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lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall · 3 years

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The Odd Rumble of Thunder - Thor x Reader

(A/N)

Hey guys! I wanted to personally thank you all for the kind comments and messages, they really inspire me to continue writing more and the support truly means a lot! Also, I just found out how to access post replies, I apologize I haven’t gotten to reading them since my first story, I’m still trying to figure out the gist of things here on Tumblr! Anyways, recently I’d only been posting more on Poseidon, so here’s a special one for our Norse god of thunder (aka the god I simp for the most). This idea came to me while out on a camping trip, I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback would really be welcomed and appreciated!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Odd Rumble of Thunder

Thor x Reader

Even before the news spread like wildfire, Thor had become under the tyranny of a good habit to bringing his wife with him wherever he may go. It stood to reason that he would never be so careless to invite you over to danger, hence why, at a god’s ephemeral notice, he had stopped seeking direction for his combative side, but when, at last, he had to venture, he made much quicker work of it than when he would have otherwise.

Inarguably, if you’d wanted to lay down and rest instead, it was a surety you’d receive your meals in bed, unbothered. But for Thor there was no guarantee he’d ever have to worry about you, so the whole of Asgard knew by now he’d drop whatever he was doing to accompany you, uncaring about diplomacy in the first place.

Not that Odin nor Loki minded either; especially since the Allfather knew more about the concerns of a father expecting their first child. Moreover, Loki enjoyed shapeshifting into his cousin during days he was absent. It was much more fun to cause mischief legally, as he would say.

Today, Thor stood by his wife who sat comfortably in her rocking chair on the porch, allowing a full view of the hills that sloped gently down to the grand gardens. You were seven months along, approaching the eight month, the swell of your stomach now far more prominent.

At the very moment you had begun to show, you had a companion of whom would almost never leave your side, your husband’s absence in the kingdom gradually becoming more frequent, more lengthened, till at last his presence among his people became an exception. Despite your constant reassurances that you would be fine, Thor insisted on staying, casually sweeping aside your thoughts regarding his habitual sense of duty.

“I would only be gone for nine months to tend to my wife and child, they should fare well on their own lest they are more incompetent than I would’ve thought.” Thor had told you once before, and you’d decided not to question him further on that. You understood your husband’s concerns, to be truthful, you had a few of your own as well, so having Thor assist you alleviated some of the stress and worry concerning your child’s safety.

Especially now that you were nearing your due date. For instance, you were having the toughest time moving, suffering primarily from the weight in your belly and pains in your back and legs that made walking and even standing difficult. What made the physical strain worse too was your child’s eagerness to know you and Thor both, unable to stay long in one position, much like their father’s enthusiasm for battle.

“How are you feeling?” Thor’s question rested upon a rather precise calculation of the last time he had asked the same only a short moment before. It was quite visible in his actions that he did not want to cause any negative feelings if he could help it, though desiring you to avoid stress as much as possible.

You smiled. “Come close. You’ve been standing there for ages just ogling at me.” You opened your arms out wide. “Are you not tired?”

Truth be told, despite Thor’s constant need to remain close to his wife, he felt a real, undeniable fear of touching you, specifically, your abdomen. He closed the distance between until he was right in front of you, staring down at you with hard eyes. Longing leaped like a flame reaching out in his celestial yellow orbs.

“Love, I am always grateful for your concern for me. And I am feeling much better just knowing you’re beside me.” You raised yourself up, pushing against the chair to try to stand. Thor rushed forward, held you then put his hands under your arms to lift you up. Your child was growing fast. “But how about you? How are you feeling?”

You inched closer, your fingers playing with the locks of his hair that you could reach. “Aside from the stress of waiting, I’ve noticed that you have something else weighing on your mind.

“Tell me, what is it?”

At the sight of you through his warworn eyes, his mind was filled with bliss. For that loving glance of yours, he felt a divine presence and holy atmosphere that seemed to pervade everything around you. Having an inkling of what you were hinting at though, he broke your gaze, in an attempt to avert the guilt you conferred on him.

“Please. We’re in this together, I would want nothing more than to help you back as much as you’ve helped me.” Thor felt you shift in his arms, get more comfortable. He felt the bulk of your child across his legs, the weight no doubt pulling you down. Seeing you in pain like that, was sad and unbearable, and the gnawing feeling grew stronger. And since he knew you were always so full of strength and determination, always unrelenting in your attempts to make him feel better, he began,

“I am afraid.” Red eyebrows drew together.

“Afraid of what?”

“That I might accidentally hurt you and our child,” Thor took a deep breath in then let it out in a sigh while taking a step back. “I do not want that to happen, even if I want to be at your side at all times. And this frustrates me to no end.”

Thor did himself a favor by giving attention to anything other than his wife, refusing to be a witness on the sadness and any he may have caused. Dealing with his own disappointment was nothing new, but he had trouble dealing with the fact that he was the cause of yourpain. He wished he could take his troubles which escaped, hanging in the air, and all the bad feelings on himself and let things continue as they were, but he knew it didn’t work that way. You needed to know that he only wanted you and your child safe and protected, even from himself.

He could not understand how the cosmos could play such a cruel joke on the both of you: you, bore so much pain because of one of the greatest affairs of life, and him, the strongest deity in the Pantheon, was powerless against the natural laws of existence.

