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pastanest · 3 months

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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: you’re used to me disappearing for months but I hope by now you can trust that I’ll always come back x

warnings: reader is a victim of misogyny (aren’t we all)

In A World Of Boys

Doctor Spencer Reid. His name alone sends your heart thrumming as the elevator ascends, your shoes tapping against the metal ground with excitement and impatience in equal measure. It isn’t unusual for a case to have called the team in at the crack of dawn, but that was not something you ever imagined you’d actively look forward to. Then again, you couldn’t have counted on the sunrise casting a soft pink, almost heavenly glow to illuminate the office that seemed to converge around one man in particular the moment you saw him.

He approaches you with a warm smile, one mug held to his lips and another held in an outstretched hand, for you. Made just the way you liked it; not that you ever verbalized such details, someone’s eidetic memory just thought to pay attention to how you prepared your hot drinks until it was a task that could be taken off your hands entirely.

“Good morning.” Spencer greets you, a playful lilt in his voice at just how early this morning is.

“Morning, and cheers.” You share a light chuckle as you clink your mugs together in a gesture of soft comradery, your gazes locking as you take a simultaneous sip.

Such a thing is officially a symbol of trust, but the look in Spencer’s eyes is enough to hold you still if the ground was ripped out from beneath you. His curls are a little disheveled, as always, and his tie is as crooked as ever. Ruggedly handsome would be an accurate description, if you didn’t know Spencer better than that, know him to be so much gentler than such a roughened description. And your heart sings for him.

A tradition you’ve come to appreciate amongst the BAU during longer flights is sharing stories of their shared pasts. The tales are typically hilarious at the expense of one team member or another, but it is all in jest, and as the newest member of the team, you love hearing about their funniest moments from before you had known the people who have welcomed you so openly.

“Oh, we have to talk about the pool incident! What was her name, Spence?” JJ asks with a mischievous glint in her eye, the team’s attention pulled entirely to Spencer.

You can’t withhold the shocked expression on your face, you’ve not heard of any previous romantic encounters in Spencer’s life; this should be interesting.

“It was Lila, wasn’t it? C’mon, Spence, it’s been years, you can tell us now!” JJ presses, the rest of the team egging her on, but you stay quiet, your interest piqued to the extent that you can’t utter a word.

“Lila was an admirably strong woman, but as much as I hate to disappoint, there’s really nothing more to tell.” Spencer shrugs, smile unreadable.

In his former years, such a question would have flustered him, but not anymore. His answer is enough to fluster you, however. A man who doesn’t kiss and tell, and is so quietly firm in such a resolve, is one to keep in mind.

As if to make matters worse, Spencer then rises from his seat on the jet and strolls past you, making the effort to lean away from you - in case any sudden turbulence should unsteady him, he won’t risk even nudging you - on his journey to the galley. And the way he walks, the delicate trail of his cologne lingering in his wake when he passes your seat, it’s dizzying.

This is a moment that you know you will never forget, and you can’t help envying the fact that Spencer can so effortlessly recall every moment spent with you in the depths of eidetic memory. It’s almost ritualistic, how you lie in bed every night and replay your most treasured moments with Spencer, to send yourself to a peaceful sleep in which you hope to dream of him. Part of you wonders if he ever replays moments with you in his mind, with more clarity than you can ever hope to possess.

Little do you know, you are his favorite film.

On nights when insomnia strikes, you are the guaranteed remedy. When it is for you, Spencer’s eidetic memory is nothing short of a gift. He has a library dedicated to you, containing every look in your eyes, every micro-expression, every variation of your laugh, your smile, every word you have ever said in his presence. Sometimes, it takes him hours to decide which memory of you he’ll replay before he allows himself to sleep.

Neither of you are aware of how many nights you have spent lying awake in the same hours, focussing on the very same memories. While you absentmindedly play with the little flower charm on the necklace that Spencer bought you for your birthday, his gaze will drift to the special edition of Frankenstein that you bought him, for no reason other than it made you think of him. Of course, Spencer already had a copy, but the one from you lives on his bedside table. He had the edition completely memorized in a matter of minutes, but he has devoted more time to rereading that book than he has any other, because you gifted it to him. Sometimes, Spencer traces the spine and wonders where you’d held it before gifting it to him; if that will be as close as he ever comes to the blessing of one day holding your hand.

One of your most vivid memories with Spencer - and one that you frequently use to fall asleep with a smile on your face - first came to be during your second week working with the team. You didn’t know Spencer very well then, but you knew enough to be besotted by him; you knew that from the moment his eyes first met yours. A case required an undercover mission centered around you, as the only member of the team to fit the unsub’s type. While you could have handled the mission on your own, Spencer insisted that he be placed undercover inside the club you were set to enter, posing as a member of the public, to ensure you had immediate backup if you needed it. The undercover mission itself went without a hitch, though Spencer spent the duration of it trying his very best not to crush the glass he pretended to nurse in his hand as he watched the unsub flirt with you mercilessly, and without an ounce of respect. When the unsub was arrested and dragged out of the bar, you and Spencer followed, and he went to one of the government-issued vehicles to grab his FBI jacket for you while advising you to stand in the doorway and wait. He didn’t want you getting cold in your pretty dress, but that was a detail he kept to himself.

As you stood in the doorway, leaning against a wall with your arms crossed over your chest, the wind caught the thigh-high slit in your dress, exposing the skin of your thigh only momentarily, but it was enough for some sleazy, drunk middle-aged man to leer out you.

“Sexy lady!” He had called out to you in a slurred voice, opening his arms to you, beer bottle in hand.

And, as every woman has learnt to do, you gave him your best, tight lipped, polite smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” You answered as evenly as you could.

In an instant, the sleaze’s smirk was gone, replaced with an almost disgusted frown.

“Stupid slut.” He muttered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, but in the time it took for your eyes to widen, Spencer had pinned the man’s hands behind his back and sent the beer bottle shattering on the ground - collateral damage from shoving the sleaze into the nearest wall.

“You are under arrest for drunk and disorderly behaviour, as well as sexual harassment, and absolutely any other charge I can find when I dig up every morsel of your existence.” Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, but they were sharper than any you’d ever heard, dripping with a venom you didn’t imagine he was capable of possessing then.

After tossing the drunk misogynist into the back of one of the police cars still on the scene from your undercover mission, Spencer walked over to you and draped his FBI jacket over your shoulders, tugging it around you with a gentleness that completely juxtaposed what you had just witnessed.

“I’m sorry.” He’d said quietly, warranting a confused frown from you, that urged him to elaborate. “I’m sorry that you were treated in such an abhorrent way, and that you had to see me like that.”

Your frown melted into an adoring smile. “Spencer, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. Thank you for defending me from a man that I doubt realizes he even did anything wrong. While he might be the scum of the earth, you-” You gently poked his chest through his shirt, “-are a gentleman.”

Spencer had thought then that his heart couldn’t possibly soar higher than that, but oh, how wrong he had been.

Coincidentally, one of Spencer’s favorite memories of you is one you can recall very little of. It was the only occasion on which Spencer had politely declined the team’s invitation to a local bar for drinks in an evening. He had been rereading the copy of Frankenstein you’d bought him, comfortably nestled on his couch with a lingering smile as he sought pieces of you in between the lines of text, when his phone rang.

Seeing your name, Spencer picked up in a microsecond.

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright?” His mind was immediately reeling. Had something happened? Were you safe?

A sniffle came through the phone, and his heart shattered.

“Jus’ so lonely.” Your voice was slurred by the alcohol you’d consumed, but in the sweetest way. Your words did little to ease the anxiety swirling in Spencer’s mind, because every time he had seen you drink, you had been the giggliest mess he’d ever known; you had never been the stereotypical sad-drunk, as far as he knew.

“Lonely? Aren’t you at the bar with the team?” He questioned, because he could hear other voices in the background of the call and alarm bells were ringing. Had the rest of the team left? Or, worse, had you drunkenly wandered off somewhere and gotten lost? He was already putting his shoes on and grabbing a jacket.

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” There was an urgency and an aching sadness to your words, Spencer could hear it even through the distortion of a phone call, and your words stumped him. He blinked once, then twice, before replying.

“Well, no, they aren’t me.”

He felt that had been an obvious distinction, but perhaps you needed him to make that clear in your drunken state.

An equally dramatic and exasperated sigh came through the phone. “I know that, and that’s why I’m sad. I miss you!”

Spencer was out of his apartment door in record time, racing down the stairs until he reached the parking lot beneath his building.

“You miss me? Really?” He had asked you because he wanted to hear you say it again, he had to, the smile on his face growing exponentially.

“Lots.” Your voice broke on that one word, and it was enough for Spencer to risk several speeding tickets to reach you in a time he would never, ever tell you, because you’d lecture him about road safety. Perhaps someday he will tell you, just to hear you speak to him for a prolonged period of time, even if it’s a lecture at the expense of his reckless adoration.

By the time Spencer arrived at the bar, you were a blubbering mess in Rossi’s arms. It was only when you were transferred to Spencer’s arms that your drunk mind registered his presence, and the sheer joy on your face despite your tears was something he knew would be his only remaining memory if he lost everything else in some freak accident. Amidst your incoherent mumblings of compliments and praises towards Spencer - each and every one under lock and key in his heart ever since - he carried you back to his car and drove you home with your body wrapped almost entirely around his arm from where you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Once at your house, he carried you to the door bridal style, lowering you temporarily so that you could clumsily unlock your front door, before he picked you back up again and carried you inside, all the way to your bed. And there, he laid you down, slipped your shoes off, tucked you into bed, and wiped your face with your skincare products efficiently, from what you’d told him of your nightly routine. He fetched you a glass of water and sat you up to drink the whole thing, then refilled it and set it on your bedside table - in case you woke up thirsty in the night, or if you needed it first thing in the morning. Lying you back down, he left a little kiss on your forehead, and due to your eyes being closed, he assumed you were already falling asleep, until you reached for his hand when he tried to go.

“Stay.” You pleaded in a barely-conscious and far-from-sober tone.

Spencer smiled at you like you were the stars in the sky.

“Alright.” He almost whispered, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, while you laid under your covers, practically curled around where he sat.

With one of his hands on your shoulder, Spencer sat with you, spelling out words you’d never register on the back of your shoulder blade with his thumb and index finger.

So beautiful.

Everything.

To be yours.

And as his thumb curved the last letter “s” on the back of your hand, Spencer heard your breathing settle to a rate that told him you were dreaming. Very slowly, he tucked you under the bedcovers, stood himself up, and left, but not before leaving you with a message he intended for you to comprehend later. You had not consented to Spencer staying the night with you, and you were in no position to give that consent in your state, but you had asked him to stay, so he stayed until you wouldn’t know that he’d gone.

The next morning, you awoke to a little note on your bedside table that simply said:

Good morning, angel. Please drink some water and let me know you survived drinking enough alcohol to fill the Hoover Dam (not literally, that’s not biologically possible).

-Spencer x

It was enough to make you laugh, and despite your immediate pounding headache, you reached for your phone.

You: hahaha, very funny. thank you so much for last night, I’m sorry for the mess ❤️

And, to your accustomed surprise, Spencer started typing back immediately.

Spencer: I’m glad that you survived to enjoy my joke. You are always welcome, and you have nothing to apologize for.

You went to set your phone down on your bedside table again, when it lit up with another text.

Spencer: ❤️

Surviving the alcohol you consumed was nothing compared to the way you had to fight for your life upon receiving that.

That morning, when you were called into the office for a case, you’d expected to be greeted with an onslaught of teasing from your coworkers, but Spencer had enough time before you arrived to plead with the rest of the team not to embarrass you. Surprisingly, they had agreed, but on one condition: Spencer had to do something about his workplace crush, because the rest of the team were losing their patience with the tension between you. To save you the embarrassment, Spencer sacrificed his own dignity in agreeing to that, and it’s been hanging over his head ever since.

The clouds beneath the jet serve as an interesting background to your thoughts, your headphones blocking out any and all sound beyond your music. You are away in your own little world, save for the part of your brain that is acutely aware of your elbow touching Spencer’s with the only barrier being your jacket and his. Does he spend as much time dwelling on these things? Does he ever wonder, like you do, that this connection between you could amount to something else, something more, if either of you were willing to take the risk? The risk is, in itself, a great one. While the risks surrounding any love in general are an obvious factor, in your shared field of work, that is exacerbated. Neither of you can explicitly trust that you would be able to act professionally if the other was harmed in any way, and you could bear witness to any degree of harm against the other while in the field. If that wasn’t enough, should it not work out, you would have no choice but to leave your dream job to work and live elsewhere, uprooting the life you’ve built here in its entirety; while Spencer would stay with the family he has worked with for so many years, the building would never feel the same to him without you in it. Whoever took your desk after you, he would be unable to withhold a small amount of resentment towards - he would never act on it, but he would feel it. And the guilt of being with him having caused you to have to restart your life somewhere else? That is a weight he is terrified of carrying. So many have faced worse fates as a result of getting close to Spencer, but when it comes to you, he cannot think of any worse than that, or his chest will start to hurt.

Perhaps this case is the perfect opportunity, he wonders to himself while a female cop converses with him, barely occupying even half of Spencer’s brain as he focuses on thoughts of you.

“I think it’s great you guys have come down here to help us!” The local cop grins up at Spencer.

A case in Vegas, where he could use some time once the case is closed to show you some of his favorite places. You’d like that, he thinks.

“Thank you, we’re always happy to help when requested.” Spencer answers casually.

But from the little office you’re working in, you can see the way that local cop is ogling at Spencer, and you feel a twinge of jealousy. It was only a few minutes ago you were looking at the hazel in his eyes up close in the same way she currently is, but you like to think you’re a little less obvious than that. You are not.

“Some of these guys, you can tell they don’t know what they’re doing, but you definitely do, don’t you? I’ve heard the rest of your team calling you a genius!” The local cop babbles to Spencer, eyes like an animal in heat.

Perhaps a tour of the casino’s? But a certain card-counting ability resulting in a certain state-wide ban would make that somewhat difficult. That probably wouldn’t be a very good date. Would it be a date? Spencer wonders, before he shrugs, feeling a little awkward.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified given its diversity in both person and circumstance, but I appreciate your faith in the BAU, who I’d better get back to. Thanks.” With that, he steps away from the officer, thinking nothing of the conversation given that his focus had been elsewhere for the duration of it.

You, however, cannot let it go. To your detriment, you assume a seasoned profiler like Spencer can read flirtatious intent a mile off (his unreliable grasp on social cues begs to differ) and from a distance, it didn’t look to you that he outright rejected the advances of another woman (his unreliable grasp on social cues left him unaware there were even advances to reject), and that left you feeling…upset. You had thought your relationship with Spencer to be special, that he didn’t reject the warm, sweet tension between the two of you because he liked you, specifically, but if he didn’t reject the flirtations of another woman, are you just a more regular occurrence of what she offered him?

Little do you know, if Spencer heard your thoughts suggest he only merely “liked” you, he may very well go into cardiac arrest under the pressure of the weight to correct you, adamantly. There is not a string of words in his vocabulary to adequately describe what he feels for you, and to imply “like” conveys them is salt in the wound you cause in his heart for each day you’re not his.

Naturally, for the rest of the day you are accompanied by a cloud hanging over your head to consistently remind you of that very same fact - that you are not Spencer’s. It is hardly surprising you do everything in your power to avoid him, offering to assist every member of the team with whatever task they’re doing to take you out of his reach and prevent him from talking to you. Of course, you know he’ll notice, and you’ll apologize when you’ve recovered enough to not cry at the thought of him, but for tonight are destined to bury yourself in hotel bedcovers that you partially hope suffocate you into unconsciousness to save you further torment.

Most unfortunately for you, only an hour into your tears, there is a soft knock at your hotel room door. By now, you are beyond the point of being able to hide the extent to which you have already cried, so you formulate a number of excuses pertaining to allergies or hormones on your way to the door. All of those lies evaporate on opening your door to find Spencer standing there, looking down at you with pleading eyes that quite frankly make you want to launch yourself from your hotel room window.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, (Y/N), I just came by to-“ His eyes widen. “You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question; Spencer knows you well enough to not need to doubt himself when he reads your physical tells.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Did you need something?” You brush off his concern, hoping to distract him with whatever his original reason for coming here was - it wouldn’t be the first time Spencer materialized in your presence to ask your opinion of something obscure or a social situation he was uncertain of because he felt comfortable enough to come to you about it, you just wanted to get this over with so that you could return to your crying pit.

“I- what? Don’t worry about it? You’ve been crying, of course I’ll worry about that! Extensively!” Spencer exclaims, his voice rising in pitch slightly with his distress, before he clears his throat. “I came by to check on you because your behavior today confused me, and it appears I was right to be concerned.” Seeing the apprehension on your face, Spencer is quick to amend the question he was going to ask. “If you’d prefer not to talk about it, I understand and won’t pressure you, but please don’t force yourself to suffer alone if you can help it. There’s nothing I’d rather listen to than you.”

The sincerity in Spencer’s words brings fresh tears to your eyes, and it’s physically painful to look away from him and stare at the doorframe.

“It’s nothing, Spencer, just getting in my head about things that-“ You begin, and in a moment that is completely unlike his usually overly-polite self, he interrupts you.

“Is it something I did?” He asks, his eyes widening with the same plea as before.

Spencer’s question surprises you so much that you hesitate to answer him, only for a second before your lips part again, but your delay is enough of an answer to him.

“(Y/N), please tell me I did so that I can fix this. I don’t understand- I’ve already gone over our every interaction over the past 48 hours, 30 times each, and I’m not smart enough to have been unable to determine a conclusion on my own. Please tell me.” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse with the weight of having hurt your feelings without ever intending to.

Knowing he isn’t going to forgive himself without an explanation and that he’ll see through any lie you give him now, you are left without a choice.

“That cop you spoke to today, was she flirting with you?” The words fall from your lips freely, and Spencer blinks.

Once, twice, then a third time.

“Which…female officer? In the past 8 hours I have spoken to three.” He asks so carefully, like he’s walking on glass.

You have to resist rolling your eyes, because you know Spencer isn’t being clueless on purpose, but it doesn’t ease your pain.

“Just after midday, the one who was looking up at you like you were the best thing she’d seen all day.” Now, you can’t resist rolling your eyes; an involuntary reaction that makes Spencer frown in confusion.

“The conversation consisted of her thanking us for assisting them with the case and enquiring as to whether I’m a genius- to which I said I don’t think intelligence can be accurately quantified, and that was it.” Spencer has never been more confused in his entire life. He feels there is something obvious staring him right in his face and he is mortified at being completely blind to it, but he is treading very carefully over this invisible minefield.

“She was flirting with you, Spencer, didn’t you see the way she was looking at you?” Trying to read his expression and only finding confusion is not helping.

“I wasn’t really looking at her.” Spencer answers truthfully, because his eyes had been glazed over as he thought of places he could show you while in Vegas, where posed the highest probability of a successful date, should you accept the offer he had every intention of presenting you with.

“You didn’t notice…” You murmur, your heart sinking in your chest.

You had been upset that Spencer hadn’t rejected the advances of another woman under the presumption he understood her advances, but if he truly did not when she was being so obvious, he most likely doesn’t notice yours, either. He hasn’t been reciprocating the energy you thought was between you for that reason, he’s just been continuing the conversation without a clue. A lump forms in your thought.

Meanwhile, Spencer is even more confused.

“I’m not certain I understand what the issue is. Was it the flirting? Or the fact I didn’t register it? Should I have?” He is lost and in desperate need of guidance. As soon as he knows what he’s done to upset you, he’ll beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but at this time he is still unable to determine the problem. If you had not realized he didn’t acknowledge the flirting until now, that couldn’t be the issue, but if the issue was simply that he’d been flirted with, you now knowing he wasn’t aware of it would have fixed that - so why do you look more upset? This just in: Doctor Spencer Reid loathes social cues.

“Do you notice when anyone flirts with you?” Answering his question with your own question is only sending him further into a spiral.

You are the only person he ever wishes would flirt with him, but Spencer is absolutely convinced you never would. If he answers “no” to your rephrased version of the same question you had just asked him, that appears to be the answer you are assuming to be true which is making you look sadder. He does not understand this at all.

“How do I answer that in a way that won’t upset you further…” Spencer frowns, focussing very hard on your every micro-expression, trying to use your face as a cheat sheet.

“I don’t think you can, Spencer. Thanks for coming to check on me. Goodnight.” You give him a weak smile and go to close your hotel room door, but Spencer places a palm against the door with an expression of alarm.

“Please-“ He starts, then stops himself when you meet his eyes, his tone softening. “Talk to me.”

You take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet. What do you have to lose? Your heart’s already been hit with every weapon of mass destruction you can think of.

“I thought- I thought you knew there was- it wasn’t flirting, but there’s been something between us that I thought you knew as well as I did. Stupidly, I thought you were reciprocating it, but if you couldn’t tell that cop was flirting with you, there’s no way you knew…” Your weak smile wavers. “Like I said, just getting in my head over things. Doesn’t matter. You haven’t done anything wrong. Night-“

Once again unexpectedly, Spencer interrupts you, but this time for a very different reason.

“I need to sit down.”

It’s only then you realize how suddenly pale he’s become. Paler than you’ve ever seen him, in fact. Your eyes widen, and you grab Spencer’s forearms, guiding him into your hotel room and over to the armchair in the corner of the room, the door clicking shut behind you while Spencer stumbles with the most shell shocked look in his eyes.

“Spencer, what’s going on? Are you alright?” You ask him worriedly.

“Indeterminable.” Spencer answers in a distant voice.

“Okay, okay, uh-“ You flit from him to the sink in your hotel room to grab Spencer a glass of water, that you’re quick to bring to him. “Here.”

His eyes don’t even focus on you or the glass, but he takes it from your hand and gulps it down. Spencer makes the mistake of glancing at you mid-sip, and starts choking, resulting in you patting his back.

“Something between us…” He coughs out. “You said, something between us. What.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and your face feels hot.

“You know, mutual pining. Like in movies.” You feel very awkward having to explain that.

“Books, first.” Spencer corrects you quietly, his breathing finally steadying.

“Yeah, okay, books first.” You can’t help chuckling lightly and taking the empty glass back over to the sink, then returning to Spencer, but stopping in your tracks when you find him now standing instead of sitting in the armchair.

“A study has shown that on average it takes men 88 days to fall in love, while it takes women 134 days. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t believe every aspect of love can be reduced to facts and statistics, but in moments of self-doubt I fall back on what I know. I knew what I knew of how I felt about you on the day we met, but I waited 88 days to be certain, and then it was only logical I waited 134 days to give you the chance to develop even the vaguest pleasant feeling towards me.” He takes a breath. “It has only been 120 days; I had not yet decided how I was going to broach this topic with you, and the question remains as to whether I’ve waited long enough for you to be as certain as I am. If the answer is anything other than yes, I promise, I’ll wait as many days as it takes, even if it’s a number I can’t reach.” Spencer’s voice is that of a man swearing an oath he has no doubt he’ll live to honor in every sense, and you are certain your heart has stopped beating.

You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling like time has frozen around you, the only sounds being your breathing to fill the suffocating silence of your hotel room. A microexpression of terror flickers across Spencer’s face, and you are brought back to yourself in an instant.

“I wish you’d asked me 120 days ago.” You say breathlessly.

“I didn’t ask anything.” Yet, Spencer adds internally, his heart pounding.

“But you’re going to.” You clarify softly, and Spencer nods, so you nod back at him.

“Would…” Spencer clears his throat. “Would you allow me the honor of taking you on a date? With me? Together? Here? Or anywhere- anywhere we can realistically travel to, that is-“ As he rambles and gets ahead of himself, your expression of shock evolves into a smile, and it’s your turn to interrupt him.

“Yes. Anywhere, anytime. Yes.” You answer.

There’s a beat of silence as Spencer catches his breath.

