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starmocha · 15 days

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I For You Zayne/Reader | 3372 words | Masterlist | AO3 Lazy morning with Zayne. A/N: I love my sweetie darling honey baby snookums-pookie Zayne so much. Happy birthday to our precious doctor who deserves the whole universe and more. 🥹❤️ MDNI.

You awoke from your deep sleep, feeling the bed shifting with the sudden added weight. You looked up groggily, bleary eyes attempting to adjust to the dark bedroom.

“Go back to sleep,” you heard Zayne’s soft voice murmuring, the familiar and comforting crisp scents of his shampoo and body wash wafted in the air. It smelled like mint. Your sleep-addled brain started connecting the dots, realizing Zayne must have just gotten home from the hospital not too long ago. You started to wake up more fully once it finally clicked in your head that Zayne was finally home after finishing the recent grueling schedule for the week.

“You’re home,” you said, getting up and kneeling on the bed as you watched him settled in next to you. Your heart skipped a beat when he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, apologizing quietly for disturbing your sleep. You shook your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m glad you woke me up.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said again, chuckling softly as his own arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to lay next to him. He pressed his lips to your forehead. “It’s still dark out. Go back to sleep, darling.”

You peeked over at the clock on his nightstand and noticed it was almost six in the morning. “You sleep,” you told him, “I’ve rested enough. I can go do some chores while you sleep.”

As the last word left your mouth, Zayne tightened his hold around you, pulling you closer to his body to prevent you from leaving. You whined a little when his sudden action caused your slip dress to rise up above your thighs, but Zayne didn’t seem to care, his hold on you unyielding even as you attempted to fix your dress. He quieted you with a gentle kiss to your head. “It’s Sunday,” he said, “The chores can wait.”

Zayne yawned, his eyes looking heavier. He nuzzled his cheek against your hair. “Stay with me,” he murmured drowsily.

You gave in to Zayne’s insistence, staying until he fell asleep, which didn’t actually take long. He had pushed his body to the extreme, prioritizing others over himself without a thought or any hesitation. Now that he finally had a quiet moment to himself, to finally lay down to rest, his body gave in helplessly to the exhaustion from a week of overwork. On top of that, with your soft body and comforting warmth next to him, Zayne had drifted off to a deep sleep sooner than expected.

You peered up curiously, examining his sleeping face. This was your chance.

When you tried to leave, however, Zayne unconsciously tightened his hold, keeping your body pressed firmly against his. You sighed with a smile. You nuzzled your cheek against his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his sleepshirt and his warm embrace comforting you as well.

You listened to his soft breathing as he slept, but you yourself was now more awake and alert than before. Sleep was not coming back to claim you, but you were fine with that. You had already planned beforehand that today you would spend the morning tidying the house and doing some chores while Zayne rested. You had even planned out all the meals you would prepare for him on his rare day off.

You cracked a smile, already giddy over what you had planned for breakfast. Before you could enact your plan, though, you needed to find a way to leave Zayne’s iron embrace, which in all honesty, was not the worst problem to have crossed your path. Any other day, you would have welcomed this situation, but today you were set on your plan to pamper and spoil Zayne. You stayed with him an extra fifteen minutes, feeling his hold on you loosening as he fell into a deeper slumber.

You could hear Zayne softly snoring. You lightly poked his cheek. He remained asleep. You smiled.

Taking this chance, you carefully pried yourself from his embrace and stealthily rolled out of bed. You landed on your feet lightly, but you still froze in place, keeping your eyes glued on him to make sure he was still asleep. Zayne answered you with his light snores and you breathed out in relief. You snuck out of the room and freshened up in the guest bathroom before you began tackling your self-imposed list of chores.

For the next two hours, you had straightened out the living room, tidied Zayne’s work desk, and started on a load of neglected laundry. By eight, the sun had already risen and you opened the living room curtain to let the warm sunshine into Zayne’s monochromatic home.

You smiled. Now onto your favorite part of the to-do list: making breakfast.

You hummed happily to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen and gathered all of the necessary ingredients to make French toasts. A sweet breakfast for the sweetest man in your life.

You beaten a couple of eggs with milk, adding a generous helping of sugar, a pinch of salt, a drizzle of vanilla, and a touch of cinnamon and nutmeg. The warm scent of the spices already found their way to your nose, filling you with joy as you placed some thick-cut day-old brioche bread into the egg custard. You made sure the bread soaked up as much of the custard as possible before transferring it to a hot pan with melted butter. The light sizzles filled the air with the rich buttery scent, making your stomach rumbled in anticipation. You vaguely wondered if Zayne could smell the food you were making for him.

Once fully browned on both sides, you transferred two toasts over to a plate, placing one flat while the second leaned on the bottom toast at an angle. Satisfied with the position, you continued your plating, adding a pat of cold butter on the warm toast. You scattered an assortment of different brightly-colored berries all over the plate and finished with a generous dusting of powdered sugar.

You brought the finished plate over to a bamboo tray, adding alongside it a mug of freshly-brewed coffee and a glass of orange juice. You also placed a bottle of maple syrup on the tray, well certain that your sweet-toothed boyfriend would enjoy adding more sweetness to his liking.

You practically skipped to Zayne’s bedroom with the tray of food, excited to see his reaction. As you nudged the semi-closed bedroom door open with your hip, you could see Zayne was starting to stir.

Zayne’s arm reached over to your side of the bed, feeling only the empty space. His eyes were still closed, but you could see the frustrated creases on his face. He started to wake up, opening his eyes slowly. He frowned when his eyes registered the empty space next to him.

“Good morning,” you greeted him, placing the tray on the nightstand. Zayne turned over to look at you and the food in surprise.

“You did this?”

You sat down on the edge of the bed as Zayne sat up, leaning back against the headboard. You reached up and touched his cheek. “Today I am spoiling you,” you told him, smiling as his eyes seemed to widen even further in surprise.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he told you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You noticed his eyes reflected differently from what he had said. You could see the depths of gratitude and adoration in his gorgeous green eyes and it made you feel tickled pink, pleased that you could bring him this small amount of joy.

“I know,” you answered, “But I wanted to. You deserve to be pampered.”

You almost giggled when you noticed the faintest red on his ears.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, leaning down and capturing your lips, surprising you momentarily before you responded, deepening the kiss further. You gasped in surprise when he pulled you back into bed, keeping you close to his body. You looked up curiously, meeting his cool, calm gaze.

“Zayne—y-your breakfast…” your brain was malfunctioning as you locked eyes with him, feeling his right hand skimming down your body.

He wore the faintest smirk on his face as he pulled you to him with your back pressed to his chest. You gasped again as his hand reached down under your nightgown, searching for your intimate area. You covered your mouth to suppress a cry when he slipped his hand into your panties, fingers already feeling you.

“I’ll enjoy breakfast later,” he promised, kissing your cheek, “Right now…I just want to enjoy you, darling.”

With his other free hand, he pried your hand away from your mouth, chiding you gently, “I want to listen to your pretty voice.” Before you could even voice your protest, Zayne was already tugging your panties down. He slipped his fingers in pass your lips, smiling when you immediately bucked against his hand with a startled moan. “Want to hear you make these sweet sounds for me—because of me…”

You clenched around his fingers with a moan, your face pressed into the pillow. “Oh, Zayne…”

“Yes, darling?”

You gripped the pillow helplessly, needing something to hold onto as Zayne pulled you firmly to him. Your cheeks rosy, expression becoming more and more aroused as you could feel his cock hardening against your ass while he worked his fingers in and out of you, his thumb finding your clit to circle and tease, drawing out more of the sweet noises he desired from you.

“Zayne—your fingers!” You unconsciously thrusted into his hand, needing more of him, more of this sweet pleasure he was giving you.

“Hmm?” Zayne looked down at you with a smirk, enjoying the sight of his beloved coming undone by him. His face leaned closer to your ear, his husky whisper made you trembled, made you feel an ache in the pit of your belly. “Do you feel good, darling?”

“Y—yes!”

“Good,” he murmured, “I want you to feel good.”

He kissed your neck deeply, his lips lingering, the warmth of his breath and the words he spoke making you shivered with desire. “You’re always so good to me, so I want you to feel the same.”

His pacing increased, expert fingers already knowing where you’re most sensitive, where just the slightest touch could have you arching up, shamelessly thrusting into his hand for your release.

“Ah, Zayne, don’t—I’m going to cum!” You held onto the pillow tighter, nails already snagging along the fabric of the pillowcase. You buried your face into the pillow, gasping and whimpering, voice growing a pitch higher as you felt that oncoming tightening in your core.

“Go ahead,” he whispered, his voice still soft and gentle while yours was frantic and pleading. “I want you to cum, want you to cum all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”

“Ohh…Zayne…” You writhed against him, desperate to hear more of him—feel more of him.

“You are a good girl, aren’t you, darling?”

“Ye—yes!”

“My good girl?”

“Yes, yes, Zayne! Yours! Always yours! Ahh—” You cried and sobbed into the pillow, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your only thought was the feeling of your climax, the feeling of Zayne’s fingers still inside you, still easing you back down from your high. You could hear Zayne hissed quietly as you clenched tightly around his fingers, coating them with your release. When he had finally withdrew his fingers, you barely registered it, barely registered that he had also turned you so could lay on your back. Seconds passed before you finally opened your eyes again. Immediately, you felt a tight coil in your belly, your cheeks burning hot as you watched him licked and sucked his fingers clean of you.

He smiled.

“Z-Zayne…” your voice was feeble—whether it was weakened from your pleasurable cries just moments ago, from watching him sucked your juice off his fingers so deliciously, or just the way he smiled at you with so much affections, you weren’t sure anymore.

You sighed happily when his hand caressed your cheek, his face leaning in close. His breath was so warm against your lips as he spoke softly, “Are you still going to spoil me today?”

You nodded immediately despite not knowing his intentions with his question. When you realized what he had meant, your eyes widened in shock as he immediately had you spread out in front of him, his hardened cock already free from its confine and resting heavily in his hand as he leisurely stroked himself.

“N-no, Zayne! I’m not ready!”

“You’re still so wet,” he murmured, guiding himself to your entrance, pleased when you let out a whimper at feeling just the tip pressing into you. He husked lowly, “I think you’re plenty ready for me, darling.”

You leaned back, fingers already digging into the bedsheets as more and more of him entered. You whined softly and pleaded with him.

“Shh, I’ll be gentle, let you get used to me…”

Your hips bucked against him, your body still overly sensitive from your recent climax just mere moments ago. You let out a shaky gasp as you took him in, feeling every glorious inch of him stretching and filling your sensitive pussy. You panted, moaning weakly, “Ohhh, Zayne, it’s too much…Ah-ahh…!”

He kissed your forehead, reassuring you gently, “You can take me, you always do.” His soft voice wrapped around you, filling you with warmth and comfort. He smiled as he could feel you relaxing as he fully penetrated you, bottoming out with a low moan. He claimed your lips, greedily and shamelessly stealing several kisses from you. “You’re so good to me, aren’t you, darling?”

You nodded instinctively, your lust-hazed mind unable to fully think of anything other than Zayne and the feel of him buried so deep inside you. You moaned as he pulled out and then thrusted back in, his rhythm was slow, deliberate, his intent was to have you savor the feel of him, to draw out your time together.

The way you kept saying his name, kept pleading and moaning for him—because of him—made his chest tightened. In this whole wide world, in this lifetime and the next, he wanted no one else but you, and to be wanted in the same way by you, he knew he was blessed to have this love all to himself.

“Let’s take our time, darling,” he murmured, his large hand finding yours, fingers intertwining as he pressed both your hands deeper into the mattress. His forehead rested against yours, his heavy body close to yours—everything of his, yours. When he spoke, you could feel his warm breath caressing your lips again, “I just want to be with you…feel you like this…”

“Mmmm…Zayne…”

His lips seized yours, swallowing all of your words and sounds for himself. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly when your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him in deeper. Zayne was willing to be selfless in all other aspects of his life, but when it came to you, he wanted everything of yours to be his and his alone. It seemed only you could make him behave so selfishly, to rebel so willingly, to fall so helplessly—only you. For you.

“Darling…”

You welcomed the long, slow kisses, his languid, fluid movements, the feel of his body covering yours, taking you for himself as if you were the most prized treasure in the world. His soft murmurs of love and praises were so intoxicating, almost hypnotizing, even, like you were falling under his spell. It was almost like he wanted to make you forget all others, forget the world outside this room, and let your thoughts be consumed with only him.

“Feels so good…so good to me…” his lazy words tumbled freely out of his mouth as he branded your neck and shoulder with his kisses. He had let go of your hand, bringing his to cup your face. He caressed your cheek gently, watching as you gazed up at him with rosy cheeks and mouth parting with soft pants and gasps as you took in his slow thrusts. You held your eyes with his, both reflecting different sentiments.

He smirked a little, seeing the conflict in your eyes from wanting to enjoy this slow tender moment a little longer to needing him to fuck you harder and make a mess of you. “You’re so pretty like this, darling,” he said, bringing his hands down to grip your hips. His calloused hands held you firmly while he pulled out and then slammed back into you harder than before, surprising you into crying out his name.

Zayne’s heavy panting rang in your ears, mixing with your own needy moans as you felt his movements becoming faster, rougher. You met his thrusts, the sudden shift in pacing broke the restraints you both held earlier. When he leaned down closer, your arms encircled around his neck, gasping as he lifted you higher off the bed, your legs locked tightly around his waist. You cried into the crook of his neck, feeling all of him penetrating you so deeply over and over and over again.

“Yes…yes…yes…oh, god, Zayne…!”

“Getting so tight,” he grunted, holding you closer to him, pounding into you quicker, his own release was also near. Your nails scraped along his back, urging him more and more. His soft curses got lost amidst your pleading cries.

“Please…I’m gonna…ahh…I’m gonna cum again…Za—”

You cried into his shoulder, nails digging into his back, scratching and clawing as you held on helplessly while he continued to plumbed into you, taking you past the point of no return as he was desperate for his own approaching release.

Your back hit the soft mattress, his body heavy on yours, lips and tongue and teeth marking you up, hands fumbling along your body, feeling all that was his as he rocked into you, rammed into you, chasing after his release. You moaned when he pushed your nightgown up above your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, groaning deeply when your fingers tangled into his soft hair, tugging at him, too overwhelmed and stimulated to even register your own actions.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more of his sudden aggressive treatment, he stilled and emptied into you hot and fast. Your eyes closed, lost in the feeling of him filling you so wonderfully, his seed spilling out of you, dripping down your thighs.

Your head felt clouded, lost amidst the residual lust-filled haze. You could still hear Zayne’s soft panting, feel him softening inside you, feel the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm. You whimpered when you felt him pulling out, felt him laying down heavy next to you, dragging you back into his arms.

The warm sunlight filtered in through a crack in the curtain. Distantly, you heard birds chirping, a passing car, idle chatters of walkers and dogs barking. Zayne’s gentle voice instantly cut through, drowning out the other noises as he brought your attention back to the present—back to him.

You opened your eyes, seeing the beautiful green and yellow in his eyes gazing back at you so sweetly, so lovely. “Thank you,” Zayne said, soft, gentle lips brushed against yours, “Thank you…for loving me.”

Your heart skipped several beats. You wanted to echo the same words back to him, wanted him to know your feelings mirrored his, but a strong wave of exhaustion hit you suddenly, your body completely drained of energy to fight back. You could feel sleep was coming back to claim you soon. You could barely keep your heavy eyes open.

Wrapped in his arms, secured in his warmth, you mumbled sleepily against his chest, “Your breakfast is cold…”

He chuckled, amused by your silly innocuous thought. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, his arms holding you firmly to him, his hand rubbing soothing circles along your back to lull you to sleep faster. “Trust me, darling, my appetite has been satisfied…”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds fanfics #lnds smut #zayne smut #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #x — fanfics #never mind the fact that he has to share his birthday with my parents’ wedding anniversary #so I get to feel extra uncomfortable posting this today #😀👍

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egg-but-with-style · 2 months

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GETTING CHASED IN THE WOODS!!!!!!!!!!

Smut under the cut, of course..hehehehe

It was dark, and quiet, the stars and moon peaking out behind the clouds that were barely visible in the dark night sky. The trees not letting much light through anyway.

You were standing there, hiding behind an old oak in nothing but your tank top and shorts, thankfully you had the foresight to wear atleast a sports bra, otherwise your tits would've been hurting as much as your lungs were.

You'd been running for who knows how long, away from him.

You think you lost him, you're pretty sure you lost him. But something about how silent it is nags in your mind. It's too serene..too nice. You feel like you're being watched and then..snap.

A tree branch right behind you and you bolt.

You weren't sure if it was him, maybe it wasn't, maybe it just fell, but you couldn't take any chances, your legs and ass were still sore from last time.

But you were still so exhausted.

Your lungs ached, your calves burned, your heart was beating so fast it might as well explode. Then you fall.

It's all too much, and you're so so tired.

So when his silhouette stands over your burnt out form, you stop caring as much.

Simon, he's never looked better in moonlight.

He thought you looked just as beautiful. Dirt might've been caking your bare feet, and your thighs might've been rubbed raw from running, but he didn't care. All he saw was the woman he was about to fuck the shit out of.

And you in all your innocent hope, blurted out a couple quiet words between pants "please.. don't be so rough this time..?" And all he could do was laugh because the second he ripped off your shorts, the sound of fabric ringing through the quiet night, you were wet.

Sticky was honestly the best way to describe it. It had attached to your fat pussy lips, making it glisten in an almost unholy way. He was running his mouth already.

"Sorry luv, I got you fair and square. I caught my little rabbit, I get to ruin it as much as I want.."

Then he was diving into your cunt. His tongue lapping around your clit, but never quite on it. Teasing. As if he wasn't as desperate as you were.

You were out of breath, and your whole body ached, you could barely see him over your stomach, but you reached a hand to his head anyway, trying to get any pressure on your clit, anything.

He quickly pried your hand off through, holding it down with ease, and lifting his head up to look at you, his chin slightly sticky already.

"Does a sheep give directions to a wolf about how to eat it better? No. It doesn't."

He growled out, seemingly genuinely just a tad bit angry. His patience was running thin too. The way your clit twitched after he said it finally made his resolve break, all ideas of prolonging this out the window.

That was something that was instantly clear when you met Simon. He was the best damn munch there ever was. He kept flicking your clit in just the right way with his tongue, never too hard or too soft, always making little jolts of pleasure spread up your spine and into your mushy brain.

And god..when he added his two fingers, your naughty hand now forgotten, it felt like heaven. You clenched around his pointer and middle and it made his cock start dripping precum, it staining his jeans that were already strained from his painfully hard dick.

He thrusted his fingers in and out, slow at first, in pace with his tongue, but then you started moaning louder, and, unsuccessfully, tried to buck your hips, which didn't go well with how your lungs burned at even the slight in take of air.

It started building up in your clit and g spot, the beginning of an orgasm, that's when he sped up, wanting to taste you on his tongue. It being far tastier when you've just came.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck FUCK YES SIMON!!"

You came loudly, your body convulsing around his fingers, your clit twitching in his mouth. He didn't stop though, as soon as he knew you came, he started to lick your hole. Trying to tongue out any remnants of your orgasm.

You mumbled, your voice and body weak "Mm Simon..don't..too..too sensitive.."

He reached up and put a hand over your mouth, not even bothering to come up for air to acknowledge your words. Just wanting to be lost in your pussy and it's delicious post orgasm glaze.

Eventually he came up, leaving you sensitive and twitching. He crawled over to your ear, looking you in the eye, and whispered.

"How you feeling, luv?" You finally made eye contact with him. His eyes were wide, and his chin glistened in the moonlight from your wetness. "'M great.." you managed to warble out. Your legs still shaking.

He just nodded in response, then he stood up. You thought for a minute it was over, that he actually took your pleads of being gentle seriously. Thankfully he didn't. He hoisted you up like you were nothing. Making you remember hearing him talk about his PR for lifting was 450. It only made your cunt clench.

Despite that you let out a very unhappy groan, not liking to be moved after you orgasm. He just cooed "Don't worry, I'll fuck you into a better mood.."

Eventually he had you positioned between him and a tree, the bark pushing a little uncomfortably into your skin.

He thankfully decided to put his coat on you to protect from the tree bark, sliding onto you. Making you feel warmer, and even more loved

"Cant have you being scratched up by some tree...that's my job." You knew he meant it too. Your back showed it.

You were beginning to get a little impatient, wanting so bad to have his cock bullied into you. Your oversensitivity finally having worn off, now replaced with dire need. He thankfully started pulling down his pants. Even if it was a bit hard to do when holding you up against the tree at the same time.

But finally, finally, he pushed the tip of his head into your entrance, and once he was sure it was lined up, he looked you in the eye, put your legs around his waist, and then put his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. Then impaled you on his cock with one massive thrust, all while keeping eye contact.

You immediately let out a moan and he drank it up. Hearing your sweet sounds and grabbing your soft, warm flesh made the rest of the world melt away.

He didn't care if a deer, a hunter, or god himself saw you, or heard you two, he just wanted to fuck you until you were both brain dead, and he was gonna do just that.

No matter how many times you had sex with this man, his dick always stretched you out, leaving you feeling full. Once he was sure you were settled, he started thrusting. Angling himself towards your g spot, making you moan.

"Mhmm, my little rabbit likes that, hm? It was so cute see you, fuck- run, or atleast try too. You looked so scared..made me hard..."

He was smirking, or atleast he was when his eyes weren't rolling back from the pleasure your soft fleshy fat cunt provided.

He started speeding up, feeling you start to tighten just a little. He then took his hand off your throat, much to your dismay, but just before you were going to let out a sound of displeasure, he started rubbing your clit, making your brain short circuit, and your mouth start producing the sluttiest noises these woods would ever hear.

It felt so good, his hand on your clit, his dick in your cunt. You don't even remember why you ran away in the first place, this felt so good, why did you deprive yourself of this pleasure?

You think he was thinking the same thing too, based off his face, not that either of you could think all that much at the moment.

You could feel his dick start to throb, and his moans turn into slight grunts. You knew when he was about to cum better then himself. Then he started mouthing off. "Everything in this fucking forest is gonna know you're mine! Gonna fucking fill you up, make sure you can't walk straight, you'd like that? Huh?"

Then his eyes rolled back into his head, and he gritted his teeth. You felt your orgasm coming on too, starting to clench on his dick. Which set him off

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum..Cum with me baby! Fucking cum with me!" He started to rub your clit even faster, his cock thrusting into you like his back definitely wasn't gonna hurt in the morning after this.

"I will! I promise- Oh fuck Si-" You got cut off by your own moans as your cunt started to convulse and tighten around him. Making him paint your walls white.

His hot warm cum starting to flood your poor abused pussy. He laid his head down on your shoulder as he unloaded himself into you, breathing hard. His teeth biting down on your shoulder.

Carefully, slowly, he pulled out. Setting both of you on the ground, up against the tree. His dick still out, and your pussy out in the open air. You'd be lying if you said you couldn't feel the air tickling your clit.

You suddenly remember why you were running in the first place. Your entire lower half was shaking and sore.

"we're gonna be so sore in the morning.." Simon groaned in agreement. "Worth it...that was fucking amazing luv. Worth all the back pain in the world" You just giggled. Filled with cum, warm, happy, all was right in the world.

#chubby reader #plus size reader #tall reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #ghost x reader #hiii!! im back probably only gonna put out a random fic like once a week #I'm starting beauty school soon so ill be really busy #cod smut #smut #the whores are gonna love this

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alpaca-clouds · 1 year

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The Punk-Factor of Punkpunk Genre

So, when I posted my history of Solarpunk, someone (probably not in good faith) asked: “So, what about the punk in all the other punk genres?!” towards my request to put the punk back into Solarpunk. And given that my autistic brain obviously cannot just let that stand… You know what? Let me talk about the other punk genre and in how far they are “punk”. I tried to be as exhaustive as possible, though there is a good chance, that I might have missed some of the punkpunk genre. So feel free to add.

Trying to judge the punkiness I do not assume punk as simple counter culture, but a specific ideology. Quote from Wikipedia:

[Punk ideology] is primarily concerned with concepts such as mutual aid, against selling out, hierarchy, white supremacy, authoritarianism, anti-consumerism, anti-corporatism, anti-war, imperialism, conservatism, anti-globalization, gentrification, anti-racism, anti-sexism, class and classism, gender equality, racial equality, eugenics, animal rights, free-thought and non-conformity

Most of the artwork here has been taken from concept art of either of the examples listed.

Sorted from most futuristic to pre(historic). Yes, the list is long.

Cyberpunk

We start with the OG punk genre, the one after which all other punk genre were named. Yes, you could argue that in fact the two genre following are more futuristic – but Cyberpunk kinda just had to start the list.

