#I respond to being stir crazy by writing I guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

esssteee · 8 months

Text

Thanks for the tag @yletylyf <333

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 13

2. What's your total A03 words count? 351,919

3. What fandoms do you write for? grishaverse and castlevania. i'm still a baby writer, having started actively contributing to fandom works not quite 2 years ago.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

we are the wild youth chasing visions of the future (gv, aleksander/alina), young liars (gv, aleksander/nikolai), with the sun against our back (gv, aleksander/nikolai), winding and unwinding (gv, aleksander/nikolai), i will eat you alive (gv, aleksander/nikolai)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yep, almost all! if i receive several in a row, chapter after chapter and by the same person, than i will more likely just respond to the last one, but i do like giving an answer to any feedback and show of love i get!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

um, good question. i don't think I've written a true angsty ending. i have several open/ambiguous endings, but the ending for me and the devil (gv, aleksander/alina) is the most ambiguous of the bunch just because it can be interpreted as alina just going stir-crazy from being alone and forgotten for so long and imagining aleksander by her side and staying with her, so it can be angsty if you take it that way.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

with the sun against our back (gv, aleksander/nikolai) cause they end up pseudo married and ruling together (yay!)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope! too small a fandom writer for that and i'm ever thankful for it!

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

me? smut??? XD just look at the rating for each fic and the associated tags, i guess i do love developping characters through the very intimate act of them falling in bed together. no real kinky sex or anything, but there's often lots of hidden (and not so hidden) feelings behind the act. most smut i've written can be considered rough and/or passionate, since there's a kind of desperation born out of the characters thinking they only have that one single time to be with the other so they're giving their all. i do love exploring the vulnerabilities that come from that for sure!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

no i haven't. it's never really been my fav thing, but if done well, it'd read one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so, not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i had someone asking to translate one, yes.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

that i've written? aleksander/nikolai in gv for sure, aleksander/alina a close second. but as a reader, i just love love love the perfect OT3 that is alucard/trevor/sypha from castlevania (if you haven't read baba by crownofpins, GO READ IT NOW)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

none, i'm just terribly slow right now. life is throwing a ton of shit at me (dog being very sick, work is horrible, energy at the lowest point), but i keep daydreaming about each fic and slowly coming up with future parts in my head if not on paper.

16. What are your writing strengths?

ah man i don't know, getting into the character's head for which i'm writing the pov from, making their thoughts and feelings just as important as anything going on. i guess because of that i strongly favour inner conflict storylines.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

too wordy. also pantsing my way thru a fic instead of really sitting down and coming up with a plan ― we are the wild youth chasing visions of our future really forced me to come up with a strong plan, which i never would have been able to do without @theonewiththeory's immense help, girl i never would have been able to achieve what i did without you!! it is my first fic in english, the first one i wrote as an adult, and it shows, but i'm still proud of it! but i definitively continue to struggle with planning and too often i fall into the bad habit of vibing along with it. also, big external-conflict plotting is a hard thing for me, tho i wish i could become better at it since it's always so fun as a reader and i'm always impressed by writers who pull an intricate plot so flawlessly!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i'm not a fan of it. so often the other language is plain up butchered, and there are ways to do it without having to juggle the hassle of writing a dialogue in another language and needing to translate it so the reader knows what's going on. but as all things, they are exceptions to the rule and anything can be done well!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh man the lord of the rings (with a very mary sue oc even! but i remember having such self-indulging fun with that oc and all the research needed to flesh the story out) and the legend of zelda/ocarina of time (at least i went with link for my mc in this one!)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

when i was 12, i started a complete rewrite of ocarina of time which i of course never posted online. it was in french and i was only doing it for fun. but i still have one version of it and oh boy is it cringe-worthy XD big fail, i read that question as the first fic written ― my brain is really elsewhere these days. my fav fic is definitively with the sun against our back (gv, aleksander/nikolai) which became a comfort reread when i need to feel better by reading about familiar and intimate characters. the whole series (of monsters and men) is something i'm really proud of, even with its faults and misgivings, but that third and final part has left me with the biggest impact personally.

Tagging: i'll tag a few people (no pressure, it's only if you want of course!), but anyone else who see this and wanna do it too, have fun with it (and tag me! i wanna read about people <3)

@theonewiththeory, @ladyverdance/@greensaplinggrace, @inahandful-of-dust, @aloveforjaneausten, @fantomette22, @goatsandgangsters, @zizygy, @itsnotunfinisheditsmystyle

#tag game #my fic

21 notes · View notes

arenabreadandbiscuits · 3 months

Text

Nellie (OC) & Alastor - Breakfast Banter

Another commission finished ÙwÚ.

Thank you @hanaotaku95 for commissioning me! I really enjoyed writing this story and writing this interaction between the two, I would love to work again together if you are just as fine with the idea as I am.

Everyone enjoy but most importantly you!

🫶🏾

Word Count: 2,587 words

Scenario - Alastor and Nellie get to talk and know each other a bit better over morning breakfast.

Rating - PG

Warnings - None

She perks, the sound of footsteps coming to the kitchen where she occupied already caught her attention just as she was turning on the stove.

There's a variety of people that it could be and considering she doesn't hear any loud happy yelling she knows whoever it is can't possibly be Charlie, her older sister who was far too happy to have her here.

She stays quiet and he speaks up first.

“Oh hello Nellie, swell morning we're having isn't it?” Alastor greets her and she takes notice of how he's not as loud as she wonders of he's being considerate considering how loud he usually is.

Nellie hums in acknowledgement as she continues to keep an eye on the pan a little longer. Alastor approaches before leaning his back against the counter next to her and he finds himself watching her in interest as she cooks.

“Very much so,” she agrees with ease and then she takes this moment to look over and up to him before continuing. “Would you… like to try some?” She asks and really she just wants to see what he'll say, curious of how he'll respond and then again… he's an honest guy right? Their parents raised them to be big girls, she could handle some criticism if he had some to give and knowing Alastor usually he did.

She smiles a little and Alastor perks, looking up and around when a ding suddenly rings through the air and it's a familiar noise. There's a coffee pot, and it's just finished its cycle and he can smell it even from here. He has to admit that it smells good in here even though he's not necessarily a fan of cooked meat, usually preferring his meals raw out of everything else, though he was… tempted to try it with her.

“Well…considering you asked I guess I wouldn't mind a little bite.” He hums as he crosses one ankle over the other while holding his mic in his hands.

“So sure, why not?” He agrees and gives her a grin and Nellie playfully rolls her eyes at his behavior. She could practically see through him, see through his little antics from time to time but she does have to admit that she does find a bit of humor in him.

She hums and takes a moment to stir up the food just a bit more before it is finished and then she turns off the stove and walks off to get them a couple of things from the cabinet. She finds a couple of plates and coffee mugs and takes her time pulling them out, careful to not drop anything because who the fuck felt like cleaning broke glass this early? Alastor seems to take an even closer look at the meal and even with his normal diet he does feel interested.

Did she cook often and if so what was her favorite meal? Does she cook for others often? What about does she actually look up meal plans just to practice? Alastor finds himself wondering those things even when he's never really bothered to do so before with anyone else and on the subject of cooking nonetheless…

Charlie was always so eager and always so bubbly outside of those moments where she was stressed and Alastor can't help but find himself curious about both her and Nellie. About who she, Nellie, is even though Alastor has his personal issues with their father Lucifer.

He scoffs lightly suddenly at even the thought of the other man coming to mind and takes a moment to shake it off like swatting at a fly.

Sometimes he wondered if he was going crazy when Alastor found himself almost entertained whilst living in this hotel. It's been so long since he's felt this… content? It's hard for even him to explain but in this moment Alastor lingers, keeping an eye on the stove as Nellie sets everything up. She sets the plates neatly and the cups with them and Alastor wonders if he's just imagining the little pep she seems to have in her step as she moves around. It was rather charming that she had gone out of her way to do this and one might have wondered if she had taken the time to come to the kitchen at the time that she did because she knew she'd run into someone.

Alastor chuckles as she moves to get the skillet off the stove with her spatula and she scoops out their proportions before setting the skillet back aside to take hold of the coffee pot next. She's careful with it but moves quick enough to not hurt herself on accident and as she laced her fingers around to grip the pot she moves to pour them some into their cups.

Alastor doesn't show his tail, refuses to do so but if it was out right there and then it was as possibly that it'd be wagging a bit right now.

“So… you enjoy cooking?” He says to make a bit of small talk while she sets up their plates and once done she swings her arms open as if showing a grand prize or something to him. She clears her throat a moment after before giving a little shrug and a nod.

“Yes, I'll admit it's one of my niches. Mom and Dad taught us a bit when Charlie and I were younger.” She explains before chuckling a little.

“Though I admit that my talents in the kitchen definitely turned out better than Charlie's. You… didn't hear that from me though.” She says and there's a bit of a lighter tone in her voice as she does so and Alastor hums and then chuckles at the information. He takes it in and though he could say many things about her father and her mother he manages to hold his tongue, approaching her as she seems to wait for him to get closer.

“You seem to be good at it. I can admit that it's nice to see it looks edible.” He teases and Nellie seems to lift a brow at that only managing to take a bit of offense.

He stands beside her and Nellie scoots over a bit as he does so, his presence being not as spooky with him just comfortably enjoying his time with her.

“You're one to talk about what seems to be edible and not..” she seems to shoot back and Alastor grins just a bit harder at such a response, finding it humorous to hear. The girls always seemed to have their moments but he could definitely see it more so in Nellie, how she seemed to carry her energy with pride with not a single fuck given for anyone else.

Alastor lifts his brow at her and Nellie playfully shrugs and then he looks at his plate. It's nice, set up beautifully and the longer he seems to look at it distantly, he finds himself reminded of something like this from long, long, ago.

It's like a flashback of some sort which he doesn't tend to get often.

With the history he has after his years of being in Hell for so long as the overlord he is, his human life… was far and distant. At times though, he's had a moment… he's felt shivers thanks to the inklings of deja vu and it always felt so…freeing in the best and worst of ways possible.

He doesn't like to think about it often, how not being able to remember certain things annoys him and being able to remember others makes him feel even worse. Even now, he has to close his eyes for a moment and as he does so his brows furrow a little while he gathers himself. He takes in a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the scents that's in the air before slowly breathing them back out.

He looks back at her after a moment and gives her a wide grin just like was usually expected of him.

“It smells more than lovely. I can tell that however you learned you did a good job retaining the information.” He says and Nellie seems to perk a little. Did he just praise her? And so easily too without her even having to do much for it?

Nellie breathes out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in the period of him growing quiet.

Usually Alastor seemed to be able to talk all day long if they allowed him but when he had grown quiet because of …breakfast?

Nellie had carefully snuck a glance at him and the softened look she seemed to catch on his face was enough to make her eyes widen a little and her gaze linger before he seemed to pull himself out of whatever thinking process he had momentarily entered. It's an interesting sight, one that makes her eyes sparkle a bit just from seeing it on him. She wondered what made him, the Great Radio Demon himself, make such a face?

What could he possibly be thinking about?

She's curious, maybe… fascinated even but it's still far too early to really say.

After all, she was just keeping an eye on him because of the damage and harm he could cause.

“That's… sweet.” He says softly before setting his mic aside and leaning over the counter to take his fork which she also set out for him in one way. His shadows move to bring them both a seat and Alastor places himself in his with no hesitation.

Nellie perks at the appearance but after a moment she doesn't wait either and sits down in her chair as well.

Alastor of course seems to go after the meat first, taking a nibble and then humming in what seemed to be appreciation. He takes a full bite now, savoring the tastes and flavors he's getting and he isn't sure what it is exactly but he can admit he hasn't had the pleasure of enjoying a meal like this with another present in a really long time. It said a lot that he was even choosing to sit with her, usually he wouldn't even bother with most sinners but there was the fact that he was curious because of who she was… her title… her family but as they interacted and spent some time with each other Alastor found himself curious about other things. Things like her hobbies, her cooking and whatever else like that that would allow him to… actually know things about her.

Who was Nellie?

It was starting to feel like the million dollar question, and not completely for the same reasons that made him wonder about Charlie from time to time which was also interesting.

He's intrigued.

And usually once something had Alastor's interest it was hard for it or them to lose it.

“Is it… to your liking?” Nellie asks now and her voice is soft, careful as she awaits his answer while picking up her own fork and beginning to eat with him. Alastor leaves her on her toes, choosing not to answer immediately as he continues with his plate and he actually eats everything going from his meat to the other things like the eggs and potatoes. It's only when he swipes her finger along his plate, gathering some leftover sauce onto a finger and licking it clean, that he finally answers though considering how his plate looked she could make a few assumptions already. She doesn't attempt to say anything though, not yet as she waits to hear what exactly he had to say.

“Very much so. I can admit that usually I don't even bother to eat with others…” he hums.

“Many couldn't make a meal if it was to save their lives,” he chuckles a bit at his own words before finally taking hold of his coffee and moving the mug towards her. A wide grin placed on his lips as he looked at her. “However I will say that if you were to make me a meal again I'd be happy to dine with you.” He finishes and Nellie perks up a little at the invitation and she likes hearing such praise especially because Charlie was usually the only one to give it to her. Her, Razzle and Dazzle. Mom and Dad had said things before as well but that was rather… long ago. Back when they were little and all together, happy…

She manages to sadden herself before she can bother to thank him again and Alastor seems to notice the mood shift.

He looks at her for a moment longer before humming and with his free hand he takes it and moves to give Nellie a head pat. His palm was big and warm as it lightly ruffles her hair which makes her perk and look up at him in surprise. It's a form of endearment but she… doesn't seem to… completely hate it which was a surprise all in itself.

“You did a fine job.” He confirms before pulling that hand away to offer to clink their mugs together and Nellie quickly looks at her own before taking it in her hand. It's in this moment where Alastor notices the twinkle in her eyes and he can find similarities between the two princesses of Hell but Nellie really was an interesting addition to the Hotel. It makes him smile and he watches as Nellie takes her mug and clinks it against his own and then they both pull the mugs back to drink.

They both take a handful of swallows before then putting their mugs down with sighs of contentedness. It's so quiet outside of their own little sounds and noises, as if currently nothing else could ruin their meal together.

And really that's all either of them could ask for.

“Thank you,” she finally says now as she gives him a little smile in return, and it's even a little shy like in nature but happy with the praise nonetheless.

They continue to enjoy the morning though Nellie manages to finish her plate a bit later than Alastor but once the dishes are empty and the mugs are practically locked clean Nellie gets up with a little hum and gathers the dishes while Alastor summons a handkerchief to wipe his mouth clean of anything that may reside. The energy is calm, it feels nice and as Nellie places their dishes in the sink to be washed later she turns and looks back at Alastor once more and his shadows that seem to move the chairs back to their original spots as Alastor stands.

“Thank me for what? I'm not the one who made the spectacular meal we just shared?” Alastor says with a chuckle as he looks at her and their eyes connect before Nellie gives a light hearted shrug.

“No but you did eat all of it while telling me how good it was so… I appreciate it.” She explains and Alastor hums before lightly bowing his head in a polite gesture.

“The pleasure was all mine. I do look forward to next time so for now, keep it up.” He grins before vanishing in a pool of shadows and just like that… he is gone and Nellie can't help the smile that colors her lips as she turns on the sink and starts to wash up behind them while humming softly to herself.

She's in a much better mood than she could have imagined now.

~ ✨

18 notes · View notes

notmycircusnotmysilmarils · 2 years

Text

Ok but like. Princesses stuck in a tower who become penpals except it’s Aredhel and Lúthien and it changes the course of history.

Think about it. Both live inside a secret kingdom impossible for outsiders to find, they’re not allowed to invite anyone in, and they’re not allowed out because their kingly relative loves them very dearly and his people very dearly, but his love can be smothering and his healthy suspicion and vigilance can so easily become paranoia***

Anyway, even if she’s a princess, a girl can get SERIOUS cabin fever and go a little stir crazy

One day Aredhel decides she’s Big Tired of just sitting around in Gondolin, figures she’s gonna bully Turgon into letting her leave the city, but first to save herself an argument she’s gonna try writing a letter. Maybe it’s to her father, maybe it’s to Fingon, maybe it’s to Celegorm, who knows. Anyhow, she writes essentially: Hey, how’s life been, if I can’t feel the wind in my hair or the forest floor under my feet soon I’m going to lose it, xoxo Irisse. I’m gonna say say her family’s favor by Manwe—as seen by his Great Eagles giving them a hand a few times—extends down to all eagles, so she’s able to call a regular old eagle and asks it to deliver her letter.

Unfortunately, regular eagle is regular and regular birds make mistakes, so instead of going to anyone Aredhel knows, the bird gets lost over Doriath and ends up landing at the wrong royal hall. Lúthien’s the one to find the bird, and the letter. Now, we’re gonna assume that isolationist Gondolin would have no reason to learn Sindarin, so Aredhel’s probs writing this letter in Quenya.

I’m gonna make some assumptions here that during their time at Thingol’s court, Galadriel or Finrod taught the royal fam Quenya before Thingol banned it, so Lúthien knows what the letter says, but also oh, very interesting, not only did she get someone else’s mail, she’s gotten the mail of a Noldorin noble in a forbidden language. By all accounts, she should give this letter to her father.

Lúthien absolutely does not do that. She kidnaps the eagle, hides the letter, reads it over, and yeah something in her can sympathize with being stuck at home, and she can’t imagine not getting to go running through the forest freely whenever one wants. So, Lúthien takes the eagle who she’s already completely won over and is like “hey if I give you a new letter, can you return to sender?”

Aredhel gets a letter carrier back by eagle soon after that. It’s written in imperfect Quenya, and it can be summarized to: Irisse. Might want to get more reliable messengers, the bird carried your message to me. I don’t know you but sorry that’s happened, my dad won’t let me leave the house either. I can’t do anything about the wind in your hair, but here’s a little bit of that forest floor you were talking about. Xoxo Lúthien. Also attached to the eagle’s leg is a small pouch of leaves off the forest floor and a clump of dirt that falls on Aredhel’s lap and stains her skirts.

Aredhel of course is the type to instantly write back uh who the hell are you your Quenya needs work also thank you for the dirt I guess? She also sends back a flower from the tree next to her window. The eagle finds Lúthien again just fine, she responds with Like I said, I’m bored just like you, also do you even know Sindarin? Quenya’s illegal, u know. Also what flower is that, we don’t have those here.

