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the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year

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A Man's Worth

Tup x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1: Death in the Shadows

gif by @kamino-coruscant

Summary: Your date-night with Tup is interrupted when your stalker finds you and won’t leave without you. Tup heroically comes to your defense, but is overpowered by the assailant and you are taken away. After your rescue, Tup struggles with his insecurities and self-worth as he tries to heal physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader

Characters: Tup, Echo, Fives, Fox, Rex, Kix, Jesse, Dogma, Hardcase

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, domestic fluff, minor suggestive themes, stalking, kidnapping, violence, blood, major injuries, whump, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, self-worth, masculinity, depression, PTSD

Word Count: 6.7k

Author's Note: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it decided it wanted to be more. Don’t ask me where the idea came from. It was the first thing that popped into my head when I read the bingo square. Writing this was painful, but chapters two and three are worse, so... As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta Read: By the lovely @commander-sunshine because sometimes I think my work is trash.

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Obsession

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

“I am so full,” you groan while exiting the restaurant. The fresh evening air hits your face and you take a deep breath to refresh yourself.

“Me too,” Tup agrees as he rubs his stomach. “I’m kind of glad the other place messed up our reservations, because this place was amazing.”

“Right?” you pop a mint into your mouth and offer one to Tup. “This is definitely going on the list of favorites.”

“Absolutely,” Tup agrees while taking the mint. He clasps his hand in yours and you stroll leisurely down the sidewalk together.

Date nights are your favorite nights. You and Tup always make it a point to set aside one night, while he’s on leave, dedicated solely to each other. It’s a time of bonding and learning about each other. Even though you’ve been together for two years now, you don’t want to get complacent and lose the spark that you had in the beginning. In order for the night to be considered a true date night, it must consist of three things: food, fun, and intimacy.

The food portion of the night has happily concluded at the new restaurant you just left. After your original reservation was mysteriously lost, you wandered down the streets looking for somewhere else to have dinner and this little hole in the wall with a crooked neon sign piqued both your interests. The inside had a lively atmosphere and good music. And although the menu was limited, the portions were huge and you barely finished your shared dessert.

The fun portion was completed before the food. You found out the hard way that food before fun only ended up making you both sick, so you switched them around. Tonight you swept the floor with Tup at mini-golf. He talked a good game, but his mini-swing lacked any sort of form. His golf balls landed in the water, in the dirt, over the fence, and in someone's drink cup. You really didn’t think someone could be that bad at mini-golf, but Tup is always surprising you.

Now, all that’s left is the intimacy portion. Intimacy can be anything as long as you do it together and are completely alone. Some nights you will bake cupcakes and make a mess with the frosting, or take a hot shower and wash each other’s hair, or cuddle up with a good holo-film and eat copious amounts of junk food, or just have sex. The day usually ends in sex, but it isn’t the point, or the main focus of date night, so it always falls to the bottom of the list of priorities.

The sun is setting beyond the horizon as you make your way home and you sigh in contentment as you lean your head against Tup’s shoulder. He glances down at you, smiles, raises your clasped hand to his lips, and kisses your knuckles. You smile warmly in return for his affection. Today’s date night is perfect and the weather could not be better. It’s not too hot, which is always a concern in the summer, with a light breeze that brushes gently by your exposed skin.

You continue walking down the street, clasped hands blithefully swaying in the air like a young couple in love, relishing in each other’s presence. You see a bench coming up in your path and instead of letting go of Tup’s hand and going around it, you climb up it to walk across. Tup doesn’t miss a beat and continues holding your hand from the ground while you stretch out your other arm to balance. Once across, you gracefully hop off the end and continue your journey.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Tup praises as he leans over and plants a kiss on your temple.

“Stop it,” you laugh and tap his arm in jest.

Tup flexes his bicep and twirls you around to rest against his chest. He crosses his arms over your stomach to trap you and you giggle. He leans his chin atop your shoulder and whispers in your ear. “Never.”

You close your eyes and place your hands on his forearms as he sways back and forth, slowly dancing on the sidewalk to non existent music. You let yourself melt into his body’s warmth, feeling his firm chest against your back and his strong arms holding you, securing you in a gentle embrace. You don’t care who’s watching and you don’t care what they think. When you're with Tup your inhibitions and insecurities dissipate like clouds on a sunny day.

You open your eyes and continue to sway when you catch a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of your eye. Your body stiffens and a shiver runs up your spine. You study the figure and your stomach drops as your heart rate increases. It’s him. You can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You try to look away from his menacing presence as he observes you from the shadows, but you can’t. Your blood runs cold as fear washes over you.

Tup feels your muscles tense against his own as you stop swaying with him. The sudden change in your demeanor demands his attention. He notices goosebumps forming on your arms and wonders if you’re getting cold. He mentally kicks himself for not bringing a sweatshirt with him in case you needed it, however, something about your shivering feels off. The evening air is warm, not cool, as demonstrated by the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

“Cyare?” Tup asks in concern while cocking his head to the side.

You don’t answer, too afraid to form coherent words. It’s as if someone glued your mouth shut.

“Cyare?” Tup asks again, this time gently turning you around to face him. The look in your eyes tugs at his heartstrings. He can finally see what he was feeling emanating from your body, pure fear.

You startle at the movement and look into Tup’s deep amber eyes, searching desperately for safety and comfort. Tup stares back, silently asking what you need from him, waiting for you to speak. You finally mutter the words. “I want to go home.” The syllables are soft spoken, almost broken, as if one more utterance would break an invisible dam, releasing a cascade of emotions.

Tup doesn’t understand what is happening, but he does understand you, and if you say it’s time to go home, then it’s time to go home. For him, no more words need to be spoken. Whether you want to talk about it when you get home or not is up to you, but that’s not his main concern at the moment. His only concern is your safety and your wellbeing. He nods at your request, giving you assurance, clasps your hand in his, and begins walking towards home.

Tup takes ten steps and you abruptly stop. He doesn’t notice at first and continues walking, but stops when he feels the resistance as your hand strays from his. He turns on his heels and furrows his brow with concern. He doesn’t understand what is causing this sudden trepidation, but he’s growing worried. Is it him? Did he do something to cause this? The thoughts nag at the back of his mind, but he shoves them away in search of something more definite from you.

“Can we take the long way home?” you ask nervously, your gaze fixated on the shadowy figure Tup was inadvertently walking towards.

Tup’s confusion continues. The long way is ten blocks from your position. The short way is only two blocks. Tup scratches his head and searches your features. He watches you pick at your fingers, biting your lip, your legs trembling, and the way your chest heaves as if you’re being deprived of oxygen. He scans past you, desperately wondering what or who is scaring you so fiercely that you want to walk an extra eight blocks home, but nothing catches his eye.

Tup is snapped out of his focused gaze by you tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Please?” you plead with shaky breath, tears threatening to escape your eyes.

Tup’s heart shatters. He’s never seen you like this before. “Yes, of course,” Tup rushes to say when he realizes he’s taking too long to respond to your original question. “We can stop by that ice cream stand in the park on the way. Sounds good?”

He gives you a small smile, hoping for your bright and cheery disposition to return at the prospect of your favorite summer treat, ice cream, but you don’t smile back and answer only with a slight nod. Tup frowns, his efforts to lighten the mood fail, but he takes your hand in his and grips it tightly to reassure you of his presence. If anything, he wants you to know he’s there for you, even if you never tell him what’s wrong, he’ll always be there.

You both walk in silence as you wind the long way around to your apartment. Tup continues to scan the surroundings, still searching for the source of your sudden fear, but he can’t locate it. The thought of him being oblivious to such an enormous fear of yours makes him feel insecure about how attentive he is. Maybe he missed it in a conversation or maybe you said it in passing and he forgot. He racks his brain trying to figure it out, but the dots won’t connect.

A cold shiver runs up Tup’s spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, stopping him dead in his tracks. This feeling. He knows this feeling, intimately. He first felt it on Umbara as a shiny and he never forgot it. The feeling of cold eyes watching him from the shadows, waiting to strike him down. Is this what you saw? Is the source of these threatening eyes what is terrorizing his love? His breath quickens and he turns around, putting himself between you and the menacing gaze.

Tup steels himself, his eyes scanning for the source. He knows it’s out there, waiting, coiled, and ready to strike at him with venomous fangs. Then he sees it, the figure in the shadows that’s been watching and following. How long it’s been following you both, he’s not sure, but he’s going to end it here and now. He lets his training kick in and prepares himself physically and mentally. He’s faced many enemies and he’s not going to back down from whatever this one is.

The figure, realizing it’s been noticed, steps out of the shadows. Tup’s eyes grow wide as he looks at the towering figure and he takes a cautionary step back. The man is massive, at least three times his size and built like a gunship. Tup’s heart rate increases as he feels naked and exposed without his armor and his blaster. He understands now, your fear, because that same fear is biting at the back of his spine, threatening to alter his fight response into a flight response.

The large man takes a step forward, and Tup takes two steps back, pushing you back along with him. This isn’t good. Tup scans his surroundings quickly but there’s nothing he can use as a makeshift weapon. If this encounter turns violent, it’s going to be a fist fight and it won’t be pretty. The man steps forward again, chuckling darkly as Tup takes another few steps back. Tup glances over his shoulder and grimaces as he notices you’re both being backed into an alley.

“You thought you could run away from me again, did ya?” the man sneers.

Tup is baffled by his words, but he feels you bury your face into his back and a few pieces begin to click in his mind. “Do you know this guy?” Tup throws over his shoulder as he continues to back you both into the alley.

Your legs tremble as you try to move in step with Tup. “He’s…” you attempt to force the words out. “He’s my stalker.”

Tup curses under his breath as he mentally calculates the different outcomes, none of them ending well. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Tup asks, trying to swing his voice to sound more inquisitive than condemning.

“I thought he couldn’t find me here,” you answer through a shaky voice. “He’s been obsessed with me for years. I have eight restraining orders on eight different planets.”

Tup curses under his breath again. “Do you have a restraining order for him on Coruscant?” Tup continues his inquiry, well aware that it’s a dumb question.

You nod your head and ball his t-shirt tightly in your fists. This is your worst nightmare. You’ve been moving from planet to planet for years attempting to shake him, but he always ends up finding you. There’s not a police force in the galaxy that has been able to catch him. He’s elusive and cunning, a stark contrast to his brutish appearance, and he’ll do anything to make you his. The sheer terror you feel in this moment is overwhelming and you want to vomit.

“What’s the matter baby?” the man asks. “Why aren’t you happy to see me?”

You flinch at the words. A muscle in Tup’s jaw tics as anger brims under the surface from your terrified reaction. He gives your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s not your baby,” Tup scoffs at the man’s false insinuation.

“Oh?” the man raises an eyebrow. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Tup states confidently while using every bit of conviction he has.

The man laughs loudly and points at Tup. “Him? You chose a clone over me? This subhuman blaster fodder is your boyfriend? Don’t make me laugh baby.”

Tup narrows his eyes as ire burns in his gut. The insults about his existence don’t bother him anymore. Not everyone has the same view about clones, but he’s still flesh and blood, like any other lifeform, and it doesn’t make him any less human if he shares the same DNA with a million other men. He has feelings, a personality, likes and dislikes, just like everyone else. No. What’s really bothering him is your tears soaking through the back of his shirt and it fuels his anger.

The man walks forward. “Come on baby, I’m taking you back home.”

“Over my dead body,” Tup snarls as he steps forward to meet the man’s movement. It no longer matters that he doesn’t have his armor or his blaster. This is carnal. This is something ingrained in him that just feels right. An overwhelming instinct to protect what’s his. No one is taking you away from him, not while he’s still alive and breathing.

The man straightens up to his full height, flexes his muscles, and cracks his neck. “I was hoping you would say that.”

His intimidation tactic is working as Tup feels an incredible wave of dread wash over him. He discreetly slips his hand in his pants pocket and activates the distress beacon on his comm link. Whether anyone will actually see it and come to his aid he doesn’t know, but it’s better than nothing. Tup takes a deep breath, gently pushes you aside, and stands his ground. He’s a clone trooper after all and he was bred to fight. This is what he’s good at, and he’s going to do it.

“Come on, clone,” the man taunts with a wave of his hand. “Show me what those little arms can do.”

“Sooran ni’jagyc,” Tup shoots back as a challenge.

Your jaw drops in shock. You’ve never heard something so vulgar come from Tup’s mouth, at least not when he’s with you. You imagine his vocabulary must be pretty colorful as a soldier, so it’s not surprising, but it sounds weird coming from his lips. You watch nervously as the two men square each other up, like predator and prey. You slink back to a reasonably safe distance into the alley to give Tup the room to maneuver without you getting in his way. The tension in the air thickens.

The man lunges forward and Tup quickly evades his first strike. The attacker is large and his movements are sluggish and unrefined, whereas Tup is smaller, quicker, and more precise with his movements. Tup remains weary, even with his slight advantage from years of training. They play a game of hit and miss for several minutes and you fidget with your fingers and tap your foot as you watch. Your stomach lurches at the brutal swings as you wait for one to find its mark.

Sweat begins to form on Tup’s brow as he dodges another swing. His stamina is still good and if he can keep outmaneuvering his opponent, he just might tire him out. The man is getting frustrated that he can’t land any hits and his movements become more erratic and desperate. Tup takes the opportunity to look for an opening, anywhere he can land a hit. He finally sees one and goes for it, but Tup’s fist is caught mid-flight, the man’s hand encapsulating his entirely.

“Gotcha,” the man says as he peers down at Tup with a devilish smirk.

Dread washes over Tup’s face at the realization that he’s been caught. He knows it’s over. He knows he can’t break free, not from the iron grip surrounding his hand. He once again feels small, naked, and afraid for not only his life, but also yours. A part of him recognizes he may not survive what comes next and he glances back over his shoulder to give you the best smile he can, knowing it may be the last one he gives you.

“Look away, mesh’la,” Tup orders as calmly as he can. He doesn’t want you to see what’s going to happen next.

You nod, but you don’t intend to look away. At your confirmation, Tup’s gaze snaps back to the man towering over him. He tries to yank his fist out of the man’s grasp, but it won’t budge. The man watches Tup’s feeble attempts at breaking free and laughs. He rotates his fist outward, slowly bending Tup’s arm, forcing the clone to his knees as he winces from the twisting force. Tup grabs the man’s arm with his free one to try and stop his movement, but it’s not enough.

Crack

You gasp at the sound of breaking bone and the agonizing scream that follows. You put your hand over your mouth as your stomach churns. You’ve never heard Tup make a sound like that. It’s an unnerving and frightening sound that reverberates in your mind and echoes through your eardrums as it bounces off the walls of the alley. You should have listened and looked away. The sight of his arm twisted and mangled into a position inhumanly possible is not one that will soon leave your mind.

“Tup!” you yell as tears roll down your face.

“I said, look away!” Tup cries through labored breath, pain radiating through his broken voice.

This time you listen, clamping your hands over your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You slide down the alley wall, slumping to the ground, and place your head against your knees. You don’t want to see it and you don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to witness this horrific display. It’s unfair that Tup has to suffer because of you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you wonder what you could have done differently to prevent this from happening, but nothing comes to mind.

Crack

You flinch at the fracturing of more bone and the excruciating shriek that follows. You press your hands firmly over your ears, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t drown out Tup’s tortured voice as he groans in pain. You want it to stop, all of it. You want him to stop. You want him to leave Tup alone and both of you go back to the way your night was before your stalker arrived. You flip through images of Tup in your mind and try to focus on his soothing voice and warm smile.

Crack

Your happy memories are shattered like Tup’s body while his anguished cries float across the air and find their way between your fingers and into your ears. You let out a frightened whimper at the noise, even though the sound of his suffering is your morbid reminder that he’s still alive. You want to open your eyes, but you're afraid. Then you hear a different sound, a gasping of breath. No. He’s going to kill him. You finally brave a peek at the scene and you gasp in horror at the sight.

Your stalker has his hand wrapped around Tup’s throat, holding him several feet off the ground as blood drips from his pant legs and puddles on the ground beneath him. Tup’s limbs are twisted in a way they shouldn’t, with pieces of bone sticking out through bloody skin and ripped clothing. The pain he must be feeling is indescribable. You watch helplessly as Tup wriggles his mangled body gasping for whatever breath he can while using his only good hand to pull at the hand choking him.

You slam your fist on the ground and sob. You’re desperate for someone to save him, anyone, but there’s no one. It’s just the three of you. The only person who can save Tup is you and you’re not even sure if you can. You think about how Tup selflessly threw himself at his adversary to protect you and you want to do the same. You want to protect him, save him, because it’s better for Tup to be alive without you, than to live knowing his death was your fault.

You pick yourself up off the ground and stand on shaky legs like a newborn bantha. With one step at a time, you approach the man holding your mutilated boyfriend, stopping as you reach his side. You look up at Tup, his face is almost unrecognizable and his hair has left the confines of its tie with locks of curls pasted to his face with blood. Your heart breaks. “Please,” you beg with a shaky breath. “Please, let him go.”