Strong shoulders slumped, head bowing as stray strands of red hair fell over Thor’s brow. Not again. He did not wish to be reminded of the cautious sympathy his father and cousin had approached him with. His stomach lurched whenever the subject of your frailty came up. Dread and a terrifying fear overwhelmed his soul for the first time, the thought of losing you−

“Hey,” Your voice which lingered on the gentle breeze brushed against Thor’s face, pulling him out of his stupor. He refocused, turning his gaze onto your sweet face.

How were you able to hold yourself up well despite your obvious pain and suffering? Did you not bear the same nervousness as he did? The answer was obvious, practically screaming in Thor’s ears but became deaf following his guilt and clouded instincts. For a long time since you’d first told him about the news, he bore these worries in silence; but when at length he’d been perplexed by your introspection−or seeming lack of it. Why, in fact, did you concern yourself with him at all? Compared to you, there was hardly any threat to his own life posed. Why had you always done more to make him feel better when you were the one who needed it most?

Cutting through the haze he found himself in was the shape of you, or maybe your hair billowing in the wind, a wisp of it across your face, and then suddenly the feel of your skin, the sense of your head on his chest. Even if it were fleeting, that alone brought him the possibilities of comfort that he’d so needed. Oh, how he missed this; you cupped his big callously marble hands around yours, caressing them so tenderly, as if he were fragile and might break, so short it could never be pulled back.

As he relished the warmth of the blaze you gave him for the winter of unease, he’d realized much sooner that the coldness that inched its icy fingers up his spine still threatened to battle your kind words, you, his very own wife, and he detested himself for being unsure whether or not it was of his own doing; was he pushing you away when you’d only wanted to offer your help?

Thor’s immediate impulse was to pull back from you, abruptly halted by your fingers which slipped between his now splayed hand. You wrinkled your nose in a delightfully unguarded manner that caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Do you remember the first time we said our vows?” If only you knew the way Thor perceived you: in his eyes, your radiant smile reflected the morning sunlight of Valhalla, for a split second picturing the moment you’d walked down the aisle, that headpiece on your head instantiating the paradox of mystery that once lifted revealed your beautiful face, marking it the best day of his long life. Something warm bloomed in his chest once again and spread its heat out through every vein in his body. He remembered the smooth feel of the veil against his cheek after sealing your promise with a kiss, his lips parting with a breathless sigh.

“Your hands caressed my fit of nerves with light, tender touches and then inspired me with hard, passionate embraces,” With effortless ease, you lifted your intertwined hands to your mouth and kissed his knuckle. Thor watched with great admiration your every move, the desire to distance himself was now but an afterthought. Nothing would ever separate him from you when all you’d ever done was pull him closer than ever.

Then, you sought out his hand, kissing his palm as he stroked your face. You clung onto his arms, gripped at his chest as if you were searching for warmth, as if you needed his touch, and much like him, couldn’t bear to be even an inch away. His mind was still slowing its racing to let him mutter something in response, so he allowed himself to be entranced by how smooth and sure of yourself you were, with nothing to mar the calm serenity of your features. Your smile seemed to be a natural adornment, the utter gentleness in your eyes, reminded him of every morning when he woke up, he would see you by his side, as well as your sleeping snoring face. Right at that moment, the silly scream finally made it to the deaf god’s ears:

He was your haven,

The place you called home and went to find peace.

As Thor immersed himself in your smell, your sparkling eyes, he felt the excruciating cold all melt away in your warmth. No more seeds of doubt with which to sow and seek his destiny. Slowly, he began to see his surroundings from a keener point of view, realizing, then appraising them: from the passing wind your hair messed which he pushed aside, tucking it behind your ear, to how his sash seemed to fit him better indeed, rather than cling onto his skin even tighter as brutally as it had done before. He noticed the minute changes since he’d last taken a good look at you months ago: a little flusher on your skin, lines around the eyes a little deeper, a little increase in body temperature.

He pulled you closer, his actions not arising from calculation instead led by instinct. You let him take more of your weight, your belly pressed against his stomach as you sighed, his fingers working wonders on massaging the muscles that had been much abused in carrying the baby’s weight. A sudden wrenching through his sash struck Thor’s heart and had him holding his breath.

The baby had moved, and he’d felt it.

Bending down, he buried his nose in your hair, closing his eyes as he drank in your scent. Your arms wrapped around his back as he connected in this loving embrace, feeling his heart beat in rhythm with your own.

“Our child would no doubt love to be enveloped in their father’s safe arms,” With a light, gentle touch, your fingers ran through Thor’s hair, making him shiver with delight.

On that day, only the beautiful gardens of Asgard became privy to nothing more than a moment in which husband and wife reached for the same comfort and their concerns met. These gardens were simultaneously the very same place where Thor had first avoided the problems that plagued his mind, but also became exactly the same place where he’d find solace in the arms of his lovely wife.

Resting his hand on where his child was, he recognized that familiar feeling turning up, but upon realizing the bittersweet irony of and within these gardens, the revelation came to him: happiness could also come from the very object of fear.

And as you had an unmovable trust in him, there was an unspoken mutual understanding that he too, should put his trust in you.