This develops into a friendship as Lúthien teaches Aredhel Sindarin and Aredhel tells her stories about Valinor and everything there after explaining that the tree the flower came from was one of the seeds they brought over. Lúthien knew a bit about Galadriel and Finrod’s cousins, so she already knows she’s writing a kinslayer. Aredhel’s sharp and witty though, her love for nature and hunting is admirable, and besides Daeron it’s not like she’s ever really had a friend in Doriath even if everyone there does love their princess. Aredhel knows Turgon would probs freak a little upon realization that she’s been sending letters to an outsider that could technically compromise the location of Gondolin, but she’s been lonely too. Lúthien’s dry humor and bluntness remind her of the friends she’s had to leave behind, she has quality fashion sense, and she’s a great listener.

Lúthien actually is the one to finally convince Aredhel to ignore her brother’s wishes and leave to go visit Celegorm and Curufin. Yes, the world is dangerous, but he can’t hold you close forever. He needs to trust your resilience and your strength. Lúthien isn’t really all that impressed with However, Lúthien does possess her mother’s Maia blood, and just a bit of her intuition. The second Aredhel sets off from Gondolin, Lúthien has the feeling that something is wrong. She sends Aredhel five more letters that all go unanswered.

She then goes to her mother, who of course has known about this all along because nothing in Doriath gets past Melian—she figured it was harmless and therefore didn’t enlighten Thingol to what was happening—and asks her if she knows anything. Melian doesn’t, which is even more concerning. Lúthien convinces her to keep her ears and eyes out and proceeds to roam around Doriath looking for Aredhel herself.

Some events don’t change, so Aredhel still runs into Ëol, still becomes his wife, still becomes locked up again, this time in the dark. But this time, the trees and the birds and streams and the echoes have been listening, and eventually, the quite literal grapevine brings news of Aredhel back to Lúthien.

As you might recall, Lúthien Tinúviel once marched straight into Angband, kicked its lieutenant’s ass, and stole nearly her entire man minus one hand and a fucking Silmaril right out from under the nose of Morgoth himself. Ëol who doesn’t see her coming any more than a Vala had? Piece of cake.

Lúthien storms Ëol’s camp, puts the fear of living god into him, and hightails it out of there carrying a very pregnant Aredhel. She doesn’t really have much of a choice besides bringing her back to Menegroth with her.

Thingol, of course, is now suddenly in the know via “Lúthien why have you dropped a pregnant kinslaying Noldo woman on my doorstep” and he and Lúthien go at it over how exactly she got pregnant and whether Aredhel should be granted mercy and asylum or not. Melian says she’s on her daughter’s side but mostly stays our of it. It’s about a week and then Ëol shows up, as he still followed them. As Thingol is a bit more of a direct neighbor and threat to him, Ëol tries catching flies with honey before vinegar first this time. He goes on and on about how Princess Lúthien has bewitched and stolen his wife, his property, and it’s only fair that the honorable Woodland King would give her back to him.

This is the Wrong Angle to take of course as even when she’s fighting him Lúthien will always be Thingol’s baby girl, so of course he’s like “how dare you accuse my angel of being a vile seductress, she’s never done anything wrong in her life, I am gravely offended, and also kidnappers don’t deserve the wives they took against their will anyway”. Ëol then loses his cool and tries the poison blade trick, but Melian is literally right there in the room lmao so he doesn’t get anywhere near Thingol before he’s incapacitated. NOW he’s locked up for trying to assassinate the king of Doriath.

And suddenly Aredhel is free! She has her baby there and names him Lómion—though the name Maeglin ends up following him regardless but in a happier way this time, Lúthien giving it to him after noticing how observant he is. Anyhow, Thingol doesn’t let Aredhel stay once both she and Lómion are fit to travel, and after being locked up again with Ëol, she’s not quite ready to go back to Gondolin yet no matter how much she loves and misses Turgon and Idril—honestly she’s not too sure about raising her son there at all. She still sends him an eagle letter to tell him she’s alright after the radio silence.

So, first it’s off to see Fingolfin and Fingon for the first time in ages for a happy and tearful reunion. There’s the uncomfortable realization that now the High King of the Noldor kind of owes the King of Doriath a significant amount for saving and returning his daughter to safety. Of course when Thingol gets the “so what do you want to settle the debt”, he just responds with “STAY OFF MY FUCKING LAWN”, but also he doesn’t name an official thing he wants so Fingolfin’s still kinda indebted to him.

Aredhel is now able to visit Celegorm and Curufin like she wanted, able to bring Maeglin along with her now and he proves to be just as talented a smith under the instructions of Curufin and his son. Maeglin doesn’t spend too much time with the Feanorions though because no matter how you wanna define Gil Galad’s relationship to Fingon, I’m like 90% sure Maeglin’s older than him, which gives Fingon an heir, which makes Maeglin now third in line for the throne, which is a WILD concept.

Aredhel isn’t allowed back to visit Lúthien officially (though she still sometimes sneaks her in), so there is much more letter writing between the two, and they stay close. Also Ëol rots in the Menegroth dungeons forever so he never kills Aredhel OR Maeglin.

And I will end with the stating that between Aredhel being alive, Aredhel being friends with both Lúthien AND Celegorm, and the High King of the Noldor now owing Thingol a debt of his choice that he can collect on whenever he wants, all of this means that when Thingol has Beren go after a Silmaril……. things either go much better, or so much worse.

***yes I know Thingol let the Sindar come and go from Doriath, but just going off of their relationship in Beren and Lúthien, I feel he’s a bit less eager to let his daughter go so far beyond the girdle.

#the silmarillion #aredhel #lúthien #tolkien

3 notes · View notes

ringsofaureus · 4 months

Text

Rambling? I don't know, but I sure am writing.

It was market day for the town, so Ceraon decided to take the wayward human for a trip around the market. Ever the recluse, Siobhan left all the talking up to her avain-feline friend, content to stay on the sidelines and watch Ceraon converse with his fellow townsfolk. With the shock of a human finally subsided (Siobhan guessed it was the presence of already sentient myriad of creatures that quickly wore away the shock of a new one in town,) she wasn't getting as many stares and whispers that followed her around in her first few days here. Siobhan's own bizarre culture shock wore off as well, opening her eyes to the kinds of once-fictional creatures inhabiting the town. The settlement began as Gryphon only inhabitants, but the current day showcased pegasi, unicorn, hippogryph, gnoll, some sort of winged cat, and even an (apparently) elusive kitsune.

She became acutely aware of her staring at the sleek, black fox when their face shifted away from their wares blanket to wink at her with a smile. Siobhan gave a (probably!) polite nod and smile back.

Ceraon, of course, noticed.

"Why don't you go say hi? See if Katsura might have any knowledge of how to get you home." the gryphon suggested. He was trying to get Siobhan to be more social with his fellow inhabitants.

"No way am I talking to someone that cool, and besides, we already put out a town-wide notice on any information for Earth, or any sort of world-hopping," she responded, trying not to think about how embarrassing it was to put up the notice in the first place. Social ineptitude aside, she needed to find a way back.

"Besides," she continued, "you've probably already talked to them about me if you know their name already."

With that, the outgoing Gryphon gave a pause.

"Actually, I haven't. He doesn't come around often, and I've only previously interacted with him a claw-full of times. Mostly, he's a bit of a recluse himself. Maybe you two could get along!"

"Pfft, based on what? Both being introverts? Real nice topic to start a relationship on." Despite the snarky deflection, Siobhan hesitated her next step. There was a chance the kitsune might know something, being out of the loop from the rest of the town, and she was getting a little stir-crazy about not finding any real information in the town library.

"You know what, scratch that. I might check myself. I'll head back to the bakery when I'm done." She turned on her heels and wheeled back toward the spot this 'Katsura' set up shop.

"Have fun bonding over boring book stuff!" Ceraon called behind her.

With an eye-roll, she let him have the last word, knowing her comebacks always left him scrambling.

#writing #rambles #ignore me

0 notes

derinthescarletpescatarian · 4 years

Text

Infection

I was twenty three when the angel bit me. Stupid, really; I should have seen the danger. A figure hunched in an alley, wearing a coat too large and a scarf too fluffy for the weather, eyes constantly tracking upward to the sky. But I just thought it was some poor homeless person who might need help.

I don’t even know what message the angel was carrying. It never passed it to me. I went over, calling out, and it just sat there, shivering in the alley. I’m not stupid; I stopped at the mouth of the alley, well out of reach. Or so I thought. I certainly hadn’t expected the figure to launch to their feet, push themselves forward with two powerful wingbeats, and sink their teeth directly into my arm.

I know, I know; stupid. But I’d never seen an angel before! Who has, these days? I did the only sensible thing, kicking the beast off me and running home to disinfect the wound. I told myself that the transmission rate was very low. It was almost certainly fine. Almost certainly.

I didn’t go to hospital. What could they have done for me, other than shut me in a small room and look on with nervous pity? No. It was probably fine. Even when the messages started singing in my mind.

It wasn’t until a whole month later, when I had my parents around for dinner, that I was forced to confront the reality of my situation. My mother heard me humming the song as I cut potatoes and asked what it was. I told her it was nothing, just something I’d heard on a passing radio that was stuck in my head. Oh, what was it about? I didn’t know; it was in some foreign language, wasn’t sure what one.

Thinking back, I’m not sure if I genuinely believed my own explanation. But what I couldn’t deny were the feathers.

They were too small for my mother to see them. I wouldn’t have even noticed, if I hadn’t been staring at my own knuckles, concentrating on avoiding them with the knife, but the hairs on my fingers were unusually thick and pale, a soft white down covering the flesh. I grabbed a magnifying glass and fled to the bathroom.

Yes. Feathers. Not the full, stiff bird feathers you’re thinking of; these were thick hairs that split into thinner ones, fanning out into tiny, soft flat almond shapes of down. I pulled every one of them out with tweezers before returning to lunch, explaining the redness away as the effect of a new dish soap.

They were back in the morning, of course.

The growth was halfway up my hands by the time I woke up and plucked them; on the third day, it reached my wrists. By the end of the week there were fully formed feathers growing, leaving little holes in my skin where I pulled them out. I kept plucking, and took to wearing gloves.

The plucking helped. If I let the feathers be, the messages sang louder in my head, and I could feel my bones start to reshape by the time the feathers hit my elbows. Keeping the feathers back slowed the growth. Slowed, but didn’t stop. By the end of the month, my gums were tender and swollen behind my teeth and the messages were singing so loudly in my head that I covered up and headed to the loudest club I could find o drown out the song. I met a nice man, Daniel, who spoke slowly and clearly when it was clear I was having trouble understanding him even in the quieter parts of the club, and I deliberately drank myself into a state where going back to his place would seem like a good idea.

With the alcohol dulling my anxiety, the song was glorious. It rolled over me in waves as I rested my head on Daniel’s shoulder in the taxi home, it swelled and subdued with our movements as we discovered each other in his bed. As he lay there, restful and content, and the messages still thrummed through my skull, electrifying every nerve within me, I mused on what a pity it was that we hadn’t truly shared the experience. I longed, more than anything, to share the song with him.

And I could feel the needle-like teeth pushing their way through my gums, behind my normal teeth, fresh and sharp and just long enough to cut. I ran one hand down the side of his peaceful face, and knew exactly what I had to do.

I took a taxi home. I fished the pliers out of my garage, sterilised them in vodka, and ripped the new teeth out one by one, leaving a bathroom sink of blood and white bone needles. With every extraction, the song in my head quieted a little more until it was at its normal distracting buzz. It didn’t hurt as much as you’d expect; they weren’t anchored in my jaw like real teeth. It was like tearing out a row of thorns; painful, but relieving in its own way. An invader in my body gone, and when the wounds healed, all would be well.

Except I already knew that they wouldn’t get the chance to heal, not properly. By morning, I could feel new teeth forming, and within two weeks, they were breaking through once more. I tore them out every time. I couldn’t risk succumbing to the desire to share the song.

I still couldn’t understand the messages in the song. As time went on, I could sense the shape of it, but I still didn’t know what the words meant. Well, not words, the… you know what I mean. Sometimes there were smaller messages, little bits I understood; things to whisper to the pizza delivery man, to send to an old high school friend on facebook, to write among other graffiti on a wall. I never saw the eventual results of these things, but passing them on calmed the itch of the song for a little while. The big one though, the base of the whole melody, was well beyond my reach.

My arms bleed all the time now. The feathers come thick and fast and the skin can’t heal before I need to pluck them again. The bathroom is full of feathers and teeth; there are too many to easily dispose of without drawing notice. Maybe there’s a way to burn the feathers. I’m not sure what to do about the teeth. Bury them in the garden, perhaps?

Not that I’ve tended the garden in some time. I rarely go outside any more; the sky is out there, and I love it too much. It’s entrancing, a home I am desperate to reach. But I suppose I should give up fighting, really. It became pointless a few days ago.

Because a few days ago, when I opened the door for the pizza delivery guy, I saw where the message is coming from.

It’s a point, high in the sky. Okay, yeah; that’s obvious. But I know what specific point now. I looked over the man’s shoulder and, in the shifting shadows of traffic headlights, I saw the base of the ruined tower that humanity built so many generations ago to try to reach us. My predecessors struck it down and scattered them, and there’s nothing there now, of course, but I saw it. Right under the message. Right under my home. Up there, where all languages are one, I will understand the message with perfect clarity, I will sing every syllable perfectly, I will know what it is that I am declaring and who it is for. (That’s the thing that really gets me about all this; I don’t know who I’m carrying this message to.) And I don’t need a tower to get there. I can fly.

I locked the door behind the pizza guy and moved every piece of furniture I owned against the doors and windows to trap myself inside. But I’ve decided it doesn’t matter. I’ve decided to let the feathers grow.

What else am I to do? Keep fighting to keep my arms until they get infected? Try to trap out an endless song while I dream of the sky and slowly wilt in a tomb of dead feathers? Whether I let myself change or not, the song is growing stronger, and I know where it comes from now. At some point, I will try to reach it. At some point, I will climb the highest building I can find, and jump.

When that happens, would I rather fall to the pavement, a victim of my own stubborn fear of change?

Or would I rather fly?

#I respond to being stir crazy by writing I guess #I didn't proofread this in any capacity #so have fun #short story #creative writing

240 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 3 years

Text

meet me behind the mall | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: smut sigh, fluff kinda

→ warnings: exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, slight ? degredation, calls her a slut once, fingering, handjob, oral (m. and f. receiving), choking, spitting, cum eating / swallowing, unprotected sex, facial (this term is so 😭) lmk if i miss anything plz

→ word count: 3.3k

summary: jungkook makes you live for the thrill of it all.

note: this was an impulsive write idk what possessed me today frends but have at it >_> semi proofread it’s 5am goodbyr

—

it’s one of the things you first learned about him. jungkook loves taking photos. he loves capturing moments with a simple click of a camera. he finds an unexplainable comfort and bittersweet nostalgia in finding old photographs in his drawer, in his pockets, tucked in between the pages of his textbooks. it’s like finding little treasures all over the place, you can hear his voice in your head, can see the pretty twinkles of passion and fondness in his pretty doe eyes.

so when he told you all about the new photobooth at the arcade, followed by a text that simply said meet me behind the mall, you didn’t particularly imagine that you would end up in this position. you can see the shutter going off even though your eyelids are closed as jungkook’s tongue is basically shoved down your throat. your panties is pulled to the side and two of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your cunt, curling deliciously to stimulate your sweet spot that has your thighs shaking uncontrollably every fucking time.

how naive of you to think that your boyfriend spontaneously texted you at eight in the evening to meet up and simply take cute couple pictures in film. of course, you do have a fair share of scandalous photos, but they’re all conveniently stored and locked away in your phones. this is something entirely new and as embarrassing it is to admit, thrilling. yourself from one year ago never would’ve guessed what her future self is doing right now. how the desires in you can easily be fueled to life just by the trailing of jungkook’s fingers on the smoothness of your thighs, his lips nipping at your neck, or even the simple thought of having his cock filling you up to the brim.

you can’t help but to giggle against his mouth. all of your senses are heightened at this moment, your heart beating aggressively in your chest. he pulls away slightly but his gaze stays on your pink and swollen parted lips, drunk eyes taking in your disheveled state.

“what’s going in that pretty little mind of yours?” he smirks, thumb sneakily rubbing your clit. you try your best to hold out your moan but a broken whine comes out, your head throwing back against the wall of the limited space you’re both squeezed into. only a black curtain and an ‘occupied’ sign in red bold and capital letters separated you from the world outside, where games are being played by people of all ages; loud sound effects and songs from the 2000’s and 2010’s mixing into an ear numbing noise that can only be recognized from an arcade center; and tickets gathered are being exchanged for cute stationary items and trinkets.

“you’re so, so dirty.” you say to him, eyes rolling back as his fingers never let up on their toe curling pace, only making you lose your inhibitions and self-control more than anything else. you clench around them involuntarily, drenching his hand with your juices. “was this your plan all along?”

your eyes widen in shock when the sound of his palm slapping your bare cunt filled the booth, the stinging pain registering in your mind next. “are you fucking crazy? someone might hear!” you whisper angrily at him, but his dark and blown out eyes made you shrink back in your seat. his intimidating, and almost condescending, expression have you gushing against his hand that is now petting your pussy to soothe the pain he inflicted.

“watch your mouth. you and this fucking skimpy dress are the only ones dirty here. you know what this shit does to me.” he smiles at you sweetly. “are you sure this was my plan? are we playing mind games here, baby girl?” his hand comes down from your face to play with the cloth of your blue dress, the other thrusting two of his fingers in you again, then adding another. the stretch has you gripping tightly on his shirt, not having anything else to hold on to.

“fuck, ahhh- jungkook. don’t stop.” god, you are dripping all over, your wetness staining your seat. it makes your cheeks flush in shame.

“just wanted to look pretty for you, i-is all.” you mewl at him, blinking innocently. the camera is not forgotten by jungkook. in fact, it’s one of the things getting him more riled up. the almost blinding light of the flash shines on your soft skin, and the sweat that has formed on your temples and your neck. your pupils are blown and eyelids drooping caused by the pleasure he is giving you. it’s visible how difficult it is for you to keep in all your noises from the people outside the damn curtain when you’re so lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you. all because of him. your fucked out state got jungkook gritting his teeth, his dick twitching inside his pants. jesus christ, you get him so fucking turned on and desperate for it without even trying. your beauty is seductive and enchanting and effortless. there is no point in hiding how crazy he is for you.

“my pretty girl. you dressed yourself all nice for me?” he presses a chaste kiss on your lips, before he wraps his hand around your throat, pressing at the right places just enough to make your mind all fuzzy. “i’m such a lucky man. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back at the back of your head at the all consuming feeling taking over senses. you don’t think you can answer correctly if ever someone asks for your name or the colors of the goddamn traffic signs. “y-yeah, for you, of course. love you so much.”

he gives you a satisfied hum, moving down to squeeze one of your breasts with his large hand before pinching your nipple from outside the cotton of your dress. “mhmm, holy fuck. you’re always so sensitive. so easy to please. am i making you feel good?” you don’t know how he can act so casual while you’re basically falling apart in his hands, but for some sick reason, it stirs up the arousal in your belly even more.