“Now?” He dares to whisper, and you’re grinning, glancing between him, and the provisions of a TV, bed and phone that this hotel room provides.

“Would you be opposed to a first date of takeout and shitty hotel room cable?” You offer playfully.

A bashful smile curls at the corner of Spencer’s mouth as he smiles back at you.

“Anything with you.” He says, but is quick to amend his own words. “Provided it’s an entirely safe scenario, obviously.”

That makes you snicker. “Obviously.”

Spencer looks between you and the bed, nervous of how to proceed. You make the first move, taking a step towards the bed, and Spencer offers you his hand - somewhat needlessly, but if he ever misses an instant in which he can deliver a gentlemanly action upon you, he would suggest that’s the instant you shoot him dead - to assist you onto the mattress before he follows suit and sits down beside you, kicking off his shoes.

“I’m completely underdressed for our first date, sorry.” You joke, looking between your pajamas and Spencer’s suit.

“You’re beautiful.” Is all he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it as he gazes down at you with the most gentle smile.

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers, and Spencer doesn’t hesitate to lift them to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles tenderly.

“Takeout?” He murmurs against your skin, and for a second you’re lost to the daze of his kisses that you wonder if he’s asking whether the act of them has taken you out (to which you’d answer with a resounding yes), but remembering the nature of your date, you nod wordlessly.

Spencer smirks against your knuckles.

“I meant, what kind of takeout?” He amends, and your face feels hot again.

“Anything at all.” Is all you can think to respond, because to be completely honest, you do not care what you eat tonight.

Spencer chuckles quietly at that, keeping his hand holding yours while his other hand reaches for the hotel room phone, to dial for reception and request their recommendations for the best local takeout places.

“What’s so funny?” You ask him, but you’re smiling regardless of not yet knowing, just seeing him laugh while his thumb caresses your knuckles.

“I was just thinking, ‘Anything at all’ is exactly what I’ve thought every time I’ve looked at you.” Spencer muses as he brings the phone to his ear.

Anything at all to make you smile again, anything at all from you, if you asked he’d anything at all for you.

And much like the last time, you don’t even realize he’s spelling out words against your skin with the caress of his thumb. This time, though, it’s just one phrase, repeated.

To be yours.

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slvthrs · 5 months

Note

can you do a vinnie x fem reader smut where she (reader) is stressed out and vinnie fucks her good on the balcony and they didn’t care anymore if they get caught of what ��

ofc my lovesss

BREATHE BABY | v.hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

stress never stood a chance against a tall blond with an unyielding love for you.

BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, fucking in a pool over the city, vinnie LOVES u, praise kink, hickies n love bites

word count: 2.5k <3

a/n: idfk if vinnie has a pool in his apt, i added one for the plot 😭

Stress was one of the most constant presences in your life. University, friendships, family relationships. It was as if stress was an obsessive ex that you couldn’t get rid of creeping back into your life once it got good.

The only thing that could keep it a bay was Vinnie, your best friend of 12 years, ever since you were nine years old the boy was like a walking calmer for you. His presence made you relax and he always reminded you when you needed to take a break.

Ever since he moved out to LA at 18 the stress slowly crept back into your life, and you had to adapt again. More friends in uni and new found appreciation of swimming.

If you weren't studying or with your friends, you were swimming. Sometimes the water made you calm down, it felt as if all your stress floated away as the water touched your skin.

That’s where you were again, the pool attached to Vinnie's apartment.

It was so odd, the lanky scruffy boy who you became friends with grew into the type of men you would see modeling- and you did.

Everything was so much more intimidating about the boy. His height, the tattoos littering his skin which make your skin turn hot.

His new found fame which made your head dizzy the longer you thought about it. The idea of the boy you first became friends with turning into this man who had girls falling over him left in right made your stomach flip and you had no idea if it was good or bad.

You had kept an eye on what he was up to in LA, his friends, his business, that one fight that made you nearly throw up out of fear.

And of course who he was dating.

It always said he wasn’t seeing anyone but you were never convinced, no one looks like that and is single, you always thought to yourself.

But it wasn’t just him who had changed.

Looking back, being stuck to one boy's side for all of elementary, middle, and high school was a hindrance.

Once you branched out in university you flourished.

You grew into a new woman.

Your features were sharper, your curves more defined, your entire face had what your friends called, ‘a glow up’.

Regular visits to the gym and taking care of yourself made you stand out.

Also being more active in your sex and love life made you more in touch with your body. Your last ex boyfriend taught you so much about what you did and didn’t like, you got better and sex and the burst of confidence helped you in tremendous ways.

You walked with more purpose in your steps and it really did seem like you left Seattle and turned into a different woman.

But this new Vinnie made you feel like a little girl again. Floundering in the big kids pool, kicking your tiny legs for a chance to come up and breathe again.

All of your confidence was for show as when Vinnie walked in you returned into that stressful anxious girl again.

You relaxed lackadaisical at the edge of the pool looking over the edge.

Everything looked so small, everyone down there had their own lives, your worries seemed miniscule compared to what everyone else down there had to go through.

An ambulance rushed by and the only thought you had was someone was about to get the most devastating news of your life.

It was like a trance the city of LA put you into.

The city of angels.

“You look deep in thought.” The velvety voice of the boy who the house belonged to piped in.

You turned and saw Vinnie resting against the sliding door of the balcony. His hands were in the pockets of his swim trunks whilst he had an unbuttoned linen shirt barely converting his ink filled torso.

“I’m always deep in thought Vinne, you know that.” A small huff left your plump lips as you turned and said that.

“I know but especially today.” He explained whilst walking over to dip his feet in the pool, “Is LA freaking you out? I felt like that for the first year I was here.”

He always did that. Trying to figure out what made you uncomfortable and trying to fix that. He was always kind like that.

“No Vin, it’s everything. It’s so weird. You left Seattle as a scared boy and now you seem like someone I’d see plastered on magazines talking about how many girls he sleeps with in a year.” The crude stereotype aside, Vinnie laughed at your remark.

“I’m still the same guy, you know that.” He said and continued a second later, “Besides, look at you. You're like a different person.”

It was your turn to laugh now, “You can come in you know that? It’s like you're trying to stay away from me.”

He smiled, “Thanks for the invite into my own pool.”

Despite the sarcasm he took his shirt off and entered the pool, walking over to where you were floating.

He towered over you.

“I don’t think I’ve changed that much.” You toyed with your bikini strap, “I’m still the same anxious girl you met.”

His hands rested on your waist, “Sure, but you're more confident, you're more talkative, plus you look so different.”

It’s quiet until Vinnie breaks the silence again.

“I kept checking on your Instagram now and again. You seem happier.” You both know what he means when he says that.

“I am. Moving out of Seattle was hard but in the grand scheme of things I couldn’t stay there after you left, it felt empty.” You tell him as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face.

“M’ sorry, I had to leave but my biggest regret is that you couldn’t have come with me.”

You laugh pulling away from him and turing back around, facing the city again, leaning over the edge of the pool.

“Even if you have asked I wouldn’t have come. I love you Vin, but I was always was gonna go to university. You were the unconventional one out of the 2 of us.” You sigh pulling you hair to one side and playing with the ends, a sort of nervous tick you developed after your first months in university.

“I know.” He breathes out, “That’s why I didn’t ask but a part of me always hoped you would come.”

He comes closer to you, his hands wrap around your waist and now your back is hitting his chest. His head practically rests on top of yours.

You nearly start crying.

You don’t know why.

“You think anyone down there is going through the same thing were going through?” It’s a dumb question on your part but you like talking to the blond.

“Are any of them dealing with 2 friends you love each other and have been apart for so long that they don’t know what to do,” He pauses, “Also one of them if famous and the other is the most amazing person on earth? Nah I don’t think so.”

“Mhm that makes sense.”

It goes quiet again.

The wind rustles against the palm trees and if you really focused your ears you could hear the waves crashing along the shore.

“You keep tabs on my insta?” You ask with a smile creeping up on your face

He smiles him self letting a huff of laughter out, “Yeah, I was hoping you forgot I said that.”

“Why, whatd’ya see on there?” Another dumb question, you know exactly what he saw on there.

“You look happier, also you have new friends, ones I would like to meet,” His heart skips a beat, “Also y’know that guys on there.”

You laugh internally and turn around so you can see his face.

“Their some of my friends, I think you would like them.” You know he wouldn’t.

“What about Tyler?”

Your ex-boyfriend, the one you meet during finals week of your sophomore year. You had dated for nearly 9 months before you broke it off.

It wasn’t anything serious, he didn’t cheat, he didn’t lie- your lives were too different and you both knew that.

It was a mutual decision but Vinnie didn’t care. Anyone the broke up with you or even hurt you in anyways was evil in his eyes, how anyone could do that to you, he couldn’t explain to himself.

“Tyler’s Tyler it doesn’t matter.”

He blinks at you.

“What you want me to bring up all the girls your rumored to be dating?”

“Fuck off you know that isn’t the same thing. Half of those girls I only follow on tiktok and I haven’t been in a single committed relationship with any of them… Why the fuck did I find out about your long term relationship over fucking INSTAGRAM, I’m your best friend what hell?”

He steps back, with his hands in the air like he’s being accused of something.

“I don’t know Vin I just didn’t know how to tell you, everything was too much. I was so worried what you were gonna think and then it got to late. I felt like there was no point in telling you-”

You ramble and he cuts you off.

“It’s fine, breathe pretty girl, just relax, I’m right here.”

He pulls you closer to him and the moment you look into his eyes that calming effect he has on you just corses through your body.

Something just clicks inside the both of you and he’s kissing you so gently it’s like hes afraid of breaking you.

His lips slot perfectly into your’s, it’s like you were made for him, his hands fall onto your ass as he pulls you closer, his eyebrows are knitted together in focus and he’s holding you as if he’s afraid to lose you.

It feels so fucking right.

You the one that pulls him harder into you, your hands tangle into his hair, deepening the kiss.

Your nails rake the back of his neck and he hums in content.

Your the one that pulls back, a trail of saliva linking the 2 of you and he looks at you so intently as if he’s studying you.

“Your so beautiful. I don’t think I tell you that enough.” And his lips are back on yours.

Your the one who pulls the strings of your bikini of and his lifting you up so your flush against his body, most likely so he can feel your tits pressed up against his chest.

He’s grining in the kiss, as his hands grope your thighs and ass trailing up towards your hips. His hands are all over you and your ecstatic they are.

“More” you whisper into the kiss like it’s a secret only the two of you can share or else yoru lives would ruin.

“Please Vinnie I’m begging you.” You know your not telling him what you wnat but you pray he’ll save some of the embarrassment for you.

“Tell me what you want, I’ll do anything for you.” It’s like a prayer or promise of worship.

“Fuck me please, do whatever you want, I just need you.” It’s desperate and it turns Vinnie on so much more.

His fingers link around the straps of your bottoms and he pulls the down, your fully nude under him as he fiddles with his own shorts.

Your legs link around him as he slowly slides his dick in letting you get used to the size if anything.

You head falls onto his shoulders as you sigh out, your eyebrows knit and you nearly loose your shit.

He feels so much bigger than anyone else you’ve ever had sex with and your entire body feels like its getting shocked.

The sensation to crynearly hits you before you pull your self together, latching you lips onto Vinnie’s neck as he starts to move you.

It’sa rhythmic pace and it’s a kind one faring his size but you want more. You’ve waited years for this and you want more than him just being kind.

“Vinnieee,” It comes out as a needy whine as you cry out his name, “More, harder, anything just please needa feel you everywhere.”

You ramble but he knows what you want. He knows your body, he knows you better than you know yourself.

His pace speeds up and he tries to keep kissing your but you keep writhing. He finds it adorable but your trying not to cum as quick to draw this out.

You wanna feel him everywhere, you wanna be able to only see him.

“Vin,” You words are loosing power as he keeps thrusting into you, your thighs are sore and your mind is clouded with the thought of yoru impending orgasm.

“Choke me please, need to feel you.” His pace falters as he tries to grapple with what you just admitted to him.

The look on your face proves your not joking but he swears he nearly came just by the sentence alone.

His dick twitches inside you as his hands wrap around the base of your neck, he pulls yoru face up and you look into his eyes.

You look drunk and delrious and he wants you to have his kids right there on the spot.

He can’t even tell you what it is, he’s just so much more in love with you.

As his hands add pressure your hands comes to weakly wrap around his, not realy doing anything, just an unorthodox way of holding hands.

Your sense are flooded with just, Vinnie.

The same boy practically trained to teach you how to breathe when your mind rabbles, cutting your breathe off, and the way he looks while doing it.

His pupils are blown out and his face looks like a mix of lust and love. The whole scene out of a porno but even his eyes can’t hide how deeply he’s in love with you.

When he lets your neck go you inhale so deeply you nearly start coughing and he pulls you closer to him as his thrusts become sporadic.

Your forehead rests against his as you both cum, nearly blacking out as your vision goes white.

Your panting as he puts you down on the edge of the pool as he finds you a towl and the rest of your clothes floating around in the pool.

You end up in the bath making sure the get the chlorine off and the residues of sex off the both of you.

Your lying ontop of his as his hands rake through your hair.

“Just breathe baby we’ll take about it tomorrow.” And thats what you do, breathing to the sund of his heartbeats.

#bella's full works #bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x reader fluff

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hitomisuzuya · 2 months

Note

Im sending hugs to you. I hope this ask helps in any way it can. If you dont want to write it, feel free to ignore (although id appreciate it if youd answer the ask and tell me you wont write it.) love love love you and your writings!

Request!

Fatui scara coming home earlier than his wife which is rare since hes the one thats usually late cuz of harbinger duties. One she does arrive, its practically hours that should be spent in bed, resting. He senses wife troubles aka wife in need of love and attention due to being exhausted from work, life or whatever may be. All he knows is that he needs to get rid of your stress. By fucking it out of you, that is.

I can see this as soft dom scara but you can do whatever you like ^^

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Creampie. Husband!Scaramouche. Degradation. Soft!Dom Scara.

Thank you, dear ❤️ Writing this did help. I am glad everyone likes my soft doms a lot. Scara is straight up husband material in a lot of unique ways 😌

Scaramouche is very set in his ways, his eyes immediately hooding with annoyance the moment he walked through the door. He didn't receive his usual greeting: his wife's arms wrapped around him, nuzzling into his neck with: "I missed you. I am glad you are home."

This man legit walked into every room and looked around. Pulled back the curtains to every window, looking outside in hopes of seeing you. Sighing, he crossed his arms. "Where is my wife?"

He was pretty sure the entirety of Teyvat, and maybe even Celestia was impressed that he'd found a woman who could tolerate him, and the general experience even knowing him brought. He would've been the biggest idiot not to lock you down when he did.

Being the man that he is, Scaramouche knew exactly what you needed the moment he saw you walk in the door. You looked tired, anxious, and lonely. He knew you got anxious without him, and the fact that he'd stayed away three days longer than he promised didn't help much.

Scaramouche knew what he had to do: these tensions were best relieved by fucking you raw, absolutely dumb and drooling on his cock. Real men tended to their wife. And he was determined to do nothing short of that.

From the way your pussy was clenching around his cock as he fucked into you from behind more than said how much you missed him. There wasn't one moment where his cock hadn't been aching to buried raw inside of you.

The relentless pace with which his hips smacked into yours was furious. "Sc-Scara!" You cried out, his cock head nudging firm and consistent into your sweet spot struck you breathless, your fingers clawing at the sheets. You could barely breath as shamelessly loud moans sounded from your throat, "I can't breathe! I need you so badly," The latter was said behind a choked back sobs of pleasure, your hips pushing back into his cock.

"Shh, shh, I know, kitten. I know," Scaramouche groaned, he reached a shaky down to stroke the back of your head before grabbing a handful of your hair, "Just shut that pretty brain of yours off, and focus on one thing," He pulled your head back, pushing a hand down on the small of your back to make you arch it down, "Pleasing me."

He smirked feeling such a shiver rippled through you. The more dominant he got with you, the more you relaxed. Archons, he'd missed you so fucking much. Both him and his cock. Your pussy was clutching so warm, perfect, and tight on his cock. Craving to milk it for all it was worth that it was hard to keep himself from cumming.

Fucking his pretty wife full of his cum was part of tending to her. And there was more than a thick, milky ring glistening on his cock. "Fuck I can feel it, you are so close," He groaned drunkenly, reaching down to rub and pinch your clit, "Cum on your husband's dick like the cock drunk slut you are," He kept a hand on your hip, holding your body still so he could fuck his cock as deep inside of you as he could.

You were dizzy, seeing stars and drooling. Your pussy only clenched tighter, your clit swelling and throbbing more underneath his fingers as he degradingly praised you. He delivered a firm smack across your ass to emphasize he meant what he said.

You mewled in bliss, your toes curling as pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes. You felt every pulse of his thick, veiny cock dragging between your sensitive walls. You could barely hold yourself up on your elbows, your whole body shaking from pleasure.

Scaramouche was certain all those unwanted, stressful tensions were melting away from you. "Who do you belong to, kitten?" He purred, the pads of his fingers skating on your clit, "Who did you swear to honor and obey?"

"You! It's you, Scaramouche!" You barely heard the shaky laugh behind you before the knot of your orgasm finally broke apart, your pussy squirting as you creamed hard on his cock. You could barely comprehend up from down, all the feelings of how hard it was being lonely, waiting all the time was for you was forgotten.

"That's fucking right," Scaramouche moaned, his cock pulsing cum for third time that night inside of you, "Look at my good girl fucking shake, my perfect obedient slut," He babbled. His eyes drifted closed, lost in the haze of how perfect his cock felt sheathed inside of you.

The satisfaction Scaramouche felt was immense when he pulled out of you, his cum oozing out of you as he gently flipped you over onto your back. Your arms immediately wrapped around him as he collapsed on top of you. "I missed you, Scara. I missed you so much," You said sleepily, nuzzling into his neck.

"Finally," He murmured, holding you against him.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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girlgenius1111 · 7 months

Text

echoes of her

fluff x angst. implied sexual content? 18+ anyway. warnings: mention of unhealthy past relationship.

alexia and r are out, r sees alexia with another girl, who happens to be r's ex. r acts up, until alexia drags her home, prepared to punish her for being a brat. before she does, r breaks down, tells alexia what was really going on.

You did a double take when you noticed just who your girlfriend was speaking to at the bar. Your blood ran cold at the sight of her; your ex girlfriend. How, why, was she here?

She was, truly, an awful person. Incomparably so. Your time with her had been awful for you, completely destroying your mental health. Despite this, Alexia hardly knew anything about the other woman. She knew there was someone before her, when you were still living in London, and that it hadn't ended well. You'd kept that ugly part of you locked away from your girlfriend. Partly because you didn't feel like bothering her with something that was so very done, but also because you didn't want her to see how shattered that girl had left you.

Alexia had walked away to get another drink for you a few minutes ago. It was taking longer than you expected, so you turned away from the conversation you were having with Mapi, and looked around for the blonde head of hair you were so familiar with. There she was, stood at the bar, making conversation with another blonde you were rather familiar with. What this woman was doing in Spain was beyond you; for a moment, you wondered if you were being crazy; that couldn't be her.

Then she turned, catching your eye and sending you a smirk, and you knew this was no accident. Her, in this club, talking to your girlfriend. You felt like you were being torn in half; you felt like sprinting towards the nearest exit, away from the girl standing at the bar. At the same time, you wanted to run towards her, to pull Alexia away, to protect her. You were paralyzed, a million different thoughts running through your head as you caught Alexia's eye. Her smile fell, eyes squinting slightly as she caught the very panicked look on your face.

"Chica!" Mapi called, waving a hand in front of your face. This broke you out of your stare, and you jumped a little, turning towards your friend. Her and Patri were looking at you, concerned, having witnessed you go from relaxed to completely tense in just 10 seconds.

"Yeah?" You asked, clearing your throat, glancing back at where your girlfriend had been standing. She was on her way back to you, and you dug your nails into your leg. Alexia would come here, and everything would be fine.

"Are you okay?" Patri asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You repressed a shudder at the contact. Everything was setting you off, everything suddenly too loud, too bright, too close.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got dizzy for second. I'm fine." You promised, putting on a smile that you hoped was convincing. Before either girl could question you further, an arm was wrapping around your abdomen, pulling you back into your girlfriend's body. You curled into her and she tightened her arms around you, rubbing her thumb up and down your stomach lightly.

"Bién?" Alexia softly whispered in your ear. "Are you feeling ill?" You weren't sure how Alexia could tell you felt nauseous, seeing as though the lights in the club were multicolored and dim. You turned to look at up at her, and caught your ex girlfriend, only a few feet away, clearly intending to come speak to you.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Alexia's neck, pulling her down into a kiss that could only be described as one too filthy to be had in public. Alexia allowed it for a minute, pulling back when Mapi and Patri started making loud retching noises from next to her. She gave you a look, one that told you to behave, before turning to your friends and rolling her eyes at them.

"No seas dramática. As if I have not seen you both make out with girls in clubs until my eyes were burning."

Before they could respond, you raised a hand to Alexia's cheek, turning her head to look back at you. Your ex had stopped moving closer, but she was still watching, a frown set on her face. You needed her to stay away, stay far away. Alexia had been looking forward to this night out, though, and the only way she'd agree to leave early was if you gave her a convincing reason to. Of course, you could have just told her what was going on, but that didn't really feel like an option to you.

"Dance with me?" You asked Ale, a plan beginning to form in your head. Get Alexia turned on, get her to take you home. Get your ex to leave you alone, all at once.

Alexia got the familiar dreamy expression on her face that she got when you asked her for anything, and she nodded.

"Sí, if you want."

You took her hand, puling her towards the dance floor. Behind you, out of your line of sight, Mapi and Patri exchanged amused looks; never before had they seen their stubborn captain so easily agree to dance. She would do anything for you, though, as was evident.

Your and Alexia's dancing remained innocent for less than a minute, before you were turning your back to her, pressing your ass back into her, and grabbing her hands in yours. You trailed them all over your body, grinding backwards to the bass of the song. You didn't need to hear Alexia's hitch of breath to know how she was feeling about this.

You were pushing her, you knew. Alexia was possessive; she didn't like anyone to see you the way she did. This little performance you were putting on was drawing some attention; it was a gay bar, after all, and your tight outfit hugged you perfectly, your body swaying gracefully against Alexia's. She clenched her jaw tight, sure you were going for a reaction, and not quite wanting to give you one.

Her resolve broke, though, when she caught the blonde she was talking to earlier at the bar staring at you. It seemed to Alexia that you were looking right back at her.

"Vamos, mi zorrita." Alexia whispered lowly right into your ear, wrenching her hands out of yours, instead placing a possessive hand on your back, and leading you towards the exit. As she passed the woman who had been looking at you, she made eye contact, glaring hard. You were hers. She thought she felt you tense up as you passed by her, reaching back to lace your fingers with hers, but she didn't linger too long on it, already planning what she was going to do with you when you arrived home.

You passed by where your friends were gathered, ignoring their knowing smirks as Alexia practically dragged you out of the club. So close, you were so close to being safe, to Alexia being safe, far away from her.

-----

Alexia gave you the silent treatment in the car, knowing how crazy it drove you. You needed contact with her, though, anxiety still swirling inside of you. You couldn't ask for her hand right now, without explaining why yours was inexplicably shaking. Not now, when Alexia was preparing, deservedly, to punish you.

Instead, you let your hand rest on her thigh, letting your fingers rub small patterns in to the fabric of her tight leather pants. She scoffed at you, as if daring you to continue teasing her, but she still didn't say anything. It was fine, you were almost home. Alexia would make you feel good, replace every thought in your mind of her, with the feeling of your girlfriend all over you. It was fine.

-----

The minute you were through the door, Alexia had you pressed up against the wall of the entry way, barely taking time to shut the door behind her. You reached for her, but she grabbed your hands with hers, pressing them back into the wall.