The man moves his gaze from the bloody toy in his grasp and peers down at you. “Why should I?” he asks with a huff.

You take a sharp inhale and steel yourself. “If you let him go, I’ll go home with you,” you breathe out, completely surprising yourself with your resolve.

The man raises a curious eyebrow at your proposition.

“N… o…” Tup croaks out from beneath the man's chokehold, his eyes trying to meet yours, but all he sees is a film of red.

Annoyed by the talking piece of meat in his grip, the man takes his other hand and slams it against Tup’s jaw, knocking it out of place with a single deft movement. Blood flings from Tup’s face and splatters across yours as he lets out a stifled groan. His head rolls back as he fades in and out of consciousness. You gasp in horror at the violent act and you raise a trembling hand to your face to wipe Tup's blood off, taking a moment to stare at the crimson stain on your fingers.

“There,” the man smiles satisfactorily. “Now we won’t be interrupted.”

New waves of terror wash over you as shock threatens to take over your system, but you continue to stand your ground, determined to save Tup. “Please,” you ask again with as much sincerity as you can muster. “Please let him go and I’ll go home with you.”

The man contemplates your offer and finally drops his toy. Tup gasps, with what little ability he has left, as he hits the ground hard. You sigh in relief, but it quickly turns to more horror as you watch the man kick Tup in the stomach and hurl him against the wall of the alley. At this point, Tup can’t make any more noises. He just lies against the wall, limp, bleeding, and broken. You look up at the man and beg him to leave Tup alone. You beg and beg and beg, crying for him to stop.

The man walks over to Tup’s mutilated, bloody body and picks him up by the neck again, his twisted arms and legs dangling lifelessly. The man looks at you and smirks. “Do you know where clones belong?”

You whimper, stifling back a sob, and shake your head.

“In the trash,” the man laughs as he tosses Tup’s body in the closest dumpster.

You tremble at the echoing thud Tup’s body makes when it lands in the dumpster. You wonder if he’s dead. He must be dead. No one can survive that level of physical abuse. You fall to your knees and sob. You sob for your lost love and you sob because it’s all your fault. You brought your past into Tup’s present and now he’s paid for it with his life. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the life you wanted and now you’re mourning the life you had. The life you loved.

The man grabs your arm and yanks you up from the ground. There’s nothing more you can do now. You don’t have a choice. All hope has been lost. You have found yourself at the end of a very terrifying road with no one to protect you and no one to save you. You swallow hard and accept your fate, a fate that Tup died in vain to prevent. You reluctantly go with the man who murdered your love, turning back to look into the alley one last time to mouth a silent I'm sorry.

“You’re overreacting,” Fives criticizes while putting his hands behind his head. “He probably hit it by accident.”

“That doesn’t sound like Tup,” Echo argues as he concentrates on the beacon. “He could be in danger.”

“It’s date night,” Fives reminds Echo with a cheeky grin. “The only danger he’s in is getting blue balls.”

“Real mature, Fives,” Echo rolls his eyes without looking up from the data-pad.

“Listen,” Fives starts, “I was having a great night until you dragged me out here, in full kit no less, to track down Tup and his girlfriend.”

“Yes, I’m sure your hand is missing you very much,” Echo jokes with a small smirk.

Fives flicks an unamused look towards his brother and scrunches his nose to mock him. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“Just shut up and focus,” Echo says with annoyance.

Fives crosses his arms against his chest in protest and continues walking beside Echo in silence. They follow Tup’s distress signal, winding their way past shops and restaurants illuminated by fluorescent neon signs. The vivid colors and bright lights dance across their armor against the dark backdrop of the night. They stop momentarily when the beacon alerts them to the location of Tup’s comm link being only a little distance up ahead.

Trading concerned looks between each other, they warily continue forward. Echo watches the beacon closely, the beeping pattern matching his anxious heartbeat. There’s no reason for Tup to be here in an empty street like this. They walk past an alley and the beeping from the beacon slows. Echo puts a hand across Five’s chest to halt him, then takes a few steps back. The beacon beeps faster as he approaches the entrance of the dark alley.

Odd is the only word the two Arc Trooper’s can come up with as they share a nervous look. They step into the damp alley, flicking on their helmet lights to see into the darkness, but nothing catches their gaze. There’s nothing in the alley other than garbage, dumpsters, and mysterious liquids littering the ground. They continue to look around, the beacon guiding them to the distress signal. The beeping is loudest by the dumpster and they move towards it to investigate.

“I knew it,” Fives sighs as he puts his hands on his hips. “He lost it and it ended up in the trash. I told you it was nothing to worry about.”

Echo grumbles at Fives’ words, crosses his arms in annoyance, and leans against the opposite wall.

“He owes me for this,” Fives says as he walks toward the open part of the dumpster. He grips the metal side with both hands and hoists himself up to peer inside. He prepares himself for the stench, but nothing could have prepared him for the horrific sight. A beaten and bloody clone. His breath hitches and his stomach jumps into his throat. He swings his legs over the side of the dumpster and jumps in.

He kneels next to the clone. Their body is so mangled and twisted, he can’t tell who it is. He brushes the hair out of their battered face and his heart sinks. A blood stained teardrop under their right eye. No. It can’t be. This can’t be Tup. Fives’ heart races. He puts two fingers to the side of his brother’s neck, checking for a pulse, repeating ‘please don’t be dead’ to himself over and over again, a silent wish. Then he feels it, a faint rhythm pushing back.

“Hang on vod’ika,” Fives whispers as he gently brushes more strands of the blood-caked hair away from his face. “Hang on for me.” He debates whether he should move Tup himself, but with the amount of bodily damage, there’s no good way to pick him up without injuring him further. Fives curses to himself. “Call the corries,” He orders through comms. His voice is steady, but conceals a bitterness.

Echo is startled out of his roaming thoughts and pushes himself off the alley wall he was leaning against, “What did you find?”

“I said call the corries!” Fives yells, his voice now demanding as anger and worry seeps through. “And get a medic!”

Echo is taken aback by Fives’ aggressive tone and jogs over to the dumpster to see what he found. If they need the Corrie Guard and a medic, it can’t be good. He jumps up the side of the dumpster and leans over to see Fives kneeling next to a bloody body, a clone trooper’s body. Echo’s face contorts beneath his helmet and he wants to gag, not just at the smell, but also at the morbid sight of bones sticking out of the beaten trooper’s lifeless body.

He stares for a moment longer when the realization washes over him like the raging waves of Kamino. The distress beacon, the alley, the dumpster, the bloody clone. It’s Tup. There’s no denying it, those lengthy curls, the tattoo under his eye. It’s him. Echo’s blood boils and he lets go of the side of the dumpster, landing back on the ground with a soft thud. He calls it in, his normally stoic voice steeped in fear and anger. Fear for his brother’s life and anger at the perpetrator.

After the call is made, Echo makes a second terrifying realization. He looks farther down the alley, scanning it for another life. A second cold wave washes over him. You’re not here. You’re not in the dumpster. You’re not in the alley. You’re nowhere to be found. The thought that you did this to Tup flashes across his mind, but dissipates just as quickly. There’s no way you could do this type of damage to a clone trooper. No, it must have been someone else.

The Coruscant Guard, led by Fox, finally arrive on scene. Flashes of red and blue illuminate the area and the alley is marked off with yellow crime scene tape. Late night bystanders stare in curiosity at the commotion, crowding the corrie guards as they try to keep the public out of the way. Echo gives Fox a rundown of the situation and mentions that you were out with Tup and are now missing. Fox records the information and places a reassuring hand on Echo’s shoulder.

“We’ll find who did this to your brother, and locate the missing girl,” Fox promises.

Echo worries his lip and takes his helmet off, tucking it neatly under his arm. “With all due respect, sir,” Echo begins, pausing for a moment to decide whether he’d like his next words to be a question or a statement, "we’d rather take this one.” He knows they have no jurisdiction on Coruscant and no business taking on local crime, but this is different. This is one of their own. This is their brother. He has to try. He has to find a way for them to be involved, to get revenge.

Fox pauses at the bold statement, his expression hidden behind his helmet. He studies the ARC trooper in front of him, a level of burning passion and rage alight behind his eyes. He can already tell there’s no stopping this clone, or his brothers. Even if he orders them to stay out of it, they’ll never obey, and that will just create more paperwork for him. Fox sighs, hoping he doesn’t regret his decision. He points to his men. “The boys will give you what you need.”

Echo nods his thanks and Fox nods back before returning to his men to explain the new situation. Echo grits his teeth and clenches his bicep around his bucket. He’s angry. No. He’s furious. His brother is lying in a pool of his own blood, straining for air, and walking a thin line between life and death. His only thoughts now are retribution. Whoever did this is going to pay in blood. He takes a deep breath to calm himself and walks back to the alley to check on Fives.

Extricating Tup from the dumpster is no small feat, not with the amount of damage done to his body. The corrie guard had to bring in special tools to take apart the side of the dumpster piece by piece. Fives stays inside the dumpster with Tup and shields him from the sparks as they cut the bolts loose. Once the side of the dumpster is removed, medics work delicately to lift Tup out of the garbage and onto a stretcher. Fives does his best to help, but the medics push him away.

Echo watches the medics work and approaches the hole in the dumpster once Tup is safely removed. He peers inside and sees Fives still kneeling in the garbage, his armor covered in blood. Covered in Tup’s blood. He watches as Fives picks up the flashing comm link that was hidden beneath Tup’s body. He grips it in his hand and chucks it past Echo while yelling in frustration. He pulls his bucket off his head, leaving blood stains behind from his soaked gloves.

“How did this happen?” Fives asks, his voice angry and quivering.

Echo drops his gaze and kicks the ground. He has the same question with the same nonexistent answer. He lifts his gaze back up to meet Fives and offers a hand to help him out of the dumpster. Fives takes a deep breath and grabs his brother’s hand to pull himself up. They both sigh and lean against the wall of the alley, neither knowing what to say. Their silence is broken when Fox comes back around to grab their statements and to let them know he contacted Rex.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the squad to show up. Some in their civvies, some in their armor, and some in gym clothes, but all with worried looks plastered onto their faces. Echo and Fives maneuver out of the alley to greet them, waving back to Fox in thanks for his help. Their brother’s eyes plead for answers, for explanations, for anything that will tell them what’s going on. They see the blood stains on Fives’ armor and murmurs erupt between the clones.

“Maker!” Captain Rex exclaims when he sees Fives. “What happened to you?”

Fives chews on his lip, unsure of what to say when he realizes Fox didn’t tell them what happened. “It’s...” he pauses, the thought forming into a painful crushing weight on his chest. “It’s not mine.”

“Then who’s is it?!” Rex questions vehemently while looking around and doing a mental headcount of his men, desperately trying to figure out which one of them is missing from the ranks.

Fives casts his gaze to the side, unwilling to meet his captain’s anxious and questioning eyes. He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to keep saying it. The amount of times he’s already had to recount what he’s seen is one too many. The words are like poison, slowly peeling away at the layers of his tongue, making it raw with emotion. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. It makes him sick. The words, the smell, and the image twists his gut in discomfort.

“It’s Tup’s,” Echo answers when he notices the distant look in Fives’ eyes. The words are like sharp needles pricking his lips as they exit, leaving a bitter and bloody aftertaste.

Shock sweeps over the group of clones like billowing smoke, stinging their eyes and stealing their breaths. Their respective nights had been interrupted by an emergency comm from Rex notifying them that one of their brother’s was the victim of a crime. Dinners had been left cold, warm beds had been abandoned, and activities had been ditched at a moment's notice. They thought they were prepared for whatever this crime was, but they were wrong, very wrong.

“Hey!” Kix hollers after scanning the area to locate Tup. “That’s my trooper!” He runs over to where the medics are attempting to stabilize Tup for transport and demands a debrief from the lead medic.

The two medics argue back and forth about Tup’s condition and who has jurisdiction. Kix gets in the lead medic’s face, pointing a finger at his chest, and yelling expletives. No one gets in Kix’s way or tries to stop him, because they all feel the same way, the same fear and anger. Fox overhears the heated discussion and intervenes between the two clones before a fight breaks out. He sees the same fire in Kix’s eyes as the ARC trooper and lets him take the lead of the medics on scene.

Fives watches the ordeal and rubs his hand across his chin, pulling at his bottom lip in exasperation, while absent-mindedly leaving a trail of blood across his chin and goatee. Echo notices the striking smear and cringes at his brother’s appearance. He steps in front of Fives and brings his hand up to his twin’s face to wipe it away. Fives leans his head back in resistance to the odd gesture, but the glint in Echo’s eyes convinces him to trust what he’s doing.

“You should change into something else,” Echo mentions as he works to wipe the blood off.

Fives looks down at his armor and a small alarm sets off in the back of his brain. He drops his bucket and looks at his hands, pressing his fingers together while watching the blood ooze from his soaked gloves. He was so wrapped up in helping Tup, he didn’t even notice just how much of his blood was on him, staining him with a constant reminder of his brother’s mutilated body. He rips his gloves off and starts yanking his armor off, stripping like a madman in the street.

He needs it off. All of it. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. He doesn’t want to remember the disgusting images in his head. He’s seen blood before, lots of blood, but not this blood. This blood is different. This isn’t the blood of the faceless enemy, this is the blood of his brother. He claws at his blacks, desperately trying to remove them from his body in a frenzy. Through his hysterical haze, he feels Echo place two firm hands on either of his shoulders and he stops.

Fives looks into Echo’s eyes as Echo breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. He copies Echo’s breathing, slowly bringing his panicked breath in sync with his brother’s calm breath. Once he settles in the new rhythm, Echo closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Fives’, silently reminding him that he’s not alone and that Tup is still alive and fighting. Fives closes his eyes and lets his mind go blank, mentally preparing himself for what comes next.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

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witchthewriter · 9 months

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𝕾𝖍𝖎𝖕 𝖋𝖔𝖗 @pandorasdead.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑺𝒐𝒂𝒑! 𝑶𝒓 … 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉. I think he'd be the exact partner that you're looking for. Or rather, who you're meant for - but you don't know it. That's definitely how your relationship would unfold - both unaware that the feelings are so intense, trying to pretend it's nothing. But really if anything happened to you, Soap would go out of his mind.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

You said you wanted someone tall, and hun you are 5'3 - everyone is tall compared to you <3 But I headcanon that Johnny is around 6 foot. In the original game he was listed as 6'2. So we can say that is his height <3

So he would definitely use that to his advantage. Placing things on high cupboards and dangling things just out of your reach. He's a menace.

When he's deployed, he carries around a polaroid of you, with a note taped to the back that says, "I love you Johnny, come back to me."

Wearing each other's clothes; this literally goes both ways. When Soap forgets to do laundry, he'll literally wear one of your tops. Once you were about to leave the house and found him laying on the couch with a tight pink shirt on (it made his chest look pretty amazing)

His love language is physical touch, words of affirmation and ... physical touch. This man is an absolute sook when he comes back to you. Wherever you go, he goes. The first two days back, he'll just pick you up and ask where you need to go, and carry you.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA (and there are awesome covers by various artists as well!)

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Being on the brink of admitting their feelings for each other but then getting interrupted.

Malewife x Girlboss aka Barbie and Ken

You Confessed Your Love When Thinking He Was Unconscious

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Love In Denial

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

That you want to better yourself - you aren't stagnant. You're continuously growing and it makes him want to do it as well. And it isn't just a physical thing; it's growing emotionally and mentally. Becoming wiser and more compassionate.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

GAZ! Gaz would be your best friend without a doubt. Constantly teasing both you and Soap. It was actually him spurring Soap on to actually act on his feelings. But funnily enough, it was you who spoke up first.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

It's so hard because ... there's barely any feminine characters but I think you're a mix of Rudy, Price and Soap. Rudy seems to be the most ... quiet? Sensitive? Price knows what to do, he's ready for what comes next. And Soap brings such a lightheartedness that everyone relies on.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

A completely black cat, who some in the witch community would call a familiar because he seems connected to you somehow. It was pure luck how you found him.

A stray that walked past you, stopped and sat right in front of you at the airport carpark. You had just seen Johnny off as he flew back to base, and then here this little guy was, following you.

He had no collar, when you took him to the vets, he had no chip or record. So you decided to keep him. Because what are the odds that a cat actually wants to be around a human?

(Oh and Johnny didn't mind one bit. He always got upset that you had to live by yourself. He was glad you had company! He isn't one of those types of people who hates cats.)

