#trying to tell myself that the sudden disappearance of my waist does not make me less worthy or deserving of love but like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

everythingne · 2 months

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out of the woods, 5 (ls2)

With clear favoritism boosting all of Ferrari's tactics, Dhanishka makes a difficult decision after a crash causes her to see the true colors of her team. Logan sweeps in to save the day.

series masterlist

warnings/notes: mistreatment of Dhanishka by Ferrari, misogyny, migraines, car accidents with very minor injuries, dhanishka and logan kinda being toxic for eachother? yes this is rewritten !

(ch4) (ch6)

The little room they've shoved us all into for media is more crowded than I want it to be. The Chinese GP was off to a rocky start already, with downpour rains all day on Thursday and distant thunderstorms for all of Friday and Saturday, supposedly. Ducking through the media area, I'm looking for Charles, turned in on myself even in the room full of flashing lights as I try to hide from the world. I want nothing to do with media today. I know it's going to be a shit show, and my stomach churns and knots. I manage to hide pretty well, biting my tongue and moving as quickly and as silently as possible until I pop my head up to look. Charles had said he was in the back, but when I look around I can't spot his red shirt anywhere.

I'm about to leave, planning to head back to the garage until I have to come out for media, but I make solid eye contact with Logan across the room. A weird wave of calm hits me, before its also sprinkled with anxiety.

We haven't spoke since he kicked me out, and his face contorts somewhere between what I know to be his normal happy expression and his general frustrated expression.

I can't even read his expressions anymore.

I swallow my pride and smile at him, knowing the cameras are on me. I note his smile isn't full, he does still return one, which at least tells me he'll be normal around media. Which is still my biggest concern even with this new sort of tugging feeling in my heart, which I assume is from when he nestled himself in there and fancied himself a home. Even as he waves me over, I hesitate to move, and I can tell he senses my apprehension. Excusing himself from Oscar and Alex's sides, he begins to cross the small, cramped room. I manage to slip through a wall of reporters surrounding Max (who I don't notice is next to Charles), I'm accidentally being shoved aside and nearly falling flat on my head before I'm grabbed and pulled into the firm protective hold of Logan. Instinctively, his arm wraps tight around my waist as he brings me to his chest. My hands find his shoulders and slide across in a hug as he leans his head down to whisper,

"You look terrified, Isa." His hand squeezes my waist and leaves the skin tingly, as if he's shocked it with little electrodes hidden in his fingertips. All his lingering touches feel like that, they have since I was seventeen.

"I am." I say back to him as I pull back from the hug just enough for us to look at eachother, "It's first media day after we announced this whole... thing."

Logan nods and then sighs, but what I don't expect is for him to take me tight by the skin just above my elbows and into a quiet, dark corner. I also pretend I don't see Oscar cover up for our sudden disappearance from the media pen.

"What are we doing, Dhanishka?" He hisses through his teeth, trapping me in the corner. He's doing it to keep media from seeing our faces if they spot us through the tiny crowd behind Logan's back. But he's also doing it to pressure me into answering him, or at least it feels like that.

"What do you mean?" I ask, not exactly knowing what he's looking for me to say.

"With us." He emphasizes, "We never exactly spoke about it. And you look at me one way and treat me another, so figure out right now how you want this to go."

I pause, a deep feeling in my gut I can't name making its home there as I blink up at my ex-boyfriend now kinda-boyfriend.

"We go along with the PR plans." I say softly and he nods, stepping back to just huff, and run his hand through his hair before letting it fall to his side as he says, "This is probably the worst possible time to bring that up, but I'm sorry for just assuming you wanted to..."

He trails off and before he can finish, I shake my head softly and give him the tiniest reassuring smile I can muster. He quiets at the soft expression on my face as I bring one hand squeeze his forearm;

"No, Logan. I should've told you the truth of what I wanted out of this from from the beginning. It was wrong of me to string you along like that," and I hesitate before adding in a softer voice, "I don't regret it, if you're scared about that, too."

He seems taken aback by my apology, but before we can say more, Logan's manager Astrid comes up to us and smiles in the most fake way I've ever seen in my life.

"Oh good! You two, okay listen," She snaps at me to get my attention and I don't hide the obvious distaste for her attitude I have as she keeps talking, "you guys are acting super awkward and I know you aren't actors but we need to keep selling this to help PR, okay? Logan, be a bit touchier, Dhanishka, smile. You both have images to uphold!"

When she waves us over to media, everything just feels strained. We would've gotten somewhere without the rude interruption from his manager. Logan does listen though, and settles his hand on my lower back to guide me into the media area where a few different drivers are already being interviewed.

When we go to split off to do our interviews, he plants a soft kiss to the side of my head and fixes one of my necklaces thats twisted before squeezing my hand three times.

He did that when we were still kids.

I'm lucky Ophelia is calling me over to do the interview, so I can distract myself from the tears threatening to fall over my waterline. Luckily, for now, I'm out of the grabbing range of asshole reporters and the people who only want a headline.

"Danny..!" Ophelia sings, handing me a microphone labeled 'VOGUE' as she steps in, ever so elegantly, next to me.

"Hi, Ophie." I smile, leaning in to give her a tight hug. Luckily during media I didn't have to wear my team uniform, so I had been dressed to the nines in the white and red Ferrari dress-jacket-thing, with the little cape thing on the back. I knew I looked good, which is why I assumed Ophelia had grabbed me before she went off to find Lewis.

"Since we last spoke, quite a bit has happened, but lets talk about this outfit?"

"So, this is Ferrari, of course. I cannot remember the name of the jacket for the life of me. It's a white leather trench coat with a red silk trim, Ferrari's black boots with, of course, the red trim, and a black Ferrari purse. I am completely Ferrari today."

"You look stunning, the red of the Ferrari suits has always looked good on your but this pop? Stunning, brilliant, we love to see it."

We talk a bit more about fashion, and her interview is a bit longer than I'm expecting. I don't wanna leave the safety of her interview, but eventually I'm pulled away and into the mass of the boring, normal interviews.

I wanted to talk more about why Ferrari was using this specific shade of red, not why my rear wing continuously failed while Charles' was always fine. I chalked it up to me driving about a hundred times more aggressively than Charles.

After an hour of normal interviews, it's Sky News who comes to be the kicker. It's some white man reporter I don’t recognize. Unfortunately not Jenson today. When I feel someone staring at me while I greet myself to the reporter, I turn to their gaze and spot Logan. He's far down the pen on my left side and he's staring. When we make eye contact, he makes a foul face at the reporter before he's snagged by another reporter. I don't have time to try and ask further. I miss the reporter introducing himself but don’t miss the way Charles, on my right, comes behind me and roughly grips my wrist.

“Any specific reason you were spotted in London last weekend?” The man asks me. His grip is tightly holding the orange taped microphone towards me and I shrug with a tiny smile. I find myself awkwardly rocking from side to side out of habit. Something in my head tripping every red alarm.

“Just making some visits to my friends, is all. I also had some media responsibilities.” I reply calmly and catch Logan’s eye again. This time, my look lingers long enough to see him try to mouth something to me before the reporter talking pulls me away again.

“A certain driver seems to have caught your eye, though, are we correct to assume there’s some heat between you and a certain Williams driver?” The man smiles almost predatory. Immediately after, Charles taps the back of my arm to signal me to move back as he eyes the reporter. If looks could kill, we'd have a tag team homicide between him and Logan. So, I move back. My eyes study the mans face, the hooded eyes, the slightly narrower left eye. The crooked nose, the wobbly smile. It rings of Trident. Screams it in my face. I can't help but let a soft laugh tumble out of my lips at the realization. It's fucking Anthony Davis. That's why both Logan and Charles have stopped to watch.

“Thought my instagram post was pretty clear,” I chime once I find my footing and push my emotions back, “maybe not as clear as the literal blackmailing you did to Logan. But I'm sure that Williams' lawyers will be in contact soon enough."

My PR agent is gonna just quit one of these days due to my mouth. But I had to say what I needed to. I keep my ice cold glare on Anthony, who tries to stammer out some excuse about the blackmail and I scoff.

"Sorry your brother is too much of a liar to be able to dirty my name. So much so that he sent his baby brother to do his dirty work." I snip and Charles is staring like I’ve just cursed this man out.

I think I can hear Lando laughing somewhere off to the side.

"Dhanishka." Charles hisses through his teeth. Anthony tries to provoke me one more time, and then I point a finger in Anthony's face with a snarl as I step closer.

“We’re done with you and your bullshit, Davis. I hope you have a terrible day. Make sure to tell David I said hi, just to remind him of the woman who took his career from him.” I grin forcibly, watching as Anthony’s face grows in anger. Charles steps between us, asking Anthony to leave and I allow myself a reprieve here to look around. Logan gives me a little smile and an appreciative nod, which I return, before I’m being pulled away by PR.

Qualifying brings back Ferrari’s curse.

Charles tires go and he nearly crashes out right before the end and my back wing is broken by the time I’m done. With the challenges we faced, we both do qualify higher than expected which does make me feel a bit better.

After standing and talking about the car and strategy for way too long, I’m let loose to the solstice of my drivers room. The pristine and almost shockingly tidy room is a safe haven as most the chaos of this weekend and I allow myself to relax as I slowly get myself undone from the race.

I change and take my hair out of its now frizzy braid, taking the time to brush it as I stick my head under the sink faucet to wet my hair. I’m wringing it out as I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I call, grabbing a towel to place over my shoulders as the door pops open and I’m greeted with the soon to be Norris’ couple.

I gawk, “How did you both get in here?”

“Charles owed me a favor for all the times I’ve snuck him into Red Bull.” Olivia shrugs as she pops her purse down next to me on the couch, “and Lando doesn’t like me walking the paddocks by myself anymore.”

“That fucking reporter.”

“Don’t.” Olivia points at Lando, who huffs, and she then crosses the room to sit next to me on the couch before Lando can snag the seat. Olivia continues to speak after pausing to sip her drink, “good take down of Anthony today, little debutante."

“Ah. Thank you.” I laugh softly, brushing my hair with the same red brush, eyes glancing over to Lando and Olivia as I try to keep my blush to a minimum. Olivia's soft compliment made my heart skip, as any praise did. It was hard to come by it in this sport and I was honestly happy it was Olivia who was supporting me like this.

“How’re you feeling? You did pretty good for a busted car. I saw how fucked that rear wing was when I was pulling in the pits after Q1.” Lando continues the conversation and I shrug, turning at Olivia's cue so she can start to braid my hair for me. It's weirdly like having my mom or sister do it, I hate how much it makes me miss home.

“It sucks I’m not higher. Wallahi, I'm so tired of this." I complain, rolling my eyes back as I try and keep myself calm. Frustration wouldn't get me anywhere here, "they’ve been harping on me all season about getting back to the level I was at in Bahrain. And they're acting as if every race since, I haven’t had terrible car issues! Sorry you guys fucked up my car!"

"Sounds like Ferrari, between this and the way Aakash speaks to you over the radios?" Olivia hums, "I think I've heard both Charles and Carlos say these same complaints over the years."

"Maybe talk to Charles about everything, he'd know Ferrari better than I would." Lando suggests, watching his fiance as she finishes off my braid. She then squeezes my shoulders and pulls me back to rest on her chest as she lazily wraps her arms around me. Lando kicking his legs up to rest on my lap as he yawns into the back of his hand.

"I have been, he's been a huge help, but it's still ridiculous." I complain, smushed against Olivia's Red Bull tee as I close my eyes to fight off the stress migraine forming.

"The car or the radio?" Olivia asks and I laugh,

"Both." I declare and she nods in agreement. I complain for a bit longer, Olivia convincing me to talk to Charles about my frustrations once again. But by the time I've gone off to find him, I notice his attention being held by Fred and some of the engineers. Even when I try to get him away, he's continuously pulled back with soft sorry's thrown over his red clad shoulders.

After an hour of trying and failing, I just go home. It's not worth my energy.

I go to bed that night with a migraine, but I'm not sick, nor do I feel stressed. The migraine comes from nowhere, I barely have enough time to get meds in me and get myself tucked in my blankets before it gets worse. I barely stomach my dinner, and it takes ages for me to finally fall asleep.

The next day I nearly crash twice when my tires are too worn. I keep asking, but they won't box me. After the race, I attend all my meetings, and while they celebrate another Charles podium, I can't help but sulk in my drivers room after giving Charles a tight hug in celebration. Sure, I finished a lucky P9 for my car issues... but I was fighting with Max in P2 when my rear tires decided they hated me.

I asked so many times to be boxed. It’s not the first time they've refused to pull me into the pits, but today was the most dangerous. I had no grip, I had nothing but prayers and maybe a bit of luck because I didn't crash out.

And when Aakash is not supportive over the radio, maybe I lose my cool, and maybe that’s what causes half the garage to give me the cold shoulder as I get out of the car. I do what’s needed, barely speak, don’t smile, and then retreat to my room with the hope of my anger dissipating.

When my frustrations don't wear off, even after I snag the treadmill to sprint until my legs are jello, I go to try and find Charles for our little private post-race debrief. I need him in this moment like a fish needs water. The debriefs we have been having being the only thing keeping me from losing my mind in Ferrari. I spot him in the garage. He's being held captive by the team. They engross themselves in deep plans for his racing, smiling and waving hands in excitement. I notice no one had come to grab me. I dart my eyes around and swallow the sick feeling in my gut. Why wasn't I grabbed for a team meeting? Had they forgotten me?

"What about Dhanishka?" Charles asks, eyes flickering over to meet mine and I feel the pull to enter the conversation. I'm ready to make my way over, assuming it was a misunderstanding, until Fred shakes his head and squeezes his golden boys shoulder. The way he does it is so paternal. It almost makes me feel sick.

"Dhanishka comes second to you, Charles. You are more important than some girl. We'll use her to help you..."

Fred's voice fades out to a ringing in my ears. I feel my hands immediately start shaking. I feel myself becoming a mix of rage and embarrassment -- my face burns hotter than prodded embers.

More important than some girl?

How could I have been so stupid? All this time I've been trying to convince myself Ferrari wasn't Trident and here they are, planning behind my back. But to ass insult to injury, it's not for my benefit. In this moment, I am Viscaal, and I understand it now.

They've been straight up gaslighting me.

And when Charles snaps his head up to meet my eyes after a moment, I've already turned to rush down the hall. Tears of betrayal prick in my eyes at my own stupidity, that I felt like I belonged in this red building. Sure, it was something off hand, maybe he didn't mean it the way he said it due to poor translation from language to language, but it was enough to frustrate me to tears.

Would I ever escape teams like this?

I retire to my hotel room early that night. As soon as I can. All I wanna do is party, but to save myself the potential breakdown, I choose not to join anyone in the festivities. My mistake is thinking if I ignore the mass amounts of messages blowing up my phone, no one will search for further answers. Everyone, even drivers like Magnussen, knew I loved a good post race party.

I was the life of the party next to Lando after all.

As soon as I get back, still in all my racing gear save for the helmet, I drop my bag at the door, kick off my shoes, and crawl into bed. I ignore the world, let the sun set into black skies as I stay tucked in my bed. I can't bring myself to move, to change, to shower, to even eat. There's a mix of anxiety, fear, and disappointment in myself wrecking havoc in my gut and genuine pain in my body keeping me in the plush blankets.

My parents call to congratulate me, I humor them with a tired smile and blame it on the time zones. I pretend I'm asleep when I see Anya tries to call me twice.

I can't lie to her. I know she could tell it was more.

I have to ignore Anya so my family will continue to think I'm doing fine. I can't worry them about me turning into the monster I had been after Trident again. If that even seems true, my dad will somehow find a way to pull me out of F1 and bring me home immediately. I try to suppress it, but I can feel that monster clawing at the restraints. I've held it in for so long this season, making it all the way to China's GP, but I know one more thing might make me say fuck it and let myself grow cold again.

Half awake, several hours later, not that I would know the time, someone knocking at the door makes me jump. I ignore it, even as the muffled voices call for me and ask if I'm alright. They all sound like strangers due to how sleepy I am, refusing to move from my warmth, I just stay still. Laying curled up, tucked up to my chin in blankets, until someone scans a card in the door and begins to let themselves in. I jump, preparing to throw my phone in defense, when it's Danny who pops his head in.

"Just checking to see if you're alive, mini-me." He smiles, opening the door a bit more so from my vantage on the bed, I can see Charles and Logan behind him. I know they all see I'm still wearing everything I had on at the track, and I see remorse in Charles' eyes when he sees my state, but I shake it off.

"I have a bad migraine, but I'm alive." I say, choosing for that to be the reason as to why I was laying in the dark. Not because I felt too tired to get up to turn the light on. Or that I felt my seventeen year old rage returning.

"Need anything?" Logan asks, feather soft, before the others can. I hate how I can see him noticing all my soft lines turning hard. His eyes trace my face, across my shoulders and then to the way my body lumps under the blankets. I just sit there. Then I shrug when I realize they're expecting an answer.

"Just some sleep. I'll see you guys next race weekend." I wave them off, fake yawning into the back of my hand. Never a fool to my lies, Logan steps into the door frame. Just... welcoming himself in. I don't argue, though something tells me I wouldn't win anyway. Danny and Charles watch cautiously as Logan crosses the room to sit on the edge of my bed, pressing his hand to my temple.

"You're not sick." He murmurs, "just a stress migraine this time, then?"

"You--huh?" I blink and Logan smiles party, a soft blush on his cheeks only illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"You always get migraines when you're stressed or when you've got a fever, Isa." He squeezes my wrist, watching my face carefully, "If you don't feel hot when you have a migraine, it's just stress."

“It’s just… it’s been a rough weekend and I kinda snapped after the race ‘cause this migraine won’t go away.” I lie half now, Logan seems to buy it a bit more as he leans forward and gently pulls some of my stray hairs back behind my ears—settling them how he knows I like it.

“You did really well for all the issues you were having. Can’t beat yourself up over something you can’t control, Danny.” Daniel says from the doorway where he and Charles lean, I squint when I look towards them in the light and see while Danny looks full of concern—Charles looks sick.

“I know. It’s just been a hard adjustment.” I shrug and Logan nods.

“Adjustings a bitch.” he says and I laugh softly as he frowns, "have you taken meds?"

"Wasn't able to get up and grab them before the migraine kicked in." I say and Charles moves immediately, picking up my back pack and settling it on the edge of the bed while he roots through the side pocket to find my medication bottles. Once found, he hands them to Logan, who hands them to me while Daniel roots through the kitchenette for a water bottle.

"You guys don't have to do this." I say softly as Daniel tosses a bottle to Logan, who cracks it open and hands it to me.

"We do it because we care, not because we have to." Charles sits next to me as I take the medication and Daniel nods, sitting at the foot of the bed while Logan leans on the wall to my side.

"Thank you." I hum and then spend the next five minutes convincing Daniel and Charles to leave, and they go, with the promise that Logan will stay while I shower and get changed into comfy clothes because, according to Daniel,

"Logan's the only guy who really should be seeing that."

With a shove from Charles out the door, Daniel bids goobye and Charles follows suit. I go to get up and before I can, Logan gently sets me down.

"Relax. I'll get everything in order for you." He says softly, then pauses and turns, "they're still as bad as they were with Tri-- Sorry, F2?"

I note Logan cuts himself off and adjusts his words, as if trying to keep Trident a distant memory so I didn't have to think about those days anymore.

Or so he doesn't have to bring up how he still doesn't believe me about back then.

I nod.

Logan opens my suitcase, dodging the underwear and bras, and finds a Ferrari team shirt and a pair of baggy sweats for me. He dissapears into the bathroom and I hear the shower running while he comes back out to grab my hair stuff from the same little bag I've always kept it in before he dissapears again. The medication is kicking in, so a bit of the big edge of the migraine is starting to fade.

Logan comes to my side, laying a cold compress across my forehead as he hums, "Do you have the magnesium and the lavender still?"

"Magnesium I already took with my Maxalt. Lavender is over here." I point to the bedside table and he nods once he spots it, then asks,

"How about an ice cap?"

"In the freezer."

"Other meds?"

"Triphala churan is in my bag, I have the other homeopathy stuff with it."

Logan nods once more, using one of my hands to keep the towel in place for a few moments while he moves to fully draw the curtains closed and he clicks off all the ambiant lighting save for one small orangey lamp off to the far side of the room just so we can see.

"Come on, lets get you up. Get those tense muscles relaxed and get you cleaned up."

It shocks me how much Logan remembers from my migraine attacks, and though this is the acute point where I'm the worst, I find it easier to manage with him at my side.

He brings me into the bathroom, where he's set everything out. Even my skincare is set next to the sink.

"I'll be in the bedroom." He says from the doorway, "I'll leave the door cracked so you have a bit of light but I promise I'm not peeking."

His playful grin makes me tiredly smile as I thank him as he leaves, and I turn to feel the water. It's the perfect temperature. If I didn't already have a searing headache, I might've started crying. I take the time to wash my hair and body, lavender filling the room. It was what was in most of my soaps, considering it helped my headache flare-ups and migraines. I swear I hear Logan open and close the door to the room, but chalk it up to the sound of my headache ringing in my ears.