“y-yes, kook, i’m so close, please, please, please,” you cry out desperately, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you squeeze his fingers with your walls uncontrollably. “wait, ohhh, stop. stop. i can’t cum here. i- it’s gonna be a mess, this is so embar- fuck, jungkook!” your squeal dies down in your throat when your boyfriend kneels on the ground and starts sucking your clit in his mouth as his fingers inside of you became more aggressive, hitting all the right places that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your desperate and whiny sounds, suddenly becoming aware of where the two of you are right now.

you grip his hair with your hands to steady yourself and unconsciously grind your cunt against his face, his eager tongue doing very sinful things for the sole purpose of making you come undone. he pulls you closer to the edge with his strong arm so he can have better access, eating you out like a man feasting on the divine food of the gods. divine. that’s one perfect word to describe you.

he flicks your clit teasingly before wrapping his pink and plump lips around it again. the overwhelming sight almost makes you want to burst into tears. “hmm, cum for me, baby.” your body jerks in his hold, his words of permission acting as the trigger for your orgasm. he drinks you up greedily, his tongue replacing his fingers’ place in fucking into you, letting you ride out your high.

he comes up to kiss you, making you taste yourself in his mouth. you can even feel his wet chin. you moan against him when two fingers dip inside you again, and then he’s having you suck on them almost too enthusiastically. you’re still in a daze from your release, and with jungkook, you’re basically down for anything and everything. you open your eyes to meet his, and if you aren’t already fucked out with his fingers choking you, his hooded eyes will have reduced you into a blabbering mess.

“you’re always so good to me.” he says with a raspy voice. he takes out his fingers and wipes it on his shirt before pulling you in for another kiss. “let’s get out of here so i can fuck you properly like my girl deserves, okay?” you nod meekly, trying to hide your excitement. he fixes you up to make you look presentable enough to walk in public, combing your hair with his fingers and straightening out your dress.

“can’t forget these. don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. it’s for my eyes only.” he gathers all the developed films from the booth, facing you with a teasing smile.

“for your eyes only.” you agree, looking up at him. you open the small backpack you brought along with you and he stuffs them all inside mindlessly, his cock still straining painfully in his pants and he might just lose his mind if he’s still not inside of your pussy in the next five minutes.

“can’t walk properly,” you whine out once you step out of the booth, your boyfriend supporting you by the waist.

“sorry, baby.” he presses an apologetic kiss on your temple. “but i’m not done with you yet.” he really doesn’t give a fuck if anyone heard the both of you at all, but he knows that you’re starting to worry, so he makes sure that you keep your eyes on him as you walk your way out of the place.

“are we going to your place? or mine?” you ask once you get out, the cool air of the mall embracing you. you shiver lightly. your boyfriend doesn’t respond, but when he starts dragging you towards the movie theater that is just beside the arcade, you realize the answer to your question.

“jungkook, really?” you hiss at him, but don’t make any efforts to stop him as he leads you to the restrooms.

“i’m so fucking hard right now, babe. i can’t wait anymore.” they’re about to close up in an hour, so the place is basically deserted. but still, you can’t believe what you’re about to do right now. he peeks in the women’s and once he made sure it’s clear, you go in to the farthest cubicle.

“damn woman,” his throaty chuckle makes your center throb again as you immediately pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers, his big cock slapping against his stomach. you lick a stripe from his balls up to his tip, then gathering saliva in your mouth and letting it drip down his length. his breathing gets heavier at the sight of doing such a filthy action without him asking you to. he strokes your cheek as you jack him off and give his head kitten licks, your spit acting as an effective lube.

“put it in your mouth now, baby.” he says softly, grasping your hair to guide your mouth on his cock. “choke on it, yeah?” you hum in submission to his request, relaxing your throat to take in as much of him as you can. you start to bob your head up and down to get used to the feeling, your hand still wrapped around the few inches left.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this. i’ve been thinking about it all day.” his confession made you all warm inside. you’ve always wondered how you managed to become his girlfriend. sometimes, it feels to good to be true. knowing the effect you have on him even when you’re not around made you even more determined to blow his damn mind. to be the only star of his wildest dreams.

you go down on him until your nose reach his pubic area, carefully breathing out through it. “oh my god, that’s my girl.” he thrusts his hip forward and holds your head down in place, making you choke on him like he wanted to. his moans sends tingles to your pussy and you rub your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to relieve yourself of some pressure. he lets you breathe in some air before you take him in your mouth again, swallowing around his length as you move your head up and down.

“ohhh, fuck. your mouth is s-so warm. you like this huh? sucking me off outside our rooms for the first time?” he can’t help but to move his hips as well, instinctively following your mouth. your moans vibrate on his dick, and he hisses at the added sensation. “and you called me what? so, so dirty? turns out you’re just as fucking filthy, baby.” and there it is again, the mischievous smile on his face that makes your knees (that you’re sure will be bruising soon enough) weak. you know that he’s right. you can’t help but to whimper around him when you feel wetness drip from your hole. you want to touch yourself so bad but your hands on your boyfriend’s flexing muscular thighs are what’s keeping you steady and grounded.

“ohh- ah, fuck fuck fuck! are you fucking kidding me?” his body jerks when you take all of him and stay still, contracting your throat around him and massaging his balls in your small and soft hand. his brain goes on a frenzy at the waves of pleasure rippling in his body, sweat rolling down his temples and abdomen working hard to stop himself from cumming down your throat. “s-shit, stop it, stop it, stop, i’m gonna blow my load.”

you pull him out with a pop, hand gripping his base to keep his orgasm at bay. his glassy eyes meet your own, and you give him a wink. “are you gonna fuck me now?”

a shiver runs up jungkook’s spine. “you’re so fucking hot. come here.” he helps you get up and snakes his tongue in your mouth, pinning you on the other side of the cubicle. his hand sneaks in under your dress to cup your center, groaning against your mouth when he felt how wet you are. “shit, you’re soaking. did you get this turned on by sucking my dick?”

“really turned on. i love blowing you.” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger, blinking up at him with a smile.

“you’re actually killing me here.” he chuckles, squeezing your ass and pulling you close to grind himself on you. he drags down your panties until you step out of them, throwing it on top of your backpack. he tucks your hair behind your ear and whispers. “jump.” you obey, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he pumps his cock a few times before teasingly running the tip along your wet folds, a nudge on your clif making you moan quietly. “put it in, please. jungkook? i’ve been good, right?”

“shhh, i got you.”

you hold on to his neck tightly as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure. it’s amazing how you can feel so stretched out from the very beginning, only his tip yet breaching your walls. you never really got used to it. “you’re so big, kook.” you cry out against his shoulder as he sinks his entire length into you. your praise inflates his ego. he lets you adjust for a moment, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder.

when you gave him the signal, he begins thrusting into you, gradually picking up to a rough and unforgiving pace he knows you like. the lewd squelching sounds of your connected sex filled the empty room.

“sh-should’ve done this sooner. ahh fuck, why does this feel so good?” you’re out of your mind. you can’t remember a time you felt this horny. and to be brutally honest, he’s fucking you dumb right now. you can feel every ridge of his cock in you, can feel his tip furiously and consistently stimulating the spot in you that has you writhing in his arms, that along with his pelvis grinding against your clit each time he fucks back into you.

“jesus, are you hearing yourself right now? you like doing it outside with me, baby?”

“yes, yes! oh, harder, please. m-more, i’m close again.” you sob out, biting on his shoulder to cover your cries.

“can’t believe i got myself a filthy little slut here.” he shakes his head in mock disbelief, adjusting his hold on you and fucking you with a much fiercer drive to make you cream on his cock this time. “f-fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” he breathes out a laugh followed by a broken moan, your soft walls enveloping him in your wamth. “cum when you need to, hmm? you’ve been so good to me.”

you mutter countless thank you’s mixed with your moans and whimpers, the pleasure getting too much to bear. you throw your head back as you orgasm on your boyfriend’s cock, clenching around him uncontrollably as he fucks you through it, desperate to reach his own high. your juices drip down to his balls, and it makes him crazier. he takes the opportunity create marks on your neck, sucking and biting red and purple on your skin.

it’s not long before overstimulation takes place, but you don’t complain, not when it feels this good. another orgasm hits you, not as intense as the first two, but it still got you seeing stars and your body shaking against the wall.

“did you just cum again? oh god, fucking shit. i’m there- so fucking close. you feel so- oh, so good. love you. love you a lot.”

“i want to swallow your cum.” your voice is barely there, but jungkook hears you just fine. he almost chokes on his own spit upon registering your words in his brain. without wasting any time, he sets you down on the floor and you kneel infront of him, mouth open and tongue out.

he jacks himself off while you generously lick at his frenulum, looking up at him expectantly. the sight of you all eager and impatient for his cum finally triggers his release, aiming for your tongue but some still landing on your cheeks and chin as he’s too overwhelmed and shaken to see straight. you swallow happily, licking the rest from your fingers.

“god, i love you.” he says quietly, pulling you up from the floor and embracing you, but you wiggle out of his grasp.

“love you too but gross, gross, gross. i need to go home and shower.” you whine out, twirling as you try and fix your appearance again.

“not you acting like a brat once you got what you wanted.” he pinches your waist jokingly. he takes tissue from the dispenser to clean up the wetness that dripped down all the way to your thighs, being the loving boyfriend that he is.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you pout at him. “i’m so tired and gross. i hate you.”

“are you asking for it again?”

“no, i swear to god. you owe me a bubble bath and a massage.”

“okay, fine. my place then.” he gives up, shaking his head with a laugh at your change of mood. “i love you. can i get a kiss then?”

you tiptoe to reach him, slightly pulling him down by the collar of his shirt to give him a smooch. “i love youuu.”

once you both make yourself presentable (again) to the best of your abilities, you head out of the restroom first. you notice the cashier at the popcorn place eyeing you suspiciously, especially when jungkook comes out to meet you a few minutes later. you hide yourself behind him in shame.

you walk out of the mall with his hand over your shoulder, yours on his waist. you look at him questioningly when he covers your neck with more of your hair. “maybe i made a little too much.” he winces apologetically.

“we are never doing that again.” you sigh, your legs still feeling weak but you will yourself to make it all the way to the parking lot.

“what? you said you liked it!”

“it was during the moment. i was delirious.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “you’re lying. let’s see, because that’s also what you said the first time we tried choking.”

“jungkook! shut up!”

—

note: i never know how to finish these runs and hides

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #bts fluff #bts smutt #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook

1K notes · View notes

highdramas · 3 years

Text

it’s rotten work | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, general talk about illness/stomach flu

word count: 1.7k!

summary: you have the stomach flu. bucky takes care of you. somewhere in there, love is confessed.

note: here’s another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like! just a heads up i wrote this SUPER quick and it is not proofread but the thought of bucky taking care of me when i’m sick....... ya i just had to write it

enjoy! <3

“doll?”

you’re not sure when you padded out to the living room. you’re not even sure how you managed to get the bowl to set next to you, in case your stomach turned again. and you’re really not sure how you even thought to put a few cubes of ice in the mug full of water that sits on the coffee table.

all you had known was your stomach was a pit of fire and your head was pounding and you are an absolute baby when it comes to feeling ill. and bucky is finally beginning to sleep through the night in the bed that you two share. he doesn’t need to be woken by your moaning and groaning.

apparently, you had drifted off into sleep at some point. and apparently, bucky had noticed. you shouldn’t say apparently as if it’s so shocking. bucky pays attention to just about everything when it comes to you. you’re sure that the second he reached his arm out and felt nothing but the sheets, he sprung from the mattress.

you’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness for you don’t know how long. it was nearly two in the morning when you wandered out of the bedroom, and as you scramble to grab your phone, it reads 3:07am back at you.

“doll, what’s goin’ on?” bucky sits on the edge of the couch and his hand goes to your bare thigh, rubbing your skin, and you note that he is shirtless.

“don’t feel good,” you mumble and cover your eyes with your forearm. “didn’t want to wake you up.” you pause and look at him. “you look so good. ‘s not fair.”

bucky scoffs and he pushes your arm away, placing his hand on your forehead. “jesus, you’re fucking burning.” you faintly feel his hand moving down the side of your face. “you should’ve gotten me.”

“didn’t want to wake you up,” you repeat and you finally open your eyes. he’s looking down at you with an incredulous smile, that somehow manages to mix irritation and adoration. “or get you sick.”

“i don’t care about that.” you’re sure with the serum he couldn’t even catch a cold. “one second.”

you begin to push yourself up, protests on your lips, but bucky shakes his head and gently pushes you back into the couch. “stop. let me take care of you.”

oh.

there’s something simple inim the words that stirs your stomach.

and you promptly grab the bowl and throw up into it.

bucky’s not gone long once he hears you. he has a hair tie on his wrist and various other items which he sets on the coffee table before he scrambles to pull your hair back. you’re hunched over with the bowl in your lap and a pout on your lips. you look at him and say, “i’m sorry, this is so not sexy.”

you throw up into the bowl once more.

despite tying your hair back, bucky keeps one hand tangled in it, the other rubbing circles on your back. “i always think you’re sexy.” cue a gag. “even now.”

you pull back and look at him with furrowed brows. “shut up.”

bucky grins and he wipes your mouth with a damp towel. you slacken slightly as he holds you, as he takes care of you. your mind is nothing but a fog, but at the center of it is bucky. bucky’s touch, bucky’s hold, bucky’s soft voice in your ear. “i think i fell in love with you the first time i saw you,” you begin to babble, your head falling to the side. whether it’s the fever or the exhaustion or a mix of both, you’ll never know. “when you asked to help build kitty’s tower.” you point to where it now lives in the corner of his apartment. “look at your handiwork. you did such a great job. how could i not fall in love with you?”

bucky stills. the two of you have passed many firsts. hell, you two live together for christ’s sake. however, there is one thing that has never passed either of your lips.

i love you.

you continue. “it’s so easy, too,” you say, your head lolling to the side. “to love you. you’re so hard on yourself, buck. but it’s easy as-- it’s easy as breathing.” you smile and it quickly dissipates as you feel your stomach twist again. “god, i’m so sorry you’re doing this.”

“don’t be,” he says, and his voice is husky.

you love him.

he should’ve guessed, right? because he is in perfect agreement with you. he has loved you since he has known you.

slowly, you lean your head on his shoulder and he holds you, setting the bowl down onto the ground beside you. “i feel like you’re not going to believe me,” you mumble. “how much i love you. you never believe me.”

“doll…”

“it’s true!” you pull back, and your eyes are glassy. you fall back onto the couch and you once again place your arm on your forehead. “i wish you could understand.”

“understand what?”

blue eyes lock onto yours. “how deserving you are of good things in the world.” you stretch your legs out across his lap.

you don’t give him much chance to respond before you’re pressing your hand to your forehead and groaning. bucky opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the words, before he shakes his head. not the time. “here,” he grabs the bottle of ibuprofen he’d found in the cabinet and the mug full of water you’d fetched for yourself when you initially stumbled out into the living room. “let me help you. can you sit up?”

nodding, you push yourself up again. he taps your chin lightly, and you open your mouth. he places two pills onto your tongue and he holds the back of your head, handing you the water. a shaky hand takes it and you tip your head back, downing nearly the entire glass. “thank you,” you look at him. “you don’t have to do this. i would’ve been fine.”

“didn’t you just say something about being deserving of good things?” bucky studies you. “that applies to you, too.”

“i didn’t realize puking all over my boyfriend was a good thing.”

he rolls his eyes and you laugh. even when you feel like shit, you’re laughing, bucky notes. it’ll never be lost on him how lucky he is to get a front row seat to that laugh every single day. the two of you sit in quiet for a long time. he gets another damp rag and puts it on your forehead. he sits on the opposite side of the couch and he runs his fingers up and down your legs, making smoothing circles.

when you open your eyes again, sunlight is beginning to stream in through the windows.

bucky is still sitting in the same position, but now, he’s watching the tv, and he seems to have found a t shirt. no sound omits from the tv, but you watch as his eyes take in the subtitles at the bottom of the screen. as you begin to stir, his head snaps to look at you. “hey.”

you rub your eyes, and you’re already feeling a hell of a lot better than you did last night. “what time is it?”

“almost noon.”

bucky has clearly done some cleaning. the bowl from last night is gone and replaced with a new one, clean and empty beside you. there’s a new glass of water on a coaster next to you, as well as more medicine and some saltine crackers. you rub at your neck, trying to recall the events of last night. the things you said.

how could i not fall in love with you?

your heart plummets. you fix your eyes on him and he sits up a little bit straighter. “are you feeling alright?”

“oh my god,” you breathe, and you cover your face with your hands. “i’m so sorry.”

bucky pulls your hands away, scooting closer to you. “doll, no. don’t be sorry--”

“no, i am!” you press your hand to your cheek. “i throw up all over you, probably sweated all over you-- like, ew! and then, i incoherently mumble about how much i love you?! buck, that’s not the way that i wanted to tell you. not at all.” frustrated tears begin to rear their ugly head. “i’m sorry,” your apology is not more than a whisper.

bucky doesn’t seem to mind any of that, though. “you remember?”

“of course i remember!” you fall back and bucky takes your hand.

“doll…” bucky looks at you. “doll, c’mere.”

stubborn as ever, you stay where you’re at, embarrassment written all over your face. his hands pull you up and finally, you look at his eyes. “i’ve loved you since that night, too.” his words are soft, almost nervous, though you could never understand why. “i thought that maybe you were just… you know, when you’re feverish, you can say crazy things. i didn’t want to--”

you can’t help it, a laugh breaks free from your lips. “that is so like you,” your words are laced with fondness. “i confess my love to you, and you think it’s the fever talking.”

his cheeks go pink. you lick your lips and you hold his face in your hands. “i meant it.” you nod your head, biting down on your lip. “i meant all of it.”

it’s as if you can see the physical weight that lifts from bucky’s shoulders. he breathes a bit lighter, his smile is a bit easier. “i love you,” you insist. “forever, buck.”

bucky’s hand goes back to that spot on the back of your neck, pushing past the tangled knot that your hair has turned into. “i love you,” he says, and he leans in.

his lips barely brush yours before you scoot back, shaking your head. “no, no.” you laugh and move to stand up. “you had to see me throw up everywhere, i’m not going to make you kiss me with vomit breath.”

bucky grabs your hand, holds your face in those tender hands of his, and he presses his lips against yours. the kiss is slow, and it is sweet. when he pulls back, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “i’ve seen a lot of bad shit, sweetheart,” he pecks your lips again. “i’m not scared of a little puke.”

you fall in love with him over and over and over again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #the world's a little blurry #my writing

777 notes · View notes

meltwonu · 3 years

Text

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | [CHAPTER 5] [FINAL]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, restraints, blindfolds, daddy!kink, dirty talk, sex toys, using panties as a gag, forced orgasms, squirting! 🥴💕oMG YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER WTF 😭😭😭 I just wanna say thank you so much for all the love and support you all have given me while writing Caffeine and Until I Met You I really cannot believe any of this… It’s crazy to me that you guys liked this fratboy wonwoo au so much… I really appreciate it! And expect some spin off chapters in the future! I already have 3 planned ☠️ Also, I mention it all the time but I never expect any of my fics to get this much love so every time I’m just shocked 😭 literally sitting here blushing just thinking about it 😭😭💕dfsdffds Also this is almost 4500 words so… strap in 😎🥴 Enjoy the last chapter, inbox roundup tmr and I love you so so so so much 💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 COMPLETE

Wonwoo stares at himself in the mirror, lips pursed and brows furrowed.