As a genre: Given that Cyberpunk had its start completely in literature it is the best defined in this regard. Taking place in a late stage capitalist dystopian world in which most is owned by megacorps who don’t follow anyone’s laws but their own, the protagonists usually are social outcasts fighting against their own oppression, trying to keep themselves alive in a world hostile to them. With cybernetics always being a core of the genre, it also tends to deal with the question of humanity in a “ship of Theseus” sort of way. How much can the human body be altered, before the human vanishes?

As an aesthetic: Cyberpunk is the most punk in terms of aesthetics, really. There is a lot of punk and grunge going on in terms of character design. Neon hair colors, fishnets and thorn up jeans jackets can be found here. As well as of course cybernetics on the characters. The world usually is a megacity with a stark divide between rich and poor, tons of neon signs, a slight Japanese influence, flying cars and somehow a constant downpour of rain.

Punk-Factor: Cyberpunk is the one punk genre, where the “punk” was chosen very knowingly as a name. Usually the protagonists are “punks” fighting for their place in the world against a suppressive capitalist system. (Also, they usually fit the punk aesthetic, if they don’t wear leather dusters.) It should be noted however, that especially in newer western Cyberpunk often the punkiness vanishes more and more – for the same reason we have so little Solarpunk: media that outright confronts the problems of capitalism is just less supported.

Examples: Neuromancer (1984), Mirrorshades: The Cyberpunk Anthology (1986), Snow Crash (1992), The Matrix (1999), Dredd (2012)

Biopunk

As a genre: As a genre biopunk is still fairly ill defined, as it mostly shows up as a subsection of Cyberpunk. Rather than the characters having cybernetic implants (or additionally to it) they are augmented on a genetic level. This can be all sorts of augmentations, changing anything from appearance to giving characters higher strength and agility, giving them claws or night vision, or in some cases even “magic” powers. Usually the genre tends to be set in worlds similar to Cyberpunk. In fact it might well be set in a cyberpunk world, only that characters with bioaugmentations exist parallel to those with cybernetics. Additionally, though, there is a subsection of this genre, that concerns reproductive rights.

As an aesthetic: Ironically biopunk is even less defined as an aesthetic. There is not a lot of biopunk art out there and most that exists can go in different directions. As such it often mixes elements from other punk aesthetics – like Cyberpunk, Steampunk or Dieselpunk – with an assortment of bodyhorror elements.

Punk-Factor: It is hard to define the “punkiness” of a genre, that barely exists for the most part. Usually, when it is set against a Cyberpunk backdrop, it might be very punky, but in other settings those punk elements vanish.

Examples: Ribofunk (1995), Altered Carbon (2002), Bioshock (2007), The Windup Girl (2009)

Nanopunk

As a genre: Like Biopunk Nanopunk mostly exists as a subsubgenre to Cyberpunk, often being set in a mostly Cyberpunk world, only that instead of or additionally to Cybernetics, the technology used to alter the human body is nanites. These serve the same function as the genetic manipulation in Biopunk, giving the human in question more strength and agility and at times more or less magical abilities. There is one common plot that comes up again and again, with an AI or megacorp turning the nanites against the people they inhabit or trying to control them.

As an aesthetic: Aesthetically Nanopunk does not have much in terms of its own identity. Most artworks relating to Nanopunk feature a similar aesthetic to Cyberpunk, with megacities and lots of neon.

Punk-Factor: This genre is so small, that it is kinda hard to judge the exact punkiness.

Examples: The Diamond Age (1995), Prey (2002)

Solarpunk

As a genre: Being another genre, that started as such, Solarpunk is a bit better defined. Solarpunk usually takes place in a world post-strive. It is post-capitalist and decolonial in its settings, usually featuring a world that has either formed against the backdrop of preventing climate collapse or in the aftermath of it. A lot of it features people rebuilding – or alternatively building communities. It always features elements about living in harmony with nature or trying to do so. So far, the genre is mostly defined by short stories, partly because there is still disagreements within the movement, how far a conflict can be taken to still qualify as Solarpunk.

As an aesthetic: Solarpunk has a very strong aesthetic definition, mostly featuring all sorts of cities and urban areas, that incorporate natural elements into the urbanity, with greenery growing on roofs and concrete car-centric streets being replaced with more natural, walkable areas. The character design aesthetic is not quite as clearly defined, but usually features natural materials and patterns usually seen within indigenous art.

Punk-Factor: Contrary to what many say, Solarpunk is fairly punk, as it very much embraces the entire anti-hierarchical, anti-capitalist mentality. With the big difference, that the punk mentality is no longer counter culture, but the mainstream culture.

Examples: The Dispossessed (1974), Nausicaä (1984), Laputa – Castle in the Sky (1986), Princess Mononoke (1997), The Summer Prince (2013)

Lunarpunk

As a genre: Lunarpunk is pretty much a subsubgenre of Solarpunk, just as Nanopunk and Biopunk are sprung off from Cyberpunk. It is so far ill-defined as a genre, but the general consensus is, that it is set in solarpunk-esque worlds, but with a heavier focus on mysticism or spiritualism, at times outright including magic. It also tends to feature a lot darker places, being set in underwater or underground settings – or alternatively at night.

As an aesthetic: Lunarpunk is far more of an aesthetic than a genre so far. It features dark places, often with bioluminescent elements in it. Often featuring a mixture of black and dark blue with lighter blue, violet or light green elements shining in the middle of it. Mushrooms – especially glowing mushrooms – feature repeatedly in artwork.

Punk-Factor: Given that Lunarpunk is barely defined as a genre it is hard to estimate the punkiness in it. If it gets more stories, will those still feature the anti-capitalist and anti-hierarchical messaging we see in Solarpunk? This should be the defining factor. Some of the artworks use little aesthetics from the punk scene, but nothing much more.

Examples: Bioluminescent: A Lunarpunk Anthology (2023)

Hopepunk

Honestly, I had no idea where to put this one, given that it might technically be set at any time and place.

As a genre: Hopepunk is very much a genre, not an aesthetic. It has been defined as the opposite of grimdark by its “inventor/name-giver” Alexandra Rowland. The basic idea is to create fiction that instead of taking a dystopian, defeatist and violent approach, takes one defined by hope and to some degree pacifism. As such the genre can be set in any setting, real or fantastic. It mostly is defined by the protagonists taking opposition to cruelty and violence, fighting for a better world and, crucially, also partly archiving it. Other than in usual Cyberpunk, where the best possible ending, tends to be, that the protagonists get to live a somewhat better life themselves, Hopepunk aims to better the life at least for groups of people.

As an aesthetic: Being fully a genre, Hopepunk has no aesthetic associated with it.

Punk-Factor: Hopepunk is punk less in the sense of the protagonists or things happening within the story, which might or might not be punk, but was named such rather because it is considered counter cultural towards the gross of media at the moment, that often strives for a “realistic, gritty, grimdark” outlook on the world. Basically it is saying: “Hope is punk.” I will not make any judgement on whether or not this is true.

Examples: The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (2014), Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), The Good Place (2016)

Mythpunk

As a genre: Another one, that does not really fit into a temporal sorting system, because once again it can be set anywhere between the stone age and the far future. The basic idea is, that the story interweaves postmodern storytelling with elements from mythology or folklore. This can mean mythological, genre-traversing retellings, but it can also mean, that mythology seeps into any given story bit by bit. As such the genre with probably the most media in the subgenre is Urban Fantasy, which often borrows from mythology and incorporates these elements.

As an aesthetic: Mythpunk as an aesthetic is a bit strange. There is definitely a mythpunk aesthetic that exists, often mixing familiar elements with elements from mythology and folklore (at times also including quasi-folkloric works of literature, such as Alice in Wonderland and the Wizard of Oz). Often just a bit dark and twisted.

Punk-Factor: To be perfectly frank, for the most part, there is not a lot of punk to be found in this genre. While there have been definitely punky stories told within the genre, this is more a story decision than something inherent to the genre.

Examples: Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), Over the Garden Wall (2014), Inscryption (2016)

Dustpunk / Rustpunk / Desertpunk

As a genre: Kinda grouping those above all together, because people argue about what they might entail and in some interpretations they kinda are similar: Post-apocalyptic stories set in a world of sand and rust. Often featuring a loner character, having to go up against everyone to ensure his own survival – and at times being forced to learn, that the lonerness might not win him (and most often it is a him) anything.

As an aesthetic: Aesthetically this tends to be very much post-apocalyptic, maybe in some cases with some more classical punk elements added to characters and surroundings.

Punk-Factor: Given that there is neither a system to rage against – nor a new, less hierarchical system – usually there is not that much punk outside of some aesthetic choices. Neither tend those stories go into constructing worlds of mutual aid or working against oppression.

Examples: Anything Mad Max should count for this.

Atompunk

As a genre: Atompunk usually deals with themes connected to the cold war – in some cases directly, in some indirectly. Often it overplays the American ideals that were pushed for during the cold war era and portrays scenarios in which American Exceptionalism slowly reveals itself as the dystopia most punks already know it to be. Outside of this vague idea for the setting, the genre is less described, as there is less of a clear script an Atompunk story might follow. So, little description of who might be the protagonist and what their role is.

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Atompunk borrows heavily from the Raygun Gothic aesthetic. So, futurism, as it was imagined in the 1950s and 1960s, with heavy influences from late pulp age science fiction art.

Punk-Factor: The aesthetic in this is definitely not punk. The stories often have some vague punk ideas of recognizing how fucked up the world has become, but given the genre is fairly wide in terms of stories, it is hard to give a definite answer to how “punk” it is. One can definitely tell punk stories within this genre, though.

Examples: Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy (1978), Fallout (1997), Futurama (1999)

Dieselpunk

As a genre: Dieselpunk is once again an example of “strong aesthetic, but no clear genre identity”. Generally, Dieselpunk is concerned with the interwar period, but might cover either of the world wars. In some cases the genre features alternate timelines, in which one war happened and not the other, or in which another faction won, with the technological development being influenced by this as well. But as a genre it is not much defined. A lot of stories building on Lovecraft’s legacy feature Dieselpunk in some regards. And there is definitely a subsection of Dieselpunk stories centered around “what if Nazis won” or “what if Nazis somehow went underground and did their own technological development after the war”. Also, there are a lot of stories about pilots of war planes in this genre.

As an aesthetic: As an aesthetic Dieselpunk is more clearly defined. A lot of bare metal and the sorts of technology you would expect from this era, often with retro-futurist and art noveau elements in between. A lot of the fashion within the genre is defined by pilot and military clothing of the times, but at times also dipping into “roaring 20s” fashion styles.

Punk-Factor: In this genre I would generally say: “If the story involves punching Nazis, you might get a couple punk points – but otherwise this is not really punk.”

Examples: The Iron Dream (1972), Brazil (1985), Dark City (1998), Iron Sky (2012), Bitter Seeds (2010)

Teslapunk

As a genre: Yet another one of these, that exists mostly as a vague idea, with no clear definition. The basic idea is a world, that works on Tesla’s inventions. And as those of you, who watched Doctor Who, might know, Tesla sorta, kinda already invented the internet or had an idea of what it could be and how it could work. So a Teslapunk world is based in an alternate timeline, but might in fact go into light futurism. There is not much in this genre though with a unique thematic identity, as stories that use Teslapunk as a backdrop rarely have coherent themes.

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Teslapunk is basically “Steampunk, but with Tesla-coils and electricity”. Which is not a big surprise given that Tesla came from the same era that would also be the inspiration for Steampunk. So, we have a lot of Victorian fashion, maybe some light augmentation, airships, and – again – all the tesla coils you can muster.

Punk-Factor: As, again, I think punk is more about themes than aesthetic, this is once more not really possible to judge, because there do not seem coherent themes within the genre so far.

Examples: The Prestige (2006), Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011), Bioshock Infinite (2013)

Arcanepunk

Another one of those that do not neatly fit into the timeline…

As a genre: Arcanepunk takes place in a world, where both magic and technology have developed. In some cases both developed side by side, in others, we might have a technological world, that suddenly discovers magic by some happenstance. The fact is, though, that both exist parallel to each other or might at times be intertwined, with technology being powered by magic. This can exist at different technological stages, usually featuring settings inspired by the late 19th or early 20th century. But usually futuristic stuff that includes magic might be considered Arcanepunk, just as might stories that mix 18th century technology with magic. While also a vague genre, there is a repeating theme of magic being hoarded by those in powers and the poor and downtrodden finding ways to still use it in their own advantage.

As an aesthetic: Given that Arcanepunk’s setting is defined by the co-existence of magic and technology, rather than a specific technology, Arcanepunk has less of a defined aesthetic. Never the less, we have a part of punk aesthetics that often come up, as a surprising amount of Arcanepunk features characters with neon colored hair.

Punk-Factor: Another genre that is rather thin, yet, there is a surprising amount of stories featuring some punk ideas of fighting against an oppressive system and being counter culture to a main culture build around suppression.

Examples: Too Many Magicians (1966), Shadowrun (1989), Bartimaeus (2003), Arcane (2021) duh

Steampunk

Steampunk was the second genre to pick up the “punk” suffix and hence is as much responsible for the punk-punk as Cyberpunk as the originator.

As a genre: Being named as early as it has been, Steampunk kinda suffers the same issue as Cyberpunk itself. There is a lot of ideas there, but some are only vaguely defined. In general, though Steampunk always takes place in a world where the steam engine became the defining technology and was never replaced with the combustion engine. As such cultural aspects from the steam era, especially Victorian England and the Belle Epoche, still carry over for longer, than they did. So often we will see noble households based around similar values as the puritan Victorian English families, while the very poor are made to work in workhouses. At times we might also see themes of colonialism here. In some cases magic might exist in these worlds, as might electricity for some aspects. There is often a heavy inspiration from Jules Verne and H.G. Wells. Though it is still hard to define the “stereotypical steampunk story”, given that Steampunk offers a wide variety of stories, from adventure stories and romances, over to stories where people rise up against the Victorian-esque society.

As an aesthetic: Steampunk as an aesthetic is very much influenced by Victorian aesthetics and the time period of the late 19th century, mostly in the USA, Great Britain and France. But as all other punk genres it knows very well: “If it is worth doing, it is worth overdoing,” so steam-related elements are added to everything. Could

Punk-Factor: In the original idea for Steampunk was a lot of punk. “What if we took Cyberpunks ‘rage against the unjust system’ and made it 19th century” they asked. But given that the genre branched out so much, it is not necessarily there in all the stories. There is a ton of stories where people rage against that steam powered Victorian machine – but also a ton in which the Victorian world gets idealized and romanticized.

Examples: Thief (1998), The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (1999), Wild Wild West (1999), Clockwork Century (2008) – also half of all Sherlock Holmes adaption made after 2000 in any medium usually use Steampunk elements

Silkpunk

As a genre: Silkpunk is hard to define, despite there being a clear definition. The reason for this is, that the person who coined the term – Ken Liu – had a very specific idea in mind. He explains that the idea is of a world that has technology as language. In which form is as important as function, is made to speak a language all of its own. Inspired by ideas from W. Brian Arthur and Chinese philosophy. However, what the wider Science Fiction and Fantasy community made from it was “Steampunk but East Asian!” But given he coined the term (and also the alternative feels vaguely racist) I am going to go with Ken Liu for this. While Silkpunk will usually be set in an East Asian inspired world, the central idea is about the duality of technology, which will also be addressed within the stories.

As an aesthetic: As said above, the idea Liu had for it was a world that features some technology, but technology that is as much about form and communication through it, as it is about function. So the technology here has strong visual ideas. At least that was, how Liu intended it. Once again, the wider community made “Steampunk, but East Asian” out of it.

Punk-Factor: There is not a lot of stuff in this genre for now – however so far I do not manage to see a lot of punk ideas in it, even though some of Liu’s stories definitely feature the concept of challenging a higher power.

Examples: Dandelion Dynasty (2015), The Black Tides of Heaven (2018), The Tea Master and the Detective (2019)

Clockpunk

As a genre: Once again storytelling in this genre is not really defined, but the worlds diverge a bit before the wide adaption of steam, instead featuring mechanical devices powered by coils and springs and somehow kept alive, often at least implied through some form of arcane magic that gives “live” to these mechanical inventions. Most examples of Clockpunk, however, tend to show up as settings for parts of fantasy stories. Any fantasy world might have this “Clockpunk” area, where protagonists might travel. Especially games tend to feature this. While there is definitely a trope of the “mad inventor” often going along with this, few other tropes stand out.

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Clockpunk tends to take some inspiration from the early 19th century, but tends to add a lot of gears to everything, with even city wide gear constructions keeping things working. We often will find mechatronic characters, such as wind up soldiers or wind up dancers.

Punk-Factor: Once more, there are so few stories told, that it is kinda hard to speak about how punk this is. Most stories told so far, however, do not feature punk elements.

Examples: The Great Mouse Detective (1986), Hugo (2011), Clockwork Planet (2017)

Whalepunk

Please note: This is one of those genre, I would love to see more in, though so far it is barely explored.

As a genre: And you might ask: “Why do you even name those genre, that exist mostly in theory?”, to which I might answer: “Because I am a nerd.” As all these retrofuturists genre, Whalepunk imagines mostly an alternate historical timeline, where the technology that became defining was based around whale oil. This means that in Whalepunk often whalers or harbors play a big role, though as the genre is again very thinly spread, it is hard to say what “THE whalepunk” formular is. It seems there is a tendency, to mix some mysticism or magic into the genre, though, as the idea of hunting sea monsters often plays into it as well. Good chance that it could at some point merge with Cthulupunk (which I did not name separately, because most of it is either covered in Whalepunk or Dieselpunk).

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Whalepunk is basically “Steampunk, but with more sailors, ships and sea monsters”. There is definitely a bit of Oceanpunk mixed into it as well, with some aesthetics being somewhere between Steampunk and Dieselpunk. (Which is kinda ironic, because whale oil was mostly used in the early 19th century.)

Punk-Factor: And again. There so far is not a lot of connective thematic tissue within that genre, so exploring themes is kinda hard.

Examples: Dishonored (2012), Dredge (2023)

Oceanpunk / Piratepunk

As a genre: It really is hard to divide the Piratepunk out of the Oceanpunk, though some might call it different. The idea here is that this genre features stories mostly set on the ocean and often more heavily leaning into fantasy, than science fiction. While the worlds might feature technological elements, they will almost certainly feature magical elements of some sort. The characters will usually be seafaring one way or another and stories might involve any sort of adventure. There might be a storyline, though, about one company or nation trying to control the seas – often times through magical means – with the characters often unwillingly being made to oppose them. This genre might also take place in a post-apocalyptic setting with a flooded planet.

As an aesthetic: While the aesthetic is not clearly defined, there is a good chance that it borrows heavily from the late 17th and early 18th century and the golden age of piracy, when it comes to both ships and fashion sensibilities.

Punk-Factor: Pirates, at least as far as modern media imagines them, tend to be very punk, as they tend to inherently oppose any sort of government and what not. While the punk is not there in all of the stories, a lot of the most popular stories from the genre will feature at least lightly punky elements.

Examples: One Piece (1997), Pirates of the Caribbean (2003), Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag (2013)

Dungeonpunk

As a genre: So, the idea of the genre is basically “What if Cyberpunk, but Dungeons & Dragons?” Usually set in a vaguely medieval world, this world still shows the same corporate corruption as your usual Cyberpunk world. Adventurers are just another resource to be exploited by the system, their day job involving going on yet another dungeon crawl. For this there might be some technology entirely powered by magic, with those magic items taking over the same functions technology might have in a Cyberpunk world. And yes, indeed some brave dwarf, elf or halfling might rise up and challenge the corporate dungeon syndicate. (As you might sense: Yes, this genre tends to be at least partly a bit of a parody of the punkpunk idea. Though it also can be played straight as “Cyberpunk conflicts, just that all technology is somehow magic.”)

As an aesthetic: This is once again one of the examples, where there is a clear idea behind it – but absolutely no clear aesthetic, as this genre might cover anything from medieval settings to a lot more modern stuff.

Punk-Factor: The base idea, being heavily inspired by the base idea of Cyberpunk, just from a very different perspective. But too many people read the genre as “Magic Technology, yay”, in which case, no, it is not punk.

Examples: Dungeons & Dragons can be played this way, also Final Fantasy VI – XIII definitely counts.

Sandalpunk

As a genre: I mostly include this for the sake of it, because this genre tends to boil down to “fantasy set in ancient Greece or Rome, but with vaguely anachronistic elements”. It might also include alternate history stories (even going so far as Science Fiction) based on the idea “What if Ancient Rome/Ancient Greece never fell?” There is no real overarching themes, even though I could imagine some interesting way one could build those up. So far, though, it is mostly a vague gesture towards: “SciFi Fantasy, but with more ancient civilizations.”

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic is usually just Ancient Rome or Ancient Greece, but with more magic or anachronistic elements.

Punk-Factor: Given the super vague nature of the genre and the fact that it seems more like a genre of hindsight (with most media being declared this having been released even before 2000)… Nobody wrote those stories to be punk. The one punk thing I can see about several of these stories is people challenging Gods, but… That’s about it.Examples: Hercules: Legendary Journeys (1995), Xena: Warrior Princess (1995), God of War (2005)

Stonepunk

As a genre: The basic idea of Stonepunk is, that it is set in a stone age world, but with the technology being pressed towards a very anachronistic end, which is often played for laughs. Basically it gives stone age people a modern seeming world, though not really. Often enough this is used to make a point about the modern world and parody it in some regard. An argument can be made for stories, that feature stone age technology people being somehow subjected to modern technology (for example through time travel or space travel) also possibly falling into this genre.

As an aesthetic: Usually the aesthetic of Stonepunk is one of an overplayed stone age setting. The clothing characters might wear are not what we know is historically more accurate but really just “everyone wears a pelt around their shoulders”. Meanwhile stone age tools get spun to be used as all sorts of modern technologies.

Punk-Factor: The genre does usually not feature punk themes. However, the nature of parodying and challenging the modern world tends to be punk in its own merit, I assume?

Examples: The Flintstones (1960), The Croods (2013), Horizon: Zero Dawn (2017)

That's it. That's the list.

Feel free to add to it.

1K notes · View notes

ellssbellss · 2 years

Note

I may or may not have been awake for about 48 house, so I wanted to ask a request before I fall asleep.

The hosts when their SO was up for 2 days straight doing work and starts to slip when get to the host club and acting a little bit too much like the Kyoya.

been thinking about this more than my actual story lately, and i have terrible writer's block, so hopefully this will help! {thank you, anon for the idea!}

The Host Club and their Sleepy, Cranky S.O. {Ohshc X Gender Neutral!Reader}

.oOo.

"mon amour? you need to wake up, darling." tamaki's voice whispers gently in your ear.

the darkness that had surrounded you minutes ago suddenly vanishes as you open your eyes, your head swiftly lifting off of the hard surface that you had rested your eyes upon just a few minutes ago.

it had been just a few minutes, right?

coming out of your tired daze, you feel a warm hand under your chin, and your eyes are turned to meet the concerned, violet gaze of your boyfriend. he is positioned above you, one soft hand resting the club's table in front of you and the other on your face, trailing gently from the point of your chin to the roundness of your cheekbones as his thumb runs gently over the skin there.

"my love, do you know what time it is?" his voice was like butter as dips his head a little deeper, worry creasing his perfect face as he watches you lean into his touch almost automatically.

"mmph..." through his stress about your exhausted state, he giggles slightly as you sigh and shrug, your eyelids dropping more with each second. "i don't know, love."

"it's nine, (y/n)."

"what?" any haze that had chained your brain was broken as you shot out of his gentle hold.

straightening your back, you peer towards the large windows that created a barrier between the club room and the outside world, seeing an endless night erasing any of the natural light you had experienced when you walked in here after class.

"it's nine o'clock?" panicked, the chair screeches across pristine tile as you grab at the things scattered across the table. laptop, charging cords, notebooks and pencils all make their way into your grasp as you hurriedly shove them into your bag. "why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

tamaki had watched the stress bunch up in your shoulders the minute you broke away from his grasp. he watches it wind into your muscles and face as you close up your pack and swing it around one arm, hastily pushing the chair in.

"you look like you needed your rest." he says softly, taken aback by your harsh tone. "i talked to my father to let us stay here a little while longer, since i know you have been working really hard on that project you have, and i thought-"

"exactly!" without raising your voice, he feels the sharp frustration rolling off the tip of your tongue, and it pierces something tender as you whip around to face him. "i have been working so hard not to get behind on my schedule, and now that's all out window. why didn't you wake me up like I asked?"

yellow eyebrows raise as you bite back at him, and he is getting whiplash from the sudden venom in your voice. "i tried, (y/n), but you didn't wake up!" his hands move in an pleading gesture. "you shoved my hand off when i tried to shake you and faced the other way when i kissed your cheek. the end of the world couldn't wake you."

your lips purse as your eyes squint and roll, and you stomp towards the door. stuttering, your golden retriever boyfriend follows behind as you nearly rip the door off it's hinges in your haste.

his words are rushed as he rushes to follow you out of the club room as you make your way down the long, empty staircase. "truly, you're not as behind as you might think, angel, not with all the work you've been doing?"

