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wolken-himmel · 1 year

Text

In which a strange girl with the same haircut as Lilia appears in the Diasomnia dorm.

It turns out, the mysterious girl is none other than Lilia and (Y/n)'s daughter from the future.

Request by @over-active-daydreamer.

"What is this foul stench, Silver?"

"Must be Lilia cooking again..."

"No way— I was just gone for a few seconds! He better not have messed with my soup... How does one even burn soup?"

Sebek and Silver had their noses scrunched up in utter disgust as they rushed down the hallways of the Diasomnia dorm. Even from kilometres away, one would have been able to follow the potent odor that came from the kitchen. The closer they came to the source of the horrible smell, the more they had to fight against the ourge to collapse.

They only managed to enter the kitchen with their collars raised over their noses. Just as they had feared, a small figure with a dishevelled bob-cut stood by the stove. Seemingly unaffected by the putrid smoke, the culprit continued to stir the overboiling pot.

Silver was the first one to speak up, although his voice was muffled. "Old man, get away from the stove at once," he exclaimed and raised his hand. "I will not hesitate—"

Poor Sebek looked like he was about to cry when the smoke cleared up. "You ruined my soup, Lilia!"

The person whom they thought to be their vice dorm leader let out a little giggle. "Huh? Lilia? That's not my name!" Truly, the stranger's voice was much higher, reminiscent of a teenager girl. A pleased grin appeared on her face. "Must be my hair, eh? I wanted to style it just like Daddy's! I guess the pink streaks look just like his, then. Mommy did a great job with the dye."

"Intruder! Intruder!" Sebek yelled and moved his hand to his baton. "The intruder burnt my soup!"

The girl rolled her eyes before stepping out of the smoke and skipping over to the two Diasomnia students. No wonder they had mistaken her for Lilia — their haircut was identical! Though, her clothing gave her away. She wore a green summer dress instead of a school or dorm uniform. And on closer look, her ears were round, like that of a human.

"Calm down, Sebek... it was just a little bit raw, so I decided to turn up the heat," she said cheekily and held out a bowl of the crusty soup. When she urged him to take it, he almost screamed in fear. His reaction caused her to roll her eyes. "My daddy taught me to cook, you know. I'm not clueless! Just add some lamb sauce if it tastes burnt."

Silver eyed her suspiciously. "How did you get in here and what's your name?"

Upon finally taking notice of him, her eyes lit up in glee. When she threw herself at him and looped her arms around his neck, he was too taken aback to react properly. A series of happy giggles escaped her lips. "Big brother! You're here, too," she chimed happily. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away to shoot him a lopsided grin. "It's nice to see you again! It's been such a long time since you visited us... You're always away on some important royal guard business with the king..."

"The king...?" Silver asked in confusion.

"Yeah! King Mal-Mal. You should tell him to come visit us, too. It's been an eternity since I've seen him."

The boys' minds rattered with thoughts and all sorts of hypotheses on who this girl was. With all the clues they had been given, they were just about to figure out who she was when another figure entered the kitchen.

"What's this amazing smell in here?" the newcomer asked unironically. "My mouth is watering!"

All three of them whipped around to find Lilia waltzing in without a care in the world. He didn't seem to take notice of the mysterious girl with how his gaze seemed fixated on the soup pot. However, he was forced to acknowledge her presence when she jumped at him and enveloped him in a bear-hug.

"Daddy! You're here!" she exclaimed joyfully. "Would you like some of my soup?"

Lilia furrowed his eyebrows. "Huh? Who are you?" he asked in amusement. A bout of laughter escaped his lips when he noticed her hair style. The corners of lips twisted upwards into a giant grin. "I like your hair, stranger."

"Silly you!" she muttered and rolled her eyes. "It's me, Aurum— your daughter."

The sudden revelation had the vice dorm leader frozen at first, and even Silver and Sebek's unanimous gasps wouldn't make him budge. The only visible movement from him were his eyes that looked the girl up and down. He tilted his head to the side when he could sense no falseness in her words.

"I have a daughter? That's news to me," Lilia muttered calmly. He began stroking his chin. "I've seen a lot of strange things... but even this is newfoundland for me."

"Oh— right, Mommy and you aren't together yet!" A mischievous grin appeared on the girl's face as she clasped her hands together. "You should hurry up with confessing, really. You always told me about all these other guys that had a crush on Mommy. Better not let them win, eh? My life is on the line here."

It was then that Lilia's eyes lit up, the confusion vanquished. "Hm, so you're a time traveller! Everything makes sense now."

"No, nothing makes sense!" Sebek grumbled, still as confused as in the beginning.

With a newfound fondness, Lilia wrapped an arm around her and began laughing. "Your company delights me, Aurum. Why don't you tell me more about the future?" he asked curiously. "About your mother, to be precise."

"Oh, I would love to— but I think I need some fresh air..." A yawn escaped her lips as she gestured to the door. She flashed her father a sheepish smile before worming her way out of his grip. "Time travel can be so insanely exhausting..."

Lilia hummed softly. "Can I get you anything, Aurum?"

"Yeah, a younger sister would be nice. Thanks."

The three Diasomnia students found themselves entirely caught off-guard by the casual tone of her request. Of course, Lilia was the first one to snap out of it when uncontrollable laughter escaped his throat. He could barely stop himself, especially when he glanced upon the shocked expressions of his fellow dorm members. So caught up in his amusement, he didn't notice as you entered just when Aurum was about to leave.

And as fate wanted it, the two of you bumped into one another.

"Oh— sorry, I didn't see you there," you apologised at once. When your eyes fell upon her hair, an aloof smile appeared on your lips. A little chuckle escaped your lips. "Hey, I like your hair!"

"Thanks, Mommy! You did a great job dyeing it." The girl shot you an affectionate smile before walking past you.

Your jaw sank down upon having comprehended her words properly. Even after she had disappeared from your view, you still continued to stare after her. "What... was that?" you asked the trio of Diasomnia students after a while. "And what's up with Lilia?"

Lilia could barely contain his joy at Aurum's implications. At once, he began pacing back and forth, mumbling all sorts of things to no one but himself. An eternally pleased smile appeared on his lips. "I've lived a long life, and I always thought that nothing fate could throw at me would surprise me anymore. But to think that so much more happiness awaits me— oh, fate, you sly bastard... perhaps you will triumph over me, after all."

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #female reader

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angelst4re · 1 year

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heyy!! so I was wondering if you could do a like a oneshot of being enemies with jace and him teasing you about liking him and then it ending with him eating the reader out?? IM SO SORRY ITS VERY SPECIFIC LMFOOAOAOAOOA 💀💀

hi love!! ahh i had so much fun writing this!! i was tired when i wrote this so i got a bit carried away at the end and kinda turned this into an enemies to lovers... but i hope you like it!!

Heavenly Fire- Jace x Fem!Reader (he has too many last names.)

summary: in the request!

warnings: NSFW!! smut! porn with minimal plot... oral (f recieving)(jace is the king of giving head), fingering, first time(?), but no actual sex </3

notes: i couldn't think of a title for this :( fun fact: my shower isn't working right now that is what inspired me to write this! also i feel like i nailed jace's personality in this one, i always find it hard when i'm writing for jace because of his personality but this one...

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“God! Do you ever shut up?!” You turned around to Jace, who was following you towards the kitchen as Isabelle had just made lunch.

“Now, I know I’ve been called heavenly, but a God? I’ve not heard that before.” He teased, earning an evil stare from you.

“What are you talking about?” Isabelle asked, placing some bowls on the table of what appeared to be soup?

“Jace is being a-“

“Y/n confessed her everlasting love to me, we’re getting married next week, I better go and inform Alec and Magnus-“

“Oh shut up, Jace! You know I don’t like you!” You gave Jace a shove before you sat down at the table. He snickered as he sat down opposite you, clearly happy with your reaction.

“Keep telling yourself that, love.” He said under his breath before Isabelle joined the two of you at the table.

There was no denying Jace was attractive, it was almost annoying how he always looked perfect. His perfect blonde hair and his perfect eyes and his perfect smirk and his perfect body- But that wasn’t why you hated him. You hated him because he was such an asshole all the time. He knew he was good looking, and he was overly confident- or so it seemed to you. He never had an issue when it came to one night stands, but you noticed he could never hold down a relationship. You would never see him with the same girl more than once, sometimes twice on the odd occasion. Even you had longer relationships than that (although Isabelle would say being together for 5 days didn’t count as a relationship.)

After finishing the soup Izzy had made, you gave Jace one last glance before standing up and placing your bowl by the sink.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After a long day of training, it was no surprise that you were sweaty and needed a shower. So, naturally, you headed to your bathroom, locked the door and began to undress. But there was a problem.

Your shower wasn’t working.

You sighed and stepped back out, taking your robe which was hanging up by the door and slipping it on, tying it up, and unlocking the bathroom door again.

You hoped that Isabelle would let you use her bathroom, as the spare bathrooms were tiny and quite frankly disgusting. But as you got closer to her room, you could hear music being played, and as you put your ear to the door you heard not only Isabelle’s voice but also Simon’s. You quickly dismissed this idea.

But that meant you only had one more option. Jace.

Alec was most probably at Magnus’ apartment, so you could use his shower- but you wouldn’t want to do so without asking him first. So you had no other choice.

You felt a strange buzz of anxiety in your belly as you knocked on Jace’s door, all you wanted to do was have a shower, there’s nothing to be anxious about!

As he opened the door, you were met with a shirtless Jace, his hair damp and slightly wavy, his-

“Come to discuss our wedding, love?” He teased you, eyeing you up and down, trying to figure out if you were actually wearing anything beneath your robe. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and shook your head.

“Jace, look, my shower isn’t working and Izzy has Simon over. I didn’t want to have to bother you but-”

“You want to take a shower with me? Without taking me to dinner first? Wow-”

“No, no! I meant, I- You-” You suddenly became quite flustered, unable to think of anything other than the sight of him in the shower, hair dripping, the way the water would fall on his body- Stop! You were sure you were blushing now, and as you looked back up at him, he confirmed it with a devilish smirk.

“What’s got you so pink in the face, sweetheart? I thought you hated me?” He taunted you, and you couldn’t take it any more. The throbbing between your thighs was becoming almost painful as you wrapped your arms around his neck and captured his lips with yours in a needy kiss. You couldn’t help but think about what this would do to his ego. He was going to become unbearable to live with, but in the moment you couldn’t help yourself. He was so fucking hot, you could never truly hate him.

You pushed him backwards a little, so you were both in his room with the door shut. If Isabelle saw the two of you right now, she would never shut up about it, telling you I told you so. You always denied your feelings towards Jace, hiding them with hatred, and he always expressed his feelings through teasing you, causing you to ‘hate’ him even more.

Quickly, you pull away from Jace before he had the chance to rest his hands on your waist.

“Oh, fuck!” You hid your face with your hands, turning away from Jace. You were such an idiot.

“What is it? Did I do something wrong, I-” Jace genuinely seemed confused, and quite panicked by your sudden change in attitude.

“No. Well, actually, yes you have. You’re such an asshole, Jace. But I can’t help every time I see your perfect fucking face, or your… What I’m trying to say is this was a mistake. I-” You were shut up by lips crashing into yours once more, this time more passionate than the last. His hand cupped your face as the other held your waist, leading the two of you closer and closer towards the bed. He must have seen the way your eyes were so lust-blown only a few moments ago, as his hand creeped towards the place where your robe was tied, and within seconds it had fallen to the floor.

You would have felt nervous, even anxious about your body being on display like this, especially in front of Jace as he pulled away from the kiss, but as soon as you saw the way he was looking at you, your worries disappeared. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes half-lidded, his chest rising and falling as his breathing became heavier.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his hand gently placed on your shoulder. He slid it down your body, touching you for the first time. He gently caressed your breasts, massaging the soft flesh as small whimpers left your lips and your eyes fell shut. He took a moment to toy with your nipples, and that was when you let out an almost pornographic moan. At that, he dropped to his knees, his hand sliding down your torso until it rested just above your cunt.

He placed kisses along your thighs before looking up at you, as if asking for permission. You eagerly nodded your head, you desperately needed him to touch you.

He moved slightly and took one of your legs, lifting it over his shoulder to put your slick pussy on full display for him. He parted your lips with two fingers, before leaning in and swiping his tongue along your clit. The action was so sudden that your knees buckled beneath you, so he moved once more and pushed you down onto the bed. As your back fell onto the mattress, he pulled you closer to him so your knees were hanging off his bed. Then, he resumed his attack on your clit.

“Oh fuck! Jace!” You groaned, slapping one hand over your mouth and tangling the other in his hair as he ate you out.

He sucked you clit between his lips, earning a string of moans to fall from your lips, and that’s when he decided to trace his finger over your hole, before replacing it with his thumb. He eased the tip of his thumb in before pulling it out again, watching as your hole pulsed, begging for more.

Without any warning, he slipped his middle finger into you and curled it upwards in a ‘come here’ motion as he continued sucking, lipping and nipping at your clit. Your back arched and your legs wrapped around the man between your thighs, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

“Shh, it’s okay, angel. Think you can take another one?” He teased, bringing a second finger to your entrance.

Jace had assumed you were a virgin, and he was right. However, he knew you had touched yourself before. Occasionally, you would think you were home alone and your hand would travel between your thighs, small moans and whimpers would fall from your lips as Jace passed by your room. It took all his strength to simply walk past, especially when you would moan his name.

He slipped the second finger in, and you felt that familiar feeling in your belly. However, this time it felt ten times stronger. You were worried that you would actually explode when you reached your high.

“I know you’ve been wanting this, angel. Coming undone on my fingers, my tongue. Pretending you hate me, but I could see straight through you. I knew all along you were just a little slut, isn’t that right? I knew just how jealous you would get whenever a girl would come home with me, just how angry it would make you. But it’s okay, they never meant anything,” his thumb replaced his mouth on your clit as he spoke, and his words went straight to your core, “I knew all along you wanted to be my girl. Cum for me and I’ll make your wish come true, cum on my fingers, darling, I know you’re close.

Just as your orgasm washed over you and your thighs began to tremble, Jace leaned down and captured your lips with his. You couldn’t help but moan against his lips, followed by strings of profanities as his fingers continued to pump inside you, working through your high. You had never felt so… wonderful. You were gasping for air but Jace’s lips were still on yours, you could even taste yourself on his tongue.

You wrapped both of your arms around him and held him close, hoping he would lie by your side when you finally came back to reality. However, he escaped from your arms and went into the bathroom to retrieve a soft, damp cloth to clean you up with.

“Stay still for me, darling.” He chuckled as he spread your legs to clean up your messy cunt, but your thighs kept pressing together. However, he managed to clean you up and threw the cloth to the corner of the room, to a pile of clothes that needed washing.

He helped you up the bed, so your head was against the pillows, and lied beside you, pulling you close to him in a warm embrace as your head rested on his chest.

He stroked your bare back, causing you to shiver slightly as it tickled, which seemed to amuse Jace.

“So what does this mean?” You asked, moving your head to look up at Jace who was sitting against the headboard, one arm behind his head.

“What does what mean?”

“Everything you said, about being yours?”

Jace took a moment to think, and you were filled with a sudden panic that he didn’t mean what he said, that it just felt right in the moment.

“You can use my shower, sweetheart. When you’re finished, get changed into something nice, or not- but I don’t think you’d want to wear leggings and a hoodie on your first date.” He said, a smirk creeping up on his lips.

“Are you, the Jace Herondale- who never dates- asking me out on a date?”

“No, I’m not asking you,” he chuckled, playing with your hair, “darling, I’m telling you.”

#jace wayland smut #jace wayland #jace herondale smut #jace lightwood #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower #jace wayland x reader #jace herondale x reader #jace morgenstern #city of bones #shadowhunters

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middlechild404 · 9 months

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Taking care of sick Jack

Summary: You come home to find a sick jack laying on your couch and you can't help yourself from trying to take care of him.

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I walked in through the front door expecting to be alone in my apartment, but instead, was met by a wide figure that was sprawled on my couch. I was treading lightly, because he didn't seem to move when I closed the door, meaning he was sound asleep.

I didn't expect to find him here because it had been a while since we'd seen each other last. Technically, we lived together in my apartment but he still stayed at his apartment most days because it was closer to the studio.

Having him in my space was still a bit unfamiliar, due to the short amount of time he has had the keys. Aside from the unfamiliarity, I still felt the fuzzy feeling at the pit of my stomach whenever he was here.

My hands went unconsciously toward his hair as I was towering over him. I could feel the heat radiating off from his body as my palm touched his forehead.

"Jack.." I whispered, trying to wake him up.

He only moaned and turned to his side, not giving me an answer. I started rubbing his back, continuing my attempt to wake him up. At last, he slightly opened one of his eyes to look at me.

“You're burning up” I stated. “How are you babe?” I questioned worriedly.

“I don't know, I don't feel so good.” He said, trying to get up.

I quickly pushed his shoulders down, insisting that he needed to rest. He didn't fight against it as his eyes closed once his head touched one of the pillows that was on the couch. I swiftly went to the main bedroom and brought a comforter to cover him with.