#snv x reader #snv thor #snv thor x reader #thor x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok thor x reader

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darylsgirl · 3 years

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He’s just like the sun. Daryl Dixon x Reader 18+ Smut

*Second ever Fanfic! Exciting! I hope you guys enjoy this! Please let me know if there is anything you’d change about it or anything you like! I would love some tips on how to improve! I will warn it does get pretty dark at points, but the story just kind of got away from me again haha! Younger reader and Older Daryl for the anonymous request! Hope this has lived up to your expectations! Hope y’all having a lovely day <3*

Warnings!: Domestic violence, Heavy cursing, Violence and Smut

Summary: Daryl had saved you from a herd of walkers, When you reached Alexandria he became distant and you started dating Spencer. He stayed away from you fully until Carol brought it to his attention that Spencer could be hurting you. Long slow burn. Smutty ending with Confessions of love :)

Part Two Part three

“Good morning baby” He said rolling on top of you kissing you swiftly.

“Good Mornin’ Spence' You replied squirming uncomfortably.

He enveloped you in his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“Sorry Spence, but carol’s expecting me. I really have to go!”

His eyes flashed dark, He finally released you. “So just Carol? Or is there anyone else you will be seeing today?”

You pushed your hand to the back of your neck rubbing it uncomfortably. “Urm yeah i think it’s just carol, She did say something about Rosita popping by to give us a hand”

“Well you know what to do if anyone else turns up right? Or should I remind you?” He said with a smirk now.

Your eyes met his panicked now “No i promise only Carol and Rosita. I know what to do i promise baby”

Ugh you hated calling him that but you knew it worked. You looked back at him and could see your words had placated him for now. Running to the bathroom you quickly got ready for the day, Checking over your appearance in the mirror you were satisfied that everything would look normal to anyone looking at her. You tucked your shirt into your jeans wincing as you did to make sure this didn’t rise up and left the bathroom. Sighing a breath of relief when you saw that Spencer had gotten up and left. Running a hand through your hair you ran downstairs, laced your boots up hastily, Leapt off the porch and headed towards Carol’s house.

You always loved your days with Carol, She was the most incredible woman. Tough, unrelenting and takes no nonsense but yet the mother of the group and loves everyone unconditionally, You’re pretty sure she would die for any one of you. She made you feel safe and at ease which is two feelings that were hard to come by these days.

Smiling as you saw Carol in the front garden digging. You ran over and saw that there was a tray sitting on the porch with two cups of tea and some pancakes waiting. She nodded towards the porch “Go on help yourself Y/N. I'll be over in a minute” Another reason you just loved Carol. She. was. The. best. Cook. Even something as simple as pancakes you knew were going to be delicious. “So I heard through the grapevine it’s your birthday soon?” Carol asked. You smiled at her “Yeah,I’ll be 22 on April 16th. Not that i’m even sure when that is now”

“It seems silly now but sometimes i wonder what it would of been like to have my first drink, Never got a chance with the end of well….everything”

Carol looked over at you and checked the calendar. “Deana told me the date when we got here and I've been marking it ever since. Looks to be a week on Tuesday! Got anything nice planned?” “Nah, Just another day to me now!” You said shrugging.

“Is Spencer planning anything?”

“Um not sure, I don’t think i’ve told him if i'm honest”

“Well tell me then. If you could have anything in the world what would it be”

You smiled the answer coming so easy to you now “A sunflower, I would really love to see a sunflower again”

Carol nodded at you. “Now that would be something”

Smiling happily again as you sat down you pulled a plate of pancakes on your lap and ravenously ate groaning as you did. “Carol, these are sooo good. What’s the secret?”

“Y’all know if i tell you, i’d have to kill you” She said with a light hearted laugh and a wink.

You had quickly finished your plate using the tea to wash it down. You thanked Carol, Grabbed the tray and walked in to clean the dishes. Carol followed in behind you talking about the day’s tasks. You didn’t really pay much attention as you were happy to do whatever as long as you weren’t stuck at home or with him.

That’s when you heard him “Mornin’ Carol any o’ those fer me?” You body froze with fear, You needed to get out of here NOW. You scrubbed the plates and mugs as quick as you could and set them on the side of the sink to try. Spinning around you grabbed a dish cloth and wiped your hands. “I’m so sorry Carol, I just remembered I promised Spencer something, I have to go. I’ll see you soon?”

You started making your way briskly towards the door when a hand grabbed your wrist. “Y/N There a problem here?” You were too scared to look him in the eye, Those were your weakness so bright and beautiful. “No Daryl, Just cant be here” You muttered staring at your feet silently begging him to push and save you, But in true shy Daryl fashion he released your arm still staring at you.

Carol cleared her throat “I thought you had made a promise not that you couldn’t be here?” She walked over to you, also staring at you intensely. “Same thing, Not allowed. Promised Spencer” Carol’s eyes burned looking at you she grabbed your face pulling your eyes up to meet yours. “Not allowed?” She asked softer than you expected. You nodded your head slightly “Please Carol i have to go” You begged her scared. She gripped your face tighter, Her eyes wandering quickly across your face. You ripped your face from her hands and Carol gasped. Panic building in you again you turned and ran through the front door with Carol and Daryl hot on your heels.