"you would think, huh?" another frustrated sigh escapes you, but it's more tuned towards yourself than anything. you push through the grand entrance of the school.

tamaki chases you out into the moonlight. his tall form stops in the doorframe though, when he sees the way the pale light drapes over your figure.

your usual bright stance sags in the night, and the hand he loves to hold rakes harshly through your perfect locks before it disappears to run down your face.

"(y/n), mon amour, what's wrong?" you hear his dress shoes click against the pavement. long arms wrap around your waist from behind, and a soft cheek nuzzles against the side of your face. tamaki tightens his hold, encouraging you to melt into his form. "talk to me."

after nothing more than a second, you do, because how could you not?

your head falls back as your spine molds into the bends and divots of tamaki's long torso, and a deep, shuddering sigh ripples out of you.

"i'm sorry, my love." tamaki feels your apology vibrate against his chest. "i just-, i've been extra stressed lately."

"about your project?"

"yes."

"why, angel?"

your neck twists, and you meet your prince's gaze in the complexity of his embrace, and tamaki sees the deep circles under your eyes. he notes how they had darkened since the last time he noticed them.

"i just have a lot riding on my grade for this course. my mother is counting on me for the future of her company, and if this project doesn't go well, then..."

"stop it." the comforting hug he had wrapped you in briefly vanishes as his touch pulls against your uniform. his fingers travel up your waist and forearms, gently grasping your shoulders as he spins you around to face him. "stop thinking like that."

when you're looking at him, his hands run up the rest of your body to your face, holding your jawline in his touch. "you've been working and worrying for two days, mon amour. you haven't been taking care of yourself, and there is nothing more important than your wellbeing."

his tone is different from his gallivanting, and incredibly endearing, dramatics. it's gracefully intense, like when he helped a struggling doctor find his way to his estranged daughter. the way he looks at you is also fierce, love and determination swimming in his purple irises.

"tamaki..."

"why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

"i haven't had the time!" your voice tries weakly to defend yourself, but tamaki raises another eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "there isn't enough time in the day for me to work as hard as i have been and get a full night's rest."

"then why haven't you come to me about it?"

"i...i don't know." defeated, there is a drop in your gaze as you give up trying to defend yourself. "i thought i could do it on my own."

"you don't have to do anything on your own. not when you're with me." tamaki bends slightly to get into your line of sight. "you know you can talk to me, (y/n); that i'm here to give you anything and everything you need."

your (e/c) eyes whip back up to him. "i know that, love, but i-"

"no buts. you come to me if you need me. that's how it has always been for us."

the moonlight reflects off the small amount of wetness in your eyes, and tamaki's serious expression crumples. all of your stress and exhaustion breathes out of your body at his words. he smiles softly as you bury your face in his chest, placing his hand on your hair and another at your back, kissing the side of your head.

"i need you." your voice sings through the night, into the air as it's carried into the rose garden, red petals fully in bloom.

.oOo.

kyoya has seen this look before.

the tension of your lips as they writhe over your teeth. the slam of your footsteps as you make your way over to your usual seat across from him. especially the small smile you give to whomever greets you.

the smile that doesn't reach your eyes. the smile that falls immediately after you give some random excuse to dismiss yourself from the conversation, and you let it fall because you think no one is looking.

but kyoya was watching.

"good morning, (y/n)." he greets over his laptop as you click open your own, and you meet his gaze briefly before turning your attention back to your computer, giving him the same dismissive smile.

being that he was your boyfriend, that hurt a little.

"good morning, kyo."

he lets his eyes linger on the bored, dull look that you attach to your screen, accompanied by your sluggish movements and purple smudges under your eyes. a dark eyebrow quirks from behind his glasses as your chest rises with a sigh, and your face crinkles despairingly at whatever you are working on.

"what are you doing?"

your lashes flick up to him once more before returning back to your task at hand. "i'm working on the budget."

he blinks a little at your reply. "still?"

the tension from your mouth seeps into your form at his question, and you shift in your seat. "yes, love, thank you so much for pointing that out."

lips parting slightly at the sarcasm in your voice, the club's director raises his fingers off of his keyboard, favoring to clasp them under his chin instead as a more calculating gaze sweeps the figure of his beloved.

he catches an eyebrow twitch, a flare of your nostrils, the way your head bobs slightly before you shake it, as if that could erase the pure exhaustion radiating from you.

yes, kyoya has seen this look before.

in the mirror.

"how much sleep did you get last night, my dear?"

this time, you don't even look at him when you answer. you just shrug at him, too focused on your typing to really concentrate on a reply. "i don't know. maybe an hour or so-."

a sharp flare of concern rises in his chest before you spin your computer on it's base, shoving the screen in his direction with a wary look in your eye. "does this look right to you? i feel like something's missing."

his hands are still at his mouth when he glances at the spreadsheet you two created together, the perfect, color coded numbers arranged into straight columns.

but his brow furrows even more the longer he looks at it. lowering his hands to the device, kyoya pulls it closer to him as he scrolls through, skimming the text for any sign of error or miscalculation.

he finds none.

"(y/n), this is perfect." his pupils dart across the page behind his frames. "i have no idea what you're stressing over."

the laptop is pulled away from him once more as you run a hand through your hair. "no, no." you hit the backspace button on your keyboard, tired eyes squinting over the excel sheet. "something isn't right."

your aggressive typing fills the air once more, a little more frenzied and anxious than a minute before.

kyoya leans back in his chair, still observing. "(y/n), have you been working out this budget since the time i sent it to you?"

"of course."

"that was two days ago."

"i know."

he stands, pushing out his chair, but you don't notice. "have you slept at all?"

"not really. i've been going through the math, the incoming inventory. sure, it looks perfect now, and we are within this month's spending range, but i know there's a way to save more money. if i could just-"

"that," the lid of your computer is suddenly pushed down, closing the screen in front of you. a pale hand with pianist-like fingers attached to it splays across your protective case. "is more than enough, then."

"kyoya!" you sit in front of him, shock emanating from your face as his name is gasped from your lips. "what the hell?"

kyoya leans in front of you, one hand bracing your laptop closed while the other slips into the pocket of his trousers. his raven hair falls into his eyes a little bit, but the gray color is still piercing and raw.

"my dear," he pulls away slightly, adding pressure onto your computer so that it drags to his side of the table. "you need to take a break."

"a break?" you rise as well, trying to keep a cool demeanor. but your director could tell that your patience was thinning. "i'm on the brink of figuring this out, and you want me to take a break?"

"you already have figured it out, (y/n). i looked it over. you found the solution."

"but it could be better."

quickly, kyoya rounds the table, walking into your space to grab one of your hands.

he places both of his palms around one of your own, trying to get through to you through his touch instead of his words, even if the connection was small.

"how much sleep have you had in the past forty-eight hours?"

abandoned by the distraction your work gave you, you now face your boyfriend head on as he studies your movements.

since the moment you met him, kyoya has always watched you intently. as a man who didn't involve himself with anything that he didn't care greatly for, the process of dating him has and will always include him taking the time to observe and study you; to commit your mannerisms to memory. gray irises will forever notice how you bounce your leg underneath your desk when you have something to say but won't say it out right. or how you take your (f/h/d) in the morning, and the exact brand that you use.

or how your face lights up when he comes into view from down the hallway, and you excuse yourself to meet him halfway.

or how you always seem to kiss him with soothing, deep movements, which always encourages him to respond in kind.

but, very rarely is that intent stare coupled with concern.

yet, here it was, bathing his beloved gaze as he waits for your reply, leaving you with an aching heart. you think back to they way you've been acting, cranky and stand-offish, and a pang of regret sparks in your stomach.

your hand adjusts slightly in his as you hold onto his grasp, albeit a little nervously.

"you want the truth?" your beautiful eyes break his gaze as you stubbornly shift in place.

"always."

"not very much. maybe three hours." he swallows as that sharp flare of concern burns into an engulfing flame in his torso. "in total."

A disappointed frown etches onto his handsome features, but it's not angry. it's sad.

sad that he didn't see your exhaustion before, not in it's totality. he saw your frequent yawns and the way you tended to drift off mid-conversation, but he was busy with work as well, and couldn't connect the dots until now.

"(y/n)-"

"i know, i know. it's not the best." you take a deep breath and look at him with more confidence, ready to admit to your actions. "the perfectionist in me kind of let loose. i'm sorry, i just wanted it to be the best that it could be. for the club, ya know? for you."

tugging on your clasped hands, a deep hum resonates from the ootori son as he draws you closer. soon, your hands naturally loop around his neck while he settles his hold at your waist.

his forehead rests on yours as he sighs deeply, and you close your eyes as his low voice reaches your ears. "i think the best thing for me and the club is for you to get some rest."

he smirks a little as he feels you giggle tiredly against him. "yeah, i think you're right."

kyoya chuckles softly as he raises his forehead off of yours to place a kiss in the same spot. "i'm always right, my dear."

.oOo.

"hikaru! stop it!"

arms caged yours as you writhed against his chest. your legs were wild as they kicked up into the air, barely missing your boyfriend as he picked you up from where you had sat on your desk.

"put me down right now! what are you even doing?"

he grunts a little as your swinging legs hit his calves before throwing you down on your bed. unceremoniously, the bed frame creaks with your weight as you land face first into your duvet.

a loud huff escapes you as you turn around from your position, seeing hikaru standing at the foot of your bed with his arms crossed, a victorious smile plastered onto his sharp mouth.

"well, i asked you to take a break from your studying. and you said 'make me.'" his fingers come to either side of his head to create quotation marks. "so i made ya."

"i didn't mean literally, jackass." you grumble as you shift. your palms push your body up off the bed and spin you so that you are seated properly on your comforter. scooting roughly to the edge of your mattress, you barely stand up before your pushed onto the bed again.

"hikaru!"

"nope. not gonna happen."

"i need to study!"

"that's what you've been saying for the past two days!" his rough voice sounds exasperated as he gestures wildly to you. "in the clubroom, in the cafeteria, on our facetime calls. shit, (y/n), i don't think there has been a single second where i haven't seen that textbook open in front of you."

he points to the hefty calculus book open on your desk, three quarters of the pages turned to one side.

"that's what studying is!" you move to get up again with another frustrated sigh. "my test is tomorrow, my love, i can't afford any breaks right now."

this time, instead of simply pushing your back onto the bed, hikaru pins you down. in a flash, golden eyes fill your vision as his fingers clamp around your wrist. when you fall back, his weight takes you down as he flops heavily on your chest.

"you're not going anywhere, baby. not until you tell me what's going on."

"nothing is going on." you huff, blowing a few of his ginger strands out of his face. "now get off me."

"i don't believe you." ever the stubborn twin, hikaru makes a point to wiggle his body on top of yours to amplify the fact that you have no hope of pushing him off. "and i'm not moving until i believe you."

"what?" you bite back.

a more serious tone laces his voice as he scans you. "today, during club hours, you looked like a zombie."

you shoot him a blank look. "thanks."

"a gorgeous zombie, but still."

"not helping."

a crease forms between his eyebrows at your usually soft, bright tone crackling into dry one. "you were dragging your feet, and talking to yourself more than usual. it was creepy."

you rolled your eyes, and hikaru watches as the bags under your eyes moved with the motion, his jaw setting into a firm line.

"so i'm not getting off of you until you tell me what's been up your ass lately."

offended, you gasp and writhe once more, trying to break free of the surprisingly strong grasp the hitachiin twin has on your wrists. "i don't have time for this!"

he chuckles a little at your flustered expression and sinks more of his weight onto your figure. "well, if you're not going to take a break, than i will. i think i'll take a little nap on this comfortable bed."

realizing he doesn't need to pin your arms down anymore with all of his weight on you, he lets go and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his arms and legs sprawling out over your uniform.

"don't you dare, hikaru!" you say as you try to bring your arms underneath him to push him off, but he's just a block of dead weight.

his breath hits your ear, and you can feel the mischievous smile on his lips. "oh, wow, this is a bumpy mattress." wriggling, he adjusts so that he locks perfectly into your body, and a deep sigh emits from his lungs. "that's better."

another weak push strains your muscles before you give up completely. flopping back onto the mattress, you let out a frustrated groan.

"hikaru, please."

"oh, the mattress speaks?"

"my love."

laughing, he presses a kiss onto the column of your throat. "what's up, baby?"

like a weighted blanket, hikaru's body flush against yours has calmed your heart rate slightly, and all the exhaustion and stress that you have been feeling suddenly comes to a head.

your arms lift from your sides to wrap around his toned back, and you turn your face into the divot connecting his shoulder and his collarbone, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne and laundry detergent.

"i've been awake for the past forty-eight hours."

his chest rumbles with a sympathetic hum. "i know."

"i'm tired."

his head pops up from the embrace, and sincerity shines in the liquid gold of his irises. "let's take a nap, and then we can figure something out afterwards, yeah?"

you can already feel your eyelids dragging over your pupils. "yeah, that sounds nice."

as you succumb to your fatigue, you barely register the way hikaru rolls off of you. his warmth returns when you feel an arm wedge itself under your waist and pull you to him so that you can lay on his chest with ease. the other wraps around your shoulders, and you feel his breath tickling the top of your head as he settles in beside you.

"thanks for telling me, baby."

.oOo.

"so, i think because i found the magnitude of this vector, than i should be able to find the acceleration, right?" kaoru asks, back hunched over his desk, spinning a pencil in his left hand as he concentrates on the paperwork in front of him.

when he doesn't get a response, he stops fidgeting and looks over to you: his incredibly intelligent, and usually helpful, partner.

you're sat next to him, slaving away at your laptop while he watches the blue light practically burn your retinas.

well, sat is a strong word.

you slouched, your neck barely able to keep your head on your shoulders as you worked at his desk, fingers robotically clicking at your mouse and dragging images to their predetermined place, your graphic design coming to fruition with each release of a button.

"(y/n)?"

at the sound of your name, your spine flinches slightly as it straightens. you whip your head towards him with such a quick motion, that he winces at the twist of the muscle, hoping you didn't get whiplash.

his hopes are dashed when you immediately face the front, bringing one of your hands up to massage the nape of your neck.

"are you okay?"

"i'm fine," you breathe, exhaustion sprinkled in your sigh. "what did you need?"

cautiously, kaoru slides his paper over to you while you shift closer to him, pulling your chair over until your legs touch underneath his desk.

"i don't know if i got this problem right."

through a yawn, your eyes scan his homework, everything coming together in a blurry font due to your lack of sleep. you can barely make out his handwriting on your best day, so the fact that you hardly think straight doesn't really help.

but you couldn't let kaoru know that.

"it looks good, babe."

he quirks a ginger eyebrow, glancing between the paper and then back up to where you sat.

"yeah?" he asks, studying you carefully.

"for sure."

"okay, well then," your boyfriend flips the paper over, where another disarray of words meet you. he scribbles something out before circling an answer choice from his options, then looks back at you. "that must be right, too, yeah?"

you nod, blinking slowly. "mhmm." you turn to look at him, a small smile on your lips. "you're so smart, love."

his lips curve up into a half-smirk as he tilts his head, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. golden irises squint as he glances over your face once more. "it's a smiley face."

your smile fades. "huh?"

the sneaky twin gestures towards the paper again, and after rubbing your palms over your eye-sockets, a happy face penciled in lead comes into accusing focus.

"i drew a smiley face, and you said i was smart." kaoru summarizes, a deadpan tone only being interrupted slightly as he laughs through his sentence. "what is going on with you?"

a frustrated whine ripples past your throat as you rest your head in your hands. your voice breaks into a quiet groan, and while your volume doesn't rise, your disappointment does. "god, this essay is making me lose my mind! i can't even think clearly, let alone write three more pages of this shit."

"hey, woah." kaoru rests his hand against your spine and rubs it, moving his hand back and forth in calming motions. "talk to me."

another deep sigh rushed out of you as you talk behind your hands, and your poor boyfriend can't hear a single thing.

the hand on your back glides to the side of your face, bringing your chin up and out of your grasp. he locks his gaze with yours as he leans back in his chair. "try again, babe."

"this essay makes me want to jump off a cliff."

"and you were gonna do that without me? i thought we had an agreement."

"shut up." despite yourself, you laugh.

the fingers on your chin shift to your scalp while he laughs with you, pushing only a few of the stray hairs away from your face. "have you slept?"

"not well."

kaoru notes a redness in your eyes he didn't see before. "not well, or not at all?"

you roll your eyes a little, but he knows it's not directed at him. you're disappointed in yourself. "a mix of both." hastily you look back at him, widening your eyelids a little at a poor attempt to look more awake.

"but it's no big deal!" your voice is a little too bright. "i can catch up on sleep once i submit this paper."

the gingered twin squints his eyes, but to your surprise, he shrugs, spinning in his office chair as he refocuses on his work. "yeah, i guess you're right. i get it."

your mouth was slightly agape at the fact that that actually worked. "you get it?"

"yeah. sometimes, people just can't sleep enough with everything going, ya know? i only got two hours of sleep last night, so i understand what you're going through."

there's a pause. kaoru fights a smirk as he scratches an equation into the top right of his paper.

"what?" a concerned voice reaches his ears, and he almost feels bad for lying. "only two hours?"

"mhmm." he hums, not even giving you a second glance.

"kaoru," the sweetest whine escapes your lips as he feels a hand on his shoulder. he steels his expression into one of confused nonchalance as he faces you again, only to be met with the spot you get between your crinkled eyebrow when you're worried. "why didn't you tell me?"

"what do you mean? it's not a big deal."

"yes it is!" your other hand reaches his opposite shoulder, and he turns to face you fully, reveling in your touch as you move to cradle his face. "sleep is important, babe, you can't just-"

his grin widens as a flash of realization flutters across your face. The worry in your features melts into a blank expression, and he laughs as you push his face away from yours, muttering a "jackass" under your breath.

the sneaky twin closes the distance though, pulling your chair ever closer to his to where nothing was standing in his way to pull you to his lap. you resist slightly, pouting as your sat into the space between his legs, but a natural, familiar gravity pulls you towards him anyway, and your face rests gently in the crook of his neck.

"rest for a couple minutes, okay? your paper will be here when you wake up."

a contended sigh seeps out of you as your exhaustion bubbles up to the surface. your eyelids begin to drop when you speak into his neck. "and what about you?"

kaoru's arms come to wrap around your folded form, burying you closer into his chest. "i'll always be here."

.oOo.

mori had gotten used to your talkative nature. being a man of little words, you complimented him well with your bright, energetic commentary about anything that excited you.

he supposed that he hadn't just gotten used to your bubbly personality shining through your lovely voice, he had come to love it; to rely on it.

so, when you entered your usual sparring session with your heels dragging on the wooden floor of the dojo, not only did the air feel off, he felt off.

your white gi hung off your rounded shoulders, the karate belt around your waist haphazardly tied in a knot at the front. and while you still looked as stunning as ever, mori could feel the confusion and worry well up in his chest.

he stood up from stretching out his hamstrings, his long body gracefully walking over to you to greet you with his usual hug. your smile was tired, and when you wrapped your arms around his thin waist, he felt you snuggle more into his hold and release a breath.

still gripping his waist, you looked up at him, your grin still exhausted but content when you propped your chin on his chest to meet his eyes.

"hey." you said, and your voice was airy and cracked.

"hi."

"how was your day?"

"good." his palms tightened on your back. "yours?"

you could barely keep your eyes open as you shrugged. "meh. it was interesting."

"yeah?"

"yeah." still, even in your tired state, you inched your face closer to his, a dazed look in your eye. "but we can talk about it later."

a disbelieving, good-natured scoff left him as a sharp exhale, your boyfriend knowing full-well that would not want to talk about it later. but he met you halfway, and your lips met in a lazy, soft kiss as he lowered his head to yours.

you had nearly put all of your weight onto him at this point, and as you sunk into his grip, he arched his back to counteract the force. his hands glided from your waist to your cheeks as he tilted his head, smirking slightly at the warm hum that left your throat.

pulling away, he kept his forehead on yours as he held you. a breathy left glazed over his face when you separated from him, and he opened his eyes to see a light curve on your plump lips.

"thanks, takashi. i needed that."

that brought all of his worries rushing back.

"(y/n)..." and you opened your eyes at the way he said your name. since mori wasn't the most vocal man you've been with, you learned to pick up on his tonal cues.

your name could be spoken in many ways. a gentle breeze as he tells you that he loves you, a deep inhale as you, yet again, prove your the clumsiest human alive, or maybe a groan in the late, late hours of the night.

this one was a mild warning, forming at the front of his mouth as he stares at you, deep brown eyes boring into yours with earnest.

"what?" you didn't want him to ask. but, he was kind and loving and really fucking stubborn. so, of course he was.

"what's wrong?"

a whine bubbled to the surface of your soft pallet as you dropped your face into the crook of his neck, even if you had to stand on your tip-toes to do so. abandoning your hold on his waist, you preferred to bring your arms up and around his shoulders, locking them around the back of his neck.

"i don't want to talk about it."

"what happened?"

"nothing, really. i promise."

"doesn't feel like nothing. here," gently, you felt a pressure on your hips as mori pushes you out of his hold, instead moving to grab your hand as he leads you to a traditionally decorated wall of the dojo.

letting go, the stoic leans his back against the wall before sliding down, tucking his lanky form into a sitting position before inviting you to do the same. "sit with me."

and he looked so sweet, his gaze hardened on the surface but filled with emotion and weight within it's depths. so how could you say no?

plus, he really wouldn't stop until you told him.

taking a spot next to him, you let your head roll onto the back of the wall before resting it on his shoulder. and the spot was so comfortable, so familiar, you wanted to fall asleep right there.

mori was stubborn, yes, but he was also patient. he waited like a boulder against the tide as you gathered your thoughts, loyal and permanent and determined to help you through whatever was plaguing you.

in your thoughtful silence, he imagined the stress you had been baring when you were assigned that presentation in class. even if you were energetic and outspoken, he knew public speaking terrified you. the pure panic that had erupted in your irises when you told him about the ten-minute powerpoint you had to put together in three days told him everything he needed to know about how your weekend was going to go.

that was two days ago, and he had suggested this impromptu sparring match to give you a little bit of a break. physical activity always cleared his head when he was stretched, and he figured if he could remind you how strong you were, then you could convince yourself that this would be a piece of cake.

but the bags under your eyes and the unanswered calls from him on your cell-phone made him think that this had been harder on you than he had originally expected.

a small snore broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at the source.

your eyes were peacefully closed, and your lips were parted as deep, calm breaths washed in and out of your chest. he relaxed slightly into the wall, and smiled as you cuddled closer to him in his small movement.

kissing the top of your head, he rested his cheekbone upon your hair as he rested his eyes as well.

you two would talk later. it wasn't physical activity you needed, or even a helping hand if you had let him.

all you needed, really, was a little bit of rest.

.oOo.

"(n/n)-chan! (n/n)-chan!"

honey bounced up to your desk as you typed away, usa-chan banging against the side of his calves as he stopped at the end of your chair. "wanna play with me, (n/n)-chan?"

you barely spared him a glance, but your eyes met his with a quick shake of your head as you returned your urgent glance to your laptop. "not right now, honey. sorry."

the blonde's bouncing stopped, a little to awe-struck at your rejection to feel sad about it. he was more confused than anything. you never said no to him.

a deep, apparent wrinkle appeared between his brows as the boy-lolita tugged on your sleeve, causing your fingers to slip off the keyboard slightly as you typed. "please?"

"what the-?" your hand having slipped, it gently brushes the cup of tea near your working space, and you gasp before rolling your eyes. "no, honey. i told you, i can't. go play with usa-chan, okay?" you quickly pulled your sleeve out of his grasp and got back to your work, leaving him deflated at your side.

this time he was pouting, and the wrinkle on his forehead turned from confused to determined as he walked around to the opposite side of the table to crawl into the chair across from you.

"what are you workin' on?"

this time your eyes flicked up to him for a longer moment. you wondered why he couldn't leave you alone, but you guessed it was better that he was sitting over there rather than pulling at your uniform and keeping you from your work. "the club's website."

he gasped as he swung his legs on the chair, too short to reach the ground from this height. "ooh, are you making it pretty?"

a sigh came from deep within you as your eyes squinted, zooming in on something on the other side of your screen. "you could say that."

"what are you doing to it?"

you shrugged, still focused on your work. "formatting, graphic designing, boring tech stuff."

"cool!" honey excitedly places his palms on the table, seeing if he sat up straighter, he could get a better view. "how do you know how to do all that?"

you suspiciously scanned him over as he edged closer, pulling your computer forward on the table. "lots of practice."

a high-pitched hum exudes from the third-year as he tilts his head, almost fully on the table now, but something has caught your eye, and your back to your furious typing, not noticing how close he's gotten.

his voice sounds distant in your focus. "couldn't you take a break? for cake? a cake break?" he giggles, but his smile falters when you don't hear his joke.