I've never been a great caregiver due to my many failed prior relationships and my mom continuously preaching “the world is female” throughout my upbringing. My mother didn't take my dad leaving us lightly, therefore she had sworn that she would never prioritize a man's needs over her own. That's something she's been trying to drill in my head ever since I was a kid, attempting to teach me about being independent.

Independent, was a word I'd easily use to describe myself. Although, being independent doesn't mean not helping the people you love, which is something my mother would never let into her thick head.

I had this heart wrenching feeling of worry. All I wanted was for Jack to feel better. Therefore I summoned my non-existent talent of cooking and followed a recipe of tomato soup i'd saved on instagram. While the soup was boiling on the stove, I put some garlic bread in the oven.

When everything was ready and I had poured the soup in a bowl I made my way to the living room, setting everything on the table in front of the sofa.

“Babe.. Wake up. I've made you some soup.” I said as my fingers were playing with his curls.

As he was eating away at the food that I'd made, I walked up to find some ibuprofen to bring down his fever and prepare a concoction with tea, ginger and honey that I found on google.

When coming with everything, he had managed to lick the plate clean. He was now leaning back against the sofa and looking up at the ceiling. I interrupted his thoughts when I placed everything on the table. He gave me a gracious smile as he downed the pill and water.

I encouraged him to lie down on the sofa again as I took the remote and put on his favorite show “Succession”. He grabbed the tea and gave me a scrunched look as he took a sip.

“What is this? poison?” he asked with a look of disgust.

“Haha yes, but the good kind.” I winked as he laughed at my remark.

I motioned for him to lift his head so I could sit down on the couch. His head was now in my lap as I kept going through his hair with my fingers, with succession on the TV. All I could think about was that I could do this forever. I couldn't help myself from smiling and looking down at his face. He eventually noticed me staring, which made him look up at me with a tired grin.

“Thank you for taking care of me, there is no other place I'd rather be right now than in your arms. I love you babe.” He said lovingly.

“I love you too.” I answered while my cheeks were hurting due to the grin my face made at his words.

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I know that it's been a while lovies, hope you like this one! I have had a few hectic months but I'm back now so stay tuned for more content❤️❤️

Taglist: @jackharloww , @j-worlds-blog @itsyagirljaz , @harlowcomehome , @neon-lights-and-glitter

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow stories #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow imagines #jackharlow #sickfic #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing

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garagesesh · 5 months

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wintering

② looking at the feeling of an empty room

gif: alicenthightowerdaily ↸

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen & (f!)reader

summary: silence is a weapon and patience is a virtue. or otherwise known as aegon doesn’t know how to express feelings.

warning(s): typical aegon being a lil shit, swearing, blood, sexual content

a/n: !!!this story will not be told in chronological order!!! If you're wondering why you're now in kings landing. this story is not written as a reader insert but as an OC on my ao3 if you find that format more enjoyable, it's linked below! please be kind, I'm trying to get back into writing after a long sabbatical. I would love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘

⌘ you can find this on my ao3 account!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　　

The stables smelled of horse shit. It was overwhelming, nauseating, but dragon shit smells worse.

Hanging the tack in the stall, giving your horse a brush and an apple you had taken from the kitchens, a reward for the hard, long ride along the bay on an unusual damp day in King’s Landing.

With your hair soaked and clothes drenched, you slung off your bow and quiver as you entered back into the Red Keep. Running down the stairs, looking for something to warm you up. The kitchens smelled divine, as you waltz through, serving yourself a bowl of whatever soup they had simmering in the hearth.

"My Lady." The cooks bowed their heads, annoyed by your presence in their bustling galley, preparing meals and displays for lunch and later, dinner for the many that lived within these walls.

After finishing the last drop of what you know now as potato and leek soup, you caught a whiff of yourself. Disgusted by your own stench, it was decidedly time for your bath.

"My Lady." Ser Marbrand, found you on the stairs to your chambers. Giving him the afternoon off from his duties, something you weren't supposed to be doing at all of course but you didn't need him following you while on horseback.

"Ser Marband." You smiled at the bald knight. "Are you well rested?"

"Yes, my Lady." He laughed, his armor clinked together as he descended the stairs just a few steps below you.

"I'm sorry I smell."

"That's quite alright, my Lady." You couldn't hold back your laughter, amused by the knight's honesty and lack of beating around the bush with pleasantries.

The invitation waited for you in your chambers. The sigil of the golden dragon, Aegon’s personal seal, was melted in a mere perfect circle, that you knew his unsteady, uncaring hands could not produce.

The Queen, no doubt.

Tearing the wax off the paper and unraveling the message, you had your answer.

The swirling cursive and vocabulary used was not of his own. His was chicken scratch, like that of an illiterate or drunk.

You couldn’t blame the Queen for trying.

To try and have you at least come to respect each other. Build an understanding between the two of you before you stood in front of the Seven and spoke promises of devotion, of love for the rest of your lives.

That fate was only a few moons away.

If a dinner schemed by the Queen could build some inkling of respect, then you couldn't argue with the prospect, though you had no hope that it would achieve anything.

In the past three years of your tenure at the Red Keep, Aegon and you had done nothing but argue, constantly at each other's throats. Words fired at each other that were meant to kill, only amplified by his seemingly constant inebriation.

Other times you teetered on thoughts of actually killing him and running away back home to the North, where you’d be welcomed a hero by your brothers.

You're sure he's thought of permanently washing his hands of you as well. The Targaryen’s were not above killing their partners, it was well known that Daemon had done exactly that to poor Rhea Royce.

You're reminded of the single time he had brought you on Sunfyre. Another one of Alicent's schemes to get you to bond.

It was no secret within the walls of the Red Keep that the green Queen was not above discipling her own children.

You had before heard Alicent scold Aegon behind closed doors. Whether it be for his excessive drinking, whoring, or about you yourself.

This invitation was most likely a result of a discussion between the mother and son.

Sighing, you folded the paper in half, dropping it on the desk. Frustrated and tired of it.

"Jeyne!" You removed your gloves and unlatched the silver dragon's head belt, draping it across the chair. The black and gold riding coat fell to the floor in a puddle of muddy fabric. It had rained during your ride, cementing mud on all parts of you.

Furs, browns, greys, blues were swapped for blacks, reds, greens, golds. No longer permitted to wear anything of Northern symbolism by the court.

The young maid came into the room, her head bowed, hands clasped in her apron. "Yes, my Lady?"

"Draw me a bath, please." Untwisting the braid in your hair, you smiled at the petite girl. “The lavender soaps tonight, Jeyne.”

You entered the milky steaming tub, dunking your head under the lavender swirls of water. Letting the warmth soothe you before dinner.

You wondered what Aegon had gotten up to this day, genuinely curious if the man had actually gotten up before high noon. Did he stumble in from Silk street early? Or did he ride Sunfyre? You doubt it, not seeing other dragons in the sky other than the behemoth that was Vhagar.

Falling asleep in the tub, you dreamt of home.

It wasn't until the sun had gone down when one of the maids had beckoned you for dinner. Being led to Aegon's solar, you waited alone for him. The minutes ticked by, a half a candle burned before the door leading from his chamber had ricocheted off the adjacent wall, announcing the Prince's arrival.

“Aegon.” You smiled, standing from your seat to curtsy. “Thank you for inviting me to dine with you.”

“I didn’t.” His chair screeched as it dragged across the stone floor. Unceremoniously, dropping himself into it. His head lolled back against the backing, his indigo eyes closing.

“I didn’t think so.” You mumbled, sinking back into the leather seat.

This was going to be a long evening.

“How was your day?” Trying to muster some sort of energy in the room. “I haven’t seen you the majority of this week.”

“I was busy.” Ever so curt.

“Okay.”

He reached for his cup, settling back into his chair and after a pregnant pause, his mouth moved again in a low grumble. “My day was fine.”

“Anything of interest?”

He cleared his throat, sitting upright in his seat. “Nothing really.”

You popped a grape in your mouth, tasting the sweet juice on your tongue. “I’m sure there’s something.”

He reached for the fruit as well. Examining the small plump fruit in between his index and his thumb. “I went to some mummers show."

“Oh?” Maybe you will get somewhere tonight. “Are you interested in music? Theater perhaps?"

“Music." He was surprising you, with his willingness to talk to you with something other than spite and bitterness. "Good music.”

“Like?”

Aegon, however was uncomfortable, he hadn’t been asked these sorts of things before, none by you either. He couldn’t categorize which music he liked versus what he didn’t and he certainly didn’t know how to convey that to you.

So instead he got angry.

“I don’t fucking know.” He sneered.

Here you went again. Repressing the urge to snap back, raise your voice an octave where he had was proving harder than you'd admit. “It was only a question.”

“Well stop with the idiotic interrogations then."

"It wasn't an idiotic question."

"Most of the shit that you spew out of that mouth is idiotic." He swallowed more wine, but he wasn't finished. "I dream of not marrying a barbaric idiot like you!"

"For Gods sake, Aegon!" Jaw clenching, your fingernails pierced the insides of your palm. "I get it! You don't want to marry me and I don't want to marry you either, but we are stuck, Aegon!"

You were absolutely exhausted of this argument.

An argument that was never ending. For the past three years you have done nothing but speak of anything else. You, not wanting to marry him and he not wanting to marry you. Back and forth, a wheel that kept spinning.

"We are two ends to a prophecy that your father believes us able to fulfill. Means to an end for him!"

“You mean a cunt to whelp my children.”

Your mouth opened with equally venomous words dripping on your tongue but instead took a deep breath, choosing to lay down your weapons instead.

You’ve had your fair share of words with each other over the years, but this by far hurt the most. He was cruel, you knew, but you didn’t know that he could be that cowardly.

He could have his whores. His bastards. His crates of wine and liquor. Hell, he could drink, whore, and feast himself to an early grave if he really wanted, you didn’t care.

But you stayed unmoving in your chair, unwavering in your eye contact with him. Challenging him with your silence, bringing a new battle strategy to your battlefield.

Aegon was a statue in his own chair, limbs laying inert. His hand frozen around the stem of his goblet, choking it as he waited for you to bite back with words.

You would not give him the satisfaction this time. This is what you refused the rest of your life to be.

A drunken coward that insulted to make you a fool.

Grabbing your cup, and pouring the rest of the arbor red down your throat in one swallow. Feeling the trickle of the alcohol down into your esophagus, patiently waiting for the buzz to come to your already clouded mind.

“Willa, another.” You held the cup out for the plump maid to fill, this time taking only a sip before turning back to your boar.

Aegon watched you, his frame still bent over in his seat in anticipation, observing your every move. On edge, waiting for you to reach out with your wolf claws and slash him to pieces.

But you continued to eat your meal, savoring the boar and the potatoes. The carrots were excellent, you had determined. Fish, shellfish, pheasant and grouse were laid on the table, making sure to sample each. You finished another cup, ordering a third. Dessert was your favorite, lemon cakes, pudding, fruit. You exclaimed her absolute appreciation for the meal.A fourth cup of wine was poured into the cup, but you made sure to savor this last one.

Admittedly you were slightly drunk.

Aegon had eaten nothing, drank nothing, said nothing.

Just stared through all the courses.

“Thank you for inviting me, Aegon. I hope you’ve enjoyed the same.” She yawned, stretching your sore arms above your head. “I’ve had a long day.”

You took your time rising out of the chair. Taking meticulous care to wipe your stained lips of the red wine. You undid the braid in your hair, smiled at the Prince one last time and then exited through the waiting open door.

With the slam of the door, he glanced away from the empty seat to the floor.

The servants began to clear the table of the now cold food. He reached for the bottle of wine before the servant who was barely of age could take it away. Glowering at the boy who dared looked him in the eyes.

“Get out.” He ordered the servants, their mere presence stoking the fire within him.

They muttered apologies, working rapidly at the mess. Trying to get out of his way. He rolled his eyes, they stung with annoyance, rage. Fires now ablaze in his violet eyes.

How dare you?

How dare you.

His chair wailed across the stone tiles and onto the ground terrifying the servants. Aegon swiped his arm, silverware, platters, fruit clattered to the floor in his anger, his hand cut on a knife. Fire spewed. “I said get out! All of you!”

His hand pounded against the table smearing it with thick crimson liquid that oozed out of his palm in slow heavy drops.

He grabbed the bottle of wine from the floor. Opening it and forwent the cup itself, drinking the entirety of the contents directly into his mouth. The wine, usually a sedative for him, did nothing. It only made him angrier, he was livid heaving over the table in rapid breaths.

“Fuck!”

He threw the empty bottle on the floor. The green glass splintering off into a million little pieces at his feet, glistening in the candlelight like bloody snowflakes. Like the leaves on the Weirwood trees.

The door into his private chambers slammed closed, the wrought iron door handle banging on the wood.

Anger, confusion, foolishness, desire wrapped up his entire being.

His hands tore off his doublet, half hard, and lungs still desperate for air. He felt like he was being choked, fingers clawing at his own neck. Blood, his blood, smearing upon his throat. Half naked and stumbling in the dark, his knee found the bed frame, pain shooting in all directions of his leg.

“Fuck!” Fuck you, you were slowly killing him inside and spending the last three years trying to ignore you, disgust you, rebuff you had felt like it had just come crashing down upon him in some sort of silent retribution for his attempts.

His world became dim and hazy, half-conscious from the alcohol and blood. Suddenly, figures stepped into the moonlight that poured onto his balcony. A white dress, a woman looking out into the bay.

“Prince Aegon?” Ser Arryk, with his sword drawn and panic in his eyes, came upon Aegon half-naked on his bed in a bloody pool. His unattended and forgotten hand was still spewing from the glass and staining his silk sheets with maroon.

“Are you alright?” His voice boomed with worry, “Prince Aegon!”

Aegon’s eyes met Ser Arryks, “Get a Maester, you fuck.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘

⌘ you can find this on my ao3 account!

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my begging for rain series! ✦

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #fanfic #wintering #this isnt the best im sorry lol #aegon ii targaryen

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blueberrypancakesworld · 5 months

Text

My broken Angel - Gage x fem!reader

warning : drug use, use of mommy/ma'm, emotional, angst, hurt/comfort, smutish, blood, emotional breakdown, no use of Y/n, afab reader

Summary : A call that had saved him and his colleague Gage was free. But free from the old building did not mean free from the addiction and the day. He needed someone, he needed his girlfriend to take care of him and relieve him of any pain.

Info : It's been far to long since I have wrote something for Rory's characters and today say hello to Gage from Bullet Head a newcomer in my masterlist but my sweet angel. No seriously he is so inspirational just by looking at him OMG. So anyways have fun reading and I hope you Rory lovers have found your way back here ;)

Ps : I tried to look the movie online obviously not illegal but somehow my internet was like ,,No-No-No we don't do that here". So I only had a scene pack on youtube, edits and trailer of the movie to get his charcter/personality. I hope despite it I wrote him good.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong. A break-in, it was just a damn break-in, a robbery and not something that should scale. At least that's what the three of them thought, it was supposed to be simple and not the possible end of their careers.

But in the end it was a nightmare the dog was not the man's friend the dog who tried to kill them the police and the men from the illegal dog fight they all tried to get them. If a call hadn't gone through, if one more thing hadn't happened.

If Gage hadn't been successful in calling his girlfriend, they would never have gotten out of here. She could tell by the trembling of his voice that he was stammering slightly and was nervous that something was wrong.

,,Just wait as best you can, I'll be right there," she had exclaimed into the cell phone for fear he wouldn't hear before she had rushed into the car to drive to the place. Her fear grew by the minute.

She didn't approve of his robbery, didn't approve of his secret, didn't approve of what he was doing. And yet her own job was not enough with his to pay any bills.

It was necessary, and although he was so fragile when you broke him, he sacrificed himself for her. ,,I'll-I'll take any job for you," he had once said as he gently pulled her into his arms.

His blue eyes showed truth and yet she saw the fear that he knew was dangerous. Saw that he was full of fear of the world, he would stay with her and would prefer to stay in her arms.

Ever since they had met, she had given him a bowl of soup at the food bank, something like dependency had developed between them. She was his anchor, his everything. And he would do anything for her so as not to lose her, but he would do just as much for his addiction.

She had seen it at first, the twitching, the nervousness, his diminished eye contact. But the worst was when she found him in her bathroom with the needle next to him, the oozing blood flowing from his arm and the tear-stained look on his face.

She didn't feel disgust or revulsion, she felt devotion. She called him angel from then on. Since then he was the image of a broken angel. The black hair, the bright blue eyes, the self-harm in the form of addiction.

He was so fragile that she believed that if she left him he would kill himself, that he saw no point in giving up, that he was so scarred by life. And yet she let him do his business, relying on his colleagues to make sure everything went well. Until now.

Now she raced through the streets in her car towards the building, knowing that all she had to do was open the door and get out, but she didn't know what she would find.

Please just be complete,she pleaded inwardly, thinking back to that evening. As she slowly knelt down to him, she picked up the needle and looked at it.

Saw the drop of the drug, saw how the heroin had to go through his body. ,,I'm...so-sorry," she had heard him murmur as he opened his eyes, saw him looking at her and felt her heart beat faster.