"No no, you wanted to be una zorrita, I will treat you like one."

"Alexia-"

"Cállate." She growled, moving her lips to your neck, working marks into the skin. Her teeth nipped at your skin, and you shuddered at the feeling. You were turned on, obviously. How could you not be? Alexia was biting at kissing at you like she wanted to eat you alive, pressing up against the wall, clearly preparing to fuck the brattiness out of you.

You weren't in the right headspace for this, though. Your brain was already flashing to times with her times that had been fueled with rage, and a passionate hatred. Times that were definitely not healthy. Alexia needed to stop. Now. Your breathing was quickening, your hands were starting to shake, and you needed her off, off now.

"Stop. Red, Alexia, stop" you managed, taking your hands and physically pushing Alexia away. She was off of you in a heartbeat at your words, her hands raised in the air, swollen lips falling into a concerned frown.

"Okay, okay. Stop. We stop." She assured you, taking in the way your whole body seemed to vibrate with anxiety. She had mistaken your body's reaction as being one of arousal, when it had been one of panic. "Mi amor? Talk to me." She pleaded softly.

You reached a shaky hand out towards your girlfriend, and she took it instantly, latching on and squeezing tight. You were unsteady, mind in overdrive. All you knew was that Alexia was safe, and you needed safe. You tried to take a step towards the blonde, but you were shaking too hard, and your legs practically gave out from under you. Alexia caught you easily, carefully lowering you to the ground. She made a movement as if to give you space again, not wanting to overwhelm you with her touch.

That was the opposite of what you needed, though, the feeling of her hand in yours being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded.

"Ale," you gasped out, clinging onto her shirt.

"Está bien, está bien, te tengo." Alexia promised, allowing you to scramble closer into her arms. "Shh, shh, you are okay, amor, todo está bien."

You were a pile of limbs on the ground, just in the entry way of the house, a shaking mess collapsed against your girlfriend. You pressed your face closer into her neck, her loose blonde hair tickling your skin lightly. You couldn't get close enough to Alexia, would have preferred to climb into her skin if you could.

"Tighter," you mumbled.

"¿Qué?" She whispered back, her lips pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

"Tighter, please,"

Alexia tightened her arms around you, until it was almost painful, but it was exactly what you needed. Being surrounded by her was working, the scent of her perfume and her laundry detergent invaded your senses, one of her calloused hands sliding up under your shirt and moving slowly up and down your back.

"Mi bebé, estás a salvo, lo prometo."

Alexia wasn't sure what this was. One second, you were kissing her back, teasing her in the car on the way home, the next you were looking around like you weren't sure what was going on, or who was touching you. She thought she knew what you needed, but evidently, she was wrong.

You had calmed down significantly after a few minutes, settling into the feeling of Alexia's nails gently running through your hair.

"You back with me, amor?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." You inhaled deeply, leaning away and looking, guiltily, at your girlfriend. "I'm so sorry, Alexia, I didn't mean to freak out like that."

Alexia immediately shook her head. "No, I am sorry, amor. I should have checked in sooner."

"Alexia you were just kissing me, there wasn't time to check in sooner." You dismissed, rising unsteadily to your feet, and holding out a hand to help the blonde up as well. She still looked like she disagreed with you, but she took your hand anyway, allowing you to help her to her feet.

You knew a conversation was imminent, and you began to walk into the living room. Alexia caught your hand, though, pulling you back into a tight hug. You melted into it, pressing your face into her shoulder and inhaling deeply. After minute, Alexia released you, tilting your chin up to look at her.

"Better?" She questioned.

"Yeah, much better."

Alexia nodded, laying a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling you towards the living room once again. You sat slightly away from your girlfriend, mentally preparing yourself to tell her what was going on. The blonde frowned, but didn't move any closer.

"Amor. Did I do something to make you so upset?" Alexia asked, rushing through the question like she was terrified of your answer.

"No, no. It wasn't you. I got... overwhelmed. Tonight was a lot."

"Why was it a lot? What got you so riled up at the club? You were acting normal one second, and then you were all over me the next."

"I saw you at the bar... talking to that blonde girl? With the red top?" You trailed off, looking down at your hands. Alexia misunderstood.

"Bonita, I did not mean to make you jealous, I was just being nice."

"I wasn't jealous, Ale. I... I knew her. That girl. I knew her."

The midfielder took this in, nodding slowly. She was watching the expression on your face, carefully guarded, with just a hint of hurt peaking through.

"What did you know her from?" She wondered cautiously.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I used to date her. Back in London. Before I moved here."

"Oh... Oh. She is that ex. The one it did not work out so well with."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Not so well."

"And seeing her made you very upset?" Alexia continued. You nodded. "Can you tell me why?"

"That relationship wasn't good. At first, she was fine. We worked well together. She got... controlling and manipulative pretty fast. It was awful. We were together 6 months, and in that time she completely destroyed me. I was unrecognizable." You paused, peaking at the blonde. She was looking at you, sympathy written clear across her face, giving you a small nod to tell you to keep going.

"I don't think I really realized how bad it was until I met you, and you were so different than she was. Always so sweet to me. And seeing her with you, I don't know. It set off my fight or flight. I needed to protect you from her, and myself from her, and at the same time I wanted to prove to her that I was doing well, that I was happy. I wasn't happy, for so long after we broke up, and every time our paths crossed, she always seemed so pleased with herself. I needed to feel like I was yours, and the only thing I could think to do was the get you to take control, and get me out of there." You finished, eyes locked on the fingernail you were fiddling with.

Alexia was quiet for a while. So long, in fact, that you were starting to get nervous.

Finally, she spoke. "Well, first, mi amor, I am so sorry that you were in such a destructive relationship. You deserve so much better than that. You are... you are perfect mi niña, and I am so sorry that she did not see that, and that she was so awful to you. I would like to talk more about this, later."

"But you should have told me, amor. What was going on, who I had been speaking too. I would have gotten you out of there if I knew you needed to leave. You have to talk to me. When you do not feel safe, whatever it is, you tell me, and I will take care of it. Always."

"And, amor, there are other ways for me to make you know that you are mine, than trying to get me to have sex with you. We do not mess around like that when you are not feeling right." Alexia said firmly.

You found that, suddenly, you could not meet her eyes. Hesitantly, the blonde slid closer to you, leaving her hand open on the couch next to you, an invitation. You took it appreciatively, feeling inexplicably safer when her large hand completely encapsulated yours.

"I am not mad, bebita. I promise. Can you tell me what was going on in your head when you pushed me away?" Alexia felt you tense next to her, and opened her mouth to withdraw the question. Before she could, you spoke.

"We always used to have sex after a fight, once we'd made up. It wasn't healthy, and we shouldn't have been doing it but we did. I was remembering that, one of the last times. I didn't realized how unsafe I felt around her until I was with you, and I felt so safe. My body couldn't decide whether it was safe or not, it was really confusing."

Alexia sighed deeply, and you prepared yourself for her to get angry. You were surprised she hadn't yet, but it was only a matter of time. Wasn't it?

"If something like this ever happens again, you have to communicate with me, yes? You should always feel safe with me. Can I... can I ask why you did not tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to hear about it." You confessed, meeting Alexia's confused gaze.

"Why?" The midfielder responded, sounding completely bewildered.

"Why would you want to hear about my ex girlfriend, Alexia?" You scoffed.

"Because it was upsetting you. And she hurt you. I want to hear about those things. You are mine amor. Not hers, I know that. I want to know when something is upsetting you; it will never make me upset with you. Never."

You looked so unsure, Alexia rested a hand on your cheek, stroking gently back and forth with her thumb. "You can tell me anything, amor, anything. You do not need to worry about my reaction. All I care about is you being okay, not being jealous of your awful ex girlfriend."

You nodded hesitantly, placing your hand over Alexia's, keeping her hand on your face as you leaned into the contact.

"Mi amor," she murmured. "I am sorry tonight was so hard for you. How are you feeling now?"

"Better." You lied.

"Better, but..." Alexia said, looking at you expectantly. You wished you could be annoyed with how well she knew you, but you couldn't. It just made you feel that much more loved.

"But... seeing her again, it was like I was back there, in her little apartment. She made me feel so worthless, and I felt that way again. Like I was nothing, worth nothing." You admitted, turning away briefly to rub at your face, very tired of crying this evening. Alexia didn't let you get far, though, wrapping a muscular arm around your shoulder and pulling your right back into her.

"No. No. You are worth everything. Everything I have to give you and more, bebé, all of it."

"What did I do to deserve someone as good as you?" You wondered aloud, almost accidentally. You didn't realize what you'd said until Alexia frowned, looking into your eyes intently. You got lost in the warm hazel there, as you always did, almost forgetting your question until she spoke.

"You are good. You deserve good. I will only ever give you good, amor. Only ever the best for my girl." Alexia declared, leaving a light kiss on your nose, and then one on your lips. Her gaze when she pulled back was so intense, you felt yourself blushing heavily.

"I love you." You said shakily, managing a watery smile.

"I love you more." Alexia promised, leaning in for another gentle kiss.

Another thing about Alexia; when she told you something, you believed it. She had a way with speaking with such conviction, that when she told you she loved you, you were instantly convinced that she did. And if Alexia loved you? If someone as good, as perfect as Alexia loved you? You must have been deserving.

-----

did this win the poll? no. had i already started it when i posted the poll? yes. in conclusion, the results of polls are meaningless unless you pick what i want you to pick :(

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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hisfavegiri · 5 months

Text

One Mistake - Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader.

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, angst, mentions of an affair, harsh language, mention of blood, miscarriage.

You looked at your husband with the knife still at his neck, your tears flowing freely. You ignore the screams of your mother and sister asking you to stay away from Aemond, you are really angry now that Aemond has crossed the line.

"What are you waiting for? kill me now” you could see Aemond smile a little and it made your stomach turn, how could he be this calm when there was a knife at his neck?

"You think I can't do it, huh? You're wrong husband, I really can" once again you pressed the knife deep into his neck which you guaranteed might have hurt him because you could see the change in his expression a second ago.

You continued to stare at him sharply and angrily, but suddenly you dropped the knife in your hand. You may be angry and disappointed, but you still love him. he looked at you in shock and you ran out.

You ignored everyone's whispers and stares as you ran towards your chambers, you no longer cared what they said. As soon as you enter your chambers, you throw everything and scream.

You ignore the knock that comes from outside the door, you feel empty, you feel weak, your husband, the person you love has a child with someone else. A bastard, news that you can deny as strongly as possible, but it turns out that today the woman, Alys, brought their son and you saw him. A son that Aemond longed for was in her arms.

Suddenly your world was destroyed, the dreams you had created together with Aemond suddenly collapsed. You kept crying and screaming until your throat felt hoarse, You decided to stay in your chambers, you wouldn't come out to anyone. even your mother and your twin sister.

“My love? can you let me in?” You hear the soft voice of your mother who has been begging you to come in for three days, but you still hold on firmly and don't let her in.

you can hear her breath before she knocks again, “you should at least eat, I'm worried about your health love.” You remained silent, you hadn't even touched the food she brought you yesterday.

when night falls, your mother still continues to persuade you to open the door. This time she was accompanied by your sister, Haelena. “y/n.. please open the door, talk to me” but they noticed that your chambers door was no longer locked.

When they opened the door to your room, your mother screamed hysterically when she saw your current condition. You are lying on the floor with blood coming out from between your legs, there are also bloodstains on your mattress, there are visible tear marks on your cheeks and soft sobs are also coming out of your mouth.

"M- mother.. what happened?" that's all you can ask, Haelena ran out to call the Maester while your mother shouted for Aemond. You slowly closed your eyes making your mother panic even more and suddenly everything went dark.

You lie on the bed, your mother and sister always visit and even accompany you. It's been almost two days since you were unconscious after that incident, the incident where you lost your first child who you didn't even know was growing inside you.

When you find out that you have just had a miscarriage, you feel very useless, you feel broken, and feel empty. you blamed yourself until your mother told the Maester to give you medicine to help you sleep.

You growled as you felt extremely dizzy, you blinked your eyes and looked around you. until your eyes fell on Aemond who was standing near the fireplace, he looked at you with a blank but sharp gaze.

“What are you doing here? I don't want to meet you” you spat at him as he walk closer to your bed. You were shocked when you felt his big hands grip your cheeks roughly, you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“because of you, I lost my child. because of your stupid and childish attitude, I lost my heir”

You looked at him in disbelief and anger, tears rolling down your cheeks now. You let go of his hand with all the strength you have, you're angry, you're furious. Not only does he blame you but he also doesn't realize that the reason they lost their child was because of him.

“my fault? you blame me?! Don't you think Aemond!? why am I like that? you cheated and got that whore pregnant! you have a child with someone else! and you can still blame this on me?! Are you crazy!?”

you screamed in his face, your breathing was very irregular because you were angry. your eyes are red from crying, you can't understand how he could blame you?

“What?! now you can't talk huh? what I said is a fact! You got her pregnant and hoped I would forgive you because I love you?!? I'm not that stupid! I'm not like Haelena when she found out Aegon had many children from his whore, I'M NOT LIKE HER!”

Aemond just remained silent and continued to stare at you, he had no intention of replying to you and you hated that. you turned your head around when you heard your mother's voice “what is this? y/n darling? why are you screaming? you must rest"

You looked at him and smiled a little, before finally taking the knife that was on the left side of Aemond's body. Aemond was shocked and you pushed his body, he fell unguarded.

"I'm sorry if I was never the best daughter for you mother, I will always love you" before your mother and Aemond could take the knife in your hand, you had already slashed your neck.

Aemond captured your body, you could hear your mother's voice calling all the guards to immediately bring in the Maester. Aemond looked at you in shock and fear, you smiled and gently stroked his cheek. "I hope you are happy Aem, sorry I couldn't be a good wife for you" then your eyes close and slowly your hand fell from his cheek.

“no, no, no! don't you dare close your eyes! y/n! Forgive me! y/n! please come back!” Aemond shouted while hugging your body which was starting to get cold, he cried and whispered sorry repeatedly in your ear. when the Maester came, he told you that you were gone. and that night was the night Aemond lost the only person who truly loved him, you.

tag list - @danytar @looneytun3s @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd @eratosmusings (italic means that i can’t tag you)

#hotd #hotd imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd one shot #aegon ii targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x you #prince aegon targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #alicent hightower #haelena targaryen

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bangytell · 8 months

Text

A cheating way jk| m

Don't believe in fairytales, but we got our fantasies And it's me and you, no she. Doja Cat— You right

Summary: Marriage isn't always a good fortune, or perhaps its only the person you married.

Genre: Strangers to lovers, smut

Rated: mature

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Non idol au! Infidelity, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of the use of alcohol, pet names, mentions of Namjoon, oral(f! receveing), unprotected sex, praise kink and I think that's all

a/n: I know some of you might have already seen this, im re-uploading, please be nice with your comments. Enjoy

The music pounding waves through your now drunk body as you dance along to the beat, and you feel a warm body approaching from behind you, too drunk to care that you sway your hips along his warm body, he chuckles into your skin and you feel a tickle.

“Didn't know you're that fun to be around” his voice was deep and hypnotic

You didn't reply, but you looked as his curious look traveled up and down your body, the music was still so loud, and the dizziness of your thoughts made you believe that the best decision you could make is to kiss him.

You don't. You sit with your friends and try not to be wasted any longer. Your friends are laughing at some joke, and you focus your attention on the dance floor. He's not around anymore. You begin to feel that he was just some fantasy of your imagination.

“Are you [Name] Kim?” The question comes from the man next to you. It's none other than him

“Why would I give you that information?” he smiles wide, and your heart skips a beat

“Well, gorgeous, you don't really have to, I know that is you” you arch an eyebrow

“How can a kid know me” his smile never leaves his mouth as he answers back

“How about I show you?” You shake your head in denial

“Look, honey, just get yourself home and forget about me”

“That's impossible” you chuckle “Even if I leave, you'll be in my mind” You show him the ring adorning your ring finger. He chuckles as you look confused

“I'm not jealous” he leans in, and you get a soft sniff to his cologne. It's sweet and intoxicating

As the night continues, he doesn't leave your side he tells you more about himself and he listens as you answer to his question, he looks and focus on your eyes, your friends are on the dancefloor and after another five drinks and the smell of his cologne closer and closer to your body lets him leave a hand on your thigh, you're laughing and his face is next to yours, his hot breath on your temple and you smile as you ask him: “And what's your name?” he chuckles and leads a hand to cup your face

“Jungkook, and don't worry, you'll be saying it a lot tonight” You chuckle again, and he kisses you softly and hungrily his lips are soft, and so are his hands all over you.

The ride holding his back as he drives off on his bike to the nearest yet decent motel makes your stomach bubble up in excitement, you're married yes, but at this point there's no turning point.You arrive, he pays and leads you inside the room. He kisses you, and tries as hard as you can, to forget all your life's problems, and he notices how stiff your movements are and how difficult it is for you to live in this moment.

“Is everything okay, doll?” You sit on the bed and cover your face with your hands

“I'm sorry, you're probably thinking I'm pathetic” he shakes his head in denial and kneels in front of you

“Talk to me” you lock gaze with him, and he seems to have forgotten about the horniness in his body

“I don't think this is a good idea” he nods and you talk again “You're amazing, and you make me feel wanted, desired, like a woman and not like someone's trash”

“Why would you have such confidence in you?” You huff

“My husband, he's been unfaithful since the fourth month of our marriage, and we've been married for ten years now” you sigh, reminiscing how happy you were the first months

“And why haven't you divorced?” You huff

“It's a long story” his hands are on one of your thighs, caressing it as you sigh exasperated “Our families practically set our marriage from our cribs, he's been a heartthrob and I just play my part”

“Is there any reason why you couldn't leave now? You must have some money of your own, and I know you have a career, so maybe you, you can…” you hold his hands

“Don't feel so frustrated for me, we can forget about each other the next morning” he sighs

“And if I don't want to?” You look at him in surprise. He cups your face and leans for a peck

“Jungkook… I don't think this is good for you nor me”

“Then just give me this night, give me just one chance to make you think of me” You sigh. His sweet touches and kisses make you agree as he hovers your body on the bed.

His kisses are wet and sloppy as your hands travel around his back, discharging his shirt, you take a moment to look at his wingspan and just at the sight your cunt yearns for him. He helps you take your dress from your head and notices the lack off bra, he cups your breasts with his hands and your body quivers at the cold breeze of the winter, soon his mouth has your nipple around his teeth, licking and sucking on one another making you moan his name and he hums into your skin, as a meal he enjoys. One of his hands is caressing your stomach, traveling down to discharge your panties and your hands are pulling his hair, the sound of his mouth making a wet mess all around your breasts makes you shiver. And he adores the taste of you, the smell of your perfume as he leaves a trail of kisses making his way to your pussy.

He might be young but he knows exactly where and how to get you started, his tongue presses against your clit and loud pants leaves your mouth, soon, his licks become precise and slowly. He's taking his time eating you out, making your toes curling, and a moaning mess. Your hands are once again on his hair, swirling the strands of hair as you moan and mewl his name.

He adores the way you say his name, the saccharine moans that leave your mouth and the way one of your hands is gripping the sheets in a attempt so stop the way your body keeps meeting his mouth, the way you close your thighs and try to swirl around him, his hands hold you in place as you shout “ ‘m cumin!” He continues the pace he has as you close your eyes, gripping the sheets stronger and letting your juices go through Jungkook's tongue. You're panting as he pulls his pants down, he gets you comfortable as his tip slides against your clit and he moans at the sloppiness of your cunt. He gets inside of you with a guttural sound from his mouth, he grips from your arms as he pounds into you, harder yet slow.

“You take me in so well… almost like ngh… almost like your pussy made for me” he moans your name and looks in your eyes, he enjoys the way you're not able to maintain the contact, the way you're saying his name and the way your skin sounds every time he crashes into you.

he's pounding, bullying your walls as you scream at the overstimulation, his hands are now around your neck and you know he's done this before, by the way you're feeling the lack of blood through your head, his pace fastens, his movements are less precise and he cums into you with a guttural moan. The weight of his body on you and the heavy panting makes you feel in bliss. He chuckles as he pulls away from you and the sticky feeling has him giving you a worried look.

“Don't worry ‘bout it” you chuckle, he gives you your clothes and as you dress you feel his gaze upon you “you're going to wear me out”

“You're so beautiful” you chuckle and pat the empty space in bed, he lays with you and cuddles as you doze off to sleep.

In the morning the bed was empty, only a small trace of his cologne makes you remember the night before. There's a small note on the nightstand, he has pretty handwriting.

If you still want to give me moments to remember, call me

His phone number with a small heart drawing.

The ride home was automatic, nobody was waiting for your arrival and that made your heart clench.

You call the number on the note, wondering if it was the right decision, you're getting yourself full of bad decisions.

“Hey, doll” you smile

“How did you know it was me” he chuckles

“I've been answering every call from my work hoping that it was finally you” your heart skip a beat

“Are you free tonight?” you bite your under lip anxiously

“For you, I'm free now” you chuckle

“No Jungkook, I have some meetings today, so at night maybe…” he might believe I'm pathetic

“Alright, but I'll take you to dinner before, don't worry I'll text you the address, bye doll” he hangs up and you hear your front door opening, is your husband.

“Hey [name] I'm just looking for something don't wait for me tonight” you huff

“Your mom called, she wanted to know if-...” he cuts you mid sentence

“I know, she called me earlier, since you can't leave even a text” you scoff

“Go to hell Namjoon” he smiles and grabs his coat on the door

“Already there babe” a loud thud leaves you alone in that big house again.

Your day is filled with the reminiscence of the memories from the amazing night he gave you. You have a smile like no other, and as the night arrives, you're back at your house. He texted the address of a nice restaurant, you hear the front door, and your husband appears at your dorm.

“going somewhere?” he grins, and you find that… odd

“not like you care” you answer bitterly, and he chuckles

“you wouldn't like to be messing with your perfect reputation, are you?” You chuckle this time

“stop acting like you even care about me, ‘m out” you leave, and his words are a muffled sound as you walk away, you won't allow him to walk you like that ever again.

The restaurant is further away than what you had in mind, but everything looks perfect as you arrive, there is a host welcoming you and you realize as the host walks you to his reservation that every table is inside a room, you couldn't hear nothing more than the sounds of your heels hitting the floor.

A slide door opens, and Jungkook has a rose in his hands as he welcomes you inside. He gives you a peck on your cheek, and you feel the heat coming through them.

“You look beautiful, angel” you smile and sit down. The host has long been gone, and as you too chat about your day, a waitress comes in

Jungkook orders, asks you if that's okay with you and you nod in agreement, the fact that he's so considerate about you, he cares about your opinion, and overall he just seems so good to be true.

The night goes smoothly, you laugh and be touchy with him all the time, around his chest, his back, his hands, and he does the same with you. It is an impossible task to try and keep your hands to yourselves.

“Is there a way I can have you tonight?” you giggle as he caresses your back, the wine in your system has you dizzy enough

“ ‘m here” he chuckles, you're sitting besides each other and yet, he pulls you to his lap, his hot breath on your neck and his hands are on your waist.

“You know what I meant gorgeous” you shake your head in denial and he kisses the gap between your neck and your shoulder, your body shivers.

“I do know, nevertheless, ‘m not positive this is a great idea” he nods, kissing your neck and stealing a sigh from you

“Don't think about it, do you like me?” you lock gaze with him and nod “Then just do it” you cover your face for a second, unsure of how this will impact in your future, his warm hands take yours out of your temple “ can't force you into wanting this but” his hands pull you to him, his hot breath now on your breasts as he leans for a kiss on your skin “I think that you shouldn't think about good or bad, but what actually makes you feel something” you nod and pull him into a needy kiss, his lips are always soft and his breath smells to wine, his cologne is intoxicating every reasonable thought in your brain.

