#sorry! normal again. this woman is just infuriating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gentlyweeps-world · 6 months

Text

The “It Girl”

summary: Being a rookie in the world of Formula One comes with challenges, added on with the fact you’re a girl, American and racing for Red Bull doesn’t help. While you do have your “guard dogs” and “it girl” tendencies, it doesn’t help that you’re also trying to figure out romance.

pairing: 2021 grid x fem! driver, romantic interest tbd

warnings: sexism, alcohol consumption, toxic environments, uncomfortable situations

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

Many had said the 2021 grid was the best, the most exciting grid yet. While that was true, it wasn’t fun as a rookie in Red Bull, better yet, a female rookie in Red Bull. But that wasn’t the end of it, an American female rookie racing for Red Bull.

Least to say PR had a field day when they announced you would be replacing Checo after his retirement in 2020.

At only 21 years old you were making history, and you were once again today. Finishing P1 on home soil at the circuit of Americas.

Now here you were, alongside Max Verstappen, your teammate, and Lewis Hamilton, the break in between the two Red Bulls.

“Y/n how do you look so good after a race?”

“Y/n what makeup do you use?”

Only ten minutes ago did the end of race press conference start, and only five minutes did the most sexist and offensive questions start. And only seconds ago is when you were put out of your daze from the most infuriating question you had received.

“Y/n? How do you race while menstruating?”

Suddenly knocked out of your daze, your face contorts into one of shock and annoyance from the question.

“E-excuse me?”, You ask out shocked, not sure if you had heard the question right. I mean after all this was a post race conference, and not one question was about racing.

You glance over to Lewis and Max, who both look equally upset and disgusted.

The interviewer looks at you and smiles while he asks once more, “Can you tell us about how racing while having to deal with menstruation affects race strategy in your car?”

Max and Lewis still have a confused look, while Max looks at the interviewer like he will rip the guy’s head off.

The interviewer smiles and says, “Don’t be offended L/n, but girls and women on their period don’t think as fast or as clearly.” He then pauses for a moment to think about what he’s just said, and he adds, “Of course, it doesn’t matter anyway, women don’t belong in F1.”

You can feel your face contort to bewilderment, taking a moment to realize this interviewer was from DTS. Then you hear Max slap his hand on the table.

“She just got fucking P1 and you expect her to answer these ridiculous questions? Treat her with some respect, she’s done more than you have!”, Max says sternly, his eyes shooting daggers at the interviewer.

The interviewer grows visibly intimidated by Maxs reaction. He swallows twice and his tone visibly changes

“I-I’m sorry, I just had to ask.”

Lewis then speaks up and says to the interviewer, “I want you to listen to what you just said and think about what you just did. Women aren’t allowed to drive just because they are on their period, do you even hear yourself?” Lewis sounds genuinely sad.

Max remains silent, but his eyes are still angry. Instead of adding anything onto the conversation you just sit there, shock still on your face.

You let out an awkward cough, drinking some of you Red Bull, you clear your throat and look up towards the interviewers, annoyance clear in your eyes.

“Could we please move on now? Maybe ask a racing related question”, You say, showing no interest in being there.

For a few seconds, there is complete silence. Then a new interviewer finally manages to speak.

“Of course, a new question. So, Y/n, how do you feel about being the second woman to win a Grand Prix in Formula One?”

A faint smile appears on your face as you hear the question, “About time, a normal question”, You hear Max mumble out, a grin tugs at your lips, thankful Max has your back.

“It feels great, I’m super grateful for my team and engineers”, You say, “But very thankful to win, glad to have proved all of the doubters wrong”

Another reporter then pipes up and asks, “How did you feel about the backlash from a lot of people who didn’t want a woman in F1?”

You take a moment to think on how to respond, taking a moment to consider how much trouble you could get in if you answered honestly, but that was PR jobs right?

“Uh..well I think they’re fucking stupid, and they clearly don’t know who Desiré Wilson is”, You state, a small smirk on your face as you answer, knowing DTS will eat that up.

For a moment everyone is silent, until Lewis breaks out laughing, “I think this would be a great way to end this conference”, He says with a grin, getting up from his seat and moving out of the room. Max soon follows behind, and you’re quick to follow Max, not sure what to do afterwards.

As Max and you make your way back to the garage you hear chants and jeers thrown out, but it wasn’t enough to wipe off the smile on your face.

Finally reaching the Red Bull garage, Max and you get there and are immediately bombarded with cheers, laughter and applause from the Red Bull team.

After a good hour of celebrating with the team, you feel your phone vibrate in your hand, “Who is it?”, Max asks, curious to see who texted you.

Checking the notification it’s from an unknown number, asking if you wanted to go and celebrate with them, you look up at Max with confusion, but his face shows the opposite.

“Didn’t know he would be asking you so soon..”, Max says with a look of shock.

———————————————————————

radio: Hope this was a good one, im quite excited to work on this series!! I’m leaving it up to you guys to pick a love interest in the comments, keep in mind the grid is 2021 not 2023 💙💙 (send in any requests and leave any comments)

next part

1K notes · View notes

demonpiratehuntress · 4 months

Note

Y/n is a nice young woman and head over heels in love with her boyfriend Ace. Of course he too. But there is this girl on the ship, cute, lovely, accommodating and everything that makes a "cute girl". Everyone likes her and Y/n likes her too, until she starts getting closer to Ace. Like, unexpectedly hugging him from behind, clinging to his arm, giving him a slap on the bottom, jumping up to him like she hadn't seen him in forever. She's really attached to him and even after you very politely expressed that you didn't like it and neither did Ace. But after a short while she continues, whether in front of you or the crew. And at some point Y/n's patience breaks and she literally drags her away from him by her hair. No one ever expected that she could be so aggressive, insulting the girl with the most disgusting words y/n could think of. How does Ace react to this?[I'm soo sorry, it's so long😶‍🌫️ Hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable😵‍💫]

No worries! I actually really like this idea, so I hope you like this answer!

back off

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above, you don't like the new recruit when she gets too close to your boyfriend

warnings - swearing, violence from you at the end

Ace was too nice. You knew that, he knew that, everyone knew that. He was way too nice and you always told him one day that would get him into trouble. You just didn't know that 'one day' would come so soon.

She was nice at first. Sweet, friendly, helpful. You liked having another woman around, because it gave you a break from the rowdiness of the men. She was great to talk to, and for a while was a good listener and a confidant you trusted. You had no idea where Marco had found her, but she'd apparently wanted to become a pirate so he brought her and Whitebeard allowed her to join, thinking it would be good for you. And it was.

For a while.

You started noticing her shift in behaviour when the crew stopped by an island to take a break and just relax, and you'd suggested hitting the beach with her.

"Will Ace be coming?" She asked, trying to mask the excitement in her voice but clearly failing.

You raised an eyebrow, "He's my boyfriend, so probably. He's clingy."

"That's so cute!"

You smiled, ignoring her wistful expression, "It is. He is."

Ace did join you not long after, surprising you by running up to you from behind and lifting you off your feet. You squealed in surprise and laughed, before your eyes widened when you saw the water getting closer and closer.

"Babe, no!"

"Yes," he answered happily, and you just knew he was grinning like the little devil he was.

Then you felt nothing but cold water, and when you resurfaced you gasped for air before shooting the cackling commander a death glare.

"Ace!"

"Sorry, babe, I had to!"

You laughed and shook your head, before witnessing one of the most uncomfortable and infuriating sights you'd ever seen. (Other Name) ran up to your boyfriend, jumped onto his back and locked her legs around his waist. She giggled innocently like that was a totally normal thing to do, telling him that friends gave each other piggyback rides sometimes.

You weren't so sure she saw him as a friend, but you grit your teeth and sucked it up anyway, not wanting to ruin the mood. Ace was confused, and also uncomfortable because he didn't really like anyone but you doing that to him, but he also said nothing. But for him, it was just because he was too sweet to speak out.

At dinner it was even worse.

She shoved herself between you and Ace, running her hand along his arm as she smiled and rambled on about something you weren't listening to.

"(Other Name)," you tried to stay calm, forcing a smile, "Ace and I were talking. Could you please move?"

"Oh, sorry!" She smiled at you, but didn't seem very sorry. Then she had the nerve to get up, move around your boyfriend, and force herself between Marco and Ace.

You grit your teeth again, but said nothing. Everyone was having fun. No need to ruin it with your anger, right? Besides, she knew he was yours, right? He knew that too. You trusted him.

You just didn't trust her...

Afterwards, Ace noticed your sour mood as you both walked to your shared room. He slid his hand into yours and squeezed it, looking at you worriedly.

"You okay babe?"

"I'm fine," you glared ahead. "Nothing's wrong."

He frowned, "But-"

You whirled on him when you were both in the room, "Why aren't you stopping her? I know you're nice, Ace, but there are limits."

His eyes widened, "Babe-"

"No, you're not even trying to tell her to stop! You always look uncomfortable, but you won't ever tell her to go away and stop it! Do you really have that little respect for our relationship?!" As soon as you said it, you regretted it. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I know," he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you, "I'm sorry. I know I'm too nice to say no. I promise I'll work on it." He kissed the top of your head. "I know she's bothering you, and she's bothering me too. So tomorrow, I'll tell her to stop, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, smiling softly and burying your face in his neck.

The next morning, he did actually speak to her about it. He told her that she was making you both uncomfortable and that she needed to stop because he was already taken.

Her response?

She waited a few days, only to ramp up her inappropriate and infuriating behaviour.

"Hi Ace!" She greeted him at lunch one day with a smack to his rear.

That's when the atmosphere changed. The crew became nervous, knowing just how you might react to that. You had stopped walking, your eyes narrowing at the brave - and apparently stupid - girl, fury like no other building up inside. You were about to blow.

What the crew expected to happen, was far from what actually happened.

You stormed over to her and grabbed her by her hair, yanking hard to get her away from a stunned Ace. No one moved as you dragged her by her hair to the side of the ship.

"Do you know what 'no' means, you hairbrained little bitch?" You snarled, shoving her against the railing. You pulled her hair a little harder, and she yelped in pain. "Do you know what 'stay away from my boyfriend' means, or do I have to fucking beat it into you?"

The entire crew was silent, some watching in awe, others watching in terror. Ace felt a little bit of both, none of them had ever seen you like this but it was so incredibly hot he didn't want to stop you. It was sweet that you were fighting in his honour, but it was also so so sexy, and his mind was already drifting.

"Look at you, so pathetic and stupid, whining like a little baby," you sneered, unable to stop because all of this had just been building up. "Not so bubbly and sweet now, are you? Maybe this'll teach you to grope other women's boyfriends!" You pulled harder and she whimpered. "Such a whiny little thing. Won't miss you here." Then, casually, you threw her overboard into the ocean.

That's when everyone remembered how to move, and almost all of them rushed over to see (Other Name) flailing around in the water below. You turned and walked away, seething but trying to calm down.

Immediately Ace was on you, gripping your waist and pressing heated kisses to any part of you that his lips could reach. He kissed along your neck, along your shoulders, along your jawline...anything to show just how hot your outburst had been to him.

"That was so, so sexy babe," he was muttering as he kissed you. "You're so unbelievably hot. Can't believe you're all mine. Damn."

You blushed furiously, already over your little outburst. She was forgotten, your mind only on Ace and the kisses he was drowning you in. Then you gasped and laughed when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, marching you to the bedroom.

#one piece #op #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you

621 notes · View notes

afewfantasies · 1 month

Text

🏔️The Retreat 🏔️- Chapter II

Prologue | Chapter I | Misc references & details

Summary: Set about a month after the first Chapter, Gale heads into town for supplies and to make a reunion with the survivors of 'the bloody hundredth'. Lorena accompanies him on this journey, while the road-trip together is new territory - the reunion proves a success. Gale and Lorena get to see glimpses of each other at their best, in their elements and the new perceptions of each other are complimentary. Setting the foundation for bonds built to last.

Pairing: Gale Cleven x Lorena (black fem oc), everyones favorite Bucky Egan makes an appearance.

Warnings: Race is a factor but there will be no overwhelmingly racist outbursts. It is more so a discovery element and explorations, different worlds, a little forbidden love element.

Tropes: Slow Burn, opposites attract, forbidden love

Word Count: 3.3K

Chapter II

Sitting in the car Lorena takes inventory of her purse for a third time. The drive into the nearest major city is five hours and Gale makes the trip once a month to pick up necessities without the markup of the local city. With his current profit margins it’s no need but he’s a man of routine. Lorena looks him over realizing this is the only time he’s freshly shaven with coiffed hair. His clothes are pressed and starched to perfection and he looks like he could belong in the pictures. Turning back to her window she wonders if he has someone in town or if it’s a bid to get someone in particular’s attention. She’d never asked any questions about his romantic life in the four months she’d been with him. Rose had disclosed the important stuff. He had been engaged prior to the war, but then before victory his intended decided to leave him for a Hollywood producer. Gale’s fiance was beautiful, Rose says they looked like a Hollywood couple. It was now weeks since Lorena’s breakdown and things were closer to normal again now. She was back to her easy going nature. Reaching into her purse she gets out a book getting Gales attention as she flips through pages before starting at the beginning. He focuses on the road for about five minutes until Lorena grows restless again. It makes him smile remembering his best friend.

“My best friend’s gonna meet us in town,” Gale says, breaking the silence.

“You have friends?” Lorena asks, surprised.

“I do” he nods and Lorena smiles pleased for him.

“So you speak to him? Full sentences or … how was the friendship developed?” She asks, her tone slightly teasing.

“Bucky talks enough for the both of us, you two are very similar” Gale responds with a shady smile.

“Bucky’s a woman?” Lorena asks, being cheeky.

“No, he’s one of my brothers from the war. We trained together, flew in together and were prisoners of war together” he says candidly, sometimes it felt good to tell the truth.

“Sorry” Lorena says not wanting to mock anything about what was undoubtedly a painful time in his life.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Bucky’s a flirt but he means nothing by it, he’ll probably tease the both of us unmercifully but it’s just his character. He can be juvenile at times but there’s no better man to have on your side in a pinch” Gale says with reverence for his comrade.

“I’m not easily offended” Lorena comments. “Also, I’d rather not interrupt a reunion of soldiers” she says with the wounds still fresh from her own ejection of Reggies life and times as a soldier.

“It’s fine, some of the guys will have sisters, wives, girlfriends and such with them. Rose thought it would be a good idea. You could shop and have some female company.” Gale proposes always the Major, always considering others. Somehow, it wasn’t infuriating to Lorena that they were discussing her behind her back. Gale and Rose really did seem to have her best interest at heart.

Lorena takes in her surroundings the drive in had been so full of strife and anxiety that there was no time to enjoy the mountain ranges. Everything looked far more picturesque than any painting she’d ever seen of the west. If her granny was still alive she would tell Lorena that this was the kind of place you survived at god's mercy. Her childhood experiences lead her to think of exodus, or maybe this was her Joseph moment as a girl. She hoped her grandmother's prayers would protect her in this new journey, through her rebellion and absconding of her home and family. Her grandmother would be proud of her survival instincts. Gale pulls over into a gas station to top up the tank.

“I can drive if you’d like?” Lorena offers.

“I’m fine, doll. I’ve managed longer with more challenging hardware” Gale smiles, seeming happier than ever before. There was a gleam in his eye that she’d somehow seemed to miss every day at breakfast and dinner.

“Okay” Lorena nods, heading into the station with Gale. He checks the bathroom before allowing her inside. He stands outside the door considerate of the world’s ugliness and prejudice. Lorena found Gale even more protective than her own older brother. He was always hyper vigilant, assessing levels of danger and prospective threats. It was a symptom of the sickness the war left behind according to the mature ladies who’d lived through the return of men from the Great War. Gale catches all the eyes looking at Lorena and decides against using the restroom for the next few hours of his drive. He had his demons and didn’t need to risk letting that part of himself out while in the presence of a woman who’d never known that level of dysfunction. His daddy was a drunk man with a predisposition for violence. The very opposite of the kind of man Gale wanted to be.

“I’m fine to wait here” Lorena says.

“No” Gale swallows.

“You could ruin your bladder” Lorena tells Gale who smiles.

“I’ll be fine, doll” he scoffs.

“My Pa is a physician, he had a lot of patients in their old age suffering from incontinence, which means they can’t control their bladders.” Lorena explains.

“I know what it means, I’ll be fine Lorena” Gale says in an even tone. Smiling, Lorena turns away looking out the window as the sun begins to set. It was another thing that set Gale apart from the rest. She’d gone through life with the ability to charm the opposite sex with sweet smiles and fluttering lashes. Her granny always told her it was a danger to be so pretty - Gale seemed to think so too.

“What?” He asks, noticing her dimples.

“Just thinking about my Granny” she shares.

“Granny? You don’t send her any letters”

“No she’s passed on, something about you just now reminded me of her. She didn’t like many people either and was very protective. Took no advice or no nonsense, people gave her space and respect” Lorena explains. Gale shakes his head scoffing without comment.

“A woman” he says finally, a callback to the Bucky debacle.

“I meant no offense Gale and besides, Granny was knockout - way prettier than you” Lorena teases getting a genuine laugh out of him. He’d received the pretty boy jokes his entire life, especially in the war. Never from a woman though. It reminded him of something Bucky would say. It was a strange thing to find the qualities you admire in someone who’d entered your life so unexpectedly but it was settling to both Gale and Lorena. Granny and Bucky have both been pillars of their lives during the times they were becoming the core of the people they were now. It’s dark when they arrive in the city, Gale takes the cases up to a room leaving Lorena confused. There was only one bedroom and one bed.

“Is there another room?” She asks looking up at Gale who seems ashamed.

“Not tonight, take the bedroom. I’ll take the couch, it’ll be safer that way” he explains as Lorena turns towards the door again. He’d spent practically an entire day on the road in an uncomfortable car, a couch would not suffice. “Before you start, I’ve slept in far worse conditions” Gale says, taking a seat.