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈! The only man on this show who shows an ounce of kindness, loyalty, devotion and protectiveness rather than possessiveness. He's well-rounded and has a good head on his shoulders. The other men are too harsh for you, too cruel. I don't think you could be with someone who is violent - towards others.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Made your heart drop to the floor the very first time you saw him. His brown curls, tanned skin, and kind smile made you swoon. (Little did you know, he was staring at you the entire time)

I just know this man loves to boogie - from his training, Harwin has very good foot work. And rhythm is a big part of handling a sword and going through the motions - so when it's time to dance during feasts, eyes are always on the two of you

Likes to take you out at night and lay down on a soft patch of grass (his cloak already laid out for you), so you can watch the stars together. The first night you did this, there was a shooting star.

Can communicate just by the look in your eyes. Harwin is getting better at it, but sometimes his face is just too obvious.

When he realised he was in love with you - that was it for him. No one else could compare. So he asked his father for the family ring and kept it in his pocket until the right moment arose.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Golden Years by David Bowie

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Hey can I have a…" (You) x "Yes. Whatever it is. Yes." (Harwin)

Moral/Emotional Support

You Fell First, But They Fall Harder

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Everyone Can See It But The Two Of You

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

How thoughtful you are; you observe so much around you and notice more than others. (That could actually make you a big player in the 'game').

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Laena; I think she would bring out the wild, untamed version of you and you would help her ... wisen up. You two would laugh a lot together though; arms linked and sitting together whenever you can.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mixture of Rhaenys, Harwin, and Rhaena. Rhaenys - wisdom, knowledge, patience, intuition. Harwin - kindness, compassion, devotion. Rhaena - youthfulness, observant, loyal.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

Whether you're a Targaryen, a Velaryon or a Dragonseed - it does not matter. Because you bonded with a dragon. The one and only Silverwing, who was once the mount of the Good Queen Alysanne.

#witchthewriter #headcanons #match ups #call of duty #call of duty match ups #call of duty pair ups #house of the dragon #house of the dragon pair ups #house of the dragon match ups

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destinyisall-tlk · 2 years

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sihtric - SFW alphabet headcanons

side note: template taken from here. side note #2: finan’s sfw alphabet headcanon side note #3: osferth’s sfw alphabet headcanon

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Sihtric is very affectionate, even more so when the two of you are alone. But he does not shy away from showing how much he adores you around the men either. He loves his women, and he does not care who knows it. Sihtric’s affections vary depending on his mood. When it’s time to leave for a long journey, it’s a mix of gentle admiration via holding your hand around the village or kissing you. When you and Sihtric are in the privacy of each other’s home, his affections are a little more hands-on. He loves to kiss your neck, slowly just because he knows it annoys the hell out of you when he teases. He enjoys holding you from behind, running his hands down your stomach and waist.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’ll be a very protective best friend. Ready to fight and defend your honour even if his opponent is twice his size. Sihtric is your most loyal, honest friend who only wants happiness for you. It is why, sometimes, he offers sharp advice because he hates that you think you don’t deserve to be treated like royalty. He’s the kind of best friend who you can wrap yourself in their arms, talk about your interests and Sihtric would sit back and listen to you rumble, smiling at how much your eyes sparkle. He’s the kind of best friend that you can banter with, and feel safe with.

The friendship started when you nearly whacked him with a stick out in the woods while picking berries and flowers. He was travelling with the lads and went down by the river to drink and wash the dirt from his face. He saw the basket of berries thinking someone was in trouble, when he went to investigate, the two of you bumped into each other and you quickly grabbed a nearby stick for defence. Sihtric apologized for startling you. And later, when he arrived at your village, he jokingly put his hands up in defence, “I’m not here to steal any berries, promise”.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Very much so. Sihtric’s love language is touch. Anything that allows him to hold you, Sihtric is all for. He loves when you rest in between his legs, your back pressed against his chiselled chest. In that position, he can lightly run his fingers over your bare skin, whisper loving or dirty thoughts in your ear and wrap his arms around you for hours.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

The moment Sihtric laid his eyes on you he knew you’d become his wife. Time is such a fickle thing and Sihtric doesn’t want to waste any of it. So weeks after the two of you met, he asked Uhtred for his blessing and then he proposed.

Sihtric isn’t the best at cooking and cleaning, but he tries. You often give him the easiest tasks to complete just so he feels helpful. But what skills Sihtric lacks in the kitchen, he makes up for it in the bedroom.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Gently and with an endless amount of hurt and sorrow. The very last thing Sihtric ever wants to do is be the source of your heart break. He’d take you to your favourite spot along the river, and with a heavy heart end things.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sihtric is a one woman lady. When he met you, no other woman was more beautiful, more for him, than you. The only thing that could ever take Sihtric away from you is death.

Weeks. It would’ve been days but you talked Sihtric into waiting a little and not jump into things in case he changed his mind. He would lightly chuckle, pull you closer and say, “I have the most beautiful woman in my arms, I’d be a fool to change my mind”.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite his physical appearance, one you described as having been built by the Gods themselves, Sihtric is the most gentle man you’ve ever known.

Physically his touches feel like feathers, especially if you are injured. He takes great care in treating your body with care and respect. Emotionally, Sihtric is not afraid to show vulnerability. But sometimes, his emotions do get the best of him. He doesn’t always convey his thoughts in the way he intended, but he is determined to be a better communicator.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

The hardest part is prying Sihtric away from a hug, even more so when he has returned from battle and all he wants to do is hold you. He loves hugs because you fit so perfectly in his arms.

Sihtric hugs you often, if it isn’t a bear hug or a comforting embrace, he often swings one hand over your shoulder while the two of you walk around town. Anything that allows him to be close to you, Sihtric will do. His hugs are a promise that his arms will always be safe, a place where you can seek comfort.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The first time was when the two of you were best friends, Sihtric helping you pick berries alongside the river. He said it casually, watching with an amused grin when you almost fell into the water, dramatically calling out to Sihtric to come save you with his strong arms, as when he returned the first thing you noticed was how much his body transformed. He chuckled, shaking his head at your theatrics, and he loved you. Both of you simply laughed and brushed it aside, not realizing until a few weeks later that the love run deeper than friendship.

The second time Sihtric said the L-word was under the glistening starry night. You had told him whenever he left, you would come out to look at the stars, because, weirdly, you felt like he was close because the two of you, no matter where Sihtric was, were looking up at the same sky. You blushed at how silly that sounded, but Sihtric ensured that it did not sound silly at all. He lifted your chin, running his thumb gently across your bottom lip and whispered, “I love you”.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

There is no need for jealous for either you or Sihtric. The commitment to each other is iron-clad. But Sihtric does not enjoy when drunken men, or any man who thinks he can disrespect your connection with him by over-stepping boundaries. You instantly know when Sihtric is bothered by jealously when he becomes more hands-on then normal. Not in a possessive way, more so to let others know if they mess with you, they would have to deal with him.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses range from rough and passionate to delicate and filled with adoration. Your lips are his favourite place, and Sihtric loves whenever you smile in the middle of him kissing you. Sihtric doesn’t care where you kiss him as long as he feels your lips on his skin. But it sends his body wild when you kiss him along his chest, travelling down to his stomach.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He always wanted a big family, to do things better and give them a happier childhood than he did. Sihtric is a kid at heart, and he loves to showcase that around his children (or any children in the village). And on the announcement of your fourth child, Finan joked that rabbits procreated far less quickly than you and Sihtric.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Chaotic with several kids to look after. But you and Sihtric try to always squeeze in five minutes of peace, either when the two of you wake up or go to sleep. He loves to pull you into his chest and joke about how he should pawn off the children to uncle Finan or Osferth so he can spend more personal time with you. You smacked him in the chest and reminded him the last few times that happened, you ended up pregnant.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

When Sihtric is home, he settles the children in bed knowing that you’ve been alone with them for weeks. Then, he slides in behind you and massages your shoulders, back and neck. Night time is all about you, even when you protest that he needs to rest after the journey he endured. Sihtric would smile, kiss you softly and say, “Don’t worry about me. I rather look after my girl”.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Sihtric’s had a tough life, one that he often doesn’t like to talk about. He doesn’t want to weigh you down with his trauma. In the beginning he reveals causal things about him, things that anybody would reveal in small talk or over a cup of Ale. But afterwards, when you take him by the hand and swear to him that nothing he says will ever make you look at him differently, Sihtric slowly starts to tell you of his life. When he finishes you cup his cheeks, whispering, “You are a good man, Sihtric Kjartansson. Full of strength and bravery, with a gentle soul and heart. And I’m here by your side, forever”.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It depends on the situation. If it involves you being harmed in any way, Sihtric has no patience. He loses all sense of reason and with every step his anger rises. When it comes to the children, Sihtric’s patience becomes rocky but he made a promise to himself to never raise his voice. If they put themselves in danger, he will give them a stern lecture.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Not every detail, but the important ones Sihtric makes sure to remember.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you gave birth to his first child. Being by your side when giving birth is something Sihtric will never forget. Your sheer strength enduring the pain, and fighting through the tiredness that consumed you all to bring his child into the world, made Sihtric love you even more.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective, but Sihtric never crosses the line to possessiveness. He has nothing to worry about, therefore, he sees no reason to act in such a manner. But when your life or his children’s life is in danger, there is nothing in the world that could stop Sihtric from protecting his family.

He likes to protect you in all sorts of ways. Physically, defending your honour and putting threat’s down is the number one way. But emotionally he knows that protecting you requires a different part of him. Stressed, upset, and anxious, whenever Sihtric sees those emotions cross your face, he gathers you into his arms, kisses you on the forehead and whispers, “It’s okay, breathe. I got you”.

Sihtric rarely asks to be protected, he values himself as the protector. But even he can become overwhelmed. On those days/nights, you make his favourite meal, carefully undress him, rub his shoulders and run your hands up and down his back.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

A ton of effort, which Finan often complains makes him look bad. When your Birthday comes, he makes sure everyone knows it. When your wedding anniversary arrives, Sihtric ensures that from sunrise to sunset it’s about you - your pleasure. If on any important date, Sihtric has to leave, he’ll organize to celebrate a few days earlier. Everyday tasks vary. Errands like cutting wood, collecting supplies or wrangling the kids, he does with ease. All in all, Sihtric pulls his weight. Keeping his wife happy is his number one priority.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Sometimes he doesn’t know when to slow down, when to take time out for himself.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Sihtric likes to change his look from time to time, like the changing of the seasons. He’d ask for your opinion, but ultimately, he chooses a look that is low-maintenance.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, very. You’re apart of his soul, his heart. If he lost you, it would be like losing a limb. It would be like night losing the moon. The sky losing the sun. He wouldn’t be able to function at full capacity. You are a once in a life-time kind of love. He was made for you, and you for him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Sihtric always leaves his shirt for you whenever he goes on the road. He makes sure that it smells like him, folds it neatly and lays it on his side of the bed for you to wear anytime you miss him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He hates it when you shut him out. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally during serious arguments or disagreements, you spend the day blocking him out with silence. All Sihtric wants is to resolve the tension so he can hold you again.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Because Sihtric is quite a big man, he tends to take up most of the bed. That is why most nights are spent cuddled at his side, or Sihtric sliding his hands around your waist.

#the last kingdom #sihtric #arnas fedaravicius #sfw alphabet

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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ethan landry is perfect for romcoms.

ethan landry in a meet cute romcom. he spills coffee on your shirt when you have an interview for a job that would make your college experience tolerable. your shirt is white, pristine, perfect for the interview, and now it has a damp brown spot over your chest that you don't have time to fix. he apologizes profusely, and you let out a clenched "its fine" because you have to run back to your place and change. you're late for the interview, but it goes well, and you see ethan in a dining hall that afternoon and he looks like a deer in headlights when he sees you. he offers to buy you dinner, you accept, and the entire thing spirals from there.

ethan landry in a friends to lovers romcom. he's been your neighbor, and close friend, for years. you've always been closer to his sister, quinn, but the summer between your years of college when you're both home, a little more mature and willing to explore, changes things. through beach days, pool days, lake days, country club days, and movie nights, you grow closer and closer, emotionally and physically. and there's one night where you go to a party, and you're disrespected by some douche, leaving ethan to defend your honor, and suddenly you're kissing him in his car as a thank you before he drops you off next door. you're a little tipsy, he can taste it on your tongue, which brews a misunderstanding that isn't completely cleared up until the week before you're both due for move in. but there's always next summer. you both promise.

ethan landry in a hallmark romcom. your old friend from high school, the guy you hooked up with on the night of senior prom, and the guy you tried to forget as you went to college. now graduated and heading into the Real-Real World, you're back in your hometown for christmas after your december graduation and you just so happen to run into him at the place you both bonded over at 16. you share a coffee and a bite to eat, and can't help but notice how much he's filled out over the years. he helps you buy a tree, and helps you decorate. he goes gift shopping with you, and vents about how horrible he is at wrapping. he watches you as you teach him, and you start to notice just how he's looking at you. and it all comes to a head on new years eve when he finally kisses you just as the fireworks go off.

ethan in a "the bet" romcom. he went from the gapped tooth kid on the playground who used to do treasure hunts with you, to the jock who's best friends with the schools alpha, chad meeks-martin. you've stayed mostly the same, finding comfort with mindy meeks-martin, chad's twin sister. you're still in the same orbit, but far enough from each other to barely even give small smiles and waves. but suddenly he's really into you, asking you to homecoming, giving you his varsity jacket, taking you to sonic late at night to share oreo blasts with you. it's everything 8 year old you wanted, until you find out the truth after hanging out with his friends. they're laughing, 'ooo'ing, taunting you about being so dumb, and the only boys who look a little upset are chad and ethan. ethan's trying to apologize or explain, but you don't let him, reluctantly getting in the car with chad –– who you're also upset with because he knew –– who takes you to mindy, a shoulder you finally let yourself cry on.

ethan (and chad) in a love triangle romcom, the summer i turned pretty style. spending a summer on the island that your best friends have permanent homes on. you're torn between catching up with chad and ethan. your feelings are torn between chad and ethan. one a jock, everything young you ever dreamed of as you stared at posters of channing tatum during his modeling days. chad is suave, charming, experienced. and the other a little more nerdy. ethan is adorably awkward, a little timid, but he clearly cares about you so much. he's gotten so buff since the last time you visited, and his hair has gotten so curly and you just admire how pretty his teeth are without the braces you used to make fun of. late nights stargazing with ethan where he holds your cold hand up to point out constellations. nights at the local diner with chad where he tells you to order whatever you want and he gives you quarters to put into the jukebox. early mornings with ethan where he takes you with his dad to go fishing. early mornings with chad where he takes you surfing, giggling (and shirtless) as he teaches you the ins and outs. going to a kegger on the beach with both of their sisters, running into each boy separately, then together, all of the tension colliding in the moment where you stand far enough from the fire to not hear the chatter of teenagers. it's cold, the wind blows against you, they both offer their jackets, and you're left standing in the middle, trying to decide where to reach your hand.

#this was so fun and so cute #chad will always have a guest appearance #i'm actually obsessed no joke #ethansworld!#chadsworld!#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fluff #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin fluff #chad meeks martin x you #ethan landry x you #celeste writes scream

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myrcella · 3 years

Text

“I will hunt you, and I will break you!”

-—

This outburst far exceeded the vanity table incident a few days prior. Castle Dimitrescu seemed to respond to its mistress’ unbridled anger in tandem, croaking and cooling, and a flash of lightning broke through the window as if on cue—as if Alcina was equally as entwined with the village.

Your body jolted, but you were steeled by one of your daughters’ hands on your shoulder: Bela looked at you with unseen empathy. If it were any other moment, the gesture would have been a funny and fond one to reflect on—who was the elder and younger here?—but now there was pity in her eyes, and you were grateful.

“She will calm.”

“We have seen her worse...”

“But an ugly man thing never managed to touch us before.”

Daniela was the last to chip in, and her tone was clipped. She was skittish, the girl who played so often with fire and cackled when she burned. She was uncharacteristically afraid, now. It made you terrified.

Rose instinctively felt the panic in the air too. Four little limbs beat hard in yours, squirming and wriggling in a silken blanket, and an exhausted red face looked around, crying. Despite your wife’s reprimands to the man-thing who had been flung down several floors, the child was indeed in the castle, but very much claimed.

“Oh, Rosie...”

Your chest thundered but you ignored it for the baby, who needed your heart more than you did. You coddled her to your chest, pressed your nose into her downy hair that smelled milksweet. She was still human, so fragile and malleable. It wouldn’t be much longer...

“Mama is here. Don’t you worry... Don’t cry... You have all you need here, I promise... You’re better here...”

(Sometimes you did wonder if you said such things to yourself to soothe your guilt.)

Every minute was a small century, before the door to the room slowly opened. The familiar imposing figure of Alcina ducked below the doorway to sluggishly enter, and when she straightened, her eyes were glazed and jaw set firmly. She had not calmed completely, not yet, but you knew she needed you.

“Alcina...” It was barely even a whisper. Your voice was caught in your stomach.

“Mother, that awful creature! Just awful!”

“He shot me! In the chest! Right here! It hurt!”