“I don’t know.”

Mingyu and Minghao both sigh; the latter throwing his arms up in defeat when Wonwoo grimaces in the mirror’s reflection. “Hyung, you haven’t liked anything we dressed you in. Why don’t you trust us?”

Mingyu places his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders - squeezing the padding in the blazer as he meets the older male’s stare in the mirror.

“This is a date, right?”

“I mean… Yeah? I guess?” Wonwoo mumbles, a little bit shy. “I just don’t want her to think I’m trying too hard. I’m not trying to propose to her, you know. Just trying to get in the foot in the door towards the right direction.”

Minghao steps forward, sighing and shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s true. But also… Isn’t think your first, real, official date with her? Don’t you want it to be special?”

This time Wonwoo laughs at the pair's dramatics - already shrugging off the blazer as Mingyu’s hands fall from his shoulders.

“God, the two of you make it seem like I’ve never dated a day in my life.”

“Hyung, aren’t you also kind of acting like that yourself? You asked us to help you dress for it in the first place.”

A crimson flush paints Wonwoo’s cheeks at Mingyu’s words; lips pressing into a firm line as he avoids their shit eating grins.

Goddamn it.

“Whatever, just show me other outfits you guys have.”

Wonwoo tells you to meet him in front of the library at 10AM.

‘It’s somewhere familiar.’ He says.

You’d rolled your eyes but agreed - already standing in front of the familiar doors ten minutes earlier than your agreed meeting time.

Part of you was extremely giddy and excited and the other parts of you were nervous and anxious at what Wonwoo had planned for today.

‘Did you have any suggestions for our date?’

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek as he sends you the text - palms clammy as he sighs.

‘You should ask for her opinion, hyung. Let her know you value her!’ Mingyu had said.

Wonwoo knows that.

But he blames being away from home a little too long for his airheadedness about it all. Tells himself it’s because he was gone for so long that he doesn’t really know how to act anymore.

Deep down inside, Wonwoo knows it’s really just because you make his heart do backflips when you smile at him and he just never knows how to respond except by shooting you an awkward tight lipped smile of his own.

He’ll call you beautiful all day long and praise you until you beg him to stop but something about the candid moments in between the pleasure that are the moments that make him feel like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again.

But Wonwoo wouldn’t quite admit that to you right now.

‘What would your ideal date be, Wonwoo?’

He runs late by ten minutes.

Soft curses spill from his lips the entire time he jogs over - the flower bouquet in his clammy hand getting crushed slightly at the death grip he has on it.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m late!”

Wonwoo rambles on about how Minghao wouldn’t stop chasing him with a bottle of hairspray but your shaking pupils can only focus on the poor bouquet of flowers being throttled in the midst of Wonwoo’s animated retelling.

“A--are those for m-me?” You whisper; cutting him off as his eyes flit down to his hand.

“O-oh, um, yes, f-for you…” He passes you the bouquet - a shy smile on his face when you take it from his hands.

He’d picked them out himself after deciding on his own that he wanted to do something special for you.

Wanted it to mean something important.

“A dried flower bouquet?”

Wonwoo smiles sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head.

Was it too cheesy?

“They’re already dried so they’ll technically last forever now.”

You’re glad, for once, that you can manage to hold in the scream that almost escapes you when you look up to Wonwoo’s bespectacled face.

“O-oh… Thank you, Wonwoo.”

You want to learn about Wonwoo.

What he likes and dislikes and what he likes to do in his free time. You have a vague idea of it all, but you want to hear it from him directly.

You want him to turn to you and openly talk to you like you’ve been lovers for much longer.

He holds your hand as he guides you through the museum, but he’s oddly quiet and aloof when you try to pull him into conversations.

“Wonwoo, I--”

“Hey look, it’s a Hannah Höch piece. She’s one of the artists that pioneered that collaging thing Mingyu likes to do.” You lose him again as he reads off a biography off the wall and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his back.

You’d ask him over lunch.

The two of you spend a good few hours at the museum.

Although, admittedly, you spend more of that time following Wonwoo around as he silently admires the pieces instead of talking to you.

But by the time lunch is rolling around, he walks you over to a small hole in the wall cafe; flowers adorning the entrance and large windows letting in the sunlight as the two of you sit in a small nook away from most of the other customers.

“So, I--”

“Wonwoo, can I ask you a question?”

He tilts his head in mild confusion at your perplexed tone. “Sure?”

It takes a few seconds of you opening and closing your mouth, unsure of where to start before you sigh.

“So… is this a date?”

Wonwoo scratches the back of his head, ears and cheeks hot as you stare back at him. “I just–I want to understand where we are, Wonwoo. Or what we are, I guess.”

There’s a sigh on his lips and out of nervousness, all he can do is readjust his glasses for the third time.

“I told you I was bad at this.”

He was nervous the entire time the two of you were at the museum and he didn’t know how to let you know so he just didn’t.

He was hoping that he would’ve had the confidence like he usually did.

“I’m sorry, I know, I--I should’ve tried talking but god, you make me so fucking nervous?” He laughs at his own shyness as he runs a free hand through his hair, fully messing up the styling that Minghao had painstakingly done.

“I make you nervous?”

Oh god.

“I--yeah. You really do.” He smiles genuinely at you before his shy eyes focus on the cup of coffee in front of himself. “I know it’s hard to believe, all things considered, but you really do and sometimes I don’t know how to handle myself so I just… Don’t. And I know it’s not fair and I’m super fucking aware I do it too, I just--I can be bad at words sometimes, I guess.”

You try to keep your cool as you nod; lips easing into a soft smile as you stare at Wonwoo dreamily.

You make him nervous.

Letting it go for now, you stir your drink; thinking of ways to get Wonwoo to be more talkative but not in a nervous, panicked way.

“Hey, why don’t you tell me about your semester abroad?”

That manages to do the trick as Wonwoo spends the rest of the lunch portion of your date telling you various anecdotes of his trip.

And you learn that other than the long lectures and midday naps, his eyes light up at the stories he tells you about when they were actually at the archeological dig sites.

“It was so interesting to see remnants of what used to roam the earth before we did and to see little artifacts of old cities. I could’ve spent all day out there just excavating.”

“D’you think you’ll go again if you get the chance?”

Wonwoo squeezes your hand as the two of you walk out of the little cafe - already heading towards the last destination that he’d picked out.

“It’d be nice to.” He grins cheekily at you. “But maybe next time we could go together?”

You end up having to take a taxi to get to the final location.

‘It’d be too far to walk for you, pretty baby~’ Wonwoo had cooed.

The car stops after about 35 minutes and while he pays the fare, you step out to read the sign in front of the large domed building.

‘Planetarium.’

“You okay, baby?”

“Hmm? Y-yeah! I’m just… Wow, I don’t think I’ve been here in… ever.” You laugh awkwardly as Wonwoo places a gentle hand on the small of your back.

“I thought it’d be nice and quiet. We could just... Enjoy each others’ company. And talk. Finally.”

The two of you are quiet when you walk in but Wonwoo tells the receptionist that he’s booked a private room which makes your cheeks warm up.

He’d definitely gone the extra mile.

The two of you are led to a smaller room - just enough to fit ten or so people except it’s only you and Wonwoo once the receptionist shuts the door and leaves you be.

“Shall we?” You nod as you take a seat in one of the recliners; setting your things down into the seat next to you as Wonwoo takes the seat on your other side. The two of you get comfortable as you stare up into the projected night sky - only the buzzing of the projectors in the small room filling up the silence as you start to relax.

Wonwoo reaches for your hand in the darkness and you feel yourself jolt in surprise when he tugs you a little closer to himself.

“Have you ever heard the story of the sun and moon?”

“Hmm? Which one? Aren’t there a lot?”

He closes his eyes, sighing softly as he relaxes in the darkness.

“It’s that old story about how the Sun loved the Moon so much that he died for her every night so that she could breathe. He thought she was so beautiful when she’d glow but the Moon knew their fates were decided in different paths. So the Sun would see her in passing, short glimpses, right before he disappeared beyond the horizon. It’s a romantic story about sacrifice and star crossed lovers.”

“Is that what we are?”

Wonwoo lets out a loud laugh; eyes forming crescents as his glasses slide down his nose bridge.

“No, I think our story is much more fortunate than that.”

Black is Wonwoo’s favorite color.

“A-ah, hold on…!”

He likes to take naps when he’s not working or in his classes and sometimes spends his time playing PC games with his frat brothers until 3 in the morning.

“Wo--Wonwoo!”

He doesn’t have a ton of hobbies but he’s been thinking about videography lately since Mingyu’s brought it up.

“Baby, h-hold on, I’m gonna drop you if you don’t stop flailing!”

And he’s already thinking about taking a film class next semester and maybe quitting his job at the library to focus.

He tells you his favorite hyung is Seungcheol, ‘because he buys food all the time’ and his favorite dongsaeng is Seokmin, ‘because he cries easily so you know his heart is always in the right place.’

“Okay, finally!”

Wonwoo all but kicks the door to his room open, carrying you inside before he kicks it shut.

He lays you down gently on the bed as you giggle; a gentle smile on his face when he lays down next to you.

“I don’t know why you wanted to carry me up the entire flight of stairs but thank you.”

“Think of it as my sun sacrificing for your moon.”

You roll your eyes at his sudden cheesiness and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself rolling onto your side and immediately reaching for Wonwoo’s face as you tug him into a heated kiss.

“Mmph!”

He’s taken by surprise at first but quickly melts into it himself; eyes closing and hands reaching for your body when you start to roll on top of him.

His lips are soft and his kisses slow - the taste of coffee lingering on his lips and tongue when your lips part for him.

You’re reminded of his soft and gentle touches from a few days prior when you moan against his mouth and he’s quick to thread a hand through your hair before he flips your positions so that you’re underneath him instead.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…”

He kisses you on the lips one more time before he pulls away and takes his glasses off.

“I have one more thing for you to conclude our date.”

“Oh? A gift?”

“You can say that…”

He gets up from the bed and walks over to his closet - fetching a small box that he brings back to the bed as you sit up on your elbows.

“Wait, you’re not actually proposing, are you? On the first date?” Snorting, he takes the lid off and empties the contents of the box onto the bed.

“Depends. There’s definitely a cock ring in this pile somewhere.”

‘You can use anything in this box on me tonight. I wanna give you the freedom.’

“You look… wow.”

You try your best to not go over the top with the toys but you couldn’t help yourself when you reached for the blindfold and the set of handcuffs; shaky fingers helping Wonwoo get into position against the headboard before you had locked the handcuffs into place and wrapped the blindfold around his head.

“Everything you dreamed about, baby? Having me at your mercy?” He smirks and even through the blindfold, you already know his eyes are smoldering and staring holes into you as you sit on his thighs.

“Maybe we should switch off every now and again ‘cause you look really good like this, Wonwoo…”

“Hah, well, let’s see how well you do, hmm, princess? Maybe if you do a good job, I might let you.”

Gulping, your eyes flit down his half naked body and yours before you reach for one more thing from the box; turning it on and letting it buzz to life as Wonwoo tenses up slightly.

He holds his breath and anticipates it but he’s still not as prepared as he thinks when you press the vibrator against his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Oh--s-shit!”

The sensations feel even stronger with his eyes covered by the blindfold and his arms bound above his head and no matter how much he wants to tug against his restraints, he knows he can’t do anything.

Your mouth is agape at the way Wonwoo squirms underneath you and for a moment, you wonder if this is what he sees when you’re the one squirming underneath him.

“You’re not usually this sensitive… daddy~”

The teasing lilt in your voice has Wonwoo clenching his jaw before he huffs. “Daddy’s not used to being the one tied up, sweetheart.”

He opens his mouth to comment again, only a soft moan floating past his lips as he thrusts up against the vibrator. You don’t do anything other than hold it against his clothed cock but it’s enough for him to want to give in and switch places with you already - even though it’s only been minutes since you started.

Wonwoo tells himself control is something he needs to learn how to manage.

You can’t help but touch yourself while you hold the toy against him; biting your lip to hold in your noises when you gently run your fingers over your clothed mound.

“Sweetheart…”

“Y-yes, daddy?”

Grinning, Wonwoo can already tell by the shakiness of your voice that you’re affected too and he can’t help but want his hands roaming all over your skin.

“You should have all your fun now while you can~”

Gulping, you heed the warning in his voice as you set the vibrator to its highest setting, causing Wonwoo to let out a broken cry as the vibrations make his entire body tremble and try to shy away from the toy.

“G--god, fuh--fuck, ngh…”

His moans have your pussy clenching around emptiness and your fingertips only press harder into the wet patch of your panties at the way he tugs against his restraints.

“D-daddy… I--Can I sit on your cock now? I can’t w-wait any longer, you look so good…”

“O-oh? Watching daddy being a little bit submissive got your panties all wet, huh, princess? Are you wet enough to take daddy’s cock already?”

“Mmhmm…”

You turn off the toy and pull it away from him, watching his body go slack before you shimmy off of his lap to take off your panties.

A grin etches itself onto your face as you hold the wet material in your hands. “Daddy? Do you wanna know how wet I am?”

You can see Wonwoo’s brows furrow from above the blindfold but he nods once, lips parted slightly as he catches his breath. Goosebumps are all over his skin and he can feel you starting to grind down onto his clothed cock as your wetness soaks into the material of his boxer briefs.

“Oh, sweetheart, I--mmph!”

Giggling, you stuff the fabric between his parted lips - muffling anything he was going to say after as you grind down onto him harder. “Mmh, daddy you’re so hard… ‘m gonna make myself cum on your cock now, okay~?”

Only what you can assume are muffled curse words fall from his lips when you scoot back down to his thighs, tugging his boxer briefs down before wrapping a hand around his cock.

You lean over and let saliva drip from your mouth to the head of his cock - smearing the spit and his precum up and down his shaft as you prolong his teasing before giving himself, and yourself, what you both really want.

“Daddy, I wish you could see yourself right now~ I can tell how much you wanna feel my cute ‘lil pussy wrapped around your cock… Squeezing you and making you feel good too~”

Wonwoo can only groan around the fabric, hips thrusting up into your palm.

“And I’m so wet now too… But daddy always gets me sooo wet…” You shimmy back up his body, positioning his cock at your entrance before you start to sink down slowly. “A-ah, sliding into my hot ‘lil cunt like you w-were made for me, daddy…”

The amount of expletives Wonwoo’s screamed into the soaked material is uncountable at this point, but he says a mental prayer thanking the powers up above when he’s finally fully seated in your warmth - cock already curving deliciously into your g-spot as you mewl.

“Mmh, I could cum like this… Your cock is s-so big it’s already filling me up s-so good and--and touching all the p-places inside me that make me w-wanna cum…”

You grind atop his lap, swiveling your hips before removing your bra and tossing it off to the side. “Ngh… daddy…” Your hands roam your skin, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples as you whimper and clench down onto Wonwoo’s cock harder.

“Nod once if you wanna see me, daddy~ Or nod twice if you wanna talk to me~”

Wonwoo grits his teeth - you could really be evil when you wanted to.

But he nods once, sharply, to let you know he’s not happy he can’t have both. You laugh softly in return, leaning up to remove the silk ribbon from his eyes.

He blinks rapidly to adjust to the dimmed room, eyes on your naked body in a flash as you go back to teasing yourself.

“Do you like what you see, daddy?”

Wonwoo gulps, this time nodding shakily as he watches you pinch your nipples and cup your breasts. “Bet you wanna touch me too, huh, daddy?” He narrows his eyes - silently telling you to watch yourself.

“Hmm… s’not as fun when daddy doesn’t talk to me too~”

You smile at him teasingly before you reach over to pull the wet material from between Wonwoo’s lips and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chuckling - quietly yet enough to make you shiver.

“Hah, gotta hand it to you, princess...”

He doesn’t say anything more which makes you nervous so instead, you start bouncing on his lap, fingertips on your clit as you chase your pleasure.

This won’t last much longer, you think, I gotta take what I can get.

Soft mewls spill from your lips as you maintain eye contact with him and the way he just stares at you is enough to make you cry out.

“D-daddy, d--don’t, ah, look at m-me like that…”

“Like what, princess?”

You pinch your clit, eyes clamping shut when he shifts slightly underneath you.

A choked sob bubbles up your throat when you throw your head back and the pleasure washes over you - your orgasm hitting you hard as you swivel your hips faster.

“Oho, my pretty ‘lil princess is already cumming~ Your hot ‘lil cunt is sucking my cock in deeper while you cum… Don’t you want daddy to fuck you good and hard? Feel my cock fucking you so deep you feel it in your stomach?”

“O-oh, god, daddy…!” Your thighs shake as you rub quicker circles on your clit - milking your orgasm for what it’s worth before you would give back the control to Wonwoo.

“Or maybe daddy should fuck you slow… Let you feel every inch of me when I’m sliding in and out of your pretty ‘lil cunt… Make you beg for me and crave me so fuckin’ bad, just like you did to me?”

His laugh is cruel and makes you whimper; orgasm ebbing away as your fingers slow down and your hips come to a stop.

Gulping, you know the second the locks click on the handcuffs that Wonwoo would most likely make you pay for all your teasing.

But you fish for the keys lost in the bedsheets - shaky, sticky fingers reaching above the silent male underneath you as you start to undo the locks keeping him bound to the bed.

And it doesn’t take long.

“Ah…!”

Wonwoo does the rest of the work himself, tugging himself free and maneuvering you swiftly until you’re on your back; the air knocked out of your lungs at how quickly he moved.

“Daddy, I--”

The words die on your tongue when Wonwoo pushes your legs up to your chest, not even bothering to rid himself of his boxer briefs when he sinks his cock back into you.