When I get out of the shower, I dry off and change as quickly as possible, hoping to be able to get out of the bathroom before standing too long made my migraine flare. I manage to do my skincare, which is a bonus, and as I step into the bedroom I smell some sort of food.

Logan is doing something in the kitchenette as so I stumble over and pop my chin on his shoulder to see him making up two little salmon and rice bowls he must've gotten from carry out.

"Feeling better?" He hums softly and I shrug, closing my eyes and sighing heavily. I feel his hesitation, before an arm snakes around my waist and pulls me close to him.

"Salmon is supposed to help with migraines so I got these bowls from this place Zhou recommended nearby." Logan says, dropping his shoulder under mine so he can lift me up. He carries me over to the bed and sets me down, allowing me to tuck myself in while he brings over the food and sits across from me.

"if my head didn't hurt so much I'd have a genuine thank you coming out of my mouth." I say before taking a chomp of the food and rolling my eyes at the absolutely amazing taste. Logan just laughs softly, taking his own bite and opening his eyes wide.

"Oh shit, this is really good." He says once he swallows, then his eyes peek up to mine with a tiny grin as he says, "and definitely not on my meal plan."

With the mix of my medication, the excess of magnesium in my system, the lavender, and a warm shower followed by good food, my migraine has edged off enough that I can enjoy this moment. We mostly eat in silence, even if I can tell Logan is worried. So I cock my head at him and furrow my brow, making him sigh,

"What happened today? Other than the race, I know the race stuff, but that wouldn't be worrying you because car failures are out of your control." Logan explains, making sure to keep his voice abnormally soft, "was Aakash rude on the radios again? Did something happen in Ferrari?"

"I..." letting out a long sigh I lean back into the bed cushions, "Well, yeah, I snapped at Aakash today. Ferrari wouldn't box me and I almost crashed like... four separate times. Luckily Lando or McLaren noticed something was up and had him back off."

Logan nods, listening along to every word I say.

"And then he kinda pissed me off with him being dismissive on the radio, and then cursing at me on the damn radio? And the FIA hasn't done anything about it. And then..."

I sigh, rubbing the side of my head that hurts and Logan leans back to grab the lavender oil and he pops it open to tap some along the insides of my wrists and the sides of my neck without me even asking. So I keep talking.

"And then I heard Charles and Fred talking and... and Fred said 'You are more important than some girl' to Charles and they've just been using me like Trident used Viscaal. Which is just..." I stare Logan dead in the eyes as I grumble, "so ironic."

"Jesus." Logan says after a beat, running his hand through his hair as he sets down his half empty salmon bowl on the bed to adjust how he's seated, "Okay, so, Ferrari's treating you like shit which is why you have this migraine, right? Nothing else?"

"Nothing else." I clarify, "everything else has been absolutely wonderful."

The 'even you' goes unsaid.

Logan laughs softly and rhen groans, running his hand through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling, "I'm sorry Aakash is being a dick, thats not cool of him. And for Fred to say that? I really hope he just messed up his words in translation."

"God, me too." I sigh, finishing off the last of my bowl and leaning across Logan to set it on the bedside. He sets his bowl in mine and then turns to help me get under the blankets so I can finally get some well deserved rest.

I can sense the tension in Logan, and take his hand, rubbing it like a massage as I murmur, "I know mentioning Trident makes this odd bubble of tension between us, and I'm sorry, but god now that I know how Viscaal must've felt I really feel like shit. Why did they make him do that..? What was even the point of crashing into you? We had like four races left in the season, I could've made up the points."

"Trident wanted their Renault fame." He shrugs, looking over at me as I barely poke out of the blankets, just my hands out to hold his.

“It’s probably stupid to bring it back up but I need you to know I genuinely had nothing to do with Viscaal and Trident.” I say and Logan sighs, adjusting the way he’s seated as he says,

“Let’s not ruin a nice moment.”

We talk for so long Logan ends up sleeping in the same bed as me. His arm is wrapped loosely around my waist as my head is tucked in the crook of his neck. It’s safe. It’s definitely not platonic, but it’s safe, and it’s what I need.

So far it's been:

Bahrain, P3,

Saudi, P5,

Australia, P8,

Japan, P4,

China, P7,

and now it's Miami, where I land a solid P10 after Carlos clearly attempts to knock me off the track entirely and runs me into the gravel. I have to fight for my way back up from P20, and Carlos gets himself and Red Bull a 10 second penalty for aggressive driving. I'm impressed with the run some of the back drivers give me (especially Haas and Alpine) but I'm frustrated in general with my finish, I had been doing so well I could’ve easily ended top three, but here I am scoring a singular point.

What could've been more is fucked over when Carlos in P4 swings purposefully wide and damages my front wing, knocking me off the track but not enough for me to fail to recover. We both have to box to check damages, and are both cleared to continue. Everyone can feel my anger in Ferrari, so Aakash doesn’t even bother with saying anything on the radio other than what he needs to.

When we finish, I pull up and wait for podium in the drivers room. I always go to support Charles, and I can tell it means a lot to him when he spots me in the crowd and a big grin pokes across his face.

He walks back to the paddock with me, an arm slung over my shoulder as we talk about anything but the race, and when we get back he excuses himself from the team to pull me into his drivers room.

"You alright?" Charles asks immediately, sitting on his PT bed and wiping his face off with a towel.

"I'm fine, but it's just-- ugh, It's not fair!" I complain to Charles as I pace the length of the tiny drivers room, "I don't know what he has against me!"

"Danny," Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Be proud of what you did accomplish today. Seriously, a wonderful ten place overtake in only seven or so laps! You did amazing tonight, even with that fuck up from Carlos."

"You've been podium every race except for Australia." I snip, whipping around so hard my braid whacks the side of my face, "What I would do to be able to get up there... it's just annoying some drivers have made it their agenda to get me off the track! Carlos has no reason to nearly knock me off the track multiple times today!"

"Carlos is frustrated Ferrari dropped him for you. He'll pretend to be amicable over at Red Bull but he's fucking miserable." Charles sighs, "Ferrari's been no help either, they've yet to pay him the rest of his contract."

"Well how is that my fault, Charles!" I ask, groaning softly as I bury my head in my hands and come to sit next to him. It's not like I had told Ferrari to pick me, it had been a huge surprise they had. Charles has no answer and I just huff and lean back into the couch's plush surface and hide my face.

"I'm miserable too." I complain into the air, and it's frustrating to admit it. Charles can tell I don't wanna talk about it, so he just pulls me to his side and lets me curl up there. I feel like a child, but I feel safe.

—

Imola proves to be more difficult than I expected.

I had qualified really well, starting in P4 with Max, Charles, and Lando ahead of me. I was holding my own during the race, but Ferrari wasn't clearing me to pass Charles to try and take P2. Which is honestly the least of my worries right now. Aakash has been non-exsistant on the radio today, barely answering as per usual. I was basically using my own strategy at this point, pulling off of tips I had been given by Charles for this track.

And everything is surprisingly going well.

“Woah!” I shout, turning clear of whoever is in the Alpine that’s stuck half off the gravel, I make some sort of contact but not enough to deter me, “Alpine is down on the track, hit him, I think front damage? Rear wing is still locked in DRS.”

“Understood. Possible red flag coming up, use these last seconds to try and secure position.” Aakash says into my headset and I reply back with a soft ‘copy’ as I go to turn normally but for some reason I find that I whip to the side—under steering hard. Luckily, by pure coincidence, it keeps Oscar behind me and secures a place in P3 behind Charles. But the car isn’t driveable in this state, extremely dangerous, and my hands shake as I struggle to press down my radio button while holding the wheel steady.

“My steering is going out!” I curse, trying to stabilize myself—waiting for a red flag or a safety or something. Where the fuck is this safety car for the crash?

“How bad is it?” Aakash asks and I grit my teeth as I pull into the next turn. I curse softly, breaking a bit harder than I need to but managing somehow to keep Oscar behind me. I think he knows to stay back, that something is clearly wrong,

“Terrible, terrible! I can’t fight like this!” I snap, groaning as we move now to a straightaway. Oscar comes to my left and I steer towards, Aakash is calling that the flag is flying and the safety car has been deployed, but my eyes are on Oscar as he tries to maneuver around the other side but I cut him off again—or try to.

I steer too hard, clipping the front of Oscar’s tire on the slick of the still drying rain and spinning out. I feel the gravel as the car spins and then the world rocks when I hit the wall. I can't breathe for a moment, breath caught in my chest as I grip my seatbelts.

"Fuck." I whisper, groaning aloud as I try to blink my brain back into order. It's like someone's hit me in the gut. My first F1 crash, not a terrible one, but I hope I didn't also take Oscar out with me. As I catch my breath, I begin to adjust in my seat so I can get out. No one calls over the radio for a moment, and then,

"Dhanishka, is the car okay?"

"Fuck you." Is my reply as I grab my restraints and slowly unclick them. It's agony to move as I take out my steering wheel and pop it on the top of the car, hoisting myself up and nearly buckling back down into the car in pure pain. I manage to get myself out by the time medics arrive, they take me to medical to get checked and it's like I'm not even worried about. No one from Ferrari comes to check on me.

I limp myself back to the paddock, guarded by McLaren employees and followed closely by Lando and Olivia--who is softly scolding the FIA in her phone. Her voice thick in frustration over Ferrari's dismissal of me, her hand on my lower back supporting me as I walk. Once they get me back to Ferrari, Olivia forces her way in to escort me to my drivers room.

"I'm gonna get them fined for this bullshit." Olivia mutters, helping me sit down on my bed. I don't reply as she hands me a change of clothes and then gives me a soft hug, the painkillers slowly kicking in and making my dull pain fade, but my migraine fights through. Because of course it does. Once I feel a bit better, I wave her off to go home and she reluctantly does after ensuring someone will swing by my hotel later to check on me. It ends up being Logan, because of course it is.

And my migraine flares when Aakash knocks, entering my room. He's still got his headphones on, and I bite back about thirty insults as he crosses his arms.

"Feel better?"

"No." I huff, "and your precious car is fine."

"Listen, we're pushing you because we need you to be a better driver." The mechanic looks at me, arms taught over his chest and I wish it was still Ami in charge of my comms.

"I don't understand what you want from me!" I shout in frustration, my hand itching to throw my helmet across the room at him. I’m not violent, I never have been, I don’t understand why I’m so short of breath. It feels like the rage in my belly fights to be fed by all the oxygen in my lungs, my hands shaking as he slam my helmet down and punch the plush surface of my bedding.

“Dhanishka—“ Aakash tries and I whip around, pointing at him and watching his face fill with shock as I finally snap under the pressure of the weekend.

“No, listen to me! [You all love Charles, treat him like your golden child! He coughs and you all run to get medicine, but when I am out there and I am struggling and nearly dying, you do nothing! I fought with a broken wing and a fucked up steering wheel and what help did I get?!]” I snap at him in my mother tongue, watching his face fill with something like horror as I step even closer, “[None of you were there for me! You all went to coddle poor Charlie—he was fine! I was the one who suffered for you! Where is my help? You have all done this the whole season!]”

“[Charles was frustrated—]”

I cut Aakash off, screaming, “[And I nearly killed myself out there because none of you would help! Do you think I wasn’t also frustrated?!]”

“Listen, I—“

“Get the fuck out of my room! I’m not doing media! I’m going the fuck back to my hotel.” I snap and Aakash listens, quickly ducking out of the room. I rip off my suit and throw it in my bag and I get changed into my street clothing, only pausing to touch up my makeup. I pass by Charles coming back from podium with a cold shoulder and shove through the crowd to my car, digging out my keys and getting in. I sit there, hands tight on the wheel for a while, and my fingers start to go numb as I feel like my brain is shutting off and going into autopilot.

I just sit back and watch, like a movie goer, as the world around me fades in my mind.

taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic

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randomprose · 3 years

Text

post-canon but pre-relationship moshang where it's the day of his death and transmigration

—

Shang Qinghua has taken a day off and is hiding in his leisure house.

Mobei Jun appears in the middle of his house in a swirl of ice and shadow because he has not heard from his servant in weeks. The curtains are drawn, the room is dark, and there is a feeling like a shadow is cast about the usually bustling space. Mobei Jun walks further in and finds Shang Qinghua curled up in bed staring miserably at the wall.

Shang Qinghua regards him when he appears at the threshold of his sleeping quarters but not with the usual cheery or even startled greeting of 'my king!'.

Instead, Shang Qinghua just gives Mobei Jun a tired sort of slight smile. "Not today, my king," he sighs before rolling on his other side, back against Mobei Jun.

At any other time, Mobei Jun would be offended, but there's something about this Shang Qinghua now that tells him he wouldn't get a rise out of him even if he makes his displeasure known.

So Mobei Jun just approaches the bed, picks up the thin blanket that has fallen on the floor, and drapes it over Shang Qinghua's prone form

"Thank you, my king," Shang Qinghua mumbles as he pulls the blanket around him tight.

Icy blue eyes travel across his curled-up form. Shang Qinghua looks so small to Mobei Jun, so vulnerable. He even looks washed out in his plain white sleeping robes and unbound hair almost blending in with his white beddings. He has none of his usual vitality and loudness. Shang Qinghua curls in on himself, shoulders hunched and knees up to his chest like he's trying to make himself disappear and it's tugging at something painful in Mobei Jun's chest.

"Qinghua, what is wrong?"

"It's nothing, my king. This servant is just having an off day ‘is all. You don’t need to worry," he mumbles. "Apologies as this one is unable to cater to my king right now but I promise I will be back to myself tomorrow and make it up to you tenfold so just…please let me have today."

At a loss of what to do at Shang Qinghua's words, Mobei Jun decides the best course of action is to get in bed with him. He doesn't know why, but that is what his instincts are telling him to do.

So Mobei Jun removes his cloak and boots, carefully setting them to the side the same way Shang Qinghua does whenever he does it for him, before climbing to bed behind Shang Qinghua and laying on his side. He lines his body against the frail human. The way they sometimes used to do during the earlier days of their acquaintanceship when Shang Qinghua was still just head disciple. Mobei Jun only hesitates for a second before wrapping an arm over Shang Qinghua's waist and pulling him flush against his chest.

It's a testament to Shang Qinghua's current state that he doesn't even try to pull away. He just lightly flinched before melting against Mobei Jun with a heavy sigh.

They lie together like that for a while, breaths even and steady, Mobei Jun holding Shang Qinghua and Shang Qinghua letting him.

"Today is the day I died," Shang Qinghua says at length. Mobei Jun lets out a quiet, confused noise at the back of his throat and Shang Qinghua huffs out another sigh. "I know, I know. It doesn't make sense. After all, I'm alive now, right? But I really did die before. This is not my first life, my king,"

Shang Qinghua whispers quietly. So quiet. Mobei Jun has not heard him speak normally since he’s come here, just in mumbles and whispers, almost as if Shang Qinghua doesn't even have the energy to talk.

"I know you don't understand, my king," Shang Qinghua sighs again. It feels like he’s trying to dislodge something on his chest. Mobei Jun feels rather than sees his resigned smile. "It's alright if you don’t. You don't have to say anything."

"Is that why Qinghua is sad?" Mobei Jun asks anyway, just as low and quietly, a sudden terrible thought forming in his mind. "Does Qinghua not like that he is where he is now?"

There is a flashback of Shang Qinghua’s pained, resigned smile. His words ‘My king, I really am leaving’ echo in Mobei Jun’s ears as he feels the familiar surge of panic at the thought of Shang Qinghua leaving. Of not wanting to be here. Is that what this is? Does Shang Qinghua not—

"What? Oh no, my king. On the contrary, I'm glad I'm here now." Shang Qinghua is quick to clarify. He squeezes the hand of the arm wrapped around him reassuringly and feels Mobei Jun relax against him again. "This day just always gets me feeling melancholic, you know?"

Mobei Jun still doesn't understand fully but he can understand what it's like to feel like this.

And regrettably, he knows he can't chase Shang Qinghua's sadness away even though he desperately wants to. Humans are dainty little creatures and there are many ways that they hurt. Unfortunately, some of those hurts cannot be easily fixed by healing balms and herbs nor a trip to Qian Cao.

So Mobei Jun just pulls Shang Qinghua against him more. He shifts to slip his other arm below Shang Qinghua’s head as he wraps his arms around him more securely, making sure no space between them exists. Mobei Jun buries his face in Shang Qinghua's hair and hopes he's giving him comfort even just by staying like this.

"Will Qinghua tell this king about it someday?"

"Someday,” Shang Qinghua hums, clutching at Mobei Jun’s arms. “If my king still wishes to know by then, this Qinghua will tell him someday."

"Whenever Qinghua is ready." Mobei Jun plants a light kiss on the back of Shang Qinghua's head. "This king will be here to listen."

Shang Qinghua lets out a shuddering breath. "Thank you, my king."

They fall asleep like that, with Shang Qinghua wrapped in his king's arms as he’s lulled by his strong steady heartbeat. Mobei Jun is a solid grounding presence and a balm that soothes the inexplicable ache in Shang Qinghua's chest.

In the morning, Mobei Jun has gone but Shang Qinghua wakes to find his cloak draped around him and feels like he can breathe again.

[ao3 | twt | buy me a ko-fi // more fics]

#originally posted on twt but it was more of a rough draft #anyway #i love tender moments pre-relationship #there's already intimacy there and all #they just need to acknowledge they love-love each other #and they should really get together romantic stylez lmao #that's me with moshang #moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua #svsss #svsss fanfic #scumbag system #scumbag villain self saving system #writing

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 12 - Bad Surprise [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Sometimes plans have to change.

Series Masterlist

Every job required something from people, and your job was no different.

Being a spy was not a conventional profession, everyone knew that. You were expected to be on the move all the time, be a good liar, be a good fighter, be whatever the job told you to.

And most important of all; never show fear, which you were usually fine with. You had learned long ago how to keep your calm in times of crisis. You had even managed to keep your calm facade when your last mission required you to play Russian Roulette with a target in order to keep your cover.

But this? This was something else.

Bucky cleared his throat to stifle a laugh as he looked down at you.

“Is it just me or are you using me as a human shield against a peacock right now?”

Your eyes snapped up at his for a moment before you turned your gaze to the peacock again, taking a subtle step to Bucky’s right to keep him between you and the animal.

Coming to the zoo was his idea, and you thought it could be a fun experience. You had never been to a zoo before, and it would count as one of the old times dates, so you were almost giggly by the time you got there.

Right until now.

“I think peacocks don’t have souls.”

“Alright.” Bucky sipped his coffee while you tried to ignore the fear bubbling at the pit of your stomach, eyeing the peacock that walked around the area behind the fences.

“I’m serious,” you insisted “What if it attacks me?”

“It’s not going to attack you Y/N.”

“It could,” you said, “It looks like it wants to attack me.”

The peacock fanned out its feathers all of a sudden and let out a squawk, making you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck!” the curse left your lips and Bucky’s eyebrows rose, an amused grin pulling at his lips.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, “Sorry, I…I don’t trust peacocks.”

“You got mugged in a dark alley and got shot, and a bird is where you draw the line?”

Correction, you were once held at gunpoint by the Italian mafia and peacocks were still where you drew the line.

“That’s not a bird.”

“….Peacocks are birds.”

“No, that’s the devil looking like a bird,” you said, “In-in bird shape. Bird shaped demon.”

“Okay, how about we see some other less threatening animal?”

“Let me check—oh my God Bucky they have sharks, I love sharks!” you said, waving the brochure in his face and he pulled his brows together.

“Sharks fall under the less threatening animal category?”

“Of course they do!” you said, looking at the brochure before looking around, “I think the aquarium is over there, let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand to entwine your fingers with his as you both started walking towards the huge blue structure.

“So I feel like I shouldn’t ask because I know you can’t exactly tell me the details,” you said, “But you’re not going on another mission soon, are you? This week?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Why?”

“I’m kind of planning something.”

He tilted his head, “What are you planning?”

“Not a club, relax.” you said, “Although I find it quite ironic that you’re this unstoppable brave superhero with super strength who gets intimidated by dancing.”

“I’m not intimidated…” he grumbled under his breath, making you giggle.

“Whatever you say,” you sang, and reached the entrance of the huge building and you pulled your hand out of his.

“Excuse me sir, is the aquarium still open?” you asked the security guard by the door and a small smirk appeared on his lips.

“Yes but it is closing in ten minutes sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

Jesus Christ….

You smiled politely at him, batting your lashes.

“Oh—“ you took a look at the sign, “I just want to see the killer shark and we’ll be out. In five minutes. Please?”

He eyed you up and down but seemed to snap out of it when Bucky cleared his throat behind you as if warning him, making the guy gawk between you two.