“Even the flies didn’t want his stench!”

“And you had said he was tasty before!”

“No, definitely stale!”

Cassandra had crooned and glided over, shadowed by Daniela. Bela distanced herself as the air cleared, consigning herself to the darkness as she usually did. The girls were old enough to reconcile themselves, though. They could fight, they thrilled themselves in violence.

“Daughters.” Alcina was clearly struggling to level her tone. Her eyes were still fading away from the golden that they turned when she was annoyed... or excited. “I am glad you girls are safe. The man-thing is... displaced for the time being. However, I expect he will be back as a thorn in our side ere long, and I expect he will be harsher.”

Her gaze snapped from the girls to you, who would ordinarily wait in excitement.

“Go, you three. Keep hunting him. I want him broken. Never mind what I have been instructed.”

Bela, Cassandra and Daniela almost immediately fluttered away to whatever recesses they occupied when ordered. Then it was just you and your wife—the Countess who had to take a breath before gliding merely an inch away from you.

You were daunted. You stepped back at first and pressed Rose harder against your chest. You hadn’t meant to—you’d panicked and you were still anxious—but the hurt was clear in Alcina’s eyes.

“Do not fear me,” she said. She was agitated. Her voice was stressed. “Please.”

She had perhaps only said ‘please’ once or twice in all the decades. So your fear relented, and you melted back into your rightful place—against her large body.

“Draga mea, concubină mea,” Alcina breathed with raw adoration, having to kneel to meet even a fraction of your height. One of her hands dwarfed your head, easily. She placed both to your cheeks, cupping your face, pressing her forehead to yours with closed eyes. You copied her, the surprising warmth of her skin like a safety blanket when she touched you. And when she had a moment of reprieve, finally, she kissed your lips chastely.

“He didn’t hurt me...” you answered the unsaid question. He hadn’t, but he had grabbed the babe from your arms and unsuccessfully tried to wrestle her away, thus Rose’s distress. “He wants her. I can’t give her up, Alcina. S-she...”

“No.” Alcina’s word was firm. “You shan’t give her up. I promised you a child, you and I, and this is her. She was never his. I made it so for you.”

She looked down hurriedly at Rose, whose chubby face was stained with tear tracks. Her tiny hand was rubbing at her eye but she had seemingly soothed a great deal, her head tilted towards you.

“See, she seeks your comfort. She has forgotten... him.” Alcina hissed even the mere implication of the man through her teeth. “I will never submit.”

For a few beats, you regarded her. She had been your lover through so many eras, but she still reduced you to the young peasant girl you had once been, dying in the dirt, before she lifted you up and saved you with the gift. She had lived so much longer than you, seen and devoured so many, and yet she chose you as her equal in perpetuity.

“Hold me. Hold us.”

Alcina needed no further instruction. Her long arms wrapped very easily around you in your entirety, encasing Rose too in the embrace. It grew an uncomfortable position quickly, so she guided you to move to her lap when she sat in one of her favoured armchairs of this room. There, you were once again small and naive and her protege, looking to her for guidance.

You had known for some time there was something far more frightful beneath Alcina’s surface, something untouchable and something you were once unsure you would see. But the situation with the man-thing was spiralling out of control, and whatever secret was in Alcina’s skin was broiling steadily.

Still, when you met her gaze, you felt her love. Her kind loved deeper than what you had been born as. They loved for so long, so fiercely and primally loyal—bound physically as well as emotionally to each other. Since she had marked you the bond between you both had never faltered. It was in your very blood, and you were in hers.

“I won’t let him continue,” Alcina said, quietly. More to herself, you assumed. You kissed the corner of her mouth and she looked at you with gratitude. Then, hungrily, she took your chin between her fingers and opened your mouth up to hers, kissing you more resolutely. “Sângele din sângele meu.”

“In vecii vecilor,” you said, dutifully.

Rose quieted between you and her eyes had drooped closed. Whatever beast raged inside Alcina had retreated for the time being.

Another one, however, still stalked the bowels of your home.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 #re8 spoilers #resident evil village

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3100 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

gif credit: @benbarnxs

Part 16

You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.

As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-

“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”

Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.

***

It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”

“And Adam’s body-”

“Will be disposed of.”

“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”

“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”

With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.

“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”

“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”

“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.

He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”

You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”

“I always am around you.”

His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”

Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.

You smiled. “It is my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.

Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.

Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.

You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.

An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.

You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.

Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.

Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”

He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”

“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”

“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”

You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”

“Can’t really do that.”

“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”

“I’ve had a rough week.”

You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Move in with me.”

Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.

“That’s not funny, Billy.”

Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”

“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”

“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”

“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”

“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”

“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”

“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”

“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”

You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”

You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”

“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”

You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.

You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”

Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.

***

Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.

After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.

“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”

“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”

“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.

You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”

Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”

“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”

He nodded his head. “I won’t.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”

“I need to kill that voice.”

You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”

“It took you that long to believe it?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”

He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”

“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.

He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“

“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”

“Not once have I lectured you naked.”

He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.

A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.

He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”

The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.

Part 17

A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #a woman scorned

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Daddy's Home

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 3,388 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Anal sex, Spit kink, Come sharing, Breeding kink, Dirty talk, Aftercare, This is legitimately so filthy Summary: Aaron has been out of town for ten days, and when he finally gets home, you’re both desperate to make up for lost time. *Requested by @arsonhotchner Link to A03 or read below! Aaron has been out of town for ten days. Ten. Days. It’s misery.

You’re usually completely understanding when he has to take a case, because his job is important, and you know you have his undivided attention when he returns. You don’t have children, you’re fine staying by yourself, so most of the time it’s a minor inconvenience—ruined plans here, a postponed date night there—and nothing too pressing. And the sex is always great when he gets back.

This time, it’s different. Three back-to-back cases and a delayed flight later, and he’s finally on his way home. You’ve spoken every night since he left, and he has sounded increasingly more tired, more worn out; you can’t wait to be in his arms, warm and content in bed.

Before that, though, you both have other needs that will have to be met, because you mutually decided not to masturbate while he was gone, and you’re both feeling very... pent up.

Usually, you’d tease him while he was away, texting and sending pictures, maybe a video, all in good fun, but this isn’t the time for sexy texts or teasing or lingerie. You are both desperate, aching for each other, wild with need physically and emotionally; his touch anchors you, your touch anchors him, and right now you are both lost at sea, bobbing offshore, so close but so far away.

He will be home within the hour, so you do what any good girl would do: take a hot bath, prepare your holes, lay down a blanket in front of the door, and kneel on it and wait for Aaron to come home.

You exist to serve him, to please him, to be used by him, to make him feel good—and because making you feel good makes him feel good, you receive everything you give back tenfold. That’s the part most people don’t understand, but you and Aaron are on the same wavelength, always; you know he will need this, and he knows you will need this, and he knows you will be ready for him.

When he opens the door, sees you waiting, pretty and perfect and bare, he exhales, and all the tension leaves his body in a wave of relief. He sets his bags down, takes off his shoes, and then gets down on the blanket with you, presses one very controlled kiss to your mouth.

“Baby girl.” His voice is rough with everything he’s not saying, and you nod, press your forehead against his, because you feel it too.

“Daddy. I want to give you whatever you need,” you tell him, your breath on his lips. “I’m ready for anything, please tell me how I can serve you, daddy.” He swallows hard at your admission, knows exactly what you mean.

“Ready for anything, sweet girl? Turn over and let me see.” You obey—of course you do—and lay flat on your stomach so he can see that you’re wearing your plug properly. It’s not cutesy, just simple black silicone with a ring at the end that he can slip his finger into when it’s time to pull it out; he doesn’t put his finger through it now, just palms your ass, spreads it a little, and admires your handiwork. “Good girl, getting your ass ready for daddy. Do you want me to fuck it?” he asks, leaning in to brush your hair away from your ear. His voice gives you goosebumps, chills.

“I want you to do whatever will please you, daddy.” It’s the right thing to say, and it earns you a slightly harder kiss when he turns you on your back.

“That’s right, sweetheart, you do. Kind, loving girl. You want to please daddy with your body. It’s your purpose.” You lick your lips, and you can feel your eyes getting heavy already.

“Yes, daddy, it’s my purpose. Which hole would you like to fill, daddy?”

“First,” he says, and you wait for more, but it doesn’t come. You furrow your brow, confused, and he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead. “Which hole would I like to fill first.” He guides you to sit up, then puts his strong arms around you, lifts you up and carries you to bed, sets you on the edge. “Tonight, angel, daddy is going to breed you full of come to make up for the last ten days I’ve been away. I’m going to fill your pretty mouth, and then your sweet pussy, and then your tight ass, until I’m leaking out of you. If I’m not done coming by that point, I’ll just keep fucking it into you anyway.”

You whimper. You can’t imagine you’ll be coherent for all of that, but it makes your pussy ache and throb when you think about it. He’s going to be so good to you.

“On your knees, baby.” You slide off the bed, sink to them, and he points to the wall closest to you, the one with the full-length mirror against it. “Over there, back against the wall.” You crawl where he wants you, kneel and wait, and he makes his way over, pulls the mirror up beside you so you’d have to turn your head to look at it.

He unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and pushes them down; you open your mouth, because you always open your mouth when presented with daddy’s cock, and then he puts his hands gently on your head and just says watch.

It’s hard to watch without being able to move your head, and you can’t move your head because he’s slowly pumping into your mouth, but you make sure to keep your eyes on the mirror as best you can. Daddy will understand, as long as you try.

“Oh, fuck. So good for me, sweet girl, watching yourself be used by daddy—does it feel good?”

You press your hands hard against his thighs and moan around his length as it strokes over your tongue, the best you can do when he’s inching his way toward the back of your throat; he knows what you want to say, though, how good it feels to be filled, how you know you’re special because you’re the only person in the world Aaron feels this comfortable with, the only one he’s ever shown this side of himself to.

“Yes, baby. I’m going to come fast, since I’ve been without you for so long; we’ll take a break, and cuddle, and when I’m hard again I’ll come in your pussy. You’re going to be filled up soon, bred full of me, full of babies and come. You earned it, waiting so patiently for me to get home, waiting by the door open and ready.” He moves faster, but less deep, caresses your cheeks to feel the way they hollow and then bulge while he fucks your mouth.

When he comes, you both moan, sounds of pleasure and contentment; you don’t swallow right away, hold his come in your mouth instead, and when he pulls out you lose a little, dribbling down your chin, mixed with spit and clinging to your skin. Aaron gets down on one knee, swipes a thumb over it and licks it away.

“Perfect, messy girl. You can swallow for daddy in one second, but first I want you to open up and show me.” It’s an easy request, one you expected; when he sees your mouth full of him, he groans, exhales, takes your face in his hands and tips your head back so you swallow it. “Good girl. We’ll have to find other ways to keep your mouth full throughout the night; I’ll think of something.”

He helps you to your feet, slides the mirror against the wall, and lays you back on the bed while he takes off the rest of his clothes; watching him undress is soothing, when you’re so worked up, the slip and slide of fabric over his skin. He climbs on top of you, solid and warm, and wraps his arms around you, tips you both so you’re laying on your sides.

“I missed you so, so much.” You breathe against his lips, hands skimming up the length of his back. “Being without you for that long is torture.” He smiles softly, kisses your mouth.

“Unfortunately, I was responsible for stopping some actual torture, but I agree. It was extremely difficult, and I’d be happy to never do that again.” He kisses you some more, soft and sensual slides of tongue, brings his hand between your thighs and teases you where you’re slick and hot. “Not going to stop touching you for the next three days, okay?”

“Perfect,” you sigh, curling your leg over his hip to give him more room, and he presses two fingers inside you, moves his other broad palm to your ass and squeezes.

“Such a good girl, soft and wet for me. I can’t wait to sink inside you, fill you up so deep, come right in your womb.” You grip his hair tightly, get close for kisses, panting, and he thrusts his fingers more quickly inside you, then moves the hand on your ass to wiggle the plug a little.

“Oh, fuck. Daddy please.” It’s impossible to say what feels better; when you’ve gone without him, without an orgasm, for ten days, every sensation is so heightened. Your whole body is alight with pleasure. “Please can I come, please make me come.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ll make you come. Daddy will take care of you; don’t I always?” He gets his arm around your waist, urges you to scoot up a bit, then moves his hand to the plug again, slowly removes it, replaces it with two fingers.

The sounds you make while he fucks you with both hands are a breathless combination of whimpers and moans; your body doesn’t know how to react, wants to press against both. You wrap your arms around his back, digging your nails into his skin, and he constantly alternates between shushing you and kissing you until you come trembling against his hands.

“Mmm, god, daddy.” You nuzzle against his throat, his cheek, delighting in the scrape of his five o’clock shadow against your face, and he whispers your name, presses his lips to your shoulder. When you reach a hand down, he is hard against his stomach, and you pull back to look into his eyes. “What next, daddy?”

“Hmm. Think I want you with your ass up high while I pound into your pussy; it’s so wet for me now, I can’t resist.” He slides his fingers out, presses the plug back into your ass, moves away from you so you can get into the position he wants; he reaches forward for a pillow and puts it under your head with a caress, and you wrap your arms around it, get comfortable. It probably won’t take long for him to spill inside you, but your eyes are heavy, and you’re hot all over, and you just want to lay still and be used. Luckily for you, that’s exactly what he’s looking for.

You’re at the foot of the bed, hips up high, feet sticking out over the edge, and Aaron comes up to stand behind you, puts his hands on your ass, and thrusts fully inside.

“Yes, baby, good baby girl. You feel so good. Won’t be long before I come, and you’ll be sloppy for me, leaking. You have to try to keep it inside for me, I’ll help you; if you want to be full of my babies, you’ll have to keep it inside.”

His body is hard against your ass as he slams in again and again, filling you just right, making your toes curl; you moan into your pillow, clutch it tightly as he praises you, endless compliments about your pretty, wet pussy and how good your ass feels in his hands.

“Thank you, daddy, I’m happy it-it pleases you, daddy.” He moves faster, digs his fingers into your flesh, humps his hips hard, and you whine, moan his name, start bucking your hips back. “Oh, please, please, breed me, daddy. Fill me with babies, so close, daddy.” He groans, takes one hand off of you and hooks his finger around the plug again, pulls it out just to lean in and spit on your hole. It shouldn’t be that sexy, but it makes your eyes roll back with pleasure, and you abandon your pillow to get your hands underneath you, on your breasts, squeezing roughly while he fucks you and rubs the pad of his thumb through his saliva.

“That’s it, baby, come for me. My perfect slut, getting all of her holes filled by daddy tonight. Come on this cock, baby girl, for daddy.” You don’t need to be told twice, as he slams into you so hard your ass shakes, as he presses a finger into you where you’re slick with his spit, and you come just before he does, loud and frantic. You like to think it’s his name on your lips that brings him over the edge, and he presses forward, his body flush against yours, and fills you with his come.

You are a panting, sweating mess after that, and he is, too. He pulls out carefully, rolls you onto your back, and grabs another pillow, puts it under you so your hips are tilted up. He climbs up between your legs, lays on your body, and you don’t even mind how hot his skin feels, you just want to touch him, stay covered by him.

“Oh, love you daddy,” you murmur, and you drape your hands over him; it’s all you have the energy for. He kisses your cheek, your neck, soft and slow.

“I love you, sweet girl. You can rest a moment. Do you want anything? Water or a blanket or a snack?”

“Hmm, no, I’m okay for now… Except my mouth is empty, daddy,” you say with a pout, and he kisses it, then presses two fingers into your mouth to open it up.

“Good girl, that’s right. I promised I’d think of something; stay still.” He moves down your body, kissing gentle and wet as he goes, and then he ducks between your thighs and licks your opening, curls his tongue inside. You groan, not just at the feeling, but at the implication: a mix of both of your come, from your pussy to his mouth, on the way up to yours—it’s a wonder you don’t pass out.

He kisses you, sloppy and deep, his tongue slipping against yours so you can taste everything, then adds some spit for good measure; there’s no shortage of it, they way you’re kissing, and when he pulls back you sink against the pillows, too tired to hold your head up.

He rests his head between your breasts, listens to your heartbeat and runs his hand up and down your body; it’s warm and comfortable, and you’d drift to sleep, you almost do, but you remember there’s one thing left, and you make a soft sound in your throat. Aaron peers up at you, touches your face, and you press against his palm.

“Ready for more, daddy. Are you?” You lick your lips and he shifts up onto his knees—yes, he’s ready, cock hard and thick for you—and he gets his hands under your hips, pulls you closer, eases the plug out.

You prepared yourself well, but will need more lube for him to fit comfortably, and he climbs off the bed and reaches for it on the bedside table where you left it. He leans in for a few warm kisses, then gets back on his knees on the bed, works a few thick, wet fingers into you, then slicks up his cock and presses that slowly inside.