"haven't taken a break in two days, honey. not gonna start now." your voice is low and inattentive, trailing off as you scroll through the columns and columns of pictures and texts.

still crawling towards you, his brown eyes widen slightly. "two days?" he gasps, and begins to count on his fingers. "that's uhhh..." honey counts his fingers under his breath for a moment before he brightens with an answer. "forty eight hours worth of work! did you even sleep?"

"nope. no sleep. kyoya needs this done by tonight."

"what?!" at that, honey stands to his full height, his small but strudy weight easily supported by the desk underneath him. you jerk back as he points a finger in your face, his voice still young but firm as he speaks down to you. "you need to take a nap right now!"

"honey!" the blonde has your full attention now. "get down!"

"nope!" his pink lips pop the 'p' noise as he shakes his head defiantly. "not until you agree to sleep! kyo-chan can wait."

your hands come up in an exasperated motion and you stand up, pushing your chair out from under you. "honey, this table is not stable. you're gonna fall if you don't get down!"

"will you take a break?"

"i can't!"

"well, then i'm not coming down." folding his arms across his chest, he puffs it out, a proud look on his face.

his confident aura melts, however, when the table shifts with his dramatic movement.

you suck in a breath as honey throws his arms out to balance himself, barely keeping the table at bay as he wiggles side to side.

"okay! okay, i'll take a ten-minute nap! just, please sweetheart, get down from there."

even in the midst of chaos of his own making, honey still finds the. motivation to negotiate. "twenty minutes!"

"fine!" you round the table and extend your arms, and he leaps into them as you pick him up. your heart rate slows as you hold him while the table falls with the loss of his added weight, your tea and computer skidding to opposite sides of the tile.

blankly, you look at honey as he winces at the impact, and then at the dark aura that slowly begins to crowd around your frame.

"i can pay for that." he promises.

.oOo.

your knee bounces under your desk as you watch haruhi's eyes flick over your screen, the words you spent two days writing reflecting back in her dark brown eyes as she reads your work.

your hands are clasped in front of your lips, keeping you from saying anything like 'i changed my mind!' or 'okay, you can stop now', because you're pretty sure haruhi would ignore you anyway.

she had insisted on reading your short story. it was something you did in your free time, and it was something she knew you took pride in.

sometimes, if you felt courageous enough, you would submit them into newspapers, or maybe magazines and blogs if you were really going all out, this past weekend being one of those times. day in and day out, you sat at your writing desk, typing away for what felt like mere seconds as the story in your mind began to unfold onto the pages in front of you. barely any food and close to no sleep rendered a masterpiece of literature, or at least that was what haruhi had assured you she would call it if you let her proof-read it.

your natural host promised that it would take her only a few minutes to read the whole thing, and then you could be on your way to submit it to the magazine's editor. plus, it was the least you could do since you basically ignored her calls and used up all of your study-date time to edit and revise your concluding paragraph.

but finally, finally, after many torturous seconds, your girlfriend leans back. her hands wrap around the edge of your macbook to only shut the laptop halfway and push it aside, turning her full attention back to you.

very briefly, you pulls your hands away from your mouth to ask the question you've been dreading. "what do you think?"

the gentle look that haruhi always wears stays frozen for a moment, but slowly starts to melt into a soft smile as she meets your nervous gaze. "it's good, love. it's really good."

straightening, your eyes widen as you bite your lip. "really?"

her smile gets brighter as amazement floods your cheekbones. "really."

"oh my god." releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding, you throw yourself into the back of your chair. pulling your palms up and around, they rake over your face before scratching through your hair, a groan morphing into a laugh as relief sputters out of you. you feel like you need to say it again, probably louder for good measure. "oh my god! you really liked it?"

the honor student's deep laugh joins yours as watches you bask in a job well done. "why would i lie about that?"

touching down to earth, you shrug, your hands falling into your lap. "because you love me, and you would do anything to make me happy?"

she snorts, leaning forward as she is drawn into your space. "you're right. i do love you. probably just enough to never lie to you again."

a teasing smile curves your lips as you fake offended disbelief, scooting closer so that your knees slip between her own. "again?"

brunette eyebrows work upwards as haruhi mirrors your smirk, nodding as she gets even closer. "mhmm."

"and what have you lied about, haruhi dear?" her breath is mixing in with yours now, and she keeps her kiss barely out of reach, her lips grazing yours as she responds.

"about letting you leave tonight."

"wha-?" your eyebrows knit as haruhi shoots out of her chair, and before you can protest, she is straddling your hips, one of her legs on either side of you as you blush at her sudden proximity.

"haruhi!" but even if your voice sounds surprised, you hold her closer, your palms coming to rest on her thighs.

"when was the last time you slept?" she asks, suddenly serious as she cups your face in her hands.

"last night." you say, but she squints at your response.

"for how long?"

"enough." you whine, bringing your hands around her waist, encouraging her to be flush against you. "don't worry about it."

"(y/n), you look exhausted. i'm going to be worried about it."

you look at her for a moment before realizing that she isn't going to back down. shoulders slumping, you drop your head onto her shoulder, hugging her close to your body. "two hours. maybe."

a displeased noise expels from her throat, but suddenly you feel slender fingers rubbing your back, toying with the hairs on the back of your neck. "you need to sleep."

making a grunt of blind agreement, you melt into her hold, the excitement and anxiousness you felt about your story being blown away by a gust of drowsiness. the scratches on your scalp weren't helping.

"like right now." she emphasizes, and tries to wiggle out of your hold, but you were stronger. tightening your grip around her slim waist.

her shoulders shake with another endearingly low laugh as she hugs you back. "let's get to the bed, love."

you don't think you've ever slept deeper in your life.

.oOo.

starting to write again, and i used this as a little exersise to get back into it. hopefully it can tide you over! i'll see you soon :)

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kaciidubs · 10 months

Note

KACII DARLING ARE U SEEING WHAT IM SEEING ?

I JUST REALISED HE ISNT WEARING A SHIRT ITS JUST A FUCKING NECK PILLOW… AND THE BARE FACE AND HIS HAND I CAAAAANNNNNTTTTT *sobs*

No but imagine your laying down with him and he wants to watch his anime and you’re just laying on his chest kissing his pretty self while he tries to concentrate 🥹

My darling, I'm seeing ALL OF THIS AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!! I didn't even realize he was shirtless, I thought the thing around his neck was a black tank top, omg

"Let me know if the TV's too loud, yeah?"

You hummed tiredly in acknowledgement, tucking yourself further against his side as he tugged the blanket up your bodies.

It was the perfect recipe; you, your boyfriend, a fan blowing a gentle breeze (to save you from your living space heater of a boyfriend), and a show playing in the background to aid in lulling you to sleep.

When Chris mentioned wanting to catch the newest episode of the anime he was watching on release, you agreed with no qualms. You watched a few episodes with him from time to time, but it wasn't one of your main shows so you didn't mind missing out on the current release for the sake of catching up on some much needed sleep.

Though, when the intro theme started playing through the speakers, and Chris's gentle hums vibrated through his chest, you found yourself woefully slipping further away from actually falling asleep.

Yes, you were tired, exhausted even, but your brain refused to let go of the fact that you were laying in bed with your boyfriend - not quite a rarity, but the current trend of going to sleep before he was home due to their comeback did do a number on your sleeping habits.

Peeking an eye open, you figured you could at least watch a few scenes of the show to tire your brain out, but as the minutes passed like hours you could tell it wasn't what you needed, what you wanted.

You needed to sleep, but you wanted to spend time with your insanely busy boyfriend.

Huffing softly, you allowed yourself to fall into that mood, albeit a bit selfishly, as you tilted your head up with a pout. "Channie."

He turned his head almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed at the whine in your tone, "Hm? What's wrong - is it too loud?"

A hum of disagreement floated pat your lips, "No, I just... Can I have a kiss?"

It took him a second to register your words, but when he did a small smile grew on his face, "Baby, you didn't have to ask, come here."

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, lingering in the embrace for a moment before pulling away - at least, he would have if it weren't for your left hand cupping his jaw, a short whine escaping you.

"More?"

Your tired plea made him chuckle, lidded eyes gazing at you with undeniable love, "Yes, you can have more, baby."

He couldn't care less about the episode going on without his attention, not when your lips were on his again; soft and warm, simply lingering against his own until you decided to add another peck to the mix.

You both stayed like that for god knows how long, existing in your little bubble until you pulled away for a yawn to escape, Chris chuckling at your obvious dismay at the interruption.

"Go to sleep, princess," he hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaning his cheek on the crown of your head, "I'll kiss you extra in the morning, yeah?"

Your hand slipped to his bare chest, fingers lightly tapping at his collarbone as you nodded as much as you could in his embrace, "Mhm... G'night, baby."

"Good night, love."

[unedited]

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ lovely chqnverse #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan fluff #bangchan fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

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chelseeebe · 11 months

Text

promise.

eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?

a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending

title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two

read part two here.

18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

eddie is positively wrecked.

who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?

graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.

he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.

on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.

‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.

‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.

‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.

truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.

‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.

eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.

you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’

it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.

he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.

‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.

he really needs to get a grip.

‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.

‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.

‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.

‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.

‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’

eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.

‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.

‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.

the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.

‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.

‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.

the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.

‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.

‘what?’

‘i hate this song.’

your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.

his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.

‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.

your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.

but he knows.

there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.

he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.

ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.

only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.

he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.

‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.

you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.

you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.

‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.

you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’

‘clumsy?’

you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.

you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.

‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.

you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.

even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.

‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.

‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.

he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.

there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.

‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.

‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.

‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.

you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.

it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.

perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.

understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.

so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.

he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.

‘what the hell happened?’

you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.

he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.

it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.

‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.

your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.

‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.

so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.

it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.

‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.

you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

‘you want a drink? beer?’

your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.

he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.

that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.

at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.

everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.

it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.

‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.

‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.

‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.

‘just thinking.’

‘about?’

you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.

‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.

‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.

‘mhm.’

‘what about me?’

you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.

‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.

‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.

you nod, ‘can i?’

there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.

‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.

your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.

this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.

it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.

the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.

‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.

eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.

but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.

‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.

‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.

the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.

it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.

bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.

‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.

he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.

he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.

he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.

‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.

it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.

a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.

he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.

‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.

‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.

‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.

the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.

sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.

hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.

his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.

‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.

your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.

your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.

you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.

he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.

every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.

‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.

images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.

he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.

‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.

eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.

he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.

it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.

before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.

in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.

‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.

if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.

‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.

you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.

eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.

you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.

at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.

maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.

the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.

he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.

eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.

judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.

‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.

eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.

you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.

he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.

his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.

a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’

eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.

because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you #eddie munson x female reader smut

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sunlightmurdock · 5 months

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the thought of mutual masturbation with bradley (specifically firefighter) has plagued my mind all day long thanks to ur poll this morning 😭😭😭

can you imagine though? the days he gets home from a shift and he’s just soooo exhausted because he’s been up for almost three days straight so he just crawls right into bed beside you. you’re just so soft and his hands are all over you, but he’s barely able to keep his eyes open

you know, though, that he struggles to switch off after long shifts sometimes. after ten minutes in bed, he’s still stuck awake and hard as a rock as his hands smooth over your skin.

so you just wriggle away from him a little and he watches you with a confused frown as you dip your hand into your underwear. Just watching the confused knots work their way out of his face as he relaxes with the realisation of what you’re doing. he just lays there and watches you for a minute or two, silent until you take in that first sharp breath and squirm a little at the feeling.

as much as he loves getting you off and is good at it, it’s much less complex to get himself off and you know that. He can just switch his brain off and watch you while he finally starts to touch himself

There’s lots of lazy kisses with lots of tongue too. Bradley definitely edges himself a little too, slowing down or stopping entirely because he’s so caught up on the idea of wanting to finish with you.

He barely gets out of bed to grab a tissue and clean himself up before he’s pulling you into his arms, crushing you a lil but it’s okay, and promptly passing out into the best sleep he’s ever had

#firefighter!bradley #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader

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jadedxhearts · 4 months

Text

𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝

Law and you have spent far too much time apart, intimately. When you think you’re going to lose your mind from desperation, he finally gives in, a certain “cure” in mind to treat you.

Originally posted in Oct 8 2023

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills! (this one might be slighter better?)

It was difficult to not notice the various things that had set off certain alarms in your mind. Not to say those alarms were concerning nor bad in nature, no.

It started during a routine check up, about two weeks ago. You were sat in a chair in the operation room aboard the Polar Tang, allowing Law to do whatever he needed to check your general health. He’d taken your temperature, other vitals, the basics. But it was when he’d began feeling around your neck, presumably for your lymph nodes, that a shudder went down your spine.

For one short moment, his hand had wrapped around your neck as though he was possessively holding onto you, much like he did during… other times. Law had been so busy these days, constantly working hard to make sure his submarine was being run correctly and efficiently. He tended to be this way, always, but as of lately, things seemed more hectic on the ship. You really couldn’t come up with an answer why, though.

However, these long working hours for your lover meant that he generally didn’t have much time to spare. Especially not for things such as sex. Your body longed for him, your fingers proving to not be enough. You’d tried to be cool about it, using body language and longing looks to try and get your message across. But Law either seemed too tired, or downright uninterested. You could tell by his mannerisms, though, especially during the checkup, that he longed for you too.

So when his hand had just barely wrapped around your neck, leaving you gasping for air as if he’d choked you, all feelings went straight down between your legs, your heart pounding as you became too excited too quickly. But your routine checkup wasn’t over, and Law had already moved on from his ‘accident’.

But then another thing happened not even five minutes later. His gloved hands kept grazing your body, touch lingering for much longer than it should have. Again and again, these things kept happening, turning you on even more; making you more desperate for the doctor’s touch.

You’d tried to initiate that evening, but Law was exhausted, barely making an effort to kick off his boots and change into pajama pants before he’d promptly collapsed into bed.

And now here you were, two entire weeks later, still having gone unsatisfied. You honestly struggled, having to go about your day as normal, meanwhile your brain remained filled with images of Law doing certain things to you. His tattooed chest glistening as he hovered over you, shoving your body down into the pillows as he filled you up so deliciously, among other images of past times with him. God, you needed him so badly.

You were curled up in bed, hugging a pillow tightly as you tried to fall asleep, trying to not lose your sanity as you pushed away any lewd thoughts about Law. It was so, so difficult, though. The pillow was slipping down between your legs as you clung to it, the plushness of it brushing against where you yearned for Law most. Eventually, it was in a spot where you could rub yourself against it, if you so wished. The thought seemed so dirty, and you couldn’t help but hope Law would walk into the bedroom and catch you as you began to move your hips, biting your lip harshly as you slowly humped the pillow.

But then you were interrupted, practically throwing the pillow away from yourself as the den-den-mushi on your nightstand began to ring. Calming yourself down, you answered it with a click, only to be surprised as Law’s voice came through.

“Y/n? You awake?” He asked, voice sounding… off. You couldn’t quite figure it out, though.

“Yes,” you choked out, feeling your heart hammering in your chest as you breathed heavily. Maybe he’d hear how desperate you were and come back to bed.

“Meet me in the operation room,” he instructed, and you now noticed how seductively he spoke. It made your cunt throb, and you obliged happily, already leaping out of the bed.

You hadn’t even responded to him. You’d honestly forgotten to through your excitement, rushing out of your bedroom to sprint over to the operation room. After all, there could only be one reason why Law was in there, demanding you to meet him there at this hour.

Opening the doors to the large room, you discovered Law leaning against the table, arms folded in front of his chest as he smirked down at you. The tall man wore his doctor's coat over a tank top and his usual jeans. The other key differences were that his hat was removed, sitting on a counter nearby where he stood. And the other two things being that he had on gloves, as well as the fact that there was a not so hidden bulging in his jeans. He looked painfully hard, even through the constricting fabric.

Hands folded in front of you, you quickly moved to stand in front of him, innocently looking up at your lover. “You wanted me, Law?” You asked, voice ever so slightly pitched up to add a sense of cuteness, with an underlying sultriness to it.

He chuckled, using one gloved finger to tilt your chin up toward him, face inching closer to yours. “Figured you needed a ‘check up’, hm?”

“B-but, I just had one two weeks ago,” you feigned innocence, pretending to be unaware of his antics. Though it was evident that both of you knew what game was being played here.

“I think you need a different kind, though,” Law hummed, firmly kissing you for just a second, before biting down onto your lips. “I want you undressed and up on the table, understood?”

With a sweet giggle, you nodded and eagerly began stripping yourself of your clothing. Once you were down to your panties, you angled your head to face Law, licking your lips as you slowly slid the thin fabric down your legs. Though, before they could even reach under your ass, you felt his hands on you, lifting you up to sit on the operation table. And while he’d quickly gotten you up on it, Law then went at an agonizingly slow pace, carefully pulling your panties down your legs, eyes never leaving yours for a second as they slipped off your feet, now bunched up in his hands.

He didn’t say a word to you. Law simply examined your panties, more than likely noticing the wet spot in them. He smirked, looking between you and the delicate lace for a second, all before setting them down on the counter behind him.

Then, Law returned to you, placing both hands on either side of you, leaning dangerously close to your nude body. His gray eyes looked you up and down, noticeably stopping to stare at your full breasts. Then back up to your face, where he seemingly lingered on your lips.

“By simply observing you, I cannot say whether or not you are… sufficient.”

“Sufficient?” You raised an eyebrow, echoing Law’s words.

“In satisfaction,” he explained, before continuing on with the act. “Tell me, Y/n. Do you have any symptoms?”

You slowly nodded, bashfully looking away. “Um… yes, I have this ache. It’s soo painful, like I’m throbbing and need something.”

“Where is the ache?” Law asked, sounding as bored as ever. Perhaps he was more desperate than he’d assumed, and was growing tired of the act?

With that thought in mind, you widen your legs, revealing your wet pussy to him. Taking his right hand in yours, you bring Law’s fingers to the supposed ache, gently pushing the gloved finger tips into your folds with a whine.

“I see,” he hummed. “And I know of the treatment you need.”

“You do?” You bit your lip, deciding you were also growing far too desperate to keep up the act. You needed him. Now.

“Yeah,” he deadpanned, face moving beside yours as he whispered, “you need my fucking cock in you, that’s what.”

His hushed voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your spine.

“Please, Law,” you whined, grabbing onto him. “Make me feel good, please doctor!”

Law reacted quickly, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, swiftly pulling out his hard length. He was probably aching just as much as you were. With a low chuckle, he pulled you closer to him, using one hand to rub his cock’s tip against your wet folds, the other hand landing on the side of your face as he brought your lips together, kissing you with such desperate fever.

“Fuck, Law, please,” you moaned, dragging out your words to show more desperation. “Please fuck me, baby.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, as he fully inserted his length in you, filling you to the brim as his pulsating cock squeezed inside of your velvety walls.

You both moaned, the lewd noises spilling into each other’s mouths as you swallowed them up. Fuck, he felt so good in you. The stretch was delicious, you thought, as you clamped down on him. There was no way you were lasting long tonight.

Law hissed as you cunt squeezed his cock, trapping him within you. “F-fuck, Y/n,” he choked out, “quit clenching on me like that, I’m gonna cum if you keep it up.”

You whined, trying to relax the muscles within your cunt. And after another moment of sitting like that, Law finally pulled his hips backwards, quickly snapping them forward with force, ripping loud moans from your throat.

He pounded into you, creating the nastiest wet noises you’d ever heard your pussy produce, combined with the sound of his skin slapping against yours.. You were glad the operation room walls were thick, as you had a feeling all the combined sounds would wake your resting crewmates otherwise.

Your fingernails dug into the fabric of Law’s coat, gripping him as your whole body trembled from the sensations. He held you tightly, hovering over you as you laid back on the table now, legs in the air. If somebody were to walk in, there was no doubt about what you and Law were doing.

Before long, you were screaming his name, cunt slick with your juices as you felt the tight knot within you about to burst. You were a moaning, desperate mess, ready to succumb to everything Law was doing to you. And it seemed he wasn’t far behind, as his thrusts became sloppy and inconsistent, heavy pants falling from his open mouth.

“Law, fuck, fuck, please cum in me,” you half whined, half begged.

“Already planned on it,” he grunted, snapping his hips against yours harshly, “you need your medicine, after all, hm?”

A whimper escaped you, and you felt your body let go as you began to cum around his cock. Law urged you on, praising you for being such a good girl, saying you needed just a little bit more of his cock.

But, mid-way through his taunting, Law gasped, shoving his head down and between your breasts as his body seemingly locked up, his thrusts stopping while he was fully inside you. Cum spilled from him, filling up your spent pussy. You moaned from the sensations of the hot seed stuffing you, a hand flying to hold onto Law, gripping at his messy black hair.

As you both calmed down, you put a gentler hold on Law’s hair, using both hands to hold his head as you played with the raven locks. He panted against you, hot breaths landing on the skin of your chest. Eventually, he pulled his upper body away, looking down at you before placing a kiss on your wet lips.

“So… am I cured, doctor?”

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x reader smut #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x fem reader #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law x reader smut #law x afab reader #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law x y/n

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 4 months

Text

the albatross ii - matt murdock

a/n: my first part two! i really love odd reader shes my favorite person ever. uh i don't really have much else to add i just love their dynamic. sorry the beginning is kind of bad im trying to figure out how much i want to delve into readers past like that. also im going to start a taglist for this so let me know if you wanna be included :)) warnings: cursing, drinking, lots of talk of death, reader has a lot of insecurities, reader has boobs my bad, oh! like a very brief mention that reader has sexual trauma, and lots of talk of sex though nothing happens-- word count: 5.2k summary: if there's a stunning woman with questionable character in the room, matt murdock is going to find her, and foggy nelson is going to suffer. pairing: matt murdock x winter soldier!reader the albatross series : i // ii now playing: the albatross - taylor swift "i'm the albatross/i swept in at the rescue/the devil that you know/looks now more like an angel/i'm the life you chose/and all this terrible danger"

September 19th, 1972

When you wake up, you’re freezing and out of breath. The initial moments after those long-term freezes were always frightening. You do not know how long it has been since you were taken, and part of you wonders if you ever will. You’re only ever conscious here, surrounded by generals and guards.

As soon as you wake up, a muzzle is clamped over your mouth. You’re a screamer, or at least you used to be. But now the muzzle is put on as a reminder that you are truly trapped and have no autonomy.

Someone will come in soon to say a list of words that will snap you out of your brain—Maybe snap is the wrong word. You will be locked out of your brain, conscious enough to know what you are doing but not at all in control.

You’re sitting in this big metal chair that might have scared you all those years ago, your arms strapped to the arms of the chair. The dimness of the room almost makes you scared as if you are a six-year-old who is afraid of the dark.

A gruff looking man walks into the room, and behind him, you can see some soldiers dragging along an exhausted man, whose hair is long, but your eyes are drawn to him. Are there.. are there other people who are in the same situation as you?

In the back of your mind, a foreign emotion sparks, something that you cannot name at first, but then you find it— hope. Maybe hope is a strong word, maybe what you should be feeling is dread, that the things you are being forced into are happening to some other poor soul. You almost want to throw up when you realize it, but like everything else in your exhausting existence, you are ripped out of your thought by commanding forces around you. The man in front of you follows your eyeline to see you watching the man, and you think you see him grimace.

You have found something that was meant to always be a secret from you. You recall a foggy memory that isolation is the key to abuse.

The man nods towards you, and suddenly, you feel a violent shock go through your body as the man wills you to forget the small detail that you will hang on to for as long as humanly possible.

When a second jab of shockwaves hits you, you black out for a few seconds, only—

• • •

You sit up in bed, gasping or air as you try to orient yourself. Your hands come up to push sweaty hair out of your face, and you grip it tight to try and ground yourself. Your heart is racing as you take deep breaths in your nose and out of your mouth, not wanting to spiral into a panic attack.

You get up from bed to go shower, before changing your now drenched in sweat sheets, and it’s only then do you turn on your light and grab the book you’ve been reading.

You sit on the floor next to your bed, feeling disgusting and upset. You try to read, but you are rereading the same paragraph repeatedly. After twenty minutes of that, you grab your flip phone off the bedside table and dial Matt’s number.

You know it’s four in the morning. He’s asleep. He has to be up for work in the morning, but you cannot help it. You have been seeing the handsome stranger for a little under a month, and he has become your drug.

But there’s a couple of things.

First, you are still lying to him. He has no idea about your time as who is known in government circles as “The Midnight Agent”, and he has no idea that you will never be able to give him the life he deserves. Hell, you haven’t even spent the night with him, your relationship has been the definition of taking it slow.

Which leads to this: You have not slept with the man.

Back in 1945, you were surrounded by purity culture. Sure, you could have had a handsome soldier in your bed, but there was a part of you that always felt guilty when you looked to your large catholic family who were always insistent on saving yourself for marriage.

But you recall the memories of your time trapped, of guards who went unchecked and memories of men who took advantage of the fact that you were brainwashed, and how you might freakout if Matt’s hands wander too far..