After that night, many more had come, for a week you've been seeing him in motels and the restaurant, he texts you how much he misses you during the day, and he fucks you dumb at night just so you won't miss him that much the next morning–which you actually do–Two long weeks now and for this one night you can't see him, your husband hosts a party at you house and you have to attend.

You wear a beautiful champagne dress with your hair up and every guest gives you compliments as you walk through the room. Your husband has you from the waist as you try to smile to the guests he's going on and on about how gorgeous you are, and how he feels he won the lottery–all lies of course– the night goes smoothly, at midnight almost everyone is out, your husband is holding hands with a pretty young woman, he's too drunk to even care about being watched, you say goodbye to your guests as you see them walk off, to your bed. You follow them, the girl giggles at some stupid joke he just made, you hear the door opening and you rush yourself to not let them use the bed you're sleeping in tonight.

“Namjoon, you better not be planning on fucking her on my bed” he scoffs

“It's also my bed, so I do what I'm pleased” you sigh, grabbing the girl from her arm and pulling her beside you

“Leave, both of you” she looks scared and you try to look calm to her, she nods and walks away as your husband stands and push you “You didn't just do that to me”

“You always ruin my fun” you scoff

“Namjoon, just take the guests room, and get away from me”

“I thought that by giving you someone to fuck you'll be more accessible” your breath stucks on your throat, you look at him perplexed at his words

“What do you mean?” he looks at you

“You actually believed that a young handsome man would wanna fuck you for free?” he spits and you shake your head in denial

he wouldn't, would he?

“You're too old for that” he chuckles and your blood boils in anger.

“Leave” he scoffs “you can't hear me? leave!” he stands and walks towards you

“you'll regret this” he walks past you and leaves your house.

you cry your eyes out all night until the sun travels to your eyes making you wake up, your phone is buzzing, the name of your mother on the screen and after a long sigh you answer.

“can you explain to me why Namjoon’s mother just called me all hysterical?”

“well mother hello to you too, good morning” you huff

“This is a serious matter [name] they’ve been our friends since high school”

“So, you're telling me that she’ll stop being your friend just because I don't wanna continue being married to his stupid son?” You scoff

“no! is not that, but… we have a business they are our biggest investor, we could…”

“if this is ‘bout money, I have money” she sighs, and your doorbell announces a guest “gotta go mom”

when you open the door, you wouldn't expect it to be Jungkook, messy hair and heavy breaths, and that desperate look on his eyes… It is also filled with guilt

“Am I welcome in?” You lift an eyebrow in response

“Why should I let you in?” You scoff, and his soft features soften at your harsh tone

“listen, I know that idiot made me look…”

“just as an idiot, such as him” he nods at your interruption

“ ‘m aware, but please listen and understand me”

“I shouldn't” he nods in response and gazes at you with his big doe eyes

“but please…” you sigh and let him in. You close the door behind him, and as soon as your hands are free, he holds them. “he did offered me money, we had a deal… and ‘m a stupid college student with two part time jobs he sweetened his deal” you don't talk, you only gaze upon him in disbelief “he told me to get you to bed and then he'll give me the money”

“how much?” he shake his head in deny

“I didn't got a penny from him” you look surprise

“but you…”

“I wanted you to feel the same way I felt by meeting you, you changed me, changed my view of the world, my life wouldn't be the same without you” his words sound sincere and his desperate look makes you believe in him

“he said…” your voice gets muffled by his lips, he holds and cups your face and waist closer to him

“Angel… please believe me” he kisses you once more, gently and caressing your blushed cheek

“I dunno Jungkook, I'm older than you and…” he scoffs

“You're only like eight years older than me and I really don’ care ‘bout that” you chuckle

“ ‘m only twenty eight Koo” he chuckles

“see? even better, and yes, keep calling me that” you chuckle as you give in to his embrace

“I was thinking maybe calling you… love” he hugs you closer, the strands of hair touches your face and his hot breath lights something within you

“You believe me?” you nod, even if Namjoon has told you something he's always looking for a way to hurt you, Jungkook kisses you once more and you feel like melted ice cream into his arms, your hands try to grip from his shoulders as the kiss deepens his hands wander around your back till one of his arms helps you from the knee for him to carry you to the bedroom–by your directions– You're quite unsure of the moment, you've only decided to believe in him, this is still being in an affair, he's still that young man and anxiety kicks in. his lips and hands undressed you as he kissed every inch of skin he found.

“Is everything okay doll?” you nod and he stops his movements “you don't seem good” you sigh

“I don’ wanna think ‘bout that now” you kiss him and pull his shirt and notice a playful grin on his lips, he’s so husky and big for a man his age, you caress his soft and warm body as the rest of the clothes that remain on each of you leaves your body.

You don’t care, it has only been two or three weeks. You know your feelings are true and even if he doesn’t feel it in the same intensity you can enjoy it while it lasts.

Soon his mouth found the way to your dripping cunt he licks and sucks in the way he knows you'll see stars sooner than later. your hands grip to the sheets while saccharine moans escape your breath as his tongue rides you along your orgasm. He licks off the rest of the juices that left your pussy and he hums in content at the sight of it, you're drunk of his features, of his husky body embracing you closer to slide his cock along your folds, with a pant and a moan from him as he slides inside your walls his thrust are slow and his gaze is

fixated on you, the way you are hugging him closer and your hot breath is on his ear as his movements become faster and harder.

“You feel so good doll…” he moans as your nails grip his back youre leaving mark for sure and he doesnt care at this point, he loves how desperate you sound as he fuck you dumb. his hands are between your ears and the silver chain moves along him, he’s so dreamy you wanna make sure you're awake to be feeling this way, to be so filled with him.

Jungkook pulls away from your body but his pace doesn't change, now his thumb caresses the nub of nerves to pull you into another orgasm, only the sound of your skin crashing each other's body fills the room. He praises at your moans, at the way you call his name in a desperate mewl. You need him deeper if that's even possible. You need him to fill you up and as he continues you soon reach another orgasm as he, with a guttural moan fills your cunt with his cum. You're dripping while he enjoys seeing the way your hole clenches in search of his cock once more, as if its never enough, cause its not. He gets up to dress again, you cover yourself with your favorite silk robe as the door opens and your husband gasps in surprise.

“You… whore…” he attempts to reach you, but Jungkook quickly steps up in front of you, he’s only in pants and you notice the way he’s almost bursting in anger.

“Don’t call her that” he’s voice is harsh and almost too deep

“And who do you think you are kid?” he tries to push him, but Jungkook doesn’t move

“C’mon Namjoon, don’ do this” he gasps and step away

“You fucked in my bed and you have the audacity to ask me not to do things” you scoff

“You've done it too, many, many times, and I just got tired of your cheating ass” he huffs

“I’ll ruin you” you scoff and step up from behind Jungkook “And your family too” you scoff at his intent to try to intimidate you

“Leave my house” you say in response, he gasps and tries to grab your arm “Aint saying things twice Namjoon”

“You'll never see the end of this” you huff as he turns and close the door while he leaves

He can’t scare you anymore, you made sure to have things your way, to have most things under your name and his attempts of threat would go unnoticed. Jungkook hugs you when he notices the way your body trembles, he kisses your forehead as he sits on the bed with you on his lap.

You sigh, feeling relief and warmth within you from the man holding you dearly. He hums in your ear as you calm down, you know you want to be with him, for real and as long as he lets you.

“Jungkook?” he gaze you and nods

“Yes princess?” you sigh fidgeting your fingers

“Can we… date?” he huffs

“No, I'm supposed to ask you that!” he holds you by your waist, closer to his body “Date me [name]” you nod and giggle at his question

“You're not… unsure, given how everything went between us?” he shakes his head in deny

“No princess, I wanna be with you, doesn't matter how things were” your heart beats with joy “Sometimes you gotta cheat your way through”

masterlist

©️bangytell please do not copy or steal my work, any translation can’t be done this is the only way to read it.

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts maknae line #bts drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook imagine

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

Text

How’s Your Head? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This has been in my WIP forever and I finally finished it. Once again, I am looking for a soft, kind, Bucky Barnes to take care of me and flirt with me. Is that so much to ask?🥲

This is slightly longer than my usual stuff, just FYI. The WC is 7280. And yes the title is a Drag Race reference. 😂

Warnings: reader injury (not severe), creepy men (jail), blood, vomit, flirting, fluff🫶

Bucky didn’t like the staring. The eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The old woman just a few seats down from him leered at him almost aggressively, like she hoped looks could kill. And though this was a common occurrence, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Another adoring fan…” Bucky thought.

He shifted side to side along with the rocking of the subway car and did his best to ignore her gaze- but couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave her a nod and a small, forced smile before heading for the adjoining subway car. Hopefully, he’d find an empty seat free from gawkers and onlookers.

But when he opened the door to the next car, he didn’t find the peace and quiet he’d hoped for.

“I’m not interested…” you said to the creepy guy sitting next to you.

“Oh, come on,” the man insisted. “Don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He rested a hand on your thigh and gave your leg a squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Fuck off, dude. Seriously?” You banished his hand and stood from your seat, “eat glass, asshole.”

But as you tried to make your getaway, the man grabbed you by the wrist. He pulled you close as you struggled in his grip, his face only inches from yours. “Maybe you should learn some fuckin’ manners,” he threw you to the ground, your head striking the floor.

Bucky flew into a blind rage. He made quick work of your assailant, nearly removing the man’s head from his body. And with the entitled dickhead desperately escaping to another subway car, Bucky made his way to your side.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat on the floor, slightly dazed. A thick fog settled into every corner of your mind and your ears stung with a sharp ringing. “Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t hurt that bad,” you lied. Yet another interaction with an unknown man. Yes, he’d shooed away your creeper, but you wanted to be left alone. No more strange men, no more men pretending to be “one of the good guys” before showing their true self.

If you could convince this random guy that you were okay, maybe he wouldn’t bother you. Maybe you’d be able to make it home without being touched by another strange hand. “Thanks for asking, but I’m-”

“Oh- you’re bleeding”. Only then did you notice the rush of warmth running down the back of your neck. Bucky yanked the jacket from his body and reached for your bloodied skull before quickly recoiling. “Erm, can I?”

You nodded- the motion made you wince.

With cautious hands, he used his jacket to hold pressure to your wound. He stared down at you with genuine concern, his brow furrowed with worry.

After a few moments, most of the fog cleared and brought you screeching back to reality. The reality in which a man you’d never met held his jacket to your bleeding scalp as you sat on the floor of a subway car. Pain pulsed beneath his touch and shot through your head. Warm blood dripped down your neck. But you didn’t care- all you wanted was to move.

Bucky watched as you struggled to get up and instantly tried to stop you. “Hey, careful. I don’t think-”

“I don’t wanna be on this floor any longer than I have to,” you did your best to stand, but the dizziness sabotaged your efforts. “People do weird shit on the train. I’d probably sitting in someone’s pee.”

Bucky gave it a thought and instantly reconsidered his cautioning. “Ew. Yeah. You’re right,” the disgusted look on his face nearly made you laugh out loud. He thought back on all the questionable and downright nasty things he’d seen on the subway- he didn’t want you on that floor. “May I?” He offered you his free hand and got you safely into a seat.

“Which stop is yours?” He asked, settling into the chair next to you. And though he seemed like a perfect gentleman, you gave him a suspicious glance.

“Oh- I didn’t mean that in a ‘where do you live, I’m gonna follow you home’ type of way. More like, ‘how many stops do you have left before you can go get some rest?’ type of way”

You let out a laugh that sent pain pulsing behind your eyes. Maybe this stranger wasn’t so bad. “Um, I still have like five to go. I think. I’m coming all the way from Coney Island.”

“Coney Island, huh?” A rush of memories hit Bucky like a train. Riding the cyclone with Steve and watching him puke. Spending all his money to win a stuffed animal for some redhead he had a crush on.

“Yeah, I got to hang out with a girl I know from college. Haven’t seen her in a while and she’s never been out there. It was actually a pretty great day until that asshole cracked my head open…”

Bucky grimaced. He pulled his jacket from your scalp to give the wound another look, only to be greeted by a continuous flow of blood. “I think you should probably go to the ER. You might need stitches. And there’s a good chance you have a concussion.”

You shot him only a nonchalant shrug, “I’m not worried about it. Plus, I don’t feel like going into debt so they can give me two Tylenol and an ice pack”.

Bucky liked your sense of humor, your wit. How you could be cheeky and sarcastic after being accosted surprised him. But he clocked the tension in your shoulders, the worry in your eyes. You were uneasy. Your glance darted from one end of the subway car to the other every few seconds; he knew you had to be searching for your assailant. Or the next man who wanted to touch you without permission.

“Hey, would you rather take a cab home?” Bucky said, pulling you from your anxious spiral. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to ride the train after what happened.”

“Oh, um…”

“I’m not inviting myself home with you-” Bucky shook his head. He was cute when he got flustered. “I just mean, I’ll pay for you to take a cab if you’re uncomfortable.”

How you seemed to meet both the bottom of the barrel and the crème de le crème of men back-to-back nearly gave you whiplash. But this handsome stranger had done enough; you couldn’t let him pay for your ride home. “That’s- wow, that’s really sweet. But you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“What if I want to? You seem uneasy… like you’re waiting for him to come back.”

You nodded.

“Then let’s get you a cab, alright? Next stop, we’re outta here.” He shot you a wink before once again reassuring you that he was not going to follow you home. “Is there someone who can keep an eye on you, though? Like I said, you probably have a concussion. And if your roommate or, um, significant other can sit with you for the rest of the night, that would be a good idea. Head injuries are no joke.”

“Well, I don’t have a significant other,” you almost laughed. “And my roommate’s out of town. She was supposed to get back around sevenish, but her flight got crazy delayed because of weather- now she’s not getting home for a few hours.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. He checked his watch and saw that it was only 8:04pm. He needed someone to sit with you for the rest of the night. Just in case something happened, you’d need a friend or loved one by your side. And if you didn’t have someone there with you, Bucky knew he’d spend the remainder of his evening worrying about the cute stranger he met on the train.

Just then, the subway stopped. Bucky offered you his arm and guided you onto the platform and up the stairs- all while keeping his jacket in place against your wound. Getting away from the train eliminated your unease. No longer were you trapped in the tiny space, your blood staining the floor. You had an escort in the form of a good samaritan, and a ride that would get you home without any further abuse.

But when Bucky hailed you a cab, your anxiety resurfaced.

“Hey, um…” you eyed the car as it approached, “Would you- do you mind riding with me?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side.

“I don’t know- I’m just a little nervous and I don’t really wanna be in a cab alone with another random man,” you said. “I know it’s probably inconvenient for you- I’ll pay for your ride home from my place.” The taxi neared the curb and stopped in front of you, sending your unease into overdrive. “Do you mind?”

Bucky clocked your wide eyes and shaking hands. Sure, you made jokes and sarcastic quips about what happened. But deep down, you were shaken. And he wanted to help in any way he could. “Not at all- I get it,” he gave you a reassuring look, “and you don’t have to pay for my ride. Let’s just get you home, alright?”

He held the door open for you and helped you into the cab before sliding in behind you- his hand still attached to your bloody skull. The ride was quiet, save for the honking of horns and cursing drivers. But having Bucky with you for the duration eased your discomfort.

“So, is there anyone you can call to come look after you?” Bucky asked after a while, “A friend, a neighbor, a family member?”

“I don’t really have any friends,” you said. “But not in a ‘I’m a loser and can’t make friends’ kind of way, I promise.” Bucky laughed. You liked his laugh. “I’m just still kinda new here. And all my family lives in across the country. Plus, I only know two of my neighbors. One of them is an old man who always tell me my skin looks ‘so soft’-”

Bucky’s nose wrinkled, “Ew…"

“Yeah. And the other is this girl who told me to shut the fuck up because she thinks my footsteps are too loud? So yeah, I don’t have many connections here yet.”

He sensed a little embarrassment staining your words and aimed to make you feel better, “Well I’ve lived here for quite some time, and I don’t have any friends, either.”

That didn’t seem possible to you. He was so likable. Quiet, yet endearing. And certainly, a gentleman. He made you feel safe. You wondered how his girlfriend would react when she found out he took another woman home.

Bucky found himself wondering how you didn’t have swaths of friends. Even after your harrowing experience on the train, you were so charming. Funny. Sweet. It was even harder for him to believe you didn’t have a love interest to go home to. But after what he’d witnessed tonight, he didn’t blame you for keeping to yourself.

“What part of town do you live in?” You did your best to conceal the optimism in your voice, the hoped that he lived close by. It was embarrassing how smitten you were with this man.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky said. “I’ve lived there for a while- save for some years I spent, um, away.”

Brooklyn. Nothing a quick train ride couldn’t solve. Though you weren’t too keen on the subway after the night’s events. “Well, tell your girlfriend that I apologize for keeping you so long.”

“I don’t have one,” Bucky said. Things inside the cab fell quiet.

“Oh. Well, do you-” you second guessed yourself, but decided to push through. “Do you want to stay with me until my roommate gets home? You know, since you’re so worried about me and my possible concussion and my lack of friends.”

Bucky stopped breathing. “Oh, um. Sure. Yeah. If that’s- if that’s alright. You sure you’re okay inviting a stranger into your house?”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, Sergeant Barnes”. You shot him a wink.

An immediate ringing filled Bucky’s ears. He didn’t know what to say, how to react.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Bucky’s mind echoed with the sound of your voice referring to him by name. He liked the way it sounded coming from you. But he hated that you knew who- and what- he was. And when the cab turned onto your street and stopped in front of your apartment, he nearly panicked. He reconsidered his agreement to stay with you. But you didn’t seem to mind having the ex-Winter Soldier so close. And he didn’t want you to be alone with a head injury.

Against his better judgement, he followed you to the front door of your building.

“My great aunt actually lived here back in the fifties,” you told Bucky as you fumbled for your keys. Bucky wondered how you could tell casual stories while dealing with a head injury and an ex-assassin. But as you continued to speak, he realized that he didn’t quite hear what you’d said. He was still reeling from your mention of his name.

And then he noticed you struggling. You were dizzy after cracking your head open, and a slight shaking rendered your hands almost useless. No matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t seem to finagle the key into the lock.

“Um, do you want some help?” He gestured to your keys and allowed you to drop them into his free hand. He pushed the old door open with a loud creak and escorted you inside the lobby- his hand still resting on the back of your head. It was quiet while the two of you waited for the ancient elevator to roar to life. And when the doors finally opened, he guided you inside and watched you press the ‘5’ button.

“So… how’d you know it was me?” He asked as the elevator slowly climbed to your floor.

“Well, when I first saw you, I thought you looked kinda familiar. But I couldn’t place you”. You laughed a quiet, bashful laugh, “Then you knelt down next to me, and I thought I was gonna pass out- but not from the head trauma. You just you have like, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” The head injury had you a bit loopy, a little too honest. Too confident. “I knew I’d seen those eyes before… and then it clicked. You were so chivalrous, you know? So old fashioned. I mean, who uses their own jacket to stop a stranger’s head wound from bleeding?”

Bucky shrugged. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I read a book a few years ago about Captain America and his efforts during World War II. And there was a huge portion about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… And that’s where I’d seen those eyes.” You flashed him a dramatic wink, “Truth be told, it was my favorite part of the book.”

A shy laugh made its way out of Bucky’s mouth, “Is that so?”

The elevator lurched to a stop and nearly sent you tumbling to the floor. You’d gotten used to the clunky machine since moving into the building, but your sabotaged equilibrium didn’t stand a chance against it. Bucky caught you in a careful, protective grasp before you could tip over. He gently righted you and searched your face for any indicators of discomfort.

“You alright?”

“All good, Sergeant Barnes.” You gave him a salute.

He rolled his eyes and escorted you into the hall, “you can just call me Bucky, if you like.”

“Okay, Bucky-” you said with a smile, “follow me.” You lead him in the direction of your apartment- with his jacket still plastered to your scalp. The man was determined to help you. You’d give him that.

You once again needed his assistance when it came to unlocking your front door. But when Bucky got the door open, he just stood there. He didn’t go inside. He held the door for you and insisted you go ahead, finally peeling the jacket from your wound. He knew he didn’t belong here.

You noticed how tentative he was about entering your home and beckoned him inside. “You can come in…” you said. “Are super soldiers like vampires? Do y’all need an invitation?”

Bucky laughed, “No. I just… I don’t do this kind of thing very often.”

“Oh, you don’t accompany injured women home from the subway on a weekly basis? I’m shocked.”

You flipped on the light and let the warm glow reveal your apartment. Bucky admired the art covering your walls, the books lining your shelves, the smell of some kind of baked goods lingering in the air. This place was cozy, welcoming. Nothing like his apartment.

While he was distracted drinking in the details of your home, you gave his jacket a once over. Blood coated the leather and smeared the lining. It was enough to make you nauseous. “Sorry about this mess… here, let me clean it up for-”

“It’s leather- I’m not worried about it,” Bucky shrugged. “I’ll just wipe it off later.”

“Ew, I think that’s considered a biohazard, Sarge.”

Bucky’s laugh echoed through your home- you liked the sound of his voice bouncing around your space. “Well, lucky for me, I’m not susceptible to biohazards. So, really, it’s not a big deal.” He shot you a wink and hung his bloody jacket on the back of a chair. “Let me take a look at your head.”

He gently moved your hair out of the way enough to expose your wound. He was as careful as he possible not to hurt you or make things worse. And using the dish towel you offered him, he wiped away enough blood to get a good look.

“It’s big, but not deep enough to warrant stitches. And it looks like the bleeding has finally come to a stop.”

“Perfect. I’m gonna go take a shower” you said. “Make yourself at home. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, except the kombucha. My roommate will murder you if you drink her kombucha.”

Bucky didn’t even know what kombucha was. “Are- are you sure you wanna go shower?”

“Um, yeah. Gotta get the subway-floor germs off me,” you gave a dramatic shudder. “Some of us are, indeed, susceptible to biohazards.”

“That’s fair,” he laughed, “I’m just a little worried about your balance… I think it’s probably seen better days.”

He wasn’t wrong. The floor did indeed seem to dip and shift under you unsuspecting feet. The room spun on occasion. The walls wiggled. But you needed to get cleaned up. “I’ll be extra careful. Promise.” You offered him your pinky and made him link his with yours. “But I have more blood in my hair than anyone should- I need a shower.” You left Bucky alone in your living room with a promise to be back soon.

It was strange for him, being in a stranger’s home like this. He didn’t get invited places or have friends to hang out with. He had Sam- and that was it. And while Sam was great, he never felt quite like this at Sam’s apartment. Something about your place warmed him, made him feel a little lighter. Or maybe it was you. Who was he kidding? Of course, it was you.

But Bucky knew this feeling couldn’t last. In a few hours, your roommate would return and send him home. And that would be the end of it. Of course, he’d be thrilled to see you again under better circumstances. But assuming he’d get that chance would only lead to disappointment. And so, as he waited for you to finish your shower, he did his best to remember this feeling just in case it was the last time.

“I said make yourself at home and you didn’t even sit down!” you said when you emerged from the bathroom. You found Bucky in the living room with his hands in his pockets, admiring your things as though he were in a museum. Looking, never touching. “Relax a little, sarge. The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

Bucky liked the way you looked with your skin still slightly damp form the shower, your hair wet and a little messy. “Oh, yeah- I just got distracted looking at all your…” he gestured to your bookcase, “your books and your tchotchkes. You have good taste- I like that you have two copies of Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Well, my sister dropped one of them in the lake at summer camp when we were kids…” you pointed to the faded cover and worn spine of the book in question. “She took a hairdryer to it and it’s mostly fine, but my mom made her get me a replacement. I just can’t seem to part with this one, though.” You plucked your water-damaged copy of Fellowship of the Ring from the shelf and flipped through the pages, “too much sentimental value. You know?