“Oh god, hmm, yeah.” It feels good, but so snug, and he pumps easy and shallow so you can get used to having him there. He rubs a thumb gently over your wet, spent pussy, lovingly between the lips, and you reach down to hold yourself open, to make it a little easier on you both.

“Perfect, angel. So tight for me; it barely fits, but we make it work, don’t we, sweetheart?” You nibble your bottom lip, nod, breathe, because being tense only makes it worse and it feels so good when you let it. “I’m the only one who’s ever been here, aren’t I? I’m the only one you’ve ever given this to.”

“Yes, daddy. Only you,” you sigh, and he starts moving a little quicker, a little deeper; it just feels good now, his cock so big and hard inside you, tight like you’re made for each other. He rubs your pussy with purpose, now your opening and your clit, and you know you’re looking up at him with such sappy, sweet affection in your eyes because he’s looking at you with everything you feel mirrored back in his.

“Going to fill you up; never going to leave you like that again, if I can help it.” You hum, smile, move into his thrusts just a little.

“Yes, daddy. Missed you too much.” Your mouth falls open in a moan when he fucks his hips hard against yours, your breasts jumping with each full, deep thrust, and then the moans become constant, each time he’s completely inside you. It’s like a switch is flipped, and you go from sweet baby to desperate, feral slut in an instant. “Oh, come in me, daddy. Want you to fill me up, breed my body. Claim my ass, daddy, ruin me for everyone but you.”

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, thrusts faster, rubs your pussy harder, and you throw your head back and moan, your chest heaving. “I’ll breed your ass—no babies this way, but when you come you’ll still be full of me, and when your little pussy flutters it will just sink deeper, sweetheart. Your belly will swell for daddy, and you’ll be owned by daddy—even more than you are now. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, god, yes daddy. Fuck me, daddy, breed me daddy, please.”

He’s getting close, it’s clear, and he pulls your body flush against his, one hand wrapped around your thigh, and pounds harder inside you, checks your face to make sure that’s okay; it’s so okay, and you nod because you know he likes the reassurance he’s not being too rough when you do this.

“Feels good, want your come, daddy. Want you to come in my ass and spit in my mouth—I’m begging, daddy, begging.”

You fuck hard against him, so desperate, dig your nails into his thighs and climax, and he follows, holding you tight and coming hot inside you. He fucks you through it, and you can feel his come pushed back and forth by the head of his dick; it’s delicious, maddening, and you don’t stop shaking for a long time, until he’s pulling out and lifting your body and holding you in his arms.

“Good girl, sweet girl, all used up by daddy, filled up with daddy,” he murmurs, rubbing your back and gently kissing your lips. Your head sags, your body drained of energy, but he tilts it up and gets you to open your mouth, licks at your tongue, pooling saliva on his while you moan, soft and wrecked into the kiss. You swallow hard when he pulls back, your eyelids fluttering, and he lays you down on the bed, brushes your hair back out of your face. “What do you need, baby? Bath or shower? Blanket, food, cuddles?”

You hum, because it all sounds good, but ultimately murmur, “shower, please, and then food and cuddles on the couch.”

He is so good to you, as always, cleaning you up, washing and conditioning your hair, letting you lean against him, sleepy and boneless, while he does all the work. He orders from your favorite restaurant, then gets you into a pair of his sweats, and you cuddle on the couch with a movie until the food comes; you don’t watch it, just lay on top of him, warm and content in his arms.

If Aaron ever has to leave town for ten days again, you’re booking a flight and hunting down that goddamn unsub yourself. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #prompt #request

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coffeecatsandcandles · 3 years

Text

𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧

➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and Bucky reflect on your failed marriage.

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | exhusband!Bucky Barnes x f!reader (ft. two unnamed Barnes daughters)

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.3k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | ANGST, mention of sex, divorce, mention of arguing, loneliness, birth mention, mention of a little blood.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

It was mid-October, a rather windy day, but that didn’t stop your daughters from wanting to go to the park. It was about to be Bucky’s time with them, and he agreed that the park would be the spot you’d meet to drop the girls off with him.

You two had barely talked since the divorce. Nothing longer than a few sentences. The guilt ate you up, you knew he was taking it hard, but you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. Your marriage was done for, whether you liked it or not. Months of barely talking to each other, rearranging schedules, and broken promises. He was never home; he was always on a mission, whether he was just out of town or completely out of the country. He was putting your lives in danger with his work, you both knew that. But he always vowed to keep you and the girls safe. But that wouldn’t ease the stress of wondering if someone would just show up one day to get their revenge on something Bucky had been brainwashed into doing years ago. He told you he’d rather die than have that happen, but it never truly made you feel any more comfortable.

You weren’t exactly perfect either. You were slacking as a wife and you knew it. You were just so caught up in your work and raising your children that you barely had time for Bucky anymore. He’d stay up for you, even though you told him not to, because he wanted to see you when you got home. But when you did, you were always too tired to talk. Too tired to eat. Too emotionally and physically drained to do anything but sleep.

It was you who decided that separation was the best option. Bucky barely spoke to you after you told him. He was cold. Distant. He slept on the couch downstairs, insisting you had the bed that was once shared between the two of you. Knowing you didn’t have the stress of whether or not you were being a good wife helped you tremendously. You were taking better care of yourself, better care of your girls. You both saw it. Bucky moved out after agreeing that splitting up was the best thing to do. It was against his wishes and not at all what he wanted, but if it made you happy, he’d do it, no questions asked.

It had been ten months since your divorce was finalized. Bucky had his own house now, close enough so that it wasn’t out of the way for you or too far away from the girls’ school. You co-parented and had the girls swap houses every two weeks. It was a routine at this point.

Once you parked the car, your daughters were already running to the swing set, hoping to grab the last two available swings before any other child did. You got out and spotted Bucky a few yards away, sitting alone on a bench. You walked over, knowing you were now forced to make conversation.

“Hey,” Bucky said as he saw you. He’d cut his hair since the last time you saw him. He was also cleanshaven. He looked exactly like how he did on your wedding day.

“Are you nervous? You know if you want to make a run for it, there’s still time.” Sam said, linking your arm with his.

“Honestly, I’m not.” You said, surprised. Maybe it was the glass of wine you had an hour ago, but you were more than ready for Bucky to become your husband. You’d been anxiously waiting for this day for years, and it was finally here.

“Nerves of steel. I don’t know why I expected anything less.” Sam laughed as he walked with you. With your parents no longer in the picture, you asked Sam to walk you down the aisle. The two of you made it to the end of the aisle, just a few yards away from where Bucky and Rhodey were waiting for you. This wasn’t at all how either of you pictured it. You remembered Bucky wanting Steve, Tony, and Natasha there. But they were gone. Sacrificed their lives so you could have this moment. And you honestly felt a little guilty. Who were you to be so happy? You looked to your right. Pepper sat with Morgan as her child gushed over your dress. Clint, Laura and their children sat watching you and Sam make your way towards Bucky. Bucky. He didn’t have his best friend at his wedding.

You wanted to feel happy, but in all honesty, all you felt was guilt.

“Hi,” you said, sitting next to your ex-husband. The wind made your hands freezing, so you tucked them into your jacket sleeves.

“How were the girls?” Bucky said, trying to make small talk.

“They were fine. Rowdier than usual.”

“That might be Sam’s fault. Sorry.” Bucky let out a chuckle at the memory of Uncle Sam play fighting with the girls two weeks earlier. They loved play fighting with him because he always let them win. You hadn’t seen Sam in months.

You laughed lightly, “It’s okay.”

This didn’t feel right. You felt like strangers.

“Do you think they’ve been adjusting well? To all this, I mean.” You said bluntly. It had been a question that’d been on your mind for months now. Your daughters were five and eight years old. Too young to understand divorce but old enough to understand how much their lives changed from it, and how if you weren’t civil with Bucky, they’d remember it forever.

“I think so,” Bucky said, “I haven’t noticed anything… irregular.” There was a beat of silence after you nodded. “You know, you worry too much.” Bucky said. You could tell he didn’t mean it in a mean way, he was more concerned for you than anything.

“It’s kind of my job to worry.” You said, “Besides, we all know what happens when you’re the one worrying.”

Bucky laughed, “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Buck, my contractions are twenty minutes apart, we have plenty of time.” You said, trying to grab your frantic husband’s arm to calm him down. Though you were in an intense amount of pain, you couldn’t show it. Not when Bucky was like this.

Bucky had been up and down the stairs, packing the car with your bags since the minute you went into labor. The doctors told you it could happen at any moment, you just didn’t expect it to be right now.

“Just deep breaths, honey, you can get through it.” He encouraged you, grabbing onto your hand and leading you to the car faster than you could walk. He helped buckle you in, placed a kiss on your covered bump, and made his way to the other side of the car. “Let’s have a baby.” He said, leaning in to kiss you.

You were terrified. You had never done anything like this before. Nothing this intense. But you couldn’t show any of it right now, not when he was like this.

Eighteen and a half hours later, your first baby was cradled in your arms as you fed her.

“You’re incredible.” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your lips, then your daughter’s head, “How the hell did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You lightly laughed, looking at your daughter’s precious face.

“I love you both so much.” He said.

“We love you,” you said, “but I think this one is full.” You gestured towards your newborn, who had unlatched.

“I’ll get you a burp cloth,” he said, heading over to the overnight bag you’d spent an entire day packing and preparing.

You closed your eyes, breathing in and savoring the moment. You felt so powerful after going through all those hours of labor and pain. Though you were still shaking from the labor pains, when you saw your baby’s face, all of it was worth it. And you were so happy to be sharing that moment, stepping into this new, exciting experience with Bucky.

“Oh shit,” Bucky said, taking you out of your moment, “Oh god. Oh no.”

Your heart started pounding. “What? What’s wrong?”

Bucky took the duffle bag that was identical to yours and pulled out electronics and equipment from the lab of the Avengers compound. “I grabbed the wrong bag.” He admitted, obviously embarrassed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, grateful that the hospital would supply you with what you needed for the day. “It’s okay. Just call Sam, this is exactly why I gave him our house key.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure my duffle bag had a pink tag on it.” You said, putting your hands up in defense. This felt better. The mood was better, more playful. You were friends.

There was another moment of silence, both of you scanning the playground for your daughters. Your youngest was running to her sister, a big smile plastered on her face before she tripped over her own feet, falling on the pavement and seemingly hurting herself. It all happened so quickly, but both you and Bucky were on your feet and heading towards her, almost instinctively.

“Oh, sweetie,” you said, watching your daughter focus on her deep breaths to keep herself from crying. It was something both you and Bucky had taught her at a young age. It didn’t help the tantrums like you thought it would, but in moments like this, you were grateful she wasn’t screaming in pain. You turned to Bucky, “I have a first-aid kit in my car, can you grab it?” He nodded as you handed him your keys and he made his way to your car. “Oh, my baby girl, are you okay?” you said in your most comforting tone. Your five-year-old took one look at her bloodied knee as you pulled up her pant leg and the tears started flowing. She buried her face in your shirt, muffling her pained sobs. It was only a scrape, but you knew it was a lot of pain for a child to handle.

Bucky returned a few moments later, first-aid kit in hand, and his heart breaking at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He always hated seeing his babies hurt. He scooped up your daughter in his arms, carrying her back to the bench where he and you were originally sat. You grabbed a bandage and medicine to clean the wound, and right away your daughter began to panic.

Her nose was sniffly from crying, and knowing the medicine would sting, she jerked her leg away from you. “Hold on, it’s okay. Mom’s gonna take care of you.” Bucky said, hoping to calm her down, “You wanna hold my hand?” he asked, offering his vibranium hand. Your daughter shyly nodded, and Bucky adjusted the two of them to where she was sat in his lap, holding his hand, while you sat beside them.

They always went to Bucky for comfort, so much so that it annoyed you. You could never be the one to calm them down after a tantrum or help them go back to sleep after having a nightmare. It always had to be him, and he loved every minute of it. He loved every part about being a dad.

Bucky had fallen asleep with two-year-old daughter in his arms for the fifth time that week. You weren’t sure what it was that annoyed you about it. Maybe it was because you were used to having him in bed with you. Maybe it was because you felt like he was straying away, and this was just another sign of him wanting time away from you.

“Buck…” you said, gently shaking him awake. “Come back to bed.”

Bucky slowly opened his eyes and looked down at his toddler, who was fast asleep as well. “Sorry,” he said, “she’s just so perfect.”

You couldn’t even remember the last time he said that about you. He used to say it all the time, how grateful he was that you were in his life and how perfect you were in his eyes. You’d gotten used to it, and now it wasn’t happening as much. Since your first baby, and now with this second, every compliment was reserved for them. You admired his relationship with your children, truly, but it made you feel less than. Every time he asked to reschedule a night you had planned for just the two of you to do something for your daughters, every time he stayed up with them instead of with you, it felt like a dagger in your chest. Hell, you couldn’t even remember the last time he kissed you.

Maybe it was just a rough patch. Maybe you could fix this.

You watched as Bucky set your daughter back in her bed, rubbing his tired eyes and giving her a gentle kiss on her head. Before the two of you got the chance to leave the room, you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a long, passionate kiss. It was almost desperate, like you wanted him to know you were still fighting for him. He didn’t get the chance to kiss you back before you suggestively snaked your hands under his shirt, hoping that the two of you would just make love and all would be forgiven.

“Not tonight, love.” He whispered, trying not to wake your daughter, “I’m really tired.”

You couldn’t even suppress your eyeroll and exasperated sigh as you made your way back to your bedroom, with Bucky not far behind.

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t even remember the last time we had sex, Buck. I just want to fix whatever this thing is between us. It’s exhausting trying to keep this alive.”

“What are you talking about? I thought we were okay.”

“Buck, you hardly spend any time with me anymore. And I know it’s all spent with the girls and you have no idea how grateful I am that you’re so active in their lives, but Jesus, I feel like you’re slipping away from me.”

Bucky was truly at a loss for words. He didn’t even think he’d been acting any different with you. He still loved you endlessly, and as he thought about it, he realized that you were right. He had been spending more time with the girls than with you.

He tried to make it better as time passed. He got up extra early to spend time with you, the two of you made breakfast together every morning, he even tried setting up a date night where he took the girls over to Sam’s for the night. But nothing changed. The two of you stayed in for the date night, and it was spent arguing. You told him how you didn’t feel appreciated and how you felt like he didn’t love you. It was hard for him to hear, especially because there was never a moment where he stopped loving you. Even when the arguing and crying died down and you came to the agreement to separate, his heart was still in your hands.

“There we go,” you said, putting the band-aid on your daughter’s knee, “you feel better?”

She shyly nodded, still sniffling, “I wanna go home.” She said quietly.

“Okay, I’ll go get your sister.” Bucky said, getting up and searching for your eldest child. He found her in a couple of minutes, and soon enough the three of them were heading to his car. “Hold on, hold on, go say goodbye to your mom.” He said. The girls had grown accustomed to this, saying goodbye every two weeks to one parent and moving between houses. You kneeled down to their level, your daughters soon engulfing you with their hugs, then they went off to Bucky’s car and he strapped them into their seats.

Bucky wanted to say so much more to you. How even still, he was madly in love with you and everything you did. Even when you told him you wanted to separate, he did it because he knew it was what was best for you. He wondered if he’d every get anyone to love him the way you did, or if he’d ever fall as deeply in love with another person as he did with you. He wanted to let you know that he didn’t think he’d ever find someone like you again, and that though it killed him to be without you, the thing that kept him going was that you were okay.

You were okay without him. It killed him and kept him going at the same time.

He wanted to be the one to protect you, to love you and to be your safety. You would never have to feel alone, sleep alone, or even get rid of a bug in the house because you had him. Serving you, loving you, being your partner, he believed that was his purpose. Not fighting, not learning how to live his life without the only person who could possibly understand what he’d gone through, Steve, not to adjust to the new decade. You were his purpose. And you were completely fine without him.

The days without the girls were the longest. He’d spend them wandering Brooklyn, looking for something to do instead of sulking alone. But the nights were the worst part. He’d toss and turn, unable to sleep in an empty bed. Your laugh would echo in his mind, the imagined noise keeping him awake, and after a few weeks, his nightmares started to come back. His body, his mind, they were used to having you there to comfort him. Maybe that was your breaking point, maybe you couldn’t handle how much he needed you anymore. You’d told him it was because he was distant, and he couldn’t help but agree. He’d grown more distant, but it was all to keep you and the girls safe.

“Bye Mama!” your youngest waved to you as Bucky finished buckling her in, seemingly forgetting all about her hurt knee. Your oldest waved goodbye to you as well, clutching onto a doll she’d left in Bucky’s car the last time they were with him. You knew that because she’d grown upset, crying because she’d forgotten it at the beginning of your two weeks, and you were too nervous to call Bucky to get him to drop it off. You didn’t want to make conversation with him just yet, worried he was upset with you.