And you recall Matt’s comment on your first date, about how he thought a long time to go without a date was a few months.

He picks up the phone before your thoughts can spiral any further.

“Hey, baby. You okay?” His voice is thick with sleep, and you feel a pang of guilt for waking him up. But you also melt at the simple pet name, not quite used to it yet.

“Hi.. I’m sorry I woke you up..”

“No, no, it’s okay.” He lies, “You didn’t..”

“Liar.”

“Okay, you got me.” He chuckles softly, “But seriously, it’s okay. What’s up?” He asks, and you let out this sigh. What to tell him, what not to tell him..

“Can’t sleep.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “Wanted to hear your voice. I tried to read The Outsiders, but I couldn’t focus.” You cannot seem to do anything right..

“Okay.” He says gently, “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“..Not really..”

“Okay, that’s fine.”

“Sorry..”

“Why are you apologizing?”

You pause. It’s a good question.

“I dunno..” And then after a few moments you ask, “Matt?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is it okay that we haven’t had sex yet?” The question eats at you. You recall Matt’s assumption that a ‘while’ since your last date had meant a few months. You’re worried that you’re not satisfying him and that he’ll get bored. Bored of you, bored of your quirks and oddities, bored of all of it.

And you don’t know when you’ll be okay to have sex with him, or if you’ll even be able to make it all the way through when you get to that point. And it’s eating you up— You could at least be good at something if you insist on being odd and bizarre throughout this whole relationship.

“Of course it’s okay,” He promised, “Why wouldn’t that be okay?” Sure, Matthew had his fair share of partners in the day, but this was different— You weren’t just a date to him, you were fascinating. If he hadn’t been such a realist, he might have accused you of being a time traveler.

And sure, sometimes he thought about you, about being buried between your thighs, about making you shake and cry with pleasure, and about how well he could fill you up..

But those lewd thoughts always take a backseat to how utterly interesting you are— Your odd taste in ice cream, odd movie and book tastes, the way you speak, some of the things you say..

“Because you’re hot,” you blurt out and then sigh. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you’re so fucking handsome and I can’t even..” The words die out in your mouth, as you curl up into yourself on your floor, holding the phone pressed tightly against your ear.

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need to sleep with you to know that I care about you.” He promises. “Do you want me to come over? Maybe you’ll sleep better if we’re together.” He says softly.

You hesitate, looking around your apartment. If you had a nightmare, he’d question what happened.. But on the other hand, you were fucking exhausted, and maybe Handsome Matthew would be the trick to you getting some sleep.

“Sure.. but uh.. My apartment’s super messy..” You confess, and he just chuckles.

“Somehow I don’t think that’ll bother me.” He teases, and you laugh.

“Right, Right.. Sorry..” You say. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“See you soon.” He promises, and as soon as he hangs up, you immediately get up and start shuffling around to clean your apartment.

You do the dishes, you throw all your dirty clothes in the hamper, you make your bed with pristine edge and of course.. You grab the gun you keep under your pillow and stuff it right next to your vibrator next to your fuzzy socks.

You’re finally finishing up with your minor chores when you hear a knock at the door. You open it and have to take a beat to catch your breath since Matthew looks especially good with his grey sweatpants and black sweatshirt.

He grins at you, leaning into greet you with a kiss as he steps into the apartment.

“So, this is where the magic happens, huh?” He asks, and you smile bashfully.

“Something like that.” You shrug, letting him lead you through the apartment. His cane tip-taps against the floor, and your hands come up to rub your arms. It is your apartment, and yet, you feel absolutely exposed. “Uh, just… Keep going straight and the bedroom is on the right. Do you need anything?” You ask, unsure if he has some weird hypervigilant bedtime routine at.. you know.. Four in the morning.

His cane shifts hands and he holds his free hand out behind him, for you to take.

“Just you.” Your face flushes as you take his hand,

“You’re such a flirt.” And he laughs.

“How can I help myself when I’m in a pretty girl’s place?” he asks, and you go to answer but he leans against the wall right next to the doorframe, dropping his duffle bag and cane in favor of pulling you close, your chest against his. Your breath catches and he smirks as if he can see your flustered nature.

“You’re a decent young man,” you start, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s rude to grab people?”

“No, the nuns never mentioned that.” He does that adorable half chuckle before tilting his head. “Why? Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?”

Your face flushes.

“Everything makes me nervous, Matthew, you know that.” You accuse and he laughs again, nodding.

“Yeah, maybe I do know that. Seems familiar.” He hums, his grip on you loosening a bit. He presses another kiss to your lips. “Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart.” You don’t protest, simply grabbing his hand and pulling him along to bed. He’s more than happy to follow you through.

You find yourself laying in the bed, and he’s standing to the side as if he’s staring at you. You raise an eyebrow to him.

“What? What is it?” You ask, and he quickly moves, jumping on top of you. You laugh a bit to hide your nerves, and he grins. He leans down and presses a long kiss to your lips before whispering,

“If we never have sex, I’ll still stay with you forever.” He says gently, and your face is deeply flushed.

“Forever?” You ask gently. He nods, leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips.

“As long as you’ll have me.” He says gently, and then, he rolls over and lays next to you. His hand finds yours and he laces his fingers with yours. You look at him for a long time, just holding his hand. “What is it?” he asks softly, glancing over to you.

“I just..” you laugh a bit. “I’ve never had a boy in my bed before.” You confess, and he laughs, his arms wrapping around you.

“You’re so odd.” He says softly, his hands finding your hair to play with it gently. “I love it.”

• • •

And this is how you spend your early morning. You sleep soundly in the arms of the one who loves you, something you have never had the privilege of before.

You slip out of bed rather early considering that you don’t have work today. But you can’t help yourself, you find yourself making breakfast for Matt. Pancakes, sausage, and coffee, just for him. At some point, he calls out to you,

“Hey, babe, where’s the shower?” And it’s rather domestic, in a way that makes you both uncomfortable and giddy. At the same time. Weird.

“Uh, right across the hall from the bedroom,” you tell him. And after about twenty minutes, Matt comes out to the kitchen. He’s dressed for work, but his tie is undone, sitting on his neck. His jacket hangs over his arms, and for a minute, you are just as you were always meant to be—

A young woman, in love with a man who has a good career, who loves you and is kind, whom you cook breakfast for and anxiously wait for him to get home.

And before you can stop yourself, you walk on over to him and begin to fix his tie, and he tilts his head.

“Where’d you learn to tie a tie on someone else?” he asks curiously. Your brain flashes to the soldiers who were never taught to tie a tie, so you learned, making sure to help them make sure their uniforms were in pristine condition.

But better than telling your boyfriend about that, you settle on a different truth.

“Needed to tie my brother’s tie a lot before work.” You settle on, and he smiles. That was the first time you had mentioned any of your family, so he just nods.

“What was his name?” ‘Was’ is a cruel but accurate detail.

“Anthony.” You tell him, finishing your work on his tie. Then, you press a kiss to his cheek. “Ready for breakfast?” He smiles and nods, as you direct him towards your table.

Yes, even though you ate mac and cheese while sitting on the floor when you first met him, you do own a table.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and sausage. Oh, and Coffee,” You tell him. You serve breakfast and sit across from him, placing a jar of jam on the table as well as syrup. When you pop the lid off the jam, Matt tilts his head.

“Why do I smell strawberry jam?” He questions, and you just raise an eyebrow.

“For my pancakes?”

He begins to laugh.

“This is what I mean when I say you’re odd. The only other person I know who’d do that is my dad, who learnt it from my grandparents.” He tells you. You shrug.

“I grew up with jam. Syrup’s too sweet.”

“Of course you did.” He smirks, taking a bite of his breakfast.

• • •

After Matt leaves for work (After breakfast, a make out session and then ten minutes with you fixing his disheveled look), you begin to actually clean your apartment. But your apartment is only so big, so by lunchtime, you’re bored again.

So, you start cooking and making these chicken ceaser wraps and french fries, before hopping in the shower. You’ve never dated anyone who you’ve felt the need to make and bring lunch to, but there is a first time for everything.

When you get to his office, you take a while to notice and observe every little thing about the walk. When you get to the front door, your hands run over the sign that reads ‘Nelson, Murdock & Page.’ And then you remember that in going up these stairs, you’ll meet his two best friends, and your stomach flips at the idea of it.

But your fingers twitch at the idea of seeing Handsome Matthew again. You’re incredibly down bad for the man you refuse to sleep with, so you push open the door, making your way to the office. When you step inside, you’re faced with a blonde man holding a cup of coffee, talking to a different, more blonde, woman who eats her lunch.

Maybe you have the wrong office.

“Hi— Uh, I’m looking for Matt.” The words tumble out of your lips, and you wish you could say something more.

“Yeah, he’s in his office, I can grab him for you.” The man says kindly, and steps towards the only office door that’s closed. You nod and stand awkwardly. This is weird, you know that. You are a stranger in this office holding a big lunch box.

Matt steps out of his office and smiles in your direction. Immediately, you relax. There he goes, Handsome Matthew completely messing up your thought patterns and making you go against everything you ever thought you’d do.

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

“Hey.” You smile, and you see a moment of recognition on the faces of his coworkers.

“Oh, you’re the girl—” The man starts, and then it clicks that these people must be his best friends.

“And you’re Foggy and Karen.” You smile, sticking a handout for them to shake, and they do. You introduce yourself, and they do the same. It’s not as awkward as you would’ve thought, but you’re making it so much worse in your head.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks, and you redirect your attention to him.

“Uh, I made lunch. I thought I’d bring it to you.” He smiles at this.

“Thank you. Here, let’s uh, eat in my office.” He takes your hand, and you tell Foggy and Karen that it was nice to meet them, as he closes the door behind him. You sit down in one of his chairs.

“Sorry for just barging in on you guys. I probably should have called first.” You decide, but he shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine.” He smiles, sitting down in his own chair as you unpack lunch. You’re seriously not used to any of this, so it’s as if you’re taking foreign steps.

The two of you make pleasant conversations before Matt asks you,

“Hey, do you want to come to the bar tonight?” He asks, “We have a usual spot we go to. I thought it might be a good way for you to get to know my friends.” He hums.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude...”

You also don’t really want to get drunk around Matt, afraid of what you might say. But he answers,

“Don’t worry, Foggy’s wife is going and so is Karen’s boyfriend.” You notice the shift in Matt’s body language.

“You don’t like Karen’s boyfriend.” You immediately recognize.

“What? No—“ He chuckles, “It’s just a complicated history..” The part of you that never grew up, that wants to dive head first into drama, the part of you that is still twenty something, clutching the arm of your sister as she spills about all the people she doesn’t like gets to your mouth before you can stop it,

“What do you mean, ‘complicated’?” You ask, and he just laughs a little.

“Really, sweetheart, it’s not—”

“Let’s make a deal,” You say, “In exchange for me bringing you a delicious lunch,” You start, “And for telling you something about my messy past, you have to tell me about that complicated history.”

“Deal.”

“Okay, than spill.”

“You remember a few years back, the uh, Punisher?” He asks, and you tilt your head. No, you don’t. It was probably before you were allowed to have autonomy and live on your own.

“Uh.. No.”

“What? It was all over the news.”

“I wasn’t living in New York until a few years ago.” Not untrue, you were living in the middle of Europe until recently.

“Oh, right.” He nods, “Well, he killed a lot of people he thought deserved it, and, as someone who has great respect for human life, I don’t know, I just can’t imagine dating someone with a kill count at all, let alone over thirty people.” He sighs, “But Karen sees something in him, I guess.”

A shiver runs down your spine. You realize that you can’t ever tell Matt about what had happened to you. He wouldn’t understand, he’d see you as a monster. Well, you are a monster, but you cannot ever tell him that! Is this a mistake? Are you supposed to break up with him now not to hurt him?

“Yeah, I can understand that.” You take another bite of your wrap.

“I believe I’m owed some of your messy history.”

“Right,” you nod, “Well, Before I moved here, I was living in Europe.” You tell him.

“Really? Where in Europe?”

“Here and there.” You shrug. “I just sort of went wherever I was needed.” You explain, again—Not a lie. Definitely not a lie. You were ordered around and told to go here and there.

“What did you do there?” He asks.

“It’s all kind of a blur,” You’re really being truthful now.

“Has anyone ever told you how weird and odd you are?” He acts, voice full of affection.

“You. Last night.” You grin, and he just grins back.

“Right. I really have a way with words, huh?”

“Yup. You’re a real charmer.”

“I meant it though.”

“Which part? The part where you called me strange?”

“The part where I asked you to come out to the bar with us tonight—And the part where I told you I’d stay with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes you’ll come to the bar with us or you’ll let me stay with you for a while?”

You get up, circle around his desk, before placing your hand on his jaw, tilting his head up to you. Your other hand comes up to take his glasses off. For a minute, you just admire him, before pushing the hair from his face. Then, you lean in to press a kiss to his lips.

When you pull away, his lips try to follow yours, but your thumb just gently wipes away your lipstick stains from his lips.

“Yes.” You repeat, and he just grins.

He absolutely adores you.

• • •

You make sure to fix your hair before you leave your apartment, and then, you find yourself leaning on the brick wall outside of the bar. Your heart is racing, and although you do not smoke, god you need a cigarette.

Your foot taps anxiously against the pavement.

This will be fine, you tell yourself. Matt likes you, surely you can get the others to do the same. Or at least, you can try your damn best, and not just sit out here like a bitch.

Your head glances over to the door as a rather tall and gruff man approaches the door. He sees you staring at him, and opens the door before asking,

“You coming in, kid?”

Kid.

You’re a hundred years old, but okay.

“Uh, yeah.” You answer, before heading into the bar, “Thanks,” He just nods back at you. You walk in and look around for Matt and his friends. You immediately soften when you see him. Of course you can do this.

As you make your way over to them, the man who opened the door for you also heads over to them. You tilt your head as you get to your boyfriend and his friends before Karen comes over to you guys, sends you a smile, before greeting the man with a kiss. Oh. This is the boyfriend that Matt doesn’t like.

Matt greets you with a kiss, before Karen asks,

“What are you drinking?” You realize she’s asking you. What do you drink?

“Uh, whatever. I kind of like everything,” You smile weakly, before shrugging. She just nods, and then her and her boyfriend head over to the bar. You glance over to Matt, and smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles and kisses you again. “I’m glad you decided to join us.”

“Well, I did say yes earlier.”

“Yeah but you were being very vague and odd.”

“You said you liked that!”

“Shhh,” and then he kisses you again.

“You two are gross.” His friend, Foggy, says, and his wife just swats his arm.

“Sorry,” You smile, and then Frank and Karen are back at the table, and this large bottle of whiskey is placed on the table, and six glasses are placed along side it.

“Woah, big bottle.” Foggy whistles, and Karen shrugs.

“Long week. Lots of whiskey required.” Matt leans over to you and says,

“You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to—”

“I said I like everything,” You told him, “And I meant it.” You remind and the people around you laugh, so it definitely gratifies your desire to please them.

“See, this is the type of energy you needed in a date,” Foggy grins, and Karen laughs as she pours the whiskey for you all.

“I agree, I like her a lot more than I liked the last one.”

“Flattered, I love when people talk about me like I’m not here,” You tell them, as you take a long drink of your whiskey.

“You are odd,” Foggy says, and again, his wife swats his arm.

“Franklin, you cannot say that to someone you just met!”

“I was just joking, really it’s fine,” You assure, and take another sip of your drink. Then another drink. Your eyes get a glint of dog tags hanging around Frank’s neck. You nod to him. “Military?” Everyone’s head snaps to look at you, and then to him.

“Marines.” He answers, and he waits.

“I was a nurse overseas for a while.” And you almost slap your hands over your mouth, horrified at the words that just left your lips. Everyone looks at you, very confused, including sweet Handsome Matthew.

“Wait, you were in the army as a medic?” He asks, and you just nod.

“Yeah, I don’t.. really like talking about it..” You sigh, “It was a long time ago.. Before I was in Europe doing whatever, I was in Europe being a nurse.”

“Europe? There hasn’t been active combat in Europe since the 40’s,” Frank says, and you shrug.

“That’s where they had me. It’s where I learned to drink.” You finish your drink and go to refill it, “You’d be surprised how many young cadets try to assert their dominance over drinking games.” You laugh fondly at the memory.

Matt leans in to kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Odd.”

• • •

You and Frank get into your own form of a drinking game as the night goes on. After two glasses, Foggy and his wife stop drinking, something about brunch with her parents in the morning.

Matt stops drinking after three, and Karen after four.

But here you and Frank are, swapping war stories like old army buddies as you make your way through the bottle. Five, six, seven.. You can’t remember by the time the bottle is empty. All you know is you’re leaning against Matt, and Frank is holding Karen close, and you are happy.

You don’t feel hidden anymore.

When the bottle is done, Matt’s fingers run up and down your arm.

“We gotta get you home, honey.”

“You need to kiss me.” You blurt, too drunk to know what you’re saying.

“What?” He grins.

“Kiss me. I want you all over me,” and you lean over to kiss him, and after a few moments, he pulls away from the kiss.

“Alright, but let’s get you home first.” And then you nod, because that’s a good idea. You don’t want Frank and Karen to see all the vicious things you want to do to Handsome Matthew. He helps you up and wraps his jacket around your arms, before glancing back to his friends. “Have a good night guys. See you Monday.”

You take a minute, before smiling at his friends.

“Thanks for having me. I had fun.” You cannot remember the last time you had this much fun. “Sorry I’m so fucking odd,” You start giggling, “But I had fun.” Everyone else, too tipsy and drunk to say much else, just laughs and sends you on your way.

You and Matt stumble home, as you mumble soft things about how much you like him, how pretty he is.

When you get back to your apartment, he locks the door behind you and helps you to your bedroom. Once there, you begin to kiss him.

“Sweetheart,” He mumbles into your lips, “Wait,” He pulls away and smiles at you. “Pajamas first.” He requests, and you nod.

“Yeah. Great Idea.” You mumble, going over to your drawers (Not the one with your vibrator, socks and gun) and pull out an old tee shirt and shorts. You begin stripping down, and you stop and glance to Matt, in just your shorts and bra, before asking, “Wait, how do I know you’re not staring at me?”

He almost laughs at how drunk you are.

“Honey,” he begins softly, and then taps the space between his eyes. Then you laugh, feeling silly.

“Oh.” You unclip your bra and slip on your tee shirt. You sit on the bed, and then lay down. You sigh deeply, your bed surprisingly comfortable after all of those drinks. You watch as Matt begins to strip down. “Handsome.” You mumble, and he laughs.

You fall asleep as he kicks his pants off before crawling into bed with you.

• • •

You wake up at some god-awful hour, maybe around two in the morning. You run over to the bathroom and vomit into the toilet. After a while of throwing up, you wander on over to the kitchen.

You take a big, long drink of water, before sighing deeply.

Your stomach growls. You find a loaf of sourdough bread you had brought home from work yesterday and begin to butter a few slices. You munch on your food, and remember Matthew in your bedroom.

Your Matthew.

You finish your snack, and then find yourself sitting on the floor of your kitchen. Just like you did the first night. Your lean your head back against the cabinet. You think about your boyfriend, and you think about everyone you lost.

In your half drunk state, You only smile when Matt sits next to you on the floor.

“What’re we doing on the floor, baby?” He asks softly.

“Just.. Sleepy..” You mumble, and then a grin spreads across your face. “I’m thinking about my best friend.”

“Your best friend?”

“Taylor.” You say softly, “She was my best friend.”

“And where is she now?” He asked, leaning over to brush your hair out of your face.

“Oh, she died ten years ago.” You say, and then laugh as if it’s funny. “Natural causes.” You shrug. She had died of old age.. And you weren’t there for her. Your best friend..

Matt’s arm is around you in an instant.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He says gently, and leans in to kiss your head.

“And you..” You glance over to him. “You.. I don’t even know what to do with you.” You laugh, and he frowns.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I..” You sigh. “I mean that no one’s ever made me feel like you have..” You mumble, and then you admire him, only in his boxer briefs. “I love you, Handsome Matthew. And I don’t know what to do about it..” You mumble.

Matt just leans in to kiss your head again.

“If I said I love you too, would that help?”

“It would be a start..”

“I love you.”

“Even though I’m odd?” You ask, “Weird and bizarre? Off my rocker, completely out of my fucking mind..?”

“Especially because you’re odd.”

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

taglist: @writtenbyred , @indestructeible

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #winter soldier!reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #reader is so weird #odd!reader #netflix daredevil

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innorogers · 13 days

Text

Insomnia

Steve Rogers x OFC (You)

Summary: You couldn't sleep, and Steve neither. So you want to help him with a bedtime story. And he wants you forever.

To say you couldn't sleep is an understatement. You quite literally couldn't even close your eyes for the past few nights.

It's not something you can control; your brain just works like this: challenges at work are the adrenaline that rushes to your mind, and it just won't calm down.

So, a 13-hour shift wasn't enough to tire you out; insomnia hit so hard that you decided to head down to the training room to try to drain all your energy.

As you made your way down the stairs, you could hear the distant thudding of fists against a punching bag.

Upon pushing the door slowly open, you weren't surprised to be met with Steve...without punching gloves.

God, you felt for those knuckles. How can this man be so careless with himself? Not that you have any say in that, of course.

You nodded as he turned around, surprised to see anyone at this hour.

"Cap," you said respectfully, with a tiny voice, looking at the floor as if there's anything wonderful there.

Steve walked over, sweat glistening across his forehead and cheeks, his shirt clinging to his now drenched chest.

"Oh, hi..." He smiled upon seeing you, grabbing a towel from the bench and wiping the sweat from his face. "It's late, what are you doing here?"

"Um..." You didn't think he would talk with this familiarity, but you smiled back. "I couldn't sleep, um...so I just thought I'd try to train myself."

"Ah...insomnia, right?" Steve chuckled slightly, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a few swigs. "I used to suffer with it quite badly too. I used to go to bed and just...stare at the ceiling all night."

"Oh my god." Your reaction was real. "That sounds...terrible."

Steve nodded and slumped down on the bench, leaning back as he took another sip of water. "It is...the only way I got around it was to exhaust myself before bed, but I'm sure you don't need me telling you that."

That statement struck you a little bit. You couldn't help but feel so bad for him. "Cap...that sounds draining. Have you been like that, since...always?"

Steve nodded once again, his hand running through his hair and pushing it back. "Unfortunately, been like it as long as I can remember. I only recently started trying to control it - the army didn't exactly care much about my sleeping patterns..."

"What?" Now you were horrified. "That's so awful. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's alright," Steve reassured with a small smile, his eyes locking with yours for a moment. "I'm used to it. Plus, the army needed me to be the best I could, even if that meant I had to run on 0 hours of sleep."

"Wait, what? Steve, I meant, Cap...that's, that's not right!"

Steve chuckled softly and looked down at his feet for a moment. "Yeah...yeah, I guess it isn't." He was quiet for a moment before looking back up at you with a small smile. "I appreciate the concern, though."

You felt your cheeks were starting to burn, so you looked down again. "Have you tried any pills?" you asked as you watched yourself reflected in the mirror. Oh, you looked so stupid with your gym gear. What were you even doing with a towel and a bottle of water?

Steve nodded, scratching his temple slightly with his thumb. "I've tried just about everything: pills, sleep therapy, meditation, music, literally everything you could think of to help me sleep. I can maybe get 3 hours of sleep max, but that's if I'm absolutely exhausted."

You looked at him. You couldn't believe it. This man, you saw him in and out every day from this campus. He went out so energized, and came back full of scars and wounds, and he couldn't even get some quality rest.

You couldn't help but approach him, your voice as soft as you ever knew it: "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He paused for a moment, looking at you with a quizzical look for a few seconds before his lips quickened up into a small smile. "I mean...there is one thing I could think of..."

"What?"

"Sit next to me." Steve patted a space on the bench beside him, a small smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "Keep me company."

"Sure."

You didn't even doubt it, and you sat next to him, thinking you were willing to talk for 60 hours in a row if that's what it took to get this man to sleep.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Steve leaned back against the bench, resting his hands on the metal beside him as he tilted his head slightly to look at you. "There's not much to talk about. My mind just...won't switch off."

"Hmm...maybe, a bedtime story?"

Steve laughed incredulously at the idea, the noise coming from his chest filling the silent room. He found it extremely amazing that he hadn't heard his own laughter like that in a long time.

"A bedtime story? Don't you think I'm a little old for that? I think last time I heard one was… 96 years ago?"

"Well..." God, his laugh was just...magical. You smiled back as your heart melted. "You never know, right?"

Steve chuckled softly once more, his head tilting back as he looked up at the ceiling, a smirk on his face. "You know what...sure. I'll take a bedtime story."

"Alright..." You started laughing too, your frenzied brain starting to do its thing: spinning really fast.

"Here I go..."