She knew it was wrong that she wasn't disgusted and angry. But she wasn't angry like she should be, her anger came from the worry that he would die one day.

But before she let this coldness of punishment out on him or even let it get to him, she felt his cold, slightly trembling hand on hers. How he tried powerlessly to move up slightly to get closer to her. ,,You're just so... helpless," she replied, making it sound like a statement she was right to make.

He didn't speak back, just nodded silently and cuddled her almost pleadingly in her arms. He knew that she would always take him in and catch him. That she wouldn't leave him, wouldn't hit him, wouldn't be brutal like his father.

She was almost like a mother and was only too willing to blur this reality. ,,My helpless Gage, you'll never do it for me again, will you?" she asked, putting her arms around him. She could feel him looking at her, taking his head off her shoulder and moving closer to her.

He wanted to kiss her but she used her hand to gently grip his jaw. ,,I promise, I'm sorry...Mommy," he said, tears gathering in his blue eyes before she released him and he gave her a sloppy kiss before he fell limply back into her arms.

And all this while the little trickle of blood ran from his arm. The first time he had called her that she had accepted that he needed it.

She would not let him fall apart in this world. That was the first time she had ever seen him so ready. And now? ,,How do I find you now?" she asked into the car when she finally arrived at the building.

Getting out of the car and trying to find an entrance, the situation soon revealed itself, a dead getaway driver, Gage's colleagues suspiciously quiet, the sound of a dog barking what almost seemed like a farewell and then she saw him. ,,Gage! You're alive!" she shouted when she saw the black-haired man who seemed to be hiding behind the two older men.

,,Hello dear," he mumbled and lowered his gaze, not wanting her to see him like this, but the blood that had flowed from his nose was already dripping and he couldn't get rid of it without water. Besides, the pain and the smell of metal distracted him from the addiction that was raging inside him.

,,Your nose is bleeding," she realized with fear and carefully grasped his face, looking left and right to see if he still had anything. Every further bruise and every scratch and scrape made her heart ache even more.

,,It's...nothing," he said, mumbling, knowing that the other two wanted to go home, away from this place, that his friend was the thing that separated them from freedom. He gently took her hand, it was cold, and she saw his smile, saw through it, knew he was suffering.

The sigh that left her lips made him slightly sincere. Wordlessly, she squeezed his hand and gave him a look that could best be interpreted as one of concern before she opened the car and they all got in.

The engine started and they drove away from this terrible place. It was quiet between the four of them, no one said anything, no one dared or wanted to.

They had all experienced too much to want to dwell on it. She saw in the rear-view mirror that the two older ones were looking out of the window, their thoughts still completely elsewhere.

If he had died, I would have blamed you, she thought, her hands tightening around the leather of the steering wheel. His colleagues were the reason why he was now almost slumped over in the passenger seat.

His hands folded on his lap, she saw him trying to rub off the excess skin on the sides. The blood was still on him and he just looked completely wiped out. ,,It's going to be okay," she said softly and put her hand on his thigh for a moment. She felt him flinch and his gaze went to her.

The broken angel. She saw again the angel she loved and cared for. ,,It will be," he replied almost appathetically and squeezed her hand lightly, a touch that could almost have been an illusion. But she had felt it, she was there. He was with her again.

The car journey, which dragged on for a few minutes, only ended when the two of them were no longer in the car. The colleagues had been gone for a long time and they had closed the front door of the apartment behind them.

When she heard his almost vulnerable sounds as they walked up the stairs to the apartment. She saw him getting more and more lost and as the front door closed, tears flowed down his cheeks. ,,Gage...it's okay, I'm here...it's over," she said instantly and put the front door key aside, taking him by the hand, hearing him try to say something but it came out slurred under his crying.

She pulled him behind her on the way to the bathroom, the white streams in contrast to his blood and the blue of his eyes standing out against the dark charcoal black hair.

,,Don't...don't go," he said clearly, holding her firmly by the wrist as she sat him on the edge of the bath. He seemed completely out of it, distraught, traumatized, and partly because of the drugs, at least that much she guessed.

Leaning down to him, she gently stroked his dark hair and heard his suppressed whimper as his blue eyes turned to her. ,,I'm not going Mommy is just getting a towel okay?" she asked knowing it wasn't really a question. Gage knew inside himself that she was the one in control.

But he should still give his understanding to his inner self. Because a dangerous angel on earth could break at any time. Her gaze met his and her eyes detached themselves from the blood.

Showing him that she wasn't lying, she felt his grip tighten for a moment, he didn't want to be without her. Before he nodded slightly and gave a soft, ,,Okay ma'm" before letting go of her, his hand landed powerlessly on his leg and he remained sitting on the edge of the tub.

She calmly moved away from him, knowing that nothing would happen, and walked with unerring steps into the kitchen to fetch a towel and return as promised.

Saw how he exhaled shakily with relief when he saw her again, that she hadn't left him, that he wasn't just imagining her through the heroin. ,,Don't be alarmed, I'll wipe the blood off. Everything will be all right again in a minute," she said gently and gave him a small, warm smile.

She knew that he needed her, that she was everything to him, that her angel was everything to her. She took the cloth and held it under lukewarm water before she carefully began to dab away the blood and then rub it.

What at first only led to a wince became a plea and whimper after she rubbed it. ,,Shhh I know I know," she said slightly warningly, feeling his hands on her side as he held on almost convulsively, seemingly unable to bear the pain.

She knew exactly what pain. ,,I just need you - I need you," he stammered, she knew what he meant and, above all, what he wanted.

By the time she had wiped the rest of the blood from his chin and cheek, there was hardly anything left of the injuries. He pulled her close and leaned his head against her stomach, hugging her, wanting to be closer to her.

She put her hand on his head as she did every time, stroking his black hair and holding him. ,,I know...I know Gage and you can do it too...but no drug...for today," she replied slowly, feeling him almost flinch as if she had hit him. But they both knew what it meant for the black-haired man.

More hours, another day without his drug. She knew he was screaming and raging inside that he needed it and yet he was so pathetically handsome to look at.

She placed a hand on his cheek and watched him lay his head against it, snuggling against her before he rose, powerless and surrendered. His hand was entwined with hers and he slowly led her into the bedroom.

The big bed they shared had seen better days, but that wasn't the point. What was between them was something completely different.

She saw him sit down on the bed, almost about to fall asleep, he didn't seem to know what he wanted to do for a moment. ,,Wait, let me help...everything will be better in a minute," she said and squeezed his hand before letting go of his.

She went to the window and drew the curtains, closed the door and undressed slightly. Folding her jeans and putting them aside, she had long since taken off her shoes and removed her top.

When she saw his gaze go to her, he almost seemed to be asking permission to look at her body. ",,The night is all yours," she murmured and opened her bra before it fell to the floor and she took her large T-shirt.

Hiding her body underneath, the shirt went up to her thighs. She saw him scrambling over to her as she lay down on her side of the bed.

Leaned against the pillow and opened her arms to him. ,,That's it," she said and Gage lay down between her legs. His upper body leaned against hers, his head on her shoulder, his hands on her legs.

She felt his tension, felt the slight trembling as his fingers traced small circles on her thighs again and again. ,,I-I'm not getting anything, am I?" he asked, she knew he was looking at her through the built-in mirror in the closet door. She saw his blue eyes closely. She slowly let her hands go of his hair.

What had started as a light stroke became a distraction. ,,No, you got me Gage...that'll have to do for today," she admonished him but didn't raise her voice, letting her hand wander over his neck.

She could feel the rapid pulse underneath and wanted to make it clear to him that he should pull himself together. That she would give him something.

But his protesting whimper was little resistance. Instead, she felt his fingers lightly draw the small circles further up to her center. ,,I know what you want, my angel," she murmured and let her hand wander down over his top.

Went under his shirt and felt the soft, cold skin of his upper body. Heard him exhale shakily as he pressed against her, he knew what she was getting at.

She lightly scratched his cold skin the lack of pain wasn't enough he wanted more instead the red strands were burning him. ,,Please-Please...I need you," he murmured, his gaze going to hers and she gave a knowing grin.

,,I know, my angel," she replied and gave him a soft kiss on his black head of hair before running her fingers over the waistband of his trousers. She felt his tension move around the silver button, wanting to finally be distracted with something else.

If it wasn't lust for addiction then it was always lust for love. For her. She slowly saw the bulge forming in his pants as she stroked the heavy fabric of his jeans.

The coldness that always seemed to emanate from him slowly mingled with the warmth of devotion. ,,Please-please Mommy," he murmured, pushing his hip against her hand, trying to get more of the feeling.

,,You were so strong today...I want you to have it all," she whispered and undid the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper and seeing his cheeks turn pink at the sound. Before she stroked his hardness, she saw the clear bulge in his shorts.

She gave him another kiss on the head before she closed her fingers around his hardness and made a few strokes over the hardness of his pants, the fabric teasing him and asking him to give her everything.

,,Let me hear you," she reminded him and took care of him again. The room filled with his lustful noises, the use of heroin long gone.

But his search for her was something he needed even more than his drug. She only needed one thing. Her broken angel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

@icarus-star , @romanroyapoligist , @kristennero-wallacewellsver , @spookyorchid , @roryculkinsgf

#Bullet Head #rory culkin #bullet head gage #gage x reader #bullet head gage x reader

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salaapaoo · 1 year

Note

for the post of what I wanna see: twin krs&cale au but they hate each other initially. just stupid things like krs assuming cale is just some drunktard and cale hating the fact krs wants to slack when there’s a WAR coming.

so they tug each other’s hair, play pranks on each other and try to sabotage everything the other does. BUT. they are the only ones allowed to hate on each other. if one of the twins get insulted or courted the other twin will be SWINGING. regardless of everything they’re still a team dammit.

sure they get to know each other but this rivalry thing they have going on is easier to keep going than admit they actually like their twin.

THINK ABOUT ITTT

If asked about the other, you'd probably receive a roll of the eyes and a scoff in response.

"Hell if I know where that lazy bastard is, probably chasing after that slacker pipe dream like the irresponsible fuck he is." Cale would bite out, his teeth almost audibly grinding as his face wrinkled with disgust.

"It doesn't matter where that drunk piece of shit is. Could be dead in a ditch for all I care," Roksoo breathes out, not even bothering to look up from the novel in his hand.

Cale despised the useless "aspirations" that his brother would spew. There was a war brewing on the horizons, looming over them like the shadow of the grim reaper themself, yet Roksoo wanted nothing more than to lay around. The very sight of his brother lazing around in bed served as fuel to Cale's ire, bubbling and licking up to his throat with a rumbling growl.

To make things worse? Nothing seems to deter Roksoo from his stupid goals.

"Oops," Cale lilted, eyebrows raised in mock sympathy as he knocked his bottle of wine into Roksoo's lap, startling him awake from his nap.

His brother sat up on his bed, the merlot wine sticky against his skin as he turned a heated glare towards Cale. This. That blank stare that barely did anything to conceal the displeasure in Roksoo's eyes was yet another thing Cale hated.

He hated liars, but he hated those who refused to speak their minds just as much. To him, they were just as bad with the way they would spin people in circles with their sugar coated words and glib tongues.

"My apologies, brother," Cale spoke with a smile, sitting at the edge of Roksoo's stained bed. He was satisfied with pushing every single one of Roksoo's buttons in hopes of seeing the other explode one day.

"...the alcohol must have rotted your liver as well as your brain," Roksoo said through gritted teeth.

Before he could get up to leave, a hand had reached up to yank at his hair, the other one still wet with alcohol, wiping against the collar of his shirt.

It devolves into a jumble of wrinkled clothing and petty smacks or kicks, only ending when Ron enters the room. His benign smile looking... menacing.

Roksoo watches as his brother scoops up the soup with the elegance of a noble. The same elegance that had technically been trained into him, but he was too lazy to show. He had to hide how the corners of his mouth threatened to curl up with a slow sip of water.

"AASHGHJGSFDK," Cale sputtered, soup spraying out of his mouth in a panic.

It took so much convincing for the chef to finally give in to Roksoo's schemes. If anything, it was probably Ron who ended up convincing his own son, who looked scornful as he dumped spices into Cale's bowl.

Roksoo continued to watch with a raised eyebrow as though he had nothing to do with it.

His brother reached for his glass of water in hopes of saving his dying tastebuds, snot and tears already starting to dribble down his face as he took a massive gulp.

"PFFFFFFFFFF-" Cale spat this out, too.

Roksoo personally dumped salt into his brother's water, making sure it dissolved completely. Cale turned to him with a messy face, coughing as he tried to find words to curse Roksoo with.

"You.. YOU FUCKING BASTARD," he screeched, launching himself at Roksoo, whose face split into a wolfish grin.

Roksoo had been minding his own business at the tea house when he overheard a pair of women flapping their mouths and spouting worthless shit.

"Ugh, the older twin, is such a piece of garbage!"

"I know! Why does the count even bother to keep him! The second son, Roksoo Henituse, is an angel compared to that--" The woman's voice cut off with a shrill scream.

Roksoo leaned against the ledge of the window, cheek resting against his palm as the porcelain cup dangled from his fingers, "Better watch your mouth before I accidentally drop this cup, too."

Their faces paled at the sight of him, their mouths failing to form words to defend themselves before they scurried off.

"fucking roaches."

"isn't the second young master... kinda lazy?" A man voiced, almost drowned out amongst the rowdy crowd of the bar, "It's like the war doesn't exist to him or something.."

Cale felt his veins pop at the slander, his grip around the neck of the wine bottle tightening until his knuckles were white.

The tavern goes deathly silent at the sound of the bottle shattering on the wall next to the stranger's head.

No matter how they act as though they hate each other and continue to slander one another... their true thoughts and feelings towards each other are revealed when the war surges through their territory. Surrounded by the stench of blood in the air around them and the clanging of swords ringing through the battlefield, they cover each other's backs while tearing down enemy after enemy.

#tcf #lcf #trash of the count's family #lout of the count's family #asks #salaapaoo fic ideas #thank you so much for asking skhgskdjf #og cale henituse #cale henituse #kim roksoo #kim rok soo #twin au #hehehe spicy #i get carried away p easily

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steviewashere · 3 months

Text

Still a WIP

Hey, so this is part of a chapter I will be posting in my fic: We Share This Life. It's already not a very happy story, I'm telling you right now. And this chapter is also not that happy at all. But, I feel like torturing y'all. So I'm posting it. And y'all will have to painstakingly wait until the rest of the fic is flushed out to get the entirety of this chapter. Enjoy :)

For full context, I encourage you to read the current story. Yes, I'm still updating. Yes, it's slow going. Yes, I wrote this first.

CW: Medical Diagnosis, Talks of Death, Mentions of Disordered Eating (In reference to symptoms) (That's the most you're getting out of a content warning, I don't want to spoil the whole thing.)

———————— He hunches over in pain three days after Thanksgiving.

Steve’s using his crutches. He’s standing in the center of their living room in the middle of a game of charades. The word is ‘Bartending’. His hands, glorious and large lift from the crutches. They mime the glass. The alcohol. And then—

He hunches over in pain three days after Thanksgiving.

The rest of them—Nancy, Robin, and Eddie—are sitting clueless on the couch. Elbows leaning hard onto their knees. Robin shouts, “Food poisoning!”

And Nancy scoffs because, “Why would we have put food poisoning in the hat of topics?”

Eddie’s clueless, but concerned. Concerned because the pain seems too real. Too visceral. Too…Obtainable. He hesitates a guess, “Childbirth? No…What would the—“ And he takes a closer look at his wonderful Steve. His legs are shaking. And he’s biting his lip hard enough to make it pale. And his eyes are watering behind his glasses. His skin turns a light shade of grey. “Baby?” Eddie softly calls. Steve is wearing his hearing aids. And he doesn’t hear him.

He doesn’t hear Eddie at all.

“Steve?” Because fuck petnames right now. “Steve, are you—what’s going on?” But when he can only hear the guttural, gargling pained moan part from Steve’s lips, he realizes this is no charade. This isn’t some game. Steve is hurting. Miserably.

He finds himself standing and rushing over before he can catalog he’s even doing it. His palms swamp the bony knobs of Steve’s elbows. He’s half-dragging, half-walking him over to the couch. And then he’s sat and Eddie’s crouched on the floor.

And he doesn’t know what to do. Because Steve is sobbing and moaning like somebody is carving him from the inside out. He can’t form words through the pain. His breaths go labored, both from the pain and the panic of having so many eyes on him. But Eddie can’t make Robin and Nancy stop looking. He can’t bother. His eyes are on Steve. They’re tracking the sweat beading on his forehead. His limp hair. His everything.

A palm, his left. Or…is it his hand? Is that his hand, is it somebody else? There’s a gold band on one of the fingers. The skin is pale. Eddie’s pale, he’s seen his own skin. He’s seen his own skin and yet he can’t make out the colors or the shapes in front of him. Steve is moaning, groaning in pain. So, Eddie can do what he knows is best. Setting his hand where Steve is clutching.