Even you had to admit you seemed like a quite unusual couple. You were wearing a short white sundress with ruffled sleeves and sweetheart neckline with your hair loose while Bucky looked as if he was there to kill someone, a complete opposite of you with his dark jeans and black leather jacket as well as leather gloves.

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know that he was glaring at the guard before the guy shifted his weight, then stepped aside.

“Enjoy.”

“Thank you!” you said, grabbing Bucky’s hand as you led him inside. He followed you without any objections whatsoever, in complete silence as the sight of blue filled your vision along with many fish swimming behind the glass.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” he asked softly and you pulled your brows together.

“Hm?”

“Does anyone ever say no to you?”

You approached the label by the glass, “You do.”

“Do I?”

“All the time,” you nodded, still reading the label but your head shot up when you felt him tug you by the hand. A giggle escaped from your lips as he turned you around so that you could look up at him, then wrapped his arm around you to scoop you up, making you squeal.

“Bucky!”

“All the time?”

“Put me down!” you said, your laughter echoing in the empty aquarium halls and he tilted his head.

“Not until you explain yourself,” he teased you, “All the time?”

“Sometimes, sometimes!” you said quickly, “Very rare times I might add!”

“Mm hm, I thought so.”

“If you drop me, I swear to God—“ you started but was cut off when he pulled you into a kiss, making you wrap your arms around his neck. He took a step with you still in his embrace and you gasped as you felt your back hit the thick glass, but every single protest you could think of seemed to disappear from your mind as you lost yourself in the kiss. You raked your fingernails over the nape of his neck, making his grip around you tighter-

Then someone coughed.

Bucky pulled back instantly and you turned your head to see another rather annoyed technician leaning on her hip, watching you with her brows raised.

“Aquarium is about to close,” she said, pointing at you, “Take it elsewhere.”

Bucky put you down and you tried to fix the skirt of your dress, trying to look presentable.

“Sorry!” you said as Bucky mumbled an apology beside you as well, and the technician shook her head and walked away, talking about how she wasn’t getting paid enough for this. You covered your face and let out a whine but Bucky chuckled, causing you to lower your hands to stare up at him.

“Why is this entertaining for you?” you exclaimed and he held your wrist, gently steering you to the exit.

“Come on.”

“We can never come here again, ever.” you insisted as you followed him outside. It didn’t escape your notice that he bumped his shoulder into the security guard’s quite hard, almost knocking him over on your way out and your jaw dropped.

“That was mean!”

“Nah, he had it coming. Are you hungry?”

“But you could get in trouble. Besides, he was a nice guy—“

“Uh huh, a nice guy who was ogling you.”

You pulled your brows together, pretending to be confused, “Oh I’m sure you misunderstood.”

He tilted his head and pulled you closer to wrap his arm around your waist, then brushed his lips against yours, making you sigh.

“Bucky, it was mean and you can’t just kiss me to distract me—”

“I can try,” he murmured to your lips before kissing you again and you looked up at him when he pulled back with a grin.

“Fine,” you admitted, still pouting. “I’m hungry. Starving actually, let’s eat something.”

***

You were finding it harder and harder to convince yourself it was time to go home after every date with Bucky.

Scratch that, you were finding it harder and harder not to invite him upstairs.

But of course, you would have to report it back to the General and discuss the further strategies with him and for some reason, it felt more of a betrayal than this whole thing.

Surprisingly enough, it was something you wanted and not something you would will yourself to do because of the mission. There was no denying it, he was an attractive guy and you really liked spending time with him and you kept having dreams about him and whenever you were with him you had this lightness in your mind, as if you were a different person.

A better person, maybe.

You shook your head at your thoughts and left your apartment to knock on Keith’s door.

“It’s me, open up.”

You heard footsteps before he opened the door and a boyish smile pulled at his lips at the sight of milkshakes in your hand.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I made it at home, can’t promise it’s good,” you said as you walked past him into his apartment and stepped into the living room, “What are you watching?”

“James Bond,” he grinned at you, “Hey, have you ever tried milkshake with gin?”

“No?”

“Me neither, let’s try it.” He said, taking the big glasses from you to pour gin into them. You sat on the couch and took a look at the screen.

“How many times have you watched this again?”

“Like a hundred,” he handed you your glass and you took a sip.

“Not bad,” you commented, putting your feet up on the coffee table. He sat beside you, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“What did you do today?”

“Had a date.”

“With Barnes?”

“Yeah. At the zoo.”

“He took you to the zoo?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And peacocks are fucking scary,” you muttered, “And hey, we learned that Bucky is the jealous type.”

“The guy was dating people back at 40s, I could tell you that much myself.” He snorted, “Chloe says you went on a mission with Julian?”

You slipped a little on the couch, “He’s an asshole.”

“I know. Is he really that bad in bed?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Nah as much as I hate to admit, he’s pretty good. Unfortunately.”

“So top or bottom?”

“He goes either way to be honest, that comment was more about me.”

“About you?”

“Yeah, I like to be on top.”

“Suddenly everything about you makes sense,” he murmured and you took another sip of your milkshake.

“Don’t try that with Barnes though, the guy is from 1940s. He’s probably used to missionary only, you don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he wiggled his brows, making you scoff.

“Shut up.”

“Chloe is right, maybe you should go full on vintage on that when the time comes.”

You turned to look at him.

“Speaking of Chloe,” you said, “Anything you would like to tell me?”

Keith’s grin faded slightly and he shifted his weight, “Like what?”

“Bringing her coffee, taking her out to the field…” you trailed off, “What gives, man? I thought we had a deal.”

“We never had a deal,” he defended himself, “You slammed me back during training years ago at the academy and told me not to even think about it when you saw me looking at her.”

“No,” you shook your head, “Five years ago, in Ireland. That undercover job, the one that almost got you killed? We made a deal.”

He swallowed thickly, looking down at the milkshake before taking a sip. “Y/N…”

“Keith, you can’t,” you insisted, “She deserves a normal life, a normal family and kids and a dog and stuff.”

“I know,” he ran a hand over his face, “I know.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a spy,” you said, “You said it yourself, spies die like flies.”

“Not all of them,” he said, “General is still alive. He has a family.”

“Yeah, one in a hundred,” you said, “Face it. That’s a very low possibility for us.”

“You don’t think you’ll get to grow old and have a family and all that?”

You pulled your brows together.

“No,” you said, “Of course not. I’m probably going to die in one of these missions.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Keith, I can’t have any of those,” you said, “I can’t. I…it’s impossible.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you muttered, “I made my choice ages ago.”

“Y/N,” he sat up straighter, “Do you want to?”

With a very bad timing, your imagination went overdrive and a strange scene flashed before your eyes. You laughing in Bucky’s arms, watching two kids playing in the garden-

You shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts.

“I could never have that,” you stated simply, “You might love Chloe and you might also be lucky enough to have her love you but…it’s not the same with me.”

“I’d say Barnes loves you.”

A bitter smile pulled at your lips and you bit inside your cheek, taking another sip of your milkshake.

“He loves someone who doesn’t exist,” you managed to croak out, “He loves my cover. He could never love me.”

***

Spending the night at Keith’s and drowning your sorrows in gin and milkshake meant that you would have a killer hangover the next day. Unlike Keith, you didn’t have the luxury to sleep until the noon, seeing that you had a cover job to keep so for the whole day until noon, you walked around like a zombie.

Coffee helped though. Just a little.

Thankfully it was a slow day at the shop. After serving a couple of people, you had nothing to do other than seriously considering sticking your head in the freezer to get rid of the hangover.

“Long night?” Tara asked as she walked past you to put the straws into the cup and you nodded, groaning.

“Remind me not to drink, ever.”

“I make that promise to myself every Monday, does not seem to work.”

You chuckled, “Have you ever tried to mix gin into milkshakes?”

“No?”

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you helped her to move an empty milkshake container into the kitchen. “It’s a terrible idea and I’m experiencing the consequences of that mistake right now.”

“That sounds like a fun night though.”

“Fun night, terrible morning,” you let out a laugh as you walked out of the kitchen but as soon as you did, your eyes caught the sight of the man in the shop. Your smile was wiped off your face as the familiar anger filled your system.

Jesus Christ, this day sucks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked and Julian had the audacity to shoot you a grin.

“Whoa cute outfit,” he said, eyeing you up and down, “Holy shit I didn’t even know I was into this whole thing, I’m having an epiphany.”

You looked over your shoulder to see if Tara was still in the kitchen, then turned to Julian.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was craving milkshakes,” he stated, “Hey, would you recommend Lavender Macaron?”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“I think I’m gonna go with Lavender Macaron, makes me think of France,” he said, “Fun times.”

“Fun for you maybe.”

He shot you a look, “Come on Y/N, we didn’t leave the honeymoon suite for two days. That was the greatest-“ he lowered his voice, “Mission I’ve ever had.”

“You’re putting this entire operation in—“ you started but stopped talking as soon as Tara walked out of the kitchen. Julian raised his brows for a moment before smiling at her and you went under the counter to grab his arm.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Just peachy,” you said as you dragged him out of the shop, and he heaved a sigh, following you.

“No I’m serious…” he said with a chuckle as soon as you both stepped outside, then motioned at the uniform, “This is something else.”

“Why are you here?”

“I heard that it was good, I did not think it was this good.”

“I’m seriously two seconds away from punching you.”

“How come you never dressed up like this for me when we were dating?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you insisted and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I was around.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want,” he said, “Your shop has good rating, although I’m beginning to believe it has less to do with milkshakes and more about the waitresses.”

“Julian I swear to God—“ you started but you were cut off when someone cleared his throat, making both you and Julian turn your heads. Your stomach dropped as soon as you saw Bucky watching you two with a frown and you withdrew your hand from Julian’s arm.

“Bucky,” you breathed out, “Um-hi.”

“Hi,” he said without taking his eyes off Julian, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

He was trying to decide whether he was a threat to you.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I figured I could drop by,” he said, crossing his arms, “What’s going on?”

Fuck.

Fuck, you had no idea how to turn this around. Thankfully neither of you had said anything about the mission, so it was more than likely that Bucky just knew you knew each other, but other than that, your cover wasn’t blown.

“Nothing! Nothing at all, he’s just—“ you stammered, trying to come up with an explanation, “He’s um—“

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t be one of those secretive people,” Julian said, “You hate secrets. You’re Bucky, right? I heard about you.”

Bucky just raised his brows, his glare on him unwavering but even if it was quite chilling, Julian was a trained assassin just like you were, so he was used to it. Instead he curled his lips, looking between you before offering him his hand.

“I’m Julian,” he introduced himself, shooting you a grin as if you two shared an inside joke “The evil ex-boyfriend who’s gonna take her from you.”

Chapter 13

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #bucky barnes x you #the falcon and the winter soldier

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pinkblosmx · 3 years

Text

Getting lost in Romania and meeting Mother Miranda (aka Mother Miranda saves you and slowly falls in love with you)

A/N: This was requested by @egirl-lilith there is soft Miranda at the end and use of her pronoun a couple of times

You planned a trip to Romania, it was a rare holiday for you and apparently there was some festival happening

That didn’t happen as you were walking in this tall grass completely and utterly lost. All of a sudden you hear this growl

You don’t think just run as this thing (that looks like a werewolf that didn’t finish its transformation) chases you as you shouted out for help, not qualified to deal with this sort of situation

A flock of crows? Ravens? Suddenly flocked behind you just as you fell over.

“Enough! Go back and I’ll deal with them.” A strict commanding voice says and you turn your head to see a very beautiful women looking down at you, with black wings

The woman introduced herself as Mother Miranda and asked who and how you got here

You explained that you got lost trying to get to a music festival as you begin to stand up

“I think you should come with me. Fortunately my house isn’t that far away and you can tell me about this festival.” Miranda doesn’t usually save outsiders but she wants to hear more about this music festival

Miranda walks you back to her house, sitting you on the couch and checking your body for injuries after that she makes you tea and fixes you with something to eat. You’re bruised but nothing serious and curious about what’s going on

“Was the flock of birds you?” You can’t help but ask before you start to eat as Miranda sits with you.

“Yes.” Her answer is simple and she looks at you. Then her questioning begins, it’s been a long time since she’s left the village and much of the world has changed

Some questions are easier than others and the ones you don’t know you use your portable wifi and phone for. Which is another thing you had to explain to Miranda

She found it all fascinating, listening very carefully as well as watching how you did things. If you were being honest in a way it was kind of cute

Over a few days you shared music with her, taught her how to take a selfie and tell her about yourself. Yet you knew nothing about her, apart from she ran this cult and had 4 ‘children’ which she briefly mentioned

You enjoyed your time with Miranda but you did want to get back to society, surprisingly when you told her you wanted to leave she understood, she walked you out to a safe spot

You thanked Miranda for her hospitality and gave her your number telling her to call whenever she wants

A couple of years pass, you and Miranda keep in touch. After you left, Miranda called you many times and in fact through calls you had become friends, you even visited a few times

On one of your visits Miranda was surprisingly having her wifi set up and asking you how she could work her new smart phone

It was on this visit that Miranda started to fall for you, wanting to be around you more, taking you to meet her ‘children’ which you requested

During the day Miranda was much more touchy, used any excuse to touch you and linger around you

Like when you met Alcina, Angie, Donna, Karl and Moreau. Miranda either had her hand on the small of your back or around your waist keeping you close to her

Not that you minded, as you’ve had a crush on Miranda for years but it did make you flustered

And unlike you, Miranda doesn’t want to accept her feelings for you, sure she wants to be close to you but that doesn’t mean she has a crush on you, she can’t have a crush on you. She thinks it’s ridiculous

So when you go back home why does she suddenly feel lonely and misses you. So much.

It doesn’t help that Miranda wants to text, call and FaceTime you just to stop what she’s feeling but everytime she goes to she ridicules herself telling herself it will go away in a few days

But it doesn’t, so a few days later Miranda arranges a meeting with Alcina, Angie and Donna. Miranda isn’t that intune with her feelings (and isn’t good at expressing them) but this is intense and she needs it to stop so she can concentrate on her experiments and tells them.

Alcina and Donna are quiet looking at Miranda as if this kind of thing was impossible. Angie is the first to speak up “You have a crush dummy!”

Miranda scoffs at the doll “I do not have a crush.” Then she looks at the other two women

“Mother Miranda that does sound like a crush..” Donna softly says

“It’s not a crush. I do not have a crush on y/n. That’s ridiculous.” Miranda firmly denied. Alcina then had a mischievous idea.

“Well if you don’t have a crush on y/n you won’t mind me claiming her for myself.” Alcina casually said. At this Miranda glared daggers at Alcina.

“You will do no such thing! You will not touch her at all!” Miranda shouted and was genuinely upset at the idea of not having y/n.

“I will unless you admit you have a crush on her.” Alcina practically dared her but Miranda still unable to accept her feelings said “I don’t have a crush on her.” With that Alcina stood up “I’ll be sure to come by when y/n next visits.” Then walked away

It was a few months until you visited again. Miranda didn’t forget Alcina’s warning. She was unusually lowkey possessive over you whenever you two went out. Keeping you close with her hand on your waist. She had her guard up

It wasn’t until one night where you were sitting on the couch with Miranda looking over at the results of a new experiment that there was a knock on the door and a familiar voice

“Mother Miranda I brought something for you and y/n.” Alcina said. You stood up and walked up to the door then you suddenly were pulled back into Miranda’s front.

“Miranda what are you-” Miranda had her arms wrapped around your waist and her lips close to your ear.

“Don’t open the door.” Miranda whispers, worried about what will happen if you do. The thought of losing you taunts her

“Why not? It’s just Alcina.” You say very flustered at Miranda holding you this close to her

“She wants to claim you.” The words come out as venom “and I don’t want her to.” She growls

You feel all flustered but you manage to say “I don’t want her to claim me either.” Miranda looks at you with sheer surprise she did not expect that but her worry of losing you disappears

You both tell Alcina to go away and resume your quiet evening, sitting down and this time you snuggle into her side. Which makes Miranda smile.

The next couple of days you spend most of your time with Miranda, brushing your hand against hers, you even kissed her cheek which gets a small smile to grace her lips.

It wasn’t until later that evening where Miranda said she was planning something and told you, you should go visit Donna and Angie for a couple of hours. Not one to argue and excited, you do as your told.

When you come back you see a table set up beautifully with a candle lit and two plates

Miranda looks scared, it’s strange to see the expression on her face

“I made us dinner. Your favourite.” Miranda says as you walk over to her and look her in the eyes.

“Thank you Miranda. What’s the special occasion?” You ask as Miranda holds your hand. Which is a first.

“The special occasion is that… I’m in love with you.” She answers finally admiting her feelings to you and herself. You’re in a state of shock for a moment, Miranda slowly starts to pull away but you pull her back to you and passionately kiss her

#mother miranda x reader

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painless-innit-colourful · 3 years

Text

Invisible

Potions of invisibility grant the user the ability to disappear, functionally: the concealment of one’s self through magic, distilled into a draught easy to swallow. For better and worse, Tommy’s familiar with the taste.

It tastes sour, primarily.

Looking at the ingredient list, no wonder. Nether wart and fermented spider eye. Gross. There are some things a golden carrot just can't balance out.

It's such a disgusting taste he doesn't notice the shimmering feeling, instead focusing his attention on scraping a thin layer of translucent brown sugar-mushroom-spider ick off his tongue. Not until:

"Tommy?" "Y- Bleh- Yeah?" "Oh!" Tubbo waves his arms in a wild arc, smile growing, before his hand collides with Tommy's arm, and he picks up Tommy's wrist. "It worked!" "What do you- Ohhh..."

If he blurs his vision, Tubbo's fingers circle around nothing. If he looks properly, he can just about see the edges of his wrist, the lines of his shirt sleeve. "Dude, how does that work?" "Which bit?" "Clothes. My clothes didn't drink it too." "Dude, I dunno... My turn!"

They learn to spot the tiny signs of an invisible person. They learn to disguise them. Tommy tries to tackle Tubbo and misses completely, and both of them fall about laughing.

Call that a drug van success story.

---

He sprints past it, hoping they aren’t following, panic filling his bloodstream. He chugs the potion as he runs, drops spilling down his front, staining his navy coat with off-white shadows as he shimmers and disappears into thin air.

Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.

He stumbles into the shallow waters of the lake, wading - disturbing the water, too many signs, you're gonna be seen - towards Tubbo's tunnel. He takes three steps and slips under the surface, landing on his hands and knees on the tunnel floor, waiting, waiting- Where are they?

There's the sound of an arrow seeking its mark and hitting true, and for a split second Tommy sees an arm with deft fingers and a dark blue sleeve fall over the side of the entrance, and then the body is gone and shit shit shit-

Tommy sticks his head back out- Who was that? Wilbur? Tubbo? He feels the shimmering feeling again - "a quick escape", where are the others - and slowly drops back to the tunnel floor.

Make a decision, what if they find you, Little Laddy One Life? He walks away, opting to live to fight another day, hoping that his friends will join him soon.

---

Funnily though, while clothes disappear with the potion, armour doesn't. He doesn't know why; he's not smart enough to. And right now, as he yanks the shoulder straps of his chestplate tight, he doesn't really care.

"Stop!" They don't stop, voices mostly drowned out by the overwhelming sound of rushing water. Dream, his face also hidden, but by his signature mask as opposed to the magic of an invisibility potion, holds his hand towards Tubbo and tells him "I need the disc." Tommy crests the wreckage of the Community House, no longer attempting to stay hidden as the water thunders down around his ankles, pulling him towards the platform in the centre. It's a bizarre version of the Pit. It’s an arena. It's a stage.

"No!" He screams, as Tubbo takes half a step back towards the ender chest. Heads snap to his position, looking at the empty suit of armour that's just appeared beside and above them. Tubbo stutters something in quiet disbelief, and between that and the sudden attention, Tommy falters. If he took off his armour now, could he get out of there? Or would the same fate that once befell Wilbur catch him? The blame for this building is on him, after all.

He jumps in, landing on his feet between Dream and the cabinet of L'Manberg. He is caught in the crossfire of their questions: "Tommy?" "Is that Tommy?"

He shouts, and he screams, and he revolves like a merry-go-round, trying to keep his eyes on everyone, not trusting that his armour'll be enough to protect him from the sheer amount of enemies about. So many people hate him, he realises, it's 30 v 2. Technoblade would like those odds. Technoblade, who's standing beside him, not invisible because he went to get milk. He likes the protection; he thinks.

They don't listen. Tubbo keeps insisting he betrayed them all by teaming with Techno, that he betrayed L'Manberg, but they don't understand, he didn't have a choice, "You don't know what he did to me in exile." Tubbo has the disc in his hands, and without having an inkling of where Dream's eyes are, he watches him consider simply snatching it from Tubbo's hands.

"You're not gonna give him the disc." Tubbo looks at him like it's a dare, and why can't he see? Tommy's practically crying with the effort and exertion of watching his best friend betray him in slow motion, of being this close to his abuser, of being blamed for something he didn't do, of being beaten down every time he gets on his damn feet.