You waved goodbye to your daughters as Bucky started the car, giving you a quick wave before driving off. Now alone, you weren’t sure what to do with your time. Your house was empty, your daughters’ laughs and voices while playing no longer filling the air. Bucky even had a cat now to keep him company, and the girls adored that the most about their dad’s house. You didn’t have an animal for them. You could just stay home and drink your sorrows away for the next two weeks, but you knew that wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Instead, you sat back down on the bench, watching the other children play.

You tried to ignore the sight of some of the children’s parents kissing each other, completely and utterly happy with the lives they were leading and had made for themselves. It just made you feel more alone. That was you once. In love, watching your children play happily with your husband holding your hand or kissing your lips. You knew what that felt like, and you gave it up. In the long run, you knew it was for the best. You had been better since you ended things. But you couldn’t help but want that again, that perfect relationship. One that wasn’t exhausting, that wasn’t built on guilt and worries. One that could be saved if you’d ever gotten to that point.

But you had to face reality. Bucky was in your life forever, but you would both spend it wishing things could’ve been different.

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cinnamonest · 3 years

Text

//some horrendous gaslighting

I love my stranger-to-noncon very much but I don't give enough attention to consensual relationships taking a turn for the worse, or utterly toxic and abusive boyfriends and Kaeya is the perfect candidate for that so here we go.

-----

I've mentioned before the Kaeya would be exceptionally violent in comparison to other yanderes, but it's important to note that he's also among the most emotionally sensitive, and those two things do not go together well.

Not sensitive outwardly, of course, he's spent years developing that personality of his as a defense mechanism, can easily pretend he doesn't care about anything, but deep down that abandonment complex and those insecurities are strong and easily triggered. Some of the ways it manifests are mild, like how he gets overly attached to you within a week of knowing you, commits and tries to move way too fast even in completely mutual and consensual relationships. The kind of guy that suggests moving in together a week into the relationship, and dropping I love you so early on that you're left to merely blink in surprise because you barely know each other, but under the pressure and awkwardness you find yourself stuttering out a reciprocation, even though it's quite untrue. Guilt-trips and pressures his way into fucking you within a couple of days.

He's a very different person behind closed doors, it comes out maybe a month in when he lets the walls drop and lets himself trust you. He's more vulnerable, sweeter. Oddly... Eager to trust. It's like he desperately wants someone he can latch onto and show some vulnerability around and chose you to be that someone.

But also different in other ways. More... Bitter. More grumpy. More immature.

He's not sensitive in general, he doesn't really care about what most people say or do, but that sensitivity comes out once he's attached to a person, which happens rather quickly. You start noticing it rather quickly in a mutual relationship, and it likely shocks you honestly that he's so... immature. You spend the day with one of your friends -- just one, catch up with them, haven't seen them in a while... and when you get home things are rather quiet. He's usually a very talkative person, so you can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe something bad happened, but he insists no, it's fine. There's nothing wrong. And then you catch the last part, much quieter, spoken under his breath in that lighthearted tone he speaks in, yet with a bitterness to it.

You wouldn't care anyway, you're too busy with your friends.

It takes you by surprise at first because holy shit, really? It seems so petulant that it can't possibly be real, but... Maybe he really did have a bad day and is just getting his anger out by directing it at the first thing he can. That's not right, but hey, everyone has weak moments where they do some bad things. Besides, you weren't there for him, so he feels worse right? Still, you spent every day the past month except this one day with him... No, it's just poor timing, that's all.

Until it happens again. And again. And he swears he likes your friends, smiles at them, but it... Looks forced. Always complaining that you spend so much time with them and completely ignore him. Do you even care? Do you value the relationship at all? You try to not get angry and be rational, but still defend yourself because you spend almost all of your time with him don't you? You can't get much out before he just huffs and stomps away, rolls his eyes (well, you assume he rolls both of them, you can't tell but-- nevermind, not the point) and gives you a cold shoulder. Until you apologize, then it's like the switch has flipped back on, there's love and smiles and warmth and hugs again.

It starts to get on your nerves. You start to wonder if maybe this isn't healthy for you, if maybe you should end things, but you decide to give him another chance, right? We all make mistakes. He's under a lot of stress. Just... It'll be fine.

And the first time it gets physical he swears it's an accident. It leaves an ugly scar. You're going out because come on, it's my family, I haven't seen them in forever.

It just happens, he explains, it's unintentional, emotions get channeled through the vision like that. Comforts you as you sit on the ground crying and clutching your arm that he grabbed as you walked out the door, skin darkened and purplish from the freeze that's seared through a layer of your skin. He sighs and says he's sorry, really, he feels horrible already, so don't get mad, ok? He already feels terrible enough... Don't be mean. He didn't mean it. Don't be mean. Don't be fucking mean about it, stop fucking crying. You're making him feel worse.

He seems genuinely sorry, you tell yourself. It's not his fault. You can't blame him. It's ok.

It's harder to excuse the next time it gets physical. Maybe freezing last time was unintentional, and maybe it hurt, but you weren't terrified like this. A hand around your throat is different.

But can you blame him? You were threatening to leave. Honestly, you weren't approaching it healthily, you weren't trying to actually have a serious talk, you were trying to guilt him and gaslight him and it's honestly emotionally abusive, you know? You're the one in the wrong here. How selfish and cruel. How can you do that and not even feel guilty?

It makes you rethink. It makes you question your own sanity. And it makes you apologize. Makes you say you didn't mean it. You find yourself feeling dizzy, disoriented, like everything isn't real and everything is too much. You try to sleep it off.

And he doesn't like delving into the past. He tries to avoid it. Tries to not think about it. Doesn't even really tell you anything until nearly a year in, a drunken confession of sadness and misery. It makes you feel guilty somehow. Poor thing. He's been through a lot, you tell yourself. Maybe you should be more patient and understanding, help him work through it. You can fix him, per se, can't you? Sure, people say that never works, but... He just needs love, really, it's not like he's that bad.

He hates bringing it up like this even more. It just feels weak and vulnerable but it comes out anyway. You're threatening him again, and honestly, that's a sickening thing to do considering what you know, how can you be so vicious?

You're just like everyone else, aren't you?

You're just going to abandon him like this was nothing. You don't care at all. You're heartless. Ungrateful. He's done so much for you. And this is how you repay him, huh? Disappointing, honestly. He thought you were special. Kind. Understanding. Didn't realize you were just as cruel as everyone else in his life, aren't you?

He just has this way of making you doubt yourself. You pull at your hair and cry. I'm going insane. You keep the thought to yourself, but you fall to your knees and promise you're really sorry this time. He sighs. Fine, he'll give you another chance. He's a patient man. You just need to work on yourself, become a less toxic person.

But apparently that's not enough, and eventually you get dumped.

It comes as a surprise. But he says he's had enough of you being so emotionally manipulative and neglectful. You hardly ever spend time with him (like, only 29 days a month? Unbelievable!). You cry and try to make him feel bad, when the things he does aren't that bad. You always claim to be too tired to fuck. You try to gaslight him into thinking all that's acceptable. It's toxic and abusive, so, he's done.

You find yourself in shock. Confusion. It feels unreal. The first thing you worry about is if you can even find a new boyfriend... Your body is completely littered in freeze-burn scars by now, after all.

Were you really in the wrong? You're not too experienced in relationships, maybe he's right about everything he said... Maybe you really did him wrong...

Which is why you come crawling back. Crying. Apologizing.

Exactly as planned.

So he sighs and agrees. Fine. You can have another chance.

The second time, the third time, he always forgives you and takes you back. Even though you don't deserve it. He just loves you so much, you know? He keeps forgiving you.

Until one day you don't show up.

When you leave that time, you seem almost angry. You don't cry this time. Your hands ball into fists and for once, for the first time, as you storm out, you say--

Fine.

Unusual, but you were always moody like that. Odd choice of words. No matter, it's not like you're actually fine with it, you'll come crawling back any minute now.

It's already been several hours. Why aren't you at his doorstep already? Did he make you feel that bad? Maybe he went too far... You're probably just at home crying or something. You'll come back by tomorrow morning.

You don't.

Ok. Maybe you feel too guilty. Maybe you're reflecting on how awful you've been. That would take some time to get over, since you've done so many bad things. It won't be long before you come back.

A day passes. Two days pass.

What's taking you so long?

He finally swallows his pride. Maybe you're being stubborn. Trying to make him feel bad. Yeah, that's something you'd do. Or maybe you're trying to make him feel all alone, take advantage of the one thing you know bothers him. How mean. But he loves you. You know that. So you'll appreciate it when he checks on you, apologizes for maybe going too far, and he really loves you, he loves you so much, so how about you two just go home and forget this ever happened and have lots and lots of makeup sex and cuddle? And then you can tell him you're sorry and love him too and promise to stay forever? He's already got the speech practiced a few times in his head walking over to your place, the one you haven't really lived in for a while now since he demanded you basically move in with him. All your clothes and stuff are at his place now. You would have taken that with you if you ever actually intended to leave, so clearly this is a ploy to get him to come to you, as if that wasn't already obvious.

Your eyes narrow when you open the door and your face contorts with anger. And you snarl that you've had enough. He wants you gone so much, fine, you're more than happy to oblige, you say. You're done. You don't even need your shit, keep it, you'd rather lose your stuff than set foot in that place again. You finally came to your senses and you're fucking done.

You say nasty things. You say he made your life a living hell and you're happy to be rid of him.

And then you say something worse. Something that sets something deep inside off. Something that feels like a stab to the gut.

You say if you'd known the truth about him you would have kicked him out a long time ago.

Maybe it's not about the same thing. Not meant the same way. But it feels too familiar nonetheless.

You see him freeze up. He just stands still for a moment. Not saying anything. Face blank and empty. His eye twitches.

You couldn't care less. Besides, you already have a new boyfriend, one that's nice to you, you tell him with a prideful spite in your voice. One that doesn't have fucking issues. You're not a therapist, you say, and you tell him to figure out his problems on his own, and you slam the door in his face.

Or, you try to. He catches the door before it can close with one hand. Grabs your arm with the other.

For once he doesn't say anything, not until you make him. Just grabs you, drags you down the street by your shirt. It nearly chokes you, but you manage to start to scream. He slams your back into the nearest building, grabs your shoulders and says to shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arms. You go wide eyed and scared tears run down you're face. You're scaring me, you plead. Let me go.

But he doesn't. You figure maybe you can talk sense into him when you get there. You don't realize how far gone he is, you don't think that this might be the last time you set foot outside, the last time you see the sun not through a window. You don't think any of the things you'll wish you had down the road.

You've had rough sex before. Not quite like this, though. You can't breathe. You kick and wheeze and cry and claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for what little air you can get in. He only lets go when you black out, lets you take a few breaths, then does it again. You're still so tight. New boyfriend must not have measured up, huh. It's raw and dry and it hurts. You whimper and you cry and you finally apologize like you should have days ago.

And yet, most importantly, you cum. See? You love him. So say it. Say it already. Come on. You do, you stutter, it's quiet and scared, but he smiles nonetheless.

It's ok. He knows you're sorry. He knows you didn't mean those awful things you said. You would never actually abandon him. You're different. Different. Special. Not like everyone else. You won't leave. You won't just leave him somewhere and disappear, you won't die out of nowhere, you won't kick him aside and leave him alone, you're the only person who won't. Different. That's why he loves you so much. You would never do any of that.

You just need help. You're so emotional, you're really not emotionally stable. Controlled by your wildly changing emotions. They make you say things you don't mean. Do things you don't really intend to do. Things you'll just regret if he didn't intervene and help you.

They make you vulnerable to other people. You're so easily controlled. You believe what they want you to believe. And that's dangerous. That could lead you to try to leave again. That's why you have to be helped. Kept away from becoming victim to your own impulses. The only way to do that is keeping you locked away. You'll come to understand with time. Appreciate it. Thank him.

You'll appreciate it because you're different. You'll never leave. You would never leave him even if you had the opportunity.

But maybe it's for the best that you don't have that opportunity to begin with.

#scheduled post #yan.txt #.ky

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blissfulparker · 3 years

Text

Driving First class→T.H

Parings: mechanic!tom x reader

Summary: A bitter fight with your now ex has you taking your car instead of a train for a business trip. Although out of your pettiness and anger, your car breaks down and you are left in the middle of nowhere but luckily Tom sees your distress and the man who works on the car is your best rescue. But he works on you other ways both Physically and emotionally

Warnings: Dom!tom, sub!reader, degrading(only slightly), sex on top of a car, squirting, oral, unprotected sex (this is fictional please use protection!), orgasm denial, power struggle, Tom being scared of women for two seconds

Word count: 5.5k

A/n: yeah so idk why I got so horny all the sudden and wrote this. Tbh...I like this version of tom, whatever this is I kinda like it. Let me know what you guys think, if you want to see more or less but I present to you: the first full fic I’ve written in months!(also I know barely anything about cars so I’m sorry if it’s cringy😭)

“Fuck! Shit! Dammit! Fuck! Fuck!” You scream. Hitting your hands against the steering wheel. Such a stupid idea with a stupid end result how could you not expect it?

Taking a car instead of a plane or a train across the country to avoid your ex on a business trip. Thinking you were being more bold and brave, proving you never needed him in the first place when now you sit stranded out in the middle of nowhere with a smoking engine and only hours until sunset and you’re sweating your ass off in a suit. A suit, who the hell wears a suit on a road trip?

Your Phone only having one bar and giving you 20%, you’re doomed. Doomed to be stranded out here and either killed by a maniac or killed by a bear. If London even had bears you would be killed by one. Wanting to cry and scream and maybe a train seat next to your ex who cheated was a better option than crying in your grandpa’s old Chevy that you thought was a better idea than the Tesla or the BMW. Anything would’ve been a better idea than this one but for once you couldn’t let go of the fiery side to you and just got in a car with your middle finger to your ex thinking you were so much better than a first class seat with expensive champagne.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You say to yourself. Your hands run over your face. As dramatic as you can be you think you feel the end coming. The smoke from the engine never dies down and the sun is getting hotter and hotter. No more bubble gum pop plays from the radio but instead the sound of birds chirping and your paranoia of a bear eating you eats at your ears. You think maybe you should’ve sent that drunk ‘I miss you’ text to your ex back two nights ago when you were drunk to maybe just feel his dick once more and get on a stupid train with him but now you are—

“Miss?” A knock at your window causes you to jump. Screaming as you are met with the face of a man and grabbing your pepper spray from the keys and pointing. Even though the window was rolled up you still point and he backs up with his hands up.

“What the fuck!” You scream as you lower the pepper spray. You don’t know when, don’t know how, but now pulled in front of you was a black SUV that was in much better shape than your car. A man who wore a tight white shirt and had sweet chocolate brown curls stood with a scared look on his face.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve seen your smoke some while back and...and you were slumped over your steering wheel and needed to make sure I didn’t need to call police.” He explained very rushed. You place your hand over your heart, calming yourself as you reached to roll down your window so you can properly talk to him. A harmless boy who was probably on his way home.

“I’m fine.” You almost groan as you put your pepper spray back down. Running your hands over your face once again. Tom takes in how nice you look, black suit and neatly painted nails, you looked expensive so what was such an expensive girl like you doing in such a dirty old car like this?

“You got smoke coming from your car, you don’t look fine miss.” He looks at the cloud that still comes from your car. He has a worried look. You hate that you make the assumption of him being a man so he will know how to fix it but at the same time he was an Angel sent from Heaven,

“The engine blew out...at least I think…” you trail off. Honestly you didn’t know anymore, The last time you worked with a car was when you were 15 and before your grandpa died. The only person who truly taught you about cars now seemed to be reincarnated into the Greek god in front of you.

“Mind if I take a look?” He asked and you nodded as you popped the hood.

Stepping out of your car you join the boy in the front. Taller than him in the heels you wore having him look up at you as if you were the Angel sent down in the moment.

He doesn’t hesitate to dig his fingers into your car. Feeling the overheated engine and you watched as his eyes went in shock and his sigh. You were fucked. Utterly fucked and no, it wasn’t by some hot guy on a plane like you wished in the moment.

“She’s busted.” He looked at you. You almost want to roll your eyes and go ‘thanks’ as if you already didn’t know that. “I might be able to fix her up, gotta take her back to the shop and see what I can do but other than that she’s no good for a ride.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at you again.

“You mean it’s like broken broken down?” You start to panic even more. Ruining the BMW was far more worth it than the ‘57 Chevy you drove. No one made a car like this anymore and you adored it. Every chip of paint, every dent, each faded seat you loved as your own.

“I can see what I can do.” He shrugged. He starts to walk to his car, opening the trunk to hook your busted vehicle up to his and drag it back to where he just came from. As he starts to hook up your car you only just stare, watching as he does his work. He rubs his now oily hands on his pant leg before he looks up at you.

“You wanna hop in the front?” He asked and you started walking to your car and he let out a laugh. “No I meant my car, Angel.”