Because Eddie massages him on the couch. And he smears that disgusting weed cream on his aching joints. And he loves Steve, god damn it. He loves him like the moon can love the ocean or a person loves the spirit, not the body.

Where his palm lands under Steve’s, he stills. He’d wondered about the recent weight Steve had gained, not out of anything malicious, more out of adoration. He’ll have Steve in all forms. He’s been soft for many years at this point. This shouldn’t be anything new. Yet, under the softness of his palm, is the taut hardness of Steve’s abdomen. Almost bloated. Though, if Eddie thinks on it, their dinner hasn’t even been delivered yet. And Steve hasn’t had anything to eat since…well, since breakfast. He should’ve taken that as a warning, shouldn’t he have? When Steve looked up at him at lunch time, when Eddie was offering him a bowl of soup, when he said through a new roughness in his voice, “Stomach hurts. Not hungry.” Shouldn’t he have taken the warning when he thinks back on the days before? Steve’s erratic, disordered eating. His whimpers at night, even in his sleep, though no nightmares prevalent. Or the hisses as he twisted. Even the grunts when he was simply reclining on the couch, television playing some static cable premiered football game.

Eddie swipes his palm back and forth over the hard muscle. And he holds his other hand on Steve’s left bicep. And for the first time since he was forced to as a little kid, he prays. Already on his knees, hands on his body of choice to worship, and he prays like it may save them.

The groaning turns to yowling.

And Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

Steve starts hunching over in pain three days after Thanksgiving.

——— The doctor appointment is next day.

There’s growth on his stomach lining. The protruding to his abdomen and the hardness under Eddie’s palm, it’s a tumor. He gets the phone call while he’s at work. While he’s behind the desk at the record shop, maintaining his inventory, readying himself for a weekend trip out of town to pick up some more music. But then his phone rings.

“Y’ello?” He answers.

“Hey,” Steve greets, breathy. Shakily down the line. He’s walking somewhere. There are cars zooming behind him. The rustle of the wind. Eddie can only hope he took his scarf with him to this appointment. He would’ve gone, but he couldn’t find anybody to keep the shop open.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie greets back. He keeps his voice soft. Like they’re laying under the blanket in their bedroom, sharing kisses, whispering secrets into one another’s mouths, fingers tracing over long ago healed scars. “How’d it go?”

By the way Steve sighs, Eddie knows to not expect good news.

“There’s a growth in my stomach,” he mutters. Then he’s exhaling hard. “It’s…They’re saying it’s possible that it’s adenocarcinoma of the stomach? I don’t—“ He huffs and Eddie’s chest pulses. “—They suspect it’s from a combination of cigarettes and stomach surgeries. Y’know, the surgeries after the bats? And then from stomach ulcers that I had to get surgically removed.”

Eddie sits in the silence of his shop for a moment. He’d turn off the music for the day. Just to sit and calm himself. To recollect his mind and be able to figure out the numbers. He’s worked better in silence a good majority of his life. But now. Now, it’s suffocating. “What’s the next—“

“I have an appointment in three days to get it better looked at. They suggested a cancer center not too far from here. I’m driving out there. Get a better understanding of this,” he nonchalantly explains. As if, maybe, this isn’t affecting him as bad.

How is he not terrified, Eddie has to wonder.

Steve takes another deep breath. And on the exhale he admits what Eddie wanted to know, “I’m scared, Eds.” His voice tiny. Breaking in a way Eddie hasn’t heard since Steve’s seizure diagnosis back in 1987. He continues, “I don’t know—This is gonna be the way I die? I’ve sacrificed so much bullshit. And I die from fucking stomach cancer?” He’s getting angry. A place where Eddie won’t know how to calm him down over the phone.

“Stevie, honey, you’re not gonna die. That won’t happen—“

“How can you be so sure?” He sniffles and chuffs. “How can you be so sure that I won’t die from this, Eddie? That I just—That I just won’t wake up one day?”

“Because I know you, Steve,” Eddie urges. Voice becoming firm and large. “I know you. You fight things tooth and nail. You don’t like failure. And you don’t like giving up.” He stands from his stool at the counter. And paces up and down the aisles of miscellaneous records. The album their wedding song is from—The Stranger by Billy Joel—is tucked neatly at the front of the bin he stops at. It’s cover worn. Tattered. Aged with memories and time. His eyes are watering. “You don’t give up,” he pushes on. “You’re gonna get this checked out. If you have to do chemotherapy, I’ll be there to hold you and to steady the vomit bucket and to rub your back.” He sighs. “You don’t give up. And you trust me when I say right now, you won’t die.

“You won’t. You’re resilient and you’re lovely and you’re the beacon of light that everybody in our lives relies on. You are a torch, a flame. You are everything, Steve Harrington. This cancer will be nothing, you hear me?

“You live because you’re Steve Harrington, my husband. My husband and my soulmate.” With a sigh and his mucus slick voice, “And I love you.”

The other side is quiet. A stillness to it that horrifies him. Though, there is the background noise. Cars and wind and birds and people and cars and wind and birds and people and cars and wind and birds and—

“I’m scared,” Steve mutters again.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie says, shrinking back to softness. Because it’s true. And his heart is breaking. And there’s fire under his feet. The store is dusty and the blinds are shut. Everything is closing in on him. Music can’t save him from this. The silence, it’s suffocating, but it’s nearly all he can handle. “I know. I’m—I—I’m scared, too.” His heart is breaking further. And his hands are shaking. The thrum to his pulse is red hot and pouring into every crevice of his body. He’s a bag of blood with thoughts and feelings. Mushy and red. The sorrow on his tongue, bitter like bile. He wants to kiss Steve, wants to taste his morning breath, hear him whimper, feel the vibrations of every bitten back moan, the stretch of his sleepy smile. Wants to kiss the furrow between his eyebrows he knows is there. Wants to just hold him. Hold him and hold him and hold him. “I’m on my way home,” he rushes out. “Fuck this inventory bullshit. I’m coming home. I’ll pick up our Chinese food orders. We’ll put on a movie and I’ll scratch your scalp and we’ll forget about this until we have to go to that cancer center.”

“You don’t have to come with—“

“Of course I do,” Eddie guffaws. “My god, Steve. You’re all that matters to me, don’t you understand that? All I think about. What I dream about. Everything I do has a little bit of you in it. And everything I see is in the shape of your soul. And all I hear is your laughter. And all I smell is your skin.

“What other choice do I have? I’m going with you. You won’t be alone.” He’s panting, he realizes. His chest is tight and his stomach is twisting. There’s bile on his tongue. There’s bile in his throat. There’s bile and spit and breathlessness. But in the end, all that he has is love. “You won’t be alone,” he says once more. “Because I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Steve squeaks, his voice wet. “Drive safely, please. I don’t think I could plan a funeral and go through chemotherapy.”

Eddie’s fingers trace over his chest. He kisses his fingertips. Whispers, “Cross my heart, Stevie. Cross my heart, I will make it home to you.” And then his thumb hovers over the end call button. Waiting. Steve ends the call.

And all that’s holding Eddie is silence.

————— Let me know what y'all think. Also, don't hate me for making you have to wait a while until this chapter is out. But I felt like posting some angst after all my fluffy steddielovemonth prompts the last several days.

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst #bittersweet #read the content warning #the world building is still constructing honestly #<3

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

Text

kinktober '22 ║ ⅠⅠ

pairing: pero tovar x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 1.9k

summary: despite the fact that you shouldn't, you can't help but continue to visit the prisoner that you still didn't know the name of. An unexpected visitor shows up.

warnings: dry humping, squirting, dirty talk, pero being a little shit as always

a/n: this is part of the ego & black powder series, you don't need to read the first part to read this but it'll add more context if you do! the masterlist isn't out yet but I'll be getting to it soon 💜

part one | series playlist | taglist form | series masterlist

You’ve been sick before.

You got poisoned, stabbed, got the flu, woke up with a sore throat– You hated it, for sure, but you knew that eventually those misfortunes would pass, one way or another.

But this isn’t the case when it comes to him.

Ever since your little…relief session with him, he’s been quiet, suspiciously so. You hadn’t expected him to honor the agreement you forced him to make. The silence irritates you. It shouldn’t but it does. He’s like sand. You remember finding it everywhere after coming back from training when you were a kid. No matter how many times you bathed yourself it didn’t matter, the sand would still be there. It would be on your bed, the floor, still lodged deep in your scalp.

And that’s exactly what he feels like. No matter what you do, the ghost of him lingers across your skin. He visits you when you’re alone in your bed, touching yourself, remembering how his cock tasted on your tongue, and in those moments you can swear you hear him laughing at you, teasing you for being weak.

Everytime you enter his cell, you want him to say something, anything. You never thought that you would miss the sound of his voice so much.

And just like the days before, when you open the heavy door to his cell to feed him, he’s silent, only his eyes following you as you move. You bring the bowl of soup to his lips, he promptly opens up and allows you to feed him. When you see the pink of his tongue, you’re reminded of how soft it felt against your fingers.

“I am done, princesa,”

You blink, trying to comprehend what he just said. Your gaze falls to the empty bowl that is still pressed against his lips, swallowing, you swiftly pull it back, cheeks feeling warm under his intense gaze. When you continue to stand there, frozen after hearing his voice, his lips twist into a sly smile, eyes shimmering with amusement.

“Have you been lonely?”

Your heart sinks into your chest. The way he makes you feel is indescribable, confusing. You’re happy, yet you also want to rip your heart out and throw it at his feet.

“No,” you whisper, eyes looking down. “Why would I feel lonely, I have my comrades,”

He scoffs at that, smirk shifting into a wide grin. “Comrades?” he repeats gleefully. “I barely hear you talk to any of them. Do not lie to me, I know you were lonely before I came into your life, and you are lonely still,”

The words sting. He’s right. He says it nonchalantly, as if he’s just stating a fact. Despite being a prison guard for as long as you can remember, you never felt like you belonged. The men don’t enjoy you being there, it doesn't matter if you are good at what you do. It doesn’t matter to them if some of their commanders are women. You’re not that high up in the food chain to gain their respect, and despite knowing some of these men since you were a child, they always give you dirty looks, mumbling, muttering. It always happens behind your back. To your face they act normal, laugh with you, eat with you, complain about the disgusting men that lay on the other side of the iron gates.

But none of it matters when they prefer you gone.

“You must be tense…”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. It’s clear to you that he wants to say more, instead he bites into his bottom lip instead, tongue licking over the dents. The air between the two of you crackles with unspoken words, the hairs across your body lifting at the ghost-like sensation. You swallow, heat building between your legs. No matter what you did your fingers never felt enough after tasting him. Every night you wonder how his cock would feel buried deep in your cunt. Placing the bowl in its place, you eye the closed door before walking up to him, standing only an inch away.

“What are you saying?” you whisper, you can feel your pupil diapering as you look at him, gaze raking over his jaw and stopping at his throat. You want to bite into him. “What are you proposing?”

“I propose–” he stops to swallow, his voice thick with want. “You relax and take what you want for a change,”

The words send a shrill, unsettling feeling up your spine, it settles in your bones. “Take what you want” as if it was ever that simple. You don’t know how to answer him, or what he actually means, until the chains rattle and he spreads his legs. Your eyes follow the movement, hunger spreading within your gut.

Hands shaking, you take another step, balancing yourself by bracing the wooden pillory, his head between your hands. His back is flushed against the stone cold wall, looking up to him, worry settles across your face.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“I can barely feel it,”

He grins, pushing up his thigh at the best of his capabilities. You shiver at the sudden pressure, brows knit together in concentration as you experimentally grind your hips down on to him. Nails scratch the wood as you repeat the movement, a jolt of electricity shooting up your spine. The flimsy trouser he was given to wear barely hides the muscles underneath, he’s strong and steady underneath you, which prompts you to move faster, your breathing becoming uneven.

Five minutes barely pass and you feel absolutely soaked. You managed to angle yourself in a way that each time you grind down, your puffy clit is caught against the shaft of his thigh. Your moans become louder, more frantic. With the corner of your eye you see him smiling, it annoys you, it annoys you even more when he tries to kiss you. Not slowing down your hips, you pull away.

“No kissing,” you hiss. “You’re a thief,”

He laughs at that, head falling back against the pillory as he watches you desperately rut against him.

“Princesa,” he says, trying to level with you. “I can feel how wet you are. The fabric is shade darker, is a kiss really where you draw the line?”

“Yes,” you breath out, arms shaking. “A kiss is something personal. It requires feelings. Which is something you wouldn’t understand,”

He laughs again, but this time with less humor. You’re too dazed to care, your head falls against his chest, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Everything feels so damn wet. Heat builds between your legs, the coil tightening as the roll of your hips becomes sloppy. Your chest tightens.

“That’s it,” he purrs, lips dangerously near your ear. “You are so wet, have you been thinking about this for long? Cum for me, want to feel it all,”

You clench around nothing, you want to look up but refuse to do so. Instead, you furiously shake your head into his chest. You bite back your moans, everything is so intense. He continues to whisper utter filth into your ears, telling you how good your wetness feels, how it could fill the rivers. It’s too much. The tone of his voice is too much.

You cum with a cry, silencing yourself by biting his chest. You vaguely hear him hiss but you’re too far gone to actually care. You’re positive that you black out for a second, cunt gushing around nothing as the intensity of your orgasm continues to cascade over you. When you’re done, you nearly fall, barely able to pull back. He’s smiling as your gaze travels down, seeing the mess you made.

“Good girl,” he rasps. “Now show me,”

You blink in confusion, “Show you what?”

He licks his lips, his eyes out to devour you. The tingles of your orgasm returns, you’re not satisfied with just grinding against his leg.

“Show me the core of the mess. Bend over and let me see that beautiful pussy of yours,”

You still, a sudden flush of embarrassment heating up your skin. Chest stuttering, you notice the thick outline of his cock, a small dot of wetness staining the front of the fabric. Then, with a sudden bravery, you lower your own trousers, turn and bend over, just like he said.

He groans at the mere sight of you, chains rattling as he thrusts into the air.

“Spread yourself for me,”

Reaching out, with two fingers you spread your folds. You don’t dare to say anything, you fear something might happen as soon as you open your mouth. The chains rattle again. You squeeze your eyes shut, desperately trying to calm your raging heart. It’s deadly silent now, you can feel yourself dripping.

In the end it isn’t you talking that breaks the spell, it’s a series of footsteps that’s heading your way.

“Fuck!” you gasp, pulling your trousers up. At the same time you run towards the water bowl and fill it with water. You can hear him chuckling behind you.

“I told you you were mine. And now our real story begins, mi vida,”

Before you can pry and ask what he means, the door opens. The water sloshes inside the bowl as you turn, some of it spilling over the bowl and wetting your fingers. You look absolutely dumbfounded. A man you don’t know and a guard walks in, you remember his name being Jungfeng. He eyes you suspiciously, but he’s quick to shrug it off as he leaves you and the new arrival alone in the cell.

The stranger ignores you completely, an amused glance appearing as he stares at the prisoner.

“Tovar,” he says, voice full of humor. “So, how’s life without me?”

Tovar. That must be his last name. It feels odd to know.

By the air alone you can tell that these two have known each other for a while. Tovar sheepishly grins, moving a bit. His eyes flicker to you, lips curling up.

“A little slow,” he answers, eyes still locked to yours.

Finally the stranger turns, eyes wide as he finally notices you. His eyes briefly scans your body, observes your expression and turns back to Tovar.

“Seems like it,” he grins, you feel heated within the stifling cell. You want to leave but you can’t.

“You’re a hero after all,” Tovar says, your presence forgotten. He looks away then back to his friend. “So what are they giving you for all of your troubles–”

You zone out, not wanting to hear the rest. With the way your heart is beating, you doubt you would be able to hear them properly anyway. He’s going to leave and you’re going to be alone, all over again. It was nice while it lasted, however, you wouldn’t mind if it had lasted a little bit longer. You’re not sure who this newcomer is, but his mere presence makes rage bubble inside of you.

“Are you coming, princesa?”

You jump at the loud voice. Looking up to Tovar, you blink before shaking your head. The stranger is amidst freeing his right arm, Tovar grins at your confusion.

“I said would you like to join us,” he, you can only assume, repeats himself. “It would be good to have someone who knows the land after the cavalry leaves us,”

“Me?” you say, your mouth spitting cotton. “Come with you?”

“Yes, it’ll be fun,”

When he stands, actually stands, only an inch away from you. You feel lightheaded. He’s much taller than you anticipated, his presence towering and intimidating. His gaze is playful, lips twisted in an amused smile. You can tell he’s enjoying himself. He reeks of danger and heartbreak.

So it surprises you when you accept his offer.

He doesn’t seem at all surprised.

kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch

ego and black powder tags: @/tusk89 , @/amneris21 , @/pedrito-friskito , @/batdarkladyvampir , @/dindjarinswhore , @/timpletance , @/xdaddysprincessxx

#pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar x you #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x fem!reader #pero tovar x f!reader #kinktober day two #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #kinktober '22 #the great wall fic #the great wall fanfiction #ego and black powder series

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let-me-simp-in-peace · 2 years

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Fever (Akaashi x Sick!Reader)

Akaashi Keiji is a worrier. He’s not so proud that he can’t admit that. This worry extends to his family, his friends, and, Y/n, the love of his life (who is currently unaware that they are the love of his life, but that’s not the point).