As you hit the pavement you ran straight into him, You froze again,Fear in your eyes, your eyes downcast..

Spencer looked at you then looked at the porch seeing them both there he wrapped his hand around your lower back digging his nails painfully into your side. You jumped slightly. Spencer put his lips to your ear and whispered “Smile and wave and say goodbye to your friends” Putting an emphasis on the word friends. Tears stung your eyes.

You looked up at carol placing an unconvincing smile on your face, “Bye guys, Thank you for breakfast Carol” The second the words had left your mouth Spencer was dragging you by the hip back to the house your eyes still not leaving Carol’s in a wordless plea.

Back on the porch Carol turned to Daryl “Fuck, We gotta do something about that” “Bout what?” he asked puzzled “God Daryl you can be so blind sometimes!” “Didn’t you see her neck when she was leaving, Those bruises were finger marks. I’d bet my life on it” He looked over at Carol shocked “He like Ed?” She nodded mouth forming a thin line “The one thing that bastard was good for is he taught me to see the signs of that evil in others, That fear was mine not too long ago” She continued “We can’t just get involved that won’t help we need to watch him and catch him at it so he can’t make her lie”

Daryl felt like something inside him had broken, He couldn’t believe that prick was doing this to her, To Y/N, A Girl like that deserved to be treated like an angel. He wished he could have told her how he felt before all this and saved her the pain.

He had loved her from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. He had been the one to find her when they were on the road to DC. She was alone trying to fight off a herd of walkers with a determined look in her eye. Daryl had known he wasn’t supposed to get involved; he was supposed to be just observing and reporting back to the group. But the look in her eye had made him charge forward “Hey!! Over here! Follow me!” She hadn’t even given it a second thought she just ran towards him and swung her leg over the back of his motorbike and they had ridden off. It had happened so quickly neither of them had the chance to wonder if the other could be dangerous. They both had connected at a base level without suspicion.

Daryl had forced his bike to its limits, hightailing it back to the group with her arms around him. When he got back to them Rick had rushed forward to greet them looking warily at the pair, Daryl stopped the bike and started trying to explain to his friend when she fell sideways from the bike. Having to explain to the group that he didn’t even know her name was difficult but he just had to save her. By way of an explanation he just said “Any woman tha faces down a hoard alone earnt her chance”

Daryl hadn’t left her side until she woke up. Seeing his reaction to this woman the group didn’t question it and just accepted her as one of their own.

Daryl smiled thinking back to all the moments you two had been together on the road to here, To alexandria which had quickly become home. Before here he had barely left your side, He had thought you were incredible. A complete badass. From the first day you had defended and helped the group as if they were already family. You were a perfect fit. You were everything he wasn’t Light and beautiful. He knew a woman like you would never want the dark twisted man he had become but he couldn’t stop himself from being around you. You were magnetic.

He never had the guts to tell you all of this, He knew you would reject him and everything your presence had healed in him would be shattered again. When they had gotten to Alexandria he had started seeing less of you as you had taken up your post at the infirmary and he had been going on more and more runs to keep the community fed and taken care of. He had started to wish for injuries just so he would have an excuse to feel your eye’s meet his again. He craved your touch with everything in him. But of course he could never tell you that, It would be so wrong of him. He was no good for you, he was atleast 20 years older for a start, An old redneck like him could never deserve a young beauty like you.

About a week after you had all gotten here someone else had noticed you. You seemed to rebuff his advances at first which gave Daryl hope. A few weeks later Daryl was sent on a long run and when he came back there you were on Spencer's porch wrapped in his arms, Laughing at his words. That memory was the most painful for him, He had just gotten up the guts after a very close call to tell you how much he loved you and needed you to be his and there you were, Someone else’s now.

He couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you had in fact been his, He spent all of his nights wondering what it would be like to have you in his arms lay next to him, Wondering what your lips would feel like on his, How your skin would feel under his fingers, Your breath on his skin. All of these nights ended in a hurried and urgent tug as he let his mind imagine your hands were his. Moaning your name night after night. Always opening his eyes to the empty space beside him and the gripping pain in his chest.

“Daryl, Come in Daryl” Carol was waving her hand in front of your face. “Uhh Sorry, What did you say?”

“I said,'' Can you make an excuse to go to the infirmary tonight?” He balled his fists. He could definitely do that. He waited a few hours and then stormed towards the garage with Carol hot on his heels. He drew a deep breath and then punched his hand through the glass cabinet. Drawing his hand back and watching the blood seep down his wrist. Looking up at Carol expectantly “That’ll do nicely Daryl” With a glint in her eye. She turned and grabbed a rag off the side and wrapped it around his wrist. You go to the infirmary ill get Y/N. Daryl couldn’t feel the pain of what he had done yet, He could just feel the adrenaline rushing through him.