Sighing Lorena says not another word to avoid a quarrel, she heads to the bathroom to freshen up and ready for bed. When Lorena had shown up at his door he was suspicious at first, a beautiful woman, young and with an unbelievable story. At first he was sure someone had sent her for him, then he was sure she was pregnant and looking to hide a child and then he was puzzled. She was remarkable and somehow through dumb luck or divine intervention she managed to travel all this way without knowing the evils of this world. Divorcee’s were usually more prickly around the edges but Lorena’s naivete shone through. Perhaps Gale hadn’t yet placed it but it had helped him come a long way. Done a lot to show him that his sacrifice had meant something to this world. That there were eyes that would never see the worst of it.

__________________

Noise startles Lorena, rousing her from a deep sleep. Turning she finds the other side of the bed empty once again. Waking, she swallows her bitterness like she had every day since she’d discovered another woman was a part of her marriage. Pulling on a housecoat she pads to the bedroom door only to find a sleepy looking Gale speaking to a tall smiling brunette.

“Gale, where’d you find her?” The man says pushing past Gale breaking all rules of decorum to shake Lorena’s hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips as he looks her in the eyes.

“You must be Bucky” Lorena smiles amused by his pageantry.

“That’s right,” Bucky smiles.

“I’m Lorena” she says and it takes some time for it to register. Bucky frowns a bit before turning to Gale in confusion.

“Buck, you didn’t say she was gorgeous. That’s not the kind of thing you leave out.” Bucky exclaims before turning back to Lorena. “Lorena, it’s a pleasure doll” Bucky says more respectably.

“Gales, a man of few words, he was conserving ink” you tease.

“Ohhhhh, I like her,” Bucky laughs, turning to Gale who nods knowingly.

“Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the women.” Bucky suggests.

“Not like this! I have to get ready!” Lorena says, alarmed.

“Might as well sit Egan, she’ll be awhile” Gale comments putting on a kettle.

“If you wake up like an angel, I’m all for seeing how you look all done up” Bucky says with his special brand of charm, it makes Lorena giggle. Gale had gotten used to her pageantry. At first it seemed silly, but he noticed how uncomfortable not being put together made her. Marge was beautiful too, drop dead gorgeous, the first time he’d laid eyes on her his heart stopped. They hadn’t had time to get to know each other really before the war. She was this woman who was perfect every time she appeared in front of him. There were no hairspray, cans and palettes of makeup and products, rollers and itons. There were no bottles of nail polish and strange scents about the house. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she’d left him for someone else. Perhaps he’d taken her for granted, perhaps he was too quiet, boring, reclusive and all the other things people said about him. He’d heard the commentary, grouchy recluse, tyrant, miserable hoot. He’d also heard the rumors started by the women. He was impotent or maybe the Germans had castrated him when he was captured. None of it was true, it was heartbreak although no one saw it that was. Just like no one could see through all Lorena’s pretty that she spent some nights sobbing. That sometimes all the makeup and pageantry was used to cover her puffy eyes and flushed skin. Sometimes the partying and drinking was her only medicine. It had occurred to Gale, watching Lorena over the past four months, that the women of the war had their own pain they had no outlets for. That they didn’t think twice about setting their pain aside for their men.

“She’s nice and beautiful - why’s she in the middle of nowhere with you?” Bucky whispers curiously.

“Her husband… ex-husband found someone in Europe and brought her back home. That’s about all I know, she doesn’t talk about it much”

“I bet you never asked” Bucky swallows, turning back to her door.

“I hate to see her upset Egan, whatever it is she’s run pretty far she clearly doesn’t want to face it” Gale explains.

“Is she a flirt?” Bucky asks.

“Not genuinely no, her hearts still hemmed up in her ex. I think it was real” Gale shares with a close eye on the door.

“Well she doesn’t look hard to love” Egan comments leaving Buck to shake his head. “What about Marge, you hear from her?” He asks.

Gale sighs, tasting bitterness in his mouth, “No, but I think she'd be doing well in Hollywood, with that big producer. The mountains aren't her idea of happiness. I tried fighting for her - she doesn’t want me” he confesses with defeat.

“Screw it, there are plenty of good women out there, bad ones too - I know where to find those” Egan winks, making Buck laugh.

“Ready” Lorena smiles all done up in her finery. A touch more than even Gale was used to but they were in the city now and it seemed appropriate to bring her nicer items out of hiding.

“Where the hell did you find her?” Egan whispers as the three of them take the stairs to the party.

It had been months since Lorena was truly happy to throw a party. It was like a fish getting back in the water, she couldn’t help but smile along with the other women. In two hours she had the hall all done up for the 100th Bombardment Groups reunion. It looked swell, especially the champagne tower she’d managed all on her own. Everyone likes her sunny disposition and warm smile. She’d also disappeared with the women for the first two hours of the reunion, Gale knew it was to beautify them. He’d never met a person that enjoyed seeing others at their best as much as Lorena. The way the other woman clung to her and the way they laughed made his day. He hadn’t seen her laugh like that ever, he’d never seen her so happy. This seemed to be her element. She was a people person, generous with her time and natural abilities. She seemed to be so comfortable entertaining, a debutant of sorts. Even the wait staff was at her mercy getting drinks and hors d'oeuvres to the men and women of the reunion. Every time Gale took his eyes off of her she’d magically teleport to another corner of the room.

This reunion was therapeutic for Lorena, to see the men smiling and whole after all they’d endured. They were generous with the stories of their experiences both good and bad. She wasn’t prepared for some of the horrors she heard but they only made her appreciate the men all the more. Reggie had been on land while they had been in the sky. After learning about their “bloody hundredth' moniker she found herself thankful that Reggie had made it home whole, even if he didn’t love her the way he did before he left. Lorena hadn’t expected to host parties every weekend but she’d hoped to make a home for him, invite his comrades over, host, have children and give him something to look forward to so he could put the horrors of the past behind him.

Feeling her mood dip Lorena heads to the bar trading the happy bubbly for her newly acquired bad habit of whisky. The bartender gives her a glass and she turns to the party happening around her. Sipping the strong liquid she turns away from Alexander Jefferson and his wife. They share a kiss and it brings back fond memories. Spinning around on the barstool she looks at the glass of the liquor display trying to quiet the heartbreak in her chest. Reggie had been devoted to her like that once upon a time.

“Whisky” she hears from behind her only to see Bucky.

“A touch more ladylike than the moonshine the boys drink at the lakehouse” Lorena smiles.

“Don’t do that, not for me. Don’t pretend to be happy Lo - there’s nothing sadder” Bucky comments with sympathetic eyes. Smiling, she blinks away her tears. “I had all these grand plans and then I was in prison and week after week not a single letter. All the guys had their sweethearts and I had to find my own reasons” Bucky tells her candidly. It’s a deeply personal thing to share and incredibly vulnerable.

“Have you found anyone yet?” Lorena asks hopefully.

“Not yet, the guys write to me though” Bucky says.

“I will too and I’ll keep an eye out for you” Lorena adds, making Bucky smile.

“What’s your story, how does a city girl end up in the mountains?” Bucky asks, causing Lorena to drain her glass. Tapping the glass onto the bartop she beckons another needing more liquid courage for her truth.

“Reggie, my ex husband, was in the war. We were just married before he left, newly weds of sorts at least it was still the honeymoon. We had friends and a home and people say perfection doesn’t exist but I had no complaints. We were so complimentary, nothing he did annoyed me. He went over and heaven only knows what he saw, I understand it was horrible, I do, and my heart seems a small price to pay for his life but it's hard all the same” Lorena confesses wiping away stray tears. “He came back and it was different. He was trying to fill the shoes of what we had been. Bucky he’d never tried before. It was as easy as breathing, then I found letters from her and then I saw them together and as much as it hurt I was relieved. You know when you love someone that much it hurts to live with a ghost or a shell of them. So when I saw them and all my intuition was confirmed I left. Reggie didn’t need another great battle and it would’ve soured into resentment if I stayed. If I stayed at home I couldn’t survive it so I drove.” Lorena shrugs, wiping away more teats.

Bucky nods a few stray tears falling out of his own eyes.

“If I ever meet that sorry son of a bitch” he comments, making her smile. She takes her new glass of whisky, taking a sip as he stares at her. “I can tell you one thing for sure Lorena and I know men, your Reggie is a coward. A real man would’ve told the truth and carried the burden. You shouldn’t have had to run, you did nothing wrong but I’m glad to have met you. Glad to know you.” Bucky smiles, holding out a hand to her. Smiling, she shakes it.

“Likewise” Lorena agrees.

“I know what I’m gonna call you,” he smiles.

“What? Buck-ette?” Lorena teases, making him laugh.

“Angel,” he nods.

“Why Angel?” Lorena asks.

“Cause you're too good for this world” Bucky nods. “The kind of woman us men pray for” Bucky says.

Sitting at the bar Lorena finishes her drink and Bucky gets through three before he's up dancing and singing. He’s a hell of a good time, they dance together as friends until she overheats and finds a seat. Fanning herself as she watches Bucky go off on a tear she can't help but laugh. Familiar cologne tells her Gale is near and he sits in his perfectly tailored uniform. Lorena had known he was a good man but she never dreamed he was the kind of hero he was to these men. Brave, loyal, dependable and adventurous.

“Haven't seen you dance” Lorena comments.

“I don't dance,” Gale responds.

“No of course not” Lorena smiles watching Bucky belt out the words to the record playing.

“You have quite the moves”

“I was a debutant, there were lessons upon lessons and then there were lots of parties and I loved to dance. Seems silly now, but it's still a good time” Lorena confesses happily.

“Angel, I need you for the next one!” Bucky walls from the floor.

“Angel?”

“I’m officially one of you now, I’ve got my nickname” Lorena winks standing to smooth her dress. Watching them, Gale feels a curious longing in his chest. She fit so well he wondered if maybe the warm reception from his comrades at arms and neighbors in the mountains meant maybe they could be something more.

#austin butler imagine #austin butler x black reader #black authors #austin butler #major gale cleven #gale cleven x oc #gale cleven #buck cleven #bucky egan #masters of the air #masterlist #mota

44 notes · View notes

inuhalfdemon · 3 months

Text

Alastor meets Susan

(Snippet from fan fiction Dirty Dealings)

“WHERE’S ROSIE!?” A loud, grating voice cawed from nearby.

Alastor and the ladies all looked to see an ancient, cannibalistic woman shuffling right for them.

“Oh, dear…” Rosie sighed quietly before standing to meet the woman.

“Susan, dear. It’s good to see you.” Rosie greeted her warmly. “I hope you are having a lovely afternoon. Would you like to join us?”

“A lovely afternoon, my foot.” Susan said sharply. “Do you know that slut Linda went and got herself eviscerated by the hell hound that guards the butcher shop on 17th? What a dumb cunt.”

Alastor and the two ladies still seated at the table starred at the elderly woman, not saying anything.

Rosie touched Susan’s shoulder. “Now, Susan. I’m sure Linda did nothing to warrant the attack. Hell hounds are unpredictable at the best of times and that particular one is…well…I don’t think that necessarily makes Linda a…um…slut?”

“No.” Susan took a deep drag from the cigarette she was holding. “She was definitely a skank.” She finished, puffing out a large cloud of smoke.

Rosie blinked at her, unsure of what to say next when she remembered her friends.

“Susan, I would very much like to introduce you a good friend of mine!” She changed the subject and brought the old lady toward the table with her.

Alastor quickly got up from his chair, to greet the woman with his best smile. Any friend of Rosie’s deserved his utmost manners.

“Susan, you know all about the radio demon…” Rosie started.

“Ugh!” Susan groaned disgustedly. “Don’t get me started with that load of hog-wash….what a sorry excuse for a radio station, am I right? Maybe if it were just the screams but then we’ve got to listen to a wannabe Overlord and his fake, noisy, crackling static-filled voice. And, how unoriginal!? Is that mediocre broadcast actually supposed to be scary!? I tell you, Rosie, Hell was better in the old days. I’d eat my own ears off if it meant not having to listen to that racket ever again.”

Everyone was deadly quiet.

Um…”Rosie began, rather awkwardly. “This is him, Susan.” She gestured weakly to Alastor.

“Alastor…meet Susan.” Rosie finished.

His smile stayed in place, but his body was straight as a rod as he assessed the infuriating old broad before him.

“….charmed.” His normally filtered voice had dropped it’s static; whether or not that was something intentional on his part, Rosie couldn’t guess.”

There was an awkward pause, in where nobody moved for several seconds.

Then, Susan took another long drag from her cigarette, slowly blowing the smoke out to the side of her mouth.

“Your broadcast sucks.” She told him sharply.

“OK!” Rosie said, quickly leading Susan away from the table. “Trudy? Jane? Would you both be dears and treat Susan to a lively round of Pinochle!? I’m sure you both could give her a real run for her money! What do you say!?”

The two ladies slid from their seats, and circumventing Alastor safely while remaining close enough not to appear rude, they took Susan with them as they departed.

Rosie sighed heavily as the women gathered up Susan and hurriedly left with her.

“I apologize,” Rosie started to say to Alastor. “Susan, can be-“

“BRING CECIL PALMER BACK!!!” Susan’s voice could be heard yelling away from them.

Rosie stood with Alastor, not saying anything anymore. He was perfectly, frighteningly still, a smile still plastered across his face.

One of his ears twitched slightly, then he asked her, “Is that one contracted?”

“I’m afraid so.” She told him.

“Well, that’s…disappointing.” He commented cooly.

#hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel susan #susan #rosie #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #one shot #but not really

50 notes · View notes

teenidlegirl · 9 months

Text

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓐𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ┆ 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ after a flop-sided mission, you and miguel are stuck in another universe with no method to contact HQ. you have to accept the reality and come up with a plan. however, you have to deal with a pissy miguel.

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ angst, mostly fluff, sticky situations, swearing, spanish terms, pure goofiness

❛⠀ masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

welp. you are stuck in a different universe. and you’re stuck with miguel, your boss. that’s just great. turns out he broke his gizmo during a small mission on this earth. it’s a small mission that miguel thought about taking you since you’re always cooped up in HQ and wished to travel to other dimensions.

there is another problem: for some unknown reason, he can’t summon lyla. now that’s a cherry on top. miguel is pissed. you’re pissed at him for being pissed off. his big attitude isn’t helping.

with a fucked up gizmo and no lyla, there is no method to contact the spider squad back at HQ. although, it seems likely they will eventually find out about your disappearance. you know they will do anything in their abilities to search for you both.

from your perspective, you both are okay and safe. that’s all what matters. there are no attacks or threats. just simply stuck on an earth with no issues. well — who knows if there are threats that are unaware of. besides that, you and miguel just have to stick together and get through this sticky situation.

from miguel’s perspective, he is pissed off as hell. mainly pissed off at himself and his broken gizmo. he’s upset that you both are trapped on this earth but is more upset that he brought you along. his assistant. a non-spiderperson. the woman he deeply cares about (in secret obviously). he is so sorry and regretful about it. miguel heavily blames himself for bringing you into this mess. his mess.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

the two of you are in an abandoned alleyway, hidden from the public eye. junk scatted on the ground and graffiti illustrated on the walls.

you are in your work outfit (minus the cardigan), you were at work prior to the flop-sided mission. since you considered yourself a perfectionist, you were cautious of your outfit during the mission. the last thing you need is staining your clothes.

you are dealing with a pissed off miguel, who is constantly cursing in spanish and pacing around the area with an infuriating expression on his face. you have to manage with this grumpyass man alone.

“swearing isn’t gonna make it work again.” you tease but are telling the truth.

he rolls his eyes in annoyance, ignoring your comment while fiddling with his broken gizmo. the swearing continues but grows more aggressively.

you cross your arms and take a few steps towards him. “o’hara just stop. it’s broken for good. there’s no point of trying. we’re stuck here.” you say sternly.

miguel growls. “no we’re not. i’ll fix it and leave. end of conversation.” he glares at you for a second then looks back at his gizmo.

you are in disbelief; annoyed with his attitude. the amount of stubbornness he is projecting is really pissing you off. completely fed up with his bullshit.

you sigh then answer back. “fine. keep being in denial. you know i’m right.” you look off to the side avoiding eye contact, your arms still crossed.

miguel does know you are right. he just doesn’t want to admit it. he hates when he is proven wrong in arguments. it sabotages his ego for sure. now he is stuck here with you on some random ass earth with absolutely nothing. he despises this whole situation.

since you are gonna be stuck here for who knows how long, you need a head start. you need to blend in. you take a quick glance at him. “you need normal clothes. you don’t want people staring at you like a weirdo.” you gesture at his suit.

miguel arches a brow at you, confused by your words. “clothes? why do i need clothes? we’re not staying here.”

“uh yeah we are. we’re literally stuck here, probably for a while until the others find us. but for now, we just have to accept the fact and go with it. there’s nothing else we can do.” you protest.

he sighs in frustration and disbelief. he knows there is no other methods to get out of this mess. for once, he accepts the reality of situation. “what’s your plan, then?” miguel inquires, raises a brow at you.

“we find you some clothes first then check out the area, see what’s around here.” you suggest.

even though it’s not a full elaborate plan, miguel knows there is no other option. “alright. where are you planning to buy clothes from?”

“lemme see.” you turn around and walk towards the opening. you glance around the various shops and restaurants. you keep searching until you see a hollister that is four shops down from you.

you turn around and walk back to miguel. “there’s a hollister a few stores across. i’ll stop by and get your shenanigans from there.”

“fine with me.” he says but adds one more question. “wait — how are you gonna pay?”

you pull out your phone from your back pocket and show it to him like if you are flipping him off with a obvious expression on your face.

he glances at the phone then back at you, crossing his arms. “how? they probably only take card.”