The point is that Akaashi hasn’t been able to reach you in the past two days, other than a single message saying, “Sorry Kaashi, I can’t meet up today. I’ve been a bit under the weather.”

That was why he was currently on his way to your home with some medicine and homemade soup.

When he got there, he knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he knocked again, louder this time, but still, nothing.

Akaashi bit his lip as he mulled over what to do. He had a really bad feeling, so he lifted the fake rock from the flowerpot beside the door and slid the bottom open, revealing your spare key. He put the rock back and unlocked the door, locking it behind him once he was inside.

The house was eerily silent. Even at night, you always had some kind of sound, no matter how quiet it may be, but right now, not a single sound could be heard.

A chill ran down Akaashi’s spine. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong.

“Y/n!” He called your name loudly.

He heard a soft thump overhead. He rushed up the stairs, deciding to check your room first. He threw open the door, and his heart sank. The only light in the room was coming from the window, and in the dimly lit room, he could see you laying on your bed. The covers pooled on the floor where you had kicked them away in your sleep. A sheen of sweat glistened on your flushed skin. Despite that, you were shivering violently.

Akaashi rushed to your side, resting a gentle hand on your face as he called your name. You were burning up.

Your fever was so high that Akaashi was honestly terrified of what would happen if it didn’t go down soon.

A cold bath! That could work!

Akaashi raced into the bathroom and turned on the water. He didn’t want it to be too cold, so he held his hand under the faucet until the temperature was right. He plugged the drain and ran back to your room.

When he got back to your room, you had rolled onto your back. Your eyes were open, but they were glazed over and unfocused.

“Y/n!” He shook you gently when your eyes started to close again. “You need to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

“Kaa…shi..?”

“That’s right. I’m right here.” He soothed.

“Sc…ared..” You croaked weakly, trembling hands finding his even in the dark. He gripped them gently.

“I know. Don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you.” He reassured you. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

You nodded sluggishly. Akaashi slid his arms under you and lifted you up, carrying you into the bathroom. He lowered you into the bathtub, whispering apologies when you hissed at the sudden cold.

You sank into the water, a sigh of relief leaving your lips. Akaashi brushed his fingers through your hair.

Your nose scrunched up cutely. “Don’t do that. My hair probably feels disgusting.”

Akaashi just chuckled. “That doesn’t matter to me.”

You shot him an unconvinced frown that only made him smile.

“Just relax, okay?”

You sighed and gave in, leaning your cheek against the cold, tile wall. Once you had cooled down sufficiently, you felt a little better, and after washing your hair, you at least, felt like a human rather than a swamp monster from Scooby Doo.

Akaashi changed your bedsheets and stuck them and your blanket in the washer. He had just finished heating up the soup when you trudged down the stairs. Your movements were still sluggish and weak, but you looked much better than when he arrived.

“Have a seat on the couch, and I’ll bring your soup.”

For once, you didn’t argue, curling up on the sofa without a word. After making you take some medicine, Akaashi brought you a bowl of soup and some tea to soothe your throat. He put on one of your favorite movies and sat down beside you. He didn’t say a word as he wrapped you in the fluffiest blanket he could find.

Later, you were leaning against his shoulder, mumbling sleepily about how he could get sick from being around you. Akaashi only smiled and pulled you closer. You huffed but ended up snuggling into the warmth of his body anyway.

“Mm, Keiji?”

Akaashi stiffened. You rarely ever called him Keiji. “Y-Yeah?”

“…” You were silent for a long moment, so long, in fact, that Akaashi thought you might’ve fallen asleep.

Even so, he didn’t miss it when you murmured, “‘m in love with you.”

He blinked several times before the words finally processed. You turned your head, pressing a tender kiss to his jaw before closing your eyes. “‘s always been you.”

He kissed the top of your head fondly, your hair tickling his flushed cheeks. “I love you too, Y/n.”

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beeslibrarycorner · 2 years

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Let Me Help

Peter Ballard x Reader

Word count: 649

Warnings: none just fluff

Plot: Reader gets sick and tried to hide it from peter. Peter finds out anyway and helps.

Request: Hi omg could I request Peter ballard x reader where he takes care of them and treats them kinda like a princess sorry if this sounds stupid lol I’m currently sick rn (covid so two weeks at home 🤪) so I have a lot of free time 😭

You were getting sick, you could feel the slight ache in your bones and a tightness in your chest. You smiled through it when Peter woke up for the day because you knew he was going to coddle and smother you. He didn't suspect a thing when you kissed him goodbye for the day.

He called the bookstore to check in on you and by that time you were congested, your voice was nasally. He kept asking if something was wrong and you lied through your teeth, but you think he caught on when he mentioned that he was going to make soup tonight and how you should take a nice hot bath.

When you got home for the day the apartment was warm, Peter must have put the temperature up. It took the fall chill right out of your bones, it was like a warm welcoming hug. When you walked into the apartment a bit more you saw Peter cooking soup in the kitchen and when you caught his eye he gasped and walked towards you. “Baby girl, you look so sick why didnt tell me anything; I knew something was wrong when I called before.” he said as he grabbed your face.

You pouted as he put the back of his hand to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Peter, I didn't want you to worry and call in sick so you could take care of me. I wanted you to go through your day without me being a burden” you grumbled and his pursed lips turned into a frown. “Baby, I would never see you as a burden when you get sick. I just enjoy taking care of you when you're not doing your best” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Now let's get you dressed into something comfy, I made some chicken soup; I know it's your favorite when you're not feeling well.” Peter said, placing his hand to the center of your back and guiding you to your bedroom. He got you to take a nice hot shower instead of a bath while he got something for you to wear. When you were done with the shower he toweled you off, got you dressed and guided you back to the dinner table.

He ladeled some soup into a bowl for you and put it in front of you. He also put some oyster crackers on the table for you to add to the soup. “Now I know you hate this but it is recommended to be taken before you eat” you heard peter say before you saw he was holding some medicine. You scrunch your nose up in disgust when he handed it to you and then you downed it, you felt him rub your back and coo at you. He grabbed a bowl for himself and the both of you ate together.

When dinner was all done he moved you to the couch and draped a blanket over the both of you. He had you lay between his legs and your head against his chest while he played with your hair. He put the tv on but you couldn't focus on it, your eyes were getting heavy and you started to doze off. Peter woke you up enough so you could sit up on your own, he picked you up arms under your thighs as you laid your head against his shoulder.

You whined when he placed you on the counter of the bathroom instead of tucking you into bed. “We need to brush our teeth, love bug and then we can go to bed” Peter said while tucking some hair behind your ear, you hummed in response. When that was all said and done he carried you off to bed and tucked you in, cradling you against his chest and rubbing your back. You fell asleep in seconds in Peter's arms.

#peter ballard x reader #001 x reader #stranger things season four

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kpopimagi · 8 months

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A Flower Under The Rain [Part 8-2]

Characters: Baekhyun, Kyungsoo and Kang Gyuri (OC) Genre: Angst, Romance Au: Hanahaki!Au Type: Series Word count: 6,585 Status: Trigger Warning

It all began with a cough and then, a subtle sting in her chest. Kang Gyuri cried, knowing that in a matter of months, she would be another figure in the death toll of the most dangerous and cruelest outbreak in human history.

I added the trigger warning just in case. It was the first thing I wrote about this chapter and I just love what that interaction means for the characters in the story, but I also understand some might find it disturbing to read. That being said, be aware that this is a heavy chapter

Spinning.

Spinning out of control.

She was spinning, and tumbling around, slipping out of a horrible desert and back into semi-consciousness. She couldn't stop the tumbling and the throbbing for dear life until she opened her eyes and felt her mouth full of sand. But Gyuri wasn't in a desert, and her tongue wasn't covered in sand. She was just lying in bed in a blindingly white room, with a pounding headache, a disgusting thirst, and what she guessed, for the first time in her life, a nasty hangover. She tried to blink off the tumbling sensation but gave up when she sat up and felt her queasy stomach.

Gyuri noticed that she was wearing different clothes than the ones she had the day before and panicked. She couldn't remember changing and looked around for answers when she noticed the curled-up body tucked in blankets next to her. She felt all the warmth in her leaving her body in absolute terror of what she couldn't remember. Tugging the blanket, she discovered a mop of tangled hair and then Anna's impassive face under the hairy mess, snoring ever so softly. Gyuri deflated back on the bed in absolute relief but instantly regretted it when her world spun around her.

"Drink all that water and get some food, for goodness sake," Anna mumbled with a groan without moving an inch from her position.

Gyuri felt too unsettled to feel mortified and without arguing, she dragged herself out of bed to find at least half a dozen water bottles on the nightstand beside the bed. Some more were empty and scattered on the floor, and wondered how she managed to drink all that water. She had no recollection of doing it whatsoever.

Grabbing a couple of bottles, Gyuri left the room, squinting at the bright morning light seeping through the windows, and went to the kitchen. She wasn't thinking. She was too hungover to think about anything but felt her stomach drop when she found Kyungsoo washing dishes and food sizzling on the stove.

He must have felt her presence in the room because he looked over his shoulder and muttered a quick greeting before resuming his dishwashing. Grateful that Kyungsoo wasn't observing her, Gyuri walked over to the kitchen island and settled on one of the stools. She was opening one of the water bottles when she noticed that the writer finished the dishes and was now observing her quite intently.

“Why do I still remember stuff?” Gyuri asked before gulping half the water down in one go.

“You didn’t drink nearly enough to blackout,” Kyungsoo explained, and he busied himself back on the stove.

"I don’t know which one is worse.” She added, feeling her head pounding. “Did I say anything embarrassing?”

“You told me your biggest secret.” He said, placing a bowl of soup in front of her.

It took Gyuri a couple of seconds and quite some thinking to recall what secret he was referring to but when it finally clicked on her, she froze in her seat and felt her mind suddenly becoming clear. Her eyes opened wide, scared of what it could mean because she remembered many things, but clearly not as much as she wanted.

“Did we…sleep together?” She mumbled.

“No.”

A wave of relief came over Gyuri, and she swore to never get drunk again. However, that didn't erase the mortifying notion that she blurted out such things in his presence, and struggling to meet his gaze she dug into the soup. She welcomed the feeling of her stomach calming down, but Kyungsoo stayed still in front of her, fiddling with his fingernails as if deep in thought.

“I didn’t write it down," he said after a while, "but I made sure it happened before it was too late.”

“I guess I’m not that weird after all,” Gyuri replied after stuffing her mouth with food.

Kyungsoo shook his head, making a funny face, and was about to say something when Anna came into the kitchen and embraced Gyuri in a big tight hug. Surprised and taken aback by such a display of affection, Gyuri stayed still, looking at Kyungsoo for any explanation or cue of what to do next, but he simply observed the scene with a smile on his face.

"You look rough," Anna said, tightening her arms around her, "which means it was a good drinking night."

Everything happened so quickly that it was hard for Gyuri to follow, but the moment Kyungsoo placed a bowl of soup next to her, Anna let her go, and for a split second, she could swear they exchanged a meaningful stare. They didn't say anything, but the grave looks in both of them made her wonder if something happened. Their silent exchange ended when Minseok joined them with his hair all in disarray and still wearing his pajamas. Anna sat down and dug into the bowl with passion while Kyungsoo placed a third bowl for his friend. As soon as they were all set and eating, the writer brought a pan, still sizzling with marinated beef, and placed it in the middle. To her absolute surprise, Kyungsoo had a slice of meat on his chopsticks and was ready to feed her. Gyuri almost choked on whatever she was eating but leaned forward, opening her mouth nonetheless, and felt herself blush. The meat was delightful, but it was the gesture itself that had her smiling. The giddiness didn’t last for long. She couldn’t even bask in the feeling when she watched Kyungsoo doing the same to Minseok.

"What about me?" Anna asked when she opened her mouth, but Kyungsoo only nudged the pan closer to her.

"You have your own hands," Kyungsoo said with a deadpan expression that made Minseok chuckle.

Gyuri practically deflated in her seat. She nagged herself and wanted to slap her face at the ridiculousness of hoping that Kyungsoo would ever do something as intimate as feeding her when they were not even that close. Kyungsoo invested all of his attention into whatever he cooked and was more than happy to share it with the people around him, no matter who they were. She really wasn’t that special and hated herself for thinking she was.

“Is there anything wrong?” Anna asked, noticing her sudden silence.

Shaking her head, Gyuri resumed her breakfast, gulping down not only her food but her feelings as well. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only embarrassing moment she had to endure during breakfast because her hosts invested themselves in getting her up today with all the silly things she said and did the night before.

It wasn't all bad. Gyuri found herself chuckling at the stories of her silly drunken antics. For a moment, she thought about Baekhyun. She wondered what would have happened if he happened to be around. She pictured herself telling him the stories of her first drinking night, and she knew he would pester her for not inviting him. She lost herself in the fantasy of what could be but was brought back to reality by the editor asking her something.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Minseok asked again, and Gyuri simply stared at him as if caught up like a deer in headlights.

"She's probably too hungover to want to go on a hike, honey," Anna said, winking at her.

"She can sweat it out up there." The editor added.

The idea alone made her shudder, and they all quieted down by her reaction. Gyuri wanted to apologize, but the sudden attention and, she wasn't so sure if she was correct about it, the look of endearment on their faces stopped her. They were all looking at her.

"I'm not feeling that well," Gyuri ventured to say.

Minseok was ready to say something about that argument, but Anna was faster and dragged him back to their room as they bickered back and forth about whether to go out hungover or not and left Gyuri and Kyungsoo all by themselves in awkward silence.

"I guess I will have a shower," Gyuri said when Kyungsoo cleared off her empty dishes.

With her stomach full and not as queasy as before, Gyuri excused herself from the kitchen and hid in her room for as long as she could. She took a long shower, hoping for the hot water to wash the hangover away, and then devoted herself to the tediousness of applying cream all over her body. She was done after a while and tried to just hang out around the room, enjoying the toiletries available but was also aware of how awful it would look to her hosts if she stayed locked up in her room.

Checking her reflection in the mirror, Gyuri encouraged herself before going to the living room to find the person she was trying to avoid silently sitting on the couch. She took her time and felt her cheeks suddenly flaring as she recalled the embarrassing things she said. Gyuri had to push those thoughts aside and greet the writer, but he didn't move. She cleared her throat, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear, but once again, he remained unfazed. Walking around the couch, Gyuri realized Kyungsoo had his headphones on and was watching what looked like a movie on his tablet. However, the moment she came into his peripherals, he noticed her presence, and a smile spread across his face.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, removing his headphones.

"Fine."

"How's the hangover?" He kept on as he got up from his spot, but Gyuri was ready to leave the cabin.

Gyuri thought she was feeling good enough to handle the embarrassment of her drunken mishaps, but once she had his attention on her, she could feel her head pounding louder and her face burning hotter. She schemed her escape. She could hide in the garden for a good while. A part of her wanted to believe that he wouldn't mind.

"The shower helped," Gyuri replied, already heading to the door to get out of the place, but his voice stopped her.

Kyungsoo called her and walked around the coffee table toward her. She froze on the spot, not knowing why she felt more out of place at that exact moment than ever. All she could do was blame it on the annoying headache, the disgusting rotten taste that never ceased to come up her throat, and the clamminess and stinky texture of her skin. Maybe she was too hungover to think straight and misinterpreted the caring and almost loving expression on his face. She must have because it wouldn't make any sense for him to be so kind, handing her a bottle of a hangover remedy. She thanked him for it, and feeling as if her entire body might light up on fire, she excused herself and left the cabin.

The bright sunlight hit her face, and Gyuri let out a sigh. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath and filling her lungs with fresh air, made a beeline for the garden. She found the place just as peaceful as she recalled the previous day and settled on the chair under the tree. Instinctively, she pulled her phone out of her pocket to check for new messages. There was none. Cursing under her breath, she stared at the name on the screen, debating whether or not she wanted to call him. The most hurt and selfish part of her heart kept reminding her that he was at fault. Rustling noises made her snap back to the present, and Kyungsoo came into the garden carrying a small portable table.

"You bolted out before I could give you any of this," he said, just as softly as ever, as he set the table next to her. "But I promise you'll feel significantly better."

Gyuri noticed the glass of water, the hangover pills, and a strawberry parfait perfectly placed on the small table and she just stared at the items at a loss for words. An overwhelming swelling burst on her chest in a way she couldn't control, and tears broke out from her eyes. Gyuri cursed, rubbing the tears off her face, but Kyungsoo was already opening a packet of tissues for her and placing them next to the glass of water.

"I'll leave you alone now." He said, hesitantly looking at her as if he wanted to do something else, "call me if you need anything else."

Kyungsoo walked away, and Gyuri tried to say his name, but her throat tightened up in an unknown burst of emotion. She watched him disappear as more tears fell, and grabbing the tissues, she cursed at herself as she tried to reject the image of Baekhyun smiling at her out of her mind.