In this position, Wonwoo holds all the control; cock slamming into your sensitive cunt as garbled noises fall from your lips.

“D--daddy, ‘m se--sensitive… ngh…”

Your cunt is like a vice grip around his cock as he snaps his hips hard and fast - this time chasing his own pleasure after all your teasing.

In all honesty, he would’ve cum if you kept the vibrator on his body any longer and he mentallly reminds himself to not let you know how easily it affected him.

“I know you’re sensitive, princess~ Which is why you’re gonna cum for me again.”

Wonwoo reaches between your bodies, rubbing quick circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb as you scream out his name.

“Oh--oh, god! Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo!”

“That’s right. Fuckin’ scream my name, princess. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y--You! Daddy! Fuck, ah, I--I can’t, I can’t, I--mmh!”

Wonwoo already starts to feel your body tense up with each thrust of his hips that has the head of his cock tapping your g-spot.

“You can and you will, princess.” He mutters, eyes focused on your face that contorts in absolute bliss. “Daddy wants to feel you cumming on his cock while he fucks you nice and deep. You take me so well, princess~ Fuckin’ taking all of me in your cute ‘lil cunt.”

Tears blur your vision as the pleasure starts to wash over you a second time - nothing leaving your lips except for an alternation of ‘Wonwoo’ and ‘daddy’ as your legs shake and toes curl.

“Fuck, princess…!”

Wonwoo’s cock is forced out of you as you cum hard; squirting all over his lower half as you cry out and convulse against the sheets.

The ringing in your ears is enough to block out anything he seems to say but he’s quick to wrap a hand around his cock and tap your swollen clit as he works you through your second high.

“Aww, my good ‘lil princess is so cute when she’s squirting all over daddy~ Making a big mess, too~” Your body jolts with each tap of his cock head against your clit and it only prolongs your orgasm as you thrash against his sheets.

“Da---daddy… I, hic, ‘m sor--sorry…”

When Wonwoo feels your body start to relax after a few tense minutes, he takes in your glowing form underneath him; thighs slicked with wetness and bed sheets soaked and crumpled underneath your bodies.

In a moment of gentleness, he lets your quivering legs down, fingertips massaging your tired body as he leans over you.

His lips are ghosting across your cheek as you open your teary eyes, soft cries still on your lips when he wipes at your tear stained cheek with the back of his fingers.

“You okay, princess?”

“Mm…”

“You wanna stop now? We can if you want.” His voice is barely above a whisper and the softness of it makes your body feel warm and sated when he kisses you gently. He repeats this a few more times as you catch your breath; leaving feather-light kisses all over your face as you mewl.

“You didn’t cum yet though, daddy…”

“I know, s’okay.” He smiles against your lips, “I want what you want… ‘Cause I really like you. And I’d really like to go on more dates with you, princess. And I wanna be able to tell everyone that I really like you too. And show you off to them and make them jealous that you’re mine. If you’ll let me. And learn with me.”

You giggle tiredly into his kiss, hazy eyes meeting his own.

You were happy.

And Wonwoo was too.

“Wanna start by grabbing me a glass of water from downstairs then, daddy?”

“Anything for you, my moon.”

“Does that really work?”

“What do you mean?”

“The ‘holding a cup to the door’ thing. Can you hear them?” Mingyu purses his lips at Minghao’s question.

“Not… really. Kinda just muffles it more.”

Jeonghan passes by the two currently hunched over each other in front of Wonwoo’s door; an incredulous look on his face.

“Why are the two of you listening in on them fucking? Fucking weirdos.”

Mingyu and Minghao both turn to look at the older male, lips pursed into a firm line “We’re not listening to them fucking, hyung. We’re trying to hear their conversation.”

Jeonghan laughs as he shakes his head.

“There’s absolutely no valuable conversation going on if she’s screaming ‘daddy’ so loud that Seungcheol is texting me about it from his bedroom. You should leave before Wonwoo finds out and decides to make rugs out of the two of you.”

“Ugh… Yes, hyung.”

💕

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #uimy_meltwonu #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #fratboy!svt

484 notes · View notes

icequeen-07 · 2 years

Note

well hey there! hope your trip's going (went??) well ;P i saw you were lookin for laura/max requests, and i gotta tell you i've just been like, chin-in-hands thinking about those two ever since playing the quarry, so if you're feelin it, what about a peek into what you think goes down after they leave the camp once and for all?

Oh wow I haven't stopped thinking about this since you sent this in what have you done lmaoooo, it fell so far out of my hands, but happy birthday to me, here's my gift to y'all! I might cross post this bad boy onto AO3 later too 🤔 (my first time writing these two in fic form so let's see how it goes!! ^^)

edit: on ao3 now!!!

--Stay with me, I don't want you to leave--

--2.5k words, hurt/comfort, Laura/Max, title--

The clock on the wall was driving her crazy.

Four days. Ninety six hours. 5,760 minutes. 345,600 seconds. All of them a loud ringing in her skull each time the pendulum on that stupid clock swung. Click. Click. Click.

It had been Ninety six hours since she last saw Max on that dock. Since she last got to hold him, be near him. She was going stir crazy, agonizing over everything. People were dead because of her. Max almost died because of her. Her fingers itched. Everything itched.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to sleep for a million years. She wanted Max.

Fuck she wanted Max. She wanted him so bad it brought tears to her eyes as she curled her arms around herself and stared at that stupid clock.

345,601. 345,602. 345,603.

Click.

Her fingers tapped on her thigh as she stared into space, her stomach curdling from lack of food. Lack of…everything really. It’d been a long four days.

She wondered where Max was. How was he holding up? Was he just as antsy as she was? Were they treating him okay? Was he scared? She wondered how he felt, at this very moment. Bored? Nervous? Scared? Angry?

The questions were eating her up inside, her arms coiling around her middle as she bent over.

Click.

She wanted to go home.

Everything was different now. She was different. It was all unknown.

And she was terrified. It was like staring into a big black pit and being asked to jump alone. She didn’t want to go, but she knew she had no choice in the matter. This was the path she’d chosen.

All to save him.

Saliva pooled in her mouth, thick and suffocating. It tasted like blood, from where she’d gnawed on her cheek too hard she guessed.

She scratched at her thumbs, eyes darting from the clock to the door. Eternity stretched on in a few days, leaving her sick and numb.

Where was Max?

She pulled her legs into the chair with her to curl up further, nails digging into her palms as the seconds continued to tick by.

Click.

Click?

Her head snapped up at the sound of the motel door unlocking.

“Ms. Kearney?”

“Yes?” she gasped, stumbling to her feet at the sight of the police officer. Her heart thudded in her chest at the thought of more interrogations. More questions. Less Max.

The officer had a worn face with thick eye bags and wrinkles from smiling and frowning. Her eyes were downturned and heavy as she let out a sigh. Laura felt her hopes dissolve at her fingertips at the sound but then the officer’s lips quirked up into a tiny smile. “You’re free to go.”

She stood in stunned silence before the questions coating her tongue sprung to life. “Is Max still here? Is he free to go too? Can I see my boyfriend?” she sputtered out, her hands trembling in their clenched fists. “Please, please let me see him. I-I have to…I need to see him.” Her voice trembled, cracking at the edges as she continued to stagger forward.

The officer didn’t respond, only shifted slightly to the right to reveal the oh-so-familiar boy standing behind her. She stopped moving for a moment, her arms falling to her sides as they stared at one another for a moment.

When he gave her that awkward little wave of his, every single emotion she had bottled up for the past four days came crashing down on her all at once; tears springing to her eyes as she launched herself at him. He let out a tiny yelp as he caught her, stumbling back a step as he spun her around. “Laura, Laura, Laura,” he murmured, petting her hair as she sobbed into his chest. “It's okay honey, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

She pawed at the fabric of his shirt, her voice coming out in thick whines as she sobbed into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere ever again,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head fiercely. “We’ll get you home, okay? I’m gonna get you home.”

“I wanna…” she let out a tiny gasp, unburying her face to get a good look at him. A bit scratched up from what she heard was a fall from a tree, but otherwise fine. He swiped the tears from her cheeks as she lay a trembling hand to rest on his left cheek. He leaned into it as she let out another gasp. “I wanna sleep forever,” she finished, letting out a humourless laugh.

He kissed her forehead, down the slope of her nose to finally press the lightest kiss against the tip. “Mind if I join you?”

This time when she laughed, it was real. It was soon followed by another sob but it was real. “Fuck, yes Max, yes. I don’t want to go anywhere without you ever again. I can’t…” more tears spilled down her cheeks as everything fell over her in waves.

The lack of sleep. The lack of food. The stress. The blood. The nightmares.

He hummed to her, wrapping her up in another hug. They rocked back and forth as her nose found its way into the crook of his neck. “You didn’t leave,” he murmured, their hands finding their way to one another. He was warm. She was cold, she didn’t realize how cold she was until she found herself in his arms again.

“Of course I didn’t,” she responded, breathing him in. He smelled like cheap soap. She never wanted to leave. “I couldn’t…I would never leave you. Where you go, I go.”

He chuckled softly. “How’s home sound then?”

“Yes, please.”

He made eye contact with the officer over the top of her head, nodding once. “Thank you, for keeping her safe.” He didn’t sound like he wanted to say it, it came out a bit gruff and she was sure if he had it in him he’d growl.

She snuggled closer, letting him tighten his grip on her shoulders.

“You two better be gettin’ home safe now, you have a long drive ahead of ya,” the officer replied. “Phones downstairs if you need to call someone. Bus is coming in half an hour otherwise.”

He nodded again, still rocking her back and forth. The only sound after was the officer’s footsteps down the hall and his soft murmurs to her hair. “See? We can take the bus to the next town over and call my mom, she’d be happy to pick us up.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, gripping his shirt so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I’m so sorry.”

“Laura? Hun? What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked, holding her shoulders gently to push her out of the embrace to get a good look at her face. The pad of his thumb brushed the corner of her lip as his eyes searched her own for answers.

“I got us into this mess,” she whispered, the words the final nail in her metaphorical coffin. It was the truth, the honest to god truth. She got them into this mess. She was the reason Max got hurt. She was the reason he turned. She killed and maimed to fix her mistake. It was all her fault.

Admitting it didn’t make her feel any better.

He kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, hun. It happened, that’s all I can say. It happened, and we can’t change that.”

“I nearly got you killed, Max,” she said, pushing him away to wrap her arms around herself.

“I’m still here, aren’t I? Takes a lot to get rid of ol’ Max a million.”

The joke fell on deaf ears as more tears welled in her eyes. “Shit, Laura, I didn’t mean-”

��You are, you are alive, but what if you weren’t? What if you died, Max, what then?” Everything she thought about over the past four days came bubbling out, all at once. She was a pot boiling over, and there was no stopping the hiccuped words or shocked look on his face. “Where would that leave me?”

“I didn’t die, Laura,” he said softly, reaching out to her. “It was scary, I won’t lie. I was fucking terrified. But it was never about me.” She raised a brow, he conceded with a small sigh and a little smile. “Okay maybe part of it was about me, but not all of it!” He ran his hand down her clasped arms to find her own hand, trembling. “Didn’t you stop to think, just for a moment, how I was feeling about it?” His voice was whisper soft as he threaded his fingers through hers. “I clawed out your eye, hun.”

“But that wasn’t-”

“I know,” he snapped, making her cheek twitch. “I know, but it still doesn’t make it any better because in some way it was me. It was me behind those bars, it was me reaching out.”

“It was the stupid fucking curse.”

“But it was still me.”

“I don’t believe that,” she murmured, letting him untangle her arms. “My Max would never willingly hurt me.”

He sucked in a small breath through his teeth. He ran a hand through his hair before letting out a tiny sigh. “Just like my girl wouldn’t willingly put me in danger,” he replied, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Simple as that.”

Her shoulders started to sag. “Can…can we go home now?” she asked, lifting her head to peer at him through her lashes. She was tired. She was so tired.

Heavy bags pulled at his beautiful eyes, but his smile, as small as it was, was real. He was real. It was all real.

And they were free. They were going home free.

“The bus should be here soon, I told my mom to get us in the next town since it's going to be busy with the others.”

“Us?”

“Your mom is on a trip right? And your dad is too far out to get you today. My mom was itching for us to be released, so she jumped the gun and got my sisters all packed up. They really want to see you.”

She barked out a tiny gargled whine. “You didn’t…I don’t…”

He didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arm around her shoulders before planting a kiss in her hair. “Yes I do, and yes you do. We’ll go home and get you that nap, if you don’t mind me passed out beside you.”

She laughed. “I can’t think of a better place for you to be.”

His tiny hum turned into a tiny gasp as he looked at her.

“What?”

He pulled away to crouch in front of her, his smile growing larger. “Well well well, lookie here,” he said, his smile lopsided as he brushed her cheeks with his thumbs gently, catching the tears that went astray. “Mhm, that’s right.”

She leaned into his touch, kissing the pad of his thumb. “What’s right?”

“You’ve still got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” His brows shot up to his hairline and his smile grew into a grin. Her cheeks heated. “And woulda look at that!” He tapped the skin under her eyes, making her fight her smile. “One…” a dramatic pause before he tapped her other eye and rested his hand against her cheek. “...two. You’ve got two of them!”

She started to giggle, her nose wrinkling a bit at the gesture, his cheeks growing rosy at the sound.

“God I love making you laugh,” he said, wonder shining in his eyes. She stopped her giggles as heat climbed into her face. “It’s my favourite sound.”

“S-Stop, you don’t mean that,” she sputtered as he brushed her lips with his thumbs.

“I do, I do mean it. I mean it more than anything else.” He surged up to kiss her, the sweetness of his words painting his lips as he leaned so far into her he was starting to lower her into a dip.

She loved him.

Fuck she loved him.

She loved the way he loved making her laugh. She loved the way his eyes lit up whenever he was excited. How soft his hair was. She loved him.

And she would do it all again, if it meant getting to hold him.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered against her lips before she pulled him back into another desperately sweet kiss.

The bus smelled something awful, but she was relieved they were finally leaving. The demon clock that haunted her for four days straight a low thud in the back of her skull as Max held her hand.

The aisle was small, Max letting her squeeze through first to find seats in the very back by the window, just like he liked. His eyes glittered as she let him sit in the window seat, never letting go of her hand as she plopped down next to him.

They were both exhausted, watching the bus remain empty. The low hum of the engine covered their conversation as she yawned.

“I think…I’m gonna take a year off,” she murmured, snuggling into his side. “From…school.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You deserve it.”

“And…and I want to spend time with you.”

“What happens after?”

She yawned again. “I don’t know. I just know that wherever you are, that’s exactly where I wanna be.”

He chuckled. “You get so sappy when you’re tired.”

“Savour it while it lasts,” she giggled.

He tilted her face up to press a whisper soft kiss against her lower lip. “Can I see a smile before we go?” he murmured before kissing her again.

It was small, but she slowly felt her smile climb across her face as he continued to shower her in kisses. He kissed between her brows, pulling back to look at her. His eyes were a bit duller from the months but they were still her Max’s eyes. So large and so blue.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed again, curling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He nipped at her lower lip once before pulling away. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose before wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Warmth settled in her stomach as she curled up against his side, basking in the feeling of being closer to him. As the bus sputtered to life he kissed the top of her head and twined their fingers together.

“I love you,” she murmured, squeezing his hand as she let herself nod off.

She watched his eyes widen a bit through a tired gaze, his cheeks flushing pink before he looked down at her with a softness in those big blue eyes of his.

Another kiss to her forehead as he whispered to her skin, “I love you too.”

She was staring into that black pit again. It called to her in a soft song with slurred words. Swirled around her ankles.

But she wasn’t alone this time.

Max squeezed her hand as he followed her into the unknown.

#the quarry #writing #max brinly #laura kearney #lauramax #hurt comfort #fics #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #okay so this might not be very good BUT OH WELL #I just wanted to write them being sweet lol #a FANTASTIC start to my fall into madeness I'd say #requests #asks #im going feral over these two #losing my mind #might post on ao3 later who knows

10 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

way too hot ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1608

request?: yes!

“heyyy, I love your writing. do you think you could please do a mgk imagine based off of his and yungbluds new song acting like that? thanks <3″

“Heyyy. I love your writing and I was wondering if you could maybe do a Colson Baker x reader based off of the song he and yungblud did, acting like that? I would really appreciate it if you did. Love your account so much btw!!”

description: in which she comes back to her ex way too often, and he finally decides to confront her about it

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

based on this song

masterlist (one, two)

The sound of loud knocking woke Colson from his deep sleep. He checked the time on his phone to see that it was 4am. Normally, Colson’s insomnia would have him awake at this time anyways, but he had been attempting to fix his sleep schedule now that he had some time off, and he was succeeding for the most part.

The knock came again, causing Colson to groan and throw his warm blanket off himself to venture out into his cold house.

He wasn’t shocked to see his ex-girlfriend stood at his door, nearly stumbling into the house.

“Shit,” she breathed. “I-I didn’t mean...I told the cab driver the wrong house. I’m sorry, Colson, I - ”

Colson could smell the alcohol basically wafting off her, mixed with the sweet, familiar scent of her perfume. He sighed and stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he had numerous times before, he gave her a change of clothes and set up the couch for her to sleep on. He helped her to the couch and gave her water and an Aspirin to help with her inevitable hang over in the morning.

(Y/N) drifted off to sleep within seconds. Colson looked down at her, a million things running through his head to say to her. He decided it would be best to wait until the morning before saying anything, when he was less tired and she was less drunk.