Steve shifted so he was facing you more, leaning forwards with one elbow on his knee. His face was expectant albeit a little amused, and he wondered what kind of a bedtime story you were going to tell.

"Once upon a time, there was a super soldier..."

Steve raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping his lips at the start of the story. "Alright...a super soldier...continue."

"...Who couldn't sleep, so he ran every night up to the hill and asked a fairy living there: 'Hey, little princess, why can't I sleep?' And the fairy replied: 'Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Is it because the stars are too shiny?' And the soldier looked up at the sky full of stars and shrugged his shoulders: 'Probably...?'"

Steve’s lips formed a soft curve at the beginning of the story, his smile growing with each sentence.

"How do you know this story?"

You winked at him. "I'll tell you that at the end. “

“So...the fairy thinks about it for a second and says: Well, maybe I can help you. And she goes up, up, up in the sky and starts to collect all the stars one by one, but there are so many of them! And she's so anxious because she wants the super soldier to get some sleep before the army calls...you know, those dumbasses..."

Steve's head tilted back once again as he laughed out loud, shaking his head at the ludicrous but somehow lovely story that was being told, and for some unknown reason, it was making him feel slightly relaxed.

"That's a lot of stars, huh?"

"Yup..." you heard your voice, and you noticed your joy in making him happy or bringing a little peace to his mind.

You continued, "So the fairy gets a brilliant idea: 'I'll call every kid on the planet and ask them to wish upon a shiny star, so the stars will fall, and every kid is happy with their wishes granted, and the sky is darkened, and the super soldier gets some sleep.'"

"Every kid? How would they all know to wish upon a star?"

"Because..." You looked at him as if saying, 'duh dude...'

"That's what kids do, didn't you wish upon a star? Ever?"

"Well…I'm not sure I ever did...I…really don’t remember..." He sighed nostalgically.

You looked at him. You wanted to say, "Me neither," but instead, you just responded in a comforting voice, "Well...If you don't sleep tomorrow either, I promise you, I'll go and fetch a star for you."

Steve smiled back at you, your words sending a strange yet warm feeling through his heart.

"You'd go as far as stealing a star for me?"

And your damn brain worked so fast you didn't even think about what you were saying.

"I'll get every star in the universe for you if you'd ask."

Steve's breath hitched in his throat, there was a strange feeling through his stomach and slightly increasing his heart rate.

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at you before he spoke again, his own words surprising him.

"Do you promise...you'd get them all?"

Your heartbeat just stopped at that glance of his, but you nodded.

"Yes, I do."

Steve took another moment to compose himself, a wonderstruck hitted him as he looked you in the eyes. He was searching your face for any hint of sarcasm or lies, but all he could see was what looked like true honesty.

"You make a powerful promise...you sure you can keep it?"

You laughed. "What, you don't believe me?"

At the sound of your laugh, Steve's breath hitched in his throat, the noise stirring something deep within him which he attempted to push down. But it was so strong.

"It's not that...I just don't want you to promise something you can't keep."

"I'll keep it." He probably didn't know it, but you were actually vowing, "Every word of it." You replied in a soft voice.

There it was again, that tickle through Steve's stomach. Butterflies everywhere. They came from the air that he breathed, through his chest, to his entire body.

He smiled at you, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, Steve actually believed someone when they promised him something.

"I'm holding you to that, you know."

You got lost in his eyes. God, there’s an entire ocean in his eyes. You held your tongue before you said that, so you cleared your throat. "I haven't finished my story."

Steve shifted once again to face you, a smile still present on his face. "Continue...tell me the rest of the story."

"So the fairy gets all the stars of the sky to fulfill the kids' wishes, and the sky finally darkens. She goes back to the soldier, but before arriving, she went to heaven and borrowed some feathers from the wings of the most beautiful angel. 'It's for a kid that can't sleep,' she explains to the angel, and with the feathers and her fairy magic, she makes the most comfortable pillow in the world. And only then, she goes back to the soldier and gives him the pillow: 'There, you will have a good sleep, honey.' And so, the soldier finally gets some rest. The end."

Steve listened to the rest of the story intently, that strange feeling in his stomach returning as waves of a tide.

Damn butterflies. Now they even left a trace of golden glitter shiny things.

He wants those butterflies to stop, but he fails, his eyes locking with yours. "You are good...you are a truly excellent storyteller, you know that?"

"I know, right?" You laughed, and also lowered your voice. "But I'll tell you a little secret."

He chuckled as he leaned back against the bench, arms crossed across his chest. As he was trying to hide something, to push back on something. To take distance.

"A secret? I like the sound of that."

"You're my only and first audience."

Steve cocked an eyebrow, his smirk returning and his arms uncrossing. "You mean this is the first time you've even told someone that story?"

"Or any story."

Steve's eyes widened at your words, the smirk on his face growing even more.

"You've never told a story before...like, ever?"

"Ever."

Steve chuckled softly at your response, shaking his head slightly. "You mean to tell me that ever since you were a kid, you've never told another person a story? Not even when you were little?"

You were going to say something, but kept quiet and smiled.

Steve was quiet for a moment before looking at you.

"Most people tell everyone stories...they don't save up a story for years and years and years to tell just one person...just one?"

You blinked at him. "It's only for super soldiers who can't sleep at night, and you are the first one I've met. But...if you happen to know any other super soldier who is also a superhero and also happens to be...you know, Captain America, the greatest avenger of all times...tell him I have a great bedtime story to share with him in case he can't sleep and is training in the tower at this time of the night...otherwise...then yes, you are the only one."

Steve couldn't help but laugh at your response, the sound filling the room once again and that pang through his stomach returning. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he looked at you, a smirk on his face.

"I'll let you know if I see any super soldiers around."

"Tell him that's a hell of a bedtime story."

Steve chuckled again, his smirk growing wider as he gave you a nod. "You think he'll like it?"

"I don't know, what do you think?" you shrugged your shoulders.

Steve paused, his eyes locking with yours and that feeling in his stomach returning once again.

He slowly licked across his lips and was quiet for a moment before answering.

"I think he'll like the story...I think he'll like it a lot..."

You paused for a long moment before you moved your sight out of the window.

"Well, that would make me very happy, you know?"

Steve smiled back at you, that warm feeling in his stomach slowly spreading through his entire body. There was something about you that he just couldn't quite put his finger on - you made him feel strangely relaxed yet on edge all at once, and he couldn't quite explain it.

"Why?"

"Because..." Your response was honest and sincere. "I don't know, I guess...I guess I just wish all the good things for him."

Steve was silent, his eyes not able to move from your face as he listened intently. It was at this moment that strange pang in his chest became so prominent that it almost knocked the breath out of him.

Your words were simple, yet they made his heart flutter. He didn't understand why, but he suddenly felt something he hadn't felt in years, a feeling so strong and overpowering yet so gentle.

Steve smiled, his voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper.

"You...you really care about him...huh?"

You stayed quiet. This was weird, he was asking, yet you felt that those questions came from some kind of reflexive thought, that it was your inner voice asking you.

So you answered, "I do. A lot."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment, the way you answered so quickly and so honestly made all hesitations and doubts disappear. He is not fighting anymore against it. He found himself looking at you intently, almost as if he were trying to read you.

His heart rate slowly rose, and those butterflies flew and flew in circles all around within him..

He suddenly remembers that he didn't even know your name. You’re such a dumbass, Rogers. Captain America is just an excuse, this is the REAL reason you don’t get dates over 100 years. He tells himself. Could you be more stupid?

"I don’t even know your name." He says in an apologetic tone.

"I'm..." You thought about it and decided to go with your real name, not the one you were known for.

Steve repeated your name silently to himself, letting it roll off his tongue and hearing the way it sounded as it left his lips.

He paused for a moment, his face softened with a slight smile as he was saying a breathtaking thought.

"Beautiful name..."

"Thanks." And you blinked at him. "And you are...?"

A subtle laugh flickered on his face at your joke before replying, "Well...you probably know my name already, but...I'm Steve, Steve Rogers."

Your heartbeat skipped a dozen paces, but you played it cool. "I like your name too."

Steve's eyes widened at your words. He hesitated and tilted his head slightly, letting his hair fall into his eyes as he spoke gently. "You're not going to call me 'Cap' or 'Captain America'?"

"Do...do you prefer it?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face: "No...I'd prefer it if you just called me Steve...or Stevie."

"Does...anyone dare to call you Stevie?"

Steve chuckled, "No...no one dares, no...but I think I'd be willing to let you get away with it..."

"Alright then, only because you've asked."

Steve's smile widened, a small laugh escaping his throat in response to your comment. He found himself taken aback by the unexpected emotions stirring within him. Every passing moment made him more drawn towards you, captivated by your presence.

He couldn't comprehend why he was suddenly feeling so at ease, as if he had known you for a lifetime instead of minutes.

It was like homecoming. Instead of greeting for the first time.

Steve sat up straight again, his eyes not leaving your face. He took another moment, gathering himself and taking a breath before speaking, his voice went as gentle and as low as ever.

"Can I tell you something?"

His gentle voice gave you goosebumps.

"Is it a secret?"

Steve chuckled nervously, his hands suddenly becoming sweaty and palms slightly clammy, his heart starting to pound against his chest. He shifted slightly so that he was even closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess you could call it a secret..."

"Will I ever be tortured by enemies trying to know this secret?"

Steve laughed, shaking his head and leaning back once again, but still staying close to you.

"No...no, you won't get tortured, I promise...it's just, something I just want to share with you and only you..."

"Oh, in that case...I better promise I won't tell...You've made me promise a lot of things tonight, Steve."

Steve smiled but noticed that his hands were becoming even more sweaty as he thought, and that his heart was racing like a teenager.

"Can I...can I lean a bit closer to you for a second?"

Your body literally was screaming to get closer to him, your brain was sending some kind of alert sign, and your heart was about to jump off your chest. So you were practically a mess. You could only do as you were commanded.

“Sure.”

Steve shuffled even closer to you, his leg slightly touching yours, the feeling of just sitting so close to you creating a small burst of electricity through his body. He suddenly realized that he could feel your body heat and how much he was desperate to get even closer, to feel that warmth directly against him.

He took another deep breath before speaking, his voice still as low and as gentle as a whisper, but the butterflies within him were entering in a frenetic dance.

"I'm gonna lean even closer than this, alright?"

No, it is not alright because your heart was going to burst, but could you ever say no to him?

"Alright." You nodded, unable to move your eyes from his.

Steve inhaled deeply at your response, his body almost aching to be even closer. He leaned in, his leg now firmly pushed against yours, his own body heat mixing with yours.

He was suddenly nervous, the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue. He took another deep breath, swallowing and licking across his lips before speaking once again in that same, low, gentle voice.

"Can I come even closer?"

You held your breath, barely nodded. Just move, MOVE!

Steve didn't need you to say anymore. His body was now fully pressed against yours, his breath catching as he took in your scent. God, you smelled like fresh grass after rain. It was driving him wild.

His head was next to yours, his cheek mere millimeters from your skin, like willow leaves resting on the water, creating ripples through your heart.

"Closer?"

Your mind was blurred. "Please."

That one word was all it took. Steve realized how much he wanted you. He shifted, lifting his leg onto the bench so he was almost sitting next to you, his chest and hips now pushed against you.

He could feel the heat from your body through his own and he got it, what was that wonderstruck homecoming sensation he had: he never wanted to be without it.

"Is this close enough?" he murmured, his voice nothing but a whisper.

You sighed, your heart pounding in your chest. With a determined look, you put your hands on his face, tracing gentle lines with your fingers.

You looked at him, your gaze holding his, as if you could see forever into his soul.

"No. If you don't mind. I'd like to be closer."

Steve's breath caught, his body burning with desire. He shifted closer, pressing against you, his pulse quickening. You felt his heat, his warmth, his desperate need, and you surrendered to it.

His breaths became shallower now, that strange feeling almost overwhelming within him.

"How about now?"

"Well...you think...you think that the other...the other superhero that suffers from insomnia could do better?" You slowly put your arms around his neck, and pulled him to yourself.

"Something...like this?"

Steve gasped, feeling a strong wave of electricity shoot straight to his core as he felt your arms around his neck, your body pressed against his all at once, his arms holding onto your waist, keeping you pulled close to him. His eyes flicked down to your lips as you spoke as he answered.

"Definitely."

And he suddenly realized how good it felt, how right it felt, how much he wanted to taste you, how badly he could feel that strange, overwhelming feeling in his heart begging him to just give in.

He moved just a little more. And it felt as if he were hanging on the edge of a cliff, his breath caught in his throat as he spoke, his voice a shaky whisper.

"Can I..."

And you moved your lips up, right into his.

And all the butterflies just...flew up, and a thousand golden glitter traces exploded everywhere like magic dust rolled in the wind.

Steve felt a sudden fire ignite within him as his body ached for you, every inch desperate to feel your touch.

He let out a small moan as he tasted you, the ache growing stronger with each passing second.

His hands roamed sliding down your back and up to your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands as the kiss deepened. Steve wanted more, he needed more...he just couldn't get enough.

But you broke the kiss, you needed air.

So he had to, too. His breaths coming out sharp and ragged, his heart hammering so hard and fast he could practically feel it in his head. He took a moment to compose himself, his hands holding you still against him, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to control his breathing.

“I…I can’t believe I just did that…” he spoke after a while, his voice coming out as a whisper.

OMG.

You opened your eyes and blurted out: "But...but...did...but did you like it?"

RIGHT? Please tell me you liked it or you'll have to present your resignation to Stark tomorrow.

“Liked it?”

Steve’s hand suddenly comes up to gently push a strand of hair back behind your ear.

“I loved it.”

You gazed at him, and of course, your impulse worked so much faster than your sense: "So can we do it again?"

Steve’s eyes widened, a small, incredulous laugh escaping his throat.

“You think you have to ask?”

"And...would you mind if I...take the lead...this time?" You can barely look at him, and your voice is so low that only a super soldier could hear.

"I..."Steve’s heart suddenly skipped. God, you’re wonderfully full of surprises.

"Not at all." Not in a million lifetimes.

"Ok." You inhaled deeply to take charge, but all of a sudden, you stopped. As you were realizing something.

"W-What's wrong?" Steve didn’t dare to speak above a whisper, his mind racing through every possible reason as to why you suddenly hesitated like that.

“Is this…too fast?”

"Oh no." You immediately shook your head: "No, this is wonderful. It's just...my heart is beating so fast and so loud, I don't...I don't even know what to do with it, just...just give me a second to recover. Hold to that thought a little longer."

You wave your face with a hand, as you couldn’t breathe. Is too loud. This is too loud. Your heart was pounding too fast, you were afraid he could hear it. That everyone in this campus could hear it.

"Oh for god's sake!" He laughed so hard. His heart suddenly swelled, the moment was perfect…perfect in a way he never realized possible. He couldn't believe it, how can you be so adorable and drive him to the edge of wildness at the same time.

As you struggle to catch your breath and calm your racing heart, your eyes are drawn to him. His smile, his laughter, the sparkle in his eyes, the way he holds your hand.

And in a moment of dumbfounded wonder, you find yourself uttering, "Are you even real…?”

He sighed, a long exhale filled with tenderness and emotions he couldn't yet understand. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered back with a smile.

"If I'm not real...your imagination is pretty damn amazing..."

"...I think this is beyond my imagination..."

Steve slowly moved his hand down to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb across the blushing skin: "Trust me, my imagination could never have come up with someone like you..."

"But..." You almost trembled under his touch, and as he raised your jaw to look at you, you finally took the lead.

"This is real."

And you pressed your lips to his for an even more perfect second kiss.

Steve gasped.

They say marvelous things about the first kisses. But how can they say nothing about the second one?

His heart suddenly accelerating within his chest, overtaken by the sensation of your touch. He couldn't think, head completely foggy, mind blurred, with the only clarity of wanting more.

His hand suddenly grabbed onto your waist, pulling you even closer to him, his own mouth instantly responding against yours.

He was losing it to the urge, the need, to get even closer to you, to have all of you.

Your whole body was shivering, and when you got a chance to breathe, you uncontrollably whispered his name with a lost voice.

"Steve..."

And that's just it.

That’s what set Steve on fire.

He slowly shifted his body, pulling you onto his lap so you were now sitting on his thighs. He leaned forwards to your ear, his hot breath on your neck as he spoke in a low whisper, his own voice almost pleading.

"Say it again..."

You opened your watery and moist eyes, and what you released was almost an uncontrolled begging moan, "Steve..." as you pressed your fingers tightly to his skin, unable to bear all these feelings.

Steve suddenly stopped all action, the sound of his name on your lips mixed with that look in your eyes sending a shiver down his spine.

"God..." He said as he breathed heavily and leaned back. Panting.

For fucks’ sake. He thinks to himself.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me..."

It took all the willpower within him not to act on his body's needs, not to press you down into the bench and claim all of you right there.

Your mind was so blurred and your body and heart were reacting so out of control that you had no idea what you were saying. So you just answered spontaneously in between panting breaths, "...Helping you with your sleeping problems?"

Steve chuckled. You were magical. His body was distressed after your reply, but still so pending on everything you made him feel. He looked at your blushed face and heard your agitated breathing. He couldn't understand how you truly had no idea of the effect you had on him, of how badly he wanted you right now. So he took a deep breath in, trying to hold himself back.

"Helping to sleep?" His thumb caressed your lips. "More like keeping me awake..."

"Oh..." As if you had any idea of how that had happened, ending up in his lap with this kiss that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

"So do you need another bedtime story?"

Steve chuckled again, your words bringing him back into the moment, grounding him a bit. He looked at you and smiled, shaking his head. "No, that's a wrap for today. But I need to ask you something."

Something he wanted to ask since you sat by his side tonight. But well, is not his fault that he was so easily distracted by you.

"And be honest with me, okay?" He inhaled slowly, and for a strange reason, his nerves rose again when you nodded. He slowly ran his eyes over your face, the way the light from the city below flickered on your skin.

And for a moment he hesitated in asking, what if the answer was not what he expected?

"Are you...seeing anyone right now...? Like...do you have a...boyfriend...?"

"Oh." From all the questions on earth, this was the last one you expected. So you nodded.

"Yeah, I do, from Mondays to Fridays, during working hours. Then, I'm allowed to hang around the campus at midnight to find a super soldier, sit on his lap, and kiss him."

Steve's eyes widened when he heard the first part, and then a loud laughter escaped his lips.

He felt his heart filled with inexplicable joy. Damn, you were good. He was so glad, he couldn't stop smiling, and he felt his soul was full with your hand interlocked with his. As two perfect matched pieces from a puzzle.

"Well...?" You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"Are you?" You looked at him as if it were an obvious implication. "Seeing someone?"

"No." He was firm, the small smile still on his face. He looked up at you, slowly shaking his head. "No...I haven't been with anyone for a while...I haven't had any reason to..." And he sighed a gentle whisper, "...up until now, anyway..."

You were terrible at getting indirect answers. Your brain only worked with binary stuff. So you blinked several times, making sure you understood correctly.

"And...can you consider that possibility, right now?"

Steve held his gaze steady on yours, "What if...what if I said I already had someone in mind?"

"Is she...helping you with your sleeping problems? Or...a very good storyteller?"

Steve suddenly let out a chuckle. "Maybe ...but it's not just about the sleep, you know...It's about...having that person there...that one person who's always there for you...that one person who always makes you smile..." As you.

"...that person you can always be yourself around..." As you. He thought, while observing you, expecting your reaction.

"Well..." You nodded, thinking about it seriously. "I....I don't know if I'd be a good fit but...."

"...But...?"

Steve's nerves built again as you paused for a moment, he wanted to know if you were saying what he thought you were about to say.

"But I promise I'll do everything in my power to make you smile...and...and I'll be there...always...and...I'll do anything..."

Your lack of courage didn't let you finish under the look of Steve's gaze. He was so serious that you started to stutter and couldn't finish those stupid words.

Well done. That sounded so cliche. You couldn't believe yourself.

But Steve sat there, completely stunned and frozen, your words slowly sinking in within his mind. He couldn't believe what you'd just said, how you'd spoken to them with such honesty, such conviction. And you weren't even together yet, you weren't a couple, you weren't...anything, really.

And his stomach was twisting into a knot as he listened to your every word, as he heard the meaning behind them.

A strange kind of calm washed over him, as if a weight was suddenly slowly lifted from his chest. You couldn't have said it better. He couldn't even imagine better, and yet, everything you said was exactly what he hoped you'd say, and those words had calmed and soothed something within him he'd never realized needed soothing.

"I AM SO SORRY." You, in the other hand, were a mess while he was still wonderstruck, thinking that made him feel so uncomfortable. "I'll take it back, I didn't say anything."

"No." He replied immediately. No, don't you dare take that back from me.

He wanted to speak, wanted to say so much, but the words failed him. So he inhaled deeply, and cupped your face in his hands, pressed his forehead to yours.

"I m, I'm just...stunned, I'm just...marveled."

"Huh?" This emotional rollercoaster was killing you. "Why?"

Steve suddenly let out a small chuckle, your innocence and naivety when it came to your affect on him just kept him in endless wonder. But he had time. You'll find out eventually how important you are. And that makes him smile. That's a wonderful word: "Eventually." Means you have so much ahead of you together.

"Because...I've never heard anyone say the things you just said to me, that's why..."

"Oh." You are not really good at interpreting people's faces. So you just don't know what to say, and to be honest, there's something else you want to ask.

"Steve?"

"Mmh?"

"Can I have your phone number?"

Steve laughed again, God, what a night. How can you be this...amazing? He pulled the phone out, turning it on and pulling up the screen as he spoke.

"Of course you can...here...put your number in..."

"Yeah..." You rubbed your nose. "I don't know my phone number...Maybe...you can search it in the...public contact list? Here, let me help you." You say while entering your complete name in the organization's internal app.

"Oh." Steve frowns. "You don't know your phone number?"

"Well, do you?" You return his cellphone after finding your contact card in the top level section.

"I know EVERYONE'S number." Steve has a smirk on his face, his playful side suddenly coming out.

"Really? WHY?" You wonder. "You're on Level 0, you should have access to everything, you don't need to have to know the numbers by heart..."

"Because...I'm Captain America, I have to know these things..."

You take this joke so seriously, you're shocked. "REALLY? You know...like all the avenger's numbers?"

Steve snorted a laugh, the look on your face priceless. Oh, you gorgeous, adorable being. And he had this urge, of kissing you again, so he smiled, leaning a little closer to you as he spoke, his hand tightening around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Yeah...yeah I do...every single one..."

Your eyes sparkled.

"Can I have Thor's?"

"What?" That got him off guard, and he answered really fast. "NO." No way. You stay away from him. You're mine.

"Why? Does he even use these things?" You were so genuinely intrigued. "Don't you talk to him through a magic mirror or something?"

"W...what..." Steve didn't know what to answer, he was laughing and shaking his head while swiping his contacts. "No, we don't have magic mirrors, I actually do have his number, look, over here 'God Of Thunder'..."

"Wow, did you actually name him 'God Of Thunder'?" You find that incredibly cute.

"Oh yeah...I'm one of those people that put's everything..." He held his phone in front of you.

"...well here it is...there's 'The Mighty Thor', the 'King of Asgard', also 'God of Thunder'...and 'Thunder God'...pick your favorite..."

You look at him while his sight is on the screen of his phone, your voice almost a whisper.

"And...um...what would be...my contact name?"

"Well..." Steve's eyes were glancing down to his phone at your question, wondering what he would call you. He paused for a moment, scrolling to the section of his contacts list, his thumb hovering over the small, blank box for your name. He thought for a moment longer.

"What would you want it to be...?"

And your words escaped from your mouth before you could think clearly, before you could reply with anything smart.

"What do you want me to be? …to you?"

Steve suddenly froze, his finger hovering over the blank contact name as your words echoed in his ears, filling his mind.

He straightened his pose, his eyes met yours, looking deep into them, silently trying to figure out what you'd just said.

And he finally exhaled slowly, his thoughts racing through his mind again, unable to form words for a moment. He could only manage a quiet voice, a soft whisper.

"How about...my Everything."

And there was once upon a time, a soldier who couldn't sleep asked for a wish to a fairy.

So there you were, feeling your heart has exploded into a million shining butterflies, and all the stars of the universe have made your wish come true, you took his hand and smiled.

"Your wish is granted, soldier."

Hii thanks for reading & thanks for sticking with me this far <3 I hope you liked it and it wasn't too long to boring. This is my first time writing in english, hope it wasn't terrible :3 also, this is my first time setting this thing in tumblr, so fingers crossed it worked out okay ;_; A special hug to this lady who helped me set this up @jamneuromain (I still have no idea how this works)

Love.,

Moon.

#captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x ofc #yeahidkwhatisthis

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thecapricunt1616 · 6 months

Text

Balessan - (c.b. oneshot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒):“The Cub takes down The Bear at the 20 yard lineee!!” Mikey shouts ferociously, jumping up and pouncing on Carmys chest in a bodyslam. Carm groans, “Ohhh you little cheater- when did we start wrestling?! They don’t do bodyslams in football, kid” he wraps his arms around Mikey, caging him in and tickling his sides, causing him to squeal and laugh wildly.