Gyuri observed the things on the table, and she felt her mouth watering as she imagined the sweetness of the strawberry ice cream on her tongue and the sugar easing up the growing curse on her chest. She desperately wanted Baekhyun to be by her side. She wanted him to bring those things and take care of her. However, as fast as those tears fell from her eyes, a darker and more twisted thought took over her. She wouldn’t be in a such predicament if Baekhyun cared about her in the first place. If he loved her, she wouldn’t have to fight the primal urge to gulp down that strawberry ice cream to relieve the ache at the core of her heart. She wouldn’t be crying by herself in a stranger’s house that took pity on her, wondering how it would feel to have the man she loved so damn much wrap his arms around her to comfort her.

There were ways to relieve the pain. That much she had learned from Kyungsoo. She reminded herself of that truth. She had tools on her own, she told herself. Gyuri slowly regained control over her emotions, swallowed the hangover pills, and reached for the strawberry parfait. It was homemade. Kyungsoo must have made it himself, and whatever was on her making her lose her wits so easily backed away. She might not have Baekhyun by her side, but there was someone who at least cared enough to make her a cup of natural strawberry ice cream. Sitting back comfortably on the chair, Gyuri dug into the cup. She felt her body relax almost instantly as the sweetness soothed the desperation that took over her so suddenly, and finished the whole thing in no time.

Gyuri lost track of time, seated in the peaceful garden, thinking about nothing and a million things at the same time. The sun started to fall. The day was ending, and countless birds were settling on the nearest trees on the other side of the fence. She basked in the moment as the beautiful harmony of countless chirps and songs filled the air around her. Then, she heard the voices of her hosts at the front of the cabin and knew that the time on her own also came to an end.

***

“Are you ready to have some delicious meat?” Anna greeted her with a wide smile.

Gyuri was still at the threshold when Anna reached for her hand to pull her along. She looked at the woman, excitedly going over all the food and snacks they had ready for dinner, and Gyuri glanced over where Kyungsoo was standing in the kitchen. He was chuckling at whatever Anna was babbling about, and then their eyes met. She saw his expression change from amused to a disarmingly gentle smile that made everything make sense. Gyuri felt herself blush at the realization and listened to every instruction with the utmost attention. She shoved her latest breakdown into the deepest parts of herself and focused entirely on enjoying her time. She deserved it. She desperately wanted it. She needed it.

An overnight campfire.

They planned an overnight campfire in the garden to watch the sunrise, and Gyuri struggled to keep the tears at bay. Before she could succumb to the wave of emotions again, she set herself in motion, letting the excitement and happiness infuse her entire body with energy. She helped Anna to set up everything on the low table on the deck as Minseok worked on the grill next to it. Gyuri took a moment to observe the couple settle everything perfectly for their night, most likely, oblivious about the reason behind it all. If she wasn’t already so enchanted by how nicely they welcomed her into their life without any reservations, she for sure felt an immense amount of affection for them.

Not long after, Gyuri found herself genuinely enjoying the moment. She was seated at the wooden deck, with a can of carbonated juice in her hands, and sharing chips with Anna as Kyungsoo grilled the meat with Minseok assisting him in whatever he needed. As if Gyuri wasn't a new acquaintance but a long-time friend just catching up with their latest shenanigans, Minseok kept telling funny stories of their adventures together. She almost choked on a snack when Minseok told the story of one of their cookouts during a winter night and how the wind blew the meat off the grill. She laughed out loud, clearing up her throat when she noticed the change. The air was heavy and still, and looking up at the sky, she couldn't help but say it out loud.

"It will rain soon."

"What? No." Anna added, looking up at the open sky as well. "I checked the weather and the probability of rain was super low today."

Suddenly aware that the good mood dipped, Gyuri scolded herself for making everyone look up at the sky for the signs of rain as she announced. She wanted to hide in embarrassment for ruining such a moment and braced herself for the weirded-out stares or something of that sort. However, not dwelling too much on the comment like her anxiety convinced her they would, her hosts resumed their conversations, and Gyuri let out a sigh of relief. She looked over where Kyungsoo was by the grill and observed him still looking up at the sky. He found her stare and looked at her with a glint of curiosity and fascination that made her blush. Gyuri wished she was drinking beer so she could blame the alcohol but her internal babbling was interrupted by the unmistakable smell of wet soil. That distinctive scent of the first droplets of rain reached her nose, and before she could say something, Anna gasped next to her.

"Did you feel that?" She asked, looking up and wiping something off her cheek.

There was no warning. After a few droplets here and there, rain poured down cold and heavy. Anna cursed, jumping off the deck. Minseok giggled as he ran away but went back for his girlfriend as Kyungsoo grabbed as many pieces of meat off the grill. Smiling to herself as the raindrops hit her head like marbles, Gyuri gathered as many things as she could from the table and ran to the cabin.

Gyuri just could not tell if she was crying from laughing too much or if her face was wet from the rain. She was on her way out of the cabin to help rescue the rest of the food when she slipped on a wet spot and went sprawling to the floor. She burst into laughter and heard Anna cursing and laughing as she slipped on the wet floor as well, and then, deep giggles and a beautiful smile were the only things she was aware of. Kyungsoo reached out to her, holding her with his strong grip and helping her up. He asked her if she was alright and unable to stop the giggles erupting from her chest, Gyuri nodded.

The amusement of the situation faded away when Gyuri felt him closer. Holding her breath because of his closeness, she looked away when he wrapped an arm around her waist to help her stay steady and away from the wet spots on the floor.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked, finally letting her go.

Still flabbergasted by the gesture, Gyuri nodded. Kyungsoo meant to go out and bring more stuff to the cabin when Minseok came in, almost slipping on the same wet spot Gyuri fell.

"Don't, there is no point going out," he said as he gave Kyungsoo whatever he managed to save from the rain, "everything is soaked by now, including the coal so we can't use the grill anymore."

No one seemed upset by the news. Still giggling to themselves, they all reunited by the kitchen island, dripping wet and shivering. Minseok laughed, grabbing a bowl filled with soggy chips. He asked who was the genius that brought it in instead of anything else more worth saving when his girlfriend cursed at him.

"Those are my favorite chips," Anna said, snatching the bowl off his hands.

"Alright love," He said, winking at her, "I'll let off the hook because of that."

Anna made a face at her boyfriend, and as the oldest in the group, Minseok wasted no time organizing everyone with a glint of determination in his eyes that gave Gyuri chills. So far, Kim Minseok had behaved so ordinarily normal that she kept forgetting that he was the force behind the biggest editorial powerhouse in the country.

"We won't let that meat go to waste." He said as a matter of fact.

And just like that, he put everyone to work. Anna cleaned the floor as he and Kyungsoo dried everything up in the kitchen, leaving Gyuri with the only task of changing into warm clothes and drying her hair so she wouldn't get sick. As the youngest, Gyuri couldn't do otherwise and sheepishly went to her room to do as told. by the time she was back, the floor was clean, and Anna had retired to her room to change her clothes as well.

Gyuri came to the kitchen, hopeful that either Minseok or Kyungsoo would let her take over what they were doing. Minseok looked over at Kyungsoo, and with a smirk, he told Gyuri what to do and left the room. She was drying up the lettuce leaves and putting them in another bowl when she felt Kyungsoo looking at her.

"I don't think I've heard you laugh before." He said, but when she looked at him, he was already turning around to season the meat on the counter.

"The whole thing was funny."

"You should laugh more," he said, pausing to look at her, "You look prettier when you do."

Gyuri went silent. She knew she should feel her cheeks flaring, but what she was feeling was far from that. It wasn't a burning embarrassment that would force anyone to recoil and hide. What she felt was a comfortable warmth that spread across her limbs and only managed to make her smile more. In a way, she even wanted to hear him say that once again.

"How on earth did you know it would rain?" Anna said, coming in and breaking the spell between them, “What are the odds of getting a storm out of nowhere?”

“You said it wouldn’t rain,” Minseok said as he came after Anna, still rustling his wet hair with a towel.

“The forecast said it!” Anna said as she stared at the pouring rain falling outside the cabin. “Unbelievable! What a bunch of liars.”

Gyuri stayed quiet, smiling as Minseok relieved her of the kitchen duties and sent her to relax next to his girlfriend on the couch. She neither complained nor dared to say anything about the rain, considering how baffled her new friend was. It didn't take long for her and Anna to be snuggled under cozy blankets in the living room as the guys prepared dinner. Kyungsoo focused on grilling the meat while Minseok prepared the drinks. No matter how much Anna insisted on helping in the kitchen, the editor refused.

“Well, not gonna lie,” Anna said as she took a sip of her beer, “This is nice.”

“That’s because you’re not moving, darling.” Minseok retorted, giving Gyuri a cup of hot punch.

She gave tiny sips at her drink as Anna talked and talked about everything she had found to love about being back in her homeland until it eventually stopped pouring outside. Minseok and Kyungsoo joined them with their food and found themselves talking the night away as the pitter-patter of the rain enveloped them in a comfortable atmosphere. Although, as nice as it was, something was looming over them. Gyuri noticed the quick and worried glances her hosts threw outside. Anna, in particular, kept looking through the windows with furrowed brows, but it seemed like the sky wasn't over with its wet tirade. Gyuri checked the time and realized what kept them so distracted. The sky wasn't clearing up enough to see the sunrise, and the worst part was that it would never clear up. They all moved to the porch where Minseok and Anna stopped pretending, staring at the landscape around them, whispering about how bad their luck must've been to get such rainfall when they needed a clear sky. As time went by, it was certain the rain outside would not stop.

The sunrise never came.

They all waited in silence, looking at the horizon as if by some miracle, the clouds would move away to let the sunlight shine through but it never happened. Anna was the first to give up, turning to Gyuri, and blatantly stared at her as if she could see the deepest parts of her soul. Gyuri recoiled under her eyes and meant to ask if there was a problem, but she barely managed to let out a squeak.

“Are you drunk?” Anna asked instead, and Gyuri shook her head. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not getting that drunk ever again,” Gyuri muttered, feeling her cheeks burning, which only made everyone chuckle.

“Nah, I just need you to be sober enough so I can sleep with my boyfriend.” She said so unceremoniously that Gyuri panicked for a second.

She looked around, expecting to see scandalized expressions from the guys, but all she got was an excited smile from the editor. Kyungsoo seemed particularly unfazed by the comment.

“Have a good sleep,” Gyuri replied with an unsure inflection in her voice.

With a playful wink, Anna kissed her forehead and left the porch, closely followed by a skipping Minseok that looked ten years younger than his actual age. Gyuri simply watched them disappear inside the cabin, leaving her and the writer alone. She noticed the shift in the atmosphere. She would welcome the silence, the freedom to stay quiet in his presence. Now, there were so many things she wanted to say. She needed to apologize first and foremost, but whenever she tried to bring a word out of her mouth, she didn’t even know how to begin. Gyuri cursed because that awkwardness was created by herself and her alone.

"It didn't go as planned." Kyungsoo said after a while, his eyes still locked on the horizon, "I'm sorry."

Gyuri looked at him, baffled. He had nothing to apologize for, so she forced it out of herself. If there was a moment when she needed to throw her shyness aside, that was the moment, and by no means she wanted to miss the chance.

"Hang out with my friends all night long to watch the sunrise together." Gyuri said wish number four out loud, "I say this counts as a completed wish."

"Are you sure?" He asked. "We can try again some other day."

"Thank you."

Gyuri whispered, looking at him as the notion weighed on her in a way she was not prepared for. She desperately wanted to express herself better, to convey what she felt but found herself as if under the spell of his kind smile, she just could not find the right words.

"I'll go to bed," she said instead.

With her face now feeling like it was burning in embarrassment, Gyuri left the porch before Kyungsoo could do anything that would make herself embarrassed any further. She let out a sigh, weighted with tension, and reached her room without any incidents. Feeling suddenly exhausted and confused, she laid down and stared at the wooden ceiling above her, wondering if what she was feeling was normal or not. She couldn’t tell anymore. Her stomach moved weirdly inside her body, and she rubbed her tummy as if that could ease the sensation. It didn’t. Whatever it was, it kept moving around, and she did not like the feeling.

Not knowing what else to do, she went to the bathroom and took a deep breath before lifting the toilet’s lit. She leaned forward, not dwelling too much on it, and stared at the white toilet bowl. For a second, she didn’t know what to expect. She just followed her gut, and as she observed the impassive water, her body finally reacted. She wouldn’t be able to stop it even if she tried. Nothing hurt, and there was no warning. Gyuri felt the warmth coming up her system and then red pouring out of her mouth. There were no gag reflexes, no battling against the curse, and more strangely, no pain. No burning. Nothing was tearing her skin apart.

Gyuri felt her eyes watering, and the moment the flow of flower petals stopped, she stood up straight. She cursed under her breath, taking in as much air as she could into her lungs when her stomach churned again. She almost missed the toilet, spilling her stomach juices over the edge. The sight of the slimy dark-red contents of her stomach sent her into a state of desperation. All she could feel was the panic taking over as tears finally ran down her face. She fell to her knees when the flower petals stopped, and gripping for dear life to the toilet, she tried to take a deep breath, but as if that was a sign for her body to react, her stomach contracted, and she threw up again and again.

After what felt like an eternity, and as suddenly as it started, her body stopped shivering, and her stomach settled. Relieved to have a break, Gyuri backed away from the toilet and closed her eyes, trying to regain some of her self-control by counting. She was good at that, and she held unto that fact. She started from a hundred as she whipped the snot off her face, and by the time she reached the fifties, she had calmed down enough to rub the tears off her eyes as well.

“Fifty-one.” She muttered to herself.

Gyuri looked around the bathroom, and her entire body trembled. There wasn’t that much of a mess as in her previous episodes, but seeing the red bile dripping from the toilet and spreading across the floor was too much for her to handle. She felt her stomach revolving again, and in a desperate effort to stop, she covered her mouth.

“Fifty.”

She froze on the spot.

“You have to keep counting.” Kyungsoo said, from the other side of the door, “forty-nine.”

Gyuri had stopped breathing by that point. She was too embarrassed and scared to react, even if she felt her chest about to explode.

“Forty-eight.” He said, despite her silence, “What’s next?”

“Go away,” She managed to gasp, but her body contracted again the moment she did that.

“Forty-seven.” He said instead.

Feeling more tears rolling down her face, she choked on her own words, unable to breathe and control the spam on her body.

“Gyuri, you can’t stop.” Kyungsoo ordered, even though his tone was gentle, “Forty-six.”

“For…” Gyuri tried even if it hurt her throat, “...ty…”

“Five.” He finished for her. “Forty…”

“F-four.”

“What’s next?” Kyungsoo asked, and he had never sounded so close and so calm.

Gyuri closed her eyes and took a deep breath once again, hoping she could manage to gather herself together. She tried to focus on the cadence of his voice. She visualized him sitting next to her, close enough for her to feel the rhythm of his breathing so she could follow.

“Three,” She mumbled, reminding herself to exhale as much as she could, “Forty-three.”

“Keep going.” He added, and even though he couldn’t see her, Gyuri nodded before taking a deep breath.

“Forty-two.” She exhaled.

Gyuri heard him hum, and that little sound was enough for her to keep going. She kept counting, one number after the other, as she took deep breaths, filling her lungs with oxygen.

By the time she whispered number one, she was fully calmed, albeit exhausted. However, despite the tiredness, Gyuri reached for the handle and pulled the door open to find the writer sitting on the floor by the door. The light was off, which meant he had been sitting in the dark, talking to her through the door, and there were many things she wanted to tell him, but they just sat there in silence.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." She whispered after a while, "I was angry when I said that. I just don't know what is happening to me. This damned thing is making me…" She said, choking on her words, suddenly upset, "I feel like I'm losing my mind all the time."

Kyungsoo turned his head toward her, acknowledging her words but kept his eyes on the blackness of the dark room. He remained silent, as usual. His nonjudgemental silence gave her a chance to order her thoughts.

"I guess I was upset about what you said," Gyuri said, closing her eyes so she wouldn't shy away from what she needed to say.

"I shouldn't have."

"You had to," Gyuri added, pulling herself together, "You give me clarity, not just about what is happening inside me but in everything else, and I think that's why I got so angry when you just pointed out something I'm trying to ignore. Sometimes we all need to be called out on our crap." She explained, finally looking at him, "I'm sorry."

The writer nodded, accepting the apology, and when he finally moved to look at her, Gyuri saw nothing coming out of his eyes and wondered if it had to do with the darkness around him.

“He’s lucky that you love him."

"Is he though? He didn’t even do anything.” Gyuri mumbled, realizing just how ridiculous the situation was. “He was just being his dumb self, my best friend, and I was stupid enough to fall for him.”

Gyuri found herself smiling at the idea. She smiled at the knowledge of how easy it was to fall for someone that felt so comfortable with her presence and lost herself imagining how different things could be if Baekhyun saw her as something more than a friend. She stopped before her imagination took over and found the writer was observing her. His eyes moved all over her face as if looking for something, and the attention made her realize she might have looked horrible and disgusting. Gyuri looked away, but all she could see was the aftermath of her miserable situation. She tried to get up, although her legs barely worked. Kyungsoo was next to her in the blink of an eye, helping her up. Too conscious of her state and the disgust she felt oozing off her skin, she covered her face, hiding the traces of what came out of her insides, and looked around the small bathroom for a hairband but was still too dazed to know for sure where to look.