“i have apple pay, pendejo.” you give him an unimpressed look.

miguel scoffs and rolls his eyes. “whatever.”

you roll your eyes in return then turned around starting to walk away. “anything specific or doesn’t matter?” you ask as you’re walking away.

“doesn’t matter.” he replies as he watched you walk.

“i’ll be back. 15 minutes tops.” you say, almost out of the alleyway.

“wait—“ he stops you. “can you look for a hat?”

you turn around and arch a brow at him, baffled by his request. “okie dokie.” you accept his request then leave heading towards the store.

miguel watches you leave until you are no longer in his sight. he thinks your ‘okie dokie’ is cute. a small smile forms on his lips as the thought. luckily for himself, no one is around to see it.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

while you are gone shopping for his clothes, miguel stays in the alleyway away from the public eye. he was about to say thank you but you left before he could say it. he very much appreciates you offering to buy clothes for him. he thinks it’s asking too much but you assure him that it’s fine. a little bit of guilt lingers, using your money for him.

he thinks of ways of returning the favor or at least make it up to you. of course he has some thoughts but they are based on his imagination and fantasies. it’s clear that he likes you, a lot. and of course he will never tell you, afraid of your reaction or more so in denial of his own feelings.

four months ago when you started your job as his assistant, he was fond of you the moment you two first made eye contact. it was uncertain what caused a spark in him. miguel didn’t believe in the ‘love at first sight’ motto. but the moment he first laid eyes on you, his heart fluttered. in the beginning, it was a simple work relationship. you bring and/or collect reports for him in his office. he would appreciate your input with a simple hum and call it a day.

as time passed, you two began chitchatting and share a few laughs. it seemed that you were comfortable enough to have a simple conversation with each other. miguel adored your conversations, found relief and comfort from the exhaustion of his role as boss. he mostly adores your sarcastic humor, one of your famous traits of yourself. there were occasional arguments, mainly miguel being stubborn and you always right. he started calling you spanish pet names and you despised them. it would get you railed up. he loved that, it encouraged him to do it every time you two get into an argument.

the more you two hung out or fought, the more he grew fonder of you. that is when miguel realized he started developing feelings for you. feelings that he hasn’t felt in a long time and is deeply afraid of.

retracing back to present, he has to make it up to you in return for buying him clothes. the idea will come to mind eventually. as for now, miguel just waits for your return.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

you enter hollister and start searching clothes for miguel. since he isn’t specific, you just decide to get basic clothing. you walk into the shirt aisle, glancing at the choices then picked a large basic black shirt. moving to the pants section, you don’t take miguel as a pants guy so you pick a pair of gray sweatpants. then you head towards the shoes area, noticed they sell vans. you choose the iconic black high top vans. then you remember him mentioning a hat, you pick a black cap. finally, you manage to get all items and purchase them at the register. thankfully, this universe does use apple pay. miguel owns you $55; expensive bastard.

after 15 minutes, just like you said, you exit out of the store and walk back to the alleyway. you find miguel standing behind a dumpster. he’s still visible, his abnormal figure doesn’t help him. you chuckle at the thought. once you reach him, you hand him the bag of clothes which he takes it from your grasp.

“you gotta change asap. you don’t want anyone looking at you weirdly in a latex suit.” you merely chuckle at the thought. “plus, you own me $55.”

he takes note of the payment. “where am i supposed to change then, tonta?” he asks sarcastically, clearly annoyed by your chuckling.

“just change right there.” you point to the side of the dumpster. “i’ll keep an eye out.”

miguel glances at the spot you pointed out then back to you with an unimpressed look. “are you serious? that’s the worst spot.”

“fine then. change right in the middle of alleyway so everyone can look.” you joke, placing your hands on your hips with a smirk on your lips.

he quietly growls then goes to the side of the dumpster to change.

you turn around to give him privacy. you glance around the area but also try to not look suspicious by randomly standing in front of a dumpster.

after a few minutes, you feel a large presence next to you. it’s obviously miguel. you turn around to look at him. you are a bit surprised. he is wearing the black shirt. it acts more like a compression shirt which outlines his muscles much more. also the gray sweatpants and the basic black vans. to be honest, it’s strange to see him dressed in causal clothing. not gonna lie, he looks fine. of course you keep that to yourself. but what catches your attention more is the black baseball cap he is wearing.

he notices your strange expression. miguel looks awkwardly confused at you, crossing his arms. “what?” he asks.

“never thought you would be a hat guy.” you confess as you start walking out of the alleyway.

he just scoffs and follows you.

once you both exit the alleyway, you turn right and walk down the sidewalk. miguel gently places a hand on your hip moving you towards the inside of the sidewalk so he can walk on the outside. as protection if case of cars or other potential dangers.

to be honest, you love it when guys do that. you find that attractive as hell.

“by the way, we need a plan. like a real one. who knows long how we’re gonna be stuck here.” you start insisting on one because there is no possibility of getting out of here anytime soon.

“plan? we don’t need a plan.” he argues.

“o’hara, seriously. we really need to come up with a one.” you protest. it is vital to start developing a plan on your stay here in this universe but miguel is being a total asshole about it like he refuses to.

“once this shit is fixed, we’ll be outta here. case closed.” he says while walking.

“we need to search for motels. we’re not gonna get back anytime soon. might as well find a place to stay so we don’t have to worry later on.” you insist.

“finding a motel won’t be necessary. i’ll fix my gizmo as soon as possible then we’ll be back at HQ before you even know it.” he is really insisting on fixing that damn watch, which is bothering you to the max. miguel has a firm belief he would fix it and get back like with no problem. he is one stubborn motherfucker. it pisses you off.

you stop walking and look at him, brows frowning. “would you just please listen for once? it’s the better option because there’s literally no other option.” you speak the truth. being stuck here with a fucked up gizmo that most definitely will not work again is bad. finding a motel to stay is the first priority.

“it’s not my fault you’re so stubborn.” he jokes as he stops as well, looking down at you with a smirk.

your eyes widen, mouth hung open a little in offense. you have the expression of ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ on your face. “god you’re infuriating, you know that?” your brows frown, extremely pissed off now that he called you the stubborn one.

miguel returns the same expression. just as he is about to speak again, a voice calls out your name.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˖ ࣪ ༘ @deputy-videogamer @saturnknows

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓐𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #fanfic series

78 notes · View notes

gimmethatagustd · 2 years

Text

repeat offense | ksj

The are only two constants in life: the promise of death and the infuriating existence of the man who ruined your life. Will your immortal punishments keep you in an infinite loop, or will you one day be able to rid the world of the evil that is Kim Seokjin?

» pairing: demon!seokjin x demon!reader (ft. angel!yoongi)

» wc/date: 3.6k | november 2022

» notes: PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS 💀 i hope y'all enjoy whatever the fuck this turned out to be lol. also rip to me posting this depressing ass fic on my fucking birthday. sorry to jin for my first fic of him being sad

» masterlist

» what was jai listening to? mind games - sickick

If it weren’t for your sixth sense, you would have never seen him coming.

It wasn’t some cliche tingling that set off the alarm bells ringing in your ear; it was more of an increasing hum of energy vibrating through your body, like a bullet ricocheting inside your bones. But sensing him was only half the battle. Now you had to figure out who he was. And it was always changing.

You brought your glass of bourbon to your lips and took a small sip, the ice clinking together.

“Another?” The bartender with smiling eyes dried off his hands with the small towel he kept tucked into his apron pocket. He jutted his chin at your now-finished drink.

“I’d like to close my tab, please.”

Initially, your suspicions made you hone in on the bartender, but you quickly ruled him out after he returned your credit card and receipt. In blue ink was his name and phone number scribbled on the back of the paper.

You pocketed it, just in case.

You had to admit, the body you were currently possessing was hot. It was a shame whoever originally owned it wasn’t able to take advantage of it now. Perhaps you would show the bartender everything this body was capable of later. But right now you were looking for someone else.

Departing the bar counter, you made your way toward the back of the dimly-lit bar, as though you were heading to the restroom. At a fork in the hallway, you turned left instead of right, slipping through a service door. You stepped out into the dark alley behind the building, rain-soaked gravel and cigarette butts crunching beneath your boots.

The heat from the bar continued to warm your back and you didn’t hear the door click shut behind you. Before you had the chance to turn around, a slender hand wrapped around your bicep and yanked you backward.

Even though the demon had a different body than the last time you’d seen him, you immediately recognized him for who he really was. That was the other power of your sixth sense; coming into contact with another demon would cause both of your eyes to momentarily bleed into all-black orbs before returning to normal once again.

“Kim Seokjin,” you sneered a greeting at the man and pressed against his throat the small dagger you kept hidden in your boot. “So this is the body you picked?”

In any other circumstances, you would have found him gorgeous. His dark hair was swept to the side to reveal a strong forehead and serious eyes. His lips naturally fell into a plump pout, though his mouth was now twisted into a smirk.

But you weren’t interested in entertaining a whistleblower, no matter how attractive.

“Are you not impressed?”

When you were forced to possess a body, you didn’t have a say in who you got. You were immediately bound to whichever unfortunate soul happened to cross paths with you first; it was pure luck. Still, you got too much pleasure mocking Seokjin to care about the logistics of it all.

“It’s better than last time. London, was it? It was a shame to see such an old woman’s soul go to waste because of you.” The tip of your dagger created a dent in Seokjin’s skin, but you weren’t applying enough pressure to draw blood.

Yet.

“Go to waste because of you,” Seokjin corrected.

“Oh fuck off. Your sad song has fallen on deaf ears for centuries, Kim. It’s time you give up the act.”

You felt a cool, blunt object press into your rib cage. Looking down, you were met with a handgun.

Once you noticed the firearm, Seokjin leaned into you and caused your dagger to prick a small mark on his skin. A few droplets of blood slid down his throat, but it didn’t deter him from flashing a toothy grin in your face.

“You’re fucking deranged,” you breathed. A gun was smart; why hadn’t you considered buying one the moment you’d spawned in this body? If you were lucky Seokjin would at least kill you quickly.

He wouldn’t, though. You wanted each other to suffer and you both knew it.

“You wish I was deranged.” Seokjin’s sing-songy voice dripped honey as he spoke. “It would mean the Prince of Darkness made a mistake in banishing you to the mortal world. He wouldn’t like to hear that you think he made a mistake, would he?”

The glint in his eye said more than his words did.

“You were the mistake,” you hissed, spitting at Seokjin’s feet. “I should have never trusted you.”

“I should have never loved you.”

He let out a growl and jabbed you in the ribs. The clash of metal against bone made you step backward and Seokjin was relieved from the point of your dagger. The tip was coated in a thin sheen of blood.

Once upon a time, neither of you could bleed - back when your bodies were your own and the two of you sat on either side of the throne of Satan, the Prince of Darkness as you once fondly called him, as his most trusted advisors. Some days, in the summer months or whenever you lived in warm climates, you could remember the lick of eternal flames at your ankles as you roamed the castle you’d once called your home.

The Prince was more so about aesthetics than about burning people alive, though you had just barely missed that fate yourself.

You often wondered if being consumed by those flames would’ve been better than the torture you were bound to for eternity, or until the Prince of Darkness decided to destroy Earth completely.

“If I remember correctly, you were the one begging me to help you find a way to Heaven,” Seokjin pushed forward. Now he had the gun pressed into your chest in full view of anyone who might step into the alleyway. It didn’t matter if anyone saw the two of you. Mortals couldn’t do anything worse to you than you could do to each other or yourselves.

“And you agreed to help, didn’t you?”

Right now you were out of options. A dagger would never win against a gun, and running would only get you so far.

“That would mean you were the mistake.” Seokjin must have seen the calculated look on your face because his sickeningly sweet smile grew as he backed you up against the building. “Trying to find a way out, love?”

Seokjin ran the gun along your chest and up your neck, eventually stopping at your face. You took a shaky breath as you felt the cold metal of the muzzle graze your cheek, not realizing Seokjin was using the barrel to brush the hair from your face.

“What’s the point in killing me, Seokjin? We waste our time chasing each other across the globe and for what reason? The result is always the same: we die, we respawn, we continue the cycle.”

At one point, you’d believed there could be an end. That one day, death would be permanent; that one day, one of you would win. Perhaps you pathetically underestimated the Prince of Darkness’s cruelty towards traitors. He’d made it impossible for you and Seokjin to do anything but live a thousand lives and die a thousand deaths.

What made it worse was knowing none of it would have ever happened if Seokjin hadn’t turned you in. The fact that he did so, knowing he too would be punished… It certainly spoke to the contempt he had for you.

Seokjin leaned into you so close your knees bumped into each other. Your eyes flickered black just as his did and you realized with a lump in your throat that you couldn’t remember what the two of you had looked like in your own bodies before the Prince banished you to a mortal existence for your crimes.

You wondered what the price of such a crime looked like in Heaven.

“We must die eventually,” Seokjin whispered. “And I intend to be the reason why you do.”

“Fuck you.”

You jammed your knee as hard as you could in between Seokjin’s legs. He immediately doubled over in pain and you didn’t stop to watch him sink to the ground.

Running away from Seokjin was running away from the inevitable, but you did it anyway. There was nowhere for you to go but away.

Your boots slapped against the wet concrete as you bolted down the alley. The cool autumn air felt damp and thick in your lungs, sitting heavily on your chest. It was a discomfort you never felt before being banished to Earth. Hell was brittle and dry. Earth reminded you more of Heaven.

The only time you’d gone to Heaven, you’d been shocked by the comfort of clouds. You remembered feeling the mist of condensation from the clouds melt the hardness of your skin and allow moisture to seep into the cracks lining your exposed skin.

The force of Seokjin’s body colliding with yours propelled you forward faster than your legs could keep up. You heard your knee crack and the skin busted open, leaking blood over the loose chunk of concrete you’d fallen onto. Your blood turned the muddy puddle swirling in the pothole under your limbs a dirty maroon. The wound in your knee was overpowered by the sting of gravel digging into the butt of your palms and your shoulder as your arms collapsed beneath you.

Almost immediately Seokjin was fisting the back of your shirt, hauling you onto your feet with a hard yank. The fabric pulled too tightly around your throat.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Seokjin hummed, his lips ghosting over your ear before you felt the cool metal of the gun against your temple. “Was your precious Yoongi worth it?”

You waited for the click of the trigger as the sky opened up. The rain came down in blurry sheets that wobbled your vision and made the gun heavy in Seokjin’s hand. You could tell because you felt it slip down your temple, eventually landing on the apple of your cheek.

Loving Yoongi had been worth enduring the most terrible of deaths, even at the hands of Seokjin - a man you’d once considered a dear friend.

Where you’d worn darkness like a silk cloak, Yoongi brought a light so blinding you swore his image was seared into your retinas.

God’s radiance couldn’t have compared.

“He still is.”

The rain washed the blood from the gash in your knee and Seokjin planted a bullet in your brain.

“That’s it, cum for me, angel.”

Real angels didn’t have halos like humans liked to say they did, but Yoongi emanated a glow so brilliant he bathed you in a soft yellow hue as you fell apart on top of him. Swift, gentle fingers massaged your clit and coaxed a third orgasm out of you. His hand was warm as he squeezed your hip, holding you in place while you nearly crumpled inward with the force of his final thrust into you.

Strands of white hair framed his head when he laid back down on the silky sheets. His forehead and cheeks practically glittered with perspiration in the warm glow from the intimacy you’d shared.

There was nothing more beautiful, in this life or any beyond.

Yoongi ran his fingers along your side profile. When they ticked your jawline, you ducked your head to escape the feeling.

“Talk to me, angel.”

Pain twisted in your stomach, but you swallowed it down. If only you were an angel.

“I love you.” You whispered the sweet confession into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Even though you had defiled his innocence, you felt the purity of his soul radiate from his body. The feeling made you shiver when you curled into his side.

Something dark and thick sat heavy in your chest. You’d felt it the moment you stepped foot in Heaven. It made you want to recoil from the angel, even as you so desperately clung to him.

“I love you, too.” Yoongi intertwined his fingers with yours. He brought your hand to his lips and his touch pierced your skin like a hot iron. “I’d always thought angels weren’t capable of love.” His voice hummed in his throat against your cheek.

You shifted your face to press a kiss against his smooth skin. He made a happy noise and you squeezed your eyes shut when the glow of his skin became too bright to bear.

“Well, love outside of a love for God. Secular love,” he continued. “But I feel it with you. I know that it is love, even though it’s so different. It’s… it’s…” Yoongi cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “It feels special. It feels just for me.”

You felt his lips against your forehead, but you kept your eyes closed, content with watching colors dance along your eyelids.

“You’re changing me,” you whispered against his jaw with your head tilted up.

“Hmm?”

“Inside. It’s lighter.”

Yoongi tightened his grip around your waist.

This was when your memory became blurry. No matter how many restless hours you spent replaying the moment over and over in your head deep into the night, you couldn’t remember how you went from cuddling in your lover's arms to testifying in the High Court. Even the trial was less of a memory and more like slivers of moments that flashed across your mind’s eye.

The heaviness of the chains the Archangels draped over your body as you stood in front of a jury and audience of angel onlookers excited to see a demon in the flesh. A whore of a demon, nonetheless. A whore who had defiled the holiest of spaces and led one of their own into sin.

Seokjin with the same heavenly chains restraining his body, but carrying a look of triumph on his face.

Yoongi with his wings clipped.

An angel could never commit themselves to anything or anyone other than God, and especially not to a lowly, evil, disgusting demon.

You wished your brain would let you forget the broken look of dread on Yoongi’s face as the Archangels dragged you and Seokjin out of the courtroom.

You’d never seen him without his heavenly glow before.

And you'd never see him again, at all.

With a gasp, you flung your head and smacked the back of it into the headrest of the seat you were in. Your fingers squeezed around the car's steering wheel and you jerked on the wheel hard to avoid slamming into the car in front of you. The car you cut off in the next lane laid down on their horn, but you focused your attention on seeing through the watery image of the street you were on.