♡ O.S Inspo: Balessan ; Also known as: Poplar Buds, Balsam Poplar, Balm of Gilead, Mecca, Mecca Balsam, & Bechan - This Magickal herb can be used to bring forth; Love, manifestations, protection, healing, de-stressing, and assisting in healing from the loss of a loved one. Use in love sachets; carry for healing, protection, and mending a broken heart. ♡ Summary: This amazing, big brained, fabulous & wonderful request is inspired from this ask from my beautiful flower @daysofyellowroses - Thank you my love. -- In this O/S You & Carmy spend a day with his nephew at the park!

♡ W/C: 4,200

♡ Posted Date: 03/19/2024

♡ A/N: Aaaa! look at me pumpin' these one shots out like hot cakes!!! Get your requests in folks I have a long weekend ahead hahaha!! This was BEYOND fun to write, thank you so much again Rose for such an amazing request. I hope it's everything you imagined!! I lovee love love writing mushy happy Carmy, he deserves all the love in his life!! I totally see him being the pushover uncle just like this, Happy Meals & Ice Cream for daysss!!! <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: NONE!!! Well... carmy smokes a cigarette at the end? That's all hahah - ***NO USE OF Y/N - AS LITTLE PHYSICAL DESCRIP. AS POSSIBLE - READER IS CALLED 'BLOSSOM' IN THIS O/S :)***

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Carmen had never felt true love before. He didn’t think he’d ever know what that felt like. He’d heard stories of parents meeting their newborn babies for the first time, saying that ‘it was an indescribable feeling of holding the entire world in the palm of your hands.’ And that to him, sounded like bullshit.

It was sweet and all, but considering the way his mother and father treated he and his siblings growing up- that moment was fleeting at the very least.

That was what he’d thought, until that is- he got the call that would change his life, forever.

Sugar and Pete had kept the gender of their baby a secret, Carmy was very excited for them, and though Pete wasn’t his favorite person- he knew in his heart he’d be a great dad. Better then he could ever do at least, so that had eased his mind for the new blood of his family.

Pete had called to inform him that Sugar had given birth, finally, he thought to himself. He didn’t realize that the labor process could take days. Sugar had went into the hospital on Tuesday, in the early afternoon when her water had broken- it was now 4 pm Thursday evening. It was about time for the kid to make an appearance.

He’d made his way down to the hospital right away, no questions asked. It was Sugar after all, and after Pete had told him she wasn’t having any visitors, but had requested that he specifically come see her- he wasn’t gonna let her down.

He’d even stopped at the 24-hour deli convenience store on the way, getting her a club sandwich that she’d been moaning about not being able to have for months - something about pregnant people not being allowed to have lunch meat? He wasn’t sure what that was about.

When he got in the room, it was so quiet, he could hear his heart thumping in his ears. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous- it’s not like the kid was gonna have an opinion on him…yet. But still, he knew first impressions were important. He also didn’t want to fuck anything up, he wasn’t very sure how to hold a baby- he’d never held Eva when she was young, and he heard babies necks were super floppy, so he was really nervous he’d hurt them by mistake.

“Hey..” he said softly, and Sugar sits up. She looked utterly exhausted, she was pale, her hair was knotted and sweaty all stuck to her forehead, and her eyes were bloodshot from either pain or being so tired, he wasn’t sure which.

“Bear! You came!” She said quietly, opening her arms for a hug. He walks over to her, carefully wrapping his arms around her as he wasn’t sure if her stomach would be hurting or not, and kissing her cheek lovingly.

“Y’re amazing Sugar, you did so good, thats fuckin’ crazy- you had a baby, Sug” he tells her, rubbing her arm gently. Carmen didn’t know much about pregnancy and birth, other than what he’d learned from Sugar over the past year or so. The only thing he really knew about the birthing process was what he’d seen on TV, and the fact that birth hurt like an absolute bitch, and that there was no way around it.

“Thank you…is that-“ she asked, picking up the bag he’d placed next to her on the bed. He smiled a bit, pulling the sandwich out.

“Club sandwich. Don’t say I never listen to you” he teased and she pouted, tears filling her eyes and she pulled him into another hug.

“Y’re the best Bear.” She said. “Sorry…I’m gonna be hormonal for like..another year” she laughed a bit.

He chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “I’m used to it by now.” He teased.

The door opened, and a nurse wheeled in a bundle of white striped blankets in to the room, lying in a bassinet.

“Oh! Uncle is here! Okay so baby did great, they’re all set. We got all the bloodwork we needed, took their k shot, everything is looking wonderful. I’ll let you get acquainted” she said, being sure not to give away the baby’s name or gender before they were ready, leaving the little bundle next to Sugars bedside before heading out and closing the door quietly behind her.

The baby coos, making sweet adorable little noises. Carmen took the bag of food for Sugar, placing it on her bedside table as she carefully picked up her baby, cradling them in her arms.

Carmen was in awe. Everything about them was so…tiny. So pure, so untouched by the world. He carefully nudged the blanket down so he could get a better view of their face, the babies teeny little hand peeking out. He couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped his lips as the babe curled their whole hand around his forefinger.

“Sug” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes and falling to his cheeks before he could try and hold them back. “Oh god…” he said softly, stroking the baby's tiny fingers with his thumb.

“Michael Anthony Lombardi” she said softly. He looks up at her, jaw dropped.

It was totally something sugar would do, so sentimental. Naming her first son after her 2 brothers. But now, Carmen felt even more attached to the little guy. He was carrying his name- he had to take care of him, protect him, the same way Michael had done for him.

Carmen sniffles, kissing her head and resting his cheek on top of it as he looks down at the beautiful little baby. Well- maybe not beautiful physically- yet. Carmen always thought brand new babies looked fairly weird, of course he’d never tell Sugar that, though.

But, beautiful in the sense that he knew what this baby meant for them, for their family. It was a brand new beginning, and maybe- just maybe…this would be enough to get his mother to clean up her act enough to be the grandmother for this baby how she couldn’t be a mother to he and his siblings. “Nice to meet you, Mikey” he said with the kind of smile that made his eyes crinkle, vision blurry with tears.

It had been about 6 months since you and Carm had met, and one of the things you loved about him was what an active, engaged uncle he was with his little nephew, Michael.

He’d grown plenty now since the first time he and the little cub met, being ‘a whole hand and a thumb’ as Mikey proudly told you the time you’d met the little firecracker at the first family dinner you’d attended.

That little boy was Carmy’s sun, moon, and all of his stars. He was constantly spoiling him with new toys, clothes, taking him out for “Mikey and Bear” days, the kid was the lockscreen on his phone for crying out loud. If you weren’t dating him, with the way he talks about that boy- you’d think he was a single dad.

Sugar very much appreciated it though, she never wanted to stop working when she’d gotten pregnant, so being able to balance four different days off with 3 adults, rather than just split the duties between her and Pete- it helped their lives as a couple run a lot smoother overall.

It took a while for Carmy to even introduce you to Mikey. He’d been nervous, reverting to his old ways of ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ and nothing would crush him more, then introducing his favorite little guy to someone, getting him used to them, and then them leaving him.

He could handle that rejection- but he damn sure wasn’t gonna subject Mikey to that same pain. If there was one thing Carmen swore, it was to protect the child with everything he had.

This was the third time you’d be meeting Mikey. Carmy had asked if you wanted to take him to the park together for a picnic after he’d picked him up from school, and of course you agreed. There was no better way to spend the afternoon than sharing snacks with your Bear under the shade of oak trees from the late spring sun, and chasing around Sugars mini-me until he clonked out on the blanket for a nap.

When you’d arrived to the park to meet them, you spotted Carm’s large black blanket with his backpack and 2 matching big and small Nalgene water bottles, adorned with stickers from different water parks and amusement parks they’d been to together, but he nor Mikey were nowhere to be seen. But you couldn’t miss them with how loud Mikey was being.

“No! No! I call foul!!” Carm laughed boisterously. You continue on, seeing them come in to view past the blockade of a large tree- to find Carmy rolling in the grass as Mikey tackled him for the football he was holding.

“The Cub takes down The Bear at the 20 yard lineee!!” Mikey shouts ferociously, jumping up and pouncing on Carmys chest in a bodyslam.

Carm groans, “Ohhh you little cheater- when did we start wrestling?! They don’t do bodyslams in football, kid” he wraps his arms around Mikey, caging him in and tickling his sides, causing him to squeal and laugh wildly.

“Wow! Uncle Bear has been lacking at the gym, thanks for takin’ care of my light stuff Mikey” you said teasingly with a big smile.

Mikey quickly got up, running over to you “Blossom!!!” he squealed, crashing into your waist, nearly knocking you over in the process. Blossom had become your nickname in the family, since the first time they’d met you, Carm insisted you’d smelt like cherry blossoms, to which Sugar and Richie agreed, so from then on- you were Blossom.

“Woah! Kid you’re getting strong huh? Peewee football training been gettin intense?” You give him a big hug.

Carm chuckled, getting up and dusting the grass and leaves from his hair and shirt, coming over and greeting you with a peck on the lips. “Tell me ‘bout it- Thanks for meeting me, kids got crazy energy today.” He said, ruffling the boys curly soft brown hair lovingly.

“Nowww can we eat our lunch?” Mikey looked up at him, his pretty blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon light. He really did look like Mikey, and Carmy mixed together in the best way. The Berzatto family genes were mighty strong, at least on the men’s side.

“Yes Cub. Y’know…you scammed me into a happy meal before we got here, how can you be so starved?” He teased, causing you to giggle.

“Again? Wow Carm, you’re going softer and softer as the days go by” you teased, sitting down with he and Mikey on the comfortable blanket under the shade of the trees.

“Well it’s hard to tell him no. Did you know he got a 100% on his spelling test t’day? Mikey, tell Blossom how to spell ‘water’ ” he told him with a grin.

Mikey looks over proudly “w-a-t…” he stops for a moment, looking at Carmy nervously.

“You got it bud, keep goin’- sound it out, what’s next?” Carmy encourages gently.

“E! It's E! w-a-t-e-r!” Mikey finishes proudly and you both clap for him excitedly.

“Oh my goodness! You are such a smart boy. Good job Mikey!” You gush, giving him a high five.

“That’s right the smartest. First spelling test of the year, and you nailed it bud!!” Carmy praised, hugging him and kissing his head sweetly.

“Mommy’s gonna be so excited!” He said, sitting crisscross as he opened up his pb&j Carm packed for him.

“She’s gonna be stoked, Cub. Absolutely stoked” you told him, taking the sandwich Carm had offered you.

“Oh! Blossom I learned a new joke- listen, so you say who’s there when I say ‘knock knock’ got it?” Mikey asks and you nod with a smile.

“Alright, thank you for my lines ahead of time, Cub” you joked, earning a chuckle out of Carmen who had surely heard this joke one million times since he’d learned it, considering he saw the kid no less then 5 days a week.

“Knock knock!” Mikey said, looking at you expectantly.

“I’m doing the dishes” you said, causing Mikey to burst into adorable giggles and Carm to follow suit since he couldn’t help himself when Mikey got started.

“Nooo! Blossom!” He giggled “you say ‘who’s there’ this time, ok?” He said and you nod.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make sure to be not so busy this time.” You teased with a giggle.

“Knock knooock!” He said again.

“Hold on just a second! I need to feed mister mittens- my cat!” You said and he laughs again, shaking his head.

“You promised! Blossom! It’s ‘who’s there!’ “ he giggled.

“Okayyy! Okay! Whoooos there?” You oblige.

“Harry!!!” He said happily, popping a grape in his mouth.

“I don’t know a Harry- so scram!” You teased and he laughed so hard he snorted, causing you and Carmy to crack up in a fit of laughs together.

“You’re bad at jokes Blossom, here watch, Bear will do it right f’me. Bear, knock knock” he looks over at Carm.

“Who’s there, Cub?” He said, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“Harry” he smiled big, “listen blossom” Mikey urges, causing you to giggle.

“Harry who” Carm said with a large grin. “Harry up and open the door it’s raining out here!!!” Mikey said, bursting in to a fit of giggles which of course caused you and Carm to join.

“Ready or not here I come!” You hear Carmy say. You hold your finger to your lips, holding Mikey tightly in your lap in the tube slide so you both won’t fall and give up your ingenious hiding spot the two of you had come up with.

“Shhh! We gotta be quiet Cub or he’s gonna find us- the bear will eat you!” you joked and he covered his mouth quickly to contain his giggles.

“Where are youuuu!” Carmy called from the other side of the playground, you giggled quietly to yourself.

“We picked a good spot bud!” you whisper proudly and he nods, hugging your arm sweetly. Leg suddenly cramps up from being in such an awkward position in a tube meant for children much shorter then you, and you gasp quietly, moving your foot to relieve it but in the struggle- your flip-flop slips off, sliding down the tube slide and you hear it thump on the ground below, blowing up your hiding spot.

You and Mikey look at eachother as you hear Carm laugh, “Ohhhh! Dead!! You’re both dead!” he said and you quickly lift Mikey behind you.

“Go Mikey! Save yourself he’s gonna eat you!!!” you laugh and he scrambles out of the tube as Carm climbs up from the bottom, grabbing your bare foot.

You squeal in laughter as he pulls you down the slide by your feet, catching you at the bottom and kissing all over your face and neck, nibbling as he goes. “You’ve been caught” he growls playfully, pinning your arms above your head and kissing where your shirt rode up over your stomach leaving playful lovebites on your hips.

“Hey!” Mikey yells, running up and hugging Carms leg, hanging on it like a little monkey. “Thats my best friend! Leave her alone you big grizzly bear!” he yells through his giggles, playfully hitting Carmys leg.

“Ohhhh you’re dead Cub, dead meat buddy” he pulled away from you, scooping Mikey up and swinging him around. “Y’think y’can just beat up y’re best uncle mm little man?” he holds him upside down by his legs holding him carefully and dangling him in front of your face causing him to laugh wildly. “I present your savior Blossom, he’s been defeated” he sways him teasingly causing him to laugh more.

“Oh noooo! Cub! The Bear got you! I forgot to tell you….he and I were working together in secret- mwahaha!!” you laugh evilly, tickling his exposed belly and he wiggles screeching in laughter.

“Not fair- Not fair!!!” he said between giggles. Carm carefully laid him on your lap so he wouldn’t get sick from being upside down and checks his watch for the time.

“Alright- we got 15 minutes, do we want swings, slide, or playing a game?” Carmy asked, causing Mikey to whine.

“Noooo! Bear! It’s not time yet!!! It’s not even dark” he pouted, pointing at the sun, causing Carm to smile.

“Y’re right, its not dark, but bein’ a big man in kindergarten means you got big man responsibilities now, like goin’ home and doin’ homework w’Dad yeah? He’s gonna be waitin’ on you, Dad’s not a man I can reason with m’friend, Higher rank on the totem” he ruffled his hair.

“Fiiiine” Mikey grumbled. “I wanna do swings, race me-” he jumps up from your lap, sprinting towards the swingset.

“Wha- hey! You’re supposed to say 1,2,3, go! Those are the rules cheater!” Carmy laughs as he jogs after him. You slipped on your flipflop, going after the two boys.

“I beat you! See Blossom my new shoes make me so fast!” Mikey called to you proudly, hopping up and sitting in the swing as Carmy finally caught up.

“I did! Super fast Mikey!” you agreed with a giggle making your way up to the swingset.

“Oh! Oh! Blossom, let’s see who can get higher!” Mikey said happily and you oblige, sitting on the swing next to him.

“Alright, Bear- you’re the judge I guess” you smiled, starting to pump your legs.

“I’m a tough critic, I expect perfect form outta you” he teased, sitting down on the picnic table in front of the swingset as he watched.

“I’m gonna win” Mikey said confidently, already getting a few feet higher then you had.

You giggled, “Yeah- cause you had a head start” you counter, pumping your legs harder trying to gain more momentum.

“It’s lookin’ good for Mikey babe, keep it up kid y’re doin’ great” Carm encouraged, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his legs out as he watched.

“Bear can I jump off and you catch me?” Mikey asked hopefully to which Carmen laughs.

“Noooo way kiddo, I’m not takin’ a trip to the ER t’night, I got work in the morning and either i’ll end up hurt, or y’mother will kill me” he said, causing you to laugh as well.

“You’re gonna break your neck kid, don’t do that at school, did that once as a kid and I broke my ankle” you giggled, gasping as your flipflop flew off once again and hit Carmen right over the top of the head, causing you and Mikey to burst out in a fit of giggles.

“Hey!” Carm said, rubbing his head jokingly with a chuckle.”Those things are proving to be a horrible choice of park footwear, baby” he snorts, setting the shoe next to him on the bench for when you got off.

“I’m sorry! My work shoes were a worse choice and these are all I had in my locker” you giggled, the wind whipping your hair as you get higher and higher in the air.

“Bear! Bear! Look how high I am!!!” Mikey said proudly to which Carm nods with a big grin.

“That’s right bud! Y’re so high right now, bet you could touch an airplane if it was flyin’ over huh?” he said, digging his phone out of his pocket to take a video. “Say hi to Mommy!” he said and Mikey laughed happily, waving at Carm.

“Hiiii Mommy! I love you!” he said sweetly with a giggle. “Am I beating Blossom? Huh Bear? Am I higher?” he said and Carm chuckled.

“Mhmm- sorry baby, I think Mikey has ya beat this time around,” he said, ending the video and slipping his phone back in his pocket.

“Well how could I beat the best huh?” you mused, stopping pumping your legs so your swing would slow.

“I told you!” Mikey giggled, digging his heels into the woodchips to come to a hard stop and running up to Carmy, giving him a big hug. “Can we get ice cream bear?” he asked and Carm laughed, shaking his head.

“You don’t stop, huh kiddo? No ice cream, It’ll spoil y’r dinner. How ‘bout, if y’really good at school this week- When I get you on Friday, we’ll go you ‘n me yeah?” he pats his back and Mikey nods with a pout.

“Pinky promise” He holds up his pinky and Carmy hooks his own around it, kissing Mikeys hand, and Mikey kisses his.

“See? Deal” he ruffled his brunette curls and got up, grabbing the flip flop and coming up to you, crouching down grabbing your leg and kissing down your calf causing you to giggle before he carefully put the flip flop on your foot.

“I want a piggyback!” Mikey said, jumping on Carmys back to which he caught his balance with his forearm.

“Woah! Okay! Alright piggyback it is bud but y’gotta tell me yeah? We don’t want anyone gettin’ hurt” he told him, hiking him up on his waist as he stood up, Mikey wrapping his arms around his neck securely.

“Ok I’ll tell you next time” he replied. You hopped off the swing, taking Carmy’s hand and interlacing your fingers as you walked, swinging your hands together happily. The weather was absolutely perfect today. Not a cloud in the sky, perfect humidity, 72 degrees, you were surprised there weren’t more people here at the park other than the fact it was a Wednesday afternoon.

The three of you made your way back over to the blanket, and Carmy gently sets Mikey down to fold it up and pack up his backpack with the remainder of the food we couldn’t finish. “Blossom look! Look! I can jump so high in my new shoes!” Mikey said, tugging your pants to look at him and you obliged, keeping him busy as Carm tried to get everything situated to pack into the car.

“Alright little jumping bean, time to go home d’you wanna race to the car, or I’ll carry you?” He asked, putting on his backpack and carrying Mikeys for him.

“Race- 123go!” Mikey said quickly before taking off and you laughed. Carm shakes his head with a smile, holding your hand as you both walked after him to the car.

The ride back was full of laughter and singing Bluey songs, of course. That was Mikey’s favorite show at the moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way Carmy sang with Mikey along to every word. Carmy had even gotten a little Bluey air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, just another little piece of Mikey that hung around, alongside his carseat that permanently lived in the back, the polaroid of him, sugar, and Mikey on his dash, the many toys scattered along the backseat. It was more than clear that the little guy held his entire heart in the palms of his hands.

“Alright buckaroo” Carmy said as he pulls into sugars driveway. Mikey unbuckles himself, flinging forward and wrapping you into a hug.

“Bye awesome blossom, thanks for playing with me” he said sweetly. You smiled, ruffling his hair and wrapping your arms around him.

“We’ll do it again soon, bud. Be good yeah? Listen t’your momma” You told him, patting his back. Carmy got out, grabbing his bluey backpack for him, helping him out of the car and carrying him up the steps, opening up the door and heading in to drop him off.

You opened up the center console, digging out Carm’s cigarettes and a lighter, knowing he was gonna be craving one bad when he got back in the car. Sugar didn’t even have to ask, as soon as the baby was born- if he was gonna be around the baby he wasn’t smoking until after he’d left, so there was absolutely no chance of any secondhand smoke being passed on to him.

Cracking the window, you lit it, taking a drag as he shuts the door behind him and comes back to the car. You offered the cigarette between your fingers and he smiled, taking it after he buckled his seatbelt. “Have I reminded you today, how much I love you my perfect angel” He leaned in, giving you a sweet lingering kiss on the lips.

You smiled, humming softly at the sweet gesture. “Yes- well- not in person today, but, you did text me - good morning, I love you when you went to work, so that counts” he smiled as he took a drag, backing out of the driveway carefully.

“Well, I love you baby, What are we doin’ f’r dinner? Am I cookin’ er we goin out?” he cracks his window, ashing his cigarette before having another drag, resting his tattooed hand on your thigh, stroking gently as he drove.

“I’m in the mood for some Berzatto Family Pasta” you hum, resting your hand out the window to feel the cool kiss of the spring evening breeze. “Family pasta it is, Blossom”

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear fic #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen x reader

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thatanimeramenchick · 6 months

Note

I just thought of somethin(I’m sorry if I’m spamming or anything. I’ve got ADHD so my brain is constantly making ideas that I have to share. I do not wish to overwhelm you)

What about a Yandere Lucifer(Hazbin) with a immortal human reader? They were cursed from a young age with immortality because of a mistake there mother made. They can die but don’t really stay dead. Every time they die they get a scar so there covered with them both large and small. They go to university but was supposed to be sacrificed by a cult to Lucifer but obviously survived but now there stuck with Lucifer always being around?

Yandere Lucifer x Human Sacrifice Reader Pt. 1

You’re fine! Definitely not spamming. I just might take some time before I get to writing it. Lucifer has me in a choke hold, but so does Vox. I also wanted to do this idea justice, as it actually has a lot of potential, so it took me a little while before I finally felt like it sounded kind of decent. Also it was getting long, so going to be a two parter.

Part Two

Trigger Warning: Graphic Violence

Word Count: 2,431

---

You first realized something was wrong when you were twelve.

It was a warm August afternoon, perfect for a day on the lake. Only a week left before school, your extended family was having a last little hurrah camping trip. Water brushed against your shoulders as you waded through the water, looking for small fish and crawdads. Your cousins were on the shore, half asleep as they rested from swimming.

“Kids! It’s time for lunch!” you heard your Aunt’s voice fill the air.

Eager for food, like any other over-exhausted child, you turn quickly on the slick rocks, ready to run inside.

“Wait for me!” you cry out, taking no care in how fast you were moving.

And down you went. Your slipped right out from under you and sent you crashing beneath the waves. A roar filled your ears as your body ripped through the water and sent your head against the stone ground. Along with the cold water, you felt a hot liquid bubbling from the crown of your head.

Whether from shock or pain, you were unable to swim. You thrashed and attempted to scream, only letting more water into your throat. Surely someone had heard you falling and would come to save you, right? There was no way they hadn’t heard you.

Yet as seconds passed, you started to think that maybe no one had heard you. Every passing moment felt like an eternity as you were unable to hold your breath and water choked down your throat.

You swore that you felt your lungs literally ripping apart, splitting at the seams in a pain that was so intense you felt like you would black out. You suddenly knew what it was like to be the balloons you and your cousins had blown up with a little too much air and watched pop into a million pieces.

The oxygen must finally have evaporated from the combination of fluid filling your lungs and blood leaving your body. This was it.

You were going into the arms of the angels.

---

To this day, beneath your hair, was the large scar from “the incident” as your family referred to it.

Well, when they referred to it at all, which was almost never.

All you had remember was awakening in the hospital, gasps, tears, and even a scream filling the air as you sat up.

“I-impossible!” your aunt had said, gazing in shock at you, “She was… She had to be….”

“I told you, the doctors had made a mistake,” your mother had said calmly. She had been sitting beside you, squeezing your hand. Though her words were soft and controlled, there were tears on the edges of her eyes.

Your cousins started crying as well, coming forward, looking just as stunned. The only one who had seemed unsurprised was your mother, who held your hand in a death grip.

That day lived in infamy in your mind. Though nothing had ever been explained, small snippets from conversations you hadn’t been meant to overhear had formed an image of what had happened.