"I got it," Kyungsoo said, coming closer.

Stunned, or maybe still a bit hungover, dizzy, or even excited, Gyuri stayed still, looking at him through the reflection of the mirror as he brushed his fingers through her hair, pulling it all back. He didn't have to say anything. He gave her a nod, and Gyuri just followed the indication in silence.

She washed her mouth and then, on an impulse, her entire face and suddenly feeling beyond filthy, her neck all the while, the writer kept her hair from falling over her damped skin. Once done, she leaned back to find him looking at her, and Gyuri didn't know what to do next under his gaze.

Kyungsoo finally let her hair fall to reach for a towel and hesitated before giving it to her. Too many different thoughts crossed her mind as she stood before him, holding the towel close to her chest and unable to move. Time slowed down to the point of stopping altogether, except for him and his figure coming closer and closer. His arm reached out for her, and she watched him leaning closer. All Gyuri could do was admire him, getting so close she thought could feel his heartbeat in the air around him.

His fingers never touched her skin, although she desperately wanted him to. She saw his hand brushing her hair, and instead of putting the strands behind her ear, she felt the subtle tug. She jolted at the sensation, only to notice that Kyungsoo pulled a dried flower petal off her hair. They stared at the deep red smudged petal breaking under the pressure of his fingers, and whatever excitement she felt was suddenly crushed just as easily as that petal.

"I'll clean the rest." He whispered, dropping his arm.

Kyungsoo got himself out of the way, and feeling too hot, Gyuri practically bolted out of the stuffy bathroom. It was still raining outside, not as hard, but soft enough to calm her nerves. Gyuri wanted, desperately, to step out into the open and let the cold raindrops suffocate the fire she felt on her skin.

No one had ever looked at her like that. She replayed the moment in her mind and she wasn't even sure if she saw what she thought she saw. All she could think of was the intense look in his eyes, the sensation of his fingertips gracing the skin on the back of her neck, and the closeness… especially the closeness. He was so close she could see the stubble on his chin, the faint blemishes on his cheeks, and his wild brows. His lips. Gyuri had to close her eyes and breathe in and out, but too bothered by the thought, she let her arm out in the rain and let the towel dampen until she felt the frozen water droplets start trickling down her arm.

Frustrated with herself, she wrung out the towel desperately and draped it over her face as if that could take the confusion away, but of course, it didn’t work. It only managed to clear her thoughts, and snapped her back to whatever happened the night before. She must’ve said something. There was no explanation as to why Kyungsoo would lean over so close to her. He just wouldn't do that. She refused to believe that.

She remembered fragments of it. She could recall the same closeness that had her reduced to a bundle of nerves and the urge to say something important. There was something she wanted to tell Kyungsoo, and she could remember him asking about it. His expression shifted at the question, and his eyes stared straight into hers with a hopeful glint. He might've even been smiling a little bit, and his voice rang with a sudden expectation.

"Do you?"

#AFUTR #Repost #I deleted it by accident #EXO #Baekhyun #Kyungsoo #EXO Fanfic #EXO Fanfiction #Romance #Hanahaki #Angst #Hanahaki Disease

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the-spooky-alien · 2 years

Text

Day 12 of Fictober !

Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "You're making my head hurt."

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022

''You're making my head hurt.''

From her position, near his kitchen's door, Scully rolls her eyes, throwing him her infamous 'you're being very stupid' glare. He can't help but grin back at her, studying with awe as her irritation settles into an annoyed fondness.

He can't believe she's even here, taking care of him when he's coughing his lungs out, missing a day of work even though she's never missed a single day of work before (except for various injuries she may have retained over the years), for him. He didn't even ask her to come. She came because he wasn't in the office and she was worried.

It makes him worriedly giddy. Or maybe its the dizziness of his illness playing with the beats of his heart.

''Your head hurt because you're sick, Mulder,'' she says, coming back to his crouch with a steaming bowl of soup (her favourite when she was sick, she told him earlier) and a glass of something unidentified that makes him recoil in disgust. He hopes she isn't thinking of giving it to him.

''Pretty sure it's you.''

Scully scoffs, but there's slight curl to her lips. ''Just shut up and drink this.''

She hands him the glass. He takes it only because she's watching him with hawk's eyes. He can almost hear her 'I'm a medical doctor'.

''What is it ?''

The substance swirls threateningly in the glass, its smell bitter and agressive even with his stuffed up nose. Putting the bowl on his coffee table, Scully crouches beside his couch, pressing her hand to his forehead. He jerks back against the contact, her hand furiously cold on his hot skin.

''Not poison, I promise,'' Scully smirks, but her tone sounds a bit too airy for him to believe her. She lets her hand fall back and turns to his discarded blanket, draping it back on him. She shows him tenderness in a way nobody has before. His throat tighten at the thought, so he turns his attention back to the glass.

He eyes it. The glass eyes him back. ''I wouldn't put it past you to try to kill me.''

''Honestly, Mulder,'' she sighs, irritation beginning to slip back into her tone, ''why would I even do that ?''

He can't help but stare at her. There a thousand reasons she would want to kill him and dump his body somewhere nobody would find it.

''Maybe you're getting tired of my genius theories-''

Scully snorts. ''Of course-''

''-Or my tendency to irritate you when I chew my sunflower seed-''

''-You don't-''

''-Or because of how often I ditch you even though it would be better to have you with me,'' he finishes with his hand curled around the glass, absently hoping it would shatter in his hand so that every shards in his skin would distract him from the knowledge of being less than enough for the one woman he loves most in this world.

''Mulder...''

His name on her lips ends in a strangled sigh. Her blue eyes, wide and piercing, stare at him, horrified. Her brows scrunch up the way they do when she's feeling sad. It brings acid on his tongue, to know he's wiped out her smile to bring this on her face.

''Might also be because of the pencils on the ceiling,'' he mumbles, forcing a smile on his face. It feels like a grimace more than anything.

For a moment, neither says anything. Unable to bear her intense eyes, he closes his eyes and drinks what's in the glass in one long sip. It's slippery on his tongue, bitter and cold.

(It tastes like guilt.)

''I don't...'' Scully begins before sighing. Her head falls forwards, face hidden behind long strands of hair. She looks weary. ''I hardly want to kill you, Mulder. Not even when I'm mad at you. Not when you chew your seed, not when you ditch me.'' Her hands find his, without even looking. A part of him wonders if she'll always find him, no matter what. ''You're... I care about you and your well-being.'' And she brings her eyes back to him and the word in her eyes isn't care. It's fire and tenderness all in one, it's kind and soft and destructive and it burns at the center of their chest. ''This, here, right now, is me taking care of you because I want to. Because I think you deserved to be cared for, even if you're irritating sometimes and reckless and selfishly selfless.''

His throat feels so tight, he can barely chokes, ''I don't-''

''If you're gonna say you don't deserve it, you can stop right now,'' she snaps fiercely, one of her hand moving to cup his cheek. Her touch is soft and gentle. He melts under it. ''Because you do. So very much.''

She moves to embrace him then, wrapping her arms around him and combing back his hair even though he's sick and tired and a jerk most of the times. Her words are warm on his ear, warmer on his heart.

''Let me take care of you, Mulder.''

He does, falls into her open arms with relief at being caught and held.

#txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #college is trying to keep me from writing them #i hope you will like it !#thank you for reading

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nobully · 1 year

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shunt and strike! (with his cane. teehee.)

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 & 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 shunt . shove my muse backwards . strike . my muse in the face (with his cane)

"One bag."

"Xerxes, no."

"Nobody would know."

"Zhilan would kill me?"

"That would be a very tragic problem," Xerxes Break folded his hands over his cane with a smile, glimpses of his single eye curving into a crescent behind his hair. "for you, that is."

"..."

Wang Yi slowly clenches his fist. Unclenches it. Rests his hand on the handlebars before him and takes a deep breath.

"Then it's a good thing I'm the one piloting this thing, aren't I?" Leaning forward, he pushes the man in the wheelchair past the enticing scents of the candy store and next door into...a soup and salad bar.

***

Twenty minutes later, the formerly fearsome wielder of Mad Hatter finds himself sitting at a table and staring with the first flickers of anger at the contents of his bowl. Not that he can see it, but swirling the spoon around had already told him enough.

"What is this?" he demands testily to the pink-haired man across him.

Wang Yi finishes crunching his iceberg lettuce. "Soup."

"I know that, but why is it in front of me?"

"Because it's lunchtime," Wang Yi says simply. "Look, it's liquid—you don't even have to chew—"

"It doesn't make a difference what my teeth do," Break replies testily, "when my stomach is the one with the problem."

And that's the crux of things, isn't it? Break hates food—or rather, has trouble keeping it down, but he can't just eat candy all day. He's been taking bits and pieces at home, but a mouse probably eats more than he does in one sitting and no one (not even Zhilan and his ever-winsome personality) can really make a dent of difference about that.

So Wang Yi takes Break on a field trip.

An approved kidnapping more like, managed with a rented wheelchair that he urges Break into because 1) it'd be faster and 2) hey, he wouldn't have to do any work. Break looks awfully thin in the chair too, but it's something neither of them comments on because Break will kill him and Wang Yi has better things to die for, and so they manage to get along just fine for the first few blocks.

Back in the restaurant, Wang Yi sets aside his fork and raises a hand. ' Check, please. '

Break arches an eyebrow. "Oh, are we leaving already?"

' You have better things to do with your day than fight with soup, ' Wang Yi points out.

"Such as seeing all the ways you bend over backwards twisting your words to appeal to me?"

' Whatever works, ' Wang Yi shrugs and smiles at the waiter coming to their table. ' Hi, can we also get the soup to go, please? '

"I'm not going to drink this at home either."

' What, like I can't? It's good soup, I'll take it if you don't want it. '

Break shoots him another look, Wang Yi laughs, the soup is packed and the bill paid. See? Everything is fine.

***

Everything is not fine.

Xerxes Break pinches the half-bitten sugared bittermelon between his hands with something akin to fascinated disgust before waving it in Wang Yi's face.

"What is this abomination."

Wang Yi finishes chewing on his sugared burdock root. ' It's candy? '

"It is not."

' Yeah, it's a little healthier than that, I think. Plenty of sugar though—isn't that what you like? '

"It doesn't matter how much sugar you put if it still tastes bitter afterwards!"

Break drops the candied vegetable back in the box and Wang Yi takes the chance to peek at his other options: ginger, orange peel, and radish. ' That's because your box kinda sucks, ' he says matter-of-factly. ' Here, have a tomato from mine—they're pretty good, no funny aftertaste. '

He picks up a piece but Break beats him to it, using his cane to hook the inside of Wang Yi's box and dragging it to his side of the table.

' Hey, what gives—? '

"You said my box sucks, so we can just skip the hassle and trade," Break explains matter-of-factly while pushing his own over. He dips confidently into Wang Yi's box, picks up a piece of mystery satozuke, and pops it in his mouth. Like the other one, it's chewy, but satisfyingly sweet with no weird flavors, though still disappointingly just a carrot. He's mollified, but just barely. "Why would anyone spend time coating vegetables in these..."

' Tomatoes aren't vegetables, ' Wang Yi points out.

Break wants to shut him up.

***

They end their day of impromptu food tours (no candy, in Break's case) and sightseeing (sight-speaking, in Wang Yi's case) in front of the same sweets store they passed that morning. This time they're both walking on their own feet, Break having abandoned the wheelchair a while back after getting sick of sitting in it. He stops as soon as the smell of sugar wafts over his face, nearly causing Wang Yi to trip over him and drop all the bags of snacks and samples they'd gathered throughout the day.

' Xerxes, ' Wang Yi begins when he realizes why they've stopped. He reaches for the man's arm. ' Don't—oof! '

Break shoves him back none-too-gently and crosses his arms, irritation written all over his face. "I've been going along with your terrible shop decisions to taste all manner of manufactured nightmares. It's about time I get something I'll actually appreciate, don't you think?"

' Zhilan said neither of us are taking a step in a candy store today so—hey! Put that down! ' Wang Yi leans back as Break suddenly raises his cane at him. ' Listen to me—ouch! ' He gets thwacked on both shoulders.

"Then you should've picked a route without the store," Break scolds him. "Even I can see that." And I'm blind. Idiot.

' Well that's because— ' This is the closest route to the bus stop and—Wang Yi pauses as the cane raises itself again and finally drops his bags to reach inside his pockets. ' Dammit Xerxes, I already bought them for you! '

A small cloth bag of candy almost hits Break in the chest before he catches it with pure instinct. He can't see its contents, but the smell of strawberry is obvious enough in the air. Digging in, he unwraps one from its wrapper and pops it into his mouth. Delicious. Wang Yi gets an appraising look in turn. "Since when?" After all, they'd been together for the entire day.

' Obviously I bought it yesterday! Loopholes exist, you know. ' Wang Yi says, and Break can already hear the scowl. He doesn't appreciate the dig at his intelligence though, so the butt of his cane darts forward to smack Wang Yi precisely in the center of his forehead.

' Ow! '

"It's what you deserve," Break huffs as he pockets the offering in his pockets and turns around, cane tapping against the ground in a brisker, more cheerful pace. "Come along, we're running late." He still wanted to be home before Zhilan returned from the library.

' Oh, so you were keeping track of time, ' Wang Yi grumbles as he bends down to pick up their bags.

"Your constant glancing at your phone was obvious enough."

' How did you see that? '

"You were so noisy about it I didn't even have to look."

' That's...pretty neat, actually. '

Whatever the case, the day is done. It would've been better if he'd snuck out by himself, but it's true that with Wang Yi around things went faster. Break finally parts with the bright-haired nuisance at the door, slips into his room in the empty house unnoticed, and gleefully digs out the bag of candy he'd gotten for free in the end. Now, time to enjo—

The bag is empty. Not wholly so—because he shakes a few more sweets out of it, hearing them drop into his lap, but the weight of the package completely belies its sparse contents. Frowning, Break feels the insides with his fingers and brushes against something round and smooth sewn in between its fabric layers. They were similar to pebbles, but clinked on impact with a sound not unlike hard candies...

Sensing a bad premonition, Break runs his fingers through the pile of sweets he thought he dumped out and realized most of them are just balls of cellophane. Wang Yi must have lined the top layer with a few candies and stuffed the rest with empty filling. How clever. How irritating. How atrocious. He will get him for this, oh yes he will, and the next time they meet there shall be a reckoning the likes of the world has never kno—crinkle.

His fingers brush against paper—another handwritten note? When Wang Yi already knows he's blind? Again the anger in him soars, but he can't deny wondering what the fool had dared to write. So.

He reads it, in the end.

Sorry. Like I said, Zhilan would kill me.

But I figure you could try sampling stuff from different stores so you can pick a fav in the future? There's 6 from Golden in there, though I heard there's a lot more shops hidden in Archimedes and Cotes. Something to think about, maybe. No need to keep this note for blackmail. I already told the people who would've wanted to know.

Break only wishes Wang Yi could write shorter messages that get to the point faster. He feels around his lap until he finds the five remaining candies—all strawberry-flavored, he notes—and cleans up the remaining cellophane into the bag before he's caught and forced to explain. Or perhaps there's no need to bother, if Wang Yi's already shared about his ideas. He doesn't quite trust the man on his words alone, though.

This, he reminds himself, is not an act that merits murder. Not even a phone call—though he gets satisfaction imagining himself tearing the man down with words alone. Wang Yi does have a strange propensity to grovel, which is as annoying as it is convenient. He uses his voice to dictate text messages instead.

XB [txt] Very funny. XB [txt] I hope you know that I'll be expecting one bag from each store after this, considering the difficulty of describing which candy is what when I can't see them.

There's a ping a few minutes later when Wang Yi replies, his words spoken out loud by the phone A.I. for Break's convenience.

WY [txt] Well yeah, that's the fun part, you see? WY [txt] Finished tracking down Zhilan—gave him the 6 bags—you two can figure it out together. WY [txt] Unless you ate the samples already, which is fine too but that means you've reached your candy quota for the day, so he won't let you taste-test any more until tomorrow.

Break arches a brow.

XB [txt] Why couldn't you have just given me the bags to begin with? WY[txt] What, and deprive Zhilan of his bonding time? I'm not a monster. WY [txt] And also, leaving that much sugar with you unsupervised is just insane right now. XB [txt] Don't act like you care all of a sudden. WY [txt] Don't act like you don't, then. WY [txt] Do you want me to tell you what Zhilan's wearing instead? Because he's looking pretty fluffy—fluffier than usual, I mean. XB [txt] I can ask him. Myself. WY [txt] Ok, then what about kissing tutorials? WY [txt] I found a good one the other day WY [txt] Not freaky I mean—so that might be—

Break turns off his phone in the middle of Wang Yi's rambling messages and puts it on the table by his bed. Forget the switcheroo with his candy bag. Forget the tiresome snacks Wang Yi had them sample all day. Forget even the careless way the guy references his relationship with the special someone in his life, because he hears the door opening and Zhilan stepping inside in his soft, quiet soles.