It was jarring every time you respawned into a new body, no matter how many times it happened before. Getting your bearings was difficult enough in itself. Add operating heavy machinery in a torrential downpour and it was downright dangerous.

A purse sat in the passenger seat. At a stoplight, you frantically sifted through the contents. Lipstick, a pocket mirror, a lone tampon - until your fingers brushed against something cool and glass.

Finding a phone was usually the best first step when respawning. Everyone kept everything on their phones, and with facial recognition, you didn’t even have to guess a passcode anymore. Scrolling through the phone’s contents, you located the maps app and put in the saved location, “Home” - wherever that would take you. All you knew was that you needed to get as far away from Seokjin as possible.

You were tired. Tired of searching, of fighting, even of running, though you knew running was now your only option. What were you supposed to do? Give up? Endure the pain of him killing you over and over again, in hopes that one day it would work?

No fucking way.

You pulled up to a modest suburban house with a white picket fence and evidence of children from the chalk drawings that covered the sidewalk and driveway. An unwelcomed thought tugged at you as you climbed the stairs to the front door, housekeys shaking in your hand.

In another life, this is what you and Yoongi could have had.

“Oh, honey. You’re home early?” A man’s voice called out from the living room. He poked his head into the hallway to see you standing in the entranceway. Your clothes clung to you with cold rainwater. “Honey, you’re soaked!”

Something about the way he called you honey made your skin crawl. Only one person was allowed to call you such names. And he certainly wasn’t this man, with messy hair and a too-pink face. Nothing about him glowed.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Speaking for the first time in a new body was odd, to say the least. You never knew what you would sound like and your voice always felt like it was coming from somewhere behind you like you were hearing someone else speak while you moved your lips along to their sounds. Your limbs were clumsy when you stomped up the stairs. You didn’t know where the bathroom was, obviously, but you assumed there would be one on each floor. You silently prayed that the man - who you assumed was your husband - wouldn’t follow you up.

Not that God would listen.

But your husband didn’t protest or follow and that was a small victory you would accept.

Free to roam, you checked every door until you found the bedroom. A small desk sat in the corner of the large room, a laptop sitting on top. You quickly sat down and pressed the spacebar. To your luck, the laptop was already logged into and unlocked. Having done this a million times by this point, you scrolled through the phone you’d found. People usually kept their passwords in the notes on their phones, particularly if they were middle-aged, which is what you assumed your body was. No one ever aged in Hell; it was weird to feel creaky and fatigued.

Finding what you needed was easy, just like it was easy to buy a plane ticket to a country on the other side of the world (under your husband’s airline membership because you might as well get him the mileage points while you kidnapped his wife). Luckily, your host was rich. The ticket didn’t put a dent in their bank account, leaving you with plenty of money to live off of until you died again or the credit card got canceled.

A tiny part of you felt terrible dragging a suitcase down the stairs and hauling it into the taxi out front while your husband frantically begged you not to leave. It was never worth it to come up with an excuse; making up fake reasons like divorce or imaginary business trips only caused more pain, in your opinion. No, it was better to stay silent, even though it pushed a sharp pain into your heart no matter how many times you had to break up families and friends. Silence prevented a fight.

So you kept your mouth shut from the moment you left the house until you were forced to interact with the airport employees. At least your host had a valid passport, you told yourself as you waited at the gate for your plane. It was important to acknowledge the small victories, you reminded yourself. Maybe one sliver of a silver lining was that living in host bodies allowed you to do things you’d never done before, to go places you’ve never been, and to have no real sense of responsibility aside from staying alive.

By the time the plane arrived, you were exhausted. Respawning took a toll on your body as your host’s soul often attempted to fight against you, to push through your oppressive presence inside their heads, inside their bodies. It was useless, but they didn’t know that.

You couldn’t blame them. It felt unnatural being in their bodies for you, too.

For now, a weight was lifted off your shoulders as you sank into your seat on the plane. The close quarters of the plane felt comforting; it was tight and uniform. No spontaneity. No surprises. It was the same every time: ticketing, security, waiting at the gate, waiting in line, finding your seat. You would fall asleep or listen to music or watch the clouds float in the atmosphere unrestrained like you longed to be.

As the remaining passengers slowly trickled in, you hoped the seat next to you would stay empty, though it always seemed like that never happened.

With a sigh, you leaned your elbow on the arm of your seat and gazed out at the airport employees loading everyone’s baggage. You didn’t look away until you felt that hum of energy that made your teeth clatter and fear to splinter your bones.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.”

Seokjin buckled himself into the seat next to you and leaned against your shoulder. His lips just barely breathed warm air against the side of your face, but it was enough to make your skin shiver.

Just then the flight attendant announced an update regarding the plane’s estimated time of arrival. Ten hours. A ten-hour flight with Kim Seokjin at your elbow, a sickly sweet smile blooming across his face as you know yours twisted in dread.

“It’s cute you thought you could run, love.” He ran his fingers along your jawline. “Adorable.”

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

@evanssgi @guks-lip-piercing @haliiimede @astronaut-jin-moon @jjkeverlast @klitklittredge @koobsessed @moonchild1 @moonleeai @parkdatjimin @reliablemitten @saweetspoiled @sugarwithtea @taegiblr @yoongukie-ff

213 notes · View notes

mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Note

HEY THERE!!! May I request something? <3

How about Madara slowly realizing his feelings for reader after denying it for so long! How would he realize? How would he approach the reader?

NSFW would also be welcome 😏

😏😏

I'm sorry these took so long, I would've had them finished yesterday BUT I LOST ALL MY WRITING WHEN I WAS AT THE END and that took all my motivation honestly haha. Sorry if these aren't quite what you were looking for, thank you for asking though

This is both the angstiest, softest, and shortest smut I've ever written.

(These are headcanons but honestly they're more than long enough to make a fic so uh...oops)

Madara Uchiha, though he’d deny it, is the type that would fall first. But he’d equate his feelings to only lust in the beginning. He’d see her first, notice her first, and approach first but all with intention.

The era he comes from is heavy with political marriage. His marriage would most likely already be prearranged. But he'd still approach you, a fling between a man and a woman has nothing to do with someone he hasn't met.

He'd call out to you, "Oi," his gruff voice and rude way of speaking would immediately put you off. You would have no idea who he is, not really up to date on all the ins and outs of shinobi. With an annoyed look on your face, you'd ignore him.

But he wouldn't give up, a ninja is one who endures after all. He'd take every opportunity he could find to approach you again, more interested in the challenge you presented then what he had originally intended. Madara would begin to follow you, without him realizing at first, he'd do it in the name of seeking opportunity but eventually it'd just become a habit.

By that point, you'd know who he is, but the game you started was a bit too fun so you'd purposefully ignore him, a sly smile on your face. You liked infuriating a powerful man like him. His attentions would inflate your ego, if only a little. After all, who else could say they were being pursued by the Madara Uchiha?

The more he'd watch you, the more he'd learn about you. He'd smirk when you'd smile, roll his eyes at the lame jokes you'd tell your village's children. Watching your simple life became a bit of a comfort without his knowledge. Going from the bloody battlefield where any one of his comrades, or even himself, could lose their lives at any moment to watching you and your sleepy village made his heart ache.

But when a rogue shinobi clan invaded your home, he admired not only yours but the bravery of your people. Despite being weak, untrained, and lacking in experience he watched as you all faced your enemy head on. You especially, refused to back down. You'd spit in the face of your would be attacker, anger and spite swirling in your eyes like a storm.

Of course, he saw it as the perfect opportunity. At least, that's what he told himself, but his rage at your potential violation was clear as day as he easily tore into the man who had attempted to harm his property. The rest of that clan were like flies, buzzing around and destroying what was his. He took care of them all.

His anger only mounted when he saw the red irritation marks on your wrists and neck, like proof of his inability to protect you. He'd take your wrist in his own, the sheer difference in size and strength furthering his wrath. What kind of shinobi preyed on such weaklings? Where was their pride? Their sense of honor?

"Thank you," your quiet voice gave him pause. "For saving me."

His grip on your wrist would tighten, his chest uncomfortable. One look from your eyes was enough to placate him and he hated it. How could some helpless girl hold so much sway over him? He was getting too close, he had to fix it. Place some distance before he did something he'd regret.

You flinched, his grip too tight. Madara let go immediately, put on his normal mask of bravado and say, "Why don't you show me just how thankful you are?" He intended to hurt you, he felt his heart squeeze as the words left his lips.

He thought he'd succeeded as he watched you look away from him. There, it's finished, he'd think. No more weakness. But you'd surprise him, your trembling hand reaching out and grabbing his wrist with all your might. It was pathetic. You'd look him straight in the eyes and nod. The Uchiha was dumbstruck.

You'd led him to your home without saying a word, closed and locked the doors before looking back at him with determination. With a nervous approach, you'd get on your tiptoes and place a chaste kiss on his lips. He'd be stock still, you'd be nervous from head to toe. Just this once, he'd think. I'll take advantage of your naivete. Madara would embrace you, envelope you in his large frame, and force his way into your mouth.

Eventually, he'd have you on your back on your futon, clothes off and thrown about the home; your breasts moving with your rapid breaths, your legs spread open with shining arousal coating your inner thighs. You look beautiful, he'd think but while his mouth moved without thought. "How low must your value be for you to give yourself to me."

"If its you," you'd start, your body flushed with pleasure. "I know you've been watching me. I have no qualms giving myself to you." There it was again, that heavy uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He hated it. "You'll regret that," he'd respond, unable to look you in the eye.

Your arms reached out and wrapped around his neck and you pulled him in for a kiss full of all your unspoken feelings. His arms trembled. He didn't need this, the last thing Madara needed was someone else to lose; for more loved ones to be placed in an unmarked grave. But his lips moved instinctively, reciprocating all of your emotions, unspoken word for unspoken word. His hips pushing forward, his member splitting you slowly.

The two of you moved together, breathed together. He had never felt such ecstasy in his life. Grunting in exertion, he spilled his release inside of you and the warmth of his spend caused you to tumble off your own cliff.

He stayed with you until you fell asleep, his mind swirling with thoughts and suppressed feelings. If he stayed with you, he'd never want to leave, his weakness would increase, but if he left he'd never be able to feel your warmth or see your smile again. His clan needed its leader, Izuna an older brother to protect him. Your presence made him wish he could have that dream that Hashirama had spoken of long ago.

Madara made his choice, as hard as it was. He left without a word. Back to the battlefield, back to his clan, back to his brother. He wondered if you cried, if you looked for him, or if this was the outcome you had expected all along.

A few years later found him on his back, giving Hashirama the ultimatum that'd begin the formation of the Uchiha-Senju alliance. As Konoha grew he wondered if this would have happened if he'd stayed. He supposed it was for the better, the village being as important as it was, but the emptiness in his heart continued to remind him of the love he chose to leave.

"Madara," Hashirama called, his usual cheer obvious by his smile. "A new clan arrived today, a civilian one! Isn't it exciting?" The Uchiha's heart skipped a beat but he knew better. Even if it was your people, would you even be with them? Maybe you had married some other man from some other clan. But then Hashirama continued and he said the name of your village and Madara couldn't help but run off toward the new settlement area.

And there you were, the same smile on your face as you told a disgruntled Tobirama one of your lame jokes. There were flowers in your hair, poorly placed and half falling out; a little girl, about three or four years old, with black hair and onyx eyes, gripping your skirts nervously. The resemblance was undeniable, the little girl the picture perfect Uchiha. He felt like he might stop breathing.

Your squinted for a moment and you looked up at the roof he was watching from. Your smile fell, and his heart dropped to his stomach. Of course you were unhappy to see him, he'd saddled you with a child and left. How had he expected anything different? But before he could leave in shame and wallow in his pity, you smiled again and ushered the child forward. You bent at the waist and pointed in his direction saying, "Ito, do you see that man up there?" The girl nodded slowly. "That's your father, and he helped make this village."

A/N: Ito means thread, so RC named their daughter that as she is the red thread connecting her to Madara, which I think is very sweet.

#madara uchiha smut #madara uchiha #naruto series #madara uchiha x reader #madara x y/n #madara x you #madara smut #madara angst #mortyvongola 2 0 fanfic #mortyvongola2 0 requests #madara uchiha headcanons #naruto fanfiction #mortyvongola2 anon

669 notes · View notes

owl127 · 1 year

Note

Could you write alpha Clarke and omega Lexa struggle trying to conceive a baby?

read on Ao3

The blurred image focuses on a woman sitting down on the single chair in the frame. Behind her is a large window with sleek modern architecture reflecting on tinted glass. She clears her throat, pats her button-up shirt, and an accompanying thud follows her hand.

"You don’t need to touch it," a voice says from behind the camera. "Speak normally, and we get it."

A shade of pink takes over her cheeks under the set lights. She chuckles, tucking blonde hair behind an ear. On the lower left, captions appear: Clarke Griffin, patient #013, 40 years old. Female Alpha.

"Thank you for agreeing with the post-treatment documentation," says the same unnamed voice, a soprano woman. "As we said before, this will only be shared with other future patients."

Clarke nods. "You changed my life. I’m happy to help."

"Can you talk a little bit about how you felt when you were diagnosed?"

Clarke works her jaw back and forth, looking down at her polished shoes then up at the camera again.

"Well. Basically, it sucked."

0000

The punching bag moved back and forth with each new impact. Clarke’s knuckles ached and her wrist screamed, but she kept delivering punch after punch into the bright red canvas. Pain flared at her joints, and sweat ran down her back, but she needed it to keep her thoughts at bay.

Thoughts of how much of a useless alpha she was.

"Clarke?"

It was the second time Lexa came to check in on her. At first, it was an innocent call for dinner, but now Lexa’s voice had a layer of worry on it.

"Clarke."

Clarke didn’t stop the punching. Jab, lower, jab, jab. Her gloves burned with friction, but those jabs were the only thing keeping her from facing her incapacity to—

"I brought you coconut water," Lexa said from behind her. Clarke stopped, wiped sweat from her face, saw how useless that was since she was completely drenched, and shrugged.

"Thank you." She didn’t look Lexa in the eyes as she accepted the bottle, downing it in three long gulps. Dehydration. Just what her body needed, being this useless bag of meat and—

"Clarke." Lexa placed a hand on her shoulder, coaxing Clarke to face her. Lexa wasn’t angry, which infuriated Clarke more. Lexa should be furious, doing to her what Clarke was doing to that bag. But Lexa wasn’t pitiful, and for that, Clarke was grateful. She wouldn’t be able to deal with pity. "Come up, eat something. You’ve been here for hours."

Clarke took a deep breath and toyed with the lid of her bottle. "I needed… I needed to—"

Uncareful of her sweat, Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke. Warm, comforting. This was Lexa, her mate, her wife. The woman she promised the world to—and who she now failed to keep promises to.

"We’ll be alright," Lexa said into Clarke’s messy ponytail, nudging at the scar she left there years ago. "I get that you’re angry. But don’t blame yourself, my love. This new treatment is available, and—"

"We only need that because I’m a fucking failure," Clarke confessed, and Lexa’s hands on her skin tightened their grip.

"Don’t say things like that." She pulled back and guided Clarke to meet her eyes with a hand on her chin. "You’re my wife, and I love you. All of you. Don’t say things like that about yourself."

"It still doesn't change the fact that I'm a half-baked alpha."

"If I were the one with a complication, would you say those things to me?"

Clarke swallowed. "Of course not."

"So please don’t say that." Lexa kissed her cheek. "I love you."

"I’m sorry." Clarke thought the hours of punching and sweating would keep the tears away, but here they were, strong and ugly and burning just like her hands. "I’m so sorry that I can’t be the partner you need." Lexa held her. In the damp air of their basement, Lexa held Clarke and let her cry like the insolent pup she was.

"You’re exactly what I need," Lexa promised. "Nothing will change that."

Lexa was convinced. Clarke admired her for that. If only she could believe it.

0000

The image depicts a bright room with green plants in colorful pots framing the lonely chair in the center. The woman sitting on it is reading a paper, glasses low on her nose.

"Ready to roll, Mrs. Woods?" The soprano voice asks from behind the lenses. Lexa folds the paper, and a blur of a person picks it up from her hands. A similar inscription from before appears on the bottom left: Lexa Woods. Clarke Griffin’s mate and wife. 38 years old. Female Omega.

"Yes," Lexa says, folding her reading glasses and placing them in her front shirt pocket. "Whenever you’re ready."

"Have you ever dated another Alpha before meeting Clarke?"

Lexa’s facial expression does not change as she says, "No."

"When did either of you suspect something was wrong?"

Lexa sits straighter in the chair, her lips twitching twice before she finally says, "We were mated and married for six years when we tried to conceive." She pauses, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "We had never knotted before, so we had no idea what to expect. But eventually, we realized something was wrong."

"Was it a mutual realization?"

"Clarke noticed it first. But I don’t think she brought it up until it was unavoidable."

0000

Clarke never knew there was something wrong with her. She never really thought that she might be a little off until Liam. Anya had just started showing, complaining about Clarke's food and everything else.

"I didn’t know you were planning for a baby," Clarke said, hands soaked in bubbles. "But I’m really glad for you, Raven." They could hear their wives laughing from the dining room.

"Planning?" Raven snorted, shaking the kitchen towel to get another plate to dry. "That kid planned itself. That is, I really wasn’t planning to knot, but it happened, and well, in five months there will be a pup around. Get used to the idea."

Clarke frowned at the fork she was washing and watched the suds drip down the metal surface. "What do you mean you didn’t plan to knot?"

Raven placed a dry plate on the rack. "I was in rut. You know." She shrugged, and Clarke honest-to-god did not know.

"Do you always knot when you rut?"

"If I’m not super-extra-careful, yeah. Don’t you?" Raven asked in a laugh, but stopped at seeing whatever was going on with Clarke’s face. "Don’t you?" she repeated. Clarke felt her face warming.