"I don’t need to prove myself to you. This wasn’t me. Trust me. Jesus— for once in your life, Tubbo, trust me." Tubbo's eyes are cold, his mind made up. What happened to us against the world? "I did trust you. Once. The first time all of this happened. And I won’t make the same mistake twice."

There's a little moment where time stops, and everyone draws nearer like a crowd at the coliseum, and Tommy feels his invisibility ripple slightly, warning him it's about to wear off. Who the fuck cares.

Tubbo takes a step towards Dream, and Tommy lunges to put himself between them. "Don't you dare." Tubbo's hand goes to his axe. "You betrayed me, Tubbo, you- Did you just-" Both of their eyes are on Tubbo’s weapon, when he puts the disc away, staring Tommy down plainly with his one hand returning to the axe at his waist, and the other taking out his shield. "I didn't betray you." His voice is level, all business. Okay then, Mr President.

"You betrayed everything that you'd built with presidents prior." Tommy's anger, and hurt, and frustration, and pain finally boils over, so much so that it's visible in the way he shakes as he brings out his axe. "You know what?" He bites into a golden apple, feeling its effects drown out the rushing water and the shimmering sensation of his invis. "You've got your axe up." Technoblade’s tone is surprised but light as he tells Tommy to make this decision wisely, but he’s already gone, his safety and conscience be damned. He throws himself at Tubbo, brandishing his axe as the pigman taught him, like he once practised with the brown-haired boy he’s swinging at, thinking You say I betrayed you? I'll show you a traitor.

Poetically, perhaps, it's less like a fight, and more like a dance. They are a whirlwind - a hurricane - clashing and blocking and pushing and shoving across the otherwise empty floor. Somewhere in the gushing water, Technoblade's bloodlust has seized him, and he's gone for the L'Manbergians and the festival-goers and the unrelated parties that came when they saw the destruction, and he's scattering them this way and that, but who cares about that?

They are not equally matched. Tommy shakes too much: there is too much of him vulnerable here, not just his mortality, something that neither invisibility nor armour can keep from being scratched and damaged. He's losing. He's quite badly losing, despite Tubbo's inferior armour and weapons and allies, and he leaps into the nearest watery wall, letting the Respiration helmet Techno made for him protect him as the water drags him under and away from his attacker. His best friend. He bites into another golden apple, his pleas swallowed by the torrent. He still hears Tubbo's shout though, permeating the water and being relayed through his communicator from wherever Techno is.

"Where are you?"

He pops back up, shaking and soaking wet and sees a familiar sight: an old friend, a brother - once - staring him down with death in his eyes from behind brown hair. He was wrong, oh so wrong, all those weeks ago: at once he is Schlatt, alone at the end of his days, and there's Wilbur, old pals who'll be the death of each other. No.

No.

"I didn’t betray you, you teamed up with the very person that destroyed us the first time!" He feels his invis shimmer one more time, and the timing is immaculate, really. Cinematic, one might say.

"I went for the discs— Tubbo, the discs— The discs were worth more than you ever were!" "No... Wh- Th-" The world stands still, and it feels so good, it's so good to finally say it, to watch Tubbo's face fall, his shield slipping from his hand, listen to the reactions around their little arena, watch as Tubbo shuts his mouth and yanks on the strap of his chestplate and lets it drop to the floor, leaving him defenceless and open to attack and wait- no- wait-

Mutely, Tommy’s gaze drifts skyward, and it should feel good because they know now, they know how he feels, but it's not, it's not good because that- that wasn't true. That wasn't right.

And he looks back at Tubbo, and finally, finally, his invis runs out, and he hopes it shows on his face, that he knows he's fucked up because Tubbo looks destroyed, and a shiver goes through him because he no longer looks angry he just- He just looks sad.

He takes off his helmet, breathing heavily from the ache and exertion, heart burning in regret.

‘The discs were worth more than you ever were.’

How do you fix that? For one crazy moment, he considers the invis again. Turning translucent and running, back to Techno- back to Technoblade who'd congratulate him on 'moving on' and tell Phil like he was proud and probably write that line on the fucking wall, how could he be such a monumental ass-

"Tubbo?" Their eyes meet. Tubbo says nothing.

"Give him the disc."

He looks bewildered, "You want me to give Dream the disc?" He says, the tiniest sliver of something they used to have peeking through, the bearest hint of kindness, and bless him, it's more than Tommy deserves. It makes him want to go invisible again.

He smiles softly, and it can't reach his eyes, but he pours every ounce of good left in him into it and desperately hopes it's enough.

"Yeah." And because he's fucked up, because he knows they can never go back from this: "I'm sorry Tubbo."

---

He's done it again, he keeps fucking up. Sam's hand is holding him down by the shoulder, firm fingers digging into him, keeping him from reaching Ghostbur.

He tried so hard. His throat is sore from not coughing. His muscles hurt from the pure tension and adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream, from his stubborn heart to the ends of his fingers and toes. He thought he'd gotten caught when he drank the potion in the waivers room, and his heart had been beating so loud that he'd thought Sam could hear it.

Yet, they made it. But it doesn't matter, because he pulled out the axe too early, and now he's busted, and Sam's gonna kill him or Wilbur's going to come back or both, and it's all his fault.

Every time he tries. Every time he tries to fix things, or do what's right, or have something for himself, it's taken away, destroyed and he's kicked to the ground. Every time.

It's enough to make anyone want to be invisible.

#and today's writer mood is: liberal use of italics #hell yeah!#so funny story: this was supposed to be a saturday morning ficlet #it ended up being a saturday afternoon fic #oh well lmao #dream smp #dsmp fic #crim writes #tommyinnit #tubbo #this was quite a lot of fun #please rb and comment/reply! it means a lot to have feedback #heaven knows we're all just waiting for validation :)#clingy duo

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warmau · 3 years

Text

☆ko-fi au: idiots-to-lovers!au kyungsoo | tw: suggestive *this is more like oblivious-to-lovers/mentions a breakup find other exo aus: here

"do you want me to take care of him?"

kyungsoo's voice is calm as he sits across from you in the kitchen, late-night coffee untouched on the island counter

"no, it's ok. plus you know if it was legal i could right hook him myself."

you flex your arm and kyungsoo cracks a half smirk, eyes big and brown from behind his squared frame glasses

sehun appears from his room and groans, rubbing his head as he takes kyungsoo's untouched cup and swigs it down

"ew! why are you two drinking caffeine at one in the morning!"

he sputters as he slams the cup down and kyungsoo looks apathetically at the splashes of coffee that make their way onto his tshirt

you give him a sympathetic look as you tell sehun to go back to bed - he's your roommate and you know he and kyungsoo get along like a cat and a dog would

"fine. by the way - did your jerk of an ex return your stuff yet?"

you wave your hand and shrug

"no, he just texted me that he threw it all out by accident."

sehun groans with a hand on his hip, mumbling about how in between your things he's pretty sure your ex also took his copy of some video game

he makes himself a glass of water and disappears again and you and kyungsoo are once again left alone together

best friends since high school - he was the only person you could think to call when you'd gotten the infuriating text, along with a number of other rude things your ex had decided to divulge

he had no qualms about driving down here in the dead of night

he has work tomorrow, but he lies when you ask and says he doesn't

you lie and say you don't either because you want more time with him, regardless of this ex drama or not

because

well

you're both in love with each other and it's so painfully obvious to everyone with eyeballs but you two.

not even when you were voted cutest couple by your peers and brushed it off as a prank

not when all through college your partners had brought up the other as a constant wedge between your relationships

not even when your own parents would mistakingly ask if you and kyungsoo were planning on moving in together finally

if there were divine signs in this world, you and kyungsoo were recklessly passing them by

and willful ignorance couldn't even cut it at this point

not when the world seemed to be holding up a neon sign with arrows aimed at your heads flashing: soulmates!

"i just wish i could do something to get back at him though, i know revenge is the low road but..."

you huff and rest your elbows on the island as kyungsoo takes his phone out and places it in front of you

"i have an idea. you haven't texted him back, have you?"

he doesn't blink and you shake your head

"no, plus my read receipts are off."

"then i think my plan might work. it is a little bit risky though."

kyungsoo has always been the levelheaded one of you two, actually, he's outwardly more levelheaded and calm.

you've known him so well that you have seen the occasional, rare outbursts of emotion that are otherwise always hidden

so when he explains his plan - you're surprised by how sly and also how intimate it is

you had expected kyungsoo to say something about reporting your ex's instagram or tracing his IP to block it

when he'd said

"why don't we take a pretend couple photo together and post it now. your ex will think i'm at your place."

it had taken you a whole ten seconds to realize why posting such a photo at this time of the day would probably send your ex into a frenzy

kyungsoo even motions to himself and says he'll take his shirt off for added effect

"i could never ask you to post something like that on your account...."

he pushes his glasses up

"i don't care, social media doesn't impact my daily life anyway."

swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat you are aware of how tiny the walls around you two seem

like they're pushing you together by an unseen magnetic force

"o-ok."

kyungsoo gets up, he flicks his eyes toward sehun's room but the door is shut tightly, and he pads softly toward your door

he's been in your room more than any other friend, he could probably find his way around in complete darkness

and he does - sitting on your bed as you come in after him, flicking the light on

"should i - should i like mess my hair up or something?"

you mean it as a lighthearted quip about the already awkward situation, but kyungsoo pulls you toward him and in between his knees

his hands come up and tussle some of your hair to make it look disheveled.

"take off my glasses"

you reach out and notice the little tremor in your hand as you slip them off

his face is clean and unchanging

has he always been this handsome? something seems even more hot about him after he got discharged.

you place the glasses carefully on your nightstand

"so how do we do this?"

kyungsoo lets his hands splay on the back of your thighs, as quickly as you were standing you end up sitting in his lap - legs wrapped around his waist as he lifts you into a comfortable position.

you position your arm around his neck and then apologize, but he doesn't react

instead he shrugs out of the shirt with your help and loops his finger through the strap of the tank you're wearing

"you don't have to take it off, we can just push the straps down"

the moment is so clearly special, close, and personal

even if it's supposed to be some elaborate laugh in your ex's face. there is not question about the palpable energy in the room.

but you and kyungsoo keep along with the act that it means nothing

that it means nothing when you're pressed against the skin of his chest and kyungsoo is cheek to cheek with you, lips close to your temple

he gives it a small kiss, the kind that flutters something deep in the cavern of your chest, just as you take a photo with his phone

when you both look at it - you don't make a move off his lap and kyungsoo's hand that is close to the curve of your hip doesn't budge either

the picture is so realistic you blurt out

"we really look like a couple."

the silence simmers and simmers and simmers

kyungsoo doesn't try to leave, you don't tell him to go

the clock on his home screen ticks closer and closer to two a.m.

"we should be one."

kyungsoo turns his attention completely on you, your hand on his shoulder curls a little and your nails feel good against him

"we should be what?"

you ask, feeling dumber than you have ever in your life

"be a couple."

kyungsoo uses the hand that's not holding you ontop of him to unlock his phone, navigating with ease to his profile and without any warning, he uploads the photo

captions it with nothing but a heart emoji

and posts it

you think you're going to faint and fall forward into his warm embrace

his phone starts to buzz, even this late at night a photo like that catches the attention of everyone following him

he doesn't look at the notifications - looking at you instead

"what do you say?"

the words don't come to your brain - all these years of pinning in silence

all this time spent pretending you weren't destined to be together to your own annoyance, his, and everyone elses

you see a comment pop up on the post from sehun's profile

"since when does he follow you?"

you mumble and kyungsoo opens it with a swipe of his thumb

oohsehun: thank god. but ewwwww don't bang with me in the house!

oohsehun: also @real__pcy you owe me ten dollars i told you once they break up with their boyfriend these two are going to see the light and finally get together

"see"

kyungsoo hums

"everyone already thinks we're in love - so why don't we just be in love?"

you move in his lap, acutely aware of the friction you both create like this

"do you want to be in love with me?"

you murmur, heartbeat starting to ring in your ears as you wait for him to answer

kyungsoo licks his lips and takes in a deep breath

"i don't have a choice, i have always been in love with you."

you think your heart stops - just for a second - because you can't hear it anymore

suddenly everything is full of kyungsoo

and you push him back onto your sheets to press your mouth open and hot to his

beside your bodies his phone pings with more and more notifications

most of them are congratulations and exclamations that mirror sehun's.

one is an angry stupid comment from your ex, but kyungsoo and you don't have to do anything.

sehun takes care of that in a single reply for you two

(everyone agrees with him and by the time you and kyungsoo wake up later, your ex has deleted the comment like the embarrassment he is)

#idiots to lovers #oblivious to lovers #ko fi commissions #kyungsoo au #kyungsoo imagines #kyungsoo scenario #do scenario #do imagines #exo scenarios #exo au #exo imagines #exo #kyungsoo #im sehunm

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narumi-gens · 3 years

Text

A Last First Kiss

Miya Atsumu x Reader Headcanons

notes: I felt really bad about leaving you guys with so much Atsumu angst in those fake wedding date hcs that I decided to write some proper, fluffy New Girl inspired hcs. warnings: mentions of past infidelity but otherwise happiness guaranteed

💋 It all started when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years cheating on you. With literally nowhere else to go (considering you had moved in with him and it was his name on the lease), you had shown up on Atsumu’s doorstep in a daze, asking if you could stay in his spare room for a few days while you tried to come to terms with your new reality, which is that you were now single and homeless.

💋 You and Atsumu had always been friendly, even if you had never exactly been friends. He was always the guy that you could have a laugh with in a group setting, but you never knew him well enough to actually hang out just the two of you. In fact, the only reason you even ended up at his place was because you had dropped your purse (which contained your phone, wallet, cash, and credit cards) on the living room floor in pure shock when you saw some woman who wasn’t you with her mouth around your boyfriend’s dick, and Atsumu was the only person you knew who lived within walking distance.

💋 A few days ends up turning into six months. This means that Atsumu is there when you cry so much that it feels like the tears will never end. He’s there when you monopolize the living room TV, sitting through the romcom marathons without complaint. He’s there when you fill the freezer with so much ice cream that you have to move everything else in it into the fridge. It also means that he’s there when you decide that it’s time to stop moping and get back into the dating pool -- and it doesn’t go well.

💋 It’s the first date you’ve gone on since the break-up. You spend all day freaking out because this is the first first date you’ve had in over four years. Atsumu looks at you like you’re crazy when you demand he tell you what young people do on first dates these days.

💋 You’re so worried and incapable of doing anything that Atsumu’s the one who has to pick out your outfit, assuring you, “Look, this guy’s the lucky one, not you. He’s the one who needs to impress ya, not the other way ’round, got it? Now go get lucky!” before he sends you off on your date with a cheesy but encouraging thumbs up.

💋 But it all ends up being for naught because four hours later, you trudge through the front door, face buried in your hands, embarrassment so great that you’re trying to will yourself to just disappear into nothingness. Atsumu watches in confusion as you shuffle into the living room, grab the blanket off the back of the couch, wrap it around yourself until you’ve bundled yourself up in a blanket burrito, and collapse next to him pathetically.

💋 “How was yer date?” he asks and you just let out a whine that’s so high-pitched, Atsumu worries it might actually damage his hearing. He tries to console you, assuring you that it was just a first date and there are plenty of other fish in the sea and that the hardest part is over now because at least you’re now back out there. He continues to feed you well-meaning platitude after well-meaning platitude until finally you can’t take it anymore.

💋 You peek your eyes out at him from the end of your blanket burrito just enough to give him a glare that shuts him up. “So, what happened? Was he a jerk? Was he boring? Was he ugly?” You sigh heavily and fully pop your head out of your cocoon, your hair now sticking up at odd angles.

💋 “No, he was great and we had so much fun together,” you tell him, but the tone of your voice says otherwise. Atsumu tosses you a confused, “Then what’s the problem?” that makes your face scrunch up in embarrassment as you let out another whine as you replay how the date ended in your mind.

💋 “He was such a gentleman and he was so nice. We were downstairs in front of the building and I could tell he wanted to kiss me and he started to slowly lean in and I freaked out and screamed then I gave him a punch to the shoulder, bowed, shook his hand, and called him ‘buddy’ before I literally ran inside,” you blurt out, all in one breath. You open an eye to look at Atsumu, who’s staring back at you with pure horror written on his face.

💋 “Why? Why would ya do that?” he finally manages to ask once he’s over his shock and you groan, wiggling in your burrito until you can pull your arms free so that you can hide your face in your hands for the umpteenth time. “If ya don’t want to kiss him, then don’t kiss him!”

💋 “But I thought I did wanna kiss him! I thought I was ready!” you groan. “But when he was leaning in, I just...” you trail off and when Atsumu prompts you to continue, you just sigh wearily before dropping your head back to look up at the ceiling tiredly. “You wouldn’t get it.”

💋 “Try me,” he offers and although you refuse to look at him out of embarrassment, you can hear his sincerity. You let out another, quieter sigh. “I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with Shinji. I wanted to it all with him -- get married, have babies, grow old together.” You glance over at Atsumu and see how his expression has softened. “And when I saw Taichi coming closer, all I could think about was how I couldn’t see myself doing any of those things with him.”

💋 He’s quiet as he takes in what you’ve just said, thinking over your words before he gives you a kind smile that puts you at ease. “Don’t ya think yer worrying too much over this? It’s just a first date. If ya wanna kiss him, then just kiss him. Maybe you’ll feel that magic when ya do. Live in the moment a little.”

💋 "Look, promise you won’t think I’m being stupid?” you ask softly and you wait for him to nod before continuing. “I want the next first kiss I have with someone to be the last first kiss I ever have. Even if it’s not actually the case and even if things don’t end up working out. In the moment when it’s happening, I want it to feel like it could be my last first kiss. And I just...didn’t feel that with Taichi. It just felt like any other first kiss.”

💋 You wait for him to laugh or tell you that you’re overthinking things. You wait for him to say that all the romcoms you’ve been watching have distorted your sense of reality. You wait for him to tell you that you just need to get laid. But in the six months that you’ve been living with Atsumu, you’ve learned that he never does what's expected.

💋 “I don’t think that’s stupid,” he says simply after a few moments and now it’s your turn to be shocked. The look he’s giving you is just so kind that it makes your heart flutter happily in your chest, the disastrous end to your date slipping further and further into the recesses of your mind.

💋 “Y’know, we’ve known each other awhile now, but it’s only since ya moved in that I’ve realized how soft ya are.” Soft. He says it thoughtfully. He’s not teasing you or pointing out some sort of perceived flaw. The word sounds almost...fond. “Yer heart’s soft.”

💋 The statement hangs over the living room, but it doesn’t feel heavy or oppressive. It feels warm and comforting. It feels like someone finally understands you. He then drops his hand on top of your head and smooths down your messy hair affectionately. “Don’t feel stupid for wanting to be soft, okay?”

💋 The sudden lump in your throat keeps you from being able to say anything in response, so you beam back at him and nod your head, furiously blinking away the tears that you can feel threatening creeping up on you. He smiles back in return and brushes your hair behind your ear before he stands up. “I gotta get up early tomorrow for practice,” he says. “Ya gonna be alright?”

💋 “Yeah, I will,” you assure him, meaning it wholeheartedly. But then you smile at him sheepishly and hold out your hands. “Can you help me out of this blanket though? I think I’m stuck.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, but makes no other complaint as he takes your hands in his and helps you stand.

💋 He then lets go of one of your hands to grab onto the end of the blanket, using the hand holding yours to slowly twirl you around twice until the blanket comes fully loose and he can drop it onto the couch. Slightly dizzy, you clutch his forearm with your free hand and take a moment to reorient yourself with a soft giggle.

💋 When you look up at him, you see the same softness in his eyes that he seems to see in you and it catches you by surprise. Your heart starts to beat a little more quickly in your chest, but you don’t know why. All of a sudden, you realize how little space there is between the two of you -- only a couple of inches at most.

💋 And then his lips are on yours -- needy, hungry, desperate, soft. The kiss feels like a flash fire. Where only moments ago, you were feeling warm and content and fuzzy, you’re now at the mercy of a white-hot heat that starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads out so rapidly that it’s consumed your entire being in a millisecond.

💋 His arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you close before one slides up your back and he buries his fingers in your hair, quickly running them through your stands. Then both hands are running down your sides before they’re both on your back once again, his touch warm through the fabric of the dress he picked out. It’s like he’s so eager to feel every inch of you that he can’t keep his hands in one spot -- he needs to feel all of you.

💋 It’s not even that deep of a kiss, his tongue only briefly darts out to run over your bottom lip before it returns back to his mouth. Instead it’s really just his lips moving against yours, hinting at what more might feel like but never going far enough to actually let you have it. And it just makes you more desperate as you return the kiss.

💋 But just like a flash fire, it’s over almost as quickly as it began. He gives you one, two, three more kisses before he’s pulling away, your foreheads resting against each other, his breath hot on your face where it mingles with yours as you both pant for air. Then, he leans in and gives you one final, chaste, soft kiss before he meets your glazed eyes.