After another moment of just gazing down at his once love, he finally made his way back up to his room.

~~~~~~

When he finally came down the next morning, (Y/N) was still sound asleep. Colson knew he should be annoyed, that he probably shouldn’t have even let her stay there that night. But he wasn’t annoyed, far from it. Part of him was almost happy to see her asleep in his house again.

Although, this wasn’t the first time she had stumbled her way to Colson’s place since they had broken up. Colson had lost count of how many times it had happened, and each time she would swear it was the last only to show up again about a week later.

Colson and (Y/N) had agreed to break up nearly six months ago when they found their relationship was starting to struggle due to Colson’s busy schedule. Colson had been trying to move on when she showed up on his doorstep first, so drunk she could barley speak and tears running down her face. Colson had brought her in and allowed her to stay the night, both of them sure it was going to be a one time thing.

He still loved her, he couldn’t deny that, but her constant drunk visits followed by her insistence that it was the last time felt like he was being stabbed in the heart repeatedly. He either wanted to make things work between them again, or to move on from the relationship.

Colson sighed and approached the couch. He gently touched (Y/N)’s leg, and when she didn’t stir he shook her a little. Her eyes slowly began to open, but she winced from the harsh sunlight beaming in from the living room window and groaned.

“Sorry,” Colson said. “Forgot they were open.”

“Colson?” (Y/N) mumbled, her hands covering her eyes as Colson moved to shut the blinds. “Shit, I did it again, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Colson confirmed. “Take the Aspirin I left you, it’ll help with the headache.”

(Y/N) moved slowly as she sat up and reached for the Aspirin. She moved too suddenly once and hissed in pain, which caused Colson to wince himself. He went to the kitchen as to not have to watch her agony much longer. He threw some leftovers into the microwave, enough for the two of them to share, and brought a plate of food to the kitchen for (Y/N).

“You don’t have to do that,” she told him, although she took the plate anyways. “I probably shouldn’t be here long, anyways.”

“You’re still nursing a hangover, no way I’m letting you go anywhere any time soon,” he decided.

Silence fell over the two of them as (Y/N) took a mouthful of her food. Colson snuck a quick glance at her when he was sure she wasn’t looking. Even just awake with a hangover, she looked like the most beautiful girl in the world.

He could feel his heart racing with delight at just having her there, and he realized he couldn’t let things go much further without addressing the elephant in the room.

“Why do you keep doing this, (Y/N)?”

She looked up at him, a fork full of food paused midair towards her lips. She placed it back down on her plate, averting her eyes from Colson. “I...I’m sorry. I’ll stop, it’s just - ”

“I don’t necessarily want you to stop,” Colson cut her off, although that wasn’t really the truth. “I just...I want to know why you keep getting drunk and coming here in the middle of the night. I wanna know why you do that and then you leave immediately and say you want to pretend like nothing ever happened, only to do it all again. I don’t mind helping you sometimes, but fuck (Y/N), you do make it hard to try and move on from our breakup.”

Tears were starting to form in (Y/N)’s eyes. She looked away from Colson in an effort to hide them, but he could see her lip quivering and could see the trail of water running down her cheek.

“Because...I have a hard time letting you go, too,” she responded, her voice soft.

“What?” Colson asked, although he had heard her.

“I have a hard time letting you go, Colson!” she repeated, much louder this time. “I understand that our relationship wasn’t great, but I wanted nothing more than to try and fight for it; for us. I wanted to be the perfect girlfriend who sat by and waited for her rockstar boyfriend to come home so she could shower him with the love and support he deserved, and I wanted to be cool with the constant partying even when you were home, or the guys always being over and never giving us alone time. I tried so hard to be that way. I...I had hoped you weren’t noticing the relationship going south, too. I hoped I could just fake things being okay until they were again.”

He ached to reach out and take hold of her hand. He hated to see her cry and wanted to hold her and comfort her, but he knew that was inappropriate to do in that moment. So, he just sat, watching the girl of his dreams cry over her love for him.

“Why didn’t you say that when we decided to break up?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I figured it was for the best. I felt that we weren’t how we used to be, you were unhappy. I thought we’d both be better off if we broke up.”

“I wasn’t unhappy.”

She looked up at him. “What? Yes you were, you said - ”

“I said I was unhappy that I couldn’t be with you how you deserved. I wasn’t unhappy with the relationship as a whole, I was unhappy with how I was holding up my end of the relationship.”

(Y/N) was shocked into silence. All these months she had believed that Colson was unhappy in their relationship. She had convinced herself that it was her own doing, that she hadn’t been good enough to keep up with his lifestyle. He had never told her he was unhappy with himself.

“You never told me that,” she pointed out.

“I guess neither one of us was really good with communication then.”

(Y/N) smiled a little at this. She had placed her food aside, no longer feeling able to eat. Colson reached for the plate and was about to make his way back to the kitchen when (Y/N) stopped him.

“Do you think there’s any way we could start again?”

Colson paused in the living room doorway before turning back to look at her. “You mean...from the beginning?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Maybe...I don’t know. At least start from back before your career blew up and we were both trying to navigate these new waters we were unfamiliar with.”

The corner of Colson’s lips tugged up in a slight smile, his heart fluttering with excitement. “I definitely think we could try. As long as we both promise to be open with one another. No more of this thinking we know what’s best for the other. We lay everything out on the table and we talk through our problems.”

(Y/N)’s smile mirrored his own as she nodded. “Yeah, I like that plan.”

Colson nodded as well. He didn’t want to walk away now, he just wanted to go back and join (Y/N) on the couch. He wanted to smoother her in kisses and cuddle her until her hungover headache went away. He wanted to have his girl back in his arms again.

“I’m glad we decided this,” he finally said. “While I love how adorable you act when you’re drunk, you’re truly way too hot to be acting like that.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh yeah? Acting like what?”

“Like a crazy drunk ex.”

He began to laugh and ducked out of the room just in time to miss a pillow (Y/N) threw at him in retaliation for his words.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #estxx #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

297 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.17

Happy Times

03/05/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,336

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, big smut, smutty smut, talk of pregnancy, infertility, trouble with conception

A/N: This is the big one. The one I’ve been waiting to share. To write out and perfect and I hope it hits you all the way it did me to write it. I love this chapter for many reasons. The smut is probably one of my favorites to have written. I don’t know why. I hope y’all enjoy it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Something settles between you and Thor after your sobbing conversation.

Thor has always been sweet with you after your marriage but he seems intent. Like he’s playing catch up and watching him is exhausting.

You know it’s your fault. He probably feels like he has to give you reassurance and two days of watching him fluster, you finally reach out to grab his hand before he can get too far away from you.

"Thor wait," you sigh, pulling him back towards the bed.

You’re not dressed yet, wearing only his heather gray t-shirt. It’s stretched a little around the neck because you’d been pulling it a lot last night in your eagerness to have him on you.

"What is it, my cherub?" he worries, sitting back down beside you as you pull yourself up to sit too.

His hands fly towards you, an instinct, as he places his hands on your hips then slides one up along to your waist then your ribs where you flinch a little from the surprise of his touch.

You’re still not used to him touching you in some places. Not his fault. Not really yours either. You don’t mind. It’s just new.

"Nothing, Thor. Everything is fine. And that's the point."

With a sigh you get up, letting go of his hand as you make your way to the cord by the door that calls in one of your staff.

"I was going to go get it for you," Thor explains. “I know you’re hungry.”

"I know, but Thor...what's going on with you?”

Sitting beside him again, you take his hand and lace your fingers through his as he reaches to touch you again.

You pull his hands onto your lap and sit with one leg folded up on the bed while the other hangs off the edge.

The skin of your thigh draws his attention and he takes back his right hand so that he can reach out and stroke it, pushing the shirt up just a smidge.

“What do you mean?” he asks, not understanding your own confusion.

“I mean, watching you fuss over me has been...I’m exhausted just watching you.”

Thor’s hand never stops stroking but there’s a small understanding that smooths his creased forehead.

“Oh,” Thor smiles a little sadly, and it almost rips your heart out.

“Thor,” you fret, suddenly terrified, voice rising in pitch.

You scoot closer to him to close the gap and he lets his hand slide up underneath your shirt to wrap around your side to hold you. You rest your knee on his own, also folded up on the bed so that he could sit facing you.

Meeting your eyes at the sound of grief in your voice, his beautiful blue eye goes wide, “No, cherub. Do not worry for me. I’m more than alright. I know that I have been a bit enthusiastic in my attention to your needs but it was only because I wanted to make it clear.”

“Make what clear?”

He shrugs one shoulder, pouting his lips as he shakes his head and turns his gaze down to your hand still holding tightly to his.

“That you are my one priority,” he looks up, smiling wide but it’s somewhat forced. “Of course you are. My beautiful wife.”

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach and you bite your lip as your mind races to fix this.

“Is this because of what happened the other morning? Because of me?”

You know it is, and even as he shakes his head, you know he’s lying.

“Thor…” you warn him, “Honesty, remember?”

His head freezes mid shake and with a small sigh, he nods.

“I never want to see you cry like that again,” he confesses.

Without missing a beat, you throw yourself forward to wrap your arms around his neck and practically sit in his lap as he responds instantly and embraces you.

He holds you tight, tighter than he normally does which makes your fear double. He buries his face against your neck and breathes in deep as you reach up to stroke his short blonde locks.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper for him. “I was being silly the other morning.”

You weren’t though. Your insecurities had been founded in a real problem. It no longer applied though, the moment he accepted you as his wife, so you shouldn’t hold it against him.

“I believe you, Thor. I know that you love me. And I appreciate everything you’ve done these past two days, but you don’t have to try so hard. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to.”

“Your worries were not unfounded,” Thor disagrees, unwilling to let you trivialize your feelings. “I once asked you to do something that affected your image of me. I gave you those doubts. Even if they hold no merit now, they were my words.”

“Fine, I had reason to be upset, but Thor this is too much If you keep going at this pace, you’re going to wear yourself out emotionally. I don’t want you to resent your love for me. I appreciate you wanting to make sure I know how you feel--and I do know--but you trying so hard feels almost as bad as why I was upset in the first place.”

The confusion on his godly face is heartbreaking.

“How-?”

“I don’t want to be a burden on you. I want our marriage to be a partnership. We’ll figure things out together, work through things as a team. You were on a team with the Avengers, right? Didn’t you all do much better together than you could do separately?

“And when any of you did break away, how did things go then? Not good, I’m guessing.”

Thor nods, “Not good.”

“I don’t want us to break away from each other. I’m glad you understand how much the way we started had me worried, but I get it too now. I know you don’t want Jane. And I’ll be better about my insecurities.

“So, can you stop running around like crazy and just be with me?”

Reaching up you place both of your hands on the sides of his neck, wrapping your hands around the back to give him a gentle shake.

He takes his own hands and traces your back from shoulder to hips then back up before he pulls you in against his chest to simply hold you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and tuck your head beneath his chin.

“I guess I should probably cancel that chocolatier I hired just for you then?”

You shove your face against the skin of his collarbone and laugh a smothered laugh as he presses his lips against your hair.

“Oh, my god!” you shout, voice still muffled against his pecs.

Thor chuckles, then reaches down to take hold of your chin and tilt your head back until he can lean over you and press his lips to yours.

He kisses you again and again, slow languid pecks that smack quietly, wetly as his lips begin to part. A stirring between your legs makes you shiver and Thor quickly hooks his hands behind your knees to pull you onto his lap where you straddle him easily.

The position places you higher and as your heights are reversed, you grasp the sides of his face. You trace the shape of his top lip with your tongue and he sighs heavily. A huff of mild frustration before he lifts you, flipping you at the same time to press you down onto the mattress.

He kisses the corner of your lips, making a trail down along your jaw to your neck where he licks and suckles driving your sex absolutely wild. It contracts, searching desperately for filling.

“You-drive-me-absolutely-mad-” Thor gasps between wet kisses.

“Oh, Thor…” you whisper, a breathy moan that makes him growl.

He pulls you up for only a second as he takes the shirt off your body then pushes you back onto the bed as his mouth finds your breast to nibble.

He circles your nipples, raising pebbled peaks while his hands trace every curve of your body.

Somewhere in your mind, you’re aware that the bedroom door opens and a timid Estrid’s voice floats in.

“Good morning, Your Majesties. Are you ready for break-? Oh!”

And just as quickly as her voice floated in, it’s gone, the click of the door prompting Thor to stand and pull off his pajama pants.

He strokes himself, drawing your eyes to his large cock but instead of filling you up the way your cunt desperately wants, he pushes your legs apart and up towards you.

One long stroke of his tongue to drive your folds apart pulls a shuddering moan from your parted lips.

“Breakfast indeed,” he mutters, then latches onto your core to suckle on your nub then lap at you hungrily making you quiver.

But you want him inside you. You long to be full with him, pumped with his seed.

He notices your reluctance to his feast, your impatience. It makes him angry? No. It makes him want to change your mind.

He throws himself down flat on his stomach, your legs tossed over his shoulders as his hands make their way to tweak your nipples as his tongue pushes inside of you.

You gasp, arching your back when he pulls back to trace deliciously tortuous circles around your clit.

Like they have a mind of their own, your hands grasp his golden hair, holding him still as he presses more firmly against your nub. You thrust against him, unable to help yourself as you chase your release.

Thor brings his hands back down, hooking them against the fold of your legs and pelvis, shaking his head from side to side as he follows your enthusiastic lead.

The lurid sounds of his mouth devouring you push you over the edge and you buck against him as heat rushes from your core up into the rest of your body to bathe you in ecstasy.

As it spreads, you go numb to anything other than the buzz of your climax.

Thor traces kisses along your thighs, kissing up to your hips, stomach--where you flinch from the unexpected touch--between your breasts and finally your lips.

The taste of you on him is intoxicating. The satisfaction that makes him moan against your lips seduces you again, bringing your legs up against his hips as you spread yourself wide for him.

“I want you inside me,” you breathe, unable to find the volume to do more than gasp at him.

Thor kisses you hard, mouth open wide as he tongues your mouth, exploring the soft heated wetness of your tongue.

With one hand he reaches between your bodies and in one smooth push, he’s got his cock all the way in.

He groans loudly. You moan with him.

“Oh, fuck…”

You’re lost in his body again, the sturdy weight of him pressing you into your bed.

He thrusts into you slowly at first, feeling every twitch of your cunt as you take him.

But with your breathy moans, his excitement grows and his soft thrusts turn into hard pumps.

“Faster, Thor,” you beg.

He throws himself behind you, lifting your leg to wrap it around his waist as he pulls your back against his chest. One hand he uses to massage your breast while the other he uses to hold your leg up to keep you open wide.

You throw your head back, searching for him and he kisses you messily, all tongues and gasping moans.

His cock slides in and out of you smoothly, his pelvis slapping against your ass with a quick rhythm.

“Thor,” you warn, your body pushing towards your second climax.

He buries his face against your neck, lips latching on in a lazy kiss as his focus has shot down to his cock.

Holding your body as still as he possibly can without hurting you, he fucks you quickly, bringing his free hand down to press and flick your clit as he chases his own fix.

He grunts. It’s a growl of exertion.

Your breathing is labored. A pant as you cry out for release.

Thor comes first, biting down on your neck with surprising control while his hips stutter and he shoots his hot seed deep within you.

His hand is relentless as it works you and only a moment later, your toes curl. You lose your breath, a sharp cry of ecstasy piercing the sex haze as your body is overcome.

Thor overworks you, stretching your orgasm for as long as he can while your body twitches within his arms as he waits for you to be more pliable.

As your toes uncurl, Thor’s fingers slowly stop. He traces your side, grasping your breasts to squeeze with lusty admiration as both your bodies come down from their high.

“That’s what I call, a good morning,” Thor says breathlessly.

You chuckle, exhausted and as you shut your eyes, you begin to drift back to sleep.

Thor notices, pushing himself up to press a kiss to your shoulder. Then your neck. Then your cheek.

“Wake up, love,” he urges you. “We have appointments to keep this morning.”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to just stay here in bed and do nothing all day but this over and over.

Thor laughs.

“I know, cherub. Should we call in sick?” he asks, half-serious.

“Ugh, no,” you sigh. “I have to go down to the park. And I have a meeting with the ambassadors at one.”

“What do they want?” Thor asks, wary of the Earth ambassadors because of their previous stance on getting Thor married to someone from Earth without an ounce of care as to who, so long as it was quickly.

“They want a report on our baby making progress.”

Thor sighs.

“Will you tell them about this morning? Should we have just made a video?”

You understand his frustration. You’re pretty tired of having your lack of a baby thrown in your face. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep telling them that you and Thor are trying and that when you have news, you’ll let them know.

“You just want a video for yourself,” you tease him, hoping to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work. “I hate that they call you for this. As if their meddling will help anything. I know it stresses you.”

Slowly, you turn to face him, hands pressed against his cheeks.

“I’m okay, puppy,” you promise him. “I’ll make sure to tell them today that they can’t call me for this anymore.”

“Will they listen?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But maybe if I tell them that they’re stressing me out with all of these progress meetings and that it might be hindering any possibility of conception they’ll leave me alone.”

“Is that possible?” Thor worries, propping himself up on his elbow as his hand gently strokes your lower belly.

“It is possible for stress to make having a baby harder. That’s why I thought that maybe we should take a break from trying but…”

Thor’s lips curl up into a smirk, “There is no way I am letting you take this perfection away from me.”

His hand gives your torso a once over before coming back to rest on your lower belly.

With a laugh, you nod.

“I know. I feel the same way. I think we should just stop thinking of it as a way to have a baby and just...do what we just did. Enjoy ourselves.”

“What we just did was more than enjoy ourselves,” Thor disagrees. “That was worship.”

“Then we’ll keep worshiping each other. Over and over and over and over-”

“Mmmm,” Thor wiggles his eyebrows at you and you laugh as he leans down to kiss your lips.

Your stomach suddenly growls.

“Now that I’ve had my breakfast,” Thor says, turning and getting to his feet. “Let’s get some for you.”

As you sit up, he tosses his t-shirt back at you and you slip it over your head quickly.

Thor moves to the door and pulls it open, nonchalantly peeking outside.

“Ah, Estrid, you’re still here. Good. Her Majesty would like some breakfast, please.”

“Right away, Your Majesty,” you hear Estrid say and your cheeks burn with the realization that Estrid literally just stood outside the doors of your bedroom, listening to Thor fuck you senseless.

As Thor shuts the door, he catches your bashful expression and laughs.

“I’m fairly certain that wasn’t the first time she’s heard us, cherub. No need for embarrassment.”

“I was so loud,” you whimper.

“A point of pride for me, I assure you.”

You bite your lip and Thor shakes his head.

“Shall we make some more noises for Estrid to overhear when she comes back with our food?”