She looked back at the fork. There was a stubborn piece of potato stuck to it.

0000

They talked about it. Extensively. They talked about costs, space, and time. But Clarke knew what the decision would be since the day Lexa had seen little Liam—all red-faced and crying his lungs out in Anya’s arms—and some maternal instinct sparked to life in her.

They wanted a baby.

The bed creaked with Clarke’s vigorous thrusts. Lexa met her push for push, her hips seeking Clarke’s in tandem. Lexa was not a passive omega; she took what she wanted, and Clarke loved her for that. She loved her mate, she loved her wife, and now she loved that they would make a new life together.

"Are you close?" Lexa panted in her ear.

Clarke nodded, her cheek hitting Lexa’s chin in the process. None cared. "Yeah. I think," she exhaled, slowing their movements to adjust her hips. Lexa moaned. "I’m not sure how long it takes," Clarke breathed, hoping her tone was steady.

"I have no idea." Lexa kissed her neck, licking the mating bite there. "It’s the first time we’re doing this." It should feel exciting. Lexa sounded excited. Clarke wasn’t sure.

Don’t you?

Sometimes she thought about Raven’s puzzled look when she admitted she had never knotted. But her friend had patted her on the back and said that each person was different. Clarke had never really tried to knot, so it was alright.

But right now, in rut, Clarke was actively trying, and Lexa had come twice, and they had changed positions twice as much, and Lexa would get sore, and Clarke could not get her damn knot to work.

"Come back to me." Lexa’s hands massaged the tight clench of Clarke’s jaw. They slowed until they stopped. Lexa sighed, but Clarke continued to pant. "What’s wrong, love?"

Clarke didn’t know. Or she did, and she did not want to voice it, because then it would be real, and Lexa would care, and they would have to go to doctors, and Clarke would be a failure as a wife.

"Clarke?" Puzzled, Lexa leaned back to find Clarke’s eyes, but Clarke avoided them. Clarke pulled out, their gasps mangling for a moment before she left the bed. "Clarke?" Naked and worried, Lexa followed her into their bathroom. The room smelled of sweat and sex. "What’s wrong?"

Clarke splashed water on her face and looked down at herself. Her erection, covered in Lexa, had an uneven swell at the base. She touched it, one large palm pressing on it, but she barely felt it. It wasn't like other alphas talked about it. It was like she was numb. Lexa watched from the door, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Are you going to talk to me or—"

"I don’t think I can knot."

There. It was real.

0000

Clarke drinks from a water bottle while an assistant runs the mic check. A voice behind the camera mumbles, "We should try asking anyway." A new light turns on at Clarke’s right and she squints at it.

"So Clarke," the same voice from before says, now louder. "How were the side effects of the injection?"

Clarke takes another drag from her water bottle, her eyebrows rising at the question. She places the bottle next to her chair.

"Like almost everything about this treatment, it totally sucked."

0000

"Fucking hell!" Clarke breathed through her nose, hard and gasping, her hands white with the effort of holding on to their granite sink. "Give me a moment," she gasped.

Lexa kissed her cheek, brushing the sweat away. "I got you," she whispered, always calm and serene during Clarke’s outbursts.

Clarke had been all courage and bravado until the needle—bigger than what it looked like in the doctor’s office—touched her knot. The injection site felt like fire, and every day the pain got worse. She knew it would be like this, at least until her knot inflated for the first time, and hell, that was another headache she wasn’t ready to think about just yet.

"If it hurts like that, it means it’s working," Lexa tried to argue, which did not help with the fact that Clarke’s cock was on fire. "Blood is flowing there for the first time, honey," Lexa continued to sooth, an ice bag in hand, ready for the aftercare. "Most alphas take years to go through what you’re going through in a few weeks. Give yourself some grace."

Clarke grunted, sat back on the closed toilet lid, spread her legs, and nodded. "Okay. Okay. I’m okay." Lexa kissed the top of her head and went for the second injection.

0000

Lexa hisses at something behind the camera, the mic turned off and not catching whatever accompanied the reprimand. The voice-only director clears her throat and says, "Patient 13’s, that is, Clarke’s file says her mate was the one administering the injections. That’s you." Lexa focuses on the right of the camera, sitting taller in her chair in the plant-filled room."How did you feel about that?"

"I’m not medically trained, but the mechanics of it weren't hard." She smiles, a small little thing under lights and makeup. She's aging gracefully. "Clarke was very vulnerable, and she trusted me. I would advise mates to give it a shot if they can handle the whining."

"Whining?"

"I suppose most alphas don’t take kindly to injections on their knots."

There is a chuckle off camera and a loud noise; someone else is yelling, "The mic is down!" and the off-camera voice comes back, "Cut, cut!" while Lexa chastises, "You two get down here!"

0000

Clarke woke up feeling like she had gone to hell. Everything burned. Her sleep shirt was soaked, her pajama shorts drenched, and her hair plastered to her forehead. As she sat up on the bed, she moaned, her muscles tensing. Lexa mumbled something next to her, that little sleepy snort she claimed she didn’t do every time she woke up.

"Fuck," Clarke gasped, holding on to the wall as she tried to stand up. Besides her entire body burning, her crotch ached with a pain-pleasure mix Clarke was not conscious enough to judge.

"Clarke?" Lexa asked from the bed as Clarke tumbled to the bathroom, half-awake and limping. Clarke almost fell as she kicked her shorts and sat in the bathtub, turning the water cold.

"Babe?" Wrapped in Clarke’s robe, Lexa remained on the threshold, her eyes suddenly awake. "Is it happening?"

Clarke looked at her and moaned, nodding. "It fucking burns," she whispered, and Lexa approached with caution.

"Do you want to be by yourself?" she asked, her naked feet silent on the bathroom tiles.

Clarke shook her head, extending a hand to Lexa. "Can you stay here with me?"

"Oh, my love." Lexa sat next to the bathtub, kissing Clarke’s burning cheeks. "Always."

0000

Clarke fidgets with her microphone again, and an assistant asks her to stop doing it. "And how did you feel when you could knot?" the director asks as Clarke looks up.

Clarke’s blush is more visible under the lights, and she touches an earring before answering, "Not everything about the treatment sucked."

0000

Lexa wouldn’t stop moaning. She was not always vocal, or at least not carelessly so, but as Clarke felt herself expanding inside her, Lexa wouldn’t stop the cadence of moans. Part of Clarke was worried, but most of her was lost in ecstatic bliss.

"Lex?" She gasped, her hips slowing as her range of motion was limited by her knot. "Talk to me, love," she insisted, because Lexa was tucked under her chin, an endless stream of incoherent words leaving her lips. As they slowed, spent and satisfied, finally tied, Lexa took another minute to simply gasp for air. Clarke held her, whispering small nothings. She tasted salt on Lexa’s cheeks. "Lex?"

"I’m—" Lexa tried, and they moaned together as she moved her hips. It wouldn’t budge; people were not kidding about that part. "Fuck," Lexa said, the first coherent thing in the last few minutes.

"That good?" Clarke wiggled her hips, and they moaned again, and Lexa slapped her back.

"Stop moving for a bit," she hissed. "But yeah, that good." Clarke nudged Lexa’s nose with her own, a delicate gesture like a small island in the middle of a sea of intense love making. "Are you good?" Lexa asked, finally taking a deep breath. Clarke nodded and nuzzled into Lexa’s nose again.

"I love you."

Lexa kissed her temple, and they shared a breath. "I love you too."

0000

"Why are we here?" the little girl in Clarke’s lap asks, looking up at her.

"To tell our story, baby." Clarke kisses the tops of her dark curls.

"Hello," the director calls from behind the camera, and the little girl’s attention moves away from Clake. "Hi," she repeats, "what’s your name?"

The girl looks up at Clarke, who nods, and then back at the camera. "Serah."

"How old are you, Serah?"

She proudly shows one hand with all five fingers and another two fingers on her other hand.

"That’s seven, right?" Serah nods, a missing incisor showing in her smile.

"She’s our oldest," Clarke chimes in, pulling her daughter a little closer. "The twins are three."

The image cuts to Lexa’s set, with two boys running around her chair as she types something on her phone. It cuts back to Clarke.

"So you can say, a hundred percent, that the treatment works," the director continues, and Clarke nods.

"It changed our lives."

The image shifts to a different set, with the entire family present. Clarke has a hand around Lexa’s waist, with Serah reaching up to her belly while the twins don’t get above her waist. Lexa placed each hand behind the twins' necks, keeping them in place.

"You have a beautiful family. Three beautiful, healthy pups," the voice from behind the says, and both Clarke and Lexa blush. Serah giggles, and the twins start poking each other. A silent conversation goes on between the mated pair, and it ends with a nod from Lexa.

"We’re actually expecting a fourth," Clarke reveals, one of her hands landing on the twin closest to her. The boys stop their poking.

"Congratulations! I guess three were not enough?"

"They’re definitely a handful," Clarke says as she picks up one of the twins, his blonde hair messed up by his brother’s hands. "This last one kind of… planned itself." She blushed, and Serah giggled again.

"I guess we finally understood what other couples meant by accidents during ruts," Lexa jokes, and there’s laughter in the background of the set.

"What’s a rut?" Serah asks, and the laughter increases in volume, even with the director joining in with a chuckle.

"I believe that’s a cut," Clarke says, grinning at the camera.

The image fades into black, and a centered caption appears.

The Woods-Griffin family had a healthy baby girl.

As expected, she was also a handful.

#ask the owl #prompts #look at me writing prompts like a normal author #art art art #write write write #I tried new things with this one #I hope you liked it dear anon #clexa #clexa fanfic #the 100 fanfiction

61 notes · View notes

ferdieinceladoncity · 2 days

Text

I have two million circling thoughts about 'milagro' and no confidence that I can get them out of my head, but it was so intensely interesting I feel like I have to try.

First of all, the most "this was quite obviously written by a man with little to no care or understanding of Not being a man" episode that I have seen so far. To the point that it smacks me over the head. No woman would act like this: you would run, so so far, the second a guy like that entered an elevator with you.

The scene in the church is incredible in terms of how it was acted. The resigned realisation of "god, he's that kind of creep. That's the kind of man he is. He's infatuated with me." the way she starts to cry, overwhelmed with the emotion of it all- the fear, knowing she's in very real danger. It hit me right in the gut.

I do understand what they were aiming with in terms of her character and her infatuation with Padgett. It's not news that Scully is a little bit fucked in the head (as kind as I can put it) and morbid curiosity drew her to his apartment (and, putting her possibly in the running for Stupidest Person ever, self destructive tendencies or not, drinks something he makes her) but the whole scene is almost *too* much. Like. Scully. You cannot be doing this. Possibly the actual scariest/most infuriating scene in the x-files that I've seen.

Then again, I keep yelling that there's no way any woman would be foolish enough to act like this, but she's not a very normal woman. Sorry, it's true. She runs headfirst into these moments of possible self-destruction stemming from her own severe insecurities over whatever her relationship is with Mulder, the circumstances and uncertainty and longevity of which would probably drive *me* a little crazy, especially off the tail end of all the drama of season 6, Diana and all that. I'll do this, I'll get myself into this awful situation, and maybe you'll have something to say about it.

To that end, I'm at odds with wether this is really so 'out of character' or not. I hate to see it. But it makes sense. We can't all be perfect and we certainly can't all make good choices.

Mulder in this episode (because I feel like I should dedicate a paragraph to him even though he's not front and centre) disappoints me a bit. I have at this point read a lot of other reviews of this episode on Tumblr and reddit and heard people praise how "protective" he was, "jealous" was a word used, and generally a lot of focus on the shippiness of this episode, to which I can't agree. He infuriated me just a little. I appreciate that he was down to slap Padgett in the cell and I appreciate that he went to the effort of stealing letters to find his name and all, yet when Scully first talks to him about Padgett after the church scene, telling him he's the one who gave her the milagro and he was frightening, all he has to ask is "do you think he's the killer?" not "are you okay" or anything of the sort. Yes, I know Scully's not the kind of person to really appreciate that. She can hold her own, or she'd like him to think so. Still. From *my* perspective, and this is *my* write-up, and *my* Tumblr blog. And I think it's a bothersome thing to say. Also, I roll my eyes at mulder referring to sex as "the naked pretzel." What's with this guy and censoring himself like he's writing a tiktok comment? Actually, between this and "the wild thing" back in genderbender, maybe he just has some crazy hang-up about referring to scully having a sexual encounter (real or imagined) in a serious context. Interesting.

...That paragraph ended up being longer than my other ones. Loss for feminism on the post that I specifically started because I was fuelled by feminism.

"Agent Scully is already in love" should be for all the world a gleeful revelation and I was quite excited to see it, as I'd heard about this scene long before (MSR gifsets was what drew me here in the first place. I'm shallow like that.) But scully has been so kicked around this episode, stripped of privacy and dignity in every sense and this has been exposed to Mulder and everybody else, that it only makes me sad, because I do wish that Padgett would stop talking to her completely and stop getting around in her head like this.

The end scene just kills me, where the killer breaks in and grabs at her heart. She claws at Mulder's back when he embraces her with such fierce desperation and what I can only assume is a very, very deep well of regret. She doesn't shy away from him caring for her: she needs it.

#when I write stuff like this I always get the sense that I don't understand human emotion at all and start to second guess myself #if this is the case please forgive me. please.#x-files #mine #txf #milagro

6 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 2 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Reiji Dark [01]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the hallway of the Sakamaki manor

Reiji: ...

Yui: Ah...Reiji-san.

Reiji: ...Yes?

Yui: Are you going somewhere?

Reiji: No, I do not have any plans to head out.

Furthermore, if I were to head somewhere, why would I need to inform you?

Yui: ( Uu...Seems like he’s in a bad mood again today... )

Reiji: Anyway...Your posture.

Yui: Eh?

Reiji: You’re slouching. Honestly...It’s deplorable.

Yui: I don’t think I’m standing any different from usual....?

Reiji: I suppose that means your way of walking always lacks refinement.

Yui: I’m sorry...

Reiji: I suppose I have no other choice. I shall make some time right away to give you a lesson on proper walking etiquette.

Yui: Eh? ...Right here!?

Reiji: Why of course. Teaching someone manners should be done right away, on the spot.

Yui: Teaching me manners...?

( What a horrible way to put it. )

Reiji: Try to stand straight by yourself at first.

Yui: O-Okay.

( I usually never think about how I stand, but knowing that he’s watching me closely is kind of making me nervous... )

( Um, I have to straighten my back... )

*Rustle*

Yui: Um...Like this?

Reiji: ...Haah.

I cannot see any improvement at all. You truly are hopeless.

Come here. I shall help straighten your back.

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah...!

ー He pulls her close

Reiji: You need to focus on the muscles in your lower back and imagine that you are being pulled up from your head.

Be careful not to hunch, okay?

Yui: ...!

( I-It tickles when he whispers in my ear...! )

Reiji: The posture of your back is looking considerably better now.

Now you just need to be mindful of your gluteus maximus...

Yui: Gluteus maximus...?

Reiji: The muscles in your rear. Right around here, I believe...

Yui: Wah...! Reiji-san, where are you touching me...!?

Reiji: Be quiet. I am going through the effort of showing you because you lack such basic knowledge.

Yet you are making me sound like a molester...How infuriating.

Yui: B-But...

Reiji: Oh dear? You have something to say in return?

Selection

→ Protest (S)

Yui: I don’t think you have to touch me in such a way though...

Reiji: Why yes, under normal circumstances.

However, your memory is exceptionally poor. Therefore, I doubt just a simple explanation will suffice.

Hence, I have opted for a more direct, physical approach.

Yui: But...

Reiji: I am being so kind as to thoroughly teach you everything, yet you still complain?

Please remember that I will not hesitate to shut you up by force if you continue to talk back?

Yui: ...

→ Keep quiet (M)

Yui: ( I doubt trying to talk back will change anything... )

Reiji: ...You look rather displeased. If there is something you wish to share with me, go ahead?

Yui: ...No, it’s okay...

Reiji: Well then...Let us take our time to teach your body.

Yui: ...

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: ...Heh, you are not getting away.

Straighten your legs.

Yui: O-Okay...

Reiji: Lift your chin a bit more. ...That’s starting to look more like it.

Yui: ( While his mood seems to have improved... )

( This lesson is bad for my heart...! )

Reiji: There will be a test at the end. If you manage to passーー

Yui: ( Somebody is coming this way...! If they see me like this... )

Reiji: Are you worried about the footsteps? Even though you’re in the middle of your training right now...What am I going to have to do with you?

Yui: ( Shoot! )

N-No...It doesn’t bother me or anything.

Reiji: I’ve had enough of that attitude of yours.

...I shall take my leave now.

ー Reiji steps back

Yui: Eh? You’re leaving?

Reiji: I do not want to spend time with a woman who allows herself to be distracted by some other man. ...Well then.

ー Reiji leaves

Yui: Reiji-san...

( Usually I’d be relieved right now but... )

( I wonder why I feel so sad watching him walk away...? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lereijidark1

64 notes · View notes

useless-englandfacts · 2 years

Note

Hey! Love your blog and completely agree with everything you're posting about Jamie Oliver, but so tired of seeing people equate Marcus Rashford - who has campaigned tirelessly for a cause near & dear to his heart - in the same category as Jack Monroe - who seems to think constantly tweeting triggering content with no warnings is good activism, and is often displaying a thinly veiled disdain for the very people they are supposed to be helping.

Hopefully I'll be proven wrong when the Vines Boots Index finally releases. We were originally promised that would be finished in like Feb/March though and haven't heard anything since, so I'm not holding out much hope.