Bucky felt a small smile creeping upward- you didn’t mind damaged goods. Maybe you’d want to see him again after all.

“Can I get you a drink or something? I have water, tea, La Croix, wine…” you looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, no I’m okay-”

“Well, I’m going to the fridge for some water anyway, so you’re not saving me a trip…” you shot him a wink and began your trek to the kitchen. He followed in your footsteps, too much of a gentleman to let you fetch him a drink. And though he didn’t know what La Croix was, he took the one you offered him with a smile.

He followed you yet again, but to the couch this time. He sat a respectful distance away- as respectful as your small couch would allow- and taste tested the blackberry drink in his hand. It didn’t taste like blackberries. But he thanked you, anyway.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to check in on you after your shower- he was too entranced by the sight of you in your pajamas. “Hey, how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints.”

Maybe it was too forward of a joke. Maybe someone from his time wouldn’t appreciate crass humor. Bucky’s cheeks flushed red- and he burst into laughter. You joined him, ignoring the throbbing pain in your skull.

“It feels fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before” you said. “Are you just gonna make sure I stay up all night?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “uh, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh…” you grew a little embarrassed. “I thought you couldn’t go to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“You can go to sleep- it’s just good to have someone check in on you now and then,” he said. “And, hey, you don’t have to stay in here with me- don’t feel like you have to entertain me, or anything. If you wanna go to bed, I’ll be fine out here.”

“Well, I don’t know about entertaining, cause I think the concussion kinda fucked up my ability to tap dance,” you laughed. “But I wanna hang out here with you- if you don’t mind the company.”

He gave you a shy smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

Bucky wasn’t anything like the tabloids said. He wasn’t cold or scary or threatening. He sat on your couch, sipping a La Croix and admiring your throw blanket. He was the farthest thing from intimidating. He had a quiet calm about him that brought you peace. Never did you think you’d invite a man you met on the subway to accompany you home. But Bucky made you feel safe. He was sweet, he clearly cared for your well-being. He was, by all definitions, perfect.

“So, what do superheroes do in their downtime?” you asked. “Like when you’re not saving the world, what do you do for fun?”

Bucky shrugged. He didn’t do anything for fun. “Um, I have court mandated therapy appointments,” he gave an awkward laugh. “I read. I hang out with Sam when he’s not in Louisiana visiting his sister. And I have lunch with a neighbor of mine every Wednesday- this old man named Yori.”

“I’m sure he could say the same about you- that he has lunch with some old man named Bucky.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “yeah, you’re right. He’s- he’s about twenty years younger than me.” Bucky didn’t bring up the fact that Yori didn’t know his real age or anything about his past. About how the Winter Soldier killed his son. “Um, what about you?” He quickly changed the subject, “what do you do for fun?”

You thought it over for a moment. You hadn’t expected him to ask; most guys never asked what you liked to do for fun. They didn’t ask you anything at all, really. “Well, I also go to therapy,” you said. “My therapist’s name is Angela and I love her. And when I’m not ‘hanging out’ with Angela, I like to read. I like to go on walks. Oh, and I do a lot of baking- there’s a Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies on the island if you want some.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. He was off the couch quicker than you could comprehend and returned with the entire Tupperware in hand. But before he could dive in, he offered one to you. He was a gentleman, after all.

“Oh, shit, these are so good”. Bucky wiped a stray crumb from his lip, “seriously, maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

His praise made your cheeks hot. Bucky Barnes called you ‘the best he ever had’- it was enough to make you sweat. “Oh, I’m flattered. The recipe’s been in my family for generations, though, so I can’t take full credit, but I-”

“I’m giving you full credit”, he said as he finished his second cookie. “These things are incredible.”

You smiled so hard it hurt. “Well, I make at least one batch a week, so…” This was it, your excuse to see Bucky again. You could simply say that you wanted to bake him some cookies as a way of saying thank you, and then you’d ask him out. It was a perfect plan, really. A flawless, surefire way to guarantee that you’d see him at least once more. But as you tried to suggest baking him a ‘thank you’ batch, your mouth flooded with saliva.

Bucky clocked the way you grew suddenly quiet. He dropped his third cookie and inched closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Do you need something?”

You did your best to push past the wave of nausea. Breathing in your nose and out through your mouth, you willed your body to cooperate. You made a valiant effort, but it was no match for the clear and present threat of vomit. This was happening- now. You scrambled to your feet and made a beeline for the bathroom, swearing to yourself you wouldn’t puke in front of the James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky rushed after you and found you kneeling in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach. “Oh, shit- here, let me,” he carefully moved your hair out of your face, holding it behind you in an imitation ponytail. His touch was gentle, cautious. He didn’t want to pull too hard and hurt you- you didn’t need any extra pain.

He watched your body lurch as you wretched over and over, voiding your system completely. It was harsh, almost violent. And when you finally sat back on your heels, black and white spots danced through your field of vision. You were empty. Spent. Exhausted.

“Hey, do me a favor and sit against this wall, okay?” Bucky guided you backward until you rested comfortably like he asked. “I’m gonna go get you some water, and I don’t want you tipping over while I’m gone.” Even in your despondent, miserable state, he still made you smile. And when he was certain that you wouldn’t injure yourself in his absence, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He returned moments later with ice cold water in hand. “Thanks,” you croaked, your throat raw. Small sips of the cool water eased the burning. And a few more swigs rid your mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on watching a stranger puke tonight,” you laughed. It made your head pound. “But I appreciate the water. And you holding my hair.”

Bucky plopped down next to you with a “sure thing” and a “don’t worry about it.” But you’d heard those phrases before. You’d heard them from people who were never a sure thing, people who made you worry about everything they did for you. They’d throw their rare acts of kindness in your face and use them as ammo in an attempt to disprove the pain they caused. It was condescending. Manipulative. Hurtful. But Bucky meant what he said. All he wanted to do was help. You could tell.

He watched you catch your breath. Watched you drink your water in small sips. But he kept an eye out for another wave of nausea. He wanted to be ready in case he needed to hold your hair again. And he found himself thanking the universe that you’d invited him in; imagining you going through this by yourself broke his heart.

“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.

“Not the best... but I’ll probably survive.”

Bucky’s laugh filled the room, “well, that’s very good news.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. Bucky’s hand rested near yours. Your thigh bumped against his a few times. You swore electric currents passed between the two of you each time you touched.

“Hey, if you don’t mind, could you grab me some Tylenol?”

Bucky was up in an instant, ready to fetch you what you needed. But he found himself lost with no idea where he was going. He was so intent on helping, on making you feel better, that he was ready to run off without a map.

“In the cabinet to the left of the fridge,” you laughed.

He shot you a wink and sped off. And while he rummaged through your cabinet, you made an embarrassing effort to stand. You rose on wobbly legs, determined to brush your teeth. There was no way you were going to have vomit breath around Bucky- absolutely not. He was the handsome stranger of your dreams. And you couldn’t screw this up; not that you thought he’d kiss a random concussed woman he met on the subway. But you wanted to leave the very best impression possible.

Bucky came screeching own the hall, bottle of Tylenol in hand. “I didn’t know how many you wanted, so I brought the whole thing”, he shrugged. You shot him a smile in the mirror and gave him a muffled “thanks”.

He stood patiently in the doorway, waiting for you finish brushing your teeth. And when you banished the rank taste of bile, you accepted the Tylenol. You tossed back four pills, and before you could reach for your water, Bucky retrieved it for you. He was one step ahead of what you needed.

With the pills washed down your throat, you gave Bucky an expectant look. “Back to the couch?”

“Yeah, I mean, only if you’re feeling up to it,” he checked his watch. Noticed the yawn you tried to keep concealed. “If you wanna get some rest, please, don’t mind me. You can go to bed- I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, I’m good. I’m fine,” you took him by the hand and led him back to the living room. “I’m having a good time.” Bucky didn’t say a word; he just let you guide him. He hadn’t held hands with someone in- he didn’t know how long. And holding hands with you- a stranger he’d grown rather smitten with- was enough to stop his heart.

The two of you sunk back into the couch- closer this time- and kept the conversation going. Your thigh rested against Bucky’s; his arm curved around the back of the couch. You could’ve sworn he was playing with a piece of your hair as he talked. But you didn’t want to ask and ruin the moment.

As the night continued, Bucky was shocked. He couldn’t believe you’d only heard of a few of his favorite movies. And he’d never heard of any of yours. “Make me a list,” you said, handing him a pen and a scrap of paper. “And I’ll make one for you. A person’s favorite movies say a lot about them.”

“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what do mine say about me? The ones you know of, that is.”

A sly smile pulled at your lips, “they say that you’re a hopeless romantic.” It almost sounded like an accusation, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is that so?”

“That is so!” you told him. “But I’m gonna tell you a secret…” You lowered your voice, beckoned him closer, scanned the room as though in search of any eavesdroppers. “I’m the same way.”

Just as you finished your list of movies for Bucky, you considered writing down your number. It would be so smooth, so perfectly timed- but what if he thought it was too forward? What if he didn’t want your phone number at all? You scratched out your area code and handed him the list with a smile.

The two of you continued teasing and joking and learning about each other. You found out that Bucky loved peach cobbler. He learned about your passion for animals. And eventually you asked the question you’d been curious about all night.

“So, where were you headed?”

“What?”

“Well, you were on the subway. I’m assuming you were going somewhere.” You thought he was probably going to some fellow hero’s house for Super Movie Night. Or maybe a meeting with Captain America and Company. He had something much cooler to do than anything you planned for the night, that was for sure.

“Oh, right…” he cringed. “Um, I wasn’t actually heading anywhere. I was just riding the train to, well, ride the train.” It was embarrassing. More embarrassing than anything he’d ever done or said in his hundred years of life.

You cocked your head to the side, “Hmm. Interesting. So, is that like a hobby of yours?”

He wished he could take his answer back. He wished he would’ve said he was going to dinner. Or Target. Or literally anywhere. But no, he just had to be honest. “No, it isn’t a hobby. It’s more like… exposure therapy.”

“Shit. Sorry,” you threw him an apologetic look. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, no big deal. I just- I don’t really like confined spaces. Or spaces with a lot of people. It’s a- it’s a long story.”

You nodded.

“So, my therapist told me two combine the two and force myself to take the train- which isn’t great for my fear of trains,” he let out an awkward laugh. “Anyway, I was just trying it out. Seeing how it made me feel.”

Your heart broke for him. He had so many problems, so much trauma to deal with. And while you weren’t a psychiatrist, you didn’t think combining three of his fears into one nightmare was very sound medical advice. “And how did it make you feel?”

“It wasn’t great- this lady was staring daggers at me for ten solid minutes. But I did get to teach that creepy guy a lesson, so at least there’s a silver lining.”

You laughed. He loved the sound- wanted to hear it all the time.

“Thank you again, by the way, Sarge. You really rocked that guy’s shit.”

“I don’t like hurting people-” he shrugged, “It’s just something I’m good at. I try not to engage in violence unless absolutely necessary, you know? But that guy deserved it. Probably deserved a little more, but…” He gestured to you, “priorities.”

A warm rush flooded your cheeks. James Buchanan Barnes referred to you as a priority.

The evening continued as the two of you swapped stories. You couldn’t believe how funny he was, how many ridiculous things he did back when he was young. In the comfortable safety of your living room, he came alive. You asked for more tales of young James Barnes and his antics with Steve Rogers.

But as time passed, Bucky clocked the way you sank deeper into the couch. You nodded along with his stories and made comments here and there, but there was no mistaking your exhaustion. You leaned against his body more and more until your head rested on his shoulder.

And then, you were asleep. Completely out.

But Bucky didn’t mind. He sat still and quiet. He silenced his phone and yours. After the night you had, you needed the rest. And he was more than happy to help you get some sleep. He held in his laughter as you muttered nonsense under your breath- something about crepes and trench coats. It was perfect. Not the night Bucky expected, but the night he needed. And he’d stay in that exact position for hours if he had to.

But after only forty minutes, a loud crash scared you awake.

Two large pieces of luggage fell to the floor inside your front door. “Fuck Delta airlines and FUCK LAX!” your roommate, Emma, yelled. “I swear to god, there’s a curse on that fucking airport and Delta is the devil’s airline.”

She eyed the room for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene. “Ew, why is there a bloody jacket in the kitchen? And who the fuck are you?”

You stood, begrudgingly leaving your spot next to Bucky. “This is Bucky, that’s his jacket. Some asshole attacked me on the train. I split my head open. He brought me home and kept an eye on me till you got back.”

Maybe she was just in a shit mood because of the travel nightmare. Or maybe she recognized Bucky. But either way, Emma wasn’t having it. “Okay, well, thanks for bringing her home. But I’m back, so you can go. Now. And don’t forget your nasty jacket.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh. He mumbled a “nice to meet you” and stood from the couch. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you wished telepathy came with the serum. If he could only read your mind, he’d know how sorry you were. How horrified you were by Emma’s behavior. You couldn’t believe how rude she was being, how utterly unkind.

But your mind and body weren’t quite working together. You were still groggy, lost in the haze of sleep. And your head injury only made things more difficult. You did your best to formulate a response to Emma and an apology to Bucky. But before you could say anything, Emma was at it again.

“Seriously, dude. It’s time for you to go, get out of my house.”

Bucky was so flustered, so uncomfortable that he left without saying goodbye. Without getting your number. He shut down. He simply snagged his jacket from the kitchen and bailed. He heard you arguing with Emma as he walked down the hall. Heard you near-tears.

He wanted to turn around and say goodnight. To protect you from Emma’s wrath. Comfort you. More than anything, he wanted to get your number. Maybe ask you out. But he was too thrown off by the whole thing. He didn’t expect such a response- he didn’t even get to tell Emma that you needed looking after. He just ran. And it made him feel like a coward.

He pressed the button for the ancient elevator once. Twice. Five times. And when it finally arrived, he got in and slammed the button for the first floor. Ruining his chances of ever seeing you again. Sure, he knew where you lived. But he couldn’t just show up. You’d already dealt with enough creepy shit from weird men- he wasn’t going to stalk you.

Bucky spent the entire elevator ride heartbroken. He knew he’d have to go home to his empty apartment; knew he’d think about you for way too long. You’d probably forget about him after a day- maybe two at the most. And he’d spend months trying to get over the stranger from the subway.

But when he stepped out of the elevator, he found you waiting for him.

“Hi, um… what?” He was more than a little confused. “How did you- how’d you get down here so fast?”

“Stairs,” you breathed. “Faster.”

Bucky couldn’t believe you. It was romantic; it was something out of one of his favorite movies. But it was stupid. “That was… that was a terrible idea- you could’ve gotten hurt. You almost fell over earlier when you were just standing still. Why’d you run down the stairs?”

“Cause I didn’t get to say goodbye…” your voice was soft, heartbroken. “And I didn’t get to give you my number.”

Wordlessly, Bucky handed you his phone. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to chance ruining such a perfect opportunity. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, of all people. That you actually wanted to see him again.

When you finished, you extended Bucky’s phone in his direction- but recoiled as he tried to reach for it. “Promise me you’ll call?”

“On my life,” he said. The answer brought a warm smile to your face- a smile he wanted to see again. As soon as possible. And when you gave his phone back, he took a moment to stare down at your number. This had to be a dream.

“Do me a favor and go get some rest, okay?” He extended his pinky and linked it with yours, “Drink a lot of water. And even though she seems like she’s in a bad mood, ask your roommate to check in on you every now and then.”

“Yeah, like she’s gonna go for that-”

“Tell her that if she doesn’t, I’m coming back to look after you myself. And I’ll drink her, her um…”

“Kombucha,” you whispered.

“Right, I’ll drink her Kombucha!” He laughed and shot you a wink, “That’ll do the trick.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiggled your pinky with his, and stepped into the still-open elevator doors. “Thank you for everything. I’m really happy I met you.”

Bucky blushed. “So am I. Not under the best circumstances, but-”

“Worth it,” you shot him a wink. Just as the doors began to close, the two of you exchanged waves. And just before Bucky vanished from view, you threw a quick “call me” his way. And then he was gone.

You made it back to your apartment, nearly tripping over Emma’s luggage. She apologized as you grabbed a glass of water and nearly cried when you told her the story of your evening. And though you wanted to hear about her airport nightmare, you needed to sleep.

You got settled in bed and realized- you missed Bucky already.

And just as you decided to go to sleep for the night, your phone buzzed:

“Wanted to call but figured it might be too soon- seeing as it’s only been about four minutes. I’ll call you in the morning. And just so you know: even without the tap dancing, I found you very entertaining. I’m really glad I met you.

If you need anything at all, let me know. Feel better.

-JBB”

—————————————

Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll l @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi i @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

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deadhands69 · 19 days

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Tomura Shigaraki helps after you get hit by a sex quirk.

This ended up about 4x longer than expected so it's broken into two parts. Here's the first part, more of a precursor to the actual smut. Here's the second part.

Warnings/content/etc: Shigaraki x reader, fem-bodied/no pronouns, minor violence (Shiggy dusts someone), unestablished relationship, discussions of sex and implied future sexual situations, swearing.

MDNI

It’s too beautiful of an early summer evening to stay in so you, Shigaraki, Dabi, and Spinner decide to go for a walk. Even villains need to get out of the house for supplies every once in a while. Hoodies pulled over your heads, you can stay fairly incognito when you need to. Plus, when it’s busy enough out on a night like tonight, no one really pays attention to any one particular person.

About 5 minutes into your walk, the sidewalk widens and a small crowd surrounds a cafe. The busy area. Head down, you walk ahead of the group and move to pass around everyone. Unnoticed. Happy to be in the world.

Then you hear it.

A woman screams from the window one story up and you hear glass shatter as a figure emanating black dust falls onto the sidewalk ahead of you. Looking up at you, he smiles, sending a cold chill down your spine.

Glaring at him, you exclaim “hey-”

BOOM.

He burst into an inky cloud once more, leaving you and everyone else in darkness.

Screaming. Running. Shoving.

Not a big deal. You’re used to being caught up in the chaos, it was part of your job. The thick air was difficult to breathe in though.

And just like that, the dust dissipated leaving nothing to show for the commotion.

And you felt - weird? Is that the word for it?

You adjust your shorts and feel a deep ache. The rub of your underwear sends warmth radiating through your body, leaving you throbbing and empty. Fuck.

Thinking back to the news running in the background at the LOV headquarters that morning, you remember what you heard about some sexist d-list villain’s quirk: overwhelming arousal to the point of insanity. Also something else about it only affecting adult female bodies - which unfortunately includes you and quite a few other people on the street. Maybe you should have paid more attention but it didn’t seem important at the time. Could you do anything about this? There’s no time to think about it right now, revenge first.

You’d remember his perverted face but he was nowhere to be seen. Must have run. Looking around, you see Spinner talking to a girl - she looks nice. Dabi, always the opportunist, is already leaving with two girls on his arms. Tomura, standing by you looking just as confused as everyone else.

Accessing your surroundings further, you see where he went.

If you were trying to escape, you’d run down the alley behind the dumpsters. It was dimly lit. A much better hiding place than the busy sidewalk with all the streetlights. Heroes would show up any minute now.

Quickly, you sprint across the street, using one arm to launch yourself over the trash. A shadow of a human is visible ahead of you, you were correct. He begins to run when he sees you but you already have the momentum. Out of options, he disappears into a small stairwell.

Cornered, you stand in front of him and -

Wait. No. You try again. And again. Your quirk isn’t working. What the fuck.

His creepy face breaks into a laugh “Oh, that’s part of it. Before chasing someone down a dark alleyway, shouldn’t you at least know all of what their quirk does?”

Everything goes black and you’re once again left coughing. He activated his quirk again??

You feel someone push you out of the way. As the black cloud disappears into grey dust, Tomura Shigaraki looks over his shoulder at you. You know exactly what happened.

A wave of dizziness hits you when you stand and you feel a rush of heat through your body once more.

You see him do this all the time. Is this somehow hotter than usual? Or is it just the effects of the quirk? Both?

“You got hit twice?” he asks, slightly scolding.

“My - my quirk won’t work.”

A voice down the alleyway echoes between the buildings. Time’s up. The two of you leave quickly, opting to walk through the park to avoid streets that were certain to be full of heroes now.

“May cause dizziness, loss of mental clarity, and extreme arousal” Shigaraki read from his phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like a bad prescription commercial” you laugh, still unsure how to feel.

It felt better having him here though. You were used to walking home together. The league would usually split off in their own directions and more often than not, you’d somehow end up with Shigaraki. It feels nice. Familiar. He was usually much more quiet though.

“It looks like his quirk is unregistered, so there’s not a lot here. Maybe some news articles will have more.” Shigaraki mumbles into his hair before continuing his research. “According to this, it gets neutralized by...” he trails off, his face reddening.

“What fixes it?” you ask, already having an idea of what the answer is.

“Sex.” he says, wide eyes quickly glancing from under his hair at your reaction. “Can’t I just do it myself?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. This other article has more on that. Oh, definitely not. There’s a whole psych ward of people who tried. It’s pretty fucked up, want to see?” “No, I’ll see that soon enough.” you mumble to yourself.

You sigh and pick up the pace. Unsure why you’re walking so fast or where you’re going, it’s not like you’re about to spend your last sane moments begging some random to fuck you. You wouldn’t let yourself be that desperate. Even if you did, you’re a villain and you know your personality can come across cold to strangers - it probably wouldn’t work even if you did try.

You continue what feels like a death march to nowhere.

Without warning, the world shifts and the dizziness worsens, forcing you to lean into a cherry blossom tree before sliding your weight to the ground. Staring up at the puffy pink branches above, it seems nice. If this is the end, so be it. You could do without the overwhelming horniness but it could be worse. You watch as each cluster of flowers splits in two and spins like a kaleidoscope.

Two fingers tapping your shoulder pull you back to reality. Bringing your eyes back down, you see a sky blue outline with vivid red eyes seated in front of you. Blinking, Shigaraki comes into focus.

“I could help you, you know, if you want it.” He looks mildly annoyed, focusing hard on the ground.

You couldn’t believe your ears.

In a daze, you try to process what you’ve heard. “Like…sex?”

“Yeah.” he rolls his eyes, toying with a blade of grass.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Every once in a while, you’d be out doing league things when you caught him at the right angle and couldn’t help but stare. Or when he brushed past you in the hallway, moving close enough for your heart to feel like it would jump out of your throat. Sometimes, you even thought you saw him staring back but pushed those thoughts aside. He was always busy and seemed to care more about world destruction and video games than real human interaction. Maybe he was just being nice. He does a lot for the league, you’re sure he’d miss your help but is that enough to-

“Hey!” he waves you out of your thoughts. “It’s getting late, y/n. Do you want my help or not?” He sounds irritated but looks flustered. Eyes still to the ground, you watch the grass he’d been playing with decay between his fingers. Before you can answer, he added “I can try to make it fast for you but I also get if you don’t want me to touch you.”

“Oh.” He must have taken your slow reaction for rejection. “It’s not like that, I’m just - trying to figure this out. Yeah. I’d love your help.” you say before realizing how much you really mean it.

“Okay, yeah. Well, you better get off the ground then and we can go home.” he says trying to hide nervousness under a gruff front.

You press yourself slowly up the tree and make a single step before stumbling. “Dizzy. And like really out of it. Fuck.” you mumble to yourself. You want to curl up on the ground but his arm steadies you and you lean most of your weight into him. He starts walking again, basically carrying you.

It had been a long time since anyone had actually touched you, plus getting hit by a sex quirk two times made you really notice his touch. His toned arms through his sweatshirt, holding you as you made your way back. You looked up into the corner of his neck. His jaw. His chapped but full lips. You fought the urge to kiss him.