Like a switch, you’re smiling, crawling away from Thor as quickly as you can across his massive bed.

You get only inches before his large hand closes around your ankle and he’s yanking you back to him.

“Come, let me have seconds,” he teases and you laugh as he pounces.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time has a way of getting away from you.

Your days become routine in New Asgard. More than they were before Tony, Bruce, and Jane showed up.

The security setup for the palace takes a long time. Bruce stays the entire month, but Tony goes home to Pepper every week for the weekend.

Jane is a constant presence in your daily life. Despite this, she doesn’t talk to you. Not often.

You tried a couple times to build some kind of rapport with her, but she’s resistant and you give up after the first week of her stay.

If she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you, then you won’t force your friendship on her.

She’s not evil. It’s not like she’s mean to you or outright ignoring you. She returns your greeting in the morning and at night your goodbye, but otherwise she makes no attempt to talk to you.

Thor doesn’t see it. Then again, he’s hardly ever with both of you at the same time.

His meetings with Jane take place everyday after lunch. You’re busy with the city park’s construction so you’re left out of their meetups. This doesn’t worry you.

Thor always gives you a breakdown of what Jane reports to him and you trust him. There isn’t an inch in your heart that believes anything funny is going on. Thor gives you no reason to doubt him.

Loki makes regular visits to the observation stations that the Warriors Three and Sif are tasked with watching and he keeps you and Thor informed. As of now though, there’s nothing to inform you of.

“Nothing’s changed,” Loki assures you both as you lounge in the small sitting room just down the hall from the dining room you, Thor, Loki, and your guests always eat in.

“Do you still feel it? The thing we’re keeping an eye out for?” you ask him, putting your book down on the small coffee table in front of you.

“Oh, yes,” Loki nods. “Whatever it is, is still coming.”

“What’s taking it so long?” you wonder, frustrated with all the suspense.

“Lack of power?” Thor wonders aloud, standing at the wide window that looks out to the sea.

He’s got his thinking cap on.

“No,” Loki shakes his head, pulling down on the dark jade silk he’s wearing over a perfectly ironed white button up.

He’s the complete opposite of Thor in dress who’s taken to wearing a pair of dark jeans and various styles of casual tops from t-shirts to long sleeves that he pushes up to his elbows.

“No, I don’t think power is the problem. It feels more like strategic planning. Whatever they’re waiting for, hasn’t happened yet.”

Loki moves towards you, holds out his hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet.

Almost as if on cue, Bruce suddenly pokes his head in through the open doorway, “Hey.”

“Hi, Bruce,” you greet, suddenly realizing what time it is.

“Lunch?” he asks, eager for a meal.

He’s always starving after he’s been cooped up in the basement security room all morning.

“Lunch,” you agree. “Thor?”

“Hm?” Thor turns towards you, your arm already hooked on Loki’s elbow.

“Coming? It’s lunch time,” you inform him.

“Right, of course,” he smiles at you then moves to take you from Loki who gladly releases you to Thor who guides your arm around his own elbow.

Lunch is uneventful. The same as it always is.

The food is delicious and the meal is hearty.

Thor devours his lamb, Loki nibbles.

Thor sits at the head of the table and you sit beside him, where he likes you to be. Loki across from you. Jane and Bruce sit at the opposite end of the table and anyone else who happens to be around takes up the remaining seats.

Seeing as today is Saturday, Tony is not in his usual spot across from Bruce.

As you sit beside Thor, he reaches over to take your hand, shoveling his food into his mouth with one hand while you also try and fail to cut your lamb with one hand.

You sigh and then laugh, finally pulling Thor out of his thoughts.

“What is it?” he looks around to see if anyone has said a joke, but you’re the only one not focused on anyone but him.

“I need my hand,” you explain, and smile.

“Oh, sorry,” Thor says.

He lets you go but his hand dives down underneath the table to take gentle hold of your thigh.

This touch doesn’t surprise you. You’ve gotten used to Thor’s need to touch you. It’s not overt, usually. Not like he has to be draped around you. He just likes to feel you close.

A hand along your back, fingers tickling the small hairs on the back of your head, your hand held gently, or like now, a hand gently squeezing the flesh of your thigh.

You chuckle as you cut your meat, putting a forkful into your mouth. As you chew, Thor stares at you, smiling softly at your amusement.

“Have I been monopolizing you?” he wonders.

“A little,” you admit. “But I like it. I like when you touch me.”

“I like touching you,” he admits.

“Mmm,” you wiggle your eyebrows once and place your elbow on the table to lean towards him as if you’re about to whisper a secret. “What kind of touches?”

Thor clears his throat, swallows hard, and licks his lips as he tries to guess your mood.

“All kinds,” he whispers for you, leaning in closer.

“Even the ones that make me wiggle?”

“Especially the ones that make you wiggle,” Thor replies adamantly.

You chuckle and he smiles wide, leaning the rest of the way to indicate he wants a kiss.

Putting your fork down, you reach over to his ear and pull him towards you. You angle his head a little more so that you can kiss him easily and both of you laugh a little as your lips meet.

He pulls back once, then leans back in to give you a peck. Then another. And another. And another. For half a minute, he simply gives you as many smooches as he can while Loki purposely avoids looking at your display.

“I love you,” Thor whispers to you, making your heart leap in your chest and take off like a racehorse as butterflies fill your tummy.

A scraping chair pulls both your attention to the opposite end of the table.

Jane stands, moving around her seat and then pushing it in.

“Well, as delicious as that was, I’ve gotta get back to the tower. There’s supposed to be some sort of midday aurora or something? I don’t want to miss it.

“Thor? Are we still on for two o’clock?”

“Of course,” Thor nods, smiling at her. “See you at two."

She leaves the dining room, every pair of eyes on her departure but you find that only Loki’s brow is crinkled with curiosity.

After lunch, you and Thor retreat to his office, the last room on your floor.

Well, it’s your office too now. After Thor’s wish that you wouldn’t make any kind of office for yourself too far from where he might see you, he’d bought you a sizable desk and bookshelf and had them installed in his office on the wall opposite his own desk.

It’s still a fairly large room so there’s plenty of space for both of you to move around and do what you need to.

Today, you’ve chosen to take a break and grab a novel from your shelf that you’ve been meaning to read.

After sitting at your desk for a chapter, you get up and move towards Thor’s desk where he’s sitting pouring over paperwork. You reach out, nose still in your book, and turn his swivel chair a little so that you can sit on his lap.

Thor doesn’t even look up from his work as he spreads his legs a little wider to offer you one of his massive thighs, and an outstretched arm ready to wrap around your waist once you’re settled.

He gives you a gentle squeeze once you’re in his arms but otherwise neither of you make a fuss.

You’re allowed only about thirty minutes of peace before a knock on the office doors pull both your gazes up.

“Come in,” Thor says, hand relaxed on the small stack of paperwork he’s been reading through.

The door creaks open and large brown eyes peek through.

“Jane?” Thor worries, looking at the small clock on his desk which tells him that she’s half an hour early and she also never comes to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry to bother you both,” Jane says which already sounds odd seeing as she hardly ever includes you in anything. “But I have something I need to show you, Thor.”

“Of course,” he nods, and you’re already getting up off of his lap. “I’ll come see you later, cherub.”

He leans down and kisses you but guides you to sit in his seat, which you do.

You watch him go, shutting the door behind him as Jane leads him off, stealing a precious half hour from you.

Disappointed, you sigh and shut your book. There’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate now.

Luckily, you’re spared having to find something new to do by a second knock on the door.

“Come in,” you say with another sigh.

“Your Majesty?” Estrid looks towards your desk but when she doesn’t see you at your desk, her eyes search the room.

“What’s the matter, Estrid?”

“Oh,” she smiles when she spots you. “‘Tis the fifteenth, Your Majesty.”

Her reminder hits you like a bolt of lightning and you get up as quickly as you can.

“I keep forgetting!” you complain to yourself but with Estrid hot on your heels you hurry down the hall to your bedroom where inside you find Dr. Wilson and Doctor Alric waiting at the small breakfast table.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Wilson? Dr. Alric?” you stop a few feet from them as the curtsy and bow respectively.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” they greet.

“Another blood test today?” you ask, already rolling up the sleeve of the oversized sweater you’d chosen this morning.

“Actually,” Dr. Alric begins. “There will be no need for a blood test today, Your Majesty.”

“What? But I thought-?”

“You’re pregnant, Your Majesty,” Dr. Wilson says, no prompting or lead up.

She just says it, and you freeze.

With wide eyes you look from doctor to doctor completely confused by what it seems their saying.

Do you dare hope that you heard them correctly?!

“I’m what?”

“You’re with child, m’am,” Dr. Alric assures you. “Dr. Wilson and I were finally able to find a way to test your blood for an Asgardian and human mixed child. Since our genetic makeups are so different, it took a bit of creativity and-”

Dr. Wilson reaches out to place her hand on Dr. Alric’s forearm, “We won’t bore you with the medicine behind it, but we tested as far back as we could with the samples of your blood that we kept just in case we managed to find a way to get a conclusive result and you’re about three months. A little less. You will have conceived just after your marriage. Perhaps on your honeymoon?”

Slowly you start to understand what they’re saying and a smile begins to spread across your face.

Can it be true?

“I’m really pregnant?” you check again, because you’ve wanted it for so long.

“Yes,” Dr. Wilson smiles at you. “It’ll be just a tiny swell right now. You might not even notice the change yet.”

“I’m pregnant!” you gasp, laughing as you press your hands to your cheeks.

Your doctors laugh.

Instinctively, you want to run to Thor and tell him. You want to call David and celebrate with him. You want to shout it from the rooftop of the palace so that Earth’s ambassadors will hear and finally leave you alone!

“There are a few things we’d like to go over with you. A diet and some medications to ensure the health and safety of both you and the baby,” Dr. Wilson explains.

“Dr. Wilson will cover the human side of the heir, and I shall employ a brief idea as to what I think might assist in maintaining the child’s Asgardian side.”

This reality check is just what you need and you move to take a seat with them, eager to learn and even more so to get to Thor and tell him that you’ve both been worrying for months when he’d already gotten the job done a long time ago.

You end up taking notes on everything that Dr. Wilson and Dr. Alric tell you. It’s a lot of information, instruction, and advice that you will never remember if you don’t put it down somewhere.

Time passes quickly and slowly at the same time but once they’re done with you, you see them off and then race back to the office to see if Thor’s meeting with Jane has finished.

Although it’s been nearly an hour and a half since he left you, he’s not returned to the office so you call for Estrid but take a peek out towards the tower instead.

You don’t see them out there and are almost set to go look for him up there yourself when Estrid comes.

“Is everything alright, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, everything is wonderful Estrid. Do you know where Thor is?” you ask eagerly.

“I believe His Majesty is in his war room with Prince Loki, m’am.”

“Thank you, Estrid!” you zoom past her, unable to contain your excitement.

It feels like you’re literally flying down the halls as you make your way to your husband.

Your body is absolutely vibrating with glee. You’re weightless. Ecstatic. You’re so relieved that you’re not a failure. That you were able to give Thor and his people what they want more than anything else in the world. A future!

A beacon of hope. An assurance that the people of New Asgard will always have a place here on Earth. An heir.

As you reach the war room door, you see that it’s cracked open, Thor and Loki’s familiar voices spilling out from within.

You reach out for the handle.

“What did she say, Thor?!” Loki is demanding.

There’s something off about his tone.

Somewhere deep in your heart, fear strikes a cord. Panic. The weightless feeling your news has given you turns into numbness as your body recognizes danger before you do.

“She said she’s with child,” Thor spits, angry, frustrated, absolutely out of his mind with grief? “Jane said that she’s pregnant with my child.”

What?!

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #royal au #arranged marriage au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x you #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt17

369 notes · View notes

spacedikut · 4 years

Text

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #oh to be spencer reid's neighbour that he falls completely in love with during the lockdown

1K notes · View notes

jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

Text

Sex Tape

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader

Request: “ If you take requests, would you consider doing johnny reaction to like theirs sex tape getting leaked? Reader may also be a celebrity or not. Whatever you prefer “ - @fanficshitandother

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut

Word Count: 1800

A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I was having a harder time writing it than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy!

__________________________________

Shit.

You knew this was a bad idea when he suggested it but no. He just had to have this video “for when he was away filming.” It always ended like this, though, right? It always started out as fun and games until bam! Celebrity sex tape leaked!

The gossip talk show video that your best friend had sent you was still playing on your phone and you watched in silent horror as the red haired woman talked about your sex life to her male counterpart as if she had any actual right to have an opinion. In the top corner was a picture of you and Johnny at the red carpet for the premier of the Crimes of Grindelwald, his arm around your waist and both of you smiling for the paparazzi pictures. “Okay, guys. You are going to want to hear this,” She started, clasping her absurdly long acrylic-clad fingers together and holding onto her knees, “So there has been yet another sex tape leaked and I want you to guess who’s it is.” She looked over to her co-host. He had a push broom mustache that was bleached blonde to match his hair.

The man hummed before waving his hand, which also donned long yellow acrylics, “I swear, Laurel, if this is another Kardashian or Paris Hilton tape, I’m gonna scream. That’s such old news.”

“Actually, it’s someone that I certainly didn’t expect. Johnny Depp and his wife, Y/N L/N.” She dropped the news and the co-star’s mouth dropped.

“Are you serious? Like Jack Sparrow, Sweeney Todd, Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp?” He asked in total shock, “I didn’t expect that either! But you know what? I feel like he’d be really good in bed.”

He and Laurel both laughed, “You’re so bad!” She squealed, hitting him with the paper notes in her hand, “But, between you and me,” She leaned in, as if she was telling an actual secret that wasn’t being broadcast on the internet, “I did see it.”

“And?”

“It was pretty hot, I can’t lie. That Y/N is a very lucky girl indeed.” The pair giggled like a pair of school girls.

You were absolutely mortified. How did this happen? How many people had seen it? Who had seen it? Oh God… all you could imagine was your family stumbling across the video or, debatably worse, Johnny’s kids. This had to be one of the worst moments of your life.

You turned off the video and quickly dialed your husband. “Hello, love.” He greeted cheerily on the other end. The faint sound of cars passing in the background told you he was probably driving home from the meeting he had been at.

“Did you see it? Did you hear it?” You asked frantically.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The video! The video got leaked!” You ran your fingers through your hair messily, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

“What video?” He questioned, not sounding like he fully understood what had happened, but then you could almost feel the weight of realization falling on him, “Wait, our video?”

“Yes! Our video!” You were yelling at this point, not at him but at the situation and thankfully he understood that.

“Okay, okay. We’ll- Hang on my manager is calling. Probably to tell me about it. I’ll be home in five minutes. I love you.” He signed off your call quickly before hanging up without giving you the chance to respond.

While you waited for him to get there, you spiraled down the rabbit hole that was the tabloids and social media. Your phone buzzed off the charts as everyone from your sister to Helena Bonham Carter called you to ask if you were okay. Of course, you weren’t. But it was one phone call from a former college roommate, Sheila, had really gotten your blood boiling.

“It’s okay! If anything, this is just going to make you more famous! Look at all the other celebs who’ve had their sex tapes leaked. They’re like, super famous.” Sheila sounded more excited than she should have, which certainly made you question her motives behind calling you in the first place. Since marrying Johnny, you’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having to cut a few people off from your past who had randomly called you up after years of little to no contact, asking more favors in the movie industry, money, or even just for the clout of saying they knew you. There really was such a downside to this whole marrying famous person thing that nobody ever really talked about - not that you would take it back, though, of course. You loved Johnny more than anything.

Still, when the words left her mouth, you felt a flash of anger swell up, “Contrary to what a lot of people might believe, being famous actually kind of sucks,” You spat angrily, “And call me crazy, but I don’t exactly feel thrilled at knowing the whole world as access to a video of my naked ass!”

“At least it’s a good naked ass, though! Your boobs are looking pretty good too. Did you get them done?” She asked bluntly, still not a care to be heard in her voice. You swore you could almost detect a fake valley girl accent too.

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the words coming from her voice, “I can’t believe you.” Without giving her a chance to respond, you clicked the off button before flipping her off through the screen, though you knew she couldn’t see it. The audacity of some people.

The front door swung open, drawing your attention as Johnny hurried into the house, setting his bag down by the front door. “How bad is it?” You asked, knowing his manager must have told him the full extent.

“Do you want the truth?” Johnny saw as panic and humiliation swept across your face, knowing that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to break it to you that it was pretty bad. He stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, “I told Harrison to take ‘em down. Whenever he found one, he said he’d get it deleted.

You sighed defeatedly, “That doesn’t stop the fact that a bunch of people already saw it.” Your arms wrapped around Johnny’s torso and you allowed your head to fall against his chest, trying to calm yourself with his scent- exotic spicy cologne and old books.

His large hand came to stroke through your hair, “That is true,” He conceded with a heavy breath, “But, it also means that fewer and fewer people will continue to see it.” There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, only took a few minutes to hold onto each other while you thought about the future now, “Y’know, I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to make the video. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head in disagreement, “I agreed to do it too. It’s on both of us. In retrospect, we should have put it on an actual VHS tape or something that would be more difficult to get into the tabloid’s hands.”

You were tired of this - of this constant running from the vultures that prayed off your every misstep just to turn them against you and create headlining stories. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a scandal unless the media allowed it. You were just grateful that you happened to marry one of the most private actors in Hollywood, knowing that whatever pressure you felt, more public figures like Angelina Jolie had it much worse. Still, something inside you stirred, a decision that you’d stop living in fear.

Johnny pulled back and gave you that infamous cocked eyebrow look of wonder, one that you’d mostly seen him use as Jack Sparrow. Little did everyone know, it was a gesture he’d picked up on doing in real life as well. “Do we even have a VHS player anymore?”

You chuckled and buried your head back into his white shirt, “I don’t even know. I feel like there must be one laying around somewhere. And if not, I’ll go down to a pawn shop and pick one up just for you to use while filming.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” You leaned back, pulling on his shirt to bring him down closer to your level, “That if we’re going to be making you another one of these videos, it’s gonna be on something that stays only between us.”

Your husband nearly choked on air, “Another one? After what just happened?”

“Only if you want to and only if it stays on something physical like a CD or VHS that we can mutually agree to burn and destroy if anything happens.” You giggled and Johnny joined in with a low chuckle as well, “But… the video was leaked. We knew that was a risk when we made it. But, y’know what? I’m tired of living in fear of the paparazzi and public. They’ve already seen us fuck. There’s not much else we’ve got to lose.”