I understand she's said herself in the past that she comes from a middle class background and her message was that poverty can affect literally anyone, but I'm sorry I see blatant snobbery peeking out sometimes, in the way she talks about the foster kids she grew up with, or the way she describes working class people sometimes - like in this article https://www.theguardian.com/society/patrick-butler-cuts-blog/2013/jun/06/food-poverty-jack-monroe-it-could-happen-to-anyone

"You have no idea whether the young woman with a black baby and a lanky blond nine year old on her arm is a foster carer or a 'slut' " - Jack Monroe in the Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/society/2013/sep/18/jack-monroe-starve-benefits-england

This was their rebuttal to "whispers and stares" when taking her parents' foster kids out. So if hypothetically those kids were that young woman's then that's a bad thing ?! The article is well intentioned and i agree with its message but slips like this and implying that people in poverty aren't "normal people" in the first article which show how she truly thinks about us tbh.

I'll never forgive Jack for publicly bashing Corbyn several times in 2017-19, a man who would have put in place so many of the policies that Jack claimed to support. They were even planning to run as MP against labour in 2017 in Southend until they stepped down due to receiving an anonymous letter threatening them https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/politics/food-blogger-jack-monroe-announces-10317018

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2017/may/11/jack-monroe-abandons-bid-to-become-an-mp

Only once Corbyn had been replaced and had no chance of being Prime Minister did Jack change their tune.

I also wish the people recommending her website would give some of Jack's recipes a try first, they're mostly terrible, and make the infuriating decision to 'cost' by the amounts used, as if anyone is going to be able to find 4 pence worth of black pepper somewhere

Despite the good I can agree they've done with raising funds for the trussel trust, both times she's done a major fundraiser for them have also helped raise her own profile - the time she gave books they weren't donated directly by her to food banks, members of the public had to pay for 2 copies and one would be a "donation" which coincidentally helped inflate her books' sales figures. Her recent fundraiser involved purchasing t shirts with her name printed on them next to the slogans to again raise her profile - and we have no way of knowing that all of the profits are being donated as promised.

Just because someone shares our politics doesn't necessarily mean they're automatically a great person. Some will definitely co opt our movement for their own personal gain.

As someone who's been on Tumblr a long time I remember Zubat and the Leelah Project, I remember people on Twitter finally clueing up to Rachel Swindon, hell I even remember the HIV Hamilton mermaid fanfiction girl being outed. I honestly think Jack Monroe is someone in the same vein.

Sorry this is so long but I've seen Jack being paraded around Tumblr lately as if she's actually doing anything to help, people even giving them credit for being involved in Marcus' campaigning, and that's just not true. I feel like I'm challenging the Emperor's New clothes here.

Maybe I'm just overly mistrustful, but I'm just seeing a lot of red flags and I would recommend people donate directly to Trussell Trust rather than send the money to this person.

Having said all the above I do agree with the content of most of Jack's articles and tweets (even if I think they're in it mostly for the money) and I hope they absolutely destroy Lee Anderson in court.

(Jack uses they/she pronouns and I've included a mix of both in this post, sorry if its confusingly worded anywhere )

hi! thank you so much for sending this! there are some really great points worth pulling out of this. i always think it's good to treat any public figure with a healthy dose of scepticism. going to put this under a cut because it's long!

i'll preface this by saying that i don't follow jack monroe on twitter, nor to i keep a really close eye on everything they do - they're just someone who will pop up on my feed every now and then as a recommended tweet/because my mututals have liked one of her tweets, or i'll see them in the news/some panel show every once in a while. i also currently work for the trussell trust.

firstly yes, after reading those articles i totally agree with you that the classism is LEAPING out of this one. "I had a £27 grand a year job. I've not been brought up on benefits and a tracksuit watching Jeremy Kyle. I'm a middle class, well educated young woman who fell a bit by the way side. You think it doesn't happen to normal people, and you think we are all scumbags, eating burgers and watching day time TV. It can happen to anyone."

i understand that their point here is to dispel commonly-held perceptions about working/lower-class people, but even if someone was eating burgers and watching daytime TV, doesn't mean they're any less deserving of food lol. that whole article was clearly designed to appeal to the middle and upper classes (i.e. guardian readers), rather than building any sort of sympathy and solidarity for the working class, you're right.

though, perhaps in fairness i should say that those articles are from 2013 so... very very early on in the public side of her career, and she was only 25 years old so i don't think it's totally fair to expect every single thing that they said to tick every single "100% perfect and virtuous morality" box we have if that makes sense? i don't know how much conscious unlearning has taken place since then though, so i'm willing to be corrected here again.

her standing in the general election gives me huge jess phillips vibes - that whole empty "speaking truth to power" thing... though it is her right to stand if she wants to like i'm not going to pretend that the labour party is perfect, or that jeremy corbyn was perfect because (though i agreed with him on many many many things and i voted for him) he wasn't.

a minor point but i am poor and i use jack monroe's recipes and i don't have an issue with them lmao i think that's just a subjective thing that depends on what sort of cook you are tbh so i'm going to leave that

also agree with your point about her self promo - for example i really wasn't a fan of the t shirts (?) they recently sold to raise money for us at the trussell trust but also like... it did still raise the money, and if a silly t shirt is what it takes to tempt the public into donating money for foodbanks then that's something i'm sort of willing to overlook? like not to be machiavelli on main but sometimes the ends do actually justify the means.like.

more generally i think far too often on tumblr/twitter/the internet in general, people throw out the baby with the bathwater and are obsessed with seeing things in black and white. like. we are not immanuel kant and we are capable of viewing people with compassion and nuance and it doesn't have to be a "this person is EVIL you should totally ignore every single thing that they do" or a "this person is a SAINT you should totally agree with every single thing they do".

and like you said: on the whole you agree with most of their tweets/articles, so i don't think it's worth completely disparaging her. that being said, yes i also don't think it's worth completely venerating her either. you just have to trust that people aren't unintelligent and can make informed decisions of their own.

i know you said that we shouldn't compare them but one day marcus rashford (who is only 24!) will probably say something or do something ~problematic at some point in the future, but in my mind - and within reason - i don't think that automatically unpicks or undermines every single good thing a person has done.

i think a lot of this is a case of someone getting a national platform they weren't expecting, and then not being able to handle it well. like she doesn't deal well with any sort of backlash, and their actions perhaps aren't thought-through because she's literally just some person who wasn't trained or prepared for this. maybe they should hire some sort of PR team now though, if they haven't already...

#tldr i guess i'm agreeing with u on the whole?#but thank u again for sending this - it's always good to know these things #asks #anonymous #Jack Monroe #long post

21 notes · View notes

incorrectjane-andthedragon · 1 year

Text

Sailing Home: A fic. The final part of The Mysterious Message series.

The runes of the letter are never translated on-page, because none of the pov characters were around for that. It was just a normal letter talking about basic life things and the mountains of Kippernia. Nothing plot important.

Also at some point, James’s family came to collect the skeleton.

Anyway, enjoy!

Gunther awoke to the sensation of being aboard a gently rocking ship.

No! Father’s going to kill me for oversleeping! I have to-

The memories came back as he blinked himself awake. The hidden letter written in runes. His father, possibly not his father. His mother’s family. The pirates.

He grunted, finding himself bound and gagged, left on the floor of what appeared to be a captain’s quarters.

The captain’s going to want to see this one.

Gunther shut his eyes and began to pray. He didn’t get very far before the door opened and someone entered the room.

It was a short, heavyset man dressed in simple dark clothing. From what Gunther could see in the light now filtering in the room- it was early morning now- he had short black hair, a wispy mustache, light brown skin and eyes. Gunther might have found him rather handsome, was he not currently holding him hostage.

The man turned to face Gunther, and he saw that he had a gold ring piercing his lower lip. It was slightly off-center, like a fang poking out from his mouth.

Fang.

“Good morning.” Fang said calmly. His voice was raspy, and more higher-pitched than Gunther had expected. “Sleep well?”

Gunther thrashed against his bindings and gag. Smug bastard.

Fang squatted down and removed the gag.

“I am a knight of Kippernia.” Gunther panted. “You’ll be imprisoned for life for this.”

Fang raised his thick eyebrows slightly. “That explains the sword. Don’t worry. It’s perfectly safe.” Fang pointed, and Gunther saw out of the corner of his eye his sword resting on the captain’s desk.

“If you’re going to kill me, Captain Fang, I suggest you do it now. I won’t divulge anything.”

Fang shrugged. “I don’t plan on killing you. I need you alive, at least for one more day. Most likely less.”

“That sounds very much like you plan on killing me.”

“Well, I do not. Because we need to make a deal.” Gunther half-expected Fang to say those words the way Magnus would, with infuriating smugness, but he said them quite calmly. “I need to keep you aboard my boat for just a little while longer. Once I no longer need you, you can go on your merry way if you so choose. But I will only release you if you promise to never tell anyone anything about me or my crew.”

“I am so sick of making deals like this!” Gunther burst out, reminded of Magnus and exhausted to the bone from the nonstop emotions of the past few days.

Fang raised his eyebrows again. “I am sorry to hear that. But don’t worry.” There was a knock at the door. “This will be over soon.”

Gunther felt his heart begin to pound. Something important was about to happen.

Fang opened the door.

“Here he is.” He said, letting the woman in the room.

It’s bad luck to have women on a ship. Gunther thought stupidly as she walked towards him.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked. She was dressed in similar simple clothing as Fang, her only decoration was a red necklace wrapped around her throat.

“Gunther.” He said.

“Last name?”

He inhaled slowly, looking the woman in the eyes. He could’ve sworn he’d seen her eyes before. She looked like she could be related to him.

“Breech.”

The air in the room stilled as the woman’s eyes widened.

Fang lunged for Gunther. He cried out and ducked his head , expecting an attack, but found that his ropes were being sawed off by Fang’s dagger.

Fang was laughing incredulously now, gasping something about luck and blessings and impossibility.

Gunther felt his ropes hit the floor, and shot to his feet, only to find himself in the woman’s crushing embrace. It was an embrace he had not felt for a very long time. It was an embrace he never thought he’d feel.

The embrace of a mother.

“I don’t understand,” Gunther sobbed. “How is this possible?”

“Magnus tried to kill me.” She breathed. He nodded. “I believe he saw me one night with Fang when he stopped on shore,” Gunther nodded again. “And tried to kill me and left me to drown in the sea. Fang, returning to his boat, found me and saved me.”

Tears were dripping down her face now. He wanted to wipe them away.

“I wanted to come back for you so badly. But I was so wounded, and he was so wealthy, it was so dangerous. Fang promised he’d help me get revenge and get you back. We’ve been sailing ever since, trying to track Magnus alongside Fang’s other pursuits.”

Piracy, she means. Gunther thought, but was far too happy to care.

He hugged her again. “Magnus is in the castle dungeon now. Last night he was being tortured by your own father.”

She gasped. Fang’s jaw also dropped.

Someone knocked at the door.

“Is it urgent?” Fang shouted.

“No, Captain.”

“Then please leave me be, I am busy!”

“Yes, Captain.”

Fang leaned against the wall, looking very attentive. His mother stared at him.

He told them everything. The letter, Jane, Dragon, the brawl, the arrival of his-their- family.

“And then your men took me aboard this ship.” He finished. He wiped some tears off of his cheeks.

Fang nodded. “Most of them know I was helping look for you. Some joined the crew purely to spite Magnus for how he’d treated them when they were a part of his crew. One of them must have recognized you, or at least the resemblance you two have.” He indicated Gunther’s mother.

“Speaking of that, do you remember how I told you that Magnus could never shake the feeling that I was a bastard?” Gunther looked to Fang, who now looked serious. “Is that a possibility? Could I be your son?” He fought to keep his voice from trembling.

Fang and his mother exchanged glances.

“No.” Fang said gently. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

Gunther nodded slowly. “What makes you say that?”

“He is infertile.” His mother said.

“I am not infertile-” Fang said at the same time.

They both fell silent and exchanged glances again.

“Why-” His mother said.

“They have female knights now.” Fang said softly. “Female knights.”

His mother nodded.

Fang turned back to Gunther. “I was born a woman, but I became a man to survive at sea when my family died and I had no other choice. Everybody calls me he or sir and I love it that way. Not all of my crew knows, but those who do know they’d best respect me or they’d walk the plank.”

And that was that.

Jane will love to hear that. He thought, feeling a little happy for her. But the rest of him felt crushed.

The idea that he might not have been Magnus’s son had lifted him up, given him hope. He hadn’t admitted it, but he’d wanted to believe that he wasn’t poisoned by Breech blood, that his true father could have been someone good and kind and true.

But no. He was stuck with the same wretched father he’d always had.

He was suddenly filled with the urge to ask Fang if he could join his crew, to change his name and sail away to a new land where he could live a life free of his past.

But leaving his past behind would mean leaving it all behind.

He would never spar with Jane again. Never taste Pepper’s cooking. Never overhear Smithy’s conversations with Pig. Never hear the king’s boisterous laughter. Never see the gentle twinkle of Sir Theodore’s eyes. Never see the content smile that appeared on Rake’s face when he gardened. A million more things came to his mind, things he’d leave behind.

“Mother?”

“Yes?”

“Will you come back? Your family should be at the castle now, and I live there now.”

She hesitated.

“I will ask the king to pardon Fang. King Caradoc is a merciful man. If he promises to give up piracy, maybe he’ll let him go free. There will be restrictions, and negotiations, but it may work.”

There was a long pause. Fang and his mother looked at each other.

“Mother, please.”

He was sent outside while they discussed things. It made him feel like a child again. He also felt like a child due to having to work on a ship.

But he was no longer a child, and was thus allowed to do more adult work now. He did it without being asked, just to feel like he was doing something.

He thought the pirates would be curious about him, but due to his usefulness they hardly batted an eye. When they stared at him, it was mostly just to make sure he didn’t mess up.

After well over an hour, Fang and his mother emerged from the captain’s quarters onto the deck.

“ATTENTION!” Fang bellowed. “MAGNUS BREECH HAS BEEN ARRESTED!”

A riotous cheer erupted over the deck.

“LISTEN UP MEN, BEFORE YOU START POURING OUT DRINKS. NOW THAT HIS FORMER WIFE HAS LESS TO FEAR, SHE HAS EXPRESSED A DESIRE TO RETURN TO HER LOVED ONES ON LAND. I MAY EVEN JOIN HER THERE, BUT THAT REMAINS TO BE SEEN.”

The cheering died down.

“You mean you won’t be our captain anymore, sir?” Mulby asked incredulously.

Fang nodded gravely.

There were several gasps. A discontent murmur began to spread. Several of the pirates looked around as if they’d never seen the ship before, seeming lost.

“I don’t know if I’ll leave you yet,” Fang was starting to sound choked up. “But if I do, promise me you won’t do anything stupid, all right? Live your lives well.”

There were several we promises and aye captains, and more chatter began.

They had not sailed very far away from Kippernia to begin with, so the trip back to land was quick. The whole time was spent working, and singing sea shanties, and Gunther overheard a lot of the pirates reminiscing of their time with Fang and his wife. It was so touching he found himself tearing up. That’s how he knew he was beyond exhausted. The first thing he was doing when this was over was sleeping for six hours or more.

“So, how have you been?” His mother asked, having sidled up next to him without him noticing as he tied a knot.

“I’ve been…well, living with Magnus was difficult, as you can imagine. But I’m a knight now. I have a mentor, and- the way some of the pirates talk about Fang remind me of how I feel about him.”

“Tell me everything.”

So he did.

“Fang, sir, as long as you stay calm, I think this will go better.”

“You are right.” Fang swallowed hard. “How do I look?”

“Like a plainly-dressed pirate.”

“Really? It’s that obvious?”

“Yes. I cannot make any promises, but King Caradoc is a merciful man. Behave yourself and keep your promises, and you won’t have to worry about being arrested in Kippernian waters.”

“It’s not just King Caradoc I’m scared of.”

“Yes, my mother’s family is a little mad, but do not anger them and you will live.”

“Gunther’s right. Now come on, it’s a long way to the castle from here.”

“GUNTHER!” Jane screamed.

He was swarmed as soon as he stepped onto castle grounds.

“You’re back! You’re ALIVE!” Rake cried.

“Guess who is not alive?” Jested exclaimed with disturbing glee.

“WHAT?”

“Magnus died this morning. His wounds got infected.”

“YES!” Fang exploded, punching the air.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Sir Theodore asked, having walked over in all the commotion.

“That’s-um.”

Fang took it with surprising stride. “Hello, you probably know me as Fang, and this is my wife-”

Someone else screamed, and soon Gunther was being crushed by his aunt’s embrace again. Multiple people were sobbing with joy and relief.

Gunther had never been more tired or tearful, but he’d also never been more relieved.

Over a Week Later.

“Goodbye!” Gunther shouted as they boarded the ship. “I will write! I’ll practice our runes!”

“Bye!” His cousin shouted, leaning over and waving.

He, his mother, and Fang watched the boat sail away. She sighed heavily.

“I know,” Fang said heavily. “But you don’t have to worry about your letters being intercepted anymore.”

She nodded. “And my son and lover are here. I have no reason to leave Kippernia anytime soon.”

Gunther smiled. “Neither do I.”

3 notes · View notes

urlkssknt · 3 years

Text

a deep love confession

warnings!! nsfw!! unprotected sex!!

johnny x fem reader, 3k

johnny stared at you with such intensity, you had never seen that look in his eyes before. he looked mad. he was mad. at you, specifically. of course, you were a grown woman, one who could handle any form of danger, but that knowledge didn't help the anxiety that was weighing down on johnny's chest heavily. "where were you?" johnny tried to speak in the calmest tone he could muster but he was failing to mask his emotions. was it because you didn't inform him that you left for the deal or was it because he felt like you didn't trust him?

you scanned his posture as he stood still in your bedroom, a room that all of your men were forbidden from entering, even dohwan. yet, you always welcomed johnny. sighing, you began to shrug off the jacket you wore and placed it on your bed, not bothering to answer the man in your room. to you, it didn't seem like such a big deal, you were simply doing your job.