Finally, it had been noticed that you were not there, and your eldest cousin had been the horrified witness to your body in the lake, water red from the massive loss of blood. Though they had called the ambulance, it was clear to everyone that you had died before they had even got there.

Or so they had thought.

You had been laid in the hospital, check on, with no pulse or breath in you. Your family had been in the room crowding around you, all saying final goodbyes. All except your mother, who had simply grabbed onto your hand and insisted that you weren’t dead. The doctor had made a mistake, you would be fine. Naturally, your Aunt and Uncle thought that your mother was simply confused after the traumatic experience.

But you had woken up. Suddenly, something had changed. The machines detected life, and you had taken a gasping breath before groggily opening your eyes.

The nurses and doctors had seem just as spooked as your extended family, but once it was determined that somehow you had survived and your lungs were intact, they let you go. Someone must have made some kind of mistake at some point.

There had been no explanation, logical or otherwise for your salvation. Your mother said that you must be under divine protection, and you had accepted the answer, as much as you weren’t really convinced of it. Convinced or not, you were alive, and you supposed that was what mattered.

That had been nine years ago. It was something you rarely thought about anymore, though recently, you had been wondering about it. The whole thing was weird, and your studies in medical school only made it weirder.

You didn’t have time to think about it these days though. You were short on two things, money and time. Which is why you were now looking at the posters hung in the cafeteria for an opportunity to make some quick cash.

You had some cash flow from your repeated donations of plasma and blood cells, as well as the occasional babysitting gig in between studies. You needed more though, and the flier you were looking at was promising a lot of pay if you went to this interview and were accepted as a participant for an experiment that some seniors were doing. So many of you had participated in a couple of experiments for professors and students to earn a buck here and there. You could do it again. You ignored the vague wording, thinking that it was probably some experimentation that involved the subjects being in the dark.

So now, you were sitting on a park bench with the interviewer for the program, being drilled harder than if you had stayed out all night as a teenager.

“Do drugs, smoke, alcohol?” the interviewer asked.

“No,” you said.

“All right,” she said, "And... we'll need to know you're relationship history as well. Any boyfriends, girlfriends?”

“I had one boyfriend in high school,” you said, "Been too busy last few years though.”

“Just one boyfriend... Ok, and any hookups?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Like, you know, bar or party hookups. Casual sex.”

“I-I- Uh... No,” you said.

“So you're a virgin?” she asked.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t see how this is relevant,” you said, feeling uncomfortable.

“It’s necessary information for dividing the groups in our experiment,” she said, “Your personal name isn’t going to be connected to any of this. But we need to know as much personal information as possible if you want us to consider you for this. We need to know our subjects on a deep level.”

You sigh in irritation, “Fine, whatever. Yes, I am.”

“Ok,” she said, scribbling something down.

After a few more minutes of interrogation, she stood up.

“All right then, I think I have everything I need to know. We will be in touch if you pass all right? If you do, you'll be contacted on the meeting place for the experimentation,” she said.

---

A week later, you had gotten a call back from the same interviewer, saying you had passed initial testing. They assigned a day for you to show up at the lab. After you had arrived on the appointed day and signed some wavers, they took you aside and gave you some medication, saying they were conducting a test on REM sleep in three sessions. The first two had gone typically, and you had awoken, mind numb and fuzzy after the sessions. But something was different when you woke up the third time. You weren't in the lab.

You awoke, foggy eyed, your mind still grainy. The room was freezing, even more so than the normally cool temperature it was kept at. In a few seconds, you realized you weren't in the lab at all or likely the university. Your surroundings were totally alien as you realized where you were and who you were with.

You were looking up at a circle of men and women in black and red cloaks. A sickening smell of incense fills the air, and you feel something right digging into your wrists and ankles. In moments, you realize you have been tied down to a stone altar, somewhere dark and damp, like a cave or temple. Directly over you stands a middle aged man, holding a knife.

“She’s perfect,” he said, “A beautiful young virgin. Not tainted in any way, in good health. The ideal sacrificial lamb.”

The day of the incident was swarming back into your mind as you now struggled against the rope tying you own, as futile as you had felt slapping against the water. You couldn’t even attempt to scream, a cloth was shoved so far down your throat, the scent of whatever chemical they had dipped in it making it burn. Part of you wondered if you would vomit and repeatedly suffocate before he could even stab you.

“Oh Lucifer, we call upon you to accept this sacrifice,” the man called out, raising the knife, “May you be pleased with this offering, and in exchange bless our work. May we be more prosperous and rich than any others! We bow down to you!”

With his final words, he sliced the knife into your chest, so fast and swift that you didn’t feel it at first. It was as subtle as a breeze rushing past your cheek or hearing a whisper in the hallway. Small as it was though, you couldn’t deny that it was there. Within a split second, as he ripped the knife out, you felt some of that pain materializing. A muffled scream is silenced, and you feel the cloth sink deeper into your throat, choking you. Even if your mouth can not let out a sound, the surrounding flesh is painful enough that it feels like it is screaming in silent agony.

He continues to stab at you. The pain worsens as he tries to push the knife deep into your heart, but manages to instead stab into your ribs multiple times. Each removal of the knife releases a fountain of blood. Warm, fast, sleek streams bathe your skin and clothes as he drives the knife through you over and over again, without mercy. Penetrating, forceful, as if you were being violated in the worst possible way. The physical pain of the experience is nothing compared to the mental anguish of helplessness and terror you feel.

Finally, mercifully a few cuts sink between you ribs and pierce your heart. Within minutes, your world begins fading to black.

This is it. Finally.

At least that was what you hoped. No more pain, only peace.

---

Hell was real.

You hadn’t died, but you didn’t need to for you to experience a pure torment worse than death. Some twisted miracle, curse, whatever the hell it was, had saved you. You awoke who knows how long after the attack, alone and still strapped to the stone altar. You couldn’t lift your head, it roared with pain. The pure torture of regenerating, something you hadn’t felt in years. Your body burned and itched as it restitched itself back together, slowly. The process of regeneration was in some ways more gruesome than the actual attack had been. Every inch of your chest felt like it was on fire.

The cloth was still stuck deep in your throat, making it impossible to call for help, but part of you knew that even if you could have it probably wouldn’t attract attention from anyone you would want. Your only fear was that it would remain stuck in your throat for ages. The image of it resting there until your spit somehow dissolved it and allowed for you to breathe normally haunted you, as well as the image that you might die from an infection or suffocation like this a couple of times before that happens.

Your mind was so focused on this that you didn’t notice the glowing light walking around you. Sight fuzzy, you winced as the light fully entered your focus and before you stood a man, radiating light from his crimson and white body. Wings on display, emanating from his back. No further details could be caught though, as you were in too much pain to really pay attention. Despite this though, you had no doubt who this was.

Lucifer.

You were surprised. Always, your imagination had painted the devil as a creature of darkness. Even if he wasn’t a red horned creature, you had expected a creature that radiated evil and smoke. Yet Lucifer stood before you with an almost ethereal glow about him. While there was a certain flame about him, it burned with a cool, almost glorious light.

Well, you had heard someone once say that the devil portrayed himself as a creature of light. Perhaps the brightness of his form should not surprise you. A mask of goodness over his true evil intent. He leans over you, gazing at your half-alive form.

Finally, the devil reaches over to your face, gazing at you with a look that you decide must be curiosity. There is no way that it contains the pity that your mind at first thinks it glimpses. If this is the devil that the group worshiped, then there was no way any sympathy could be found in his eyes. He lowered his hand to your face, causing you to flinch, the pain exploding at your brief movement. Instead of the expected violence though, he caresses your cheek with tenderness.

“Poor little thing. Humans are such fools,” he murmurs, “The way they treat their own is downright atrocious.”

While you would push his touch away if you could, you find it impossible. The pain is too great to bother defying him. It is nothing compared to the torture your body goes through though when he lifts you into his arms. Chipped bones feel as if they are shifting through your sliced muscle and ripped flesh. You feel more blood flowing out of your body, like the lake sand would flow between the cracks in your fingers as a child. Even though you are unable to scream, you must have at least attempted to make some kind of noise as the demon holding you makes an effort to soothe you.

“Sh… It’s all right now,” you heard, “You’re going to be just fine. There’s no need to be afraid.”

It was the last thing you heard before pain consumed your mind and took you from consciousness.

#hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #yandere lucifer morningstar #yandere lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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threelionsgirl · 8 months

Text

karma is my boyfriend| mason mount

part II of better with me

summary: y/n and mason finally arrive in cancun with y/n having to make a serious decision; while trying to understand her feelings for mason warnings: none word count: 1.760 notes: it's been a long time since i've posted anything, this was a sequel that i've been writing for a while, i even thought about posting it on wattpad bc i really like the plot, but i don't know, do you want a sequel? let me know!!! also i wanted to say that english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes, not reviewed (ignore the title too, I couldn't think of anything better

After just over two hours of pure sex with Mason, Y/N had decided that this was the best way to travel by plane, but she wasn't iron either. She was exhausted, and he wasn't much different either. For the rest of the time, realising they had no choice, they silently agreed to raise a peace flag, at least until the plane landed. They were still sharing that small sofa, but decided to put on some warmer clothes while the same blanket covered them. Y/N had discovered that she could occupy the same seat with Mason without fighting with him or fucking him… She hadn't felt that sensation since… Since they were 15, when things started to change between them and a part of her, however small, missed her friend. "So why didn't you break up with him?" Mason asked. They had been talking for a while about trivial things, and that was one of his biggest doubts. The low light and the cold climate made the atmosphere of the plane pleasant for that. He had one arm under her body and his Serbian bicep as a pillow to support her head. "Him who?" "Your boyfriend, Jake." Y/N grimaced as she remembered him. She didn't want to remember him while she was still with Mason, because she knew that cheating on him had been wrong.

"Well, I don't know… He's a nice guy, he treats me well, and I know he loves me." Guilt seemed to consume her even more after saying that, Jake was a nice guy, he didn't deserve what she was doing to him, even though she wasn't sorry. "I guess I was trying to focus on these things, thinking that it would be immature to end a relationship because of sex; Sex shouldn't be the basis of a relationship, and it shouldn't matter so much. I mean, there are people who live just fine without sex, right?" "You're not one of those people, so you're not going to live well that way." He said, and she looked at him, thinking that behind all that arrogance, Mason actually had a thinking brain. "I also agree that it shouldn't be the basis, but sex is fucking important." "You're right, I was just fooling myself. When we get there, I'll give him a call." "To break up?" He asked unassumingly, but with a faint thread of hope running through him. "Yeah, maybe, I guess. I mean, I don't want to hurt him, but I need to tell him I had sex with you. I'm sure he won't be happy to know." She pondered, knowing it would be difficult, but confident that it was the right thing to do. "What about you? Why did you break up with Karen?" She turned sideways to look at him, no longer feeling awkward about having his body so close and wanting to look him in the eye. Mason wanted to pull her around the waist with his other hand and entwine his legs in hers, but somehow it didn't seem right.

"She was suffocating me." He let off steam, remembering how sometimes, or almost always, Karen could be annoying. Mason preferred to summarise the story, the details were too stupid to hold Y/N's attention. "The Euro final was too difficult, and I really didn't want to bring her to Cancún with us." "Hmm." It was the only thing she decided to say, realising that Mason didn't want to prolong the subject any further, and neither did she. Y/N stared at the roof of the plane, listening to the noise of the wind and the engines, the two of them there, it seemed like a parallel reality, and she began to wonder what it would be like when the plane landed. A part of her didn't want things to change because it scared the shit out of her. "Mount?" "What is it, princess?" His eyes were almost closed, but he opened them wide when he heard her voice. "I was serious at the time, let's not tell anyone about it." She said, pointing at him and herself. Mason stopped to think for a moment, in his mind this was the start of something new, but Y/N wasn't really interested in making things change. This fuelled something bitter inside him, so he decided to act the same way.

"I also think it'll be better if they don't know." She shook her head, sure that the subject was closed when he whispered: "So, do you hate me again?" "Wait until the plane lands, now I just want to sleep." Y/N spoke as if sleeping in his arms was the most comfortable place she had ever slept. It made Mason angry, but he couldn't do anything as he watched her eyes grow heavy, as Y/N fell asleep so close to his body. Not while that moment was all he ever wanted.

─────────────

"Look who's finally here? So? How was your trip? I guess you got through it without killing yourselves." Declan laughed as Mason and Y/N got off the plane. They had finally landed, and Y/N's brother decided that he would be the one to meet them at Cancún airport. Y/N couldn't believe it when the plane finally landed. When she woke up on top of Mason, from the window she could see that it was morning, she locked herself in the bathroom and only came out when they were minutes away from landing. It was time to get back to normal, and she had to get ready. She changed her clothes and dressed up as much as possible, trying to look like she hadn't had a hectic night of sex. Y/N left first, coming through the door like a rocket. She stared at Declan with fire in her eyes. Unlike her, he was in a good mood, smiling and wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the beautiful sun. "You're a terrible brother, you know that?" She grumbled, walking past him and handing him her bag to carry. He looked at Mason for answers, Declan thought that Y/N would get so angry that she would storm out of the plane swearing a thousand words and slapping his arm, but she seemed quite calm.

"What's up, bro." He greeted Mason and the two of them started walking side by side, behind Y/N who was a few steps ahead.

"I really thought she'd be angrier, what happened there?" Mason bit the inside of his cheek, flashes of the trip flooded his mind and he remembered every moment with Y/N, but he also remembered the deal they had made not to tell anyone, and that included Declan, so it was inevitable that he would have to lie to his best friend. He looked ahead so that Dec wouldn't notice. "I don't know, I slept the whole journey. Do you know how hard it is to put up with a girl as boring as the princess for so many hours?" "Don't be late next time then!" Dec slapped him on the back, laughing. He had thought he was a genius when he came up with the idea of putting Mason and Y/N on the same plane. That experience must have been the worst for both of them, and he found it amusing. The journey out of the airport was uneventful. They had decided to rent a mansion on the beach instead of staying in a hotel with the excuse of having more privacy. Lauren, Alex and Ben were already there when Dec, Mase and Y/N arrived. They hadn't really done much while waiting for the other two. Their plan was to set aside a few hours to rest and go out in the evening.

The house was big enough for everyone to have their own room, with the exception of Lauren and Declan, who preferred to stay together as expected. Y/N discovered that the last two rooms left were facing each other, which meant that Mason would be her next door neighbour. It was for these reasons that she hated arriving after everyone else. She went to her room to unpack and Alex went to help her so they could talk. The only thing Y/N could think about was taking a nice shower. "So, Y/N, is Jake coming?" Alex asked, throwing herself onto her bed after a while. Y/N was on the floor with her suitcases open, looking for an outfit to wear for the evening. Jake. She hadn't even stopped to think about him because remembering that she had cheated on her boyfriend wasn't the best thought. "I'm going to break up with him." "What? Why?" Alex stood up quickly, surprised. In her mind, Y/N and Jake were the happiest couple in the world, she couldn't imagine that they were facing problems to the point of breaking up. "Do you want me to be honest?" Y/N paused. "He's terrible in bed, and I've realised that I can't live without cumming." "Is that serious?" Alex was dumbfounded. Y/N just thought that she would only be more shocked if she knew that it was Mason who had made her realise all that. But Mason was her secret under lock and key.

"Very serious. I'll finish this" She indicated the clothes in her suitcase. "And call him." "You're going to end a year-long relationship over a mobile phone?" Alex looked sceptical, it was all so sudden. Y/N stood up, pondering. God, she had betrayed him, and now she was going to end it all with a phone call. She was a terrible person. That's for sure. Karma was her boyfriend and would come for her at any moment. "Do you want me to make you come here just to finish?" Either option was terrible. She could also pretend that nothing had happened and carry on with Jake, but that seemed even worse. As well as lying to him, she'd be lying to herself. "It makes sense." Alex agreed. Y/N shrugged and took a towel out of her bag. Through the crack in the door, she saw Mason, shirtless, entering his room, and bit her lip. A few hours later and she was already missing his hot body, but NO, it wasn't going to happen again. Ever.

"You look strange, Y/N." Alex's voice roused her from her thoughts, and Y/N stopped staring at the door, trying to forget that Mason was half-naked next door. "No, I'm not. I'm just… thinking about what we're going to do today." "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but you'll definitely be looking for a guy who can make you come." Alex laughed, walking past her and slapping her on the bum. Y/N sighed and laughed back. Alex had no idea that Y/N had already found this guy, and he was only a door away.

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daisygirlwrites · 2 years

Text

Behind the Wheel

Summary: Times when Ghost's driving (& piloting) gets the team in trouble.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, injuries and drinking (but not really). Mentions of death. Mentions of throwing up.

Pairing(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader (Platonic), Task Force 141 x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1,642

Note: No use of (Y/N)

a/n: hey hey! so sorry that this is late! school just started for me and i've been doing job interviews as well. finally got some time tonight to finish this. sorry if the ending felt rushed, my brain didn't know how to word. might post another fic/headcanons this week though! also, thank you so much for 100 followers! and another thanks to @thoughtfullyhauntedchild for inspiration :3

taglist: @bobfloydsgf

Las Almas

Seeing the truck almost brought tears to your eyes. You were exhausted to say the least, also pissed off with Graves and Shepard and even more that you got shot. It was not your day. But during the darkest hour, that running truck was the ray of light you needed.

After exchanging shots with the remaining Shadows in the area, Ghost rams through the blockade without warning. Still sitting up from covering the men in the front, the forward momentum launches you out of the backseat, body moving towards the already broken windshield.

If it weren’t for Soap's quick reflexes, it would have been the second time you’ve been thrown out the window during a mission. Thankfully he grabs the back of your vest to slow you down. But instead of glass, your face hits the dashboard. The pain was blinding white, tears threaten to spill as Soap pulls you back and you cradle your face in your hands.

You missed Ghost’s eyes widened with shock (and slight amusement) as yours was still closed to stop the tears from leaking out. Soap’s eyebrows furrow with concern as he gently tilts your chin up and carefully slides the balaclava down your face, a chain of "owies" leaving your lips.

“Sorry Lass, I’m just gonna feel if it’s broken, okay?”

“As long as you let me whine about it.”

Using his pointer finger and his thumb, Soap makes small squeezes down your nose. You mutter curses as he does so. “Fuck, dammit! Oh Jesus Christ, shit!” Soap mumbles back apologies, keeping his hand steady as the truck drives through the uneven ground. He pulls back, giving your face another inspection.

“Definitely swelling but nothing feels broken to me.” You give him the okay sign. Moving back to your seat, you gently maneuver your mask back on.

Ghost can feel your eyes burning holes on the back of his head. Maybe he did feel a little bad but it really wasn’t his fault that you slammed your face on the dashboard. He just hopes your nose isn’t broken or else he won’t hear the end of it. But still, he kind of apologizes.

Giving you a glance through the rearview mirror, he acknowledges you. “My bad, Sargent.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes and feeling like this is the most he’s going to say, you let out an audible sigh.

“It’s cool, LT."

Moscow

Whenever the team goes out after missions, you were almost, if not always the designated driver of the group. It started as a “rookie responsibility” but honestly, you liked taking care of others. It reminded you of your college days, dragging your friends back to the dorm building, feeding them goldfish and water before tucking them in bed and leaving them some painkillers for when they wake up. Now, you do the exact same things but with taller military guys that claim to have high tolerance.

However, tonight’s a little different. Nikolai piloted the team to safety and as a thank you, Price promised to buy everyone's drinks. You initially declined the offer but Soap’s question made you reconsider.

“Don’t you wanna try real Russian Vodka?” He grins at you. He watches you open your mouth before closing it, eyes deep in thought. Sensing your hesitation, Soap looks over to their Lieutenant that was in the back of the group.

“Hey LT, can you drive us back tonight?” Soap shouts at him. Ghost narrows his eyes. “Please? Crash has always driven us back!”

Ghost doesn’t respond but you do instead. “Don’t worry about it LT! I won’t drink tonight, I’ll drive everyone to the hotel.”

Soap lets out a whine, disappointed and even Gaz looked a little bummed. Clearly annoyed, mostly with himself for giving into peer pressure (and not wanting to deal with Soap’s bitching for the rest of the night), Ghost lets out a sigh, “Oi, Crash.”

Watching your head turn back at him, he opens his hand. “Keys,” He demanded. You raise an eyebrow at him, silently asking “Are you sure?” He just nods. Fishing the keys out of your pocket, you toss it towards him.

A few hours and many shots later, the group piles back into the SUV. Nikolai sits up in the front passenger seat, giving Ghost slurred directions back to the hotel, while Soap and Gaz laying passed out in the back row. You and Price are in the middle, him telling you a story from his past and you, not really comprehending, nodding along.

The car makes a slight jump when hitting a bump on the road, the movement not helping your stomach. It’s becoming more frequent now, along with the addition of the sharp turns. Looking away from Price and to the driver in front of you, your brain was slow to process what was going on. The bumps continue, eventually waking the two men in the back seat. Even with your hazy mind, you notice a pattern during the beginning chaos. Slide, bump, slide, bump. Glancing out the window to confirm your suspicions, you watch the tires going over every curb you see.

Ghost was annoyed again. Nikolai’s instructions were sudden, therefore making his movements jerky. The safer option is to slow down but Ghost wanted everyone in bed.

“Jesus, Si. The fuck you haulin’ ass for?” He hears your voice call out. "Fuckin' driving like a teenager, hitting curbs and shit."

“The girl is right. Wouldn’t want the police to show up,” Nikolai comments. As if he had been blessed with the gift of prophecy by Apollo himself, Ghost catches the sight of red and blue lights flashing behind him.

“Oh fuckin’ hell."

Swiss Alps

One of the pilots is dead, the other was putting pressure on their arm that was sporting a gunshot wound, the aircraft itself was spinning out of control and you were panicking. Honestly, everyone was panicking but you’re the only one showing it.

“Oh man, why am I forgetting my training for this?” You questioned, mostly to yourself. Price keeps a tight grip on your shoulders, trying to calm you down from your ramblings. Constant beepings and warnings are heard throughout the helicopter. Gaz, already bracing himself while Soap frantically looks around for anything useful.

Ghost, looking unbothered, shoves the body aside and takes a seat. He glances over at the injured pilot. “You’re going to instruct me to land this thing.”

“Crash landing to be more accurate. Look for big snow piles,” They yell out. Ghost nods, grabbing hold of the cyclic and quickly scans for snow mounds. Finding one that looks big enough, he leads the helicopter towards it. It was supposed to be simple, just crash on the fluffy snow and call it a day. However, trying to stabilize a malfunctioning aircraft wasn’t as easy as he thought. Though, upon seeing the pile of safety, he gives out a breath of relief.

Ghost on and off the field is a machine. So when he completely misses the snow mound, he lets out an audible gasp. Along with the loud beeping, Soap and Gaz join’s your screaming.

“HOW DID YOU MISS?! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MISS THE-” Your yelling was the last thing he heard before blacking out.

141 Task Force Base

Waking up in the med bay was something he wasn’t expecting, along with being alive in general. The lights were dim, his eyes adjusting his surroundings quicker. Wiggling his fingers, he was relieved to feel them touch the cotton sheets. Unsure of what injuries he had, Ghost slowly lifts his hand up to his face. He lets out a quiet sigh when he feels the familiar fabric of his balaclava. Suddenly his mind races to his team, to Soap, to you.

The last thing he recalls was blurs of trees and everyone screaming.

“Hey! LT’s awake!” A familiar Scotts voice rings out, followed by someone shushing him and what sounds like a slap on the head.

The lights turn a smidge brighter, as if to not hurt Ghost’s eyes. He watches the team walk into the room, looking a little more rough than usual. His gaze lingers on the shortest member of the group. A couple bandages cover her face, along with a frown. Arms crossed and eyes refusing to meet him.

Price explains to him that after the collision, he, Gaz and Soap had to drag you, him and the other pilot out. And also the helicopter exploded. They watch him run a hand down his masked face.

He looks at you again, “You’re pissed.”

You meet his gaze this time, “No shit.”

Sensing some tension, the team spreads out through the room, not wanting to get in the way but also wanting to see you go off on the Lieutenant.

“Your driving sucks ass, LT! Like Cher from Clueless! Hitting curbs like a teenage girl. Holy fuck, my guy.” You start. All Ghost could do was stare at you, more amused than angry. “You almost broke my nose in Mexico with a freaking break check, I threw up in front of police officers- wasting eighty dollars worth of good vodka! And now this!” You point at your face. “My face is all jacked up!”

That last comment made him chuckle, out of all the things you were concerned about, it was your appearance that mattered. He inspects your face, besides having new scars, everything else looks the same. All he could do was shake his head in disbelief.

“Crash, you are such a girl.” He gives you a smile. You couldn’t see his mouth but his eyes expressed it. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

That comment caught you off guard, feeling heat coming up to your cheeks. You were speechless.

"Also, it really wasn't my fault."

"YES IT IS!"

#daisygirlwrites #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john mactavish #soap mactavish

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