Carol ran across and down the street stopping to take a deep breath before knocking she heard a whimper from inside. Fixing a panicked look on her face she knocked urgently. A few moments later Spencer tore the door open, “What?” He demanded. Unfazed Carol replied “Hey spence! I’m sorry to intrude so late but we need Y/N Its urgent” She smiled sweetly at him. “Whatever you need her for you either tell me or you can wait till tomorrow” Showing him the blood on her hands. “Well um there was an accident and we can’t find denise.” She said in an innocent voice. Hearing this you appeared at the door and looked up at spencer. “I need to go, I promise i'll be quick…. Please?” You smoothed your hair over your neck again and started out of the door towards Carol when Spencer caught your wrist pulling you back to him. “You better be, I aint done with you yet” He growled into your ear, Then pushed his lips to yours put a fake smile on his face “Okay honey, Be Careful”

You took this moment to pull your arm from his following Carol pressing her for more information. You arrived at the infirmary and saw Daryl on the steps blood dripping down his hand onto the steps. You unlocked the door and ushered him and Carol inside.

Sitting Daryl down and not meeting his eyes you delicately removed the rag from his wrist and grimaced. Knowing better than to ask questions you set to work with a pair of tweezers and started removing the glass shards from his hand and wrist before cleaning the wound, Stitching and bandaging it as quick as you could. You braved a glimpse upwards and saw his eyes searching your body and then your eyes.

Seeing those beautiful blue eyes hit yours you were fighting the tears. You wanted to spill and tell him everything. He had always had that effect on you all he had to do was look at you and you wanted to pour yourself into him. You had loved him from the very beginning, From the moment your eyes met you had craved him, Craved those beautiful strong arms around you keeping you safe from the world.

You had always wished he would show even a spark of interest towards you, Well he was always around but he acted so indifferent.

Engrossed in his eyes just staring at each other it was like there was no one else in the world, He was the sun pulling you in. His hand came up and moved the hair from your face, His fingers lingering before moving your hair completely away from your neck, his eye’s darting downwards inspecting you. His eyes grew dark then “Please Y/N what has he done to you?” his eyes were fixed on your neck as he reached forward and brushed his fingers across your throat tracing the bruises.

Your breath hitched in your throat enjoying his touch. Carol cleared her throat from the corner “Guys we got company” Daryl dropped his hand and darted forwards blocking the doorway as it flung open.

Spencer, He was fucking everywhere.

“Can i help you?” Daryl growled. “What are you doing man, Where’s my girl?” Spencer asked. “She’s Busy and she’s gon be busy for a long time. Why don’t you take off kid” Daryl said still not moving from spencer’s way “I’ll take off when i’ve got my girl, Get the fuck out of the way” You could hear the change in his tone turn from polite to the voice that sent fear through your bones.

You stepped forward. “I’m right here. It’s okay i won't be long” Daryl looked back at you pained “Yeah ya will. We aint letting ya go back with him” Roaring “Fucking look at yaself Y/N look at those bruises!” He span back at spencer “Ya needa take a fuckin hike, Touch her again ill kill you” He growled. Spencer looked amused “Yeah, Ok redneck scurry on to your moonshine and skinning possums'' He half laughed. “You think that little bitch wants you? She’s mine. Now get your ass here Y/N before i get fucking angry.”

Daryl was heaving now Carol rushed forwards and grabbed his arms as he went to lunge forward. You forced your body forward in between them both tears freely running down your face now. “It’s okay, Daryl I’m okay. I’m not worth it” You winced when you felt Spencer's hands dig into your already bruised hips again. Daryl saw this “Ya gotta be kiddin me Y/N Ya worth 10 o’ him'' His eyes searched yours again desperate. “Please Daryl don’t make this any worse” “You heard her white trash” Spencer then pulled you from the room back down the infirmary steps, Daryl watched as he pulled her down the street and threw her back through the front door”

Anger boiling through his veins he took off in the other direction, grabbed his bike and took off out of the gate and into the night.

A week had passed since that night, It had taken a week to recover from the beating he gave you. You knew the rules No talking to either of them now. You were to go to work and come home, No more out of hours calls. You watched when Daryl finally rode back into town. Covered in walker blood his face still contorted in anger when he rushed back into the house. You saw the light come on in the basement and watched as he smashed up what few belongings he had before settling onto his bed. This had become your favourite pass time you loved that you could see straight into his room and the garage when he was in there. Spencer had already noted they could see into this house and had kept the curtains drawn on all rooms at all times.

When you finally did go back to work Spencer walked you to and from the infirmary for the first week until he started to relax again. You liked it better when he relaxed, He could be sweet and loving towards you and you did everything you could to prolong it to avoid his rages again.

On the tuesday you now knew was your birthday, You went to work with a half smile on your face. Denise pointed over to a desk “That was dropped off for you earlier” You walked over and found a slightly dirty Pin. Flipping it over you saw it was a beautiful painted sunflower. Beaming you turned back to denise “Who was it?” “Ahh sworn to secrecy! Sorry Y/N” You playfully growled at her “ooh terrified! I’m more scared of them, than I am of you Y/N Sorry still not telling!” You laughed and decided to let it go and just enjoy your beautiful thoughtful gift.

Since Spencer had relaxed he had let you walk to work and back alone on the second day of this you heard him. “Y/N wait up!” Shit not now! What if he’s watching. You darted your eyes around and picked up the pace towards home. Running to catch up with you, Daryl ran in front of you and made you stop.