💋 “A last first kiss, huh?” he murmurs, his voice rough and low and threatening to ignite the fire all over again. His hands slowly slip from you down to his sides and you miss the warmth of his touch already. You can only dumbly nod in return, your breathing still shaky as you try to catch it. The corners of his lips twitch upwards, something fun and mischievous and affectionate and...happy written plain across his face.

💋 “Goodnight,” he says gently and once again, all you can do is nod, still too dazed to do anything else. He seems to understand your plight because you can see how his eyes are shining with mirth. But his flushed face is a clear giveaway that he’s just as affected as you are.

💋 You’re still frozen in place as you watch him walk away until his broad shoulders disappear from sight and you hear the door to his bedroom close. Slowly, you raise a trembling hand up to your face and brush your fingers against your still-tingling lips, where you can still feel the ghost of Atsumu’s.

💋 Your mind is racing, but there’s only one thought that you’re able to fully grasp onto, desperate not to let it go as a small, soft smile appears on your face. You want more than anything for that to be the last first kiss you ever have.

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq hc

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

But professor… - c.7

Summary: Penny discovers something

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It’s February now and I officially quit school. Never in a million years did I think that I would be good enough for it anyway and when I went back after Christmas break, I realized I wasn’t in the right place at all. Ever since I dropped out, I have been looking into cosmetology school and how to tell my parents about this sudden change.

Walter is getting ready to teach for today and is going to drop me off at the mall, because I need to buy a few things. Since I have yet to move out of the dorm, I need at least some boxes and just some other items.

‘Princess, you look absolutely gorgeous,’ Walter says, patting my butt through my jeans.

I squeal, before turning around, slapping him across his chest. ‘Don’t do that,’ I laugh.

‘Why not?’ He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up. ‘You’ve got a cute butt.’

After I triple checked if I have everything, the two of us leave his loft and walk downstairs towards the garage, his hand securely wrapped around mine. Like usual, he opens the door for me and kisses me the second he got in his truck as well. It’s becoming a thing now and it’s weird if he doesn’t do it.

Walter holds my hand as he drives towards the mall. ‘Princess, how about you and I get you moved in the middle of the night? So I can help you carry some boxes.’

‘I can ask someone to help me,’ I say. ‘Maybe just call someone from one of those services. Please, I don’t want to risk running into someone I might possibly know.’ When I notice he isn’t liking it, I say: ‘Please, Walter, don’t sweat it. I can move out myself.’

‘I know, I know,’ he grumbles. ‘It’s just that I want to help you out.’ He presses a kiss on my hand and leans back in his seat. ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Do you need to tell me that every opportunity you get?’

‘Yes,’ he simply says. ‘Come on, princess, scoot a little closer.’

It’s been a few weeks since he got the truck fixed, so I could sit closer to him. I unbuckle myself, before sliding over to his side. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I close my eyes after I strapped myself into the seatbelt. ‘You’re so needy,’ I chuckle.

‘I’m not needy, I just love you. Need you as close as possible, darling.’

His arm feels heavy on my shoulders and when we’re close to the mall, I say: ‘Do you need anything?’

‘Maybe some snacks, but I’ll leave that up to you.’ He gives me a long kiss, before I get out of the truck.

‘I love you,’ I say.

‘I love you too, princess. Text me when you’re back at the loft, okay?’

‘Will do.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Shopping was nice, until I had to throw up. That never happened to me before. I think in my entire life I have vomited only once, until today. I stare at the stomach contents that are floating in the toilet. I can’t think of eating anything that has made this nauseous I need to puke.

Why would anyone vomit? The only reasons I can imagine is food poisoning, a stomach bug or being pregna—

Oh.

Could it be?

I flush the toilet and with the moving boxes that I have yet to fold into boxes, I walk through the shopping mall to the drugstore. I ask the woman behind the registry if I can have a pregnancy test and she simply nods. I don’t know what I was expecting (maybe the woman first completing a three hour interview before handing me a test, I don’t know), but after I paid for it and hid it in my purse, I walk out of the mall.

What if I’m pregnant? I mean, yes, I did skip a period, but that is not new to me. I mean, I’ve been pretty regular all my life, minus a few times. Normally me skipping a period didn’t make me suspect anything, since I wasn’t having sex, nor was I the next virgin Mary, but now…

Walter and I have been having sex quite a lot. I mean, it’s always with a condom of course, but even those are not one hundred percent effective.

I might be naive from time to time, but I’m not that stupid to unrealistic about the effectiveness of condoms.

The bus ride back to the loft couldn’t be any longer and when I finally arrive at Walter’s place (soon to be ours), I quickly text him I’m home, before hiding into the bathroom. Buying one was weird, peeing on a stick is weirder.

As I wait for the two minutes to pass by, I think about what to do. Would I have a baby at this age? I mean, I’ve always wanted kids and maybe now is a good time? Okay, no, it’s not absolutely ideal (the timing couldn’t have been more off), but… I’m not in school right now and—

Oh no, that’s just me being selfish and only thinking about my situation. I haven’t even thought about Walter yet. We never spoke about having kids, because I don’t think you are supposed to do that this early on in your relationship.

Right?

Oh my goodness, this is too much for me to think about. Let’s just wait until I see what the test says. I mean, there is a possibility I’m not pregnant and just a little bit late with my period and caught a stomach bug. Why think about all sorts of scenarios when there is a chance that it’s not applicable to me.

I grab the test and discover it has two strips. After a quick examination of the box I discover that…

I’m pregnant.

✎ ✎ ✎

Six hours. Six hours have passed by since I took the first test. In that time, I went back to the drugstore, to buy another one and peed on that one as well. They say there is no such thing as a false positive, but I’d rather be too sure.

And that one was also positive.

So naturally I spend my time wisely until Walter came home. I’ve been pacing through the loft, looked online how to tell your partner that you are pregnant and I ate some watermelon.

Walter walks in with a deep frown between his brows, but that disappears when he sees me. ‘Princess,’ he says, ‘you have no idea how much I missed you.’ He sits next to me on the couch and gives me a kiss. The frown appears again when he takes in my expressions. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

He nods. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes, it’s just that… I don’t know. It’s kinda huge.’

He places his arm on the backrest, while his other hand takes mine. ‘Tell me, princess.’

Don’t beat around the bush, just tell him. ‘I’m pregnant, Walter.’

If it were possible, I’d suspect someone pressed on pause, because Walter completely froze. He tries to find some words for it, however nothing seems to leave his lips. I mean, what am I expecting from him? I’m trying to figure out whether or not I should be happy or scared.

‘Oh,’ he finally says. ‘And you’re planning to keep the baby or not?’

I nod. ‘I do and I understand that it’s too soon for us and that you won’t want to stay. I really understand that, Walter. I’m so sorry.’

Walter scoffs and actually looks super offended. ‘I do not understand why you think I wouldn’t stay, because I’m going to be right by your side, every step of the way.’ He squeezes in my hand and says: ‘You will never get rid of me that easily, princess.’

I let out a nervous chuckle, realizing how stupid it was of me to actually think he wouldn’t stay. I mean, we’re talking about Walter here. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘for just assuming. It’s just that my brain is working overtime. I might be a little scared.’

He nods. ‘I understand. It’s quite a lot, but let’s think about one thing first, okay?’ His lips curl up into a smile and says: ‘We’re going to be parents.’

When someone else says it, it’s even more meaningful. My eyes fill with tears as realization hit that I am indeed gonna be a mom and that Walter is staying, thus becoming a dad.

Walter pulls me closer and gives me a kiss on my forehead. ‘Princess, it’s okay.’

‘I know, but it’s so scary. So much is gonna change.’

He nods. ‘Nothing we can’t handle though.’ He pulls me on his lap and gives me another peck, this time on my lips. ‘Now we really need to get you out of that dorm. This weekend I’ll make sure someone is gonna help you with moving and you’re gonna stay right here with me.’

I smile. ‘I can’t wait.’

‘And,’ he says, ‘do you really want to go to cosmetology school now? We can always arrange something when the baby is here.’

‘I kinda want to focus on the pregnancy first, since I have no idea what to expect.’

‘Alright,’ he says, ‘then we’ll wait with that.’ He places his hand on my flat stomach and says: ‘Oh shit, Penny, I’m gonna be a dad.’

I can’t help but squeal when I think about it a while longer. ‘And I’m gonna be a mom.’

✎ ✎ ✎

It’s only obvious that we have to tell my parents. After I had my first scan, I realize that I really shouldn’t push the matter and just tell them, especially because the baby is healthy and I’m out of my first trimester at fifteen weeks of pregnancy. Besides, I also officially live with Walter and those nerves are slowly becoming less and less prevalent.

My bump is minuscule, but that doesn’t stop Walter from continuously placing his hands on it when he can. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, his hands are always on my stomach, but that’s okay. It’s sweet to see the demeanor of the detective change from someone who always has a figurative thunderstorm hanging above his head, to someone with childlike happiness.

We’re driving to Maryland now and we’ve been on the road for a mere forty-five minutes, when I say: ‘I have to pee.’

Walter starts to laugh loudly. ‘Again? Princess, you went three times back at home.’

Home. That shouldn’t make me giggly, but sure does. ‘I know, but I have to go again.’

‘Lucky you there’s a gas station right here.’ He gets off the road and parks his car. ‘Want something to eat, princess?’

‘Some orange juice, chips and chocolate.’

He simply nods and tells me to stay put. As usual, he opens the door for me. He was already very chivalrous when we just started dating, but pregnancy has multiplied it by a hundred. He securely places his hand on the small of my back and like the true detective he is, he checks everything and everyone in the gas station, before he says: ‘I’ll be right here, princess.’

I squeeze his hand, a silent thank you, before walking off to the restrooms to pee. After I washed and dried my hands, I exit the restrooms, to see Walter is already waiting for me, with all the snacks I wanted and even some more.

It’s nice to know that he still loves me a lot, even after we spend so many weeks together.

Once we’re back in the car, I let out a deep sigh.

‘Princess, you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.’

‘Why don’t you sleep?’ he suggests. ‘I’ll let you know once we’re close.’

I groan. ‘No, because that is so boring and I’ve been boring for so many weeks now.’

He scoffs. ‘You’re not boring, you’re pregnant. You’re allowed to be tired, princess and please just catch up on some sleep now.’

I hold his hand in mine, as I close my eyes and drift off to a light sleep. Walter doesn’t need to wake me up, because after an hour or so my eyes flutter open and I smile. ‘We’re almost there?’

‘Maybe an hour?’

I grab some of the snacks and feed Walter, as he continues to watch the road. I once saw how he drove, because we were video calling then. It was fast, hasty and in my opinion not very safe. When he drives with me, he doesn’t ignore the speed limits and is very very safe.

Imagine if there’s a child in the back, I bet he’ll drive just as safe, if not safer.

He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘I’m not gonna lie, but I’m kinda nervous to meet your parents.’

‘You are?’ I ask. I thought nervous wasn’t in his dictionary. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just nerve wracking. Not only have I never met them, but I also got you pregnant. That usually doesn’t do well.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry,’ I say. ‘My parents are very open minded. Besides, my mom and I used to watch Sixteen and Pregnant and she always said that despite not having to worry about that since I lived like a nun back then, she’d love a grandchild. So, I think we’re good. Also, my dad is probably a little scared of you. He is not that tall.’

Walter chuckles. ‘Well, maybe this’ll go well.’

‘It’ll go splendid, Walter,’ I say, ‘really. If my parents see how well you take care of me, then there is nothing to worry about.’ I place my hand on his and whisper: ‘They’ll love you.’

He smiles. ‘Good. Alright, let me get this straight one last time: we met at a coffee place, right?’

‘Correct,’ I chuckle.

The last part of the drive goes by fast and before we get out of the truck, I put on a sweater to hide the little bump. Walter unbuckles himself and his hand slips underneath the thick fabric, placing it on my tiny bump. He leans forward to press a kiss on it and says: ‘I can do this forever. I might have to quit my job, so I can do this whenever I want.’

I roll my eyes. He has been taking this dad thing so serious and while sometimes it’s very cheesy, I love him for it. Really, I couldn’t have asked for a better man to start having a family with. Is it pretty short notice, being only together a little over four months? Yes, of course, but that’s okay. I feel like the two of us can actually handle it. ‘We should go.’

We get out of the car and when we walk up to the door (Walter holding our luggage, since my mom insisted we stayed in the house I grew up in) my parents open the it and mom runs up to me.

‘Oh, honey, there you are!’ She gives me a hug and I hold back a little, so she won’t feel my bump against her body. I give my dad a hug as well and they look both hopeful and a little nervous when they see Walter.

‘Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend Walter. Walter, these are my parents, Lance and CC.’

Walter is polite, a role that fits him so well, yet I barely see it. He is always so sweet and kind to me, so grumpy and annoyed when it comes to my classmates and so neutral when it’s others. Now it changes a bit. He smiles, he shakes my parents’ hands and from the look of their faces, he isn’t over squeezing it (I actually had to tell him that). ‘Nice to meet you,’ Walter says. ‘You have a lovely looking home.’

‘Oh, aren’t you a dear.’ Mom ushers us to come inside and Walter places his hand on my back, as we follow them inside. I give him a little nod, a sign that it is all going well.

And, it actually goes really well. My parents are in love with Walter and he is slowly warming up to them, eventually even cracking some jokes. We talked about how the two of us “met”, what Walter does for a living (currently he is working at the police department in New York and not as professor at NYU) and a little bit about my parents’ work. Of course, the subject school came up once or twice, but I kinda chickened out telling them I actually quit.

I clear my throat and say: ‘I actually have some news.’

Walter finds my hand underneath the table and gives me a reassuring squeeze.

‘What is it, honey?’ mom asks.

I look at Walter, whose eyes say it all: I’m ready when you are. ‘Well,’ I whisper, ‘I… I’m pregnant.’

Oh no, they’re silent. Oh my gosh, how are they going to react? I bet they’re mad. Oh, shit, my dad is clenching his jaw. They are totally mad.

‘Are you serious?’ my mom asks, blinking a few times.

I nod. ‘Fifteen weeks.’

‘Oh my goodness,’ mom says. ‘Honey, that is amazing. I am so happy for you.’ She stands up from the table and walks over to me. I give her a hug and she whispers: ‘You’ll be a fantastic mom.’ She pulls back and squeals something about becoming a grandmother. She places her hand on my stomach. ‘Oh my, a little bump. Honey, this’ll go fantastic. I am sure you and Walter will become magnificent parents. That reminds me, Walter, give me a hug. You’re officially part of the family, now. Congratulations, sweetheart.’

Walter stands up and gives my mom a tight hug. Dad walks up to me and holds my face in his hands. ‘You’re gonna be an amazing mother,’ he says.

‘You think so?’

‘I don’t think so, I know so.’ He gives me a kiss on my forehead and says: ‘Is this also a right moment to tell me you quit school?’

My eyes enlarge. ‘How did you know?’

‘You can maybe fool your mom, but you can never fool me, sweetheart. You know, you focus on your pregnancy now. You can always go back to school.’

I let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully he is pretty cool about me just quitting. We’ll talk about eventually going to cosmetology school a little bit later on. ‘I love you, dad.’

‘I love you too.’

✎ ✎ ✎

That night, Walter and I are in my old room, squeezed in my two person bed (that is a little slimmer than the one back in the loft) and we reminisce about the evening. It went more than splendid, even when my mom forced me to take off my sweater so she could see the bump. She called at least ten friends to tell them she is gonna be a grandmother and that the child will be gorgeous and lovely, though they have yet to be born.

Walter turns to his side so he can look at me and says: ‘Okay, I have a proposition,’ he says, ‘and I want your honest opinion.’

‘Okay.’

‘How about, you and I move to Maryland?’

Is he serious? ‘Really?’

‘Really. I could see how happy your parents were with the pregnancy and maybe… Maybe they’d like it if you would be closer to them. Besides, I can arrange something and work in Maryland. It’s not like I’m bounded to New York. For that matter, I actually really want to leave that place, because if I see that slimy ass Fitzgerald one more time…’

While I start to laugh because of his personal vendetta against Fitzgerald, my hormones are also all over the place, because I bawl my eyes out only a second later.

‘Princess, don’t cry. This is good news.’ He presses kisses on my temple and cheek, kissing my tears away. ‘But I’ll take that as a yes?’

I nod. ‘I would love that, Walter. Thank you.’

#henry cavill #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x penny townsend #asian ofc #penny townsend #but professor

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aching-tummies · 3 years

Note

if i was your partner... I'd take you on a date to the county fair. I know you have a sweet tooth, and I promise to buy you whatever you want. When we get there, we haven't had dinner yet so we get a big meal of hamburgers and hot dogs, and some fried dough and cotton candy for you. I tell you I want to take a lap around the fair to see what rides there are, and get you as many treats as you want. Ice cream, churros, sodas and milkshakes all end up in your belly... 1/?

I’ve never been to a fair/amusement park or anything so when my beloved suggests we go I’m excited. Since I was a child, I’ve always wanted to go to these things because friends that have gone always have such cool stories about the rides or cute ones about laughing and having fun with their dates. Also…the occasional fair food item sounds delicious.

At the same time, I’m wary of the food because I’ve eaten stuff like ice cream, churros, milkshakes, and hot dogs before. Not at a fair setting and definitely not all in the same day. Past experience tells me that these are the kinds of foods that give me a queasy tummy ache individually. The idea of eating them all in the same day has me apprehensive. Absentmindedly, I press my hands to my tummy as though guarding it from the thought of such a nasty ache.

The day of the fair arrives and excitement has given way to nerves and those nerves have gone straight to my stomach. As we get out of the car and approach the fair grounds my stomach clenches and does flips. An empty growl splits the air but peters off into an inaudible, nauseous burble. I haven’t eaten much since you told me about our visit to the fair. The thought of fair-food filled me with dread since I knew we were coming and I guess I subconsciously lost my appetite in preparation…to try to give the fair-food a blank slate as though in hopes it’ll hurt less if it’s just the fair-food bouncing around in my gut. I rub my tummy with both hands, squeezing my eyes shut against the sensations rolling within it. I want to bolt. I want to go home. It’s like my tummy knows exactly where we are going and knows it’s in for something nasty.

I toy with the idea of asking that we just go on rides. I try to formulate the words, to make up a reason why I won’t be eating anything at the fair. Variations of “my tummy’s upset” or “I ate earlier and I’m full” come to mind. The latter wouldn’t be something I could fool you with. We’ve been together the whole day and you know naught but water has passed my lips all day. If my stomach weren’t sickeningly empty, I would definitely have thrown up by now. The anxiety of the impending situation twists in my gut, and I feel like a solid mass is forming inside my hollow gut…an imagined mass that sends urgent “puke” signals to my brain. I feel my stomach muscles convulse and I squeeze my eyes shut as it snarls again.

Your hand comes to my stomach and jolts me out of my thoughts.

“Aww…hungry?” You say as you pat my stomach through my clothes. You heard the hunger part of the growl and you took my hands on my tummy as a sign of a hunger pang. Or so I think.

“Uhm…n-not exac—"

“They sell food in there. Let’s grab some hotdogs before we check out the rides.” You pat your own stomach, triggering a growl that has no hint of nausea in it. “I’m hungry too.”

My stomach burbles as you all but push me forward, walking us to the entrance of the grounds. Each step brings the thought, “dead man (stomach) walking”. I had opted to eat less/not at all in preparation for this day because I didn’t want to come to the grounds with an upset tummy. My own stupid anxiety over what this kind of food does to me foiled that plan. If I had known my stomach would be upset entering the grounds regardless of whether or not I had eaten anything I would have just eaten something rather than endure hunger for so long.

“Uhm…d-darling? Hotdogs…uhm…y-you know what hot dogs do to my stom—”

“Ooh! Chilli-dogs! Yeah, those beat hot-dogs any day. We’re getting some!” It’s like you didn’t hear me. Tears prickle my lashes as I realize you’ve cut off all my attempts at telling you something is wrong. I open my mouth again but the glint in your eye shuts me up.

You know. The way your hand is snaked around my waist and how your palm is pressed up against my tummy is a new clue. The gentle, subtle rubs you’re giving me, that I haven’t noticed until now—you’ve done similar motions before. When I lost a dear family member you made those same motions on the back of my neck and on my shoulder when you put your arm around me. It’s your go to ‘comforting’ move. You know what’s on my mind. You know how upset my tummy is. You know I’m anxious about the impending stomach ache. And I know about your fascination with my stomach; we aren’t just here for the fair.

“Let’s walk and eat. Fair grounds are huge and I don’t know exactly what rides they have this year. Let’s do a lap, or two, and fill our tummies with all the different food as we narrow down which ones we want to go on.”