The random man that pulls over on the side of the road, has you pointing your pepper spray one moment ago now has you acting like a idiot as he was so pretty and a gift sent just for you.

“Right,” you walk around to the passengers seat. “Sorry.” You cleared your throat as you sat and waited in silence. Waiting for him to come around and when he does he doesn’t say anything but just starts up the car.

“You’re not going to kill me are you?” You looked over to him who has a goofy grin on his face.

“No sweetheart.” He shakes his head and you sigh in relief. As if he would even tell you that he was going to kill you. “You’re not going to kill me are you? With that spray you’ve got?” He teased and you shook your head.

“No, and sorry, I was just panicked and you are—“ you started but he lets a low laugh that you find so attractive.

“No I get it, you’re fine.” He stared back at the road. You were so use to the city, the tall building and the blinding lights you never really got to see the beauty of London outside of it. The gorgeous countryside you never knew existed actually did. But the countryside only lasted for so long before you were in a town filled with some of the cutest shops and was like a small city. So cute and so tiny.

“You wear heels on a road trip?” He broke the silence again and this time you’re looking at the four inch shoes.

“I-well-“ you looked and sounded like a proper idiot. You worked for one of London’s best businesses and now you were stumbling over your words, “well...yes? I’m on a business trip.” You admit and he looks back at the busted vehicle.

“I don’t know what business you work for but them sending you in a—“ he starts and you shake your head.

“No, no, that is mine. I thought—I didn’t want to go on a train and—it’s just complicated. A complicated stupid mess.” You tell him and he tilts his head as if he was agreeing.

“Well, I’ll see how well I can get you out of the complicated stupid mess.” He flashed a smile before he turned into what looked like a garage. A large garage that was filled with cars of all types, from new to old there were cars that had looked like they had been worked on for days as Tom pulled his car up and turned it off.

“We have some water in the front if you need some and there's a bathroom in the back. Make yourself a home, I'll get started.” and so for once, instead of just staring at him as if he was a piece of art hanging in the louvre, you search for the bathroom and the water he was talking about.

Leaving him to pop back open your hood, you walk into the bathroom and run cold water over your face. Feeling yourself relax at the feeling of finally getting the heat from the sun out of your face. Facing yourself in the mirror, you stare long and hard at yourself. The dimly lit bathroom, the achy feeling in your feet from being so stupid and wearing heels, the fact you broke down in god know what part of london but now you are in a mechanic shop and you are letting some random person fix up your beloved car.

“Should’ve just gotten on the train.” you groan as you take a paper towel and dry your face. Reaching for the door and walking back out to the garage where tom was now in a white tank top that was stained black all over, he had a towel over his shoulder as he worked at your car. You try to swallow the lump in your throat as you are completely mesmerized by the man in front of you.

Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train.

“Fuck!” Tom almost hits his head on the hood of the car as he sees you. You think he had curly hair at the start, now he had hair that kind of stuck to his forehead from the heat and sweat of your car. His hands are covered in black oils and he wipes them on the towel. “You scared me.” he lets out a breath as if he held it in and you take a seat at the stool next to the table filled with tools as he walks over to it.

“Sorry,” you say as you look at the car and try not to make it obvious you want to fuck him right now. A complete stranger that picked you up, you want to fuck. What if he did want to kill you? What if he had a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Or a family of kids? What if-

“You hear me?” he was closer to you than ever and you felt your whole body go weak.

“I'm so sorry,” you shake your head. “What did you say?’

He lets out that stupid pretty laugh of his again as he puts tools back in the tool box. Cleaning up the mess he just made he repeats himself.

“I said, your car is so old that they don't make the part I need to fix her up anymore. Luckily I know a guy who has the part but it will take a few days to come in. the engine is completely busted and i think if i go a year up in model I can put it in just right. But for now she needs to cool off. She’s not gonna be able to drive for a while.” he gives you almost a pout and you slouch your shoulders.

“So I'm screwed?” your brows raised and he gave you a pressed lipped look.

“Im sorry angel, I got a spare room at my place or there is a bed and breakfast up the road I can drop you off at but for now there is nothing I can do.” he says and you sigh. Maybe you want to cry, scream, throw something but Tom notices it all at once as he watches your head drop.

Tom grew up around boys. His whole life was wrestling with his brothers and working on cars. He never dealt with girls crying. Even when he had girlfriends they typically left when they were crying but now he has a crying girl right under his roof after he worked on her car. It did take everything in him to not ask why she used the old thing but he knew a lot more was happening than just a beat down old car.

“I'm sorry. I should thank you, not cry.” you sniffled as you looked up at him who was on his knees crouched down for you. Face to face, he had a concerned look.

“I have a feeling that car isn't why you’re crying.” he didn't know how to play therapist and mechanic but tonight he would.

“I was so stupid not to just get on the train. God, I would have already been there by now and all because I didnt want to sit next to my stupid cheating ex who I thought I was so much better than if I just got in this old thing and drove there myself.” you wipe your eyes and he hands you a tissue but you shake your head.

“He sounds like a shit guy.” He spoke and you nodded.

“He is, but he was the only one that gave a shit about me and now I'm here like an idiot. Well, not an idiot...no, yeah. An idiot. You're really nice and sweet though so thank you.” you try and give him a smile and he stands up.

“Get up.” he groans a bit as he stretches his legs. “C’mon sweets, get up. I’m not going to let you cry over a guy who treated you like shit. You drink?” he asked and you nodded. “I have some beer in the fridge, you already had a shit day let's not cry about it.”

You don't know if you wanted to throw the wrench at him or if you needed him to say that. Either way he sets an ice cold beer in front of you and pops open the top for you.

Probably making more money than everyone in this town, you never thought you would plop down on a nearly broken bar stool in the middle of a car mechanic shop and drink away your feelings with a random man you just met today. You didnt even know his name, nor did he know yours but he listened to everything you had to say about your ex boyfriend who was probably fucking some model right now while you for once felt like you didnt have to play pretend nice in front of someone. How you don't know what god above sent this man in front of you but he did and he listened to each of your problems, nodding and not saying anything back as he just listened to everything.

“I used to work on cars too.” you look over at the cars and he raises his brows.you had finally stopped crying so much, realizing what was happening and where you were but you felt like a weight was taken off your shoulders when you told him everything. Not even your best friend could make you feel like that.

“Penthouse princess used to work on cars?” he teased and you only nudged his shoulder.

“Wow, penthouse princess?” you repeat back to him with a playful smile and he nods.

“Never got your name and you live in a penthouse and act like a princess.” he takes a sip of his beer and you finally extend your hand to meet his.

“(y/n).” you shook his dirty one but wow were his hands thick. You could feel each callous and feel each crooked finger. Your mind went to dirty places and you think maybe he caught on as he watched your legs cross over themselves as you shook his hand.

“Tom.” his thumb swiped over yours as he shook your hand. The feeling made you swallow hard and him smirk just a bit for himself. Before you could get too comfy you walked over to a truck that already had its hood popped open. You stumble a bit in your heels and the uneven ground and Tom is quick to follow you to make sure you don't hurt yourself.

“That's the engine.” you point. And he nods, his hand is on his hips as he watches you point and explain. “That's the brake pad, that's where you put in the oil…” you trail on and Tom nods as you get everything correct.

“Very good, darling.” he nods impressed and you look over at him with a smirk.

“What? No penthouse princess?” you're close to him. You didn't realize how close he was to you before you turned around and are almost chest to chest with him.

“Mmh, you have a preference?” he teased and you look down at your feet. You're still taller than him, but you think even without the heels on you would be either taller or the same height as him. You were always told that you were the one in control, always the one in demand which seemed to be a complaint by your ex.

“Mmh,” you lean in close enough to where your chest is gently pressed against his. “I'm not sure yet.” you let your hand go to the strap of his tank top, its dirty with oil before you let your hands go down and touch the muscle. Feeling just how strong he was, he was pretty tanned too. He was both toned and tanned as he watched your hands trail down to the bottom of his shirt.

His hands rested on your waist. Holding you tight in place and maybe in the moment he was the shorter on but he was always in control. Always.

“You seem so indecisive, do you want to drive or get on a train? Get back with a man or stay away? You don't even know where you want to sleep at night but you still act like you're so in control.” he almost mocks, giving you the same pout you had throughout the entire night and it shocked you.

“I know what I want.” you nearly snarl back and he clicks his tongue.

“Yeah?” he almost whispers as he leans in for your ear. “Prove it.”

You don't know when or how but his lips quickly land on yours. In a rough fight for dominance he has his hands wrapped around your thighs and has you picked up and laid down on one of the cars with a hood down. You don't realize it's your car with his hood down until you brace yourself on the hood. Stripping of your suit jacket and fiddling with your pants button but tom is already on it. He's down on his knees, undoing the straps of your shoes as he lets his hands go up and undo the buttons of your pants. Having you nearly completely naked in front of him, that's not exactly what he was going for as he picks you up from the hood as has you on your knees in front of him.

“Was so cute, you thought you were going to get exactly what you wanted.” his hand was dirty as it stroked your face but landed a grip on your chin. Pulling you in close, your head in between his thighs looking up at him with pleading eyes. You almost whimper, you were on your knees for a man you didn't know and you were almost whimpering.

“Dont act stupid.” he nearly spit at you as he leaned back. Your hands are going to unzip his pants but he stops you. Forcing you to rest your hands on his thighs as he pulls himself out of his pants. You swallowed hard as he was bigger than you had expected--far bigger than your ex as you felt like your mouth was watering as he used his thumb to stroke over the tip.

“Stick your tongue out.” he told you. You gladly stuck your tongue out with your mouth wide and ready to take him. He had one grip on your jaw and the other guiding his cock into your mouth. You start to suck but that's not what he wanted. He held your jaw in place as he thrusted up into you.

“Thats a good girl,” he hissed as he used your mouth as if it was his own personal toy. You reached to stroke what couldnt fit in your mouth and he let out an airy laugh. “What a little whore you are.” he shook his head. “So desperate, is this not enough for you? Sucking on my cock not enough for you?” he taunted you and you only moan—or at least try to moan and he laughs.

“What was that darling? I can't seem to hear you?” he teased and you only whined more with your mouth around him. You play a game with yourself where you think you can make him cum like this. Making him cum this early would mean that you always were more incharge from the start. But you barely know him, you don't know how long he can last.

“Get up.” he pulls your head off of him. His cock still hard as it fell onto his stomach and you were drooling with his precum. Your eyes don't even look up at him you look at the redness of his cock, how you want more of it and maybe you were the whore like he said.

“Look at me,” he pulled you up, now face to face with him. His hand that was free slips in between thighs, teasing as he gets closer and closer to your core and he clicks his tongue again. “Such a dirty girl, don't even want to look at me, say thank you, you just look at my cock wanting more. You want more?” he strokes your cheek and you nod. “What was that? A moment ago I thought I was talking to one of the richest girls in London but now I feel like I'm talking to just some whore--” he starts to talk but your lips are already on his. You straddle his hips. Extremely unsturdy but he quickly picks you up and flips you over. As much as he'd loved to see what you look like on top of him. Tits bouncing for him and trying to hold on, here was not the best place. He would get a better view later, he just knew it.

For now he flips you over on your stomach. You're pressed up against the car as he wraps his hand around your waist and uses his fingers for a bit.

“So fucking tight.” he slides in slowly at first. Making you gasp and him hiss. “That other boy fuck you like this?” he asked but you were too busy trying to feel more of him. His hand comes down to your ass and in shock you yelp. “I asked you a question, don't say you don't know manners either.'' He was close to your ear and you shook your head no.

“No!” you nearly cry out as he pushes into you. Completely filling you up. You feel tears perk at the corner of your eyes for how desperately you needed him. You even push back on him and he lets out a soft laugh. “H-he's never fucked me like this, god tom please move!” you cry out. His hands come to your waist and he clicks his tongue again.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he teased as he pulled himself fully out and pushed himself fully back in. you cry out, not caring who heard you, you cried out as he fucked into you like you two were the last people on earth.

“Fuck youre so tight.” he threw his head back as he held on to your hips. You felt yourself give up under him. There was no use in you trying to take control anymore when he did this to you. Had you dumbed down just for his dick.

“I need to cum tom.” you cry out. You try and open your eyes to look back at him who has created a rhythm for your body. His head is thrown back and he shakes his head.

“No.” was all he said and you nearly cry more. “Not yet.” was all he said as he went faster.

“Please, please, please.” you begged between a mixture of moans and cries. Reaching back to hold his hands but he quickly moved them to wrap around your waist and touch your clit. Using his thumb to rub gentle circles you nearly

“So cute when you whine like that.” he chuckled. You felt him twitch, knowing he was close too, you clenched your walls around him. You could barely hear his gasp but you have your cheek pushed up against the hood of your car that got you here in the first place.

“Fuck,” he struglld to moan out. “C-Cum for me.” he sped up and your whole body went numb. You swear you pass out for a moment as all you hear are his moans and the sudden feeling of him stopping.

Both heavy breathing you slowly move yourself to get up, at least turn yourself around so you can face a clearly stunned tom. His mouth open just a bit and his eyes are wide.

“Y-you squirted.” he tells you and suddenly you go from feeling like the sexiest person alive to feeling your body heat up in full embarrassment.

“I-i'm so sorry i-i didn't know-” you start to stammer as you reach for your shirt to clean him up but he shakes his head still trying to catch his breath.

“No, It was hot.” he says as his shock turns into a small smirk, cocky that he was able to do that. “Fuck, have you ever done that before?” he asked.

Your cheeks heated up, even though he couldn't see the clear embarrassment you nodded. One time, years ago when you were by yourself. You hadn't touched yourself in over a month and it was just the highest setting of your vibe and the hottest porn star you could find that had done it to you. Never ever had an actual man been able to make you do that. Hell, you were lucky if your ex even made you cum.

“O-Once, once but I was by myself.” you swallowed hard, you could already see the smirk on his face as he knew he was so much better than anyone you had ever had. He didn't even know your ex partners but if he could get you to do that the first time he fucked you then even you knew you didn't need anyone else.

He uses his clean shirt to clean you up. Helping you slip back on your underwear and making sure that you could still walk--you barely could. He helps you into his car. Letting you cool down a bit before he drove out of the garage, driving down the road and it was only about a minute until you arrived at the cutest house you had ever seen.

He lifted you out and brought you inside, passing you clothes that were far better to sleep in than a suit and your completely ruined underwear, you found yourself getting comfy under his bedsheets.

“So im guessing im not going to the bed and breakfast for the night?” you nuzzled into the sheets that smelt of ocean spray and cedarwood. This man was some sort of god, you swore on it.

“Hmm, no. unless you still want to.” he slides under the sheets himself. His hands dont touch you but you gladly lean in and wrap your arms around him. He at first stills, stiffens his whole body before he relaxes for you. He didn't even know what he was thinking. First he helps the pretty girl he worried was dead on the side of the road and now he has her in his bed after having one of the best orgasms of his life.

“No,” you hum against his chest. “If you don't mind.” but it wasn't a question. This time you take control over the situation and fall quickly asleep in his arms. He only lays there, waiting for you to find yourself fully asleep.

Fuck that stupid train, fuck your stupid ex, and fuck him.

Dark roast and sizzling eggs fill your nose. You wake up with puffy eyes, from crying last night embarrassingly in Tom's arms you look down and see you're only in a random stained tee and your underwear. In a way,you thought you hit your head hard enough on the steering wheel that all of this was a dream but it was real. You lay in a grey sheeted bed and hear the sound of music come from the kitchen.

Ideally, if you got on the train, you would have woken up in a hotel with a view of the city and probably eat half of a bagel and drink rich coffee from the breakfast bar before being off to your first conference of the day. But you were instead naked in the bed of a man who was helping you fix your car.

You stumble out of the bed, your legs wobbly, feeling as if you did a hardcore work out you nearly wince. What the man did was something you swore was only in porn. You don't know what kind of magic fucked him over while he works on cars but his fingers were skilled.

“Woah, woah,” Tom came over to you. Plaid boxers and no shirt, you think you died and went to heaven. Your car exploded and you died and went to heaven and if this is what it was then you were perfectly okay with that. “You okay?”

You nod, sitting at the island and only watching him. You knew you had to say a word soon but you didn't know what to say.

“Not so sure how you liked your eggs so I made them scrambled because that's personally how I like them but I can make them any other way you like-” he starts to go off and you only nod.

“No, I like scrambled.” When was the last time you had a breakfast like this? You grew up with servants and your parents are always gone. You never had a breakfast as simple as this.

He gave you a smile, you walked over to the coffee machine and poured coffee into the mug that was already out.

“Not sure if you were a coffee or tea type of person, if you-” before you could listen to his ramble again you shook your head.

“I like coffee. Coffee for the morning and tea typically in the evening.” you tell him and he gives a smile and a sweet nod.