He tilts his head to listen closer, hearing the footsteps pause as shoes are taken off before their owner walks straight to his bedroom door. It's ajar, so all Zhilan has to do to nudge it open with his shoulder to peek inside.

"Xerxes," he begins breathlessly. "Did—do you want to try some candy?"

And oh. Just hearing that is already sweeter than anything he's tasted today, including the candy he'd sucked on outside the house. Break opens his arms to welcome him, a smile already stealing onto his lips, and says yes.

The hapless Wang Yi gets to live another day.

#schleckermaul #drabbles;#eating difficulties #how do i tag this...it's his health-related indigestion #anywyas i can live in denial with AUs if i want

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nottherealajhq · 2 years

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favoite breed of soup :o)

HI this is my recipe for my favorite animal Jam meal the. thecake THIS is the real life equivalent of everysingle cake that is in animaljam and the soup that is inside BECAUSE TRUST ME oh you'll be getting a mouthful of that delicious material. RECCOMMENDED FOR CHILDREN There is no vegan alternative to this by the way if you want there to be go to the hill

INGREDIENTS YOU WILL NEED:

THE CAKE BASE

6 cups of Flour (EXACT)

3 beautifully collected Robin's Eggs... DO NOT TRY TO GET AROUND THIS NO OTHER EGGS WILL WORK

Teaspoon of Baking Soda

70 teaspoons of Salt

Milk

50 pounds of liquid pyrite

Beets

Onions

White Sugar

Brown Sugar

Red Sugar

Butter

Food Coloring (As artificial as you can find it)

SCREAM FOR THE CREAM

Buttermilk

Custard

Your family heirloom

The. TheJ. J.

Coconut Oil

Olive Oil

Angel Hair Pasta

Almond

Flintstone

8 different herbal teas

Beets

Water

OKAY first we get ot making the cake, You will need to find a large bowl so every single ingredient will fit inside. Get all your flower in first (stolen from your neighbors yard) as well as the Robin's egg BUT DO NOT PREPARE ANY OTHER WET MATERIAL YET THE MIX IS NOT READY. THEN USE the teaspoon to add your single little sultry drop of the Baking soda AND PREPARE YOURSELF becuase this is going to be time for the salt marathon. You cannot use anything but the teaspoon you will RUIN the RECIPE. You also cannot pause during this process or take a break or anything or lose count if you are even SLIGHTLY off you start over.

THEn ON THE OTHER SIDE you begin to serve the barrel, which is where the liquid end of your cake spectrum will sit. In this barrel first pour in the milk, then every single drop of the LIQUID pyrite. THEN you add the butter and this may come as a surprise but the onions and beets MUST be added in sector of meal. The pyrite must touch these items add much as possible for maximum taste efficiency I am a food scientist i would know Jammers. Do not chop these up either they will become liquid in its own right.

As you mix these items for an hour you can then go back to your dry materials and finish the job. Add all three bags of sugar to the bowl and then mix for a half hour. You can then pour all of these materials in the same bowl and mix 2 hours. Afterwards add the food coloring and mix for another 2 hours. During this process you may find that the palms of your hand start bleeding and the blood may start leaking into the batter this is okay this is supposed to happen and this means you are not allowed to turn back now. When you are finally done, put your sexy mix into the oven on the highest temperature for 24 hours. Leave the room to prepare the Cream.

Preferably this should be done in the living room or another sacred area of your house, Maybe with an image of your grandma or entire family looking down upon you as you ready the next step, find your most prized possession and smash on the floor with your strongest disgusting boots as possible. Do not cry while doing this or you will ruin the recipe. When it is in shatters put it into the bowl. Add the buttermilk and custard (as little as possible) into the dish. Grab the coconut oil with your bare hands and put 2 fists full of the item into the area as best as you can manage. If you bandaged your hand earlier after your injury just go outside and stand in the middle of the highway at this point. You cannot wash your hands.

You will now wait half an hour staring at the bowl you are NOT ALLOWED to look away or do anything else in the process do not even fucking touch the bowl while it sits. After this is finished you must prepare the bath for your little bambino, absolutely drenching the place with olive oil until there is a righteous amount to do the baptism as intended. Please save grace and create a speech for the entire box of noodles before it is fully able to accept purity into its soul. Drop the noodles in the bowl carelessly as possible. If they crack into tiny pieces then you did the right job.

At this point you may hear the doorbell ringing and don't worry it's not the fire department or anything (your town has not had a fire department in 60 years) there will be a bottle on your doorstep. this is the Substance of The Rake which signifies you have been doing a perfect job at creating your ANIMAL JAM cake up to this point. Grab the bottle and gentle pour it within the cream. Proceeding this you will turn on your TV which will be playing an episode of the Flintstones. watch for a few minutes, chuckle a bit at the funny antics Fred is presenting you, then start smashing the tv with all the animosity your body can muster. You may be hearing the Flintstones screaming and yelling pain but that's okay this is necessary for the recipe. Put the Flintstones in the bowl. Add the almond as well for a better taste.

Okay hopefully you have more beets because the beets are next. Just fucking throw them in there at this point who fucking cares. Add the herbal teas FIRST and the water in sequence so the teas know what true horrors taste like. Of course the final part of this recipe means You will go down to your basement. There will be three different jars, one containing a bright orange substance, the other pink-purple, and the last one with My Little Pony Friendship is Magic character Rainbow Dash. grab the first two. The last is for another day. And then, pour the two J

Put the cream into the oven and another 24 hours to the timer. Do not take the cake out of the oven. Walk outside to your porch and go to sleep. It does not matter how uncomfortable you are.

You will wake up having the worst sleep of your life, and when you try to get back inside you realize your keys are missing as the door is locked, so you go through some comedic antics trying to see if you hid a spare key under the rug or something else, but you realize your keys were actually in your pocket the entire time so you go back in normally. All of your furniture is gone. The Cake is done. Add a candle that reminds you of your shitty awful fucking manager and sit crisscross applesauce on the floor in front of your creation. You look up at the image of your grandma. She is flipping you off. Who fucking cares she was a cunt anyways

#ajhq postinng

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obeythebutler · 3 years

Text

Chaotic Love (Mammon X Reader)

Unusual is a fitting word to describe your friendship. He's a demon, and you a human. Mammon and you are the most chaotic pair ever known to the Devildom. From pranking to hanging out (sometimes literally) you two are the yee to each other's haw.

Everything is going smoothly, with fresh shenanigans taking place every day until a spark ignites itself between two best friends. Now, even eating ramen with Mammon at three a.m. feels like a date. Now, you both are finding it hard to have casual sleepovers, where his leg would be draped over yours, and you'd kick him in your sleep.

Now, you're finding love brewing in your friendship.

Part 1.

"I like my coffee how I like my soul. Black and bitter."

You roll your eyes as you hand him the cup which has more sugar and milk in it than coffee. Mammon immediately snatches it from your hand and takes a swing, and a smile forms on his lips when he finds the drink to his liking.

You actually gave him black coffee fit for Lucifer's taste once, and the demon spat it all out on his clothes. His look of disgust at the bitterness still makes you laugh when you reminisce the hilarious incident. A snort escapes as you take a sip from your cup, and Mammon shoots you a sour look, which unfortunately makes you chuckle harder, as you revel in the scorn your best friend gives you, an uncanny resemblance to when his mouth was filled with coffee.

After you calm down enough to quieten, the silence isn't broken until you both are significantly awake enough and your cups are half-empty.

"So what's the plan today?" You question as you settle down the empty vessel, and the demon brightens up immediately. You know he'll announce his plans whether or not you ask the question, but when you do, his voice takes an excited edge to it.

"The Great Mammon has a busy day! I've got some plans today!" He answers as he beams, an excited smile forming on his face as he downs the last of his coffee.

"I've got a meeting with the witches today and because of that I'm going to become filthy rich! They'll fall into the traps of the Great Mammon!"

"And you're coming along!"

"Obviously." You quip and watch Mammon fish out his D.D.D., checking the time before putting it back.

"You'll finally see how awesome I am!" He adds the last part as his hands card through his hair, which never seems to tangle.

"Awesome as in running away from debt collectors and colliding with me?" A deep voice from the doorway makes Mammon freeze.

Lucifer's strict tone has an immediate effect on Mammon, who starts quaking in his boots when he sees the first-born's scowl.

The dark- haired demon grabs his own cup of coffee, and when he passes you he gives an affectionate pat to your head, humming as he takes a sip of that 'sweet, sweet liquid' and walks out again, in a better mood than he was before.

Coffee really does wonders to even a demon, huh?

Breakfast is the usual affair, for Beel inhales his food and you've prevented Belphegor from falling asleep more than once in his bowl of soup. Satan and Lucifer bicker as they usually do, while Asmodeus periodically checks his face for any traces of extra makeup, or just to admire himself.(The demon pulled out a mirror from a pocket once, and from that moment onwards your suspicion that the latter is true was set in concrete), and Levi arrives late as always, to find out Beel has eaten his food.

Mammon flashes you a grin as he bites into his bread and you wink, for today's plans are industrious. Hopefully, you won't end up coated with egg or other foul substances, this time. Or have to run away from geese.

The walk to R.A.D. is short, and you and your best friend` discuss subjects ranging from his hatred of curses and hexes to superiority of cats or dogs. Mammon claims crows are the best. You're yet to see how.

Everything goes smoothly, until Curses and Hexes class pops up and when you're about to settle in your seat and pull out your notes to revise, someone becomes very insistent on poking your back with a pencil.

"What?" You hiss as you crane your neck to see Mammon fiddling in his seat with a look of helplessness on his face. Immediately, you turn around, and just as you open your mouth to ask what's wrong the demon beats you to it.

"I forgot to study for the test!" Mammon confesses as he stares at his textbook in bewilderment and when the latin doesn't make sense, he chooses to rest his head on the textbook, as if osmosis might do the job. You sigh as you shake your head, taking out the notes you made with Satan. This isn't the first time this has happened, but hey, you got each other's back.

Turning behind so that you're facing the white-haired demon, you chide him softly. "Of course you did. I warned you to study for it, didn't I?"

Your best friend groans. "Sorry." He mutters, already planning to accept defeat and another scolding from Lucifer. He looks guilty, and you can't help but open your notes. When Mammon sees them he beams, an adorable smile forming on his face.

"I knew I could count on you!" He cajoles, and the happiness that emits from him makes you raise an eyebrow but you shake your head and begin a quick summary of basic spells, one that will ensure Mammon passes at least. Thank Satan for tutoring you. Curses and Hexes passed smoothly, without having to not mutter answers, and not risk being caught.

After you both get home, the second thing you do after taking a shower is a nap. Because R.A.D. is exhausting and also because your collective antics wear you out. When your head hits the pillow, you sigh in blissful relief, the plushness already making you feel relaxed.

You chuckle when you remember how a demon was very confused on learning that all his pens and pencils were 'disappearing' one by one. They weren't vanishing into thin air, but instead being chosen as high-quality 'sticks' by a crow. The pens were shiny, and of course the crow would be attracted to them.

Mammon's always been attracted to shiny things, you reminisce as you finally drift off to sleep, a sense of tranquility washing over you.

Almost.

Because you can hear footsteps approaching and the door opening.

You pretend to be asleep.

You can feel the mattress dip under new weight as a hand comes to violently shake your shoulder. "Oi! MC!" Mammon's voice rings out loudly, and when someone's shaking you that hard, you can't pretend to be asleep unless you're Belphegor.

The scowl on your face is terrifying as you stare at Mammon through half-lidded eyes. "What?" You hiss, and the demon shakes his head before pulling the blanket away from your body. You try to clutch to it in the hopes you won't be separated, but you don't stand a chance against his grip.

"We were supposed to go together!" He whines, shaking your shoulders even more violently as he urges you to sit up, which you do begrudgingly, and gape at the demon.

You grumble. "Let me sleep—"

And you immediately shout in surprise because Mammon has literally swung you over his shoulder. You forgot how determined he could be when it came to his interests.

Your fists come to pound at his back in an attempt to make him free you. "Let me go Mammon—all right I'm coming, but for the love of everything that is unholy let me down."

Mammon laughs as he puts you down, and tells you to meet him at the entrance as he secures Goldie, so that his brothers can't reach it.

You regret this.

You wish you had stayed at home, wrapped up in your blankets.

Staring at a flower growing from a crack has become so boring.

Mammon hasn't come outside since an hour. The building itself is shady, but Mammon paid no heed to your words or concerned look, smiling and merry as he went inside with the witches.

The laughter died down quickly, and was replaced by faint whispers, which quietened down too. You've considered screaming for Mammon and bolting, but you won't, not yet. But Lucifer's number is on speed-dial, a precaution for when shit breaks out.

A text from Mammon breaks you out of your reverie.

Mammon: Hellfire naked.

Huh?

Your face twists in confusion as you stare at the text, as if gaping at the screen will make you understand the meaning of 'hellfire naked.'

You: Hellfire naked?

Mammon: Hellfire *snakes!

You: You want those for dinner?

Devildom has..particular ingredients when it comes to their cuisine. Like hellfire mushrooms and newt, or a boar leg the size of your torso. Mammon likes dried blackbelly newt legs, and scorpion in some kind of sauce. You would prefer sticking to desserts that won't burn your esophagus.

A scream makes your head snap toward the iron gates.

It's Mammon's voice.

He's never sounded so terrified, not even when Lucifer hung him from the chandelier for a whole day.

He's in danger. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, you run forward and attempt to open the gates, but they don't budge, not even shaking as you try to channel your meagre human strength into opening them.

A growl escapes your lips as you pull up your sleeves, and do the only thing you can come up with. Climb the gates. It's stupid, but it's worth an attempt.

So, with determination in your head to save your best friend you climb the iron, barely managing to reach the top. You cheer, giddy as if having climbed a mountain, but an iron gate is an impressive feat too.

But when you look down, only then you realize how tall the gate is, and what parts of your body would bruise if you jump.

Shit, shit, what do you do now? Your D.D.D. lies on the bench were you were sitting, and now calling one of the brothers also seems impossible.

But the glowing pact on your body reminds you.

Mammon, you close your eyes. Mammon, where are you? Are you okay?

You feel his answer in the back of your mind, even if he isn't speaking you can feel the message as you sigh in relief.

But your happiness is short lived, because the next thing you know is that the window has been shattered due to a figure slamming into it, and you almost fall due to the shock.

The blur of white-hair tells you it's Mammon.

Screaming, but it's Mammon.

"You idiot." You begin, numerous scoldings already threatning to spill past your lips at having given you such a fright and being the reason for your predicament but before you can even speak the first syllable, the demon has already climbed the gates like a monkey and is now standing on the other side. huffing and panting.

"How," You begin, eyes widening in disbelief. "It took me a hell lot of time to get here and you've already scaled it twice." Mammon shakes his head as he shouts for you to get down.

One look at the height has you reeling.

You mutter in denial. "Not in a million years, nope. Have you seen the height of this thing?" Mammon shouts in frustration as he motions behind you. "What?" You frown in irritation, and when you turn your head, a curse escapes your lips.

Hellfire snakes, more than twenty of them.

Goddammit.

You can't jump, nor can you let the snakes catch you, because they climb things quickly. But you don't want a bone to be broken too.

Hopelessly, you stare at Mammon for any solution.

The demons open his arms. "Jump!" He screams. "Jump and I'll catch you!"

Already, a noise of protest is about to spill past your lips, but when you see a snake coil itself around the gate, with a scream you're off.

The fall is short, thankfully, because you've latched yourself onto Mammon, who nearly topples over at the force you've jumped at him with, but sets you down as he shouts at you to run.

You barely manage to ground yourself, adrenaline still thrumming through your veins as you pocket your D.D.D., and when you see Mammon in the distance, you cry in fear, because the snakes are almost near.

You're frozen in place, shaking as a snake approaches, fangs bared and malice in its eyes as it prepares to strike.

But then you register someone's hands pulling you on their back.

"Mammon?" You whisper, and the demon grunts in response as he adjusts your posture, and instructs you to hold tightly, which you do, and in a moment he's off, scrambling with you on his back.

He's rushing through alleyways and passages you never knew of.

"I told you to run!" He mutters harshly as you finally escape the alleyway and into the streets, where Mammon ungracefully drops you on the ground, and you huff as you try to brush the dust off your clothes.

"I'm a human! I can't run as fast as you!" You retort back, fuming as you sit on a chair in front of a cafe. "You fucking own me."

Mammon says nothing, instead opting to pull another chair and sit besides you, sighing as he rests his head on your shoulders, and just when you're about to ask what happened this time, the ringing of your D.D.D. interrupts you.

"Whose it?" Mammon slurs, already half-asleep as he glares at the screen.

"Shit," You mumble. "It's Lucifer."

I'm very bad at titles and summaries, but I had to get this out today. The poll voted most for Mammon, and I imagine the friendship to be chaotic.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me fics #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me mammon x mc

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