“Please not now Daryl, If he sees...I’m not allowed….I’m not allowed to be near you” You stuttered. You gazed up at him pleading. His eyes went hard. “No! NO! I aint allowing it! Ya not going back to him Y/N I aint allowing him to hurt ya again!” You started shaking at his raised voice. Daryl noticed this and looked to be struggling with himself before finally lunging towards you and taking your head in his hands making your eyes stay on his. There it was again he was the sun and you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

“I love ya Y/N, I fuckin love ya! I can’t watch him not treat you like how you deserve! I’ll take care of you please, please let me i'll protect you with everythin i have!” His eyes looked wild and desperate. You couldn’t stop yourself, you pushed your lips forward meeting his hurriedly matching his desperation. The world could have ended again right then. You wouldn’t have cared one bit as he wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him feeling safe at last.

Your hands made their way to his hair no longer caring who was watching and pulled him closer to you. He pulled away reluctantly. “Come on we’re getting ya stuff now. I’m not having ya there for another second '' Your brain still foggy you nodded giggling and let him pull you towards your house. Panic setting in again. Spencer should still be on guard duty the house should be empty so why were you so afraid.

You looked back at Daryl and melted again. “Wait here, I won't be long, there's not much I need” He nodded at you taking a defensive stance and staring into the street.

You ran up the stairs and threw the door open shutting it softly behind you and ran up the stairs grabbed your bag from under the bed and stuffing clothes in at random, Next you turned to the bathroom and grabbed your tooth brush and other bits. Smiling at yourself in the mirror not recognising the happy woman in front of you.

It was then you saw him leaning against the doorway behind you. “That was quite a show Y/N, Well there’s only one thing for it! You ain’t goin nowhere with him with fuckin nobody but me bitch” He smirked at you and dove forward grabbing fistfuls of hair in his hands he threw your head forward smashing it into the mirror. You screamed begging him to let go as he continued to pull your head back and hit it back into the wall. You could feel the blood running down your face. Clouding your eyesight. Suddenly the hands were gone you gripped the sink fighting to stay up right. Grabbing a cloth and rubbing the blood out of your eyes you saw Spencer being dragged from the room. You followed as quick as your stumbling legs would carry you.

You made it out onto the street to see spencer in the middle of the road and Daryl over him punching everywhere he could “I fuckin told ya, I’d Fuckin told ya i’d kill ya” He was screaming into his face. You looked around and saw a crowd had formed. Deana, Spencer’s mother was screaming for Daryl to stop. Which brought Rick and the others running. Carol ran straight for you taking your head in her hands and pulling you close. Whispering “It’s okay now Y/N. It’s okay i’ve got you”

Rick ran straight at Daryl pulling him away from Spencer. Spencer pulled himself up and spat the blood from his mouth glaring at you now He pulled himself to his feet stumbling, eyes locked on you glaring he screamed “You little bitch” and ran at you. Rick couldn’t restrain Daryl any more as Daryl ran forward grabbing Spencer and throwing him to the ground again just before he reached you. Rick and a few others ran forward again and stood in front of you guarding you from Spencer. Daryl saw the fear in your eyes and rounded back on him.

Crouching over Spencer on the floor Daryl yelled “Ya don’t listen do ya, Rick was trying to save ya miserable piece of shit life” He punched him again. “Me, I want to see ya as an undead asshole and I wanna be the one to do it, So keep pushing it Spencer” He pulled his crossbow from off his back and pointed it at the man on the ground, his chest heaving now. A strangled cry left your throat then.

Pushing yourself out of Carol’s arms you made your way to Daryl, You put your hand over his on the bow and pushed it down. Internally begging him to look at you. He finally did “Please Daryl it doesn’t matter, I don’t matter. I won’t have you being a murderer for me”

Daryl’s eyes softened before turning back to spencer “Twice in a day someone else has saved ya fuckin life. Don’ even think about coming near her again. I even smell you near her or catch you looking at MY WOMAN again. ill rip ya fucking eyes out” He roared

Deanna was at her sons side now “He gets it please, Please leave so i can take my son home”

Daryl turned to you “Come on baby, We need to go home too” He dropped his crossbow back over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you to him and pressing his lips to your forehead. You instantly relaxed grinning into him and you let him guide you again over to his house and down to his basement. You looked at him sadly when he pulled his arms from around your shoulders and turned to lock the door behind you pulling the deadbolt across.

He turned smiling at you “Come on let’s get a good look at ya” Putting his hand in yours he brought you to the bed and sat you down inspecting the gash on your head. “We needa get you to Denise to get ya patched up” You grimaced “No she will be busy with him, I can do it. You got a needle and wire?” He looked at you shocked “Um yeah somewhere here” He busied himself getting those for you. He came back to you with them and some rubbing alcohol and bandages “Ya sure ya don’t want Denise? I’d do it but i'd probably make it worse” You smiled at him again sighing “It’s okay Daryl, It’s not my first rodeo” You made your way to the mirror and calmly cleaning and stitching yourself up.

Daryl was half fascinated and half horrified as he watched you work. You looked so calm and didn’t even flinch when you were stitching yourself. It disturbed him to know you had probably gotten used to giving yourself medical attention. He waited patiently for you to be done. When you finally made your way back to him he pulled you back into his arms breathing deeply “I ain’t ever gonna let anyone hurt ya again Y/N not ever.”

You reluctantly pulled yourself away now looking up at him with tired eyes. “I um didn’t get a chance to get my bag. Could I borrow something? I think I need to lie down, If that’s okay? Or I could go ask Carol if she minds me going upstairs?”

“Ya kiddin aren’t ya? I aint letting you out of my sight” Getting nervous suddenly “Unless ya don’t want to be here. I aint gonna force you to stay or anything else'' You smiled at him again “Daryl i want to be here, With you. It’s all i’ve ever wanted” He grinned relieved, turned to his dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. “This alright?” You pulled the shirt up to your face smelling it briefly, It was clean but still smelled distinctly like motor oil and cigarettes. Just like him. You smiled sweetly at him “It’s perfect, Thank you”

You looked pointedly at him, He laughed awkwardly, lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling above giving you your privacy. You slowly started removing your clothes wincing at points where your skin was still tender. Gratefully pulling his shirt over you and Scooping your hair out of the neck.

“I don’t suppose the infamous Daryl Dixon owns a comb or brush does he?” You said amused. He jumped up again grabbing a brush from another drawer and bringing it over to you. His eyes assessed you “I don’t think ya going to manage to brush that out. Needs washin”

“Oh and you're the authority on washing now?” You winked at him. You brought your hand to your hair and realised he probably had a point, Looking at him meekly this time. “Sorry I'm being such pain. Would you mind?” “Course not Darlin” He led you to the bathroom just off his room. He grabbed a towel and some shampoo from the cupboard and handed them to you, He turned the shower on “Give it a sec, Generator needs ta kick in”

You shooed him out of the bathroom, Unwillingly pulling his shirt back off you and stepped under the shower. You couldn’t help but cry out the pain in your head was back, You ran your hand through your hair and felt a sharp pain in your palm. Reaching back you pulled out a piece of mirror that had embedded itself in your scalp, dropped it and let your head back into the water again, Whimpering again as you did.

Daryl came crashing back into the bathroom “Y/N You okay?” “I'm okay” You stuttered. Not convinced he lingered in the doorway a moment more before leaving.

The pain had started to recede and you enjoyed the water cascading over you. Once you had managed to wash the blood from your face and hair you turned the water off and stood naked in front of the mirror assessing the general damage to your body. This isn’t something you usually liked to do but it was time for the denial to be lifted and face facts.

Daryl heard the water shut off and when you hadn’t reappeared after a few minutes he went to check on you again and thats where he found you on the floor sobbing holding your chest. He rushed down to you and scooped you into his arms still naked and shaking from the cold.

“It’s okay Y/N I got ya now, I got ya always” He carried you to the bed pulling the towel with you and wrapping it around you. He lay you down on the bed stepping back. He finally saw the marks he had been searching for on you for weeks and he wished he hadn’t. They were everywhere old and new mixed together indistinguishable from each other.

He dropped to his knees at the side of the bed burying his head into the mattress at the side of you. “Y/N please tell me what to do, Ya want him dead. I’ll do it, Ya wanna leave, I’ll take ya. Ya want to be alone, Ya can have my home. Please tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll get it Ya.”

You looked at him sleepily “I just want to sleep” He looked at you standing and pulled the covers over you. “Okay, Ya need me shout and i'll be upstairs” You looked at him and panicked “No please don’t leave me” He ran his hand through his hand and was suddenly nervous again.

“Ok, Y/N move over” He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you toward him, You nuzzled into his shoulder. “Thank you” You murmured groggily and fell into a deep sleep instantly feeling safe.

Daryl lay by her side all night. Watching over her as she slept. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from the day's events, He looked over at you worried as you started mumbling and thrashing in your sleep. He tried to calm you by pulling you closer to him and whispering “It’s ok Y/N Your safe now.” Her mumbilings became more frantic “noo, Pleasee stop” Daryl’s heart felt like it was breaking as he held you.

Suddenly you jolted upright sitting up with the ghost of a scream on your lips. You jumped up and dove across the room panicking, Collapsing into the corner hyperventilating. He was on you in seconds pulling you close again. Telling you it was going to be okay. It took you a minute to realise you really were safe and you relaxed into his arms allowing him to carry you back to the bed.

You stayed by Daryl’s side for the next few days, They had been amazing, Everything was starting to feel like it was before Spencer; Spencer had been staying with Deanna while he recovered from the beating Daryl gave him which gave you a chance to clear everything of yours out of there. You were offered the house but with the memories you had there you couldn’t stay and besides you were much happier in that little basement room with Daryl than you had been in that huge house with him.

Rick had agreed with Deanna that Spencer was to stay in her home and be monitored for as long as it took to see he had learnt his lesson and would stay away from you. The alternative being that Rick would let Daryl do what he wanted to him or he would be banished from the town. Depending on the severity of his possible future actions.

Daryl hadn’t said a word to you about that day since, You can understand him not mentioning Spencer or those events but he hadn’t brought up the kiss or made any form of move since. You had come to think that he hadn’t meant it and that was just him trying to get through to you.

You really wanted to hate him for it, For making you believe someone as amazing as him could possibly care about you but Maybe Spencer was right, Maybe he was the only one who could ever love you. The thought was painful but just as you had decided to face facts about what he had done to you, You also needed to face facts about yourself and your limitations.

It was only when you were both alone in bed that he ever slightly lowered his walls, When he would open his arms to you in bed and you would both snuggle while you slept. You would always wake alone with Daryl either working in the garage or out running jobs for Rick.

One morning you woke up alone as always and found Daryl in the kitchen waiting for you, Trying to keep the grin from your face “Good morning!” You said brightly. He looked at you exhausted. “Mornin Y/N, I have to go on a run may be a day or two, You gonna be okay?”

“Oh, Yeah sure. Do you need me to find somewhere else to stay while you're gone?” The happiness at seeing him already dissipating. “Course not, Me and Carol want ya here. Ya welcome for as long as ya want.” He then muttered “I don’t ever want ya to leave” under his breath.

“Thank you Daryl, You don’t know how much this means to me, so…? when are you leaving?”

“Uhm, Now actually. Just wanted to wait for ya to get up to let ya know, Anythin ya want me to keep an eye out for?” “No Daryl it’s ok. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone got hurt looking for something I wanted. The only thing I need is for you to come back to me, Unhurt…. Promise?” He smiled briefly at her taking her hand in his. “I promise Y/N. I promised to protect ya, It’ll take more than a few walkers to stop me keepin tha promise”

Cuddling up in bed that night you knew it would be difficult to get any sleep, It always was when he left even before when you were with Spencer. You could never quite get a decent night's sleep until Daryl was home safe. You snuggled up to this pillow on his side of the bed breathing in his scent imagining his arms were wrapped around you safe.

Half way through the next day he returned. Daryl and the group came flooding through the doors of the infirmary carrying an unfamiliar woman between them, She was passed out with blood covering her clothes. Wishing you had a moment to greet him, You and Denise flew into action looking over the woman and cleaning any wounds you could find. Once you were done and determined that she hadn’t been bitten and had no life threatening wounds, You stepped back “Is it ok if i leave you to finish?” You asked denise. She looked to you and then to Daryl pacing at the other end “Yeah” She nodded. “Can you fill those guys in?” You nodded back at her and walked over to them.

“Hey, She’s ok. No severe injuries Just a bit dehydrated and probably hungry. Shouldn’t be too long before she wakes up.” A few relieved mutters were shared around the group before they departed for home to see their loved ones. You ran into Daryl’s arms and then held him in front of you checking over him for any cuts or marks that may need to be seen to. “m’ok , Really Y/N I’m ok jus’ tired. Can we go home? I needa talk to you” He looked at you desperately.

You nod your head taking his hand and following him towards your house.

As you were walking you could feel his fingers nervously gripping your hand. He stopped suddenly and stepped in front of you. Reaching his hand to your jumper brushing his fingers over your sunflower, You looked at him with sudden realisation. “It was you?”

“I heard ya with Carol that day, I couldn’t let your birthday go by and not get ya anything” He blushed looking away from you.

You reached up and caressed his face gently pulling his face to face you again. “Thank you Daryl. That was incredibly sweet.” You pushed yourself up towards him pressing your lips to his softly, He moaned and tangling his fingers into your hair pulling you closer.” Just like last time it was over far too quickly, He started pacing in front of you.

“No.no.no” he muttered “I can’t do this, It will take me weeks to forget again” He started pacing faster, his hands ripping at his hair.

“Daryl stop!” You grabbed his hands pulling them out of his hair. “Please look at me! Why can’t you do this?! You told me you loved me for fuck sake and then act like it never happened! Tell me why!!” You were almost screaming, battling with your tears. How could he turn a moment so perfect into such a mess!

“I’m 24 years older than ya, Did ya know that Y/N? I’m a filthy good for nuthin OLD redneck, I aint go no right to be with someone like ya! No matter what i want!!” He stopped pacing and looked straight at you again.

“I don’t care about your age! Why would that matter? What about what I want Daryl? You told me that night if i wanted anything you would get it for me, Well i’ve decided. I WANT YOU! It’s always been you!” Your tears are flowing freely now. The nosey neighbours of Alexandria started to gather at the noise, Trying to tune them out and you turned back to Daryl. “WELL? Don’t go all broody Dixon on me now!”

He looked torn between pain and anger at the scene you two were now creating. Still not speaking to you.

“You know what, Fuck you Dixon” You put your hands up to the sunflower pin he had got for you, You pulled it off and threw it at his head. He caught it easily, finally breaking his silence. “Ya got any idea what i went through to get this for ya!” He charged back at you, stopping inches from you.

“Ya should care, I’m no good Y/N, I don’t deserve ya” He gazed into your eyes those brilliant blue eyes misting over. “That ain't your decision or your place to tell me what i deserve. It’s mine” You glared at each other for a moment before he couldn’t take it any longer he gripped your face again slamming his lips to yours now, His tongue urgently pressing against your lips begging for entrance. You opened your lips moaning as his tongue touched yours and took charge of it, Kissing you furiously. You moaned into his mouth feeling your eyes rolling back in your head.

You had never had anyone kiss you like this before, Everything else melted away all of your anger, pain and fear. All that was left was him, Glorious, Gorgeous all consuming Daryl fucking Dixon.

You heard Carol chuckle behind you “Hey guys, You might wanna think about getting a room. You’ve got quite an audience here” Daryl smiled into your lips as he pulled away. He turned to Carol “Ya know what i think we will” Quick as a flash he had bent down and grabbed you behind your knees