“Me too.” was all he said before he remembered what was happening. “Hey, when do you have to be at that business trip? Or whatever it was?” you nearly spit out the coffee as he brings it up. You knew everything that was happening but honestly you were holding on to the concept you died and went to heaven but you had a conference in probably an hour and who the hell knows where you are.

“You know what,” your heart suddenly calms down. The panic subsides as you take another sip of that coffee. “Fuck them. They have waited for others before and they can wait for me. Fuck the trip, fuck the car and fuck my ex.” you felt good saying it. Tom slid you a plate of eggs and toast and you smiled.

“The car is still better than the train?” He remembers how all of this is about you and your ex fighting and you not wanting to sit on the train next to him.

With a smile, with everything that had happened within the past 24 hours, you pick up the plate and turn to tom.

“I don't think I should've taken the train.”

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ericspinkhair · 3 years

Text

dirty thoughts from a distance

pairing: dom!changmin x virgin!reader, best friends to lovers, college au!

synopsis: you masturbate while thinking of your best friend and he catches you moan out his name

word count: 3.8k

warnings: maybe slight angst, (getting caught) masturbating, mutual masturbation, sex in general ig

a/n: y'all are crazyy! it has barely been 19 days and I have already hit 100 followers🤧 thank you guys so much for your support and sending in requests!!! everytime I see leave me nice messages I feel so encouraged to keep on writing even though there is still a lot of room to improve and I am not always completely satisfied with what I create. I wish all of you a great day and hope that you stay happy and healthy!!

this chapter is especially dedicated to @bangcrispychannie and anon who requested this kind of scenario ❤️

masterlist + requests

for three years you wondered why you hadn't lost your virginity yet. it's not like you didn't have enough opportunities since you had been in two relationships so far, both lasted about five to seven months.

the feelings in your first relationship were been mostly one-sided however.

when a guy in your biology class named Minho confessed his crush for you, you thought that the only logical next step was to become a couple. you were quite flattered that he had taken such an interest in you and believed and hoped you would eventually develop feelings for him as well. the problem was you didn't. after not being able to be emotionally let alone physically intimate with him for a few months into your relationship, he finally confronted you and you confessed that you just couldn't bring yourself to see him that way. your relationship came to an end just before becoming a senior in high school.

in your last year, you got close with Seonghwa. you were seat neighbors in your english class and you'd chat all the time. he was perfectly sweet, smart and funny and you instantly got along just fine. you developed an interest in him and he seemed to feel the same way. he asked you out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and some chocolate and you agreed to being his girlfriend without much thought. you caught yourself falling in love with this boy and didn't shy away from physical affection such as kissing and holding hands. you were convinced you were ready to give yourself to him during prom night but when it came to it you chickened out. a couple of hours before, you had found out that your best friend changmin had broken up with his girlfriend of six months.

for a long time you hadn't been able to decipher why you hadn't slept with Seonghwa then. as time passed, the unpleasant answer became clearer and clearer: you had brought up your hopes.

you had been best friends with changmin basically since you started elementary school. on the first day, he scared you with a stupid horror mask he had sneaked in from home and made you cry. he felt so guilty and was determined to make it up to you and to become friends. you had been inseparable ever since.

when he got his first girlfriend in junior year you were devastated. you convinced yourself that the reason for that was that you had been scared he was going to replace you as his best friend but in reality you had felt jealousy.

you were suppressing your feelings because if you confessed, things might become awkward. there was no way changmin could ever like you the same way.

all of this became more difficult as you moved in together for college. you were sharing an apartment now and every day, it became harder to avoid your growing and troublesome feelings. your heart would beat faster whenever he walked around shirtless (which was most of the time) and you decided to try to ignore him. this was especially difficult since you wanted to appreciate his physique. when had he become this handsome? changmin had been dancing all his life so he had always been fit but now that he was majoring in it and training most of the time, his body had developed and he had become super toned and his abs were more prominent.

he'd often make his way into your dreams and you'd let him do inappropriate things with you. you'd wake up wet and needy and even more confused. you were ashamed of seeing him this way. this was not how one normally thought about their best friend.

it was a wednesday morning and you were eating breakfast when changmin joined you in the kitchen. he flashed you a big smile, making his pretty dimples appear which you didn't see as you did not look at him.

'good morning, y/n!' he greeted you in a good mood. you just grunted in response, intensely staring at the cereal swimming in your bowl.

the fact that you couldn't even spare him a glance hurt changmin but he tried to not let it show. he wanted to get you to talk to him.

'do you want to watch a movie and play some board games today after class?' he proposed. you hadn't spent a lot of time together ever since you had become aware of your feelings.

'I have an essay due tomorrow,' you quickly made up as an excuse. the corners of changmin's mouth twitched but you didn't notice as you were too preoccupied with doing anything that didn't include looking at him.

'then maybe on the weekend. or next-' 'I'll be busy,' you interjected. 'I have lots to do.' you stressed the lots to emphasize there was absolutely no way you would be able to hang out with him any time soon.

'umm… okay. I'll be going to class.' he told you dejected. your heart sank but you didn't respond. he was wondering whether he had done anything to make you upset but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. this had been going on for a while and he was starting to become desperate.

when you first got the apartment you spent every free minute of the day together, happy that you finally moved out and could be with each other 24/7, but then you stopped talking to him completely out of nowhere. from one day to the other, you would avoid leaving your room when he was outside and barely talked to him anymore. at first, changmin thought you were just stressed and that you'd eventually warm up again when exam season came to an end but a few months had passed and, if anything, the situation was even worse than before.

you were watching the time and after ten minutes you decided to leave for classes as well. you had started doing this so you couldn't possibly catch up to him and risk having a conversation.

'hey, y/n, what's up!' your friend chanhee hugged you when you arrived on campus. you were both majoring in fashion design and were getting along on well since the beginning of the first semester.

you sighed exasperatedly. 'changmin's up.' you puffed your cheeks and pouted. chanhee nodded knowingly. he was the only person who was aware of your little secret and that was only because you had accidentally drunk confessed the whole story to him at your first college party.

'you know maybe you should tell him. this whole thing is clearly not making you happy and I saw changmin walk by a few minutes ago. if I had to guess I'd say he was in an even worse mood than you. someone accidentally ran into him and he pushed them hard and called them names. it's not like him to overreact like this. he's usually super collected. I think you finally managed to break his spirit,' chanhee reported to you.

this had never been what you intended. why did everything have to be so difficult? you didn't want to be the cause of your best friend's unhappiness.

'he must feel like I despise him. but I cannot confess to him, that would be the end of our friendship!' you were constantly torn apart by this dilemma.

'well, if you're not gonna act on your feelings, maybe try to move on? find something casual or serious with someone new? then you'd forget all about changmin and you'd be able to go back to acting normal around him' he suggested.

chanhee's advice didn't sound too bad. if you couldn't get with changmin then you had to de-crush yourself and find somebody different to focus your emotional energy on. but on who?

'is there anyone you could think of?' you ask chanhee. he had great taste in practically everything so you highly valued his opinion.

'hmm, you could potentially try younghoon hyung? I've seen him eyeing you for weeks now and he even told me thinks your gorgeous.' he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

younghoon was a pretty art student, whom chanhee knew from high school. you didn't talk to him often, mostly at parties and he wasn't exactly your type but you tried to remember shouldn't judge him by his first impression when you haven't even got to know him.

chanhee pulled out his phone and soon you felt yours vibrate in your back pocket. you looked at him questioningly.

'I sent you his number in case you're interested,' he explained proudly. he put his hand on your shoulder and you could see the concern in his eyes. 'you really need to get over changmin if don't want to confess,' he insisted firmly.

so you decided to text younghoon during class. he was very polite and you thought he was cute as he seemed excited to talk to you. you agreed to hang out sometime to get to know each other and decided to meet up friday for dinner.

after the end of your classes, you walked home to warm up yesterday's leftovers. to your dismay, changmin had also decided to come home for once. since you began acting all weird and refused to eat with him, he usually spent lunch time with his dance mates as they had practice after anyway. why had he decided to come here today? your question was answered when he ran up to you, smiling from ear to ear and you noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

'you know how there is a blackpink concert downtown on friday? guess what!' he held up two tickets. surely you would at least agree to spend time with him if it meant being able to see your favorite group, right?

he must have gone through so much trouble to get tickets for you and since blackpink were your favorite music artists you were actually contemplating on going but then you remembered you had made plans.

'I can't. I'm going out with younghoon friday night.'

'kim younghoon?' he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

'why would you to be spending time together? I didn't know he was even talking to you,' he questioned you. anger was boiling inside of you.

'maybe it's because you don't know everything about me,' you snapped at him. you were aware that you were being harsh but somehow his words hurt you. why did he doubt you? did he think you weren't able to get with someone as awesome and popular as younghoon? did he not consider you pretty enough?

the microwave beeped, indicating your food was ready, making you snap out of your thoughts.

'y/n, I swear, that's not what I meant.' he stepped directly in front of you so you were forced to look at him. you stared deep into his pleading eyes as you closed the microwave door, turned your back to him, stomped to your room and slammed the door shut, leaving changmin behind in the kitchen.

your whole body was tense as you listened closely to any sounds coming from outside and felt relieved when you heard the front door close. feeling sad and depressed always made you feel tired so you decided to take a nap to forget about all the negative feelings.

when you woke up you were horny af. you had a dream about changmin taking you on the kitchen counter and now your panties were completely soaked with your arousal.

desperate, you pulled them down and tossed them somewhere to the side. it didn't matter. you needed relief now.

you closed your eyes as you slowly started rubbing your clit, imagining it was changmin's slender fingers touching you instead. your imagination was running wild and you sped up the tempo.

eventually, you plunged your middle finger and then your index finger inside you, pretending that changmin was stretching your walls with his cock.

you moaned loudly and picked up the pace, chasing your high. oh, how much you wished he was the one making you come.

'yes?' you opened your eyes and gasped loudly as you saw changmin watching you from the doorway. you hecticly pulled up your blankets to your chest to cover your naked lower body. for how fucking long had he been standing there?

'oh fuck, changmin...' you cursed out loud.

to your surpise he laughed. 'oh, is this why you have been so distant? were you embarrassed about imagining doing dirty things with me?' your cheeks were burning red and you were unable to move a muscle.

'you know, if you had told me you were thinking of me while doing it then I could've helped you out already. that would have spared both of us a lot of frustration.' he stepped into the room and pulled the sheets away, his hungry eyes fixed on your desperately dripping pussy. you tried to hide it with your hands.

'n-no… what are you saying? aren't we best friends? ' you couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. the way he was acting was so unexpected that you didn't know how to react or what to say. he brushed his hand over your burning cheeks. his eyes were conveying disparity.

'but what if I told you I don't care? that I like you? that I see you as more than just my best friend?'

'wait, you like me?' you couldn't believe your ears. was he actually reciprocating your feelings?

he groaned in exasperation. 'y/n, why did you think I ended things with my ex out of the blue?' you shrugged your shoulders as you weren't sure. you had thought it was because she had lost interest in him, at least that's what changmin had told you back then.

'because I realized I was in love you, you dumbass. how could I be together with someone if I had feelings for someone else?'

'I actually ruined my chances of having sex with seonghwa for the first time for the same reason. it was just after I had found out about the breakup,' you confessed, relieved that you were finally beginning to make sense of everything.

he climbed onto the mattress and positioned his knees next to your closed legs, leaning his hands on the wall behind you so that he was hovering above you.

'I'm sorry that you lost that opportunity. let me make it up to you,' he whispered with his face mere inches from yours and then kissed you. losing all self-restraint, you immediately pulled his body closer so that he was straddling you. after all these months filled with sexual frustration and just frustration in general, you were desperate for his touch. your hands wandered under his dance shirt and you were finally able to touch those abs you had been secretly admiring for so long.

you broke the kiss to take off both of your shirts and changmin skillfully unclasped your bra.

while his tongue was exploring the insides of your mouth, his hands were kneading your breasts, occasionally rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples. you felt his hard dick press against your lower abdomen as he grinded himself into you to get friction.

after having dreamt about this moment for so long, you felt impatient. this was too good to be true and you were scared that if you didn't act quick, your bubble would bust.

without thinking twice about it, you pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and boxers just far enough so you could easily reach inside and whip out his dick. you stopped for a moment to admire his length. it looked even better than you had ever imagined in any of your wildest dreams.

he sat upright, leaning on the wall behind you, while you stroked his cock. he was sensitive to your touch and not shy to show you how well you were doing by responding with moans.

'fuck, y/n. you're doing amazing.' his praise made you eager to show him just how good you could make him feel. your lack of experience was barely noticeable as the adrenaline flowing through your veins was guiding you.

you tapped his thighs to signalize him to inch closer. that way your mouth had easier access to his dick. you hesitantly licked up his length and were fascinated by how he tasted. wanting to have more of it, you swirl your tongue around his pink tip. changmin eventually became impatient and forced more of his dick inside your mouth so you tried to take as much of him as you could but your gag reflex made it difficult for you. instead, you worked your hands where your mouth couldn't do its job.

not wanting you to feel neglected, changmin reached behind him to stimulate your clit. he skillfully started rubbing all the right places and you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

he couldn't take this stimulation for much longer before he had to force himself to pull out of your mouth.

'wow, you almost made me come there.' he panted heavily. 'but I want to be inside you first.' you got lost in his touch as he placed a long kiss on your lips but a sudden thought brought you back to reality.

'wait, I don't have a condom,' you informed him embarrassed. you hadn't planned to lose your virginity any time soon so you hadn't bought any. did that mean the end of this wonderful dream?

but changmin laughed light heartedly. 'no need to worry. hold up, let me get some from my room.' you relaxed again as he disappeared and came back shortly with a condom wrapper in his hand.

you were prepared for him to start right away and took a deep breath in preparation but he didn't do anything.

'I don't think it's a good idea to start yet since I haven't even prepared you. the last thing I would want to do is hurt you so just lay back.'

he positioned your legs over his shoulders so your hips were hovering in the air. you felt his warm breath against your vagina before he drove his tongue inside you, seeing for himself how wet he had made you and tasting your arousal. you clasped your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.

'don't do that. I want to hear how good I make you feel,' changmin complained.

when he slid two fingers inside you, you couldn't hold it in anymore and let out some kind of aroused squeal. you felt self-conscious but it seemed like changmin was only more eager to please you.

at the same time, his tongue was abusing your swollen clit and it was impossible for you to hold back the curses that were spilling out of your mouth. the pleasure he was making you feel was a whole different sensation from anything else you've experienced before.

'more please, changmin!' you begged. you wanted more. you needed more. you needed him.

he carefully lowered your hips back down. 'are you sure you want this?' he asked you, waiting for you to clearly consent to having sex with him.

'I want you. you, and only you,' you reassured him and brought his face closer to kiss him. changmin's typical bright smile formed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

he positioned himself at your entrance, swiping his dick between your folds like a credit card to coat it with your juices.

you gripped his arms tightly as he pushed in. he slowly continued until all of him was buried deep inside you before stopping. the feeling of a whole penis inside of you was very different from your or changmin's fingers. it filled you up to the brim and was rubbing all the good spots. while it initially caused you a bit of discomfort, it wasn't overwhelming and it also felt good in a weird way.

when your walls finished adjusting to his length, he began to steadily move his dick in and out.

changmin intensely studied your face. he couldn't believe that after all those years you were finally close to being his. he wanted to savor every single expression you made while he was inside you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso, trying to push him deeper. he slammed his cock back inside you.

'you are mine,' he declared and started going harder and faster.

'I am yours,' you confirmed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

because of the extensive foreplay and your own masturbation prior to this, it didn't take long until your walls were tightening around his dick and you felt an orgasm approaching.

driven wild by you clenching around his cock, he thrusted into you even faster. you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other as both of you almost came simultaneously.

changmin kissed the top of your head before he pulled out and threw away the used condom. you opened your arms and he let himself fall right into your embrace.

'I know this might be kind of weird to talk about right now but do you want to be my girlfriend?' Changmin asked you. he still wasn't too sure what all of this meant for your relationship and he desperately needed to know where your mind was at.

'after having liked you for all this time I'd be an idiot to say no.' 'you're an idiot anyway,' he teased. you slapped his arm.

'hey! I'm not the one who ignored you for a couple of months because my hormones are out of control.' you hid your face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed face him.

'I'm really sorry for that. you just mean so much to me and I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship.' he stroked your hair.

'I do understand that. if I hadn't heard you moan my name today I wouldn't have acted on my feelings either. but all is good now, right?' 'right.' you smiled and placed a small kiss below his ear.

'there is still one thing you need to do,' changmin tried to remind you. you looked at him, puzzled.

'what do you mean?' 'younghoon,' he hinted. you immediately started looking for your phone. that date was definitely going to have to be cancelled. there was no need for you to find a distraction anymore since you had been granted your wish after all.

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