His dark eyes flashed with mischief before he took off in a light jog down the hall without a word. You followed him, “Where are you going?” You giggled, turning the corner to find him digging through your little Harry Potter closet under the stairs.

When he stood up, he shook his long hair out of his eyes messily and held up an old tape recorder that had to be at least twenty years old. Johnny swayed towards you, jokingly flirtatious as he spoke, “Well, Mrs. Depp, it would seem that you’re in luck because your husband likes to hoard old shit.”

The grey and black machine seemed to stare at you and some hesitation set in again but then you remembered what you’d said: I’m tired of living in fear… there’s not much else we’ve got to lose.

Johnny flicked open the side compartment and his eyes opened in surprise to find a tape still in there. He lifted it from the slide and looked it over, shocked to see that it appeared to be an unused blank tape, “Well, well, looks like we’re in luck.”

Biting your lip, you looked up at him with those eyes before grabbing his hand and running upstairs to your bedroom, dragging him along. “The world thinks they’ve seen us fuck. They only got a preview.”

“Only a preview? I thought we went pretty hard last time?” He countered with a low challenging laugh.

You turned around at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister as you turned to face him. His body collided with yours, his hand reaching around the small of your back to steady the two of you and you arched your body into his, being sure to brush your body against his groin, “Oh, Johnny… we’re both throwing our backs out tonight.”

#Johnny Depp #johnny depp fanfic #John Shelby #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp imagines

683 notes · View notes

random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Don’t Ignore Me! (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Requested from my Wattpad: "Can you please do a fluffy Bakugo x reader chapter where the reader was dared by her friends to try to do 'ignore your boyfriend for 24 hours' challenge? If you don't know, this challenge makes it so that the reader would have to pretend that Bakugo does not exist and they can't respond to any of Bakugo's questions or anything. Look up videos of the challenge if you want to get a better grasp of what the challenge is."

Genre: Fluff (and slight crack?)

Word count: 1,891

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: This ended up being longer than I anticipated... And was a bit difficult to start, but the more I wrote, the more I wanted to write, so I guess it worked out! I kind of imagined at least 3 different ways this could’ve turned nsfw, but THIS ISN’T THAT KIND OF ONE SHOT SHAME ON ME!

The next post will also be a slightly crack/fluff Baku request from my Wattpad then a Kiri angst, but I miiight not be able to post until Friday or Saturday. I’m taking a mini road trip down to Florida and it’ll take almost 14 hours, so hopefully I can get some writing done on the drive or once I get there.

Why did I let Mina convince me to do this?

I wanted to text Katsuki earlier and tell him not to come home just so I won't have to ignore him, but that wouldn't be ignoring him! She told me it would be fun just to see his reaction, and while I initially agreed, it didn't sound as appealing the more I thought about it. This will probably end in screaming or tears rather than laughs.

The door opens and keys rattle. "I'm home!" his voice booms out.

I keep my back turned to him as I stir the curry on the stove. You can do this, it's just a prank, it's only temporary. You got this, just pretend he's not there.

His heavy footsteps approach me, the hairs on my back tingling as I anticipate him coming up behind me as he usually does. His puffy hair brushes the side of my head as he peers over my shoulder. "Sweet, curry! Wait for me, we can eat together." Without hesitating, he kisses my cheek and leaves.

I have to resist the urge to answer him back. Since part of the challenge is to ignore him, I decide to eat without him. I spoon out some curry on rice and sit at the table by myself. I don't know how exactly he's going to react, but I know he won't be happy. We always have our meals together and we talk about our day. This is gonna be such a jarring break from routine; it'll be difficult for both of us.

He comes back into the room and I don't even look up at him, just scrolling through my phone as I eat. His footsteps stop short of the table. "What the- I thought I told you to wait for me!"

I focus on chewing my food so I don't say anything back to him and try to keep a straight face.

"And you didn't even leave a plate for me, what the heck," he grumbles to himself, swaggering into the kitchen to grab one from the cabinet. He finally sat down with his plate of rice, his pepper paste concoction, and curry. "So, how was your day-?"

I'd already finished my dinner, so I stand up, cutting him off. I feel his eyes on me as I casually put my plate in the sink and start cleaning up.

"What the hell?" I catch him mumbling to himself. "Babe? What's up?" He sounds genuinely confused at my behavior.

I don't answer him, continuing to just do my dishes and put away the leftovers into the fridge. I debated whether or not I should prepare Katuski's lunch for work tomorrow as I usually do. I mean, I'm just supposed to be ignoring him, not pretending he doesn't exist. I start taking some of dinner out into one of his containers wordlessly.

As I do that, Katsuki slowly stands up with his finished plate and places them into the sink. Even as he washes his own dishes, I feel him eye me with his crimson orbs, raking my entire figure over. When he's about to say something, I put his food container into the fridge and leave the kitchen, strolling into our shared bedroom and settling on our bed. There's a twinge of guilt as I lay around without him. Usually, we'd be attached at the hip from the time he gets home to when he leaves in the morning. He's so perplexed over the whole ordeal.

As I'm scrolling on my laptop, I notice him tentatively tiptoe into the room. He hesitates every step of the way as if he's testing the waters. Maybe he's thinking I'm angry at him? It's almost cute the way he slowly gauges my reaction to every move he makes like he's expected me to explode. I've never given him the silent treatment; when we argue, we just yell at each other one minute and the next minute we're fine. This is brand new territory for him.

The bed sinks in next to me as Katsuki rolls in. At first, he's just staring at me, scanning for any trace of anger. "Why are you so quiet today?" When I don't answer, he frowns. "Hello? What's going on?" He half jokingly pokes the side of my head.

I have to furrow my brows and bite my bottom lip to pretend like I'm too invested in what's on my screen so I won't laugh.

"Are you ignoring me?" I hear the annoyance growing in his voice. "Did I do something?" At my continued silence he throws himself onto his back and groans. "I don't get it! I don't know what I did!"

Aw, he's blaming himself. I feel kinda bad. I know he's beating himself up for a stupid prank I'm trying to pull on him, but I wanna see this all the way through, or at least as long as I can hold out.

His hand suddenly slams my laptop screen closed. It takes my entire being to keep a blank face and not glare at him. "Are you gonna talk to me now?" There's a hint of a smirk in his voice. I bite my tongue and open the screen again, but he pushes it back down. "Wonder what you're so engrossed in to talk to me."

I don't even huff as I pull out my phone and start scrolling through it instead. He groans out again and snatches my phone away from me. Hoe-

"I thought we solved our problems by talking about it? Why are you ignoring me?"

I turn over onto my side and show him my back.

"What the f-" The weight releases from the side of the bed and I shut my eyes just in case he wants to show up in front of me. He's getting angry now.

He paces around the room for a while, and the soft rustling tells me he's threading his hands messily through his hair. I feel proud that I know him so well, I can read him like the back of my hand. Katsuki's stomps finally approach me. "(Y/n)." His voice is close to me, so he's kneeling down, but his tone is more somber. "Talk to me, please? If it was something I did, I need to know, I really can't think of anything. I'm going crazy here, just say something for me?"

My heart sinks. This isn't something I was expecting from him. I thought he'd be louder about it.

"Seriously, I don't want to go to sleep while you're angry at me, that's not right. How do I know something didn't happen to you? Talk to me!"

His desperate pleads almost weaken me completely, and I want to break down and put a stop to this, but I'm gonna be strong. I keep my eyes closed even in the face of all this and swallow my emotions down.

He sighs and his footsteps retreat. Then they stop. Wait, what's he-

Suddenly the bed sinks at the foot and the weight travels up to my back. "Fine. Try to keep ignoring me, we'll see what happens."

Crap, what have I gotten myself into?

Katsuki first drops his heavily muscular arm over me, looping it around my shoulders so his thumb brushes the top of my collarbone buried into the mattress. My fingers itch trying to ignore my reflex of placing my hand on top of his. "Anyway, my day was okay. I really missed you though. Shitty Hair was there, annoying the hell out of me as usual. Phone battery was even there too. By the way, leftovers from last night still tasted really good a day later..."

I want to laugh. So hard. But if I even so much as shake from laughter, the jig is up. Every time I feel like laughing, I hold my breath. He's too funny, going on about his day as if I was actually talking to him. It's killing me!

Breaking off his monologue for a brief second, he throws a leg over my hip. "Where was I? Oh right-"

My eyes shoot open. WHAT THE HELL KATSUKI!?

I want to yell at him for being such a child, but I can't help thinking it's kind of adorable. He's hogging his favorite toy in the world, clinging to it like a lifeline. At this point, the laughter is just sitting in the back of my throat ready to explode at the drop of a hat.

Katsuki breaks off again and sucks his teeth.

Damn it, what's he planning now?

My body is rolled over onto my back and his full body weight suddenly crushes all the breath out of me. This idiot only smirks down at me. "You can't ignore a crushing weight on your chest, can you?"

"Fuck's sake! I can't do this anymore!" I finally break down and scream. "Get off me!"

He clings his arms around me again so neither of us can move. "Oh, look at that, you can talk!"

"Katsuki, your giant tits are suffocating me, get off!"

"Not until you tell me why you're ignoring me!"

I groan, utterly defeated anyway. "Fine! It was a prank! Mina dared me to do it!"

His eyebrows furrow. "Pinky put you up to this?!" He rolls off so I can breathe properly and sit up. "Why would you even follow through with that?"

"I don't know, I thought it would be fun?" I recognize the genuine anger and hurt in his eyes and reach for his hand. "It was stupid, I know, I'm sorry."

He turns around and gives me his back like a pouting child. "I really thought I did something, dumbass! Do you know how confused I was? That wasn't cool."

I crawl up behind him and slither my arms around his neck. "I know, it was hard for me to stay quiet knowing how upset you sounded."

Katsuki's voice gets softer. "I thought you were gonna break up with me."

My entire body gets cold at his somberness. Considering our track record, this is a strange occurrence for us. I can't imagine the thoughts going through his head, especially knowing how insecure he can feel. I bury my head in his neck. "I knew this would probably happen." I kiss the taut skin. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I love you, Katsuki."

He turns around in my arms and stares me down, his lip still slightly jutting out. "You have to make it up to me with cuddles for the rest of the night."

A relaxed smile spreads across my face, relieved that he's more or less recovered from it. "Deal."

We lay back onto the bed again, his head pressed into my chest and his arms constricting around me so I can't move away. Fingers brush against the side of his head, in his hair, and on the exposed skin at the hem of my shirt. "Don't do that to me again, dumbass."

"I won't, promise."

A light groan vibrates from his chest. "Tell me you love me again," he mumbles out the order.

I tilt my head down and press a kiss to his forehead before placing my lips near his ear. "I love you, dork."

"...Again."

"I love you, big baby."

"Again."

"I love you, Katsuki."

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #gender neutral reader #request #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

hrtiu · 3 years

Note

I know you're probably tired of writing but I LOVE your Rexsoka!!! Would it be possible to see a Rebels Rexsoka where Ahsoka gets injured bad and Rex has to sit by helplessly as she's taken care of by medical staff... and maybe with the Ghost crew seeing how it affects him... (aka they figure out how close the two are). Also, maybe a follow up of Ahsoka frustrated with her injury because she's not used to needing help. Was thinking leg injury. Love seeing vulnerable Ahsoka. Thanks!

I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this ask, but thank you so much for submitting it! Rexsoka will always be my favorite TCW ship, and I love writing for it! I hope you enjoy.

“We’re coming in hot!” Hera shouted from the cockpit.

“Ezra, get the door!” Kanan said, moving to grip Ahsoka under her shoulders. “Zeb, you get her legs.”

The Ghost’s breaking thrusters screamed in protest as Hera pulled her in for a rushed landing. The landing gear struck the landing pad of Chopper Base with a heavy thunk and Ezra dashed for the door and punched it open. He ran down the gangplank and Kanan and Zeb carried an unconscious Ahsoka out of the ship after him.

The first person Ezra saw was Rex, puttering around by the generator. “Rex! Get the med unit ready! Ahsoka’s been injured!”

Rex looked up from the generator in confusion, then his eyes fell on Ahsoka’s limp form in Kanan and Zeb’s care. The bacta pad tied around her waist was keeping her alive, but it couldn’t block the trail of red liquid oozing from her torso.

Rex’s face went white as his beard. “What happened?”

“No time,” huffed Ezra. “Get the med unit!”

Rex’s eyes glazed over, and Ezra wondered if now would be the moment Rex’s unstoppable soldier persona decided to fail. Then the former clone captain snapped to attention, dropped the tools he’d been carrying to the ground, and ran full-tilt towards the med bunker near the back of the base.

Ezra helped hold Ahsoka steady while Kanan and Zeb carried her to the med bunker. They set Ahsoka gingerly down on the med unit and Rex set to work cleaning, cauterizing, and redressing her wound. Kanan and Zeb left to update Hera, and Ezra made himself useful however he could, grabbing bacta, bandages, the cauterizer—whatever Rex needed.

“What happened?” Rex asked again as he carefully peeled off Ahsoka’s ruined bandages. “I thought this was supposed to be a low-security munitions factory.”

“It was, but something went wrong with the charges we set. The explosion radius was bigger than we thought, and a piece of shrapnel got Ahsoka.”

Rex’s lips pulled together and his brows furrowed, but he didn’t look away from his work. “Got it.”

The rest of the crew of the Ghost hovered about just outside the med bunker, but the space was cramped and more hands wouldn’t help. Rex was the most experienced with emergency medicine of their little team, and Ezra thanked his stars that he’d been the first to respond to his cry for help on Chopper Base.

Rex asked for the handheld cauterizing laser, and Ezra placed it in his hand.

“I need you to keep her still, alright kid?” Rex said. “This next part might be rough.”

Ezra put his hands on Ahsoka’s shoulders in preparation, but worried he wouldn’t be able to do much if she jolted. She was strong, both physically and in the Force. That’s when it occurred to him that he wasn’t too shabby with the Force either,

Ezra kept his hands on Ahsoka’s shoulders, but instead of pressing down he closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into hers, like he did when negotiating with a tooka or calming a loth wolf. He communicated peace and comfort, as well as a willingness to bear some of her pain.

Rex turned the cauterizer on and Ahsoka’s muscles seized up, her jaw clenching and her hands balling into tight fists. Peace, comfort, security, Ezra sent to her, and some of her pain flowed into him. Together, they bore the harsh cleansing burn of the laser, and Ahsoka managed to keep still.

Rex put the laser away and held his hand out to Ezra again. “Bacta.”

Ezra let go of Ahsoka’s shoulders. She was limp again, likely passed out from the pain. He found Rex the tub of topical bacta gel and handed it to him. Rex took it and spread some of the gloopy gel onto his fingers then, with infinite care, slowly spread it across the burned surface of Ahsoka’s wound. His touch glided over the angry wound like it was the most delicate, beautiful flower in the galaxy, like she might fade away if he was too rough.

The charred wound slowly began knitting together, the burnt brown fading to a crusted tan. The tension in Ahsoka’s unconscious features faded, and to Ezra it seemed she shifted from unconsciousness to sleep. Rex leaned back against the wall of the bunker and sighed, deep lines of stress aging his already-worn features.

“We’re past the dangerous part, now,” Rex said. “You should tell the others.”

Ezra nodded and left to find the rest of the Ghost crew. Hera beamed with pleasure and Kanan let out a sigh and a small smile. Sabine acted like she’d never been terribly worried in the first place, but Ezra knew how guilty she’d felt about her explosion not going according to plan. Zeb whooped in triumph and Chopper was, well… Chopper. Everyone’s relief was clear, but underlying it lurked an enduring anxiety. These past few months it had become too easy to think of their work as fun and exciting rather than dangerous and potentially deadly.

It took Ezra some time to track everyone down, so by the time he finished his task he decided to go back and check if Rex needed anything else. The door to the med bunker was open when he arrived, and through the opening he could see Rex sitting at Ahsoka’s side, his gaze warm and tender. Ezra cleared his throat and knocked at the side of the door.

Rex looked up. “Oh, Ezra. Care to help me clean up?”

“Sure.”

Ezra stepped inside and set about throwing away used bandages, sterilizing tools, and putting things back where they belong alongside Rex. They were just about finished when a soft moan sounded from the med unit.

Ahsoka stirred on the stretcher, and Rex looked up at her with worried, eager eyes. She looked back at him blearily and tried to sit up.

“...Rex?”

Rex gently pressed her back down. “You’ve been injured, little’un. Try not to move.”

“I remember the blast,” she croaked. “How bad is it?”

Rex frowned. “Bad enough.”

“You were bleeding like crazy on the Ghost,” Ezra said, “but luckily we got you back here in time.”

“Then… I’m going to be alright?” she asked, voice small and uncertain for the first time Ezra had ever heard.

“Yes, you should be. Probably,” Rex said, his frown growing. “The bleeding has stopped, and none of your internal organs were injured too badly. But this was much closer than it should have been.”

Her vulnerability disappeared, and she attempted a weak smile. “How close should it have been?”

“It’s not funny,” Rex said. His eyes dodged hers and his fingers curled tightly over the “501st” scratched into the vambrace he always wore.

Ahsoka’s expression softened, and she reached out to him, setting her hand on his. He looked up at her and the softness in his eyes brought a heat to Ezra’s neck.

Rex reached his other hand to Ahsoka’s cheek, his hands smearing the leftover bacta gel against her white markings. She didn’t seem to mind.

“I already lost you once, I’ll be damned if I lose you again,” he said.

“Rex, you know the risks.”

Rex’s eyes fell to his lap, and she squeezed his hand tight.

“But I promise I’ll always do everything I can to come back,” she said, her voice smoky and soothing like Ezra sometimes liked to imagine Sabine’s, in his weaker moments.

Rex looked back up at her, his eyes dark and intense. The small room was suddenly stifling, and Ezra’s face was on fire. He was going to die. Maybe he was already dead. He coughed loudly, and Rex and Ahsoka turned to him as if surprised by his existence.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll leave you two alone, then,” Ezra said, backing slowly out of the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were together. I mean, Kanan explained to me about the age thing, but-”

Ahsoka dropped Rex’s hand and Rex scooted away from her, his eyes going wide.

“W-we’re not together,” he stammered.

Ahsoka’s lekku flushed a deep blue. “Yeah, just old friends. Wartime buddies.”

“Oh, ok,” Ezra said, still backing away. “Well, um, I think Hera needs me for something.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to say something, but Ezra was out the door before she had a chance to vocalize it. The door whirred shut behind him, and he leaned back against the durasteel, his skin hot against the cool metal. Well, that was mortifying.

“Kids have such… vivid imaginations.” Ahsoka’s voice sounded from the other side of the door, and Ezra froze.

Rex chuckled, though it rang weak in Ezra’s ears. “Yeah. Crazy, to think that… You know. You and me? Crazy.”

Ezra leaned closer to the door, letting the sound from the other side seep through the crack between the panels. Being in the same room as a couple melting all over each other was a fate worse than death, but eavesdropping? Eavesdropping was one of his favorite pastimes.

“Rex, what if what Ezra said… It might be nice…”

Ezra pressed his ear harder against the cold metal.

Rex’s voice cracked. “Ahsoka-”

A firm hand yanked Ezra away from the door by his ear.

“Ow!” Green headtails bobbed in his peripheral vision. “Hera! What was that for?”

“I’m pretty sure that conversation was none of your business,” Hera said, marching him further away from the bunker.

“I just wanted to know what their deal is,” Ezra said. “Don’t you?”

Hera crossed her arms and heaved a sigh. “Sure, but that’s their business. They’ll figure it out when they’re ready. Relationships… They’re complicated. Especially when Jedi are involved.”

Her focus shifted to some distant point beyond Ezra, and Ezra bit his lip, thinking of Kanan.

“Alright, I get it,” he said. “But I hope they figure things out. They deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Hera said, her attention returning to him. “Me too.”

#rexsoka #captain rex #ahsoka tano #tcw #fanfic #ask #really old ask #sorry!#rexsoka renaissance

86 notes · View notes