You’re still rubbing lazy circles on my tummy. Your voice and the gentle rubs slowly bring me out of my own head and the tight vice-like coil of anxiety in my gut unclenches just a little. The anxiety lessens just enough for a hungry growl to squeeze out. You know exactly what rides are offered. You studied the pamphlet thoroughly and I know for a fact you have a ranking order of your favorite rides. You love the fair and are a seasoned fair-goer. The walk is for my benefit. Suggesting two laps and suggesting that we slowly fill our bellies is entirely for the sake of my tummy. Starting at the fair with an already upset tummy wasn’t in the plan. You don’t just want to deal with an anxious tummy or a sickly one…the food and the fair-experience are part of your script for tonight. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. If I let myself throw up it’s all over—that’ll be the end of the night. I don’t want to rob you of your opportunity to enjoy the fair. It only happens once a year. I don’t want to imagine having to deal with an entire year of an anxiety-induced stomach ache—knowing that you’ll try again next year.

“O-Okay…uhm…c-could we just split the food? I-I just want a bite or two of everything.” I pat my tummy. “You know my capacity is garbage.” You grin.

“Sure! One large chili-dog it is. Wanna choose what flavor milkshake we get? Oh, and the churros at one particular truck are to die for—you gotta try ‘em!”

And…we’re off. Your hand slides away from my waist and takes my hand instead as you pull me into the fair. I slide a reassuring hand on my tummy, hidden behind my messenger-bag. I rub my tummy gently, trying to quell the upset.

2/? ... and by the time we're ready to ride a ride, I can hear your tummy grumbling noisily. I ask if you're okay, and you insist, though you look a bit nauseous. We end up on the Tilt-A-Whirl, and afterwards, your stomach is louder than ever. I ask if you're hungry, if maybe that'll help your loud, bloated aching belly, and you say yes. More treats end up in your tummy, until its aching so bad you can barely stand...

A large chili-dog, a sub-par burger, and a churro have disappeared between both our guts and I’m currently polishing off the large choco-banana milkshake we ordered. Sure, you had most of the chili-dog and the burger was because you were still hungry—I’ve let you have the lion’s share of the solid foods. I meant to let you have most of the milkshake too, but you’ve been sneakily finding ways to have it end up in my hands and to my lips.

My stomach is comfortable right now. There’s a barely-there queasiness in it but it’s slight enough to be ignored. It’s quite noisy though, churning away as it tries to break down what’s gone into it. You’ve been rubbing my tummy as we’ve been walking for the last ten minutes or so and I’m sure your rubs are the only reason my stomach is comfortable right now. Without the rubs, a normal fast-food combo has been enough to give me a twisting ache in my gut, enough to get me to cry and dash off to a bathroom to be rid of the mess.

“Oh, hey! Let’s go on that!” You gesture to the roller-coaster we’ve arrived at. I’ve never been on one. “Oh…damn…no drinks allowed on it.”

I raise my eyebrow quizzically as I rattle the empty milkshake cup. You offer a sheepish smile and hold up a full cup of cola you’ve been clutching in your other hand. “Came with the burger. Could’ja help? My tummy’s gettin’ kinda full.” You place a hand on your slightly rounded tummy.

Sure, it’s only cola…but neither of us is in the habit of wasting food. Steeling my nerves, I grab the cola and begin to suck at the straw, taking it down in gulps and thanking the heavens that it’s small as far as beverage containers go.

You pat my grumbling tummy as I finish the cola, forcing a sharp belch to pass my lips. “You didn’t have to chug it, we could have come back.” You coo as you continue to pat and rub my tummy. I groan, realizing my stupidity. My stomach sloshes sickeningly and rumbles violently at the sudden addition.

“Nah. We’ve already done two laps around the grounds. If we’re going to ride anything now’s the time.” A part of me just wants this night to be over. That cola pushed the discomfort meter in my gut higher. There’s a tight pressure inside of me right now and I want to believe it’s just the carbonation from the cola.

We share a car in the roller coaster. I grip the bar. Do not throw up. Do not throw up. Do not throw up. Repeats like a mantra in my head. Just as the coaster starts rolling, you release the bar and put both hands on my gut. You knead into my tummy, forcing burps out as I grip the rail tightly for the both of us. We have seatbelts and all that…the bar is just there for an extra level of safety. You’re experienced, you know we won’t fall even if we aren’t white-knuckling it so you put your hands to a different use. Each loop and sharp turn of the coaster causes your grip on my tummy to tighten. A particularly sharp turn sends your entire form slamming against me and your elbow meets my stomach and has me feeling something wet surge up my esophagus but I fight it down. You’ve managed to get most of the gas out of my tummy before the big loop of the coaster, at which point you offer one last pat to my tummy and turn to face forward properly. My stomach churns as we slow and watch the looming loop seeming to creep up on us. As we crawl up the loop my own hands clutch my tummy and I begin to squeeze, short and small burps burble out of me. You raise an eyebrow but are more fixated on the coaster. I want the gas out. I don’t want the inversion to cause a burp to bring up something else when we’re completely upside-down.

As we climb out of the coaster all that is left in my gut is a dense mass of thick sludge swirling around in a lake of cola. Some of the milk from the shake most definitely curdled in the acid bath of the cola. I let out a few moans as I walk and my hands have not left my tummy since we got off. I cradle my churning gut as I make my way to a miraculously empty bench.

“Babe, you okay?” Concern colors your voice as you skip after me. I need a few minutes for my stomach to re-orient itself. I can feel the thick sludge swimming in my gut and it is not a pleasant feeling. The squeals and whines from my gut betray that it doesn’t like the sensations either.

You’ve disappeared and I’m too absorbed in the activity in my tummy to care. Bathroom break, maybe. I press into my tummy cautiously, wincing at the churning grumble that is pushed forth from it. I can’t help but groan under my breath. My stomach really sick. I feel like it’s a sack of vomit churning violently rather than a stomach at this point.

I hear the crinkle of paper and I open my eyes. Something crisp and golden is shoved into my face as though you are presenting me with a bouquet of flowers.

“Is that?” My eyes widen.

“Yup! A Bloomin’ Onion! I saw a stall selling ‘em while we were on the coaster.” You announce proudly as you plop yourself down next to me.

Eagerly, I reach to tear off a piece of the treat, my nauseous tummy forgotten.

“I thought you’d need something to settle your stomach and maybe absorb some of the mess in there.” You pat my noisily churning tummy. “A-also…you’ve always wanted to try this thing, right? ‘cuz you love onion rings.”

“Mmph.” I give you an affirmative grunt as my mouth is full of the treat. You giggle and tear off some for yourself.

Once the onion has disappeared between the two of us my stomach is feeling moderately better. I’ve eaten most of it. I’ll definitely come to regret putting something so oily down the hatch, but I take your hand and suggest more rides before it has time to bloom into a full-blown sickly ache. I’m resigned to it now. We’ve got precious few minutes before my stomach begins to literally belly-ache about what’s gone into it.

We arrive at your favorite, the Tilt-a-Whirl. Nothing will stop me from letting you enjoy this ride tonight. I hope my stomach gets the memo. As I hear the screams from the ride, I notice someone off to the side of it, hurling into a convenient trash bin. I grimace, willing that not to be me.

“Babe, you sure you’re up for this?” You’re worried. I take your hand as we get in the (thankfully) short line.

“Yeah. You love this ride. It’s fine.” My tummy grumbles deeply, sounding like a dying lawn mower or something.

You slide your hands around my waist, rubbing and patting at the upset vat that is my stomach. Your hands are magic. By the time we’re at the front of the line my stomach is still churning, and aching, but not as violently as it was before. There’s a very present ache in my guts but it’s just under the threshold between a full-blown stomach ache and something that could just be classified as discomfort.

The seatbelt is tight against my tummy and I have doubts, almost caving and telling the staff I’ve changed my mind and to let me off before the ride has even begun. As the cup spins the centrifugal force causes the belt to cut into my stomach jostling it every which way. I grow steadily more and more nauseous as the ride goes on. I don’t have your miracle hands on my tummy and that thought is enough to make me want to cry. Seeking some escapism, I let my mind wander as I try to focus on anything but the violent churning in my tummy. This ride has accomplished in thirty seconds what it took your hands thirty minutes to fix.

I imagine how this ride looks from above. It must look pretty cool—my thoughts are interrupted by a new one: how this ride looks from above is how my stomach feels right now. Uneven, unpredictable churning with little bits seeming to churn within the mess. Yeah, the inventor of this thing must have seen some cruel irony in fabricating a ride that was an external representation of what it was causing internally.

When the ride ends I practically stumble into you. You laugh, dizzy yourself, and we move together. I’m leaning on you, whimpering and clutching at my distressed tummy. I can feel it. I want to throw up. The vomit signals are very strong but it feels like one of the chunks of curdled whatever has blocked the path to my esophagus. My stomach convulses and I whine as it grumbles angrily.

Your hand comes to my tummy. “Aww…baby…you hungry? The most of a solid thing you’ve eaten today has been that onion. Maybe something more solid in your tummy will calm it down?”

I can no longer tell if you’re sticking to your kink-script or if you genuinely believe my sickly tummy is in need of some proper sustenance. My stomach feels too awful to care so I let you lead me by the hand wherever it is you want us to go.

I don’t protest when something is shoved into my hands. You tell me to eat and I mechanically bring it to my mouth and take bites. I don’t even know what it is you’re making me eat, but many different treats disappear into my tummy. I think there was a burrito of some sort at one point. At least two different churros have made an appearance too. A slice of pizza, dripping with grease, is definitely one of the items if the layer of grease floating in my gut is any indication.

“Ergh…ugh…” I curl, bringing my knees up and sandwiching my arms over my belly. You led me to a sort of hidden bench. We’re kind of behind one of the tents for some carnival game and there’s tree-coverage around us. You wanted some privacy while you fed me and I’m grateful for it because I’m certain my stomach is about to spill out of my mouth and I do not want an audience. Upset doesn’t even begin to cover how bad it feels. I feel like I’ve swallowed lava and the molten mass is burning away my digestive organs. The lingering ‘discomfort’ of an ache threatening to bloom finally explodes and I curl up tightly, the added pressure not doing any favors for my poor, achy tummy. “Ugh…urp…n-no more…please? Ugh…babe…it hurts. My tummy hurts so, so much…” My stomach protests just vocally as I do.

I end up flopping over onto my side on the bench, knees still curled up to press my arms into my sickly belly. You guide me to make sure my head is on your lap. You try to get me to uncurl, to grant you access to my tummy, but my limbs refuse to budge so you settle on rubbing my side and back.

“Aww…baby…maybe a walk would settle your tummy?” Your voice is sickly sweet and I groan as it goes straight to my stomach, feeling like I just guzzled another cola.

“Umph…nuh-uh—nope. Not gunna.” I curl up, my tears soaking into the fabric on your lap as I whimper a little. I try to bring up a burp, desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure in my gut. Nothing comes up. I know there’s some in there—there has to be—but each time I clench my abdomen it feels like there’s something sickly blocking the path of the gas. If I were to really push it I could maybe clear the blockage…but I’d almost definitely end up vomiting all over your lap.

“Babe…how about that walk?” You suggest again and this time I glare at you from your lap. I glare at you and uncurl just a little. You can see the pain lancing through my eyes for a split second. I watch as your gaze travels to my gut and then I jab at it with a hand. I bite back the groan of pain so that you can hear the resulting rumble. The turbulent sounds from the jab continue for a few moments even as I curl up again.

“A walk? You kiddin’ me? My tummy hurts, babe. Hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it. I can’t even stand up straight ‘cuz my tummy is imploding; and you want me to walk?!”

I’m being curt with you. I know I am and I regret it even as the words spill from my mouth. It’s the stomach ache. I haven’t had such a nasty one in a very long time.

3/3 I feel terribly you're not feeling so well, and offer to help you to the car. You lean on me heavily, and I rub your aching belly as we make our way back to the car. I have to help you in, and the seatbelt barely fits over your round tummy. I rub it as we drive home, and carry you into our house where I'll nurse your tummy back to health... or maybe give you more snacks ;)

“Oh, baby…I’m sorry.” You’re genuinely sorry and that makes me feel even worse about snapping at you. I pull a hand out from its position on my tummy, reaching over to brush against your face, to apologize in some way.

A sharp cramp shoots through my unhappy tummy and I let out an exclamation of pain. It felt like I got punched, from the inside. I whimper and close my eyes, breaths labored as I clutch at my tummy again. My stomach convulses violently and you can tell that I’m trying very hard both to vomit and to keep it in me. The struggle exhausts me and it breaks your heart to see it go down.

The fit dies down after a while and I eventually lie still on your lap. My stomach continues to churn within me and you can hear the sickly burbling. You’ve taken to carding a hand through my hair and using your other hand to rub at whatever you can reach—arm, side, back. The shooting cramps die down somewhat and I manage to uncurl. I find your hand and guide it to my stomach and you rub it gently. I’m still biting back grunts with each breath but you can tell that your massage is slowly doing something for my sickly tummy.

“Do you think you can get to the car? I think we’re done here.”

I whimper, shaking my head and guiding your hand back to my tummy. “Not yet. Ugh…please?” I look at you, silently begging for more rubs. “If I get up now I’m gonna hurl.” You continue rubbing my tummy and we continue in our positions for a while.

My stomach is fairly distended. I usually don’t eat much in a single day and you managed to cram a whole lot of stuff I usually wouldn’t touch into me today. Sugar, fried foods, salt, milkshakes. This is stuff I only allow myself to indulge in a couple of times a year…and only one at a time, usually. Like…before meeting you I was the type to see a can of cola as a treat. That was my dessert quota for the day or week. After we got together the occasional scoop of ice-cream became another dessert option—but always only one scoop. This is our first time at the fair as a couple and you really let me have it. You gave me the ‘full’ experience in more ways than one and my tummy is suffering for it.

“Urp…ugh…nachos? When did I eat nachos?” You laugh at my observation, a sign that I’m doing a bit better.

“I think it was between the second burrito and the banana split.” You inform me as I sit up.

“Second? Banana…split?” I’m surprised. I know I was out of it when you were feeding me, too caught up in the agony swirling in my tummy, but I didn’t think I was that out of it. “Wait…when was the pizza?” You laugh at my dumbfounded expression.

“I only gave you a few bites of the banana split ‘cuz I wanted it…and ‘cuz it looked like you were going to be sick at that point. You ate a whole slice of that pizza before the ice-cream.” My stomach burbles as it’s reminded and I put a hand on it.

“I don’t think that qualified as pizza. It feels like it was grease with a side of dough and cheese.” I groan, patting my tummy gently and rubbing up and down slightly. I still feel sick but the crippling ache has subsided…for now.

I take your hand and get up off the bench. You’re up immediately and drag one of my arms over to rest around your shoulders. We stumble our way toward the exit with your hands resting on my waist. My other hand on my belly is more to support the extra weight while yours provide some much-needed rubs. It’s a team effort to get to the car in my state.

You help me into the passenger seat as I moan. The cramps are building in intensity. You fasten my seatbelt and I almost push you off when you put too much pressure leaning over me to get the thing buckled. Now that I am sitting up my belly is really prominently distended. As you back up I immediately recline the seat, giving my belly some much needed room.

“Do not throw up in the car.” You admonish.

“Urgh…urp…ulp…ugh…no promises.” I whimper. You close the door and the impact jostles my belly. I clutch at it with a groan, swallowing back something thick and wet.

It’s a long drive back home. I’m reclined as far as the seat will go. You have one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing absentmindedly over the crest of my tummy when it’s not needed to steer or shift gears or whatever.

A part of you feels horrible for what we have done tonight. While both of us are into tummies, this is the first time we’ve ever done something like this. We’ve done some minor stuffings before. We’ve done other things in the realm of tummy kink before. This is a first where you stuffed me with foods that would normally cause me great distress all on their own and you decided to cram them all into me in the span of six hours.

I’m lost to the pain as we pull up to our place. I’m in the same incoherent state I was in when you fed me all those things I didn’t register. Gently, you unbuckle the seatbelt, guiding it home so that it doesn’t have a chance to upset my belly further. I groan and nearly lose my gorge as you slide your arms under my back and my knees and lift me out of the car with a massive heave.

The vertigo goes right to my tummy and I’m a groaning mess as you whisper reassurances at me. We’re almost home. Don’t throw up on you. Etc.

You set me on the couch. The bedroom is too far a walk and you don’t want to risk dropping me. The extra weight of all that indigestion is more than you anticipated.

I can’t move. My tummy is pinning me down and the threat of vomiting is extreme. I feel like a thermometer or something with the sludge going up and down my esophagus.

You set a bin within reach of me before disappearing to the kitchen. I whimper, wishing I could call out. I need your hands on my belly. I feel so sick.

I hear clattering in the kitchen. The tell-tale signs of something being microwaved. I hope it’s a heat pack or something even if the added pressure of it is sure to make me vomit. You return with a plate of pizza bites and my stomach pulls a move where it feels like it’s trying to drop out of me and run. I can’t move. I’m too full, too sick, and in too much pain. I only hope you have a night of rubs planned and that you’ve got a hair-tie somewhere ‘cuz there is no way this night ends without me throwing up.

#AT Asks #Tummy RP #bloated belly #Tummy ache kink #Stuffing #tummy stuffing

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apathycares · 3 years

Text

Scared and Alone: Part 2

Hello! This is the long awaited continuation of Bakugou’s mom taking in a mute and homeless teen ask (here!). I’m pretty sure y’all forgot about it considering I wrote it two years ago, but uh...actually I’m sorry bye.

※ Warnings: Swearing (Bakugou family lol)

※ Characters: Short appearances from the Bakugou family, a lil implied Bakugou x Reader

He still hates you

You were still living in his house, and his parents were still adamant on you staying - the Bakugous even bought you a little white board so you could communicate with them

Precluding him, of course

For some reason, he was always expressing his anger at the situation. Katsuki keeps telling his parents you should be thrown out before they get sued by your folks, demands to know where you came from and why you couldn’t talk.

You’d run away when he starts his usual bombarding

He’d chase you

His mom would destroy him

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to be around him. On the contrary, you didn’t feel too happy about being a burden on them, but the feeling was made especially worse when you couldn’t be in peace with their only son

You tried though, you really did.

As soon as he’d walk in, you’d light up and start scribbling on your board, wanting to welcome him home, but he’d simply kick off his shoes and barrel past you.

Katsuki’s first stop would be the kitchen, and as he’s figuring out what to drink, seemingly ignoring your presence when you’d squeeze under him and fill up a glass with ice, up until you’d hold it towards him with a smile. For a moment, you thought you’d finally cracked him when he put his arms around you. You grinned happily, wrapping your arms around him back, being mindful of the glass, before he started crushing you.

A short tussle later, you’re on the other side of the kitchen island, panting and glaring at him. What the hell was his problem?! You angrily flipped the board towards him with a sneer, blinking when he merely grinned and stole your glass of ice.

“Hmph, that’ll teach ya. Stay out of my way, muzzle.”

Muzzle?! He read after you scribbled some more words. Well jokes on you, I like crushing hugs :p

Katsuki lunged for you over the island, screaming profanities as you barely dodged his crackling hands and bolted out the kitchen, hot on your trail. He narrowed his eyes when you skipped over the couch in the living room, and made it on the other side of the long dinner table, matching his position so he couldn’t get you, but just as he put a foot on the table, and you backed away to run past it and back into the kitchen, his mother’s shriek hit their ears.

“What the hell are you doin’ on my table, Katsuki?!”

You really tried.

This game of cat and mouse lasted for weeks, with him getting more and more handsy with you and you getting more and more bold with your words

It seemed like no matter what you tried, no matter how much you tried to make this easy for the both of you, he’d either ignore you or choose violence

At this point, you’d realized there was no point trying to make friends with him, so you just resigned to returning what he dished out to you, or plain old ignoring him back - two can play this game. His family’s approval would just have to do.

But Bakugou wasn’t having that either

You’re just chilling on the couch after helping Mitsuki with the laundry, the TV playing a plague of a drama that you watched when nothing good was on the other channels, barely glancing at Katsuki who took it upon himself to walk right in front of the TV as he made his way to his room. You were a little peeved, knowing he did that on purpose, but you refused to give him any attention. He kicked your shin as he walked past, his lips quirking when you shoot him a heated glare before tearing the eye contact between you and settling on the TV again. You don’t notice it, but he turned behind the couch, vacantly watching your show for a moment, before tucking his manga under the arm that held his drink and dropping his now free hand onto your head. You whined and clawed at his hand as he pushed you lower and lower by the head, before ruffling it and walking off. And just as he planned, you padded after him.

“What.” He gruffed as you blocked the door to his room, face as impassive as your own. You grabbed his drink, chugged it halfway, and then delicately shoved it into his hand before walking off. You heard a mock, “Ohhhh~! What a rebel!”, followed by a muffled chuckle and a door closing, pulling a little smile from you.

Wait, no! You pushed the smile away, frowning forcibly as you went down the stairs. He wasn’t about to get an iota of friendliness from you ever again!

His father walked in just as you made a disgusted face, before both of you stared horrified at each other.