Is this actually happening?

pt 2 here

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x smut #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #my hero academia smut #tomura shigaraki x you #bnha smut #league of villains x reader

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inluvwcaitvi · 2 months

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i love the way vi's entire demeanor switches up when she believes caitlyn has left the prison and that the warden is coming, most likely to beat her again, and the way it slightly changes again when she realizes it's not.

after caitlyn walks away after their conversation, she goes from her usually cocky, brash, aggressive, and self-assured self...

... to this.

the manipulative, cocky, and seemingly nonchalant woman who stood there just moments prior is basically gone in that moment. she seems to really be letting her true physical and emotional exhaustion show for a moment, seeming unsteady and dizzy/tired on her feet, like she could pass out or smth.

when she believes the warden is at her cell as it opens, you can see the way she makes herself stand still, no longer standing on unsteady feet and therefore hiding her weakness, also rolling her bad shoulder to prepare herself.

the way she turns when the cell opens is the face of someone cold, guarded, and ready to defend/fight once again.

as she watches/listens to caitlyn walk away, she seems to be truly processing that she's truly finally free, and that she isn't going to be beat again. her face, just slightly, begins to soften (you can see it in her eyes/eyebrows) and there’s a shift in her jaw.

her subtle character acting is literally just so so so good and so so so fascinating. i love this woman.

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volklana · 5 months

Text

My Woman. My Woman. My Wife.

Title comes from this song:

Request: All the sihtric fics😭 just fluff…mingled with angst. I just know he’s the most attentive lover ever. Always bringing flowers, making you laugh(bc his one liners are hilarious), sharing his furs with you… but I know he must have a temper. And he’s always gone away for so long. Poor rat boy probably thinks he’d be a terrible husband because of how often he’s gone for long periods of time. But he’s not😭 he’s the best husband ever. Anyway I got carried away, just all the sihtric things

@canyonmoon-2 I really hope I did your idea justice xx

Warnings: Details the loss of a baby and the grief in the aftermath of that loss. If that isn't for you, or it's too traumatic please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx

Not proof read but mistakes will be corrected in time.

Requests are open:

The ride back to Winchester seemed to be taking longer the closer he actually got to the city.

He was beginning to feel lightheaded with dizziness at the thought of seeing you again.

Sihtric was besotted with you, had been from the moment he laid eyes on you, catching your eye across the square, hauling your cart of produce to sell at the market.

At first he was too shy to even look you in your eye as he paid for apples he didn’t even need, but as soon as your fingers accidentally brushed, he couldn’t help but delight in the shy smile that you shot his way, as you wished him to have a good day.

He couldn’t help but offer to escort you to your homestead that night, he had claimed it was to keep you safe but instead it was to steal a few more moments with you, you had walked in easy silence until you suddenly stopped and turned to face him.

“You haven’t told me your name.” you giggled and Sihtric’s face lit up “You’re walking me all this way and I don’t even know your name.”

“You would let a man you don’t know walk you home and you never even thought to ask his name. A pagan man at that. What would your nailed god say?”

“I know you are one of Uhtred’s men,” you considered.

“And that is the only reason you would allow me to accompany you?” Sihtric teased.

“That is the main reason, but I do have others,” you teased back.

“And what would those other reasons be lady?” he quirked his head to examine your face and you smiled, that gorgeous smile his way again.

“Perhaps we should start with your name first,” you giggled and goddamn it Sihtric wanted to get down on his knee right then and there for you, “I am Sihtric, lady,” he smiled, suddenly shy and you considered him for a moment, “I am y/n.”

And so that became your weekly routine, Sihtric would walk you home from the market and you would chat easily. He would linger awkwardly outside your home, neither one of you wanting to say goodbye until the day when he got a sudden surge of confidence, Thor knows from where and sprung forward to press his lips against yours. You absolutely melted into his touch and giggled when he pulled away, his whole face lighting up with a smile, “I have been waiting weeks for you to do that Sihtric,” you giggled and for good measure he kissed you again.

“Sihtric, you barely know her,” Uhtred warned.

“I know enough lord,” he uttered shyly and Gisela considered him gently.

“You love her,” she eased after a while and Sihtric’s face broke out in a smile again.

“And she loves me. She tells me all the time,” he rushed before his cheeks lit up crimson with embarrassment, and Gisela couldn’t help her amused smile.

She reached a hand to Uhtred who frowned her way at first, a silent conversation happening between their eyes.

“Very well Sihtric, you may marry your lady,” he sighed but Sihtric had already taken to running.

“Thank you. Thank you lord,” he shouted over his shoulder and he was away to find you scooping you into his arms, peppering kisses to any part of your skin he could reach.

Sihtric was the most attentive man you had ever known. He loved you in ways you hadn’t even known possible. There was not a single moment you were together that his hands were not on yours. You joked that he should climb inside you and live in your skeleton more than once, but you had a feeling that he would’ve if he could. Opting instead to be inside you in the only way he could, as many times a day as you would allow, and you would never refuse him.

Nobody had ever loved Sihtric, no one had ever been tender with him. No one had ever shown him that he was worthy of beautiful things and you vowed to spend every day of your life proving to him that he did.

Gentle hands traced scars and kissed the parts of his skin that had been broken by his father’s cruelty and sometimes the feeling was so intense for Sihtric he could barely bring himself to look you in the eye.

“What is it love?” you murmured pressing kisses to his his worried brow.

“I have to go away with Uhtred again.”

“To battle?” you asked gently, caressing his face.

“To battle,” he confirmed.

“Sihtric, you love being a warrior. What is this about?”

“I don’t want to be without you. To go back to how it felt before I knew you. The darkness…”

“I will be here waiting for you. Right here,” you took his hand and placed it over your chest, “Feel my heart, know it is real and it belongs to you. I will be here, loving you.”

Sihtric surged forward and pressed his lips to your needily, feeling reassured that his woman would be waiting for him.

You had built a wonderful life together with Sihtric, and you were happier than you had been in your life, but Sihtric struggled with leaving you every time.

He was weary from the ride but the thought of you pressed him forward.

As soon as he and Finan dismounted, Finan urged him to come for a drink in the alehouse but Sihtric was furiously shaking his head and excitedly told him he was away to find his wife.

He burst through the door of your home, flowers in hand, calling your name but the smile slipped from his face when instead of being greeted by the sight of his wife, he was instead greeted by Hild.

“Where is she Hild?” he almost shrieked, panic coursing through him, making it hard to breathe.

Hild squeezed his arm gently and as reassuringly as she could, but her face was grave, and she led him through to the bedroom, where Sihtric collapsed down to his knees by your side, the sight of your deathly pale skin and gaunt face, enough to send him into a spiral.

“What is it? My love? My Life?” he was begging, stroking your hair, he wanted to pull away from the coldness of your skin. You were always warm, his warmth his sunshine.

“It was a little boy,” you whispered weakly “We had a baby boy, Sihtric.”

His head was reeling, he hadn’t even known you were pregnant before he left, nor had you.

“I couldn’t keep him,” you suddenly cried, giant sobs wracking your weak body, “I lost him. I lost him.” you were hysterical and all Sihtric could do was crush him to you and wrap you up in his arms.

Sihtric held you, letting you cry on him until you had no tears left, repeating that he was sorry, he was so sorry, and none of this was your fault, and when your eyes finally slipped closed he allowed his own tears to fall.

Hild took him into her embrace when he finally re emerged from the bedroom, and they made their way outside, where under the shade of a leafy oak, he found the small arrangement of burial stones, that he threw himself upon and wept.

“She insisted we honour your traditions,” Hild finally broke the silence. “I had Gisela’s help, but she arranged the stones herself, nearly killed herself in the process.”

“Will she live?” he finally mustered the strength to beg.

“She is very weak, and if god..if the gods are good, she will live,” Hild reassured

“She has to,” Sihtric whispered “Or you may as well place me here with my boy.”

You regained your strength over the next few weeks, slowly and with the help of Hild and Sihtric. Sihtric never left your side, fetching you food, bringing you extra furs to keep you warm and at night, he pulled you as physically close as possible, lamenting the loss of your warmth, for now you always felt cold to him.

But soon you were back on your feet again, well enough to walk, well enough to have Gisela and Uhtred over for dinner and well enough to make love to Sihtric for the first time in weeks since he had got home.

Sihtric was wound tighter than a leash the past few days, his face constantly pulled into a frown lately, and no matter how much you tried you could not seem to pull him from the depths.

“What have I told you?” he snapped suddenly, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, “You are my woman, there is no need for you to do these jobs anymore. I will do it!” he snapped.

You had been attempting to help him ready his horse, as you had done a million times, lifting his heavy saddle bag up to attach to his saddle.

You watched him silently as he roughly threw his things together. You were rarely on the receiving end of Sihtric’s temper but lately you seemed to be finding yourself under it more and more.

He made to mount his horse and you couldn’t help the phrase that fell from your lips.

“You blame me for his loss?” you stated but it was more like a question.

Sihtric stilled all action, but he did not turn to face you.

“That is why you cannot speak to me with tenderness these days. Is it not?” your voice was small and you fiddled with a thread on your sleeve.

“If you cannot love me anymore. If I cannot make you happy, then I set you free. I told you the night we first made love that you deserved to be happy, and If I cannot do that for you, I set you free. I set you free because I love you more than anything on this earth and I cannot bear you to be this unhappy”

“How can you still love me?” he snarled, turning to face you, wild eyed.

“I was not here. I left you alone. I left you to endure his loss alone,” he was clawing at the skin on his left forearm, leaving fresh nail marks, an old habit from when Kjartan would lock him in the cellar, knowing a beating or some other form of humiliation was coming his way. If he hurt himself first, the next hurt would never be as bad.

“Set me free because you would be better off without my weight around your neck. Set me free so you may find a man who can love you the way you deserve. A man who will never leave you alone another second of his life. But do not dare set me free because you love me. I do not deserve your love, not now and I certainly never did.”

You reached for him, but he pulled his arm from your grasp, your head reeling from his lack of tenderness.

“If you leave me now Sihtric, in this moment here, that will be the only time you will have abandoned me. The only time you will have left me when I really needed you.”

Sihtric looked at you conflicted, two mismatched eyes trying to frantically find the right thing to say.

“I can’t forgive myself,” he finally mumbled “And to think you could ever believe that I blame you for his loss. There is only one person at fault here and that is me. Because I cannot promise that I will never leave you alone again.”

“I knew who you were when I agreed to marry you. I knew you then, as I know you now and I know for every time you leave me you will always return.” He finally allowed himself to be pulled into your arms, and you tutted at the unmistakable scratches on his arm, he had been hurting himself for a while.

“Oh my love,” you cried “All this time I have thought you were blaming me, but you have been burdening yourself with the blame of this loss.”

Sihtric nodded in your arms and you traced your thumb across the scar on his face, before placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Neither of us are to blame my love, the gods were cruel.” he nodded in your hands finally allowing his eyes to soften, boring into yours and when he looked at you this way, you could always see the small, skinny boy who only ever knew hurt, fear and humiliation but never love.

“Talk never of setting me free again my love,” he begged, closing the distance to lean his forehead against yours “My place, my only place is here by your side. My woman. My woman. My wife.”

Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen thenameswinter99 foxyanon

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #volklana writes

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veronicaphoenix · 3 months

Text

talk some sense to me | n.s.

Summary: Everybody thinks Noah is a Casanova. The truth is, that's just a façade to keep his romance with his best friend's sister a secret.

"Nicholas' sister was off-limits. It was never stated, but implicitly understood. And maybe because of that reason, Noah couldn’t stay away."

one shot ✨ word count: 2.9k pairing: noah sebastian x reader (nicholas' sister) tags and trigger warnings: 'forbidden' romance', reader is nicholas ruffilo's younger sister, reader is a uni student, long-distance relationship (sort of), fluff, angst, implied and mentioned sexual scenarios (but not described in detail), open ending (sorry).

author's note: i wrote this in a couple of hours and i did some minimal editing after. i had this random story cross my mind yesterday and thought i could turn it into a short fic, but with so many wips, i decided it to keep it a one shot <3 maybe one day it'll turn into a fic, who knows. For now, I hope you like it! 💕

“This is wrong,” Noah whispers as he kisses her, his mouth trailing down her jaw and neck.

The way she tilts her head to give him more access makes him feel dizzy and lucky at the same time.

“So wrong,” his voice vibrates against her pulse.

Her hands tangle in his hair, and he revels in the way she occasionally pulls at it, sending a jolt of ecstasy down his spine. “Your brother’s in the next room.”

“Then stop,” she murmurs, her voice equally breathless, consumed by a sensation she can’t quite name.

But she can; it’s called Noah, her brother’s best friend.

“I don’t want to,” he replies, sucking at a spot on her neck he knows drives her crazy.

He hasn’t wanted to stop for over two years.

They know they’re playing with fire, especially tonight.

Nick is in the living room, the ongoing party keeping him oblivious to the fact that his childhood best friend, Noah, has taken his little sister to an adjacent room at the back of the house to devour her mouth and touch her in ways no other man ever has.

It’s not the first time.

Noah has been captivated by her long enough to be her first. If Nick ever found out, he would surely kill him.

His sister was off-limits. Always had been. It was never stated, but implicitly understood. And maybe because of that reason, Noah couldn’t stay away.

He’d seen her grow up, transform from a shy teenager into an independent, confident woman. He saw her reject boys and girls who weren’t enough for her, saw her move away to pursue her studies at Harvard. She was away for an entire year, only coming home for the holidays. Noah didn’t see her for over 365 days, missing every chance he had to see her. After so long without seeing her, he grasped why he felt so miserable, why he’d felt like something was missing from the moment she said goodbye at a party and he stood there stupidly waving his hand, wishing her a safe flight and a good time at Harvard. Pathetic, he thought.

Two summers later, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she joined the band to watch his brother and friends make music or play at nearby venues. She was no longer a teenager. Her hair was trimmed shorter, she had gained some weight and looked healthier, and the color in her cheeks and the spark in her eyes whenever she stared at something that fascinated her didn’t go unnoticed.

Noah thought he was out of his mind when he saw that spark every time she looked at him.

When the 4th of July came and the group was at a bonfire party by the beach, watching the fireworks, his hand had brushed hers as they stood looking up at the sky. She turned her head to look at him, and the smile she wore lit up his entire world.

She was the missing piece in his life, the muse behind all his writings, dreams, and songs.

Two hours later, as everyone dispersed, he found her alone, sitting by the shore, her arms wrapped around her bent legs. He was the first to notice something wasn’t right. She confided in him: it had been a hard year at school. She wasn’t sure she was good enough or if she wanted to continue her studies. She questioned whether it was truly her path, what she was meant to do.

The insecurity wasn’t unfamiliar to Noah. He reassured her it was just a phase, a cloud of self-doubt that had settled over her.

“But it’ll soon pass,” he told her, sitting down next to her. “I know how much you love what you’re doing, even if you don’t feel like it right now. You’ve been interested in that field since you were a kid, right?”

How did he know that?

“Nick,” he said, “he used to mention it a lot.”

That was a lie, of course. Noah had been paying attention to her interests since she was barely a teenager, always captivated by her enthusiasm and eagerness to learn new things.

By midnight, he let her cry against his shoulder, her face buried in his chest, wearing his hoodie, holding on to him with eyes full of tears. Unexpectedly, she kissed him, then quickly moved away, expecting him to leave, horrified that she had crossed the line. Instead, he grabbed her and pulled her flush against him, kissing her back. Not much later, he had her pinned against a street wall after offering to walk her home, his mouth pressing down on hers, one hand cradling her face and the other holding her waist. She kissed him with the same intensity, as if she had been waiting for that moment all her life.

That’s when she said the same words he was uttering two years later: “This is wrong.”

It was, but neither of them cared, and so they met again the next day, alone, for a walk on the beach. Noah bought them ice cream and held her hand as they walked barefoot on the sand, the waves lapping at their feet with the Californian sun setting on the horizon. They talked about her studies, about the band, about Nick. They decided to keep this (him and her) a secret. After the evening spent together, he kissed her goodbye and chuckled when she said she wanted to see him again, like this; that she wanted to have him all to herself.

He wanted the same.

It wasn’t the thrill of danger that brought them together; they learned that very quickly. It was a pull that had always been there, perhaps even before she turned eighteen. Noah had only ever had eyes for her, no matter how many other girls came and went. She had always been the girl from his dreams, and he made sure he was in hers from that moment onwards.

Two years later, she finds herself perched on a piece of furniture at someone’s house. She doesn’t even know the host’s name. Noah doesn’t either. But it’s her last day in California before returning to Boston to complete her degree, and damn it if he’s not going to spend every last minute with her, kissing her.

The problem?

Nick is also there.

For the past two years, they had been meeting in places where Nick wasn’t, at times when he wouldn’t wonder why Noah and his little sister were missing at the same time. It had been hard. The opportunities were few, and even though they never labeled themselves a couple, they behaved like one, even in the dark. Noah would call her right when he knew she was about to sleep, and she would text him updates on her studies and daily life, letting him know she wished he were there with her in Boston. She dreamed of going to cafés together and taking walks along the coast.

Noah had hoped to make that dream come true more than once, and that one time he took a flight to Boston to surprise her was well worth it. Her roommate was gone for the weekend, and Bad Omens had just returned from an overseas tour. He didn’t hesitate before hopping on another plane just to see her.

The most memorable moment of that weekend was probably Nick’s unexpected and ill-timed phone call. Noah and she had been lazily lounging on her bed, tangled in each other’s limbs, sharing stories, tender kisses, and innocent touches. When her iPhone’s screen lit up and they read Nick’s name, their hearts skipped a beat.

“Shit, he said he would call me to discuss our parents’ anniversary,” she groaned, putting a hand to her forehead, cursing her brother for such bad timing. She didn’t want to miss a second with Noah.

“Pick up, it’s fine,” Noah said, lying on his side with an arm draped across her stomach.

“What? No. What if he hears you?”

“I’ll stay as still as a statue.”

She eyed him suspiciously. She knew him well enough by now to know when he was just pretending to behave. “You promise?”

He lifted his pinky finger to her.

With a resigned sigh, she hooked hers with his and a moment later answered Nick’s call.

Of course, Noah didn’t stay still.

The moment she sat upright on the bed and greeted her brother, Noah started tickling her. At first, it was just a little, making her squirm and swat at his hand. She was still able to have a normal conversation, but then Noah’s ministrations increased and her laughter couldn’t be contained.

“What’s going on?” Nick asked from the other side of the phone.

“Nothing,” she said, trying to kick Noah, but instead, he grabbed her foot and took her sock off before pretending to want to bite her toes.

“I thought you were in your room.”

“I am,” she said firmly, sending a stern look to Noah, who lifted his arms and pretended to retreat.

Pretended.

Just when she thought he was finally going to behave, he undid the button of her jeans, eyeing her wickedly as her eyes widened. She mouthed a “no,” but it fell on deaf ears. Noah took off her jeans and removed her underwear. A moment later, he was settled between her legs, his nose brushing her most sensitive area.

She sucked in a deep breath, thinking she was going to die for more than one reason.

It was Nick who disconnected the call. The moment he realized she was with a boy, he shouted, “Ugh! You could’ve told me! This is disgusting!” and without a goodbye, he ended the call.

She was already lost in pleasure. Her iPhone dropped to the floor, and soon enough, all she could utter was Noah’s name over and over again.

But things weren’t always this beautiful and fun.

It got hard sometimes. Some nights she cried, and other times Noah was sure she would find someone else—probably another student her age who could take her out on dates and introduce her to his family.

It had been a struggle, but they fought to make it work. Every time she returned to California, Noah was the one to pick her up at the airport. Nick thought she always took an Uber, completely unaware that his sister had arrived hours earlier and was already in Noah’s bed, savoring the weight of his body on hers, or maybe his tongue between her legs, or the weight of his length in her mouth and his words of praise flooding her senses.

Despite their deep feelings for each other, maintaining a relationship that they refused to label grew increasingly difficult.

That’s why tonight they had abandoned all the rules and locked themselves in a room, mere feet away from the rest of the party—and from Nick.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispers as Noah’s lips trail across her chest. She’s wearing a thin V-neck tank top, and he can’t help but kiss the valley of her breasts.

“We have to tell Nick,” he murmurs back. “I’m fucking tired of this—of not being able to kiss you in front of everyone, of not being able to follow you wherever you go, of not being able to take you on dates in town.”

“He’s not going to like it...” she’s half-gone, half-present. She can’t think straight when Noah’s lips and hands are on her. But she’s faintly aware of what he’s saying, of what he’s proposing.

“Not my fucking problem,” he says, sucking at her sweet spot and making her moan. “I want to be there when you graduate,” he continues, nibbling at her shoulder, “to take pictures of my girl and use them as my wallpaper. I want to take you back to your dorm afterward and give you graduation sex.”

She snorts, then grabs his face to pull him away from her chest so she can look into his eyes.

“Graduation sex? Is that even a thing?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, smiling with eyes full of adoration, “but I’m willing to make it a thing.”

After a moment of staring at each other, their eyes soften.

“I want you to be there more than anything,” she admits.

“Then we have to tell him,” he concludes. “It’s time.”

She can do nothing but agree. He’s right. At some point, Nick needs to know, and so do the rest of their friends and family.

Noah hasn’t said he loves her yet, and neither has she, but isn’t it obvious? At least, that’s what she likes to think. She knows she’s been in love with him for years but hasn’t mustered the courage to tell him. A devil on her shoulder keeps whispering that he’s an artist, a rockstar. What if he eventually gets tired of her? They’re on very different career paths. What if he chooses to let her go?

If Noah senses her sudden distress, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he leans down again to capture her lips, his hand creeping up her thigh beneath the black skirt she’s wearing. His tongue is about to dance with hers when the door swings open.

“Noah, have you seen my sister?”

It’s Nick.

The room is dark, but it’s obvious he’s going to find out in the next two seconds. “She’s been missing since...”

As they pull away from each other, her face comes into view. Nick’s eyes widen, but he’s frozen in place. She jumps down from where she’s seated, and Noah steps back, putting some distance between them.

“Nick...” Noah starts, lifting an arm.

For a moment, no one says anything. The heavy music from the party thumps in the background. Nick’s hand is still on the doorknob, and he suddenly looks paler.

It doesn’t take much for him to understand. It’s the aura of comfort surrounding his best friend and his sister, the confidence exuding from them the moment he caught them, the shared look they exchanged a moment ago. This has been going on for a long time, right? They’ve been seeing each other behind his back. Who knows what things Noah has done to her?

��Nick’s throat tightens. When he’s able to react, he storms out, slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck,” Noah mutters, making a move to go after him, but she stops him.

“Let me,” she says. “He’s my brother. I’ll handle him.”

She searches for Nick for five minutes until she finds him outside, sitting on the pavement with a cigarette in his mouth. He doesn’t care about her apologies, her stories, her feelings for his best friend, or the fact that they were planning to tell him soon. He doesn’t want to listen.

It shouldn’t be like this. It should have never been like this. Not Noah and her. Not ever. They lied to him, deceived him to his face, kept it a secret. How many times had they laughed behind his back?

He’s never going to forgive them.

“Please, listen to me,” she begs.

He continues with his back to her, refusing to face her, to see her expression of guilt—or perhaps the lack thereof. Maybe she doesn’t feel guilty, which just makes it worse.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed this game,” he says, a cloud of smoking leaving his lips.

She’s confused for a second, then she understands: Nick is not going to believe whatever she says about her feelings. He also thinks that Noah is not the kind of guy to have just one girl. Nick has had to deal with the version of Noah that she and he had decided he would show in front of others: one totally uninterested in the little sister and completely into every girl they met at the club.

Nick thinks Noah is a bad influence on her, that he’s going to break her heart.

“It’s not a fucking game,” a voice says from behind them. She turns around and finds Noah approaching. She wants to tell him to stay away, to let her handle it, but she knows Noah is more stubborn than she is and won’t let her deal with this alone. “It’s never been.”

