers the film and shuffles it back into your chart, flopping it shut with a flourish. “Rest for you, Orejas. Time and sleep will do the best healing.”

“Orejas?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the name that Emilio had used for you, but you’re shocked that Perez knows it. 

Perez smiles. “I listen to my nurses. That is what they call you.”

“How much time?” Javi interrupts before you can respond. You’d nearly forgotten about him, as quiet as he’s been. 

Perez turns to address him for the first time. “It depends largely on her body. The concussion is small, and won’t require anything in the way of treatment. Her lungs, though…” Perez frowns down at the closed chart with a furrowed brow. “The contusion is still developing. A few days, a week, perhaps? I can say more tomorrow.” He turns back to you, sighing in sympathy. “I’m afraid you’re in for a stay, mi amiga.”

Well, fuck.

With that, Perez disappears just as quickly as he’d arrived, soft, quick footsteps echoing down the hallway, and silence falls once again over the room.

Javi doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He’s standing very still, arms folded tightly across his chest with his thumbs digging into his armpits. The expression on his face is downright chilling. 

Your blood turns to ice.

“What the fuck, Ears?” he says very slowly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision.

You glance up, suddenly hesitant to speak. The little movement must be enough to spur him on, though, because Javi fucking explodes. 

“Forty fucking feet!” he bites out, clawing angrily at his hair. He paces the tiny room, whirling as he runs out of space and pointing an accusing finger at you. “You told me you were across the street, Ears, not crossing it. There’s a big fucking difference.”

You blink at him, recalling the conversation you’d had in the embassy parking lot. 

Shit, he’s right.

“Why the hell did you lie to me?” There’s a subtle warble in his tone, a flicker of devastation in his eyes that’s quickly masked. 

Discomfort that has nothing to do with your injured lungs twinges in your chest. “I don’t know,” you answer miserably. You hadn’t thought of it as lying. At the time, you’d been overwhelmed by the situation and thoroughly confused by Javi’s erratic behavior, just desperate to get home and sleep off the worst morning of your life. “I didn’t want to upset you, I guess.” 

Javi laughs sarcastically. “Well, you’ve done a fucking fantastic job of that, haven’t you?” He throws his hands in the air, like he’s had it up to here with your shit. “Coughing up blood all over my kitchen floor. Christ, I should have known.”

Okay, now he’s being a little dramatic - the only blood you’d coughed up had been into your fingers, after all, but the protest is lost on you as you look him in the face. Javi’s eyes are deeply shadowed, his expression pained, his hair standing wildly from where he’s run his fingers through it. 

He looks thoroughly exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, dropping your gaze to the floor.

Javi huffs and looks away, clearly not ready to accept any apologies from you.

You don’t blame him. Throughout this entire screwed up relationship, you’ve done an absolutely piss poor job of putting yourself in Javi’s shoes, and it’s coming back to bite you in the ass.

You deserve his irritation, and more.

Javi’s pager beeps, the shrill sound of it slicing through the tension. He snatches it roughly off of his belt, frowning down at the display with squinted eyes.

You glance up at the clock on the wall. It’s pretty late, but given the day Javi’s had, it’s not outrageous to assume that somebody would need to be in touch with him at this hour.

 “I’ve got to take this,” Javi says tonelessly, hardly glancing up at you. If there’s any regret there, it’s buried very deeply. “I’ll see you later, Ears.”

He’s gone before you can get a word in edgewise.

♠

confessions/notes:

I speak one language poorly, and I’ve never extensively written a character who is not a primary English speaker (I’m not counting Javi here). Any critiques or corrections to my Spanish are very welcomed!

Up next: a look at things from Javi’s POV.

Spanish translations: 

She speaks English. 

Dry

She’s been coughing up blood.

I see. 

Yeah, that’ll do it.

ears

tags:@jedi-mando, @perropascal, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites​, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty​

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh, @1800-fight-me​

To my taglist peeps, I’m sorry for tagging you guys three times in 24 hours. Again, chaotic jay cannot plan anything, like ever.

[kwonhoshi0]

𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 | fic

navigation | requests : open | 12th march 2021

pairing : dabi x fem!reader

genre : fluff, angst

word count : 3.1k

warnings : fire, death, trauma

themes : strangers to lovers, mutual pining, denial, story changes,

summary : you had to get away from the toxicity that is your father and the hero society. after 17 years of being trapped, you finally have a chance to escape but with a man you didn’t really expect to help. you wondered why he helped you, you don’t know it’s because you don’t question his looks, you saw him not his scars.

you didn't plan for this, you didn't expect him to save you.

the corrupted superhuman society, the toxic society you lived in angered you. maybe things would've been different if your quirk, or your parents weren't who they are.

they wanted to mold you into the perfect weapon against villains, were the villains really the bad guys? who had the right of calling people heroes and villains. what separated them.

those thoughts you asked yourself each day growing up, if you could even call it that. 

everything was okay at first, you felt loved, but once your quirk manifested that changed, drastically.

training everyday until you couldn't move, the tears, the bruises. when would it be enough, is this really what it took to be a hero, to be deemed worthy of such a title?

you had already had to endure 12 years of training constantly, for your dad. you always wondered what is would've been like, to grow up in a stable happy home.

your father had been rejected by the superhuman society, his views were called sick and twisted. he wanted, needed to make you the best. that would've been okay if he let you have a childhood, if he trained you like a daughter not a robot. 

your fathers quirk is jet fire, he can quite literally make jets of fire with his mouth. the green haired man wasn't always bad, he didn't always push you or bruise you. you remembered there was a time, he would hold you, he’d spin you around. 

your quirk is the manipulation of fire, with the particles around you, you can create fire and other gases like smoke. it was a literal merge of your parents quirk, except you don’t breathe fire you create it with your hands.

your mother hasn't talked to you properly since your father started training you at the age of 5. maybe it was the guilt, she never questioned her husband, he had left another woman for your mother, personally you thought she was the last thing holding your fathers sanity together. the guilt of ruining you, corrupting you had haunted her so much she didn't even notice the scars and bruises on your body.

you had never had a real mother figure to show you how strong women are. she would never tell you this but she wondered where you got your anger and courage from.

everyone has a breaking point. yours was when you realized your parents would be living your life for you until they die. that terrified you more than you'd like to admit. the thought of living your life as a hero, a hero you didn't believe in or want to be. an entire lifetime in someone else’s shadow.

did you really live 17 years for this.

you thought about this as you stared up into your ceiling. it was 1am and you couldn't sleep, again.

you had had an argument with the green haired man you were cursed to call dad. it got heated and you locked yourself in your room, you had a bag packed full of clothes and money. staring at it you thought, is it worth it, will all this be worth it.

heroes and villains, you scoffed, they're all the same.

hearing loud steps coming up the stairs, you panicked standing up quickly and shoving the bag into your closet.

“y/n!”

“what” you looked at your door where the man stood, putting your book down next to you. 

“training in 1 hour” you stared at him incredulously, it is 1 fucking am and this lunatic wants me to train, Now.

“no” you deserve sleep, you only finished training a couple hours ago.

“you will train with me in one hour, or else i’m taking your phone and you’ll be training until tomorrow night.” you sighed frustrated and angry as he slammed your door shut. of course he’d take away my one fucking escape.

your eyes darted to the bag peaking out the corner of your closet, maybe today is the day.

you stared at it for a minute before grabbing the bag and checking everything was in there before grabbing a couple more items of clothing and your charger cable. you quickly got changed out of your training clothes and shoved on some baggy jeans and a black turtle neck with some boots. ‘fuck okay, we’re doing this’

you grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your sheets to make it look like you’re sleeping and opened your window, your room was on the second floor so you weren't worried about the drop, you jumped down using smoke to soften your fall and you ran through the alleyways of the city.

after an hour of running you leaned against the wall of an alley and checked your phone to see 30 missed calls from your father. before leaving you made sure to turn off the tracking app and restrictions on your phone.

as you turned to run through the alley you felt eyes on you, a cold breath made the hairs on your neck jolt up, yelping slightly you jumped forward to see.. some sort of sludge monster?

‘fuck’ you breathed as it backed you against the corner, throwing your bag to the side you floated up a little with your quirk and blasted fire at it, it parted where you aimed the fire before molding back together, ‘strong, worthy of me’ it breathed and it collided with you making you scream out in pain, it was agony, it felt like it was ripping you apart inside out.

you could hear voices coming closer but you were a little preoccupied. you had an idea, you slowly created as much fire you could with your hands, the creature shrieked pushing you away as you gasped air filling your lungs again.

you noticed a circular black matter at the end of the alley where the sludge monster appeared from, before you could inspect it it shrunk until it was nothing.

the same voices you heard earlier yelled as the sludge monster slipped through the drains “she’s valuable, she defeated that monster” a man said coming closer to you, you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows “touch me and you die” you breathed standing up from the dirty alley floor. “feisty too” he chuckled.

you were outnumbered, it was 6 to 1 in a small alleyway. before the men could come any closer a voice behind them made them turn, ‘the people you wanted dead are just that, where’s my payment ’ you couldn't see his face so you attempted to look around for an escape, you noticed a drain pipe leading up to a sturdier metal one, if you could jump onto the electric box and swing your up you could make it onto the roof, you just needed to time it perfectly.

one of the men turned to keep an eye on you, “we’ll have your payment in a week” the man in the middle scoffed turning back to you, “you know that’s not good enough, the payment, now or i’ll burn you to ashes” he said with venom laced in his voice, one of the 6 men had moved to the side, you had a clear few of who they were talking to you, you felt as your face heat up at him but you shook it off.

you raised an eyebrow at him signalling to the metal bar, you weren't sure if he’d help you but he’d probably help you if it was for his benefit as well. he flicked an eye between you and the metal bar immediately smirking at your plan. 

you took his smirk as a confirmation and grabbed your bag from the floor and lifted yourself up with smoke from your feet and jumped swinging yourself from the metal bar to the roof, before you could fully push yourself onto the roof you felt a hand gripping onto your leg, you tried shaking the man off only to feel blue heat take over the alley beneath you.

your eyes widened slightly as the scarred man continued burning the men below you, “stop it!” you yelled as he raised an eyebrow at you the blue flames dying down to nothing.

you sighed in relief rolling onto your back, the men scurried away, burnt but alive.

“why’d you stop me?” he asked, you supported yourself on your elbows as he climbed up onto the roof, he didn't look mad, it was a genuine question. “i don’t know maybe i didn't want to see anyone die.” you deadpanned sitting up dusting the dirt off of your clothes.

he looked at you as if you were the most confusing person in the world, you hadn't asked about his scars or flinched when you saw him, or stared at the purple marks around his face and body. he wanted to know why.

“what?, do i have something on my face” you pouted slightly running a hand through your hair. “no, just surprised” you pursed your lips as if waiting for him to say more, you stood up and grabbed the bag full of your belongings you mumbled a “thanks”.

“what was that smokey?” he smirked, a nickname, really. you rolled your eyes at his remark “you should be thanking me as well, without me you would’ve been cornered” he nodded a little at your words “hm well, what’re you doing out here”.

“ran away” you said quickly as you stared at the missed calls on your phone screen. “i need to get away from here” you added as he watched your every move as if trying to decipher you.

“well, you wanna go to hosu?” you looked up at him in disbelief, “what’s in it for you”, he looked conflicted you weren't great at reading people, its not like you had friends or anyone other than your parents around growing up. 

“might change my mind” he grinned before motioning you to follow him, you cautiously followed his steps along the rooftop. “wait i don’t even know your name”. he turned around for a split second before jumping onto another roof, you did the same, “what’s yours”.

“y/n mido- just y/n” if you were really going to leave this world behind then this is where to start, leaving behind your fathers name.

“names dabi, why did you run away” he’s intriguing, besides you needed to get as far away as possible and he’s willing to help so telling him this isn't exactly a danger to you.

“my dads a dick, he’s trying to train me to become the greatest hero but if this is what it takes to have the fucking honor of being called a hero then i don’t want it. i don’t want to be controlled my whole life, or live a life i don’t want”.

“huh, sounds familiar” he joked leading you out of the alleys closer to the lit up streets of the city. you smiled at his joke before jumping down the building as he did using smoke to soften your fall again, he zipped the trench coat up around his mouth and let the hood cover his hair, his piercing blue eyes and nose were the only facial features visible, you laughed slightly at the sight making him roll is eyes at you.

you moved to peak around the corner of the alley, dabi stuck out a protective arm before peaking out as you tried to do a couple seconds before. he let his arm fall to his side again before motioning you to join him, you walked beside him. 

the large lights and billboards made your eyes go wide, “what you never seen the city at night before?” he joked watching your expression stay the same, you looked like a child seeing fireworks for the first time, it was endearing yet sad. had you really been isolated like this, never even seeing something as simple as lights in the darkness.

“i told you, my dad trained me most of my life, so I've never had the luxury of seeing this, never mind at night.”

he hummed at your words as he turned another corner grabbing your arm and dragging you in at the last second making you yelp, a couple motorbikes and cars stood in a line along the small street. the man eyed each of the bikes, you watched as he grabbed a key from a pocket in his oversized trench coat and placed it into a black and blue motorbike before throwing a leg over the seat and turning a head to you. “you coming or not?”.

you grinned before jumping up into the seat.

the world blurred past you, lights buildings and people became one, it really was beautiful, your wide eyes tried to catch everything as you sped past. “where are we going!” you yelled over the noises of traffic and people. “1 day in the city, then hosu city”.

you had never felt more alive, of course you were taking a risk going somewhere you didn't know with a stranger but this was better than being trapped in a house you couldn't call home. 

you gripped his waist as he sped up slightly, he probably didn't how much you hadn't seen, or how much you'd been cut off from the world you thought, in reality he knew more than anyone.

he was busy in thought as you sped past the lit buildings, he watched in the small metal mirror at your expression.

she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.

maybe this was a bad idea, i could’ve just told them i lost her.

the sun started rising a little after you left for the centre of the city, the sunrise you knew all too well rose, sleepless nights led to you watching the sunrise on the rooftop of your house. it was lonely, being alone wasn't something you thought about often. people are disappointing is what you had been taught through experience but however much you wanted to be okay with loneliness you knew you’d find someone to change that, a friend.

“aye you still awake?”,

“mhm”, he grunted in return as you asked him about how much he’d seen of the city, the conversation went onto talk of your family. 

“my mother, she was so in love with the idea of my dad that she kind of just ignored how he treated me, they were good parents at some point, but somewhere along the line that changed”

the day was the most fun you had ever had and much to his disgust you went shopping, you were taking a while “fucking hell, yeah that’s fine”, you frowned at his tone before grinning “hm ill find something better”.

“No, no that is good, yeah its great stick with that”, you laughed at his annoyance before going to pay, “i’ll pay” you shook your head a little grabbing the card you put your fathers money on. 

he rolled his eyes before shoving his own card in the machine and punching in a couple numbers, you thanked him and took the bags resting them on your arms. 

the day went by faster than you liked, you soon found yourself heading towards the motorbike, the black haired man followed next to you eyeing your every move.

she’s going to hate me.

you followed the road out of the city towards another, the lights slowly becoming only dim streetlights. the bright yellow lights of the city were far behind you but even within the peace something was off, you could feel the tension between you and the male, even if you were to ask its not as if he’s going to tell someone he’s known for a little over a day.

“where are we staying in hosu?” you tried to fill the tension with small talk, the man sped up a little before answering “with a couple uh friends, they’re weird”. you nodded as if he could see you, just as you were about to ask him about his ‘friends’ you felt a drop of water hit your cheek.

as the rain slowly got heavier you giggled feeling the drops slide down your face, “what’s so funny smokey” he turned slightly to look at you, you blinked the rain out of your eyes to look at him not expecting to see his bright cerulean eyes looking straight into yours, your breath hitched slightly but you didn't look away, his eyes averted back to the road again and you let out of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

he found himself somehow jealous of the fact that the rain got to touch you, your eyes lit up as you watched the lightning flash across the night sky.

he huffed in anger at himself for even feeling these things, whatever, shes gonna hate me after this anyway.

with only an hour left for hosu you felt yourself getting tired and you grabbed a monster from your bag, you opened the can shuddering a little at the cold you chugged most of the acidic down your throat before hearing the boy in front of you elbow your knee, his hand was held out for the drink, you rolled your eyes pouting slightly and handed him the drink, the rest of the sugary drink drained down his throat. 

something about him intrigued him, maybe it was his mysterious nature, mystery had always drawn you in, it was fun figuring out mysteries and conspiracies, so why is he so difficult to figure out. his eyes were the most mysterious to you, his bright ocean filled eyes. they held so many stories, so many emotions you couldn't decipher.

“hey i asked you a question” you shook away your thoughts and asked dabi to repeat it he sighed shaking his head before smirking for a split second, “i asked how much you hate villains”, you furrowed your eyebrows at his question.

“i don’t hate villains.” you said simply he looked back at you as if asking you to carry on.

“its unfair how quick people are to decide the difference between heroes and villains, most heroes aren’t even good people, they're just fakes hiding behind the mask that is saving people, you hurt people in secret your whole life and then save a couple people and you’re suddenly a hero?, i don’t hate villains, i hate people who think get can choose who’s a hero and who’s a villain just from their appearance”.

he thought for a couple minutes before his lips curled into a small smile, she really gets it huh.

“i’m not stupid, i know you’re deemed a villain dabi, but you don’t seem one to me”, his smile softened a little as if you said the most meaningful words to exist, he felt his walls slowly breaking for you, worst part is he let it happen.

he turned one final corner before parking outside what looked like an abandoned warehouse, you hopped off the bike and followed the man to the door he sighed slightly, he let you go in front of him, you stopped at the door and turned around to look at him questioning his sigh.

he inched closer to you as your back pressed against the door, your eyes widened as his former comforting smile turned into a sad smile, as if he wished this could last.

your breath hitched as his face got closer, he grinned for a second his nose brushing against your own, just as you thought he was going to kiss you he pulled back slightly and lifted his hand which was clenched as if he was holding something, his hand stopped level to his mouth, he opened it and blew the powder into your face making you immediately collapse.

you didn’t expect him to save you anyway.

A/N : damn so part2? DJSF

FUN FACT : manga spoiler : when he said “ she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.” he was talking about his desire to become the greatest hero with his quirk but because of his body is was unreachable.

taglist : @todoroki-shoto-is-life @blazedbakugou @luluwiie @blue-gold-demigod-clouds @gazelle-des-pres

[obeywho-meduh]

FINALLY!

I finished my 200 SPECIAL!

ONCE AGAIN! Thank you all for your support! I look forward to providing you with more S M U T ❤️

Lucifer takes you to the hot spring for some relaxing

ENJOY~

⚠️NSFW WARNING: Lucifer x GN!reader, Anal, Oral, love bites, climax, teasing, water play

After the long argument of what you wanted to do for the 3-day weekend, you’d decided on going to the hot springs that Diavolo mentioned about a couple days ago. Then the bigger issue of who was going to be able to spend alone time with you, or rather as Asmo stated, take your legs the full two days of the vacation to recover. They had all been longing recently to have more intimate time with you away from their brothers.

“This was a stupid idea...” Leviathan pouted as he stood beside Beel who had been wearing his best puppy dog eyes. 

“It was fair~ but you’re right, this result is ludicrous,” Asmo sighed as he patted your head, “Had I much better luck, you’d have had so much more fun.”

Sighing, you pull your luggage more toward the door despite Belphie pulling at it as his face dragged on the ground. “You guys are the ones who decided to pull straws...” 

Beel picked him up and Belphie continued to hold onto it like he clung to his pillow. After fully removing him, you looked over at Satan, clearly upset and attempting to prevent his eyebrows from twitching. You patted his shoulder with a book, the one he recommended to you the day prior, then put it in with your luggage. 

And you still heard Mammon griping about it, “He must’ve used Barbatos to cheat!” 

“The only one who cheats around here is you Scammon.. but wait... did you use Barbatos to cheat?!” Leviathan looked at his eldest brother who placed his suitcase beside yours. 

Lucifer exhaled heavily as he turned to his brothers, “If all of you insist on arguing about the result then none of us will go.” 

“I swear on every fiber of my being if I don’t get to go to the hot springs, I’m going to go live with Diavolo.” You grabbed your luggage. “Anyone have a problem with me going with Lucifer??” 

“Yes.” Satan said blatantly, then he covered his mouth. 

“I’m going to take that as a reflexive hiccup, cause we’re leaving. My body needs this.” As you walked to the door you turned and smiled at all of them, “We’ll be back in 3 days, so don’t destroy the house while we’re gone.” 

The two of you walked out the door, headed to the car that they ordered, and then were off to the hot spring. 

Under his breath, Asmo chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll regret you saying your body needs this.” 

------

“Oh, wow this place is really nice. I didn’t expect Dia would actually be telling the truth about it being similar to the ones in the human world.” Pulling your luggage behind you with the help of the wheels, you headed into the cabin-like resort. 

“Excuse me, who?” Lucifer coughed into his hand and eyed you. 

“Geez Lucifer, he isn’t even here… Lord Diavolo was telling the truth.” 

After Lucifer got the room key and instructions for the hot springs, you both headed to the room. You walked past him as you entered the room. 

“Ah... why is there only one bed?” 

“Are you complaining now?” He scoffed as he then walked past you to put his suitcase down. “If you have a problem with one bed then you can sleep on the floor.” 

“That’s so mean! I don’t have a problem with it, but I didn’t assume that you’d want to tolerate me sleeping with you for 3 days...” You set your luggage to the side before you stretched and tried to get past the awkward situation. 

Lucifer patted your head, “Who said you’d be sleeping?” 

“What?” 

“Let’s head to the hot springs.” He hung his jacket in the closet and took out some towels before heading to the door. 

“Wait! What did you say?” You followed after him as he headed out. 

—————

“So it’s a unisex hot spring?” 

“Complaining again?” 

“No! But I don’t want my memory wiped since you’re such a party pooper.” You crossed your arms as you walked into the locker room area. To your surprise there was no one there, and now that you thought about it, you hadn’t seen anyone aside from the staff. “Hey Lucifer, why aren’t there any people here?” 

“We’re the test guests, so it was benefitting that I was the one who won the straw pull.” He walked to a locker before he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, placing it inside the locker, and you couldn’t help but take in the sight before you. He hid his chiseled body well, except the day he had you feel his body and Beel’s to say whose was better-structured. Of course it was Beel, but to get out of that situation alive, it was Lucifer.

And when Lucifer fucked you, it would be from behind or blindfolded, so you never truly took in his definition. So man, you were truly absorbing this image as he took his pants off.

“Wait... test guests?” 

“Mhm.” He looked over at you, “I don’t plan to wait for you,” He let his underwear drop as your eyes widened, then he wrapped the towel around himself, closing the locker, and he turned his back to you to head to the showers. 

You had taken so many mental images of his cock that you thought your brain was about to explode. And you watched as he walked away, his shoulder muscles and the outline of ass underneath the towel making you bite your lip as he turned the corner. Never had you disrobed so fast to follow after him, not even sure if you had closed the locker fully. 

Rushing around the corner, you saw him sitting on one of the provided shower seats as water deluged down his body, glossing him and highlighting his features further. You walked over to the shower next to him and pulled out the stool and sitting down you took your towel off to hang it on the wall. You both were told that the towels aren’t allowed into the hot spring water so as to not contaminate it, which was why you were showering before getting in.

Both quietly, you washed yourselves off, your head glanced over to him as he scrubbed his shoulders, before realizing it you were using your sponge to wash his back. He shifted slightly to look at you before he continued to wash himself. Finishing with his back you resumed your own scrubbing. Right before you were going to rinse yourself off, he reached his hand over with his sponge and did the same for you.

Turning your head away from him to hide your blush, you muttered, “Thank you...” 

“Mmm.” He removed his hand then went to rinse himself off as well, taking the movable showerhead he held it above himself also rinsing his hair, and before you could grab your own he stood up with his stool. Getting on his knees behind you he went ahead and let the water fall on you. 

“Oh… I got it Lucifer...” You tried to turn your head to get him to finish his own washing, but his free hand wrapped around your neck and turned your head back around while the other took the showerhead and brought it down to your sex, letting the vibrations of the water tingle against you. You shuddered a groan as your hand grabbed his wrist, and his hand around your throat tightened, letting you fall back into him. 

“Are you trying to stay dirty? The staff told us to make sure we were both fully cleaned before getting in.” 

“N-No, I want to be clean, sir.” Your hand loosened its grip on his wrist, and you opened yourself more to him. And your other hand came up to cover your mouth, considering you would get very vocal, which he mentioned he took fervor in his ability to make you scream, letting all his brothers know when he was taking you. 

“That’s a good little doll. Now let’s get you clean.” He clearly had the water pressure as high as it could go; you didn’t think that this would feel as good as it did, the water was hot and stimulated you in a simpler way than Asmo’s vibrators would. Lucifer nipped at your ear lobe as he moved the showerhead up to your chest, pressing it on your nipple before his hand came down from your throat to replace the sensation on your sex with his fingertips. He knew how to play with you, but you weren’t expecting this type of treatment so suddenly. 

His hand reveled in getting you to convulse against him, his hand kept at its ministrations as he rubbed the showerhead in a circular motion on your nipple. “You’re getting so aroused just from getting cleaned off.” 

Your voice muffled under your hand as you grit your teeth. “I’m n-not!”

He bit at your neck, “Oh? Attempting to lie to me?” His tongue traced your shoulder line, “Yet your nipples are so hard and you’re even trying to hold back your voice.” Then he bit down on your shoulder as his hand sped up in its pursuit of your sex.

When he bit down you couldn’t hold it in anymore, your head leaned back onto his shoulder, and your voice bellowed out as you climaxed. 

His hands withdrew from you then he used the showerhead to re-rinse you off as you continued to lay against him. “Now we’re both ready to head in. If you can move.” 

You shot up from his hold, “Of course I can!” Luckily, he didn’t take it any further or else you probably wouldn’t be able to move. You stood up and as the water dripped down from you, he stood as well; it’s not that you hated your height difference, because either way he’d be intimidating, but man you wished you could knock him down a peg. 

A smirk crossed your face, “Why wouldn’t I be able to move? I always can afterward.” You knew that was a lie, and so did he. As you turned to face him, he took hold of your chin and pushed you back to the wall. 

“You really enjoy lying to me, don’t you?” he asked. 

Your eyes veered away from him, “I’m not...” You were. 

“Hm.” He pulled away from you and turned back to face the doors to the outdoor hot spring, “Then perhaps I shouldn’t touch you.” As he walked away from you, his body glistening, he turned back for a moment, “But we’ll see how long that lasts.” Then he disappeared again around the corner. 

Why? Why were you poking at his pride? Granted, why not? He always one-ups you, whether it’s with comebacks or in the bedroom. You clapped your hands together, “Not tonight!” That’s right, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of giving in. 

—————

Thinking back on a few minutes ago, what was another lie? Cause my Lord Diavolo, he was egging you on from the other side of the spring, sitting there with his legs open, cock already hard and in hand. Your eyes strained to see his movements under the water. 

All your body wanted to do was get up and help him take care of his erection, but no. You’re weren’t going to give in so soon. You really shouldn’t be getting up to walk to him. Wait. What were you doing? WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING!? 

Great. Now you were standing in front of him. No, don’t say it... He was going to mention this afterward…

“I’m sorry sir.” 

“Oho? What for?” 

“Lying.” 

Lucifer pointed to the ground as his face wore a ‘triumphant’ smirk. “Now show me how sorry you are.” 

You got down on your knees in front of him, letting the water come to your neck as his eyes locked with yours, and they truly had you entranced. He didn’t need to instruct you in exactly what he wanted you to do. Reaching your hands down to replace his, you stroked his cock, the water making it hotter to the touch. 

You took a breath before you closed your eyes. Submerging your head under the water, your lips guided by your hands, they wrapped around his tip. You did your best to swallow half of his girth without letting the water go down your throat along with his cock. 

Keeping your lips perched tightly on him, you began to move, working your tongue against his head and using your hands to work the rest of his cock. Beginning to slow as you strained to hold your breath, you could feel his hand come down to hold the top of your head, then he yanked you above the water and you gasped for air, tongue hanging down as you panted. 

“Try not to drown yourself. Come up for air when you need to.” His words seemed kind, until he leaned forward, “Now take another deep breath.” 

As you did, he pushed your head back under the water and made you take more of his cock, threatening to gag you as his tip brushed the back of your throat. Some water leaked its way into your mouth; you swallowed it and as you did, your throat muscles tightened around his tip. 

Lucifer’s grip fastened more on you, your hands gripping onto his thighs as he took full control of the pace, moving your head, and you felt his legs jerk slightly. His speed made you squeeze his legs and he pulled you up quickly, your eyes cracking open between the water trickling down your face, chest hefting as you huffed for air, and you got a blurry look at him. 

He pulled you up to him, and holding your jaw in his hand, he kissed you and his tongue snaked its way around yours. While still holding your lips together, bringing you into him, his cock rubbed you while your hand came down to grasp and stroke it, lips parting as he turned you around and rested his cock between your asscheeks as you sat on his knees.

He whispered in your ear, “Now little doll, put it in your ass and ride it.” 

He bit the top of your ear as his hands come up and pinched your nipples, pulling and twisting them between his fingertips as he waited. Sitting up until his cock was probing your hole, the water made it effortless to slide it inside you as the heat took away some of the initial pain from his size as it entered you more. You heard him groan and you bit your lip, about to regret what you were about to do. 

Turning your head to the side to get a view of his face, you brought your hands to each side of your ass cheeks and spread them. His cock sank into you, ass clenching his shaft, and you sat on him for a moment to let your body adjust back to his size. 

He bucked his hips, making you bounce on him, which made his cock go even deeper. Body trembling as your voice fills the air and you fall back on him, the sudden stimulation shocks your system and your legs already seem to not want to respond. 

“Didn’t I say ride?” 

“I-I...” you whimpered as your body obeyed him, and despite your wobbling legs you pulled his length out of you and then pushed it back in. He spread his legs so you could have more room to move as your hips began to grind on him. 

Your body wanted this feeling from the moment he’d won the weekend with you, and you were going to be sure to need a week off from RAD and not just the 3 days to rest from this. 

Oh no. No. Don’t. Why?! 

“S-So...aaahh.. this is only p-proving my point ahhahh-a-about you.” 

His hands came down on your hips, “I never said I was trying. But since you want to continue your taunts, then maybe my cock is the best way to get you to comport yourself properly.” Clutching your sides, he held you in place and bucked his pelvis and his cock slammed into you.

Body quaking, your eyes seemed to roll back from the sheer pleasure and pain that thrust gave you. “No retort?”

As you attempted to catch your breath, your voice was caught in your throat as he lifted your legs, your arms bent in response and reached behind to hold onto the back of his neck and some of his hair. “F-FFFuuckk!” Gripping his hair he bites into your shoulder holding on as his thrusting intensifies, breaking the skin with his movement.

Lapping at the light trickle of blood, Lucifer stood, holding you while his pace continued. Panting, you almost whine feeling the cold air surround you, but the warmth coming from his chest and cock were intoxicating. He releases your neck and turns around, putting you on your knees on the sitting ledge, his hands clasped onto your hips, as the water between you splashes about. 

The sound of the water between you as he thrust, played a melody along with your moans and the spanking he started to unleash. The sting from his hit melded with the water, the heat made it radiate a little longer, and you could feel your ass tighten around his cock. 

His groans were lustful, listening to him starting to come to the edge, you proceed to push your ass back more against him. Getting close to your own climax, your moans were echoing around you. Lucifer grabbed your forearms using them for a better grip as his momentum increased, and as he snapped his hips your body shuddered as you came.

He followed after you, his hot cum filled you, its motility reaching your deepest parts almost as if it had a mind of its own. His pace slowly but he keeps thrusting, riding out both of your climaxes. He pulls you up and kisses your neck as his cock makes its way out of you. Panting as your eyes look down and watches as his cum drips into the water.

“Seems the staff will have to change the water.” Lucifer picked you up, “Not that we’ll be back for the rest of the time we’re here.”

Panting as you held onto him, “W-What do you mean?” You did plan to come back down here to get some pain relief for your posterior after he was tapped.

“Did I not say we were test guests? We aren’t just here to test the waters. We also need to break the bed.”

“Y-You mean, break-in the bed?”

“No, Y/N. I plan to break you and the bed tonight.”

—————

The house phone rang, and Beel picked it up, after nodding a few times, he responded with okay then hung up. Levi and Belphie were sitting in the common room as Beel walked in. 

“So who was that Beel?” Levi didn’t want to answer the phone but he was still curious about what was happening. 

“It was Lucifer.” Beel hesitated, “Y/N, isn’t feeling too good so they are going to stay there for the rest of the week.”

It was as if the whole house heard Beel say that because the only word that rang through the halls of the House of Lamentation was “WHAT!?”

—————

Tears filled your eyes as he filled you again and again, you didn’t know how many times that was now but you’ve had to have been here for more than 3 days. “L-Luucci--ahh!”

“Still think you can walk?”

[lilbabycee]

georgia // steve rogers ✈️

↳ summary: after a mission, the reader comes back with some serious injuries and steve doesn't know how to handle it.

↳ relationship: steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 2.9k

↳ warnings: near death experiences, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, another overused trope

↳ author’s note: more steve for you because i love this man - enjoy! <3

You’re curled on one of the sectionals in the common room, watching the sun peek out from a blanket of clouds not unlike the ones that you’re lying under right now. The sky is swathed in purples and yellows and oranges and you take the time to enjoy the unobstructed view from the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Avengers Compound. You can feel yourself sinking into the grey ocean that is the obnoxiously large sofa beneath you and you think that if you drown then this would be a hell of a way to die.

He isn’t speaking to you. He hasn’t even seen you in weeks, harboring a grudge so strong that you think the weight of it could crush even his super soldier body. Leaning the side of your head on the couch, you find yourself momentarily distracted by the picturesque scene in front of you, but then your eyelids droop and you are snapped back to the reality of your situation. You can’t sleep without him and he knows that. After all of these years you still don’t know exactly what it is - maybe a product of the Red Room, maybe years of murdering innocents coming back to haunt you, but you can’t sleep alone. You were used to it for years, not getting more than two hours of sleep - if you were lucky - most nights. But long gone are the days of sneaking into bed with Natasha, because once Steve came along, you didn’t need it any longer.

Steve. You sigh in frustration, one hand wiggling out from underneath the fluffy white blanket to rub at your eyes and run over your face. Maybe you’re being dramatic. After all, waxing poetic about your boyfriend wasn’t going to bring him back from wherever the fuck he was in France right now. Prior to a few years ago, you only had yourself to look out for and nobody else. You had become accustomed to it, doing whatever was best for you and not having to take anybody else into consideration because, ultimately, you worked alone. But then you joined the Avengers, became a part of a team, and then you realized that you were surrounded by people who valued your life more than you did.

It was jarring to say the least, but on top of that, you met Steve. It was instant, the connection that you two shared. There was always a sense of admiration that went both ways, and you brought each other a sense of normalcy in a world that was otherwise chaotic and often unbelievable. You love him more than you love yourself on most days, you find. But his Captain persona has a tendency to spark arguments with the intensity of a forest fire, igniting the fire within his belly but in contrast, you become cold and withdrawn and defensive.

It doesn’t happen often, but when you do fight, the entire compound knows about it and the team is forced to witness the tension between you two for days, weeks. This was especially painful for both Sam and Natasha, as they are both so close to the both of you and they always feel as if they had to pick sides.

You miss him, you realize, when rare tears prick at your eyelids and you close your eyes to try and ward them off. This time of the year is especially hard for you, having to watch families and children and happiness and beauty all around you. You can’t stand it. It just reminds you of all of the things that you decided that you couldn’t have, things that can’t fit into the lifestyle that you have so carefully perfected over the years. You’d been spiraling over the last couple of days, truly spiraling and the only person who had noticed was Natasha. There was so much of herself that she saw in you, having grown up the same way without love and affection and comfort.

Steve would comfort you. He’d tell you that your feelings are valid and that you have every right to feel sad and that you’re not alone in your emotions. He’d come cuddle you and call you baby or honey or doll and kiss you so hard that the whirring freight train of despair on a circular loop in your head would come to an abrupt stop and you’d forget about all of that, at least for some time. But he isn’t here so you’re stuck the way you are: sad and cold and tired and alone.

Your ears perk up and you can sense somebody standing behind you. It’s not Steve - you would know - and you peel your eyes open slowly, turning around regardless, curious as to who else could be up at 7:20 a.m on a Sunday and not training. Your eyes meet green ones and you exhale a laugh. Those verdant eyes are flooded with concern and what looks like a hint of… guilt?

“‘Tasha,” you greet slowly, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “You’re not training. Everything okay?”

“I feel like that’s what I should be asking you,” her voice is soft and filled with that same concern, unnoticeable to somebody who does not know her as well. “How’re you feeling?”

You bark out a laugh again, wincing when you feel the soreness of your throat and idly rub at the smattering of bruises that mar the skin on your neck. You become acutely aware of the deep cuts on your legs and your bandaged wrist, sighing when you remember how long you’ll have to spend in medbay with Dr. Cho to change all of them.

“I’ve been worse,” you shrug, slowly becoming increasingly aware of how every small movement comes with a sharp sting of pain. You were no super soldier: you still healed like a regular human being, although people often seemed to treat you like you weren’t one as a result of your extensive spy training. It’d been weeks now and you still aren’t fully healed, something that frustrates you to no end as you were just about tired of sitting on your ass. “I’ll get over it eventually, but it’ll just take a couple more weeks. At least, that’s what Dr. Cho said.”

“You know that’s not what I was referring to,” Natasha gives you a deadpan look and you hold her gaze because you’re nothing if not stubborn.

You know who else is stubborn? St-

“-and Steve,” she continues. You snap out of your slight daze and focus on maintaining eye contact with her. “I spoke to him and told him to come speak to you - he doesn’t know how bad you’re doing.”

“You know that after Georgia he doesn’t wanna speak to me,” you’re surprised at how soft and resigned your tone is.

“He doesn’t wanna speak to you or you’re not giving him the chance to?”

“You know perfectly well that that’s not the case, Nat,” you shoot her a murderous glare and she smirks, walking around the sectional to sit next to you, lifting a corner of the blanket to sidle up next to you. You drop your head on her shoulder and close your eyes again, feeling a strong pounding sensation at the front of your head. A groan leaves your lips and you bury your face into the redhead’s shoulder.

“Steve is absolutely one of the most stubborn people I have ever met,” Natasha starts slowly. “But he also has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I’ve ever met. You and I both know that for a fact. You have to put yourself in his shoes. Imagine how he felt when he saw you like that, blood pouring out of your head and laying on a table on the quinjet, helpless. If that was him, you know how panicked you would have been.”

---

three weeks ago...

You’d thought that you’d taken all of them out, running next to Sam and turning the street corner back towards the quinjet. This part of the country had been virtually abandoned, a true ghost town. It had taken several hours to fly from New York just to do some recon, even in the quinjet.

Steve and Natasha were running several feet ahead of you, and they had disappeared out of sight, turning another corner, when it happened. It was supposed to be a quick and simple in-and-out, not meant to take any longer than a few hours, so the relief that it had all gone to plan was almost palpable in the air.

That was until a massive man rushed you with a dagger, obviously desperate and probably out of ammunition. He went for Sam first, a swift and split-second stab to the side - a wound which ended up being non-fatal, thank God - and continued to attack him when you jumped on him from behind. You knew that you were out-muscled - the man stood at over 6’5 and was built like a tree - but you managed to get him away from Sam. You were sure that you could overpower him with purely your agility and skill, but he fought dirty. After tackling you to the ground, he grabbed you by your neck in an attempt to asphyxiate you and damn he was strong. You struggled to pry his hand off of your neck, the intense pain making your vision cloudy and your head spin. Taking advantage of your temporarily incapacitated state, he stabbed you in the shoulder and then repeatedly in the legs, crushing your wrist by putting all of his weight on it. You came to the realization that he was trying to get you to lose as much blood as he possibly could, wanting to drag out the experience. You faintly heard Sam struggling to speak into the comms and hoped that Steve and Natasha were coming back.

The man, with a wicked grin on his face, proceeded to smash your head repeatedly against the concrete sidewalk. The last thing that you distinctly remember was hearing Steve’s heavy boots sprint over to where you were.

You were told that after that, Natasha took care of your attacker while Steve carried you back to the quinjet in a panic. Nat was able to help Sam limp there, surprisingly it really was more of a flesh wound and hit no vital organs. You had been in a medically induced coma for four days after your heart had stopped because of the gallons of blood that you had lost. They tried to restart your heart several times and when they finally succeeded, they wanted to make sure that you were healing in the way that you were supposed to be. When you woke up to Steve sleeping, slouched in a hospital chair beside your bed with your hand gripped tightly in his, you gave him a weak squeeze to wake up. He jumped up and immediately started crying while calling for the medical staff.

After you were left alone, Steve walks back in with a far sterner expression on his face than when he first came in. You try for a weak smile, but you are severely concussed and struggle to form coherent sentences so you are not in the mood to fight with your boyfriend. But it looks like he is in the mood to fight with you.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he begins, standing at the head of your hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

You roll your eyes and heave a sigh. “Steve, can we do this another time? I’m really not feeling up to-”

“No, Y/N,” he barks, effectively silencing you. His Captain voice has made an appearance and your frustrations start to arise. You know that this won’t be a quick scolding. “We’re a team. And you have to make decisions that are best for the team. What you did was unnecessarily put yourself at risk when Natasha and I were readily available to help you. Instead of communicating with us, you took on the task by yourself and look where that’s gotten you. I know that it’ll take a while for you to recover from these injuries but I don’t want you coming on missions for another month after your recovery. It’s-”

“Captain Rogers,” you interrupt him, your defensive walls up and your tone frosty. “With all due respect, sir, I did what I thought was best at that moment. I was protecting Sam. I don’t know what taking me off more missions will do for the team, or me, for that matter. I was trying to protect Sam from death-”

“You died, Y/N!” he shouts at you, voice cracking slightly, and your mouth snaps shut. “You died and I saw you die. Forgive me if I don’t want that to happen again.”

He clenches his jaw and his eyes dart around, a sign that he’s trying to avoid tearing up. Your expression has softened considerably and as you open your mouth to speak, he pins you with a glare so fierce that only air comes out.

“You’re off the missions. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

That’s all he says before swiftly turning on his heel and slamming the door behind his retreating figure.

---

Starting to speak, you look at Natasha’s side profile as she stares directly ahead of her: “I know. But he’s acting like Sam wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t helped him. It’s just that I’ve gotten over this. And I’m in pain, Nat. I’m tired. I’m exhausted and my throat hurts and I feel so weak but he’s not here.”

At the end of the sentence, your voice cracks and Natasha’s hand comes up to rub comfortingly at your back. Your body is too busy shaking with sobs for you to realize that Steve just walked in. He sees Nat and smiles at her before his eyes hone in on your fragile - a word that he’s never used to describe you before - body. His smile drops abruptly and he rushes to your side, his stubbornness be damned. Steve had no idea just how badly this had been affecting you, because he was too concerned with waiting for you to come and apologize to him.

“Baby,” he coos softly, gently caressing your cheek. Your head lifts and his heart sinks when he sees your bloodshot eyes and dark bags, coupled with your shaky hands and severe bruising. He hasn’t even seen you in the weeks since the hospital - he took a mission in France with Bucky almost immediately after - and he feels like crying himself when he sees how much the lack of communication has broken you. He’s always considered you the strongest person he knows, untouchable and tenacious. But this, this. It breaks his heart. “Hi, baby.”

You only sob harder as Natasha shoots him a look and stands up, presumably heading towards the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Steve takes her place after mouthing a thank you - to which she responds with an eye roll - and takes care to wrap his strong arms around you without pressing on any of the more severe bruises.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I was bein’ hard-headed and selfish and I didn’t even think about how hard my best girl has it. But you shoulda seen yourself, babydoll. I thought I had died right along with you on that table…”

Fuck it, you think as you throw your arms around his neck. Sharp pain shoots through both of your arms but you don’t give a fuck because your Stevie’s here and he’s apologizing (?!!) and he’s so warm.

“Stevie,” you sniff, almost childlike in your need for affection. “I’m sorry. I wanted to help Sam and I thought I could take him.”

He chuckles, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes serenely as his lips linger and he starts caressing the side of your bruised neck with his thumb.

“That’s okay, doll,” he smiles. “You probably coulda taken him and I know it was a tough situation. I just want my baby to feel better. I’m sorry I haven’t been here; I needed to clear my head because I was just so damn scared. My worst fear is losin’ you and having that realized, living through that… I couldn’t bear it. But I’m here now and we can make sure that you rest up. You been sleepin’, sweetheart?”

You shake your head - too fast because the pounding in your head intensifies and you groan - and lean up to press a kiss on his cheek. His cheeks warm and you smile fondly at him, pleased that even after all this time you have an effect on your man.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we honey?” he smirks as he easily lifts you up with your arms wound around his neck. He starts striding towards your shared quarters and lays you in the bed. “Cold, baby?”

You nod and make grabby hands at him, feeling especially needy - a side that you could never show to the rest of the Avengers because they would bully you for the rest of your life. He only laughs, whipping off his shirt and joining you in bed.

“Comfortable?” he asks, looking down at you. You snuggle up to his chest - fuck your broken wrist and crushed windpipe - and feel yourself drifting already. You come to realize that this is where you belong - wherever your super soldier is, whatever he does, you know that you’ll love him to the ends of the earth…

...or at least all the way to Georgia.

tagged: @literaturefeen​

[straykats]

“no. the moment you saw me as a bet was the moment you fucked up.” , “Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!” with hyunjin💓💓 (please a fluffy ending if possible🥺😭)

Honestly.. If u hadn’t asked, this would’ve been an angst ending hehehe but this still isn’t the most cotton candy fluff ending, apologies

---

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you…what?” Hyunjin waved the ice-cream spoon in a circular motion, urging you on.

You gulp, averting your eyes from his face. It felt wrong to be here with him, with the knowledge that you had. It’d been a week since one of the girls in your class had let it slip - you’d gotten in a small argument about a trivial matter, and your classmate had let what was supposed to be a secret slip. You’d questioned it - she was a petty person, would say and exaggerate things to hurt others. So you hadn’t thought much of it until yesterday, when you’d seen some of the guys laughing and teasing Hyunjin.

A lazy grin plasters itself onto Hyunjin’s face and he sits up straight. “Y/n. Sweetheart. Honey pot. Beloved. If you were waiting for me to say ‘I love you’, then wait not longer-”

“That you only asked me out because of a stupid bet.” 

It was like time inside your and Hyunjin’s little bubble had stopped. The seagulls continued to fly overhead, kids continued to splash around in the water. But Hyunjin had frozen, his mouth still quirked on either side, yet his eyes showed an emotion you had never seen in them.

“How did you- You found out?”

The blood in body runs cold, and your fingers felt like they were tingling with electricity. “You’re not even going to deny it?”

Seeming to finally realise the level of hurt and betrayal you felt, Hyunjin blinks rapidly and pulls himself up, reaching forward for your hands. They weren’t even on the table, but you lean back all the same. 

He flinches minutely. 

“Look, I can explain-”

“Explain what? That you thought it’d be okay to- to play with someone’s feelings because a friend said that would be hard to date?”

Hyunjin’s brows furrow. “‘Hard to date?’ All Yongseok said was that he didn’t think anyone would be able to date you- rumour has it, you’ve rejected more people than he’s dated, and that’s saying something.”

A scoff escapes you. Despite everything, Hyunjin still had the nerve to sound amused at the facts? To joke? Still had the nerve to correct you? What difference did it make, anyways?

“Right. So you heard that idiot say that and you thought you’d take it as a challenge?” Shaking your head, you stand up. “A great show of character, Hyunjin.”

You’re aware that he’s gawking at you as you make your way off the bench and swing your bag over your shoulder. He scrambles after you. 

“Y/n, wait- Please let me explain.”

Spinning around, you find yourself facing Hyunjin and jab a finger at his chest. “No. The moment you saw me as a bet was the moment you fucked up.”

“Come on, y/n, that’s not fair!”

“Not fair? Fuck you, Hwang Hyunjin. I can’t believe I thought you were nicer than your little group of fuckboys friends-”

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!”

The shock overrode all your anger and hurt. Hyunjin… never yelled at you. Not like this. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as if he had run a distance to catch up to you. He swallows harshly, closing his eyes for a second.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” He opens his eyes again, and gestures his chin to behind him. “Come back, please? Sit and talk with me. Let me explain. And then.. And then you can go, if you want.”

Glaring at him, you take a moment to calm down. Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

“Okay. Fine.”

Despite the sun shining down on it, the table that you had sat at just moments ago now felt cold. 

“So, go ahead. Explain.”

“You’re not wrong; I asked you out because- This.. Us… it only happened because of what they said.”

Yeah, you get it. Does he need to reiterate it again?

“But they… They were making fun of me - and I know, that’s not an excuse, but they were saying I wouldn’t be able to ask you out because I… Uh, well, I liked you. Like you. Present tense.”

The shock washes away your anger. You had had a crush on him for quite some time, but you’d always let it sit at the back of your mind, only fully acknowledged when you talked to him, walked by him, saw him laughing. You had imagined what it’d be like if he were to tell you he liked you back, and this was not it. 

“So this is all out of spite?” 

Hyunjin bows his head. “... Yes.”

“And you couldn’t have just… asked me out before that?”

You catch his sheepish look, ears pink and looking down. “Well, would you have asked me out-”

“Don’t turn this on me.”

“Right. Sorry.” And he did sound sorry. He clears his throat and sits up straight again, forcing his eyes to meet yours. It doesn’t last long. “I was scared that if I told you the truth, you’d get angry-”

“Yeah, well, you thought right.”

“-and you’d end things… But.. you heard me out, so…”

He peers up, and your heart softens at the puppy-eyes. With a soft exhale, you bring your hands up and reach across the table. Hyunjin’s eyes dart down at your hands, then up at your eyes questioningly. 

“Yes, give me your hands, idiot.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your lips quirk at his quick reply, and you take his hands in yours. You squeeze slightly, and he squeezes back.

“That was stupid of you.”

“I know.”

“And I hope you never do it again.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I sound like a mother.”

He lets out a snort of laughter. “Yeah... kind of.”

The sun was warmer now, high in the sky and shining down on the two of you. The sound of the waves was calming, relaxing. The childrens’ laughter was lighter. The seagulls called freely. 

Your hands are warm in his. His thumb runs over your knuckles, and the both of you watch quietly.

“So, are we good?”

“Almost.”

Hyunjin looks at you, eyes wide. “A-Almost? What do you mean almost? How can I make it- ow owowow!”

You had squeezed his fingers tightly, one quick burst of strength. You hold tightly for a second, two seconds, and then let go with a smile.

“Okay, now we’re all good!”

Hyunjin pouts at you, having drawn his fingers to his chest and massaged them. “Not that I didn’t deserve that, but geesh, at least a warning next time!” His features then soften, and he holds an arm out to the side. “Come here, angel.”

The smile falters from your face, sensing the change in atmosphere. You swing your leg over the bench, standing up and taking a few steps towards Hyunjin’s side of the table. When you pause next to him, he gestures again. You take a seat next to him.

“I really.. I really do like you, y/n.” Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, pulling you in close. He hugs you to his chest and rests his chin in the crook of your neck. “I’m just so relieved right now. Thanks for not leaving.”

“Oh, it was tempting- Hey, hey!” You let out a soft laugh when his arm tightens around you. You bring up a hand, resting it on his forearm and rubbing circles with your thumb. “I was joking. I really like you too.”

“Well, thank God,” he mumbles into your skin, before placing a kiss on your neck.

[bookish-bi-mormon]

The People You Think You Love Don’t Exist

Written for @asexual-jarchivist for @tma-valentines-exchange 

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood

Tags: Argument, Emotional Hurt/Comfort,  Angst, Fluff, (mostly fluff), Scottish Safehouse, Post Lonely,

Happy Valentines Day Tony!! I love you so much 💜💜

~~~~~~~~

Jon was tired. And he was frustrated with himself for being tired. He and Martin had been in Daisy’s safehouse for a few days, and he had had plenty of time to rest and relax. It was the first time in a long time that he’d consistently gotten a good night’s sleep. Yet he was exhausted.

            Martin poked his head out of the kitchen, a grin across his face. Jon wanted to be happy to see that grin. It really was a beautiful grin. But he knew it meant Martin was about to ask him something and he didn’t want to get up from his spot on the couch.

            “Hey Jon?” Martin said, in an endearingly genuine voice, “Would you want to come help me finish dinner? I’m almost done, just a few extra steps.”

            And, because Jonathan Sims was finally accepting how in love he was, he agreed to follow Martin into the kitchen, despite the protests from his mind and body as he left the comfortable sofa and made his way around the corner.

             They worked in silence for a while. Martin kept glancing at Jon like he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t saying anything, and it was starting to grate on Jon’s already strained nerves. His good will was beginning to leave him and his legs hurt for no discernable reason and really his mind just kept telling him to get in bed.

            But instead he was placing the tray of asparagus in the oven and trying to match Martin’s chipper attitude. Although that seemed to be wearing thin itself.

            It was odd, the kinds of things you thought about when you were in the same room as someone but not talking to them. Unbidden, a memory made its way to the front of Jon’s mind, like an unwanted acquaintance approaching him on an unusually foggy day: how much did they really know each other, he and Martin? Peter Lukas had said that they didn’t, and as much as Jon had tried to forget that – had tried to forget most everything that had happened that day – it was a thought that demanded attention.

            He glanced at Martin, as he was collecting a couple of plates from the cupboard, and wondered at how few conversations they had really had in all the time they had known each other. Did he even know Martin’s middle name? Not that that detail really mattered but … Martin had been known to lie. To be fair so had Jon himself.

Despite himself, Jon felt the memory of Peter Lukas’s voice push its way to the front of his mind. The people you think you love don’t exist. Not really. And that’s a very lonely place to be.

            “What is it?” Martin asked, and Jon shook his head a bit, reorienting himself.

            “What?”

            “Nothing you just – you looked like you had something to say,” Martin placed the plates and utensils on the small table as he spoke, his eyes on Jon. They were earnest eyes. Kind.

            Worried.

            “It's nothing,” Jon said, turning away as if to check on something and then realizing he had nothing to check. “No, my mind just went … somewhere else. Sorry.”

            Martin nodded silently, like he understood something, “My mind goes there too, sometimes,” he said in a small voice.

            “Where?” Jon asked, looking at Martin, and he was sorry that he sounded more annoyed than he’d meant to.

            Martin smiled a sadly, “The Lonely.” He paused, then said softly, “I’m sorry,” looking at the ground, “It’s my fault we ended up there in the first place.”

            Jon breathed. He knew what he was supposed to say in this situation. He was supposed to say it wasn’t a problem, that he’d have gone to the Lonely – or somewhere ten times worse – a thousand times over to save Martin because he loved him and that’s what love was, wasn’t it? But he was so tired. He dropped into one of the chairs with a small nod instead of responding. He tried to think of something he knew about Martin that didn’t have to do with being tormented by monsters. When was the last time they’d had a conversation about something normal?

            No, that was unfair. They had had plenty of light conversations as they traveled here. Jon just really needed to get some sleep.

            “I think I’m going to lie down,” he found himself saying aloud.

            Martin looked a bit taken aback, “But dinner is almost –”

            “I know.” Jon said, rather abruptly, standing and starting to make his way across the room. “I’m sorry I’m … not hungry.”

            Martin took a deep breath, evidently upset, although he tried to hide it. “Right. Okay. I’ll just eat on my own.” He wasn’t trying to be passive-aggressive, but it still made Jon feel the need to apologize.

            “Sorry,” he said again, “I’ve just been … I’ve been having a bit of a rough time.”

            “What and you think I haven’t?”

            “No, I never said that,” Jon responded quickly, turning back to face him “why are you –”

            “Sorry,” Martin said, and Jon was acutely aware of how often that word had been used in the last few minutes, “I just – are you angry with me about something, Jon?”

…

            Jon hadn’t thought he was angry – confused or doubtful, maybe – but a few moments later he’d dug into the hurt he’d been feeling since he’d woken up in the hospital, and it certainly looked a lot like anger. Months of worrying about Martin from a distance and watching him choose to drift further and further away – maybe it wasn’t rational, but emotions rarely are, and Jon had been hurting for a long time.

            “That’s not fair,” Martin said indignantly in response to Jon’s latest assertion. They were both standing in the middle of the kitchen now, agitation keeping Jon on his feet despite the tiredness he’d been feeling all day.

“Well, I’m sorry” Jon said, this time using that word as more of a weapon than an apology, his voice louder than he meant it to be, “I just … I wish we could’ve faced these last few months together, but instead you left me to deal with all of it on my own.”

            Martin scoffed and Jon looked up, surprised at the derision on his face. “Oh, you were alone?” Martin retorted.

            “No, I – you know what I mean.”

            “No Jon, tell me. What do you mean?”

            Jon sighed, he knew that he shouldn’t say what was about to come out of his mouth, “I wasn’t completely alone, but that’s because for once I wasn’t the one pushing everyone away.”

            Martin made an indignant noise, “I was trying to keep you safe!” he said, “to keep you away from their plans for once!”

           “But you didn’t have to do that!” Jon retorted, “I don’t need you to protect me!”

            Martin was silent for a moment, the hurt evident in his eyes. And Jon was suddenly acutely aware of the circular scars that peppered his skin, the perpetually wrinkled scarring on his burned hand, and the months that for him held no memory other than fearful dreams. Maybe he did need someone to protect him.

            “Jon,” Martin said after a deep breath, “you were … gone. You were gone and Tim was dead, and I was alone.”

            Jon opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped himself.

             “The lonely, it’s not – I wasn’t just there for a small amount of time,” Martin said, “It’s not even just these past months. I have always been … alone.”

            And on that word the tears started running down his cheeks. Slowly at first but they picked up speed as he fought to keep his breathing under control. “Even … back when we first started working in the Archives, you all were such good friends and I just … I tried so hard. But I’ve never been the person people see. I’ve always faded into the background. The lonely just … let me do it on command,” he said with a bitter laugh through his tears.

            “Martin,” Jon said, guilt filling him as he reached a comforting hand out, but Martin waved it away.

            “No, no, it’s fine I’m just …” he took a shuddering breath, “for once, I could use that. For once I thought, ‘I can be alone, on purpose and I can help people that way. Maybe even save the world.’ But it doesn’t matter anymore. Turns out that was just another stupid idea.”

            Jon took a few steps toward him, closing the distance but not reaching for him this time, “Martin, I’m so sorry,” he said, “I – I was hurt that you pushed me away but I shouldn’t have brought it up like this. I – “

            “It’s alright Jon, don’t –” Martin took a deep breath, obviously trying to reorganize his thoughts, stop himself from saying something stupid. “I’m just … I think sometimes that maybe nobody actually needs me, y’know? Like, all I do is make tea, write bad poetry, and fuck everything up.”

            Jon looked at Martin, despite his large frame, in that moment he looked small. Jon thought back on everything that had happened to them, on all the times he’d thought he could do things alone, and all the times Martin had been there for him. “I’m sorry that you feel that way,” he said, and for some reason in this moment he felt the right thing to do was increase the distance between them, give Martin some space, “and yes, we’ve both made our share of bad decisions recently. But,” he sank into one of the kitchen chairs, keeping his eyes on Martin, “I need you to know that’s not true – I do need you. I mean … that’s kind of what I’ve been trying to say, I think.”

            Martin turned his eyes to meet Jon’s.

            “I missed you,” Jon admitted, “and I kept my distance because I trusted you, but it still hurt, although I don’t blame you for any of the decisions you made,” and as he said it he realized it was true. “I guess I’m just … scared?”

            “Scared of what?” Martin sat as well, his legs brushing against Jon’s. He was still wiping tears from his eyes, but he seemed to be regaining composure, his earnest face focused on Jon.

             “I’ve changed.” Jon said matter-of-factly, looking forward at the lines in the wood of the table, “I’m not … human. What if … what if I’m not who you thought I was? You think you know me but – ”

            “Oh Jon,” Martin said, reaching his arm around Jon’s shoulder. Jon initially stiffened at the unexpected touch, but then welcomed the opportunity to melt into Martin’s warmth, “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said first, and Jon nodded to show he accepted the apology, “and yeah, we are not the people we were when we first started working in the archives, anyone could tell you that,” Jon scoffed at the understatement, “maybe there is a lot we still don’t know about each other but … I mean we haven’t been boyfriends very long. We’ve got time to learn.”

            Boyfriends. Jon smiled. He did like the sound of that every time he heard it.

            “And I know enough now to say this,” Martin gently cupped Jon’s face in one of his hands, smiling slightly as their eyes met, “I love you Jonathan Sims, and no amount of spooky Avatar weirdness is going to change that.”

            Jon smiled in response; much – though not all – of the tension he had been feeling drifted away as he leaned up to gently kiss Martin.

            “I love you too, Martin,” he said quietly.

            After a moment, Martin pulled back, sniffing the air. Jon smelled it too, something burning.

            Simultaneously, they turned to look at the counters. The chicken was set on top of the stove and had long since grown cold. There was smoke rising from inside the oven and Jon realized with a start that he had never set a timer for the asparagus he’d placed inside.

            Jon wasn’t entirely sure why, but he started to laugh as Martin rushed to open the oven; snatching a potholder and waving smoke away, he pulled out a tray of charred black sticks that were far beyond edible. Martin looked from Jon to the devastated tray and back, the dismay on his face transitioning into reluctant amusement before he was laughing alongside Jon, his face breaking into one of the most wonderful smiles Jon had ever seen.

[scythian-andromache]

the 7-Eleven off I-40

based off this post

also available on [AO3]

Drew has worked at the 7-Eleven off I-40 for three years, and two of those he’s spent on the night shift. It’s a shit job, honestly, but it’s what he’s got to pay the bills while he works at getting his GED (long story) and takes care of his baby brother (even longer story).

He’s seen some weird shit in his time; kids high off a late-night adventure, actual addicts shaking as they bring snacks up to the register, people so drunk they couldn’t walk straight, someone dressed up in a full-on ball gown and feather boa, you name it. He’s been held at gunpoint twice for the contents of the register, and has been cussed out more times than he can count.

So when, at six minutes past two in the morning, a guy that looks like he could be straight out of an action movie—and probably the villain, because he’s vaguely good-looking in a European way—waltzes in with another pissed-off looking guy dressed like a bum, hoodie pulled over his face and grunge jeans and what’s clearly a gun in his back pocket, Drew’s immediate thought is fuck. This is going to be a bad night.  

The two men are clearly arguing about something, but it’s low enough that Drew can’t hear, and he’s not about to approach them to listen in. He hopes desperately that they’re not arguing about how to rob the store.

Then, Action Movie Villain says something that causes Grunge Wannabe to gesticulate wildly, flipping the guy off with a hiss of “connard!” Or maybe Drew misheard, and the guy’s name is Connor. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Connor moves on to examine the display of beef jerky and Grunge is looking at the day-old pastry section, but it feels suspiciously like they’ve fanned out, like they’re casing the place, glancing shiftily around every few moments. Drew is five seconds from typing 911 into his phone and holding his thumb over the call button when the door bursts open again, and two more people tumble in: a women and a man, also in ripped, dirty clothing, and fuck, are those bullet holes in that dude’s jacket, the one soaked in a dark substance that Drew doesn’t want to think about?

The woman—white, thirty-something, looks like she could murder him with her pinky—says something in a language that definitely isn’t English, and Connor and Grunge each snipe something back. Drew tries his hardest to listen in without making it obvious that he’s listening in, and glances down just as Grunge makes another profane gesture in Connor’s direction.

“Calmati, Habibi,” says the man with curly hair and the maybe-bloodstained-jacket to Grunge, and then, “Booker, cut it out,” in English to Connor.

There’s more hushed argument in what Drew thinks might be a different unfamiliar language—and this time, the scary woman says, “Hey!” sharply—and then they’re interrupted yet again by a young black woman entering, with a heaved sigh of “We’re all gassed up and ready. Everyone got their snacks?”

“Not quite,” says Blood Spatter, this time in lightly accented English. “Booker, as I was saying, just let me drive if you think Andy’s so bad at it.”

“You?” snarks Connor—Booker? “The last time I let you drive, you drove us to Bratislava.” Drew takes a moment to wonder where that is. Kentucky? Missouri, maybe? They’ve got some real funny place names there.

“So?” says Blood Spatter, apparently unperturbed.

The man’s eyes almost pop out. “So? We were going to Vienna!” There’s definitely a Vienna in Missouri; he drove through it once.

“Eh, that is barely two marhalah away from Vienna.”

“Sure, except it was the wrong country”—oh, so maybe they’re talking about Europe—“and in the interim the wall went up and we got stuck behind Soviet borders for a MONTH.”

Soviet borders? Drew isn’t particularly up on world affairs, but he’s pretty sure that was like, from the 80s, wasn’t it? None of them look old enough for that, in fact—

“Hi,” says the younger woman brightly, leaning against the counter, and he’s distracted by how pretty she is, the angles of her face and the swirl of her braids. “I was wondering if you had any earplugs.”

She smiles disarmingly, tilts her head as if to say this bunch, huh? and Drew finds himself grinning back, mentally trying to run through the catalogue, remember if they do have any earplugs anywhere.

“I, uh. I don’t think so,” he says.

The woman looks disappointed, but just shrugs. “No biggie. Thanks anyways.”

“Hey, uh—” says Drew, before he can think the better of it. “Do you need any first aid supplies?”

The woman raises an eyebrow and he flushes, gestures vaguely at her midriff where there’s definitely dried blood ringing perfectly circular holes in her shirt.

“Oh,” she says. “Nah, but thanks for checking.” There’s an awkward beat. “Costume party,” she adds, gesturing at herself, like it’s an afterthought.

(There’s been no such party anywhere in the county, or he would have heard about it. In their neck of the woods, it would be a stretch even at Halloween, and it’s currently March.)

He’s considering saying something more, or maybe just shooting his shot—stranger things have happened, right?—when five armfuls of candy and snacks get dumped on the counter.

The older woman sends an icy glare his way, and Drew immediately starts ringing up the purchases, as fast as he can, barely noticing as half of them leave again.

It’s the Booker guy who pays, dropping a bill that looks like play-money on the counter (it says “100€”), before the pretty woman elbows him and swaps it out for a hundred dollar bill, smiling apologetically.  

“Keep the change,” she says, as they sweep up the bags and glide out the door.

Keep the change? This is a 7-Eleven, not a restaurant, and he blinks for a second, stupefied, before running to the door to protest, to tell them that’s not how it works, and also that he’s not supposed to accept any bill denomination above twenty, but there’s a screeching noise, and their car is already disappearing down the road and into the night.

He stands, alone in the empty convenience store, the overhead lights too bright and too harsh as he tries to make sense of what just happened. The hundred dollar bill sits limply in his hand, and he returns to the register to make the correct change and set everything in order.

Drew looks around, wondering, for just a second, if he imagined the entire experience. Everything looks exactly the same. They’ve gone without so much as the slightest indication that they—with their larger-than-life bickering and supposed costumes and strange stories—were ever there, and Drew is suddenly struck by the vague feeling that he just fulfilled a role as an extra in, like, a heist movie. Strange, indeed.

But this is the 7-Eleven off I-40, and sometimes the night shift is just like that.

***

fin.

***

*connard: Nicky has just called Booker a bastard in French, as one does.

*calmati: google translate tells me this means “calm down” in Italian, but what do either of us know?

*Habibi: we all know this one, right? “My love” in Arabic.

*marhalah: an Islamic measure of distance from antiquity, equivalent to roughly 44km, and considered about a village-length. Joe is sort-of correct; the quickest route from Vienna to Bratislava is about 80 km (but the shortest is 67 km).

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Some swearing!

A/N: This chapter is probably not as good as the other ones, I just needed to introduce Yugyeom and show Jaebum’s feelings towards him, there’s stuff about both characters that you don’t know yet and I need to slide that into the story slowly, without rushing! But anyways, I hope you enjoy this!

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“Is everything alright?” 

You have lost count of how many times you’ve asked that question since your first class had finished yet Jaebum’s reply remained the same and you were lowkey starting to freak out a little bit. Everytime those words got out of your mouth, he simply nodded and shrugged as if he had set that as a default response to everything you told him, and it was starting to get worrying. The lack of playful or snarky replies was not a normal from him.

Class after class and on your way to lunch he kept quiet, hands in his pockets and eyes down on his shoes. Jaebum was visibly upset by something but he wasn’t telling you what it was for some reason. Meanwhile, in your thoughts, you replayed the entire morning, from the moment the two of you started bickering about your apartment to when Yugyeom was brought into the conversation. There was nothing that could have offended him, at least, that’s what you thought but you also knew Jaebum was his own particular person and anything could have triggered this weird behaviour. 

Whatever it was, it seemed like he wasn’t close to telling you. 

On the other hand Jaebum was simply deep in his own thoughts, focused on what had happened earlier with that classmate of yours. He used to consider Youngjae as a threat but after seeing the way you blushed and giggled when that other guy turned around to talk with you, things got slightly complicated for Jaebum. It was obvious you had feelings towards Yugyeom, why didn’t you have them towards him when he had been sent by that spell though? Did something go wrong? Maybe he was really brought to the wrong person, mistakes could happen.

If that had happened, he was fucked.

Royally screwed.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? I don’t mind buying something for you Jaebum” Your voice made him move his eyes away from his shoes to your face, a small feeling of anxiety tightening up his chest. You definitely weren’t the wrong person. “Jaebum?”

“Ah, no, it’s fine, I’m not really hungry” He muttered quietly, sitting down by the table where you had settled down your tray. The way his smile didn’t reach his eyes, the lack of playfulness in his voice just gave away he was up to something.

“What’s wrong?” You asked sitting down besides him, taking one of your fries to eat it. Keeping your eyes on him, you noticed how he was casually playing with one of his silver rings, a gesture that you would later learn to recognize as Jaebum being bothered by something “Did Jinyoung say something mean to you?”

“Nah, he just stared at me as if I was going to magically combust or something for the entire time” Jaebum replied, his shoulders raising in a lazy shrug once again “Isn’t he joining us for lunch? You two looked really close to each other”

“Jinyoung and I are like the bestest of friends, we’ve always been like that” You explained to him, eating another one of your fries “And nope, he’s busy revising for a test in the library so he won’t have lunch with us today” The excessive amount of silence coming from him made you turn your head to check if he was alright once again “Why? Are you jealous?” You asked nudging his side, a smirk on your lips.

Jaebum could have used his chance to bring up Yugyeom there, he thought there was no point in beating around the bush when you could sincerely tell him what your feelings were but, he also knew you weren’t one to share personal stuff so easily and that you had opened up enough for today when you explained him things about your career. He could predict pressuring you about your classmate would only end up in an argument and that was the last thing he needed at this point.

“Jealous? Why would I be? I’m the boyfriend not the bestfriend” He replied with a confident smirk, leaning back against his seat while he turned his head to look at you.

At the sight of Jaebum finally relaxing, the weight that had been on your shoulders the entire morning was quickly lifted off from you and a genuine chuckle left your lips “You’re right, why would you be jealous?” You asked, smiling, focusing on your food, missing the way his eyes scanned your face with a small smile, you agreeing with him just made his chest feel incredibly less tight. Maybe everything wasn’t going as bad as he thought.

Before you could stop his hand, Jaebum reached inside and stole one of your fries, suddenly feeling hungry as soon as his body relaxed. With eyes as wide as plates you stared at him as he guided your delicious fry into his mouth, chewing happily “What?” He asked looking at you, the smirk on his lips telling you he knew very well what was happening.

“Hell no, you’re not stealing my food” You muttered, pushing your tray further away from him. Jaebum chuckled, reaching out to steal another fry but you successfully slapped his hand away “You said you weren’t hungry!”

“Those are just really good” He replied shrugging, stealing a bunch of fries from your plate before you could stop him. Although you wanted to look scary and frustrated a chuckle escaped your lips when he started laughing at your reaction. “Would you really let your boyfriend starve like that?” He asked pouting, leaning into you, getting so close to your face that you couldn’t help but turn as red as a tomato.

Jaebum was momentarily shocked at you getting shy, his eyes shining with triumph as he kept his face close enough for you to feel his breathing caressing your cheeks “Y-You’re not my-”

“What? I can’t hear you over your embarrassed stuttering” He asked, cutting off your sentence. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes almost instantly. They were the darkest you’ve ever seen, it was like staring straight into an abyss, but it was the kind of abyss you wanted to fall into, you knew that probably didn’t make any sense but nothing around Jaebum did.

“Jaebum” You said his name quietly, your voice turning all shaky as he slightly moved his body closer to you. If he wanted, he could perfectly tilt his head a little and your lips would be pressing against the other’s, you weren’t even worried about people looking at you, all you could think of was that night where he started making out with you and how soft and plump his lips had felt against yours.

“You should really push me away if you don’t want me to kiss you in front of all this people” His eyes fell to your lips for some brief seconds before he looked back up into yours, trying to decipher what was going through your mind now that the two of you were so close to each other. Jaebum’s lips tilted up into a devilish smirk and you felt how your heart froze, you were screwed “I’m your boyfriend though, I shouldn’t even be asking for permission”

Your brain was so confused at this point and your feelings were all over the place. You didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, Jaebum was still the stranger that broke into your house last night, he was still the guy you didn’t know much about and for some reason he was making you feel things nobody has ever made you feel before. The way you worried about him when he seemed to be more quiet than usual, the way he made your heart skip beats when he got close to you or how he made you smile with his silly behaviour. Was it possible to catch feelings for somebody in just a few hours? Or did you simply have a case of infatuation over the handsome stranger living with you right now?

Whatever the answer to that question was, your body acted on it’s own and before you could process what was really about to happen, you closed your eyes and waited for him to close the distance between the two of you.

Jaebum looked at you with a small smile on his lips, his heart wasn’t beating as fast as yours and his feelings weren’t as strong as yours but you didn’t need to know that, you didn’t need to know what was really going on. Willing to get distracted from the guilt and awful thoughts roaming his mind, he gently raised one of his hands to cup your cheek and caressed it gently, tracing circular shapes on it. When you unconsciously leaned into his touch he realized the power he had on you was way stronger than whatever this Yugyeom had on you, this battle wasn’t lost, he still had a chance.

Willing to tease you a little bit, Jaebum leaned closer and brushed his lips against yours, not kissing you but letting you feel a taste of what his kisses would be like. The sexual tension between the two of you had gone from 0 to 100 incredibly fast, you were putty in his hands and you were starting to get a little bit frustrated, with yourself for being like this and with him for play with you. Before you could snap at him and get all pouty, he moved his lips closer to your ear, his hot breathing sending shivers down your spine.

“Better wait till we get home” He whispered, pressing a small kiss against the sensitive spot under your ear “We do not want to give your classmates a show now, do we?” Jaebum asked, his tone low and soft yet there was an authority hidden behind his words that had you pressing your legs together under the table. Not finding your own voice, you simply shook your head at his question, hearing his smile as he leaned back to look at you “Such a good girl” 

He winked at you and went back to eating your fries as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you, while you simply stared at him, opening and closing your mouth as if you had forgotten how to breathe. Jaebum chuckled, looking down at the tray that was now placed between the both of you. The idiot used your little moment as a distraction to pull the food closer to his side of the table. He was smart, you had to give him that, at least.

“Can I have some or not?” He asked, innocently pointing down at the salty fries, the smirk on his lips hiding all the sinful things that had crossed his mind a few minutes ago.

“I’m not even hungry now” You mumbled sighing, rolling your eyes as you tried to keep your fed up act up but the both of you knew you had been weak, that you should have pushed him away and since you didn’t, you would have to deal with his tiring teasing for the rest of the day.

“You know, we could really-”

“Hey guys! Can I sit here?” 

Yugyeom’s voice interrupted whatever Jaebum was about to propose and you slightly tensed up, knowing he was definitely not happy about it. However, instead of throwing a tantrum like he usually did when Youngjae was around Jaebum stayed quiet, he simply let his eyes go from your tray of food to the sudden intruder, slowly, in a threatening way that was absolutely ignored by Yugyeom who innocently looked at the two of you. Jaebum wasn’t buying his act though, he had lived in Hell long enough to recognize liars from miles away and his alarms started ringing when he met this guy.

It could also be because he was a liar himself and he knew his own kind but then again, that was another story for another day, his lies were not the biggest problem he had in his hands at the moment.

“Sure!” Your expected answer stole a scoff from Jaebum’s lips, but again you decided to not pay too much attention to it, he had already showed he wasn’t happy when you were nice to people of the opposite sex, didn’t he act the same way around Youngjae? You had assumed he would be this way with Yugyeom and even Jinyoung, surprisingly, he accepted your best friend rather easily. Besides Yugyeom never offered to sit with you at lunch before, why would you reject the wonderful opportunity you’ve been given?

Your crush glanced around as he sat down, smiling at you and ignoring the glares Jaebum kept sending him “Jinyoung is not joining you guys?” He asked curiously. Jaebum shrugged, not really excited about your new companion, more focused on your fries and letting Yugyeom know he was clearly disinterested in him than anything else. “Oh right! He’s probably revising for that test they have later? Youngjae studied really hard for it”

Your neighbor’s name picked Jaebum’s interest, his head suddenly perked up a little as his eyes landed on Yugyeom, the gesture looked kind of cute, he had looked like a puppy whose name had been called “You know Youngjae?” He asked quietly, eating one of his fries again

“Yeah! We’re like bestfriends, he was the one that introduced me to (Y/N)” Yugyeom explained briefly, you smiled and nodded quietly, too shy to join the conversation.

“Great” He muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he looked back down at his fries thinking he would definitely need to have a word with Youngjae, who did he think he was to introduce you to random guys?

“So I kind of wanted to talk about our project” Yugyeom suddenly said, willing to get your attention on him, you noticed how Jaebum sat up straighter and glared at the male sitting across from you, Yugyeom was not being rude, why did he have to act like this?

“What is it? Have you got any ideas?” You asked with a small smile, kind of excited about it. Yugyeom was a really good singer, you were definitely going to ace this project by his side. 

“I was actually going to ask you the same, I don’t know what could we do, like where do we even start?”

After that question, Yugyeom and you engaged yourselves in a conversation that had so many technical words that Jaebum couldn’t help but get incredibly bored. He didn’t understand why you were making music so complicated, composing songs was not easy but it was definitely not as technical and robotical as the two of you were making it sound, it was all about feelings and inspiration, everything else would sound boring and forced. Jaebum limited himself to nod sometimes as if he didn’t want Yugyeom to know he was incredibly lost in the conversation, his eyes were down on the fries that little by little, dissapeared from your plate and when he didn’t have anything else to eat he became too bored of the conversation. You should be spending some bonding time with him, keep having those intense and passionate moments but your classmate was being an incredibly annoying obstacle.

“You can’t really force it, it will sound empty” Jaebum suddenly said, interrupting the conversation you were having with Yugyeom. He hadn’t really meant to say that out loud but for some reason his tongue thought it would be a good idea to voice out his thoughts.

“Well, we can’t just wait for inspiration to come to us, we have a deadline” Yugyeom replied with a gentle tone yet the frown in his face said Jaebum had ticked him off a little bit.

“Yeah, maybe we could use something of what I’ve already produced and make some lyrics for it?” You proposed, trying not to choose a side “It wouldn’t be too forced because I really take my time when it comes to producing songs”

“But that would be kind of unfair to you” Yugyeom said with a small pout on his lips, Jaebum bit the inside of his cheek trying not to snap at this guy “I mean, I have to help you, it’s our project after all” While Jaebum thought he was being an absolute idiot, you couldn’t help but think he was incredibly sweet for not wanting to take advantage of your previous works.

“You won’t get a good mark if you force it out” Jaebum insisted “I’m sure she has something good enough, it would give you time to come up with good lyrics” 

“I’m not saying her songs aren’t good, I’m just saying I want to help too” Yugyeom insisted

While you knew Yugyeom meant good and he didn’t want to use some works you’ve worked on by yourself, you also knew what Jaebum meant. Music was never truly good when you forced it out and that obviously would take some points from your final mark, however, waiting for inspiration could also mean you didn’t come up with something and ended up failing.

“You know what’s not really helping” Jaebum asked looking at him, his head tilted “Your stubborn attitude”

“Jaebum!” You said extremely surprised at his sudden rude comment. You got that he could be jealous, you could stand him ignoring your friends and not talking with them but being rude with a reason? You would definitely not allow that.

Jaebum looked at you with a scowl on his face, letting you know that he was not expecting you to take Yugyeom’s side on the discussion, he really thought you would back him up but again, he could have truly underestimated the power this stranger had on you. Maybe it wasn’t as intense as his but Yugyeom had enough influence on you to convince you he was the bad one in this story and Jaebum hated that. It would ruin anything.

It would ruin the only chance he had.

Scoffing, Jaebum looked down at his food before pushing the tray away “You know what? I’m not that hungry” He said standing up, fixing his clothes and not even sparing you another glance as your eyes followed his movements, not sure if he was just being dramatic or if he was truly upset. “I’ll wait for you at home”

“Jaebum wait” 

Before you could say something else, Jaebum walked away, ignoring your last attempt to apologize and leaving you there with Yugyeom. He couldn’t be that offended, all you wanted to do was show him that he shouldn’t be rude to others like that, Yugyeom didn’t deserve that kind of treatment when all he wanted was to be a gentleman but then, why did you feel so shitty as you watched him walk away?

Yugyeom clasped his hands together, making you turn on your seat so you could focus on him “Sorry about that” You quickly apologized, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“It’s okay, everyone has bad days” He said with a small smile “I was thinking we could meet up in my place, try to come up with something and if not we could use something yours, how does that sound?” 

“Good, I think that would be great”

You forced a smile up to your lips, ignoring the way your heart clenched as you thought about Jaebum.

Why was he so frustrated? 

What was wrong with him?

Taglist: @gold--gucciempress​ @harringtonsblackgf​

[incarnateirony]

So recently I made a post (x) about reasons behind the fanon schisms that divorce themselves from the actual canon. Some of it has to do with people hyper-identifying and not being ready for the message, others come with people that spent far too many years with open and loosely filled sandboxes and character definition in early seasons that gave the characters a certain plasticity.

So @dotthings ​ recently made a post (x) in sync with this to some level as well, focusing more on one particular lane’s behaviors.

This, ultimately, sent me off onto a rant in my server’s meta-salt section (aka #meta-pickling) that I figured I’d immortalize in the public view as well:

Bronlies were honestly who I had in mind when it came to things like early open sandbox vs archetypes. Loose archetypes let them imagine very openly what the characters were like. The loose canon sandbox was also very wide and flexible, the text (much less subtext) wasn't as dense.

But the longer SPN went on the less room there was and the more it required them directly pushing back against the canon content, recalibrating it, warping it. Early canon didn't make them confront where their readings were off base because the base was already slim. As the canon evolved and they drifted left of it, they still had several years where they could kind of do fuck all, and by the time canon was boxing them in, they had years of patterned behavior of denying/sculpting canon.

Key moments I can think of are S5 with Dark Side of the Moon active misinterpretation or that accursed Zachariah line where they ignore the end of the episode showing it was horse shit.

At this point they were already running into canon walls they kept trying to make me about them, but no matter how many circular arguments they ran with the content while missing the entire point, they remained objectively wrong, even if they wanted to convince themselves they were right, so they continued veering more and more aggressively left.

Gamble era didn't help at all, and it's probably why they love her, bc once again the text got, IDK. It was diet text. Lots of bounce around room for chaotic reads. So by the time Carver came back and as showrunner and hit the reset button they were already way the fuck off center.

S4-5, and S8+ is when, for lack of a better phrase, the characters got souls--not like in literal storyline, but in the complexity of their vision and coming to life.

Sometimes those souls did things we do or don't like, but the expansion of those souls over the kripkegamblecarverdabb sandbox that proves fairly hollow without it, is also what makes it very hard for people that just wanna use them as barbies to have... room to interpret the canon text/world as that.

I remember on rewatch how utterly painful watching S6 was, and it has nothing to do with Cas' story for me as for many people. The characters were... plastic. They were barely even representative of their old archetypes. After a few dense years of serialization and expansion in S4-5, all of a sudden they were acting like teenage girls, but it was boy drama!!!

S6 bros didn't even resemble what S4-5 bros had grown into, not even remotely.

I'm gonna say it: in this metaphor, Cas is the serpent that gave a soul to the show. Gamble try to shovel him off, frame him as a villain, and remove him from the picture and it straight-up backfired. Think gnostic, where Chuck (the author) created the bodies that became man, but it wasn’t until something that existed outside of it reached through that they became humanity as we know it, complete with souls.

It’s no surprise how often villain-Chuck-the-bad-writer brings up her work and ideas as awesome, either. Leviathans are great! Monsters! Rararar. Ooga booga. What’s a Cas.

He yielded a whole level of complexity that there was no “putting back in the box.” Gamble tried, but the show started crashing and burning. By S7, she tried to revert to “cardboard cutout guys dancing in loosely defined world with a year long monster of the week” storyline and honestly, we saw the results. The same people deny what the results were despite all existing information to the contrary, but that’s nothing new.

But at the end of the day, doubling down and failing to figure out where they veered off course while insisting on playing barbies with S1-3 style characters and demanding their fanon ideas of the characters from those seasons remain the current course leads to being wildly divorced from the show while ignoring what gave the show it’s complexity, it’s strength, and it’s soul. A show that started failing without that element -- both the thing/character who was the original source but also the native complexity and wide-spanning emotional spectrum each character themselves develops after this point, independent of the original creature/character of the advent. 

Carver era may have done some things other parts of fandom don’t like, too. The characters disappoint people at times and challenge them at others. But the Carver reset seems to be when the schism completely manifested, because those minor areas of story-disappointment were still getting warped by habit into other schemas, and by the time we drifted into Dabb era, who completely opted to subvert the old ways, in ways Carver only flirted with, these people were off in some whole-assed AU not too dissimilar from the random shoddy drafts in Chuck’s head, which aren’t The Ones. Not the Real Sam and Dean, as even Chuck put it. Not this Sam. Not this Dean. As the characters said. Just plastic playthings.

Which is utterly fascinating because while these same fandom people understand Chuck is a shot at them (one even called Dabb’s writing “vindictive”), they also choose to align themselves with Chuck’s POV to this day, despite knowing the futility of rooting for the bad guy. They know the bad guy is going to lose. But the bad guy is the only one that endorses their plastique character ideas and creates the worlds and settings they want, rather than rooting for the individualized characters as people all their own, outside of Chuck’s point of view. And due to upend it. 

I can’t imagine trying to watch canon on that level, where historically you’ve fused the villain viewpoint to the heroes’ and identify the heroes as their suffering, rather than their victory. Chuck is the highlighter on it, but this tracks--such as back to DSOTM I mentioned above, where they embraced an old Zachariah line that Zachariah himself even said was bullshit at the end of the episode. This litters time and again through the show, lording how Michael talks down a character they didn’t like or X, Y, and Z elements; wanting these heroes to fail, to be reduced to their barest blackened form and never regrow. To remove the soul of the show and watch them melt in a loosely constructed sandbox.

I fear inquiring how they watch other TV shows.

[psychewithwings]

Heart Shaped Triangles

Warnings: fluffy, love triangle, drinking

Let’s just say that being an exorcist has it’s serious downsides... one of those being there is hardly any time for dating. Your friend group in particular was full of singles, hence the friends-tines? Its that what they call it? You weren’t sure but you were happy to be attending brunch with all of your friends. Rin was hosting, it had surprised you that he even thought of hosting a party at all for Valentines day. You figured he was just trying to fill the space, with his brother and Shiemi finally calling it official. “Please come to my party?” he’d pleaded. “I don’t want it to be too quiet around here, it’ll just remind me of how long it’s been since I even went on a date.” Rin had a point there and you didn’t want to start counting the days, weeks, months it’d been for you. 

“Hey everyone,” you called. You were met with muted hellos and grumbled greetings. “What’s this?” you said walking in to the dreary living room. Shima, Suguro, and Kamiki were already sitting, slouched and with dull expressions on their faces. They all rolled their eyes up at you, waiting for you to figure it out. “We’re all alone dude,” said Kamiki. You took a deep breath, it was up to you to stay positive. “Yes, but I have prosecco and chocolate covered strawberries,” you said holding out the canvas grocery bags. Shima grabbed the bag and peered inside. “Damn! How much did you get???” You laughed, “I lost count honestly... I also have eggs for Rin...” you trailed off. “Kitchen,” Kamiki and Suguro said in tandem. 

“Hey hey, I got your eggs,” you said placing your last grocery bag on the counter. Rin had his head in the fridge, looking for something. “Yes! Thank you, your the best,” he appreciated as he pulled some bread from the fridge. You hopped up on the counter and laughed down at him. “You keep your bread in the fridge?” He looked up with tired eyes. “It keeps longer in the fridge okay?” He shuffled over to where you sat and leaned his head against your shoulder. “Hi,” he mumbled into your T-shirt. You wrapped your arms around him, “hey,” you giggled. You rested your chin on top of his head. “You’re so warm,” he nuzzled into you before pulling away. His deep blue eyes looked less exasperated now. “Man, I needed that hug,” he sighed and turned back to the sizzling pan on the stove. He pushed the ingredients around with a wooden spoon before adding a bit more water and placing the lid on top again. “Shiemi?” you asked. Rin turned back to look at you his face scrunched with disapproval. “Nahh I got over that ages ago... it’s just-” he pauses to check something in the oven. “I can’t believe I haven’t been on a date in almost a year...” Your eyes widened in shock, “that long, eh?”  Rin turned to look at you, a slight pink tint to his cheeks, “yeah.” You hopped off the counter and got a bowl down from his cabinet. “Me too,” you admitted as you started cracking eggs ing the bowl. “Oh, hey, you don’t have to do that,” he said as he tried to take over your self-assigned task. You pushed him away and gave him a smile as you whisked the eggs.

Rin kicked you out to go help cheer the others up while he got the plates together and set the table. “Can’t I help you-” “No, it’s a surprise,” he’d informed you with a wink. You walked back out to the living room and stared surprised at the bottle and a bit of wine that was already gone. “Did you guys even have glasses?” you asked giggling. Shima looked up at you with amber eyes. “Nope,” he laughed and pulled you onto the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist. You watched as Suguro and Kamiki were arguing about something. “Listen, I’m telling you...” “I’m googling it right now Kamiki, but you’re totally wrong.” 

You leaned your head against Shima’s chest and grabbed the wine bottle from him and took a swig. “Sorry I was gone so long, I just wanted to give Rin a hand,” you explained. Shima’s grip around you tightened. “You’re gonna have to make up for your absence earlier...” he sighed sarcastically. You sat up and looked at him, his face tilted playfully. “Oh yeah?” He nodded and pulled you back into him. “You gotta stay right here, okay?” Shima used his hand to stroke up and down your arm. “How much have you had to drink?” you asked suspiciously. He was normally flirtatious but this was more than usual. “Not that much actually.” His touch was warm and inviting and you could feel yourself relaxing into the rhythm of his gesture. “Mmhmm,” you responded sarcastically. Shima sighed, “really look at the people in this room and you think I look drunk?” You watched the argument between Kamiki and Suguro get more heated as they stared at the small screen of Suguro’s phone. “You googled it wrong...” You giggled slightly and then rolled your eyes. “Fair point,” you admitted. “You comfy?” he asked. You were, so comfy that you could only nod against his shirt. You could hear Shima’s heart beat as well as the sound of his breathing. It was relaxing, inducing a sort of meditative state. 

“Okay!, It’s all ready,” Rin called.You moved to get up, feeling slightly groggy, and Shima caught your hand. “Hey, sit next to me okay?” “Okay,” you similed and moved with the others to sit at the large circular table. All the plates were seemingly the same except one, it was next to where Rin was seated. Rin grabbed hold of your free hand, pulling you out of Shima’s grasp. “This one is yours,” he beamed. You stared down at the plate. There were extra strawberries on the plate, which were your favourites, as well as a pastry shaped like a heart. Kamiki groaned, “why does Y/n get a heart shaped one?” Rin smiled at you, “cuz, Y/n is special.” There was a softness to his gaze and you looked down embarrassed by Rin’s affection and the silence that followed. You looked back to Rin whose face had dropped, forehead crinkled as he looked past you. You turned to the other side to catch Shima mouthing what looked like to be ‘fuck off’ at Rin. 

“Shima, can I talk to you for a sec, outside?” Rin asked. “Absolutely,” Shima replied, tension settling in the air. Both men pushed their chairs back aggressively and rose to walk towards the door. You sat there with wide eyes string at Suguro and Kamiki who had a similar expression. “Sh-should we eat?” asked Suguro. You shrugged and bit into the pastry. It was delightful... as always. 

[molusca]

she apologized for how she handled the situation and apologized for brushing off someone's honest criticisms as hate. what more is she meant to do? throw herself onto a pyre? is she not allowed to feel lousy that this whole thing blew up in her face? because she's an adult and she made a mistake, she's not allowed to be sad or stressed? she's still an imperfect human. apologizing immediately usually means people are still sensitive to their own hurt of being called out because it's fresh and on their mind so it tends to slip into their apology, but if she had waited any longer to compose herself, you guys would probably have an issue with how long she took. also, in aaaaaallll of this, I've have yet to once see what exactly about her work is so problematic? I've read her fic and I personally can't see anything wrong, although I will admit that yes, I'm a white ciswoman but I'd like to think I'm aware of negative tropes. but the only thing touted is "it made an mlm uncomfortable" but HOW??? honestly, I want to know! if anything so I can avoid doing the same thing! how is anyone meant to learn when you're not bringing up these points as often as you're explicitly laying out the problems in her apology and whatnot. I've seen 6 posts about how shit the apology was and for why and I've not once seen the original comment detailing why the fic was problematic, and I've been looking on twit, tumblr, insta, and ao3. if it's been deleted, why isn't anyone stating again and again what's wrong? also, if someone is making fic/art you don't like, don't. interact. with. it. there's tons of stuff on ao3 and twit that I don't like, some of it that I think is disgusting (do you know how many fics there are with keith/kosmos?) and I just scroll past it cause it can't hurt me if I don't read it. there's one artist that's pretty popular on Twitter and I personally really hate they way they draw klance but it's all over my tl. I respect that person's art style and creativeness and keep on moving. other people enjoy it, good for them. and if I start reading something and get surprised with something I dont like, I leave! find people who write things you like and stop engaging with creators who's things you don't like, as far as I know no one is holding a gun to your head making you read problematic fic. also for as much as you rag on her for the words she used to apologize, you don't seem to be considering your own words when offering criticism. if Taylor mistook the person's words as hate, couldn't it have been because the way he worded the complaint was done hatefully? lastly, no one, absolutely no one, is required to talk about world issues when they're running a fandom account,no matter how "big" they are. we all know what's going on in the world, we're surrounded by sad and stressful stories practically 24/7 and if someone isn't, they're probably curating their social feeds to be that way (like you should do when it come to kl content creators you don't like). people sending hate in Taylor's defense are in the wrong I agree, and this isn't hate its critism its a discussion, but Taylor isn't responsible for, how many people did you say? 16k on twit? even if she said hey guys stop, you think they would? she's can't control all those people and expecting her to is nonsense. I see so many younger fans expecting perfection in their fandoms and that just isn't going to happen. yes we should be striving to be better but no one is ever going to be perfect. not you, not me, not the mlm person, not Taylor, not anyone on any side of this argument. the only way to avoid this kind of circular dog piling and hate sending is to better curate your fandom experience by ignore those you have issues with.- 🦛

she apologized for how she handled the situation and apologized for brushing off someone's honest criticisms as hate. what more is she meant to do?

im pretty sure i said its good that she realizes she handled it poorly. but she makes the whole apology about this, doesnt directly talk about the issues and i know someone went to her to talk about it. also, it took her a day to say something about it so it wasnt exactly immediate (in the sense people had already stopped talking about it but that doesnt mean they werent still bothered). the apology was directed at mlm, and i havent seen one saying it felt genuine. of couse she can be hurt but when you apologize to a marginalized group the focus shouldnt be your feelings, but the feelings of the ones you have hurt.

I've have yet to once see what exactly about her work is so problematic?

she admits to be projecting on lance. so she makes him very femine and keith very masculine. and ok, gay couples like that do exist, but she is a woman projecting in this situation so this bothers people. putting mlm in this position is a harmful steriotype, bc it feels very heterosexual. this is a trope, it unfortunately happens a lot and its harmful. women need to be aware of what they are representing when drawing/writing mlm because well, real mlm are going to see it, and no one likes to feel like a fetish to others. and its not our place to question if the criticism is right or wrong when we are not mlm, so if you read this and think “but thats not a problem thats not a fetish etc” well, its not your place to judge that. theres more to it and you probably could get a better answer from a mlm sorry.

if someone is making fic/art you don't like, don't. interact. with. it. there's tons of stuff on ao3 and twit that I don't like, some of it that I think is disgusting (do you know how many fics there are with keith/kosmos?) and I just scroll past it cause it can't hurt me if I don't read it.

please, lets not compare a minority pointing out harmful tropes with. something fucking illegal.

as you said, you are a cis woman, of course its not going to hurt you in this case. but if people are making harmful content its not a simple matter of “dont interact with it” because they will still be promoting it, other people are going to read it, and media influences how we see minorities so of course people will not like when they see bad portrayal of them. also, tumblr sucks so even if you want to just “dont interact with it” its hard because even after blocking you can still cross the content of someone. not sure how it works on twitter but anyway this discussion started on tumblr and tumblr doesnt stop people who were bothered by her to avoid her by blocking.

if Taylor mistook the person's words as hate, couldn't it have been because the way he worded the complaint was done hatefully?

i think she deleted the ask by now, but i dont remember the ask being hateful. i remember someone asking if she was a fujoshi, and another person mentioned that mlm didnt like the way she portrayals klance. i dont remember it being hateful. but again, she apologized for handling it badly. its just that she stops there.

no one, absolutely no one, is required to talk about world issues when they're running a fandom account,no matter how "big" they are. we all know what's going on in the world, we're surrounded by sad and stressful stories practically 24/7 and if someone isn't, they're probably curating their social feeds to be that way

ignoring world issues is a privilege. if someone is able to turn off from all the problems in the world, its a privilige. yes no one should talk aobut it all the time thats not even healthy, but to never talk about it is a privilege. thats what black people are saying, they cant just turn off from racism, so yes they are going to expect white people to do something. online honestly i cant do shit, i dont think anything i reblog here does a difference and i do what i can in my own country, but she has a plataform that could help bring awareness. again, its a privilege to be able to curate your social media to be a perfect happy place.

even if she said hey guys stop, you think they would? she's can't control all those people and expecting her to is nonsense.

maybe they wouldnt, but if people were doing this type of thing in my name, in my defense, i would at least say something about it idk. she cant control them but she makes nothing to show that she disagrees or look for the people being harassed to say something about it.

the only way to avoid this kind of circular dog piling and hate sending is to better curate your fandom experience by ignore those you have issues with.

when it comes to simple things like “i prefer taller lance and i dont like taller keith” yeah, its fine to ignore people who draw taller keith and move on with your life or something like that. but we are talking about mlm, a real group of people, being upset for being portrayed in a harmful and steriotype way. its everywhere in fandom, and in real life. they cant escape from real life, and then they come to fandom where everyone wants some escapism and have to deal with more issues. its tiring

[michaels-blackhat]

overstayed welcome

day 1/31 of my massive holiday project

for @andrea-lyn; I hope you enjoy this darling. It’s been killing me not to just send this to you. This one is not safe for work, and probably the only smut I will ever write.

Alex smiled down at Michael, curls wild against the metal bed of the pickup truck. This was a dumb idea, even on the outskirts of town sex in the back of the pickup was not the best idea, but well. These things happen.

Especially when Michael had been teasing all night, when Michael let his hand wander from the steering wheel to the seat, from the seat to Alex’s thigh, from his thigh to the fly of his jeans. Really, Alex was only human. There was only so much temptation he could take. 

They didn’t even make it inside. The dark of Max’s house was inviting, but Alex hadn’t even walked around the back of the truck when Michael had met him for a kiss. After that, well dropping the tailgate was a lot closer and easier than getting into the guest room.

Now Alex stared down at Michael and smiled as Michael worked his dick with his hand, his eyes half-lidded and his smirk obscene.

“Mmm, just couldn’t keep my hands to myself,” Michael said as he paused his hand, fingers lingering at the base of his cock with a light touch towards Alex’s balls.

Alex kneeled over him, knees on either side of Michael’s waist and pants already abandoned, thrown somewhere near the corner of the truck bed. Alex smiled down at Michael one more time, before he moved his hand to cover Michael’s.

“Better do something with them then,” Alex replied before he started to move Michael’s hand under his. Michael picked up his pace and Alex let his smile drop as a moan escaped from his mouth. “Fuck,” Alex breathed into the night as Michael moved his other hand so that he had a firm grip on Alex’s ass. He pushed at Alex until he slid up higher, until his knees bracketed Michael’s head.

Michael smirked again before he lifted head. “Alex,” he said, voice rough and ghosting over his own hand and Alex’s hot skin. “Come on, I want you to come on me.”

“Fuck,” Alex said as he released. Come spilled onto Michael’s chin, onto his smile, into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Alex said again as he looked up and saw headlights approach.

He scrambled towards his jeans as Michael search for something to wipe up the mess on his face.

“What the fuck,” came Max’s voice just after the sound of a car door closing. He appeared from around the truck’s cabin.

Alex sat in the bed of the truck, pants not on but covering up his private parts, while Michael tried to use his bare arm to get the come from his chin as he licked his lips. Michael smiled, unapologetic. Alex had the decency to look a little ashamed.

Max just shut his eyes and walked inside the house.

-

Michael’s truck wasn’t parked out front and Max gave a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his brother- he did, honestly sometimes too much- it was just that he didn’t know how much longer he could live with him and Alex.

It was supposed to be for a week, a week while they finished renovations on their new house. Their new house with a slightly leaky roof, drafty windows, and a bathroom that had to be completely gutted so that it was accessible for Alex at all times. It was supposed to take a week at most, the new windows and roof being priority and the bathroom finishing while they were there. But that wasn’t what happened. The leaky roof caused mold and warping and now it’s been a month and Max regrets his choice. Rosa had offered the cabin back to them, she could stay with Maria, but Max had said it was fine and really, Rosa was all moved in already.

No one thought it would be that bad, Max least of all.

Max had not taken into account Michael and Alex’s, well extremely loud sex life. Honestly, Max should have expected it, really. Over the last few years he had lost track of how many times he and anyone really had walked in on the two of them making out. They had no shame, and as a whole the group had accepted that.

Max just really, really wished they would learn shame. Please. Or at least learn how to close a door. Or not have sex in the middle of the living room. Or in the bed of Michael’s truck as it was parked outside. There was only so much of Michael or Alex he wanted to see, and he had reached his quote for a lifetime within the two week mark.

With one last look at the empty spot where Michael’s truck currently lived, Max sighed in relief and opened his front door.

-

Alex bit his lip and tried to hold in his moan. The guest room at Max’s house was as open and bright as every other room in the house. The door was one of those chic barn-door numbers that did nothing to muffle the sounds from within.

Michael hitched Alex’s legs further up his shoulders and raked his nails down the flat of Alex’s stomach. The blunt nails dragged over his skin, little lines of red trailing down his chest and Alex had to turn his head so that the pillow could catch his rough exhale. Alex could feel Michael’s grin as he gently nipped the inside of Alex’s thighs before he returned his attention to Alex’s cock.

“Fuck,” Alex breathed into the quiet, his voice the only sound besides the occassional deep exhale when Michael took a break to pepper Alex’s groin with kisses. “Michael.” Alex’s voice was soft and breathy. He closed his eyes, neck and back tense as he arched off the bed and toward Michael’s mouth.

Michael moved to take Alex’s dick back in his mouth when the door slid open and Max walked in.

Alex curled his fingers into the pillow by his head before he grabbed it and covered his face with it.

“Hey, before Alex come home,” Max started, eyes fixed on the menu in his hand. He looked up and immediately turned around again and clenching his eyes closed. “And Alex is home already. But the Jeep isn’t here.”

The pillow muffled Alex’s yell as Michael answered, still with his legs between Alex’s thighs. “Yeah, it needs some work so I picked him up today.” His tone was conversation as his hands stroked the skin on Alex’s flank, from his hip to his armpit and back down again. “Don’t worry about us for dinner, we’re going out tonight.”

Alex could hear the grin in his voice. He groaned into the pillow again.

Alex heard Max as he walked into the door, eyes undoubtedly still closed, before he heard roll of the door shutting,

“Now, where were we?”

-

Max picked up the couch cushion and looked under it. His phone was missing, again, and he swore he left it in the living room, on the table where he generally left it. The problem was that Michael had no problem picking things up and moving them out of his way and Alex had no problem ‘cleaning up’ after people in his attempt to clean everything to his high standards.

The results were always the same: Michael would move something, Alex would get annoyed that Michael threw something somewhere, Alex would clean up while he argued with Michael, and Max would lose something else.

Max sighed. It was getting harder and harder to live with his brother and his brother’s boyfriend. It was bad enough that he’s seen his brother’s dick more times than he ever wanted. It was bad enough to the two of them couldn’t keep their hands off each other or their clothes on themselves. It was bad enough that his fridge was overfilled with take out containers that they rarely remembered to eat and that Michael was incapable of cleaning as he cooked and made a huge mess.

Now he couldn’t even find his cell phone when he always left it on the same table in the living room so he could hear it go off but wouldn’t get distracted while reading. It had the beautiful bonus of listening to the two of them bicker.

“Hey,” he called into the kitchen where Michael and Alex were debating the pros and cons of built-in cabinets and how Alex wanted to put more storage bins in them and Michael wanted to use the shelves to display their things. 

Honestly, Max wasn’t sure why they were arguing about it, besides the fact that he’s now ninety-eight percent sure that this was another form of foreplay for them.

“Hey,” he called again, louder this time. “Have either of you seen my cell phone?”

The argument stopped and Alex poked his head into the living room. “Yeah,” he said. “It was on 10% so I had Michael plugged it in in your office.”

Max closed his eyes and bit his lip. He did not feel like having yet another conversation about respecting boundaries and not moving other people’s possessions or breaking into normally locked offices just to charge a cellphone.

-

The couch was deep, plush, and low to the ground, comfortable even when not used for its intended purpose. This was definitely not its intended purpose. But Michael with his ass hanging off the edge, knees on the ground and spread, was just too good an image to pass up.

Alex could hear Michael’s muffled curses and he ran his hands up Michael’s thighs, fingers scratching through the hair, until he reach his ass. He pressed his palms into the swell of his cheeks and moved his thumbs until they just brushed his rim. 

Alex hid his grin in the inside of Michael’s thighs as Michael let out a loud moan. 

“Fuck Alex,” he panted, head turned uncomfortably to try and see Alex behind him. “Stop fucking teasing me.”

Alex nipped at his thigh and laughed. 

“You asked so nicely, how can I say no to that?”

Michael’s retort was cut off with another loud moan when Alex stopped teasing and leaned in to lick at Michael’s hole, just around the edges. 

“How’s that for teasing?” Alex asked, grin in his voice. 

Michael replied by moving his ass back toward Alex. Alex grinned again and moved back in. He held Michael tight to keep him from moving again and his tongue started a rhythm of circular strokes. On one stroke Alex moved his tongue so it slipped in, just enough for him to feel a slight resistance before he went back to his strokes. Slowly he started to probe with his tongue until Michael was loose and a moaning wreck on the couch. 

“Fuck,” was the only word Michael seemed capable of saying. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he reached back to put one hand in Alex’s hair to hold him in place. 

“Fuck,” he moaned when one of Alex’s hands stroked from his ass down to his balls, cupping them gently in the way he knew Michael liked, in the way that made his head spin. 

“Fuck!” Max yelled when he walked into the living room followed closely by the slam of the front door.

-

“Who ate my leftovers,” Alex complained from the kitchen, voice pitched loud enough to be heard through the whole house. Max knew the fridge was full of takeout containers. He also knew that there was only one form of leftovers that anyone in the house actually ate. Arturo’s tamales were sacred.

Max felt no regret as he took another bite.

Max rose from his desk and walked to the doorway. His long body leaned against the door frame as he watched Alex tear through the fridge.

“I don’t know,” Max said, faux casual. His appearance startled Alex who stepped back from the fridge on high alert. He settled once he saw it was Max. Max smirk. “Who ate my brother’s ass?”

Alex stilled, hand still on the fridge door. He closed it slowly. “Okay,” he acknowledged, voice resigned. He shut the door and walked back toward the guest room.

[animegenork]

Thoughts on Ivan Chapter 5

And so, here we are. I’m finally doing this.

As a disclaimer: I’m very very very very very very late, and I know that. But I also needed to finish the chapter before having official thoughts on it. (Because that makes sense.)

And now, I can.

I made a Google Doc to write down my reactions each day I played, as I am free 2 play and needed to keep track of this stuff. So here is the entirety of the mess that is my reacting to this chapter. (I’m putting all this under the cut so those who don’t care don’t gotta deal with this.)

TL;DR: Eloise and Ivan both fucked up. Eloise didn’t trust Ivan enough and ended up breaking Ivan’s trust. Now they’re at a bit of a stalemate because valid feeling vs. valid feeling = hella heated argument. [You’ll have to actually read to get the full story behind this.]

There we are. This was about 11 pages in Google Doc form. I had a lot of thoughts about this chapter.

I’m probably going to reference a couple things from this post I did where I dove into Ivan’s head a little bit. If you want to know more, take a read. I, uh... I ended up being really accurate, and I’m still freaked out.

To be clear, I bounced back and forth throughout this chapter on how I felt about Eloise and Ivan’s actions and words. And let me make a defining statement about my stance:

Eloise and Ivan both fucked up.

They did. Don’t try to convince me otherwise.

Eloise

I made a post once wondering why people were mad about Eloise being jealous. Because let’s face it: jealousy exists. I can tell you a story of a coworker of mine whose ex-girlfriend would consistently harangue him about our other coworker simply because she existed in the same room as him. Jealousy is some powerful shit.

Fans of otome games may not like it or want to deal with the past lovers/jealousy trope, but honestly it’s necessary. Romance ain’t a perfect science, and the more obstacles you have to go through to be with the one you love, the better it’ll be. But this post isn’t about that.

I understand Eloise a lot here. She’s met this Constance, who meant the WORLD to Ivan, and she knows how (seemingly) perfect she is. HELL, I WOULD BE INSECURE TOO. Eloise is insecure; she wonders if perhaps she can ever measure up to this past lover that Ivan had. She’s starting to experience feelings she may not quite understand, and that’s perfectly okay.

However, she kinda went about it all wrong.

Okay, sure. If I heard about my crush going and seeing his past lover during the day (risking life and limb to do so), I’d be a little suspicious. Maybe the “stalker” or “obsessed” thought would cross my mind. BUT if I remembered that Ivan was clinging to humanity AND realized that letting someone go who means the world to you is incredibly difficult, I would probably be more rational than Eloise. Honestly, Ivan’s big mistake here is letting Eloise find out about this outings because they poisoned her mind a bit.

Now, she could have asked him, “Okay, but why follow her?” Because that would have made more sense than doing the exact thing she was (mentally) calling him out for. But no. She did the same thing. And she found she was unable to hate this woman who, now remarried, used to completely hold Ivan’s heart.

What really ticks me off is that she did this because she didn’t believe him when he said he doesn’t feel the same way about Constance as he used to. She didn’t trust him enough to take him at his word. I mean, he’s a vampire, so I guess fully trusting him is off the table, even though she was fully admiring his shirtless form like 6 seconds ago (I mean, so was I), but anyway.

In the end, Ivan gets mad (UNDERSTANDABLY), and they argue because Eloise has somehow become a little obsessed with this Constance idea. Do you remember what I said about my coworker? His ex was ALSO obsessed with the idea of someone else in his life. It’s a pretty valid concern, and honestly, considering the way I argue with people, I don’t think Eloise’s freak out during the argument is completely unjustified. When you’re insecure, you are trying your DAMNEDEST to prove that there is merit to your worries.

I really sympathized with Eloise at the end of the chapter. She was convinced she’d ruined whatever it is she has with Ivan and that she should’ve kept her big mouth shut. This is exactly how I feel at the end of really bad arguments.

Poor Eloise. She’s never been in a relationship, right? So of course things would go wrong in the first one. But that doesn’t mean she needs to lose hope!

Ivan

I might get rant-y here. Only because some things people have said have PISSED. ME. OFF. Especially in relation to what I now know. (I’m not about to address the claim that Ivan needs a straitjacket now, but it might come in the future, if my newly-acquired knowledge of the definition of psychopathy has anything to say about it.)

Okay, so. Ivan definitely could have been a little clearer when he explained his relationship with Constance. He certainly could have clarified his exact reasons for going to the Village during the day. But with the bits and pieces I gathered, it was... I don’t know, obvious? When you care for someone as much as Ivan cared for Constance, you’re going to wonder how they’re faring after your sudden disappearance. It’s a thing in fiction where if X Character disappears, they wonder how life back home is going.

That might just be me over analyzing character motivations again. Sorry. (It’s an English/Creative Writing major thing.)

Still, this boy trusted that Eloise would give him space after he dug into this painful wound of his. He trusted that she wouldn’t ask anymore until he was ready to go back to poking it. But instead, she went and investigated on her own. Not only does that speak of her not trusting him, but now, how can he trust her when she did this?

I wanna note that before shit hit the fan (i.e. the argument), Ivan was perfectly content with Eloise visiting him. He was ecstatic that she would come to him so early in the night. When she gave him the plant, he BEAMED! He told her that he didn’t think he deserved to care for something like a plant! HE TOLD HER THAT THE FACT THAT SHE GAVE IT TO HIM MADE IT MORE BEAUTIFUL!

Have I mentioned I was sobbing at this part?

I’m not about to go into the nuances of the Chalice-vampire bond, because not much has been explained about it. However, Eloise did, in fact, say something that was very like Constance (all flower-knowledgeable and such), and the fact that that BRIEF tidbit clued her in to Eloise’s actions is interesting. So, yeah. He gets mad that Eloise went to see Constance in person, because that is, in fact, an invasion of his privacy in many ways. It’s like if I went to see my boyfriend’s ex in person just because he gave me a name. (I don’t have a boyfriend, and I wouldn’t do that. Just by the way.) But before that...

You know what I didn’t see in people’s reactions to Chapter 5? How worried Ivan was about us. He saw that Eloise wasn’t acting like herself. And he asked THREE TIMES (count ‘em in my reactions above, he asked THREE TIMES) if she was okay. The THIRD time, he said, “Did I do something wrong?”

I want someone to explain to me how in the fucking world this clues us in to him not caring about us. But anyway.

This concern, in fact, comes up when Ivan starts yelling at Eloise about being reckless. Because she was. Going too far from Ivan fucks with the Chalice bond, AND she did it during the day (and nearly got burnt real bad), AND there’s a murderer on the loose, AND Vlad could’ve found out. What I think a lot of people looked past was that there was concern behind Ivan’s anger. Anger based on concern is a helluva drug, and Ivan was high on that.

So, Eloise broke Ivan’s trust and endangered herself while doing it. And people are mad at Ivan? Okay. Cool. Good to know.

You know what was really crazy about all of this? A lot of the things Ivan said in this chapter really resonated with the post I linked above. I didn’t actually know Ivan didn’t take change (which had fucked him over in the past) well, but he directly said so. I didn’t actually know for sure that Ivan saw Constance as the embodiment of what he’d lost when he turned vamp, BUT HE ACTUALLY SAID IT (the part labeled, “OH MY GOD. OH. MY. GOD.”). I only vaguely understood that Ivan had a hard time coping with his transformation and feared that he was gonna ruin his relationship with Eloise. And yet! I ended up hitting the nail right on the head! I can’t tell if this means I’m magical or that I’m too good at diving into character’s heads.

The best part is that Ivan is the one to call an end to the shouting match. I’m kinda glad he kissed her, first of all, because there were some logical fallacies and circular arguing going on PLUS all of the emotions both were feeling PLUS the Chalice bond fucking them up a bit, SO it kinda served to tell him, “We gotta stop.” He basically says (and this is a paraphrase), “Okay, you go chill, and I’ll stay here and chill, because we’re both very angry and should probably calm down.” RATIONAL IVAN.

I’m really, REALLY confused why people are bashing him left and right (and I WOULD bring up the straitjacket thing again BUT).

[Side Note: I think at the beginning of Chapter 6, he ended up going out anyway because after an argument like THAT, how do you NOT get stuck in your own head and need to leave?]

Final Thoughts

This could all be bullshit. Even the parts where I directly quote what the English version of this chapter gave me. I could be going in too deep for the sake of defending Ivan. But what the Moonlight Lovers fandom needs to remember is that nobody ever said Ivan’s route was going to be easy. I got my fluff. I got some damn good fluff in this chapter, too. I NEVER expected things to NOT go to shit for the sake of the overarching plot. I expected it. That’s the point of this game, for God’s sake: things go to shit because of [PLOT].

There are two main things I think some people may have forgotten.

1. Eloise is allowed to be jealous. I’m sorry the past-lover-jealousy trope isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, but I, personally, find it realistic. Maybe she went about it in the wrong way (although we got some hefty dramarama), but I empathize. I’m hecka insecure; I would be acting very similarly to her.

2. Ivan does, in fact, have a point. He has multiple, actually. I don’t blame him for going further into the “so I would go out to see her-” thing, because how does one properly explain something like that to someone who doesn’t know them that well?!?! Plus, his concern is very clear throughout this chapter, so treating him like he has no emotions/doesn’t give a damn about Eloise is pretty fucking stupid. Perhaps he’s acting rather selfishly most of the time, but do you think Vlad and Bel were entirely selfless 24/7? HELL, I’D BE SELFISH TOO. LOOK HOW FUCKED UP HIS LIFE HAS GOTTEN SINCE HE BECAME A VAMP.

I didn’t really ever plan on doing this post, not until I saw people giving Ivan a lot of shit. Frankly, I’m giving him some shit as well. Considering how close in age Eloise and Ivan are, I’m really not surprised shit hit the fan in this chapter, especially with the decisions both of them made.

But then, I still enjoyed it.

So, yeah. I actually enjoyed this chapter. I was tossed back and forth between empathizing with Eloise and Ivan so much that my conclusion - that both of them had a point and both of them had valid feelings and reactions - was not one I thought I’d make when I went in.

And if anybody else actually happened to find merit in this chapter, don’t be afraid to say so. Hell, you can DM me and tell me EXACTLY why you found merit with it. I don’t mind.

Final Final Thoughts

This is a stupid random thought, but. When did Eloise and Ivan become parts of my psyche incarnate??? Like I empathized with them WAYYYYYY too much. Was this chapter written specifically for me? For a real person who’s felt many of these things before?

Beemoov, did you specifically write Ivan’s route for me? As flattered as I am, this is kinda weird. I didn’t expect to see myself so much in the MC of this game, but here we are.

I’m just bullshitting please no one roast me for having a huge ego it’s just that the coincidence was too uncanny