I’m okay! Promise - you scribbled frantically.

Besides his incessant teasing, you remained as unmoving as a mountain, doing what was needed of you and meeting his advances in stride

He eventually stopped telling his parents to send you away, and he started to spend more time at UA on the weekends instead of at home

As much as you didn’t like it, you kind of started missing his looming presence. You thought you were going crazy, but then dismissed it as human nature searching for drama all the time

Or something

After skipping out on coming home two weekends in a row, his mother bothered him enough to come home the next

You carried your day as you would, with a contemplative Bakugou watching you

It got so bad, the way he was lowkey following you around all of a sudden, so you decided to confront him

You randomly turned away from the running microwave, biting your tongue to hold back a giggle when Bakugou quickly pushed himself off the island and stuffed his head into the fridge, pretending to search for something. Pretending, because he stood there before the whole time you were unwrapping your food and setting the microwave.

Bakugou blinked when he turned around and found you right behind him, smiling as you swayed on your heels, before showing him your board. Welcome home! Do you wanna share the food? he read, before narrowing his eyes at you. “I’ve been here for half a day, are you dense?”

Yeah, and?

“What’s with the attitude?!” He seethed, an inch away from your face, before he caught himself and backed off. Rubbing his nape, he stared at the eggs as he mumbled, “What’ve ya been up to?” After a beat of uncontrollable silence, he remembered he had to face you to see what you said, but when he does, his crimson eyes widen when he found you simply staring at him with sparkling eyes and a quivering lip, before you curiously started hitting him with your board.

“HEY- WHAT THE FUCK??” Bakugou grabbed your board mid-air after three and a half hits and took it away, pulling your cheek with one hand with an angry pout and then pausing. “So? What did you do today?” He stared awkwardly at you for a beat, before holding out your board back to you so you could tell him, but to his irritation, you gasped and took a step back. “What’s wrong with you today muzzle?”

You grabbed your board, erasing your words six times before you nervously flipped it towards him.

You didn’t kill me after I assaulted you - does this mean we’re friends now?!

Bakugou chased you out of the kitchen, his cheeks flushing deeper and deeper as he heard your disgustingly cute giggles when you disappeared past a corner

It took some time, but you think he’d accepted you

Mostly - he had a funny way with consistency you see. You couldn’t really tell with him.

But you knew one thing: he was comfortable with you now

And how were you so sure? You plopped on his lap about eighteen times after he pushed you off, and on the nineteenth, he just grumbled and left you there! Progress, amiright?

“You probably think you won,” Katsuki’s gruff voice whispered hotly against your ear, eliciting an involuntary shiver from you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush on his chest. He chuckled as he nuzzled onto your neck, feeling you relaxing against him before he continued, “and I’ll admit, you’ve got me a little confused sometimes myself, but...”

But...? You thought, your heart racing in your chest.

“I guess I’ll take you seriously now.” He declared, sliding his hands from your waist to clasp around your stomach. “Game on.”

Bakugou started crushing you.

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lihikainanea · 3 years

Note

i’m shy and get embarrassed easily, so i have NEVER SAID WHAT IVE WANTED but i can’t hold back anymore, I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT. actually, it’s not a want, it’s a need.

i need a really sub tiger (whimpering, spaced out look, needy, sucking on his fingers, etc) and daddy bill. sweet nani. TIGER call him daddy. i need big protector and provider vibes from bill.

also, i’ve read every single one of your posts ATLEAST 15 times. this page right here, feels like a safe space.

much love

ohhhhhhhh thank you bb! I love messages like this <3 I'm glad you submitted an ask, that's a big step--I'm proud of you, boo. This space is open and safe for everyone, it's all I've ever wanted to create, so to hear you say it--to know that you felt comfortable submitting an ask--bubs, that makes me so happy <3

I'm feelin soff and subby tiger these days. Not only because of this deadly heatwave that has been sweeping the entire fucking continent, not only because work has been hell on earth, not only because I'm finally on vacation next week after not taking time off for a year and I feel like I'm crawling towards the finish line, bruised and battered, on all fours pleading for mercy.

Oh wait, that's exactly why I'm feeling soff and subby tiger these days, so small and where she can just disappear into her bubble of safety and just know that she'll be taken care of.

If you’ll allow me to self-project for awhile, as I’m wont to do rather frequently--maybe tiger has had to be Boss Bitch for awhile. She’s not having a hard time at work--no no, quite the opposite actually. She’s killing it. Stepping up when she has to, working long hours. Maybe her boss quit all of a sudden (hello, self-projection again!) and tiger is just stepping in and getting shit done. And ike a Queen, that ‘tude is bleeding into other aspects of life. Bill has a wonky shelf that needs fixing and while he’s usually quick to fix those things, it’s lagging and tiger just thinks--fuck it, and fuck you too. Bill comes home and she’s power drilling the thing back in place. Changing the light bulbs. Replacing the battery in her smoke alarm. Doing all the groceries. Cooking. Working late into the night. Picking up his dry cleaning. Her friend is going through a bad break up--tiger is there, packing her shit up with her, finding her a new apartment.

Tiger can sometimes be a bit of a procrastinator--which Bill likes, because then he gets to step in and do things for her and he loves the smile she gives him when he does that--but lately? Bill can’t get there fast enough. Tiger is handling it all, knocking it out of the park, and making it look easy.

The problem is she also kind of works herself into a tizzy--because tiger doesn’t like having too much control. She can absolutely do everything herself, but part of what she enjoys so much in her dynamic with Bill is that she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to be in control, or have all the power. She can give that to him, and she can just float in that place free from all burdens and responsibility and know that she’ll be taken care of. There’s an immense power in relinquishing control. And like everything, tiger swings violently from one extreme to the other--she has all of the control, she’s handling shit, she’s handling shit like a boss--until she gets real small, because she doesn’t WANT to handle this much, she doesn’t want to be the boss bitch anymore, she needs a balance where she can be ballsy and courageous in her professional life but that balance comes from being able to be subby with Bill, being able to be put on her knees and be his good girl.

Yin and yang.

And Bill senses it. He probably knows by the crazy twitch in her eye, her subtle irritability, the way a problem no sooner arises that tiger is throwing some power tool, some 7-step coaching programme, some advice from years of therapy--just something at it. Bill barely has time to mention that something in the house needs fixing, let alone fix it himself--because tiger is all over it and then some.

Bill knows the pendulum is swinging just a leeeeeeeetle too far one way.

And maybe the next day when tiger gets in from work--she has a list of shit she needs to get done tonight, and she’s still tapping away more on her phone: bake brownies for a work potluck, fix the chain on the toilet, scrub the bath tub, build the IKEA shoe cabinet she bought, give Bill head because it’s been awhile, put the final tweaks on a presentation. And her nose is in her phone when she walks in the door, so she doesn’t see Bill standing there in the hallway--doesn’t see the way he has his arms crossed, the authoritative set to his jaw, his pinched eyebrows.

“Hiiiiiii,” she calls out blindly down the hallway as she toes off her shoes, drops her purse on the floor.

Bill doesn’t respond. Her eyes are still on her phone, her thumbs going a mile a minute.

“Did you get the drill bits I need?” she’s still yelling because she hasn’t seen him yet, “That fucking IKEA cabinet Allan key bullshit won’t--oof.”

She walks right into his chest, stumbling back a step or two as she startles. And then she notices--notices how tall he’s standing, notices the set in his eyes, his clenched jaw. His crossed arms.

“Hi,” he says simply, lowly.

“Hi,” she stammers, “I uh, didn’t see you there.”

“I know,” he says--and then he reaches out, takes her phone from her hands. He puts it in his back pocket and crosses his arms again.

“On your knees,” he says.

“Why?” she mumbles it before she can stop, and it’s just automatic when she’s been like this--question everything, oppose everything, demand answers. But Bill just cocks his eyebrow, bends a little at the waist and gets his face in close to hers.

“You don’t get to ask questions tonight,” he whispers, and it’s soft but deliciously menacing and threatening. Tiger bites her lip, and she’s so mesmerized by him, already so turned on, that she’s rooted to the spot and she doesn’t move.

“Tiger,” he says harshly, “I won’t repeat myself.”

“Oh,” she snaps to her senses, shaking the fog from her brain. She drops to her knees. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Do you like all of this, tiger?” he weaves a hand in her hair, gently tugging it so her eyes are on him, “All of this control? All of this power?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try again,” he says, “All of this responsibility, fighting everybody’s battles. Taking care of everyone else--but who is taking care of you, hmm? Who’s taking care of my sweet girl?”

And her walls are starting to come down, that pendulum is starting to swing back ever so slowly in the natural direction.

“I am,” her voice cracks, and she says it so lowly he barely heard it.

“What’s that?”

“I am,” she says again, just a twinge louder but even then it’s barely a whisper.

“You are,” he says, “Just handling everything like a big girl. And do you like that? Not letting me take care of you? Not needing me?”

“No,” she admits.

“And is that part of our deal?”

“No,” she says again, leaning forward and bunching his pant leg in her fist. She just wants to touch him, wants to be close to him, and Bill would never stop her from doing so in moments like these. He presses his thumb to her lips, easing it inside. She sighs and her shoulders sag with relief.

“Then I think we need to fix that, don’t we?” he asks, “I miss my sweet girl.”

She whimpers around his thumb, inching on her knees closer to him and resting her forehead on his thigh.

“Do you want me to fix it sweet girl?” he murmurs, “Get you back right again?”

She nods, but he snaps his fingers and he swears that she moaned a little.

“Yes,” she says immediately, “Please, Bill.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” he says, and he withdraws his thumb from her mouth, closing his hands around her shoulders and lifting her so she’s standing in front of him, “I think I need to hear that a little more.”

She whines, but he slams his lips to hers. He kisses the hell out of her, all tongues and teeth, pulling away as she gasps for breath.

“If you want me to fix it kid,” he purrs, “Then you’re going to beg for it.”

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #sub tiger

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yutahoes · 3 years

Text

Mark

disclaimer : This isn’t about Mark Lee. 😂

genre : fluff, suggestive, leaning towards smut

word count : 2.1k words

summary : Love should always be in equilibrium but Yuta would always break that state. It’s now your turn to balance your relationship.

characters : soccer jock! boyfriend! Yuta x science major! girlfriend! Reader

taglist : @ailoveyuta @aiforyuu @yutazen01 @cosmiclatte28 @2-3-t-i

a/n : This is supposed to be a smut fic but two days of me getting sick had changed the storyline. 😂 This can be the second part of Help, if you wanted to call it that.

"Love," Yuta whined that made you roll your eyes. You didn't bother looking at him as you were still engrossed with mixing the liquids you needed for your little experiment. "Pay attention to me."

"I'm busy." You said immediately, watching as to how the liquid turned into green smoke that made you groan. "You have practice today, right?"

He shook his head with a pout, sitting on the stool in front of you. "What are you doing?"

"It's for my professor's gender reveal." You claimed as you put another liquid on the beaker. "I have to make blue and pink smoke."

He giggled. "There's something like that? And why are you in charge of making it?"

You shrugged then focused on chemical formulas scribbled on your paper, checking what you did wrong that the smoke turned green. You adjusted your eyeglass to properly see the small letters then bit your pencil as you fix your loose ponytail. You heard Yuta clear his throat that made you look curiously at him. "Are you sick?" You asked when you removed the pencil from your mouth, circling the chemical formula that seemed wrong. "You look red."

He smiled then shook his head. "Babe?" You hummed as an answer, adding solvent to the beaker. "Can you make babies in the lab?" You stopped what you were doing and stared at him.

"Like test tube babies?" You asked and he smirked. "It's possible but that takes time. Besides, it's not like they're really formed in the test tube. They're…"

But he stood up to walk where you are, cupping your cheeks then gave you a quick kiss on your lips. "God, you are so adorable." His lips were on you again, sucking on your bottom lip that made you release a throaty sound. He let go of the kiss immediately that made you pout. You wanted more. "I think I'll just go to practice today." He said with a smile then kissed your forehead. "Message me if you're going home."

Before you can say anything, he left the laboratory carrying his bag and jacket. And you thought you're going home together. What exactly happened to Yuta?

-- It's been weeks. The gender party is already done and you have some week off from your exams yet you never had any time with Yuta. It's either he's busy with soccer practice or his other after club activities. Whenever you would meet for lunch, he would just give you a kiss on your forehead and return to his teammates. Even your friends would often ask if you broke up with Yuta.

Then it hit you like a brick on the head when you had Physics class. The concept of equilibrium. Relationships should be balanced, it should be in an equilibrium state. If one exerts more force than the other, the equilibrium will break. If one person exerts more effort than the other, the relationship will break. And you don't want that. You want to maintain the equilibrium. You need to exert effort in this relationship, the same as Yuta.

You were naturally shy and a little slow in the uptake but you weren't that innocent as he thought. You know things, you're a science major, you're just too shy. A trait that made you so annoyed. But you knew you had to do this. You have to shed this innocent girl drama and show your boyfriend how much you want him.

Your hands were shaking as you put on the pink blouse you picked for tonight then smoothed out the white tennis skirt you wore. You're going to do this. Not just for Yuta but for yourself. You need to do this.

You were shaking in nervousness while standing outside the door of his apartment, debating if you want to continue this or not. God, this is embarrassing. "Y/N?" Yuta called that startled you. He's not home? "What are you doing here?"

"I visited a friend in the area so I dropped by to see you." He took his keys and opened the door, letting you inside. "Did you come from practice?" He nodded, placing his keys on the table. He told you to sit down, even asking if you wanted some water then disappeared to the kitchen.

You've been here a couple of times already but today is extremely nerve-wracking. "I was about to pass by your dorm. I'm glad I went home first." He said while putting the glass of water on the table in front of you.

"My dorm?" You asked and he nodded, sitting next to you. "I should've messaged you. I'm sorry for intruding." But he chuckled then shook his head, claiming that he missed you. "Were you avoiding me?"

"Yes." He answered that surprised you, making you wide-eyed. He leaned closer, his arms on the headrest of the sofa caging you in. "I am avoiding you." Heck, you might break up first before getting a taste of Yuta.

Your gaze fell down to stare at your twiddling thumbs, throat parched at the sudden confession. This isn't the scenario you had in mind when you were imagining what will happen today. "Oh." You managed to say, careful not to choke on your words. You kept on telling yourself to don't cry. "So you really don't want me anymore." You don't even know where that came from. It just feels logical. The equilibrium is indeed breaking.

"What?" He asked while chuckling, sliding close to you. "It's the opposite actually." You stared at him, your face centimeters apart. His lips were hovering above yours as he muttered the words, "I want you so fucking bad."

His soft lips touched yours, his lingering smell hitting your senses. Your heart pounding as the blood rose to your cheeks. His kisses were gentle, a simple reminder that he indeed wants you. Yuta licked your bottom lips before pulling out to let you breathe. "Your friend…" He whispered, still not moving from his position that you can feel his hot breath against your swollen lips. "Is it a guy or a girl?"

You stared at him in surprise that made him laugh. His lips found your jaw as your hands held on his shoulder. "You're so pretty dressed up like this. If it's a girl, it's fine." He said in between butterfly kisses. "If it's a guy, then I might do something we might both regret."

His hand caressed your thigh, the other held your waist lightly pushing you to the couch. You wanted him. You crave for him. The equilibrium finally tipping on one side, balancing the other. "A guy." You whispered that made him smirk.

The gentle hands turned rough in a snap. He reached the hem of your underwear, humming as he licked the side of your jaw. "You should stop me, love." He warned then sucked on a skin that will surely show tomorrow.

You moaned against his ear. Why should you stop when the pleasure is so great? "I want you." His eyes turned dark then roughly kissed your lips, taking you to another level of pleasure. His hand that was resting on your waist, went north to cup your breast and you moaned. He took it as a sign to slip his tongue in your mouth.

The pounding of your heart doesn't stop as you felt his lips on sensitive parts of your skin. You wanted this. His touch was so gentle, taking his time to explore your body with his hands, with his lips. "God, you're so hot."

"Blood is rushing to my system, that's why my body is feeling warm." He chuckled while opening the buttons of your blouse. The cool air hit you immediately which was later on replaced by the warmth of his lips. He placed a soft kiss between your breasts, leaving a small mark that made you heave. Yuta licked his lip, staring at you. "Yuta, stop. It's embarrassing."

You tried to cover your face with your hand but he just chuckled, trying to pry your hands away. "You're blushing. So adorable." He sat up then started buttoning your blouse that made you surprised. "I appreciate you doing this for me, love, but you don't have to push yourself too far." He gave a quick peck on your lips. "We'll do it at the right time, with candles and flower petals."

You rolled your eyes. That's too cliché. "For now, just let me have these indecent thoughts about you." You only smiled. Yuta had always given you so much in this relationship. "I love you, Y/N." he whispered, which made you repeat the same three words. "Let's just wait until our wedding night. I promise to make everything special."

"Our wedding night?" He nodded. "Are you sure we're getting married?"

"Is this a religion versus science thing?" You shook your head. It's just that, why is Yuta so sure about you and him getting married? "I wouldn't get married unless it's you." He chuckled. "The fate of the Nakamoto bloodline depends on you now." You had to laugh at that. Yuta and his words.

"Sorry that I had to avoid you. The smallest things you do turns me on. Fuck, I have to prevent seeing you in a lab coat. It might just kill me." You had to giggle at that. "But I'll wait. Until the day you'll become my Mrs. Nakamoto."

He gently kissed you once again, lips lingering on yours that made you yearn for more. "Can you just stay the night? I'll behave myself."

You giggled. "Good boy." You placed a kiss on his forehead noticing his cheeks turning red. He's blushing.

When Yuta woke up that morning, you're already gone and that made him annoyed. He should have walked you to your dorm that morning. Why does he have to stay late at night just to stare at your sleeping face? Another image he added to the things that turned him on.

"Did Y/N attend class today?" He asked your friend which he bumped into in the hallway. It's almost lunchtime but he never saw you even once that weirded him out.

Your friend chuckled at that even claiming that you obviously came from his place. "You're like a married couple already." She said while shaking her head that left Yuta confused. What is that?

"Yah Nakamoto!" One of his teammates shouted across the hall. "Your girlfriend is so cute. Are you marrying her?" What's with all these people and marriage? What exactly happened to you?

He smiled seeing you in the cafeteria eating lunch with your friends. So that's what the hype is about. The big letters spelled Nakamoto was written on the back of the shirt you’re wearing. You greeted him when he approached your table, sliding to the side to let him sit beside you. "You're wearing my jersey."

"Well, I don't want to go to school wearing that pink blouse. It's too feminine." You explained that made him laugh. "So I borrowed one of your clothes. Sorry."

He shook his head, smiling widely. "It looks good on you. You should wear this often." You nodded as he ruffled your hair.

"God, you two. Get a room!"

"You just like his surname marked on you."

You giggled. "I have to be used to it. The fate of the Nakamoto bloodline depends on me." Your friends stare at you in question and Yuta laughed wholeheartedly. "Do you have practice later?" You asked and he shook his head asking why. "Can you help me at the lab later?"

"Sure. What is it?"

Before your friend would tell the latest experiment you're doing, you leaned in to whisper something in Yuta's ear. "I need your help on how to make babies in the lab. You'll be a good boy and help me right?" He blushed immediately, face turning so red like a tomato that made your friends amused.

Yuta said goodbye to your friends, covering his mouth with the back of his hands as if he's on fire. You giggled when they turned to you, curious. "I told you Yuta blushes easily."

"We just need to find out what his allergies are to connect it to our observation."

You shook your head. There's only one thing Yuta is allergic to. You in a white lab coat.

#Yuta #yuta nakamoto #yuta nakamoto fluff #yuta nakamoto imagine #yuta nakamoto scenarios #yuta fluff #nakamoto yuta fluff #yuta imagines #yuta imagine #yuta scenarios #yuta scenario #yuta x reader #nct 127 drabbles #nct drabbles

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babiesdreams · 3 years

Text

Vampire Jaemin- Requested by honey <3

That smell +18 Na jaemin

Warnings: Mentions of blood, suicidal thoughts and angsty stuff in general. [If you suffer/ are going through any of the described scenarios, pls get help. If you need to talk to someone, you can trust this blog as your safe place] Unprotected sex, overstimulation, sexy jaemin.

This decision is not something that simply came out to you like a sudden thought. You’ve been wanting this for your whole life. The simple thought of disappearing, stop the noisy daily life you were forced on living... it was the only thing that made you happy.

Thinking about the silent and peaceful life you were about to get into, it was the only thing that could calm you down. Your fingers grabbed the knife placed on table next to the bathtub. Your hand hesitated for a second, but then it held the knife tighter putting the pointy tip over your wrist, applying enough pressure to cut the flesh slowly, leaving a messy blood lake behind it.

It hurted more than what you expected, making you scream loudly as the blood kept coming out, uncontrollably. Your hand felt weak, letting the knife drown on the full bathtub. Tears started falling down your cheeks as the blood slowly painted the clear water.