That elicits a reaction from Nick. He chuckles, a sarcastic sound, and stands up to face them both, letting his unfinished cigarette fall on the ground.

“You’re a fucking Casanova, Noah. Playing with girls is all you do.”

“I’m not that kind of man,” he says, sternly, maintaining his cool.

She was about to let panic take over, but Noah was keeping his composure on check, even though they’d both been scared of this moment for weeks, months, years.

“You’re not?” Nick’s voice drips with cynicism. “How the fuck am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to believe that you’re not using her?! That you didn’t get into her head and are playing with her?! That you’re not going to break her heart the moment you get what you fucking want?!”

His words sting her, as they do Noah. He wants to tell Nick that he’s completely wrong, but it’s not his fault. He and she had made her brother believe that he was that exact type of man to avoid him finding out about them, but now the consequences are showing.

Instead of trying to explain or justify himself in any way, Noah just says what he should have said long ago, what he should have told her. He’s honest and raw. He’s admitting what he should’ve admitted even before he had her naked under him for the first time.

When she hears him, all the fear she’s ever had about the boy she loves disappears, because finally, she knows he feels the same, that all that connection they’ve had and built for years has been real.

“I’m in love with her.”

It just a sentence, but it changes everything.

Taglist: @crossedxoceans | @somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel <3

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian x reader #brother's best friend!noah #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens one shot

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whoahoney · 2 years

Text

Knocked Up

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Oneshot

Summary: Reader and Eddie planned to never have kids, having dreams of travels and a honeymoon phase that never ends, until one rainy day when Y/n takes a test..

Content Warnings: adult language, adult themes, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, suspected cheating, fluff, Eddie being a baby hog

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n and Eddie were together for years. They’d graduated, moved in together, gotten jobs, and started a nest egg, also known as the rainy day fund.

They had meticulously planned their life together in order to avoid ending up like their own parents who seemed to fuck up at every turn, not to mention while having kids.

Which is exactly why they decided they wouldn’t have any. It wasn’t a hard decision, neither of them finding themselves to be baby people and hoped to give each other all of the time and attention they hadn’t received in their upbringings, wishing to travel and live a nomadic life.

Though they didn’t end up traveling right away, they knew they had time for it. They’d come a long way from the inseparable couple skipping class to smoke and makeout all those years ago; Eddie landed a job in a nice garage making a steady rate, while Y/n worked as a waitress at a grill downtown. They’d been diligent in putting money back for a rainy day or ‘something really really cool’ as Eddie would say.

And did the rainy day come.

Literally.

One rainy morning in April, Y/n paced nervously in the trailer, a developing pregnancy test in the other room on the bathroom counter. “How fucking long is this supposed to take?” She grumbled to herself, picking up the timer for the thousandth time as it went off. She yelped and fumbled with the knob trying to silence the ringing, tossing it onto the couch as she sprinted into the bathroom.

Her heart hammered as she picked up the test, the two lines reading positive making it cease altogether. “Holy fucking hell.” She breathed, the newly familiar nausea twisting in her stomach and sent to the toilet with a lurch.

Y/n spent the rest of the day hoping to figure out how to tell Eddie what was going on. She’d been ignoring the signs for a month, too afraid to face the music and finally put her mind to rest. The tender breasts, the constant stomach ache, dizziness, and of course the missed period. Eddie had asked her if she’d had her monthly visitor, to which she panicked and said ‘yes.’

She hated herself for lying, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her that her period was late until he asked. Truth be told she never really paid attention to her cycle before and this time it bit her in the ass.

Y/n worried about how Eddie would react; knowing he didn’t have any plans on being a father and how he’d feel about her lying about such a heavy topic. Part of her feared he’d be upset with her, maybe even enough to leave her.

She debated for a while between procrastinating and ripping the bandaid off, not knowing which way would be easier. If Eddie loved her as much as he showed he did, then this should be easy.

She decided to cook him his favorite meal to start, complete with a dessert that was his own grandma’s recipe. Grandma Edna was one of Eddie’s favorite people, her cookie brownies being his favorite because ‘It’s like Dr. Frankenstein decided to combine two desserts. It’s ingenious, the woman is a God.’ She chuckled at the thought while she poured the oil in the pot to fry the chicken.

As the oil heated up, an intense and foul aroma permeated the trailer that sent her stomach churning and her head spinning. Y/n held her t-shirt over her nose to fend off the smell that’s never bothered her before as she checked the coloring of the food and put it back in the oil for longer.

Y/n slumped against the opposite counter, the window over the sink shoved open as wide as it would go. She took deep cleansing breaths and did her best to push through, telling herself she just needed to eat something though nothing sounded safe enough.

At 6:00, like every evening, Eddie came home from work in his grease spotted uniform, calling “Honey, I’m home!” as he entered.

He quickly dropped his lunchbox on the counter with his keys and undid the buttons of his blue garage jumpsuit to strip it off, leaving him in his boxers and a tank top.

“Aw, you’re making fried chicken?! AND mashed potatoes?” His eyes bugged as he struggled to kick the fabric off his foot, carrying the rumple of stains to his lady, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in his arms the best he could without getting her dirty.

Eddie took note of the gradual change over the last month or so, how short she had become in conversation, how she had made excuses about not feeling good, running to the toilet all hours of the day; he really started to worry about her and her mental health, maybe even if her feelings towards him were the problem.

He decided to keep his cool, making sure he was doing his duty by her to give her comfort and space when needed, and only assuming she’s upset with him when she’s explicitly told him so.

He figured today was another hard day, her glum and sullen look on her face evident of her discomfort. “Could you help me get these out? I heard coke and dish soap might help.” He said, showing her the spots in question before tossing it towards the laundry room with an easy smile on his lips, one he probably wasn’t even aware of it was so common with her. “Uh, yeah, of course. I’ll give it my best shot.” She nodded and stirred the fluffy mash on the stove.

“Knew I could count on you.” He said before kissing her cheek on his way past, going to the bathroom to start the shower and let the water heat up. Y/n moved the chicken from the boiling oil to the plate she had prepared for them to rest, turning off the stove and thanking the powers that be she made it through without puking or burning anything.

“What’s you do today? Did you enjoy your day off? Are you feeling any better?” Eddie asked, her stomach lurching in response. Her feet moved before she could give any warning that she’d come barreling through the four foot by four foot bathroom they shared to puke in the toilet.

“Baby??” He questioned as she heaved the remnants of the saltines she managed to scarf down during the day. She wiped her mouth and tried to brace herself against the toilet to stand though she wobbled.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha, don’t worry.” Eddie cooed, wrapping his arms gently around her middle and pulling her to sit with her back up against him.

She leaned back against his warm chest, the linoleum floor cold on her legs. The shower head rained hot water, the steam started to fill the top of the room, and the pitter patter of the water drops thudded against the thick shower curtain in a soothing rhythm as he held her close.

“You need to go to the doctor and figure out what’s wrong with you, I’m done waiting, I can’t do it anymore.” He whispered, his brow crinkled in worry.

Y/n sighed, a sob escaping her lips as she did. Tears began to roll down her cheeks while she tried to gain composure, though it didn’t work. Instead she pressed a hand to her mouth and let the sobs roll over her body.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked as she turned her face into his chest, her hot tears falling against him as a realization hit, “Oh! Is it your period again? Already?? Are you hurting? I can get you some midol—“ He tried to stand, to go into the kitchen and grab some pain medication to make it all go away when she reached out to hold his leg with her whole body, another sob escaping her.

“It’s not that, Eddie. I-I don’t wanna tell you—I do! I do wanna tell you, but I’m scared. I’m scared you’re gonna be so upset.” She heaved, keeping her hold on his leg as he looked down at her, the confusion and alarm evident in his eyes.

Why did she feel so guilty? What had she kept from him? Had she cheated on him? Was that why she was throwing up for a month?

“Y/n, baby, you’re scaring me. Did something happen? Di-Did you make a mistake?” He said, trying his best to ask the questions flooding his mind without breaking down and crying at the mere thought of what they have being gone.

“I mean.. yeah—Yeah I made a mistake... We made a mistake, actually.” She trailed off, looking at the small heaping trash bin by the toilet. Eddie blanched and sunk back to the floor with her, still unsure as to what she meant when she started digging through an abnormal amount of toilet paper on top of the trash.

Before he could ask her what she was doing, she turned to join him by the tub and handed him a closed pregnancy text box. Eddie looked at it and then to her and cocked his head. “Open it.” She whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Eddie popped the top open and dumped the two sticks onto the floor between them, flipping them over so he could see the result window with two bright pink lines. “What does that mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice cracking when he reached just barely above a whisper.

Y/n took some shallow breaths as her body and face went numb with fear. “I’m so sorry, Eddie..” She mumbled, picking at her chipped black fingernail polish, still left over from the last time Eddie painted them for her.

“What do you mean you’re sorry?” He asked, his eyes filled with both horror and wonder. “What do you mean, what— I'm pregnant—”

“Is it mine?? I’m asking if I’m—Did you—Y’know, I know shit happens, I know sometimes people hurt the people they love, sometimes mistakes happen—“ He rambled in a panic, his eyes wide and a couple tears escaping from the corners.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, “Eddie, of course it is! There’s nobody else it could possibly be, I haven’t slept with anyone else in, what? Almost.. 6 years, now?”

She quickly counted the numbers on her fingers absentmindedly as Eddie threw his arms around her and laid her down on the floor, holding her to his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. His heart started hammering for reasons completely different than before. He couldn’t help the smile that refused to leave his lips, and the tears slipping from the corners of his eyes couldn’t be helped.

“Did you really think I’d cheat on you?” She asked with an almost quivering voice. Eddie shook his head vehemently, “No, no, no, just—you’ve been.. weird for a few weeks now and I thought I’d let you come to me since I was constantly asking what was on your mind, I figured if you were upset with me you’d tell me, you know? But then… you said something about a mistake, a-and the worst thing my mind could come up with with was you cheating but then the tests said you’re pregnant and-and you seemed so upset I couldn’t help but think—“

“Aw, honey, no.” Y/n cooed, her hand stroking Eddie’s cheek lovingly as she shook her head in earnest. Eddie’s cheeks shined with tears as he leaned his face into her soft hand. “I was upset because we’ve always said we didn’t want kids, Ed, we have plans! We can’t live with a baby on the road, we can’t see the world, there’s barely even wheelchair access anywhere, how are we supposed to lug a baby and stroller around the House of Blues?? And I lied about my period and.. I was so scared you’d be angry. Maybe angry enough you wouldn’t wanna—“

“Y/n.” Eddie said sternly, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her eyes to his. “I know I said I don’t want kids, I know this deviates from the plan, but I’m not angry. I’ll take this over you cheating on me any day!” He tried to make her smile, which he did with little success.

“Nothing could make me hate you, Y/n, you’re the best person I know and I somehow tricked you into falling in love with me. I wouldn’t ever do anything to jeopardize that.” He tried again, being met with her real smile spreading wide across her face to his delight. “And if there’s anyone I want to try to raise a kid with, it’s you… I really think we could do a good job together—and it’s not like we’re alone anymore! We’ll always have Wayne and the rest of our chosen family.. and I hope you know I’d never leave our family.”

And when he said it, it became real.

Our family.

“Our family?” She whispered, like a safety blanket was draped around her shoulders to make everything feel safe and okay. “Yeah, baby, you are my family, you always have been. And now we’re gonna be a real family, with a baby and everything!” He smiled and touched his nose to hers, gently cupping her cheeks in his hands and stroking her skin.

“I love you, Eddie.” She said in a whisper against his lips before kissing him deeply. “I love you too, baby. Forever and ever and the rest of time.” He declared as he flipped them over for her to sit on top of his lap this time. Their lips were warm and soft working against each other, the sweet taste of his saliva trickling into her mouth as they kissed. Eddie ended with a handful of kisses sprinkled across her face, their tears dry and smiles lingering.

“C’mon, mama, get in the shower with me and I’ll wash your hair.” He sat up and curled a lock of her hair around his finger, the offer earning him a forehead kiss.

“Already calling me mama, huh?” She teased as she tried to stand without him, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder before she could. She shot him an inquisitive look as he stood, holding his hand out for her.

“What? I need to make sure my lady always has help, even more so now!” He pointed out as he checked the water temperature again

Y/n giggled at his protective instincts as he began undressing. “We definitely gotta get out of here before Ozzy slash Axel comes.” He mentioned casually as he tossed his pants into the hall.

“Ozzy slash Axel? And what if it’s a girl?” She asked incredulously.

“Ozzy’s the girl’s name! You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be badass.” He said as he stripped off his tank top, revealing his pale torso as Y/n shamelessly ogled him, “We’ll see about that, daddy.” She teased, slipping off her shirt and shorts from the day.

Eddie chuckled at the nickname, “I don’t think I’ll get used to that.” He scoffed.

“Is it different than you calling me mama?” She smarted with her arms crossed.

Eddie turned back to her with amused wide eyes, “Uh, yeah. It’s completely different now. I’m not just your daddy anymore, I’m someone’s actual daddy now. Or at least I will be.” He glanced down at Y/n’s middle as she lifted her shirt.

She tried not to look at Eddie after she noticed her rounded lower stomach, something she assumed was just bloat until today. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to that, either...” He chuckled, not hiding his gaze at her abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m like two seconds pregnant, quit looking at me like that.” She mumbled with pink cheeks as she rid herself her underwear and stepped under the water with his help.

“I know, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t already look different. You said it’s been more than a month now, right? Your body’s already building a home, isn’t that amazing?” He asked as he joined her, kneeling in front of her naked body as he had a million times before, except this time his focus was slightly shifted north.

He held her hips in both hands, studying the front of her in a new way, turning her side to side as if he were inspecting her like she was the first of her kind. He couldn’t help his smile or the gleam in his eye as he looked up at her. “Y’know when I met you I thought the idea of a nuclear family was hell?” He asked as he stood, looking down at her while he moved all of her hair behind her ears and shoulders.

Y/n shrugged, “I, mean, yeah, still is.”

He smiled and tilted her chin up, her hair meeting the stream of water as he did, getting her hair all nice and warm and wet for him. “Yeah, well, as stubborn as I am, you were able to change that pretty quick.” He sighed, squeezing some soap into his palms. Y/n gasped softly, tilting her chin back down to meet his eye as he turned her by her shoulders to wash her hair.

“Yeah, I know, so soft and gross, ew.” He joked, smirking when he saw her shoulders bouncing with a chuckle. “But it’s true. You’re just—you’re so good.. at taking care of me, at being a person, at being a friend, you’re good. Great, even.. the best.” He whispered, massaging his fingers into her scalp and working the soap into a lather.

“Truth be told, I’ve been holding back on telling you because I knew you didn’t want kids and I wanted to respect that. Cause either way, baby, I’m happy with you, and I’m not making you have any baby you don’t wanna have.. so if this isn’t something you want, that is okay with me, truly.” He stopped his movements and held his hands on her shoulders to speak next to her ear.

Y/n turned to him again, her eyes wrought with longing. “Eddie, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But you’ll be even more happy to know I want this. Through and through.” She nodded in finality, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he brought her in for a tight hug.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you guys.” He mumbled into her shoulder, more to himself than to her.

After that, Eddie spent his spare time taking on odd jobs to make extra cash to add to the ‘rainy day fund’ which was quickly changed to ‘the baby fund’, while Y/n contributed half of her tips. The couple was satisfied with their growing chunk of money, the feeling of being real adults swelling their hearts with pride for themselves and one another.

They’d stay up late at night talking about the what ifs and the scenarios of late nights and early mornings and potty training and tying shoes.

Somewhere in there they got around to the deeper parts of their childhoods and dissected the uncomfortable and painful parts, figuring out where their parents went wrong and what they’ll do differently, some nights ending in an embrace and tears at the stories traded and relived.

One night, Eddie laid with his head on her chest, tracing shapes into the smooth skin of her hard and prominent bump as they watched Family Feud before bed. Like a ball rolling under a blanket, Eddie saw the skin of Y/n’s belly move as the baby punched or kicked a foot, sending their mother groaning and their father yelling.

“What the fuck!!” He exclaimed, jumping back in horror. Y/n laughed and held her stomach until the baby got comfortable. “They’re moving, that’s all. You finally caught them in action, I told you they’re strong! That felt like a fist or an elbow, I’m not quite sure.” She said looking back down at her now lopsided belly from where the baby rolled over to another side.

“Come look.” She whispered to keep from disturbing the sleeping fetus. Eddie craned his neck over to see what she was looking at. “Oh my god, babies are so weird.” He said with a smile and a gleam in his eye.

“Should I, like, push him back over?” He asked, resting his hand on the bulging side of the bump as she giggled profusely. “Eddie, no! They’ll move in a minute. Why do you think it’s a boy anyway??” She swatted his hand off her stomach as she took her turn laying on his chest to read the survey board on the tv.

“That kid is too ornery to be a girl, trust me. The grief he’s giving you right now is classic Munson boy behavior, and I’ll go ahead and apologize for how down bad you’re about to be for his brown eyes.” He batted his lashes at her as she turned to look at him in disbelief.

“You’re gonna eat those words, Munson, just you wait.

And when the rainy winter day came, Eddie’s words reigned true.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced. Y/n’s hair stuck to her face as she fought to catch her breath while the nurses prepared the baby to get his umbilical cord cut. “Alright, dad, just make a cut right here,” the doctor instructed as a nurse set their baby boy on his mother’s chest, Y/n’s body wracked with sobs as Eddie watched the scene happen around him and back to the scissors and clamps before him.

“ ‘S not gonna hurt them is it?” He asked quietly. The doctor laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, no, I assure you your wife and son will be just fine.”

‘My wife and son’

Eddie breathed a laugh, the color returning to his face after the last hour of Y/n’s labor had his soul close to leaving his body. He accepted the scissors and made a cautious snip, his eyes jerking over to the dark haired baby on his loves chest, relieved when he saw neither of them batted an eyelash.

The nurses took the baby for his measurements, announcing he was seven pounds and one ounce, nineteen inches long, born at 4:20 in the morning to which Eddie snickered as he held his girl’s hand and stroked her knuckles lovingly.

Eddie brushed the hair back from her forehead as the nurses cleaned the area and swaddled the baby, now clean from the bodily fluids he had spent his time growing in like a butterfly in a chrysalis.

“You did so good, baby,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, his eyes feeling leaky now that he got to really talk to her for the first time since active labor started. “I’m so proud of you. You, like, hulked out there at the end. It was crazy! And seven pounds?? That’s literally a bowling ball, you know?” He rambled in amazement as the nurse handed Y/n a blue bundle.

“Lemme look at that face,” he whispered, craning his head to get a look at the baby he waited to meet for so so long.

And there he was. Full little lips, his tongue poking out between them as he wriggled, his button nose wrinkling as he fussed, his face scrunched in frustration.

“C-Can I hold him? After you, of course, whenever you’re ready—“

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready, here, take him.” She smiled, holding out the bundle, too tired to keep her arms up and eager to see the way he looked holding their baby they feared having. Eddie quickly accepted the baby from her arms, taking care to hold his neck and feeling startled at how light he felt in his arms.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, running his index finger down the center line of his forehead, his eyes opening for the first time to reveal shining dark eyes, almost black.

“What is it? He got six fingers or something??” Y/n asked in a panicked daze. Eddie chuckled without taking his eyes off his son, his eyes prickling with tears.

“Nothing—he, uh, he just—he’s the prettiest person I think I’ve ever seen.. and he has brown eyes, I think.” He said quietly, finally looking up at the mother of his child.

“Lemme see!” She whispered excitedly. Eddie stepped over to the chair next to the bed as the nurses left.

The baby looked rather unimpressed between the two of them, their faces permanently etched in awe as they stared at his open eyes. “He’s looking right through us.” Eddie whispered.

“He can’t even see us, yet.” Y/n giggled, tracing her baby son’s face with her pointer finger, stopping to squish his cheek lightly. “It’s all blurry for him right now.” She mentioned, the baby’s eyes relaxing into the hospital lighting a little more and blinking away discomfort.

“So, what’s his name?” Eddie asked, pushing the front of his little hat off his head to stroke his thick curls that swirled against his scalp. Y/n hummed, sitting in silence until she looked over at their bag, his latest fantasy novel, just visible under a hoodie.

Eddie had been inseparable from the book every night before bed, sometimes reading the extra cool parts to Y/n, who loved to hear the adventures of the band of rogues that called themselves the Realm Riders.

“What about Ryder?” Y/n said.

Eddie’s ears perked at that, “Ryder Wayne?” He asked with a growing smile. Y/n giggled, “What do you think?” She asked.

“I love it! It sounds like he’s a knight or-or-or a cowboy, or something!” Eddie nudged her arm with gentle excitement.

Her cheeks warmed with her smile, “The noblest of his countrymen just like his dadd—“

Eddie cut her off by pushing his lips onto hers, their first kiss shared as parents. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie. You’re gonna be such a good dad to him, you know that right?” Y/n whispered, their foreheads pressed together as the baby settled into a slumber. Eddie swallowed hard and nodded his head reverently.

“You’re thoughtful and kind and loving and strong, you are going to set such a good example and-and we’re gonna give him such a happy home to grow up in. And he’s gonna know how much his parents love each other, and him, always, okay? He’ll have everything we didn’t..” Y/n whispered.

Eddie smiled, the tears rolling down his cheeks at the overload of affirmation and praise. “I swear to it..” he mumbled, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, “ I-I never thought I’d feel this way... I didn’t think it was real.. y’know, feeling like a real family. And now we are. Because of you.” He beamed at her with tears spilling over his eyes. “I hope you know I plan on marrying you the moment I can afford a ring to go on that precious little finger of yours.” He mumbled.

Y/n’s heart leapt, “You mean you already wanna promote me from baby mama?” She sniffled through the joke, his goofy smile stretching across his face.

“Absolutely. The best baby mama I have should share our last name.” Eddie remarked back, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Unless you want us to take your last name! I can do that. I’m cool with not being a Munson anymore, it might be good for me—“

“No, no, no, Eddie I wanna be the Munsons.. We’ll put it on a mailbox or something for the whole world to see, everyone in Hawkins will know we’re your family.” She smiled as his smile returned to his face again.

“My family...” Eddie smiled and shook his head in quiet disbelief at the words coming from his mouth.

When they arrived home, their friends were crammed in the tin can of a trailer home with a blue banner held up by Robin and Uncle Wayne that read ‘Welcome Home, Baby Munson!’

From the outside of the door they could hear the scuffle and bickering of the friends trying to get in place quietly. Eddie held his love’s arm to help her walk, his son in the baby carrier in his other. The two looked to each other and snickered, “Let’s give them a few more seconds, huh?” He asked, his soft stare flitting over her face.

She nodded, turning back to the door, the curtains jerking closed as she did so. “I think they know we’re here.” She whispered, nodding to the window as she eased forward to the wobbly porch steps.

Eddie held his hand up behind her back as she clutched the equally as trusting rail as she climbed. The door opened before she could turn the handle, the crowd shouting, “Surprise!” as they entered their home.

Y/n smiled, looking at Eddie as he greeted his family. Steve wrapped him up in a firm hug, quickly pulling away to kneel and peek at the fussy baby in the carrier. Dustin led the hoard of Hellfire members all chattering and asking wild questions:

“Was there a lot of blood?” “Did you watch?” “Did you cut the cord?” “Did they let you keep any?” “What is the baby?” “What’s its name?” “How do you know they didn’t switch it?” “Did you guys get matching bracelets?” “Does this mean you’re married now?”

Eddie tried to keep up with the questions as they all flew around him, his eyes searching for his partner as they were separated in the chaos. He noticed Robin helping her to the bathroom when he spotted Wayne, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at Eddie to come to him; the same way he’d done the boy’s whole life.

Eddie’s legs began moving before he told Dustin he’d tell him the whole story later. The baby in the carrier grunted, ready to be held or irritated by the noise.