"y/n, i just asked you a question."

both of your eyes locked onto each other, a mutual look of intensity, hoping to try and read each other's minds, johnny just wanted to understand you but you were making it so difficult for him. your eyes were blank. you showed no detectable emotions.

"i don't answer to you," was what you said that threw johnny off the edge. whatever patience was left in him now vanished. groaning loudly, johnny ran his hand through his hair and held onto his neck. he couldn't shout at you, he couldn't do anything.

you infuriated him.

johnny decided it was best to leave you alone, maybe forever. the feelings he felt for you heavily trumped what you felt for him, johnny assumed in his mind, that was always constantly things about you. there was no way to tell what you were thinking and it stressed him out. he just wanted to understand you.

"wow," johnny scoffed, placing his hands on his hips as he glared at you, the way you just gazed back at him obliviously pissed him off even more, "i guess i shouldn't have worried about you then, huh?" anger was laced with every word he spoke in a voice that was quiet so no one that happened to be walking past could hear but loud enough for you to listen. the warm light of your room illuminated johnny's features, his beautiful face hardened like a rock, jaw tense. "do you even care that i was worried about you? i get that you don't care about you own life but i care, y/n! me!" you were speechless. feelings were never your strong point, voicing them aloud was even worse. slowly, you began to process johnny's words, however the said man took your silence literally and as a rejection.

feeling fed up, johnny began to walk towards the door, the sound of his leaving footsteps booming in your ear like thunder. it awoke something in you as if a switch had been turned on. johnny's fingers were ready to reach out for the door handle to leave out of your life before he froze in his steps, "i'm sorry."

you had apologised.

the two words were foreign to your tongue but you hoped johnny could hear the sincerity in your shakey voice. it was only a matter of a few more seconds before johnny felt your hands wrap around his waist, your head resting against his broad back. he felt warm to you. any anger that he experienced quickly evaporated with that one act.

"i can't stand to see the sight of you walking away," the image of it was still fresh in your mind, causing you to tighten your grip on him, in fear he would actually leave. your fingers trembled as you clutched johnny's cotton shirt. "the way i feel for you," you began slowly with a wavering voice as you thought out every word, trying to piece everything you wanted to say, "i haven't felt this way about anyone before, and i don't know if i deserve to feel it." your heart was hammering in your chest, you were afraid that johnny could feel it beating, a sheet of paper couldn't pass between your grip on the taller man.

as johnny felt your grip loosen, he instantly held your hands against him again.

"i love you," you whispered quietly in a defeated tone.

johnny turned around so quickly you were afraid he might have experienced whiplash. the hardened features of his face had finally softened, showing you everything you found so dearly beautiful about him. as his dark eyes pierced into yours, johnny raised one of his large hands to cup your face. he didn't miss the way you nestled into it further, the simple act causing his heart to skip a beat. the organ was beating so loudly out of his chest johnny was almost certain you could hear it in the comforting silence, unbeknownst to him, your heart matched his rapid pace.

"i want to be the one by your side, y/n," johnny's other free hand snaked around your waist to draw you closer to him, with your hands still wrapped around him, "please, i can handle everything you throw at me, just... let me be a part of your world." his forehead rested against yours, you could feel his warm breath falling upon your skin, finding peace in it. johnny was real and not a figment of your dreams that were beginning to replace the recurring nightmares that occupy your sleepless nights.

"but you'll get hurt," your body stiffened at the thought of johnny becoming hurt or worse, dead. all because of you.

"then let me," johnny held onto you tighter, embracing you with both arms, his scent unknowingly calming you down, "i know you'll protect me no matter what," he had spoken with a smirk that was so obvious in his voice.

gazing upon your face once more, johnny knew he reached your ice cold heart. that all his efforts didn't go to waste. your neck craned as you looked up at him with endearing eyes, as if he was the most perfect creature to have been created. it began to cause a stir in him. taking advantage of your dazed state, johnny angled his head lower so he could meet your lips. unlike the first kiss you both shared, the taste of tobacco is no longer lingering like a reminder of your habit, just the taste of your lip gloss. it was so sweet. johnny indulged himself in the sweetness, you kissed him back with an equal amount of eagerness. your slender fingers ran up the expanse of johnny's chest, standing on the tips of your feet to match his height but yet you were still shorter than him. the soft kiss quickly became anything but innocent, the urge to have johnny bed you almost had your knees buckling.

somehow, johnny had moved you both to your bed, where you sat in his lap, your thighs on either side of him. warm comforting hands ghosted along your bare legs, the skirt you wore had ridden up, revealing more inches of your body for johnny to touch. "i want you," you breathed as you pulled away from johnny's swollen lips.

johnny groaned at your words. he had imagined this moment ever since you deemed his yours, the thoughts normally continued in a lonesome cold shower and the company of his hand. a blush grazed his cheeks at the embarrassing thoughts. the blood rushed to his dick at the sight of your doe eyes pleading him to consent. "fuck," johnny's voice dropped an octave, "you sure, darling?"

the small nod of your head was the green light. his hands gripped at your hips, guiding you dangerously closer to feel where he needed you most. intently, johnny watched as you gasped at the feeling of his hardening dick through his jeans.

"i'll make you cum on my dick instead of my tongue," the lewd words were whispered softly, hot breath fanning against your ear, only for you to hear. in a matter of seconds, you felt johnny's pulp lips press opened-mouth kisses along the juncture of your neck, his lips upturned into a smirk when you titled your head to allow him to have more access. cherry blossoms trailed from beside your ear down to your collarbone. a gasp emitted from you at the harsh sting of your skin between johnny's teeth.

"you're so beautiful, y/n," you wondered how johnny viewed you, a psychotic bitch who needed to be locked up or someone who was deserving of love. cradling his face between your cold hands, you littered soft kisses all around johnny's handsome face, mentally swearing to yourself to kill anyone who as much places a scratch upon it. johnny stilled at the sudden affection. your wondering hands turn south from johnny's chest, you had the blessing of being able to peel the white t-shirt off from his body, leaving him bare before your eyes. johnny was very confident in his body, the way you drooled over him like a child craving a candy, made him chuckle. the laughter died when you suddenly began to undress yourself, revealing the dark lace undergarments you wore. johnny's mind wondered if you purposely wore such a thing for his eyes only.

returning to his lap, you innocently rolled your hips against johnny's unbelievably hard dick, eliciting a sound from him that made you clench around nothing. "do you want me to cum in my pants?" you blinked at him in confusion as if your heat wasn't sat directly on top of the area where he needed you most. johnny rolled his eyes at your unresponsive reaction. for a mafia boss, you knew nothing about sex. "where do you keep your condoms?" he shifted his weight in order to search through your bedside table for the packaged rubbers.

"i don't have any," you told johnny, watching the way the muscles in his back tense, "you're my first."

he knew this already but it spurred something in him to hear it again. johnny turned his head to you at lightning speed, catching you off guard. a voiceless part of him takes pride in knowing that you never took pleasure in someone else before him, unlike what the rest of the boys believed. if they only knew, johnny thought.

"darling, we can't do this then."

"no!" the sound of your own voice shocks you, never did you think you would be so intoxicated by a man that you'd loose all sense of pride, but johnny sat there, peering down at you, and suddenly the desire for him to fill you increased tenfold. "isn't it better without?" you reasoned, remembering the conversation with yuta about sex being better without protection. the chance of you getting pregnant during your first time seemed low to you, you knew it was a risk but you'd do anything to cease the throbbing you felt.

"yeah but-" johnny's reasoning was cut short by your lips kissing along his chest, so lightly like petals grazing against his skin, "baby." his groan only added to the wetness that was pooling in your panties, all for him.

your hands wrap around his neck to bring johnny's gaze back to your lustful ones, "it'd be nice," your voice sounded as smooth as butter, coaxing him to give into your every desire, "my belly swollen with your baby." you practically purr in his ear. johnny felt his dick twitch in its restrictive confinements, reminding himself of just how unforgivingly hard he is.

"for a virgin," johnny sighs shakily, feigning disappointment, as he began to undo his trousers, pushing his boxers down with them, "you have such a foul mouth," he moved to sit against the headboard of your bed that was fit for a king, "should i stuff it with my dick?" johnny hummed, not missing how your thighs rubbed together slightly.

all the arrogance left your body when you peered at johnny's dick, eyes lingering for a moment too long. you gulped. there was no way for you to tell if his size was regular, due to your inexperience, but he looked big.

mocking laughter fell from johnny, you looked so scared sat in his lap, having no absolute fucking clue what to do, a sight people would pay billions to see, and yet you trusted johnny enough to be the one who sees you like this. his chest swelled with pride. he was your first. somewhere in his heart, johnny knew he'd be your last too.

the tips of your fingers curled between johnny's soft locks as he pulled you back in his strong arms, slotting his warm lips between your own. his mind drifted back to when he ate you out, the taste of you still fresh in his mind. you moaned sinfully against him as his hand groped your breast through your bra, you rutted against him in response to the pleasure. his other hand itched it's way to your back, managing to unclap the lace material, freeing your breasts. leaning down, johnny doesn't miss the opportunity to press a kiss along the valley between your mounds, leaving you a sighing mess above him.

"please, john," you said breathlessly, you were aching for him to touch you in the area you desired most yet he avoided completely.

gripping your hips tightly, johnny guided you to be on top of him, your thighs straddling his waist yet again, after throwing your panties to pile with the rest of the disregarded clothes on the floor. your body trembled slightly out of nervousness. johnny cupped your face with his large palm, "we don't have to do this," he said again. your pleasure was the only thing that mattered to him, he could withstand another cold shower for your sake. however, you urged him to continue.

your hips bucked at the feeling of johnny's hand cupping your sex. "you're dripping," his eyes darkened at the way your wetness glistened under the lighting, before licking his hands clean as if it were the richest frosting, something straight out of a porno. the hum johnny produced caused a chill to run through your body as you completely focused on him.

wasting no more time, johnny aligned himself with your enterance, helping you slowly ease yourself onto him. every cry you emitted from the discomforting stretch was shushed with reassuring mumbles, encouraging words about you 'taking him so well,' and soft kisses peppered around your pain-ridden face. the air in your lungs left your body at the feeling of being completely filled. it took all of johnny's strength to not just thrust into you and take you as he pleased. your walls were so tight and so warm around him, his mind felt like it was going to explode.

as the pain surpassed, you began to rock your hips at a slow irregular pace. each second was agonising for johnny as all he could do was grip at your hip. he was sure a bruise would be left there tomorrow. the other hand kneed the flesh of your ass, coaxing you to move a bit faster. johnny's lips attached themselves to your left breast, swirling his tongue against your nipple softly, the gasp you let out only encouraged the assault. it wasn't until his teeth grazed the sensitive peak that you clenched around him deliciously. johnny cursed out as his hips bucked into yours, hitting a spot you didn't know existed, "do that again, darling."

your breaths were loud in your partner's ears, chest heaving as the air was knocked out of your lungs, your mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of johnny, much like your cunt was. the feeling of your orgasm approaching burned in your lower body.

"j-john," you tried to silence your pathetic whines by pressing your face into johnny's shoulder, his name fell like a mantra from your lips as if it were the only word you knew.

"my pretty, pretty girl," johnny cooed at the fucked out expression adorning your face, a look no one apart from him would ever be able to witness.

the rolling of your hips became sloppier, the longer you chased your high. your legs began to feel numb. johnny's hips suddenly began to thrust up into you, so deeply that tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"'m so close." it was a miracle that your nails didn't break as they created deep crescent-like cuts in johnny's back. you hung onto his shoulders for dear life. if you were hurting him, johnny didn't show it.

he was embarrassed to say it but johnny could feel his high rising in such a short time. the way you called his name when he couldn't be more closer to you made his head spin, slowly loosing control as you clenched around him tighter. grunts and groans fell from him, immediately being swallowed by your parted lips.

sweat adorned your skin, your hair matted against the top of your forehead, johnny couldn't imagine what he looked like himself, his hair was probably a mess from your clutches.

"fuck, john, why is your dick so big?"

"you did not just say that," johnny snorted, wishing he had a camera to capture the blush that crept on your cheeks in embarrassment, had you said the wrong thing?

"do you want me to cum in you, darling?" the lewd question was said with such innocence, no one would have suspected the effect it had on you, "should i?" johnny's grip got stronger, as if it were possible, and began to thrust his hips up into you, repeatedly hitting the spot that had you seeing stars. the quiet moans falling from your lips and the way your walls clenched around his dick were a big giveaway that you were nearly at your high.

you emitted a gasp as the coil in your stomach snaps, the pleasure quickly become too much as johnny continued to pound you from beneath. in a matter of seconds, you could feel the warmth of his load coating your walls.

finally, your lover stilled in you, waiting just one more moment before leaving your warmth. the whine from the loss of johnny's dick almost made him do a double-take, desiring to fill you up again. however he knew better and wanted to let you rest. johnny kissed the crown of your head, his strong arms holding your slumped body up against him. "you okay?"

you managed a small hum, feeling too tried to respond. johnny noticed your drooping eyelids, he gently helped you off his lap and lay down on your bed, despite your protests of missing his warmth. a small chuckle fell from him as he looked at the marks you created along his chest in the bathroom mirror. he went in to get a towel to clean you up with and a shirt for you to sleep in so you wouldn't sleep cold. by the time johnny returned, you had managed to fall asleep in the short time. regardless, the older man continued to clean up the mess between your thighs, he couldn't manage to slip your shirt on you so johnny made sure to tuck the blankets in tightly.

"john, can you sleep with me?" your small voice asked, tired eyes meeting his with a pleading look.

"what did we just do earlier," johnny joked as he put his boxers on, the light in your room casted a glow around him that likened him to an angel.

"stay with me."

your hand had managed to sneak its way out of the blanket and beckoned johnny to lay beside you. the sucker he was for you, anything you desired you would have, who was he to deny you of himself. sighing, johnny clambered into the cold bed, he shivered as he laid beside you. like a moth to a flame, you reached out to touch him, yearning for the warmth of his naked body. johnny was always warm and you were always cold.

"haechan will notice i'm not there," he said softly with his long fingers running through your hair.

"i don't care," you said simply, the members were almost certain that something was happening between you and johnny, they just needed confirmation. "neither should you, your thoughts should only consist of me."

#johnny imagines #nct johnny #johnny seo #johnny smut #johnny x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct smut

503 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Impossibilities.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this one, bit different of a topic to deal with. I have read a lot of stories of these things happening, I have put warnings in and if the topic is too much please don’t read. I will accept constructive critiscm. (I understand that what happens throughout this writing is not a reality for some but it is a work of fiction and I absolutely hold no intent to offend anyone.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, talks of infertility, language.

W/C: 5K... there may be typos.

You were almost in shock as you stared at the test in your hand. Impossible. There was no way that this was true, it couldn’t be, you’d been told as much. You furrowed your brows as you looked up at the doctor.

“This isn’t, this can’t be right.” You stumbled out.

“It is, we’ve tested you almost every way possible. You’re pregnant.” He confirmed and you still couldn’t work out how it made you feel.

You’d never considered this as an option, you were told when you turned sixteen that you couldn’t have children, that you were infertile. You struggled with bad periods and when you went to the doctors they ran full tests on you and that’s how you found out. You’d never thought about children, why would you have? The idea of being a mother wasn’t something you ever considered and now you were faced with it, well you didn’t know how to feel.

You were terrified, you’d come here today because you thought you were ill, not pregnant. You wondered if you were dreaming, you were so sure you’d turned your alarm off and rolled out of bed this morning for this appointment. It must have been a dream, there was no way this was possible.

The doctor continued to look and you and you looked up at him, you couldn’t speak, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even know how you should feel, let alone what to say about it. “Would you like us to call Mr Holland?” The doctor asked, he’d grown concerned over your quiet demeanor.

“No,” you shook your head. “He’s away.” You continued quietly.

“Would you like me to call someone for you?” He asked again and you shook your head.

“No, I’m okay. I just, I don’t know. I’d never considered this a possibility. Will it make it? The baby I mean?” You asked quietly and the doctor gave you a small smile.

“You stand the same chance as every other woman who falls pregnant.” He offered, it was almost a comfort to you, the worry setting in that you’d miscarry because you genuinely believed the universe didn’t pick you to have children. You nodded slightly as you stood. “You should talk to your husband.” He added.

“I will.” You confirmed, you just didn’t know how and when. You’d told him about your infertility early on in the relationship so you could save a broken heart down the line, save him getting his hopes high as the relationship progressed. He’d mentioned the idea of adoption, but it was something you both wanted to wait for and hadn’t fully decided if you were going to, what if this hindered the plans you’d made together?

Being a married couple who seemingly couldn’t have children, you’d planned your lives to work a little differently. It never involved a family in your mid-twenties. You’d been with him for three years, married six months and now you were about to become parents. Where would this leave you?

You suddenly felt guilty, you were part of an extraordinarily rare group of women. Shouldn’t you be jumping for joy? Maybe you would be if you weren’t so shocked. You hadn’t exactly been trying, of course you’d gone three years having unprotected sex with no birth control but there was never any need. You were never doing it for the purpose of procreating. You didn’t even track your period, that’s how much you believed you couldn’t conceive.

You made your way out of the doctors, sitting in your car as you pressed your forehead against the steering wheel. You debated telling Tom your appointment was over but ultimately decided not to. He was only an hour ahead of you from where he was filming, you knew he’d be waiting for your text or call but you weren’t ready to have the conversation, you still had a lot to process first. The drive home was almost a blur, making your way back to your shared house.

Tess greeted you, jumping up at you as you mindlessly stroked her head, making your way into the kitchen, she was hot on your heels, your greeting towards her wasn’t what she wanted, it felt off. It was like she always sensed when you were out of sorts or having a bad day, she’d follow you around, make sure you were okay. Pouring yourself a glass of water you thought about what you should do.