The smell of the blood was so pure, you had never smelled anything like that. A sudden noise kept you awake, even if your head felt dizzy. A pale looking boy entered the room, looking likke he’s been hiding all along. You look at him confused, not enterily sure if he was real or part of your imagination. Could a human being be so perfect?.

“What did you do?” He asks anxiously. His nose kept on making sounds as he smelled the weird bloody scent. “Who are y-?” You couldn’t really manage to finish the sentence as you lost conciousness inmediately. The boy riped his shirt, putting it over his nose, avoiding the scent. His arms grabbed your, now heavy body, looking at the cut you made on your wrist. His eyes rolled into his head at the view of that much blood.

“Calm down Jaemin” He whispered to himself. His teeth bit your skin, letting more blood to come out of your neck. He sucked all the blood in, drinking every little drop as you weirdly became more and more conscious. “Get off” You whispered trying your best to push him away, though your weak arms could only leave slight caresses on his skin.

He let you go after a couple of minutes, getting his shirt off his nose and putting it around your cut, trying to stop the bleeding. “Get off” You repeated with a completely exhausted voice. “Shut up” He shouted at ou while he covered your whole arm with the shirt.

--------------------------------------------------

You wake up on your bed, covered by an unfamiliar sweatshirt, feeling completely exhausted, like you never felt before. You turned your head and you saw him sitting down in a chair.

“You fucker” You say angrily, getting up and walking towards him. He looks at you, judging your every word. “I saved your life” He says calmly. “You should thank me”

“You ruined my chance to live in peace” You shouted at him, as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks. “You don’t get to live after that, so what’s the point anyway. You should try to change your life. Doing that doesn’t help, god” He says angrily.

You start crying louder and messier, lying down on your bed, as you felt helpless. His words were right but damn, you hated living this way, you hated...

“Hey, hey I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so... Hey listen, I just wanted to give you another chance, to enjoy life. I couldn’t... I couldn’t just let you die like that” He says slowly, calming you down as his fingertips brush your back carefully.

“What’s your name?” You say in between cries. Your voice sounds distant as the sweatshirt, as the fabric block the sound of your crying voice. “Na Jaemin” He replies quickly. “That’s a cute name” You say still crying. The boy chuckles and caress your back lovingly. “You dummy” He says smiling.

You take your head out of the sweatshirt sleeve and look at him angrily, crying louder at his words. “No, no , okay you’re not dumb” He says panicking. You laugh at his cute reaction and hug him softly. “Why do I feel like I know you?” You whisper in his ear.

The boy looks at the wall, not giving an answer at all. Silence fills the room for a whole minute. “I... don’t know” He simply whispers. You close your eyes, letting your head rest over his shoulder as your whole body relaxes. Jaemin opens his mouth, wanting to explain you how he turned you into a vampire, and what it meant. Wanting to tell you everything you should know. But your lips are quicker.

“Jaemin” You say cutely. The boy shuts his mouth and simply hums at you. “I’m horny” You say even with a cuter tone. He chockes on his own saliva, making you laugh uncontrollably. “You what?” He shouts incredulously. You laugh out loud at his panicked self, pulling off the hug.

“It is true tho, I’m horny” You say, keeping the cute tone on your voice. The boy’s cheeks turn red slowly, letting you giggle a little more at his shyness. “React, Na Jaemin” You say, squeezing his cheeks cutely. He grabs your wrist strongly. “Don’t do that” He grunts under his breath.

You furrow your brows, worried at his sudden serious nature. You look at your wrist, covered by a bandage. Your eyes quickly get teary, remembering that moment. “Blood’s smell... It makes me go crazy, so keep it away” You nod at his words, not really understanding them.

His mouth tho, starts getting moist due to the saliva drooling out of his red lips. He starts getting closer to you, closing his eyes when he’s almost touching your lips with his. Your eyes close as well, letting his tongue get into your mouth.

His fingertips run through your body, making different paths along the curves, getting underneath the sweatshirt that covers your body. “Jaemin” You say breaking the kiss. He backs up and looks at you directly, as if asking “what’s wrong?” with his shiny eyes. “I feel weird” You say caressing his fingers with yours. “Isn’t this weird?” You ask him, now aware of the weirdness of the situation.

This stranger was inside your house for some reason, he saved you and now you wanted him. You wanted him so bad. This was a new kind of neediness. There was something inside of you that you couldn’t really control. Something that wanted to get the boy so badly...

“It’s my fault” He says looking down. His black hair covers his facial features as his eyes get lost on the folds of the bedsheets. “I’m a monster, Y/n” He says in a soulless voice that really gets into your heart. “I’m a vampire, I know, that’s crazy, omg, I can’t believe vampires exist... You can skip that part. Just, look, I have known you for long enough by now, and when I saw all that blood I couldn’t think straight. The smell of blood is simply too much, it invades my mind, and I can’t control myself. I turned you into a vampire...”

“What?!” You scream, not quite understanding the situation. “I’m sorry, I wanted to save you, and it was the only way... I... God I’m sorry” Tears starting going down his cheeks. You looked at his sad expression, wanting to be mad at him, but completely failing.

“It’s fine...God” You say lifting his face with your finger, and looking straight into his teary eyes. “So now I’m a vampire too?” You ask him confused. “Yeah... Well not yet, you’re transitioning, that’s why you feel weird....” His voice gets weaker and weaker as he speaks.

“What do you mean?” You look at him even more confused. “Well, this system was created by ancient vampires, they decided that for the sake of our species, when a vampire turns a human, they become attracted to them inmediately, so that they can have... you know.... babies” His cheeks turn into a cute shade of pink.

“God...” You say sighing, releasing your hold on his chin. “Does it go away?” You ask keeping a certain distance. “No, It never goes away, it just...gets...”

“What?!” You scream at him “It gets what?” The boy backs up slightly and looks at you with puppy eyes, keeping a pouting expression. “More intense...” His voice sounds like a mere whisper.

“Oh my god. So I’m just supposed to be needy for you 24/7?!” You shout, getting off the bed and standing next to it. “I.. I guess” He says looking down, embarassed at the situation that he got himself into. “Fuck.. Jaemin.. Why would you ughhh”

“I’m sorry okay, I wanted, I wanted to save you...” Jaemin says looking down, again. “Um... it’s fine I guess. Just let me have a minute, I’ll take a shower..” You say getting to your bathroom.

You prepare yourself to see all the blood and remember everything that happened last night, but the bathroom is absolutely clean. Even cleaner than usually. “I cleaned it” Jaemin clears out, still lying on the bed.

“And i get all that, let me get a break, buttt” He stands up, walking closer to you. “But?” You ask before his hands surround your waist. “It gets worse every minute, every second...maybe you should let yourself go first” His low voice whispers inside your ear and you completely lose it.

You can feel how your body is desperate for his touch, but your mind keeps on telling you how weird the situation is and how you should stay away from him for the moment. “Ahh.. Let me shower” You manage to say, struggleing at every word.

Jaemin chuckles at how cute you were when you were shy. “Don’t get too horny in there” He whispers getting his hands off your waist. Your cheeks get as red as they can possibly get.

----------------------------------------------------

The shower helped you get away from your dirty needs at least for some seconds. But when you saw Jaemin, all those feelings came back stronger, making you stop and stare at his body, lying on the bed.

He turns, feeling your presence. “Are you ready?” He says with a seductive voice letting his head fall out of the bed. His view is completely upside down, looking at your body and expression from the posture. You blink slowly, trying to hide your inner desires, but the boy is faster.

“You are ready” He shouts, jumping off the bed, excited. He gets to your position fastly, as he’s excited to start his little game. “I can’t wait to have kids with you” He says smiling. “W-what?. We are not having kids today. Nah-huh. Not in this household” You say pushing the boy away.

“Plus, I’m on birth control, so forget about that” You say looking away from him. His hands trap your waist, keeping you closer. “Okay, but the process is fun” He whispers, using that damn voice again, gettng you on your limit. His hands travel down your body, getting to your clothed cunt as he does.

“You look so cute when you’re shy, did you know that?” His body moves, making yours follow. “Huh?” You simply say, but you understand his words when his fingers get more aggresive. You can feel his cold fingertips moving against the fabric that covered your clit.

“Damn, I would have liked to fuck you while you were wearing my sweatshirt” He whispers, as an inner thought. His hands quickly turn your body, making you face him direcly. Your eyes study his already big smirk while his arms grab your body, putting you down in bed.

His body follows yours slowly. You can see how his mouth is drooling again, as he gets closer to your pussy. His hands remove your pants and underwear, letting his eyes get fixed on your exposed body. His tongue comes out, brushing your folds slowly, tasting the flavour of your juices.

“You are already so wet...” His tongue passes again through your folds “Fucking love it” His voice lets you know just how much he’s enjoying, making it hard to control the moans from coming out your mouth. “Fu-ck Jaemin” You moan out, unable to control yourself.

The boy rolls his eyes back, getting his tongue off your folds. His fingers though, get into you without a single warning. His lips are now pressed against your neck, licking the marks he did last night, and leaving some bruises around. Then they get to your own lips, moving into a heated kiss.

His fingers get faster into you as the kiss gets more heated, making you feel as well just how wet you actually are. “Fuck” He says under his breath. You look into his eyes, trying to guess what was wrong.

“Your arm” He says with an even deeper voice. You gasp lightly seeing how your arm wasn’t wrapped anymore, as the bandaid got off during the messy moves. The boy breathes slowly, and you can feel how his bulge grows against your thighs.

“It’s fine” You say blushing, your hands grab Jaemin’s face, forcing him to look at you. “Jaemin, it’s fine” You repeat calmly, making the boy calm down as well. His body stays the same, nonetheless.

He slowly gets his pants and boxers off, as you try your best to keep your arm away from him. His length quickly gets into you, stretching your walls slowly. His cute low moans mix with yours as his pace starts speeding up.

“Fuck Jaemin” You moan loudly, making the boy smile and get faster. “Cum for me baby” His low voice says while his hand caresses your cheek softly. You put your arms around his neck, keeping him closer to you and completely forgetting about the effect your blood had on the boy.

He breathes in, slowly and starts getting even faster, hitting parts of your insides that had never been touched before. “Fuck Jaemin” You manage to say as you cum.

Your whole body shakes but the boy doesn’t seem to bother. He continues thrusting into you, getting faster with every thrust, with every second. He doesn’t even bother when he cums inside of you, as he keeps his pace.

You try to keep your arm away once you notice the cause of the mess, but it’s completely impossible as his hand strongly grabs yours still. His tongue licks your forearm clean, drinking every drop of blood coming out from it.

“Jaemin, stop, fuck” You shout, feeling a second wave of arousal coming. The way your body shakes this time, makes something click inside his head, finally realizing what he was doing. He gets out of you, letting all the different fluids come out as well and inmediately his face turns into a concerned expression.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Are you.. are you” He starts panicking, studying every inch of your body, looking for possible damages he might have done. “That was amazing, holy shit” You let out, in between giggles.

“You’re so hot like that” You finich off, before placing a kiss onto the confused boy’s lips

--------------------------------------------------------

That was loong hahhahhahaa

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starcrossedyanderes · 3 years

Note

Would Rygel take his darling stargazing?

Yesssss

I’m sorry I just love it when I get requests that fit my ‘aesthetic’. I decided to take my own twist on this request so it turned into this. Also with this picrew Rygel has much darker skin but this was the darkest skin tone in this picrew.

“We have an event tonight.”

You quirked an eyebrow at Rygel’s words.

“When did you do events?”

“I must admit I usually abhor going to such required events. But I believe we shall find this one to be quite enjoyable.”

A smile actually pulled at Rygel’s lips as he looked down at you from his 6’9” stature. You felt a phantom hand caress your cheek; no doubt from Rygel’s own psychic abilities.

“Besides I think now is an excellent time to go ‘public’, don’t you agree?”

The hold on your cheek tightened.

“I expect that it has been long enough for you to have come to terms with my.. actual identity. And with that the expectations and status of you being my moonlight. I trust that you shall live up to these expectations, yes?”

The way his mind and eyes drilled into yours had you give out a meek “yes.”.

Rygel’s aura immediately lightened up and the feeling on your cheek disappeared only to be replace by the feeling of your whole body being gently squeezed; Rygel’s form of an affectionate hug and sign of approval.

Rygel bended down to your height to place a chaste kiss on your lips as the feeling of other kisses being placed all over your face accompanied it. You even felt some of your hair be lifted up and twirled.

“I’ll have a car pick you up at 8:30 and I believe the money I have just provided you should suffice for preparing for a formal event. Oh, and do be sure to wear the circlet I gifted you earlier. It is only fitting with your status being announced and all.”

Rygel pulled away with his flowy purple hair slightly ticking you. He started to walk towards the exit before suddenly turning around to face you again.

“Oh and one more thing my moonlight. Try and make yourself look as good as you truly are. In other words, perfect.”

~|~

After hitting up the mall you finally stood in back home in front of your full length mirror striking poses. Like, dang, you look good. You don’t know if this is how good you truly are, but dang is this as close to perfect as it gets.

Except for a teeny-tiny issue. Your circlet. How does one even wear such a thing? You just couldn’t get it sit quite right, look quite right, or anything! You just don’t know how to circlet!

And of course it was at that time you heard the opening of a car door.

Crud.

You would have to fix it in the car as you only had time to grab your purse and book it down to the car before Rygel blows up the planet or something.

You didn’t even pay attention to the chauffeur who held open the door for me as you scrambled in.

Of course like the idiot you were this also meant you didn’t notice that Rygel was also in the car with you.

There his majesty sat, for the first time legitimately speechless. Even you could practically feel the change in the mind pheromones thing. There clad in his suit and own matching circlet the Emperor sat truly admiring all that is you. It was times like these he remembered why exactly you were his destined one.

His eyes even became hooded!

“Darling, you look positively ravishing. Yes, I do believe this is the definition of perfection itself.”

As you buckled yourself in your face blushed as you let out a meek “thank you.”. But in classic Rygel fashion his face returned to mostly normal as if he hadn’t just said such out-of-character things.

It was with a slight chuckle at your positively adorable behavior that the car started up to wherever the heck you were headed.

As always the car ride with your ‘betrothed’ was almost completely silent since Rygel was never very talkative.

During this extended time you couldn’t help but to continuously fiddle with the garment on your head which just.. wouldn’t.. sit.. right! You had no idea how long you were trying to get it right before you were met with Rygel’s rich voice.

“Let me.”

You arms quickly fell down to your sides by both of your minds commands as Rygel lifted the circlet from your hair. You felt portions of your hair float into the sky as Rygel brushed your hair in certain directions before digging some pins out of his pocket.

“I always find pins to work best at keeping these in place. I never really use them though but I try to keep them on me at all times just for cases like these.”

It is with a few flourishes of his hands that the circlet was perfectly placed in your hair.

“Rygel..I.. Thank you!”

A sudden pull was administered on your waist as you fell into his chest. A large inhale was heard as Rygel took in the smell of your hair. A smile tugged at his lips as he placed a kiss onto your lockes.

“It is no issue. I pride making myself and others look presentable. Besides, I’m sure you’ll become more comfortable with putting on a circlet later. I’ll send you some info about how it is typically worn.”

“I would appreciate that.”

You sat in a comfortable silence before you broke it.

“Hey, where exactly are we going?”

“We’re going to an observatory where some of my people are holding an event in honor of us soon leaving this accursed place.”

Rygel truly was a master at saying sentences with a lot to unpack.

You turned to face him.

“Hold up? Your people? Aren’t they all supposed to be in space or something?”

Rygel let out a hum as you felt your hair mindlessly float about you.

“Well of course most of them are indeed in space but a few like me have infiltrated Earth and have made lives for themselves. Such as my foster family.”

“Are you telling me there’s a bunch of aliens walking around us in plain sight without anyone knowing?”

Rygel shrugged as a playful smirk pulled at his lips.

“Perhaps. I mean, I did manage to fool everyone for what? 18 years?”

At his remark you let out a few mumbles which only earned you a smile and pat on the head.

“You truly think the most hilarious things, my dear.”

~|~

“Isn’t it a bit much to.. float?”

The two of you were currently going up the stairs to the observatory with your small hand being engulfed by his slender, graceful one.

“Absolutely not. It is a show of status and is simply much more enjoyable than walking. I will never understand you humans. Why walk when you can simply float everywhere?”

“Because we can’t float.”

Rygel frowned slightly at that.

“Ah, yes. Pity. Really moonlight what ever would you do without me.”

“Walk.”

With a smirk you rose right up to him. His smirk seemed to widen even more once you clung to him to catch your balance.

“This.. is weird.”

“Just wait until you try dancing like this. Actually, stay like this on me for the rest of the night. I would hate for a small accident to occur.”

That was a lie and you knew it. He just liked you like this. But even so you couldn’t imagine how you would ever be able to dance on this invisible floor beneath you.

~|~

“Is that his imperial highness?”

“He’s so tall.”

“And so.. pretty...”

Rygel let out a quiet sigh only you seemed to hear.

“And all of the sudden I remember why I don’t enjoy such events.”

You had to agree with his sentiment once walking past an uncomfortable amount of gazes. How did they even know who you both were?

It’s probably because you’re the only two wearing circlets and floating that high off the ground. Curse that fancy headpiece!

The two of you began to walk deeper into the dome where the large telescope could be seen.

But you were quickly interrupted.

“Oh! Your imperial highness! How wonderful it is to see you!”

You could tell by the change of Rygel’s aura that his mood had quickly soured.

“Ah, Devah.”

Out of the corner of your eye you could both see Rygel’s strained smile and 2 glasses floating your way.

As the glass landed in your hands Rygel slightly turned to you.

“This is one of the main sponsors of the missions on Earth.”

Devah put on way too cheery of a smile as he hissed out a whisper; as if he was making sure you could not hear.

“And is it alright if I ask but what exactly is a human doing here?”

Rygel’s golden eyes flashed as his grip tightened on you and his mind readied for a strike.

“She is my mate. If you are not as dimwitted as I thought then you should know that things such as species has no effect on who a person’s mate is. Human or not, she is your empress and you shall treat her as such.”

As the aliens face paled it dawned on you that Rygel may be invisibly choking like in Star Wars.

“Y-yes, my apology your imperial highness.”

Rygel raised a purple eyebrow at this as the man jerked into a bow as yellow energy surrounded him.

“Highness?”

“Y-yes your imperial highnesses.”

Rygel actually let out a smile at this.

“Much better. But I think we’ll just leave you like this for the rest of the night. Perhaps it will help you remember your status. Come now, my darling.”

You were pulled away from the bowing alien by Rygel’s long strides towards the large telescope; the focal point of the room.

As Rygel peered in and gave some slight adjustments to the machinery you took a sip from the glass in front of you only to pull back in shock.

This was a new taste for sure. Despite scowering your mind’s attic of a memory you could not place such a taste anywhere. You were honestly kind of scared to ask what the drink was made because of the possible response being blood.

And you kinda needed to know if this was alcholic.

“Um.. Hey, Emperor?”

Rygel let out a mere hum as his only indication of hearing you as his psychic energy caressed you.

“What exactly is this drink? And is it alcholic?”

Rygel let out a light chuckle as his golden eyes continued to look through the lens.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t alcholic. I know you technically aren’t of age to drink here but you’re always more than welcome to. Beauty of world domination and all.”

You hated how he says such awful things so eloquently.

“What you are currently holding, my dear moonlight, is a drink that is drived from one my home planet’s natural fruits. I believe in your language it would be pronounced as the xoqub fruit. Care to look?”

Rygel pulled away from the telescope to give you your turn at the stars. As your eyes peered in you continue your questions.

“How did you even get that stuff here? That has to take forever to ship out.”

“It does take quite a bit to get here but it is admittedly faster than transporting life forms. We actually do a mix of getting some delivered, growing it ourselves here, and just using food replicators.”

“HOL UP YOU GUYS HAVE REPLI-”

“If you point it more this way you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Rygel prematurely interrupted you by moving the telescope slightly.

“This is the closest point this telescope can get to our planet. It can be seen far past this point.”

You were the one to actually shut yourself up as you stared deeply at that tiny little point.

“It’s really that far away?”

“Yes. It is at least a one month journey to reach there. We will also have a few days added on as we will be making a few stops along the way for various things and your own enjoyment.”

You looked up from the vast before you.

“My own enjoyment?”

“This will be your first time into space, yes? I figured you could at least see some of your new territories. I also have some things to take care of at these places anyway. We’re mainly stopping at the Europa colony and this area by the Kupier belt. After that it’s a non stop journey.”

You turned to look back at all the stars.

“It’s weird.. to think I’ll be riding through the stars and going to places humans have never gone before. But it’s all so.. pretty.”

Rygel hummed as he took a sip from his own glass.

“And all that ‘pretty’ shall be ours, my moonlight.”

#yandere #romance #emperor rygel #rygel #yandere emperor #alien #stargazing #starcrossedyanderes

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