“Why don’t we Munson men take a minute, huh?” Wayne patted his boy’s shoulder fondly, Eddie nodding with quiet eagerness.

Eddie led his uncle to their bedroom, setting the baby carrier on the bed before pushing the visor back to reveal the sweetest set of brown eyes that resembled a baby Wayne once knew long ago.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie started as he unbuckled the small seat belt from his son’s delicate chest, his little hands coming up to rest in front of his face as he pouted. “I’d like you to meet your grandson, Ryder Wayne.” He finished as he adjusted his baby in his arms, the baby fully awake and blinking, his eyes Looking from Eddie to his grandpa.

Eddie finally looked back up at Wayne, who was having trouble keeping his breath steady. His eyes prickled with tears as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded.

“You just really had to make a grown man cry, didn’t you, Ed?” He asked as a couple tears slipped from the corner of his eye. “C-Can I hold ‘em?” He asked his nephew quietly. Eddie’s eyes lit up immediately as he nodded, handing the bundle over to his uncle. The two men sniffled in silence, their eyes unmoving from the baby between them.

“Y’know, over the years I had my worries; that you’d run off, or end up with the wrong folks, that you’d get discouraged and quit school—or worse… Your little ideas have given my heart quite the jump start since I’ve had you, kid, but this one.. well.. this one might just be the best scare you’ve ever given me.” He chuckled as the tears ran more freely, looking over to his grown boy again to see matching tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

The two laughed and held each other close, admiring the sweet boy between them until Y/n opened the door quietly.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt—“

“Nonsense! Get on in here, darlin’, I’s just meeting my grandson.” Wayne said with pride, beaming down at the boy in his arms. Y/n took her place under Eddie’s arm until the baby scrunched his face up in a cry.

“Aww, there he goes.” Wayne chuckled easily before handing the baby to his mother.

“I bet it’s time for another bottle.” Y/n said in thought then looked at Eddie, who checked his watch before nodding at her.

“Yeah, it’s been two hours, he’s a hungry little dude.”

“I guess it’s time to get out here, huh?” Y/n asked Ryder as if he’d have a response. The three of them reentered the living room, the party noticing almost immediately.

“So it is a boy?! Max was just messing with us?!” Dustin asked as the boys looked amongst each other, Will dragging his palm down his face in annoyed amusement while Max and El snickered quietly.

Y/n and Eddie chuckled, the new father making up a bottle of formula while Y/n took a seat on the couch in between Robin and Steve.

“Ah, that is correct, young Henderson. Hellfire Club now has a rightful heir.” Eddie approached Y/n, who expected him to give her the bottle but instead he held out his arms, making grabby hands at his baby.

Y/n handed him over without hesitation, the baby’s fusses silenced as soon as the bottle was in his mouth. “Ladies and gents, I’m honored to present to you, the first of many Munson babies, Ryder Wayne.”

The crowd went wild as the grumpy little guy scowled in response, giving his best side eye before closing them and trying to fall asleep.

“The first of many?” Y/n scoffed, “Where did that come from.”

“Look at his precious face and tell me you won’t have any more.” He grinned proudly down at his son, not even having to look at his girlfriend to know he was right.

Everyone wanted their picture taken holding the baby, especially the Hellfire Club. “It’s our turn next, Harrington, wrap it up.” Gareth teased, his arms across his chest as he impatiently waited for his turn to hold his best friend’s baby.

“I can’t wait to have a baby,” Dustin mentioned as the club gathered around the couch, Eddie and Steve’s faces snapping to the boy immediately and shouting, “Yes you can!”

The girls wanted pictures with both Eddie and Y/n, and of course Wayne needed a couple with ‘his boys’, calling Y/n back into the frame after she set Ryder gently into his arms.

“Whoa there, Missy, you’re a Munson now, get on in here.” He urged through his drawl. Her cheeks burned as she scampered back up next to Eddie, his arm wrapping around her proudly as they smiled.

“Now let’s get one of the new parents and their baby!” Jonathon suggested, peeking out from behind the camera as Nancy gathered the Polaroids and laid them on the counter to develop properly.

Wayne grinned and clapped Eddie on the shoulder before stepping out of the frame. Eddie’s cheeks were pink from his permanent soft smile, his eyes beaming at the mother of his child as she looked down at Ryder between them.

“That’s perfect! Don’t move.” Jonathon urged before snapping the photo, which would hang on the wall until they had grandchildren to show it to.

Later that evening, when all the friends left with promises of returning soon, Wayne lingered behind, waiting for the perfect time to talk to Eddie alone.

“Alright, gentlemen, as much fun as this is, I have to go lay down.” Y/n yawned, patting Wayne on the shoulder, planting a kiss on Eddie’s head, and bending down to take the baby, but not before Eddie could turn away from her. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in feigned offense.

“Uh, taking him to bed?” She asked.

“No, no, no, you just gave birth, I’m on baby duty until you’re rested. Go! Shoo! I’ll see you in a few hours, mama.” He urged, using his free hand to swat at her playfully until she was gone from the room.

A lingering smile stayed on his lips as the men chuckled together. “I, uh, been waiting to give this to ‘ya,” Wayne started as he reached in his pocket for his wallet.

Eddie shook his head immediately, “No, Wayne, uh-uh, no way, we aren’t taking your mon—“

Wayne opened his billfold and pulled out a single gold ring, an emerald in the center of the setting. Eddie’s jaw dropped, only remembering that ring from his childhood. “Is that—“

“Grandma Edna’s wedding ring? Yeah. It is.” Wayne chuckled quietly before sighing and handing it to his boy, closing his fingers around it and nodding, more to himself than to Eddie.

Eddie looked at Wayne with wide eyes, a ring in one hand, a baby in the other, his life feeling surreal in this moment. He shook his head at his uncle in disbelief, Wayne nodding back at him, “Yeah, it’s really happening, son.”

Eddie nodded, tears welling up in his eyes for the hundredth time in the last 24 hours.

“I never imagined—not even in my wildest dreams—“ Eddie hiccuped through the brewing tears.

“I know, son, I know.” Wayne said, the grown boy laying his head on his uncle’s shoulder as he’d done many times before, letting a couple tears loose while he inhaled the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil lingering on his work shirt.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything—Absolutely everything.” The metal head urged into the old man’s shoulder, his baby boy sleeping soundly between them as the only father he’d ever truly known patted his back soothingly.

“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat… you’re my boy.” Wayne mentioned through a tight smile, his life feeling surreal, too.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

Note

are you currently open to doing reactions for teen wolf characters? cause if you are i’d love to see how you think stiles & allison would react to seeing a fem reader naked by accident hehe

yeah, as it says in my Rules, I love doing reactions and MLTs (especially cause they're fun, shorter fics that I can write quickly in order to get to know the characters better. they're a lot of fun)

so here we go

Requests for Teen Wolf are OPEN!!! Please read the rules first, though <3 also vote in this poll if you like Teen Wolf fics

How would Stiles Stilinski and Allison Argent react to seeing you naked by accident?

Warnings: mentions of sex/arousal/sexual desire (characters wanting to fuck the reader after seeing them naked), sexual themes but no explicit smut, reader is described as having breasts/is called a 'girl', mentions of Scott/Allison, mentions of Jackson/Reader (background, unimportant), mentions of the reader taking nudes/nude pictures, Allison's section is way longer than Stiles's oops (but that's because I've never written for her before and I got excited).

Stiles would be coming to visit you on a random Saturday - something that he did often. And after letting himself in with his spare key and bounding up the stairs to your room, he would hear music coming from your room and think nothing of simply letting himself in. He could imagine that you were cutely dancing in your pajamas, using your hairbrush as a microphone - something that he would tease you for, but secretly loved.

He hadn't even thought to knock. The two of you were so close - best friends since you were in diapers, having grown up together, gone through everything together.

So when he opened the door and found you standing at the foot of your bed, naked, rubbing lotion over your skin almost sensually - a towel in a rumple at your feet as you had clearly just gotten out of the shower - in seconds, it changed his entire perspective of you. Seeing your gorgeous breasts, the roundness of your thighs, the perfect swell of your ass, the softness of your stomach - it put nothing but downright filthy images in his mind. And in seconds, you went from being his dorky childhood friend to a woman he now desperately wanted to fuck.

He didn't get to stand there for long and stare before you noticed him, but the image of you so beautifully bared was easily seared into his mind forever.

"Stiles?!" You screamed when you noticed him in the doorway, and he felt so terribly caught.

His instinct was to turn and run, but he was dumb from the amount of blood pooling in his cock. He tripped over his own feet and rammed headfirst into the doorway - hard. He became dizzy from the hit fell to the floor within seconds, groaning loudly in pain (and embarrassment) as he clutched the bruise blooming on his forehead.

You rushed to pick up your towel to cover yourself, and then rushed to see if he was okay.

"Oh my god, Stiles." You sighed, kneeling down by his side. "What is wrong with you?"

Well, he could add 'intense sexual desire for his best friend' to that list now.

Allison loved having you over at her place. Between the chaos of dating and not-dating someone that her family had vowed to kill, and being trained by that family to kill others of his kind in the most traumatic and tiring way possible - you were a breath of fresh air in her life. You were the soothing relaxation she needed among the chaos.

She invited you over as often as possible because of this. Whether it was dinner with her family, studying, sleepovers where the two of you talked all night and ate junk food - you were over at her house often. Her family knew that the two of you were the best of friends, and they loved you because you were a smart, respectable, normal girl.

On this night, the two of you were having a regular study session. Nothing special - just sitting on her bed going over some homework. More so, enjoying each other's company in quiet while you worked individually.

"Do you have the notes that Mr. Hoffman wrote down today?" Allison asked you, looking up from her book. "I know he didn't want us to do all the problems, but I can't remember which numbers he wrote on the board."

"I took a picture of it." You told her, unlocking your phone and passing it to her. "Just flip through my camera roll, you'll find it. I gotta pee."

You slid off the bed and left her room for the bathroom, and she opened your camera roll looking for the picture of the blackboard that you had taken. She grinned when she saw that the first picture was of a random squirrel that you had seen outside during lunch. Very you.

Then - a picture of Stiles making an ugly face. Of course. He had stolen your phone during lunch. Then - Scott and Stiles. More Scott and Stiles. Then, pictures of your outfit that you had taken in the bathroom that morning at school. Then - wait, what?

A picture of you naked.

Allison's insides tensed.

It was a gorgeous picture of you, and though she felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to see it, she couldn't stop staring. You were laying on your bed, the morning sun pouring in through the curtains - it had probably been taken before school that morning. The picture showed everything from your collar bones to the tops of your thighs, your arm holding the camera high up to get a good angle of your amazing body.

Your breasts relaxed and your nipples peaked (it had to be from you teasing them up for the picture and not from the cold air, your room was always soft and cozy), your stomach so wonderfully soft, your pussy on display - showing off the dusting of pubic hair that you had their. Your knees pressed together, presenting your thighs in a soft, alluring position.

It made Allison's throat dry.

Before she could even think to keep looking for what she had actually needed, you came back into the room.

"Hey," You grinned at her as you moved to sit by her feet at the end of the bed. "You find it."

One thing that Allison knew by now - lying was useless and something she absolutely hated. You were one person in her life that she upheld honesty with as her greatest treasure.

"No." She said, taking a moment to re-moisten her mouth with saliva before she continued. "But - I found this."

She turned the phone screen toward you and your jaw dropped slightly before snapping shut again with a harsh sound.

"Oh." You breathed out. "That." You paused for a moment. "I - uh. Sorry you had to see that."

You took back your phone from her and locked it, staring at the floor with shame.

"I'm not." Allison said quickly. "You - you look beautiful."

It would be a few days before you fully unpacked what she had meant by this. Even Allison herself still hadn't fully acknowledged that she felt anything more than friendship for you.

You nodded. "Thank you." You took another moment. "I - just - I'm sorry it's awkward."

Allison nodded. She wasn't sure why she didn't feel as awkward as you did.

"Well - who was it for?" She couldn't help but to wonder.

She could only assume that you had taken the picture with the intention to send it to someone.

"Um, well... it was for Jackson." You told her.

The two of you had been texting a lot more frequently since he had broken up with Lydia.

Allison frowned.

"You are way too good for him." She insisted.

And that was the comment that stuck in your mind - that truly got you thinking about what your relationship with Allison meant.

#sundrop answers #sundrop writes #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #allison argent #allison argent x reader #allison argent smut

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neowinestainedress · 1 year

Note

hey i really wanted to request a drabble where yn is in a established relationship with jaemin and they kinda have this habit of watching porn together if this is really weird just completely ignore love ur writing bye

w!: watching p*rn together (ofc), fingering, spit play (once on p*ssy), handj*b, mutual m*sturbation, oral (m receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, cr*ampie, dirty talk, voyeurism/exhibitionism/fxf mentions, you get compared to a fleshlight but it’s only because i didn’t know if the description of the position was clear enough, there are no degrading/objectifying intents behind it

a/n: hi! it’s not weird but i’m not sure what kind of porn you wanted them to watch so i’m not sure you will like this + my bisexuality jumped out i’m sorry BUT if this is not what you had in mind send it again and i’ll write it in another way. once again, it’s longer than a drabble. off topic: this fuelled my want to write an mxfxf smut fic

It all started when Jaemin caught you masturbating one afternoon just a few months after you started dating, and then it became kind of a habit.

At first, you felt a bit guilty, after all, you had him and it wasn’t like something was missing from your relationship or sexual life, but Jaemin reacted in a totally different way. Asking you to replay the video as he sat next to you in bed and started copying the act on the screen.

You never imagined you would love doing that so much, so used to having only him to focus on him when you had sex, but something about it all felt exciting.

So here you are now, legs spread open on the bed while Jaemin is behind you, touching your body and teasing your clit. You can feel his hard dick press against your back, and you’d love to try to reach back and touch it, but you’re already too lost in the video playing in front of you from the laptop (as you decided it was better than the tiny screen of your phone).

“Fuck, babe, you’re so wet already,” Jaemin comments, teasing a finger against your entrance but without pushing in. “Just seeing her body got you like that?”

“She’s hot,” you mumble, moving your eyes from the screen to your boyfriend’s fingers, feeling your body heat up when you see them already dirty with your wetness. To be fair, you were pent-up and extremely needy these days, so the scene in front of you, and your boyfriend behind, weren’t helping at all.

“Mhh, she is,” he whispers, hot breath fanning against your neck before you feel his lips on your shoulder, “not like you, though.”

You lower your head, feeling your heart flip in your chest, but before the romantic moment can sink in, his fingers start moving on your clit, just like the man in the video is doing. The moan that rolls from your tongue is almost in synch with the one the woman in the video lets out.

“Do you think he’s better than me?” Jaemin asks and you furrow for a second.

“N-no,” you reply, toes curling as pleasure starts buzzing harder in your body.

“Yet, look at her, she’s already a whimpering mess.”

“I’m trying to — I’m trying to keep my composure,” you justify.

“Why? Do I really have to say it all the time? I want to see you fall apart,” he groans, lightly slapping your clit.

You shake your head, parting your legs more, but that position doesn’t last long since Jaemin bends your knees and keeps your legs parted with his own.

You shouldn’t be so turned on by hearing another person moan, but you are. The soft sounds coming from the laptop are making you dizzy and are a killer combo with Jaemin’s skilled fingers rubbing your clit exactly like you want and his hand cupping your boobs and teasing your nipples. So you come hard as you squeeze your eyes shut and roll your head back as pleasure runs over you, failing your task of coming with the girl in the video.

“You’re so hot, babe,” Jaemin moans, flicking his fingers faster after collecting more wetness that’s drooling out of you to ride your high.

Your hips squirm away, already feeling sensitive, but Jaemin forces you down in place.

“Turn around,” Jaemin orders when your orgasm dies down. “Just like her, come on.”

Your legs are already weak, but you don’t waste time bending on his legs, ass up and chest pressed against the mattress after you took a quick glance at the screen to see how she was standing now.

You squirm when Jaemin slaps your ass and then pulls the cheeks apart, your back arching more when he loudly spits on your swollen hole, following what’s happening in the video with no hesitation.

“You liked it?” He asks and you can hear the surprise in his voice.

“I guess,” you mumble, a bit surprised yourself that you find that hot.

“Good, I’ll try to remember that,” he whispers chuckling before his fingers start teasing your clit again, making your bite your lower lip to suppress an incredibly high-pitched moan.

“I want to touch you,” you whine, trying to search for his dick and having a hard time given the position you’re in. You loved doing this because you would mutually masturbate, but lately, Jaemin had this thing of turning this into a ‘worshipping-you-moment’, especially after you found those videos that were very much female-pleasure centred. And you have nothing to complain about, but you still want to make him feel good.

Jaemin chuckles as he parts his eyes from the video to watch your wondering hand. “Here,” he says, grabbing it and bringing it to his dick. “If it’s uncomfortable we can change position.”

A dumb smile of victory blooms on your face when you finally start stroking him, finally hearing his shaky breath and first moans.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you cry out when, forcing your eyes open to stare at the screen, you see a string of cum drip out of her pussy as he keeps fucking his fingers deep into her. The arch of her back and her plump ass bouncing back and forth, making you gag at the view. “She’s so pretty.”

Jaemin chuckles, curling his fingers into you, watching your body tremble underneath him. “Would you like to fuck her like he’s doing?”

His question surprises you, even if it’s not the first time you talk about having sex with someone else, but it mostly stays on a joking ground. Still, it’s not new to you that Jaemin gets turned on by watching or being watched, a clear example these porn-watching-sessions and his carelessness doing it in risky places or when someone is around.

“Are you thinking about it, babe?” He teases, slapping your ass with his other hand, bringing you back to him. “Do you think you would get her that wet?”

“I — I don’t know,” you mumble, brain far gone, too busy thinking about too many things.

“I think you would. I mean, everyone would want you,” he hums. “I think you’d be pretty good at it too. Fingering her pussy like you do with yours, curling those fingers so nicely,” he curls them up, hitting your g-spot, making your toes curl and your back arch, “you’d make her squirt everywhere.”

At his words you lose it, squirting all over his wrist and arm, while your mouth hangs open to let out a long wail of moans that mix up with the ones coming from the laptop as the woman in the video reaches another orgasm too.

“Fuck, Nana, too much,” you cry when he pulls out, moving his fingers on your clit and entrance in quick motions to make sure he has milked everything from you. “Please.”

“We’re not done,” he says, though he stops touching your sensitive spot, and instead rubs his hand on your back, caressing it.

“You didn’t come, yet,” you whine, rolling over and staring at him while your hand resumes the movements you had stopped since he asked you that question.

Jaemin rolls his eyes back, inhaling deeply as he feels you shift next to him to get in a more comfortable position, and, so lost in the movements of your hand, he’s startled when he feels your mouth around his tip.

“Shit,” he groans, looking down at you, meeting your innocent eyes and the lift of your shoulders to tell him that was what you were supposed to be doing, and when he glances at the monitor, he gets it. “I should lay down, it’s a 69.”

Your mouth leaves his dick, and you speak. “I can’t take oral, you will kill me.”

“I’m sure you can, come on,” he orders, but you have no intentions to obey, so he gives up soon after. More moans leave his mouth as you start sucking his dick with more vigour, and the lewd sounds of your mouth adding up to the ones of the video, drive him closer to the edge faster than he expects. You bob your head up and down while your hand fondle his balls and the other one touches his torso until it reaches his sensitive nipples.

“Shit,” Jaemin grunts as he tries to hold it in for a bit more, but you know what you’re doing, and even when he escapes from your face, the view on the screen is not less hot, so he comes in your mouth as soft groans fill the room.

You pull away once you’re sure he’s done, licking your lips and kissing his in a slow, yet passionate, kiss.

Jaemin gently lays you horizontally on the mattress, adjusting the computer to make sure you can both still see the video, and then kneels between your spread legs.

You turn your head to the side, finding yourself getting caught in the way he’s touching her, hands running on her waist, tummy and then move up to fondle her soft boobs, causing her to roll her head back at the stimulation.

Jaemin coughs and you immediately bring your attention to him with apologetic eyes. “Don’t, it’s cute. I can’t really tell if you wish I was doing it to you or if you wish you were doing it to her, but I don’t mind.”

You lower your eyes for a second, feeling a bit shy, but then you make eye contact again. “Why not both?”

Jaemin chuckles, leaning down to kiss you, “Both is good.”

You moan in the kiss when the tip of his cock rubs against your entrance and starts to push in, stretching you as he slowly bottoms into you. You only focus on your boyfriend at the start, enjoying the sensation of being filled to the brim as he starts driving his hips in and out of you, cupping his face as you keep pulling him into heated kisses, the video just a background of moans and skin slapping sounds.

But a particular higher moan grabs your attention, making you turn to the side. “Me too,” you plead, looking into Jaemin’s eyes, watching as a smirk curls his lips.

“Want to feel me deeper? Is this not enough?” He teases but does what you ask anyway, wrapping his hands around your waist to lift your lower body from the mattress, your feet pressing down the bed to help him keep you up as he starts fucking your body on his length, almost as if he’s using you like a fleshlight.

“Fuck, so good,” you cry out, head rolling back as your hands clench on the sheets.

“You’re so wet, it really turns you on so fucking much,” he groans, eyes stuck where your bodies meet, watching your greedy hole suck him in and coat him with cum. “No, don’t look at me, look at her,” he orders, cupping your chin and turning your face to the side, fixating his gaze on the video too. “Look at how wet she is, just like you, dripping all over his cock. That’s why she turns you on so much, ’cause you’re both desperate, uhm?”

You mumble a senseless reply, chest heaving faster as you feel close again. Your clit is painfully hard and you need him to touch you, you don’t care you might pass out after this orgasm. The thing is, you’re so turned on that you don’t even think about asking and just do it yourself.

Jaemin watches your hand sneak between your bodies but doesn’t say anything, he only stands straight again to have a better view and goes back to fucking you like before. The scene in front of his eyes is addictive and intoxicating, his eyes keep moving up and down from between your legs, where your hand is moving skillfully on your clit, to your face, still focused on the video. It’s so hot to watch you pleasure yourself and get lost in someone else getting fucked, and he’d die to know what’s running in your brain — if something is running in your brain, because you look pretty fucked out and he’s not sure you have a single thought that makes sense in you.

You feel like it’s a matter of seconds now and your fingers start moving faster, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, feeling them heavy as the pleasure intensifies but you still turn your face to your boyfriend, you want to look at him while you come. And as expected, the third orgasm washes over you in a few seconds, leaving you moaning and gasping for air, back arching to fuck back into him while you keep touching your clit. You hear louder moans next to you, but you don’t turn to the side to look, preferring to watch as the climax hits Jaemin too, watching his lips part as he groans and whimpers, eyebrows narrowed and head slightly thrown back.

You both go out of the haze just in time to see the end of the video, a close-up of the creampie that shouldn’t make you clench around his dick but does.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he whispers, watching the cum ooze down her hole, slowly dripping on the mattress. You don’t say anything, but you think that too, and have to look away before getting turned on again.

Jaemin is shaken out of the haze when the screen turns back, his eyes on you as he pulls out, pushing your legs up to imitate the shot of the video and staring at his cum leak out of your swollen pussy.

You let him do his thing, too tired to even try to steal a glance between your legs, but when his fingers plunge into you again, you let out a scream of his name.

“Fine, fine, sorry,” he chuckles at your glaring stare. “It’s just hot, you know I like fucking my cum back into you.”

“I will pass out if you touch me again,” you reply and he kisses your frown away.

“’m sorry,” Jaemin whispers against your lips before pulling you into a hug. “I’ll save it for another time.”

You giggle, kissing him again. “Yeah, I think we have many things to save for another time,” you stop, smiling shyly. “If you want to.”

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#anon answered #jaemin hard hours #jaemin hard thoughts #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours

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