Your thoughts spiraled more the more you thought about how you were going to tell your husband. You wanted to feel complete and utter joy, but you couldn’t, so many emotions running through your mind at once. It was almost head ache inducing. Your phone buzzed on the side, bringing you from your thoughts as you picked it up, opening a message Tom had sent you.

Tom: You finished yet? Seems like a long appointment. You okay? I’m getting worried not hearing from you xx

You stared at the text, how do you respond? You can’t tell him news like this over a text or a phone call, it didn’t seem right. You needed to tell him in person, but he wasn’t due back for a month, you swallowed thickly as typed out your response.

You: Yeah, sorry, I forgot to message, got distracted. I’m okay xx

You read his reply, he was happy you were okay, a light scalding about scaring him like that. You needed to see him, but you couldn’t ask him to come home, he’d only worry more, and he was filming, his schedule was tight. You sighed as you pulled up Harry’s contact, it didn’t take him long to answer.

“Y/N? Hey.” Harry said, his usual chirpy self.

“Hey Harry. Can you send me the details of where you’re staying? Want to surprise Tom.” You said as normal as you could muster.

“You missing him already? He’s only been gone a week.” Harry teased with a short laugh.

“Yeah, I just want to see him.” You confirmed, tone dropping slightly.

“You okay?” Harry asked worriedly, he knew you were always up for a laugh, but you’d not taken the bait, so he knew something was off.

“Yeah, like I say I just miss him.” You sighed, hoping Harry wouldn’t press further. “Just don’t tell him I’m coming, yeah?”

Harry promised he wouldn’t ruin the surprise, giving you the location of the hotel they were stopping in. You put the phone down and booked your flight, the next one wasn’t until tomorrow and you needed to talk to someone about this, you also needed to find cover for your shifts. You killed two birds with one stone as you called your best friend, asking her to come over if she could.

“Y/N? What’s up? You okay?” She asked as she made her way into your home. She knew something was off when Tess didn’t greet her like she usually would. The dog only looking at her to make sure she wasn’t a threat before placing her head back in your lap.

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, you felt tears brim your eyes, the emotional confusion was becoming too much for you. She sat next you, carefully as not to disturb the dog in your lap, who huffed, leaning her head onto you more. She became almost jealous when anyone else tried to comfort you, Tom found it endearing and infuriating at times.

“Have you had a fight with Tom?” She asked carefully, the pups ears pricking up at the mention of her owner. You shook your head in response. “You just missing him a lot?” She pried, trying to get to the bottom of your problem.

“No more than usual.” You answered as you slightly scratched Tess’s head.

“Help me out here Y/N/N, what’s wrong?” She asked and you looked at her, she noticed the tears in your eyes and furrowed her brows. “Y/N/N?” She asked softly and you let the tears fall, you couldn’t help it. Tess standing on your lap as she nudged at your face. She assumed you were missing Tom, she was always so attentive and tried to cheer you up when you cried.

“I’m pregnant.” You said through your tears, pulling Tess into a hug as she placed her head on your shoulder. Your friend looking at you, shocked expression on her face.

“Are you, are you sure?” She asked carefully. Of course she knew about your supposed infertility.

“The doctor said so. I don’t know. I didn’t think it was possible. I know I should probably be happy but it’s so much to take in. I didn’t know this was possible.” You got out. Your friend waited for you to calm down, watching as you cuddled Tessa, the dog licking your cheek every now and again until you calmed down.

“Sorry,” you said as you sniffled, eventually calming down. Your friend smiling at you, in a comforting way. “I just, I don’t know how this is supposed to make me feel.” You said, Tess now peacefully back in your lap.

“I don’t think there’s a hand book for this sort of thing.” Your friend said. “Look, you’re just confused. The impossible has just become possible for you, of course you’re not gonna know how it makes you feel. You told Tom yet?” She asked.

“No, I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know if it’s something he wants right now.” You said, tears welling your eyes. “How do I tell him?”

“I think you should just come out with it. Just say it. He loves you, I’m sure he won’t leave you. This is a good thing.” She reassured as she placed a hand on your shoulder. “A really good thing. Just tell him. I’ll cover your shifts this week, just go and tell him.” She said with a smile.

“You really think he’ll be okay with it? That we’ll be okay?” Being pregnant was already scaring the living hell out of you and the thought of doing it alone? You couldn’t think too much about it right now.

“I know he loves you and I know that the two of you are solid. You guys can work through anything. I think he’ll be over the moon. You’ve been given a chance that not many people in your position do, I know that means you’re scared but you don’t have to be, you’ll be okay. Just let the excitement in.” She said and you took in her words.

Maybe you did need to relax, this was a good thing. You didn’t feel ready to have a child, but you were given a gift that not many other women in your position are. You should be excited, you thought about it for a while, letting the excitement flood you. This felt like a miracle, an absolute gift from the universe.

After a relatively short flight you were met with your brother-in-law’s arms, as he picked you up from the airport.

“I could’ve gotten a taxi.” You smiled and Harry shrugged.

“Toms on a closed set, spoilers and all that. Didn’t have anything better to do.” He teased as he nudged your shoulder and you smiled. “Right, out with it.” He said after your lack of usual response.

“What?” You asked, furrowed brows.

“Something’s off. What’s wrong?” He asked, concern written all over him as he opened the passenger door for you, making his way to the driver’s side.

“I just want to see him.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up to play with your bottom lip.

“I appreciate that, I do. But, you had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and all of sudden you’re rushing to see him.” He observed, he cared for you just like he would his own sister.

“How’d you know about that?” You asked and Harry gave you a knowing look, of course Tom will have spent the last few days worrying about it. “Can I tell you when I’ve told Tom?” You asked quietly.

“Wait, are you sick? Like actually ill?” He asked as he pulled into the drive of the hotel. He turned the ignition off and looked at you. “Y/N/N, are you okay?” He asked again and you couldn’t help as you burst into your second fit of tears in two days. He placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry I’m just worried.” He furrowed his brows, when you didn’t respond he sighed as he pulled you into a hug.

“I don’t know what to do.” You said vaguely.

“About what?” He asked as he hugged you tighter, it was awkward positioning, but you felt slightly better.

“Harry I need to tell Tom something and I don’t know how he’ll react.” You sobbed, something about being in the hotel grounds had your nerves shooting through you, you weren’t far off Tom right now.

“Hey, whatever it is it’ll be okay.” He said as he rubbed your back, you silently calmed yourself and he pulled you back to look at him. “Come on, let’s get you to your husband.” He said as you both exited the car.

The walk through the hotel didn’t feel long enough, your nerves felt like they were eating away at your heart, making your breathing more difficult as you tried to calm them. Harry was quiet as he led you through the halls. When he stopped outside the door you knew was Tom’s hotel room, you felt panic rise, you couldn’t do this.

“Harry, I can’t.” You said as you stopped him opening the door. He whipped to look at you.

“Y/N/N, when has there ever been a point in your relationship where you haven’t been able to talk about something?” He reassured and you sighed.

“This is different.” You said and Harry smiled sadly.

“It’s nothing you guys can’t handle. You’re a strong couple you know.” He reassured as he grasped your hand in his. You’d always been close to Tom’s family, they became like your own brother’s. “Come on.” He said as he opened the door with the second key, Tom had his back to the door.

“Harry? Where’d you go?” He asked, knowing it was his younger sibling.

“Went to pick up a present for you.” Harry smiled and Tom turned with furrowed brows.

“Wh- Y/N/N?” Tom let out a breath of surprise. Seeing him after almost eight days apart still brought that feeling of excitement in you as your feet moved before you could stop them. Running to him as he opened his arms, ready to catch you. Your body collided with his as he picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

You inhaled his scent, letting it calm your nerves, it always did. His scent and being in his arms, grounded you, kept you sane. It wasn’t long before the panic set in, what if he wouldn’t be there to ground you anymore? What if he didn’t want this? It was hard, you knew everything about him apart from his want or lack of when it came to children. You didn’t know how he was gonna react.

“I’m just gonna.” You heard Harry excuse himself as he heard your sobs start again. Tom stiffened slightly, holding you tighter.

“What’s wrong? Hey, it’s only been eight days, we’ve done more.” He said as he lightly shrugged his shoulder, forcing you to look at him. He took in your face, how tired you looked, it wasn’t until he settled on your eyes that he saw the fear in them, he didn’t miss a single detail when it came to you. “What’s happened?” He asked and you shook your head before stuffing your face back into his neck.

He held you, let you cry, he knew you’d talk but he wouldn’t push you. As worried as he was he’d wait for you to calm down, wait until you were ready. You stayed like that for a good five minutes before he heard your breathing calm and sniffles quieten, running a hand through your hair and running a hand up and down your thigh in comfort.

“Tom?” You whimpered and his heart shattered, he couldn’t decipher what the fuck was going on and it scared the shit out of him. You’d seen him and cried your eyes out, your sobs shaking your body in a way that had Tom’s heart hammering in his chest.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked, voice soft as he kissed your temple. “What happened?” His grip tightened when you tried to get down, your body had still clung to him like he’d disappear. Hands relaxed as you let go of the tight grip on his t shirt. He didn’t want to let you go.

“Can I get down please? You might want to sit for this.” You said and Tom furrowed his brows as he did as you asked. He studied you for a moment before you gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, wiping at your sore nose. You’d rubbed it so much after all your crying that it felt a little tender. He sat and you sat next to him, taking his hands in your shaking ones as you played with his fingers, he knew you did that when you were nervous or extremely relaxed and he deciphered the reason easily.

“Hey,” he said as he let you continue playing with his digits. “You can talk to me, sweetheart you’re scaring me here.” Tom said, voice incredibly soft, he was scared if he talked any louder you’d break, he’d never seen you so vulnerable.

You breathed in, you had to say it, he’d find out eventually, it wasn’t exactly something you could hide. On top of that you and Tom didn’t do secrets, not between each other. You let out a shaky breath as you looked at your husband, nothing but worry and care reflecting in his eyes.

“I,” you started, voice hoarse from all your crying. “I don’t know how to say it.” You admitted and Tom’s heart dropped, he’d never in your entire relationship seen you so vulnerable, never seen you at such a loss for words.

“Just say it. Rip the bandage of?” He offered in aid, and he heard you take in a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m pregnant.” You breathed out in a whisper. Tom didn’t catch it as he pulled one of his hands from your grasp, eyebrows furrowing as you pulled it back into your grasp. You were grounding yourself, using his hands as a way to keep your emotions in check. He knew that which is why he left his hand he’d previously tried to free.

“Sorry darling, I didn’t catch that.” Tom said as he placed his chin on your head. You played with his wedding ring on his finger for a moment, twirling it on his finger, it wasn’t as mindlessly as you usually did it, before you spoke again, it was still quiet, but Tom didn’t miss it. The words echoing around the silent hotel room. Of all the things he expected to be wrong, this was not it.

“What? How?” Tom got out, shock taking over his system. He didn’t think this was possible, didn’t think you could.

“I’m sorry.” You said, voice quiet, no tears but Tom would be surprised if you had any left. You placed your head on his chest as you waited for his response. You were nervous, incredibly so and Tom was shocked.

It was your fingers playing with his more harshly as you grew more nervous of his silence that brought him crashing back to Earth. His heart hammering in his chest, excitement bubbling through his system. He felt like he’d just been told he was King of the world, felt like every good piece of news had come back to him all at once. This was a miracle.

“Say it again.” Tom said with a smile on his lips, he needed to hear you say it again, just so he knew it was true.

“I’m pregnant Tom.” You said and he couldn’t help himself as he let a tear fall, his chest filling with a happiness he hadn’t felt since you’d said, ‘I do,’ and he was sure this was even happier than then. You’d done something you were told was impossible. “Are you angry?” You asked, voice small as you grasped a hand around his wedding finger.

“Angry? Princess this is the best news in the world. We’ve been given a chance, one most couples don’t.”

You looked up at him and studied his face, it was full of nothing but joy and adoration, you smiled sadly as you let the excitement settle in your chest. You didn’t have to do this alone, he wanted this. You both did.

“I’m scared.” You voiced your concern.

“You’ve got me, and I’ve got you.” He said reassuring as he kissed at your cheeks. “We can do this. Together, like everything else.” He said again and you let go of his fingers as you hugged him, strong hands finding your back as he pulled you tight against him

A month later and Tom had quit the role, the director and his agent understanding, he needed to be here for this, he couldn’t and wouldn’t miss it. He didn’t care if it gave him a bad name, you and your baby came first, always. Luckily everyone understood, well everyone involved in making the film. You still needed to tell your families, your mum and dad had cried at the news, your dad unbelievably so. Your sister was nothing but ecstatic for you, it was not time to tell Tom’s family, Harry had been worried after your exchange when he picked you up, but he stopped pushing when Tom reassured him you were okay.

“What? I thought?” Harry started as he looked at the couple in shock, of course Tom had told him that you were unable to have children. He’d told all of his family to stop the questions about them cropping up.

“So did we.” You said with a smile, nothing but excitement was left now, all your fears and concerns leaving your system.

“Are they certain?” Sam asked, he was just as shocked as Harry.

“Yeah.” Tom said, you’d been to a couple of doctors to confirm the news, the two of you both lived for a solid week thinking you were dreaming and almost needed it confirming as many times as was possible.

“I’m so happy for you.” Harry said with a wide smile, engulfing you in a hug, squeezing you tight.

“Have you told mum and dad?” Sam asked, smile matching his twin’s.

“Not yet.”

“Mum’s gonna cry.” Harry smiled.

“What?” Dom asked, like everyone else, nothing but shock evident.

“Oh Tom,” his mother said as she hugged him, smile on her face as she cried tears of happiness. “This is a miracle.” She said and Tom smiled as he hugged his mother back.

“I thought it wasn’t possible.” Dom was still in disbelief.

“So did I.” You said and Dom pulled you into a hug.

“I couldn’t be more happy for you.” He said into your ear.

His parents understood this was different for you, Tom had made the choice where you’d not had one. As harsh as it sounds Tom could have called it quits in the early stages of your relationship when you’d told him. Whereas for you, you’d lived your life thinking it didn’t matter who you married you’d never have the choice and here you were. Nikki was the next to pull you into her chest.

“I’m so unbelievably happy for you, you have no idea how happy I am for you right now.” She cried into your shoulder, and you smiled, Tom mouthing a slight ‘sorry’ over her shoulder before his dad pulled him into a hug.

It wasn’t until your three month scan that things got incredibly emotional, when the nurse had placed the gel on your stomach to listen for a heartbeat. You all heard two and the only person who didn’t catch on was you, you assumed it was your own heartbeat. Tom cried when he heard them, cried so incredibly hard and you assumed it was because he’d heard his child’s heartbeat for the first time and it was, but it wasn’t only that.

“I knew twins ran in the family but Jesus fucking christ.” Tom muttered as he sniffled, and you looked at him confused.

“What?”

“Darling, there’s two heart beats.” Tom said as he looked at you, how had you not caught on. You looked to the nurse for help.

“Mrs Holland, you’re having twins.” She smiled and you almost screamed in joy. How had you gotten so lucky? You couldn’t help as you pulled your husband into your arms, he let out a slight breath as you pulled him to your chest and cried into his hair.

Neither you nor Tom cared the gender of your child, male or female, you were ecstatic. The baby reveal was incredible, it brought tears to everyone’s eyes as they watched the two of you with your little confetti canons.

“Okay, darling. On three?” He asked, nerves kicking in for the both of you. He whispered out the numbers and on three you both set your canons off. Blue confetti showered everything in its path, they were both boys. You heard as Harry and Paddy practically roared in excitement, Sam clapping his older brother on the shoulder with a ‘congrats.’

Tom picked you up and cried into your chest, you were both over the moon. You ran your hands through his hair as you kissed the top of his head, you’d never seen him as emotional in the last few months, he cried at everything do to do with your pregnancy.

“We’re gonna have nephews!” You heard Paddy scream as he fist bumped Harry, the two had been adamant they were both boys. You smiled at their excitement.

The labour was long and hard, you felt like you couldn’t carry on through the last four hours. Both boys being born, half an hour apart, you both cried, Tom cutting the umbilical cords with shaky hands.

“I’m so proud of you.” Tom said as he kissed your temple, you were sweaty and in your opinion probably looked like shit, not to Tom though. You looked like an absolute angel.

“I never thought I’d have this.” You said in a small and tired voice, a wave of emotions hitting you.

“I know sweetheart.” Tom said, he knew there really was nothing else to say, no ‘if’, ‘buts’ or ‘maybes.’ What had happened for the two of you was an absolute miracle, a chance not many were given.

“I love you.” You said as a tear slipped, and Tom was quick to wipe it away as he moved the sweaty mess of hair from your forehead.

“I love you to, more than anything.” He said as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Tom, I’m all sweaty.” You groaned as you tried to calm your onslaught of emotions and he laughed.

“How do you think these guys were made, we had to get a little sweaty then didn’t we?” Tom teased and you lifted a tired hand to slap his shoulder. He laughed as he pulled away to hold your hand.

“Thank you.” You said as you played with his fingers, particularly the wedding ring that rested on his finger. Although this time, it wasn’t out of nerves, you were content, happy, in pure bliss.

“What for?” He asked, the gratitude confused him.

“For staying with me, sticking by me.” You said as you closed your eyes slightly, you were so tired, a long labour having caught up with you.

“I told you when I asked you to marry me, I’m never going anywhere, no matter what. Get some rest darling.” He said but it fell on deaf ears, your breathing evening out as you looked the most content and happy he’d ever seen you in his life, sleep consuming you. Your hand didn’t leave his, your two healthy boys were currently sleeping next to your bed. As Tom looked around the room at his family that was much bigger than he’d anticipated at the start of the year he counted his blessings that whoever was up there had given you a chance.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom hollad fic

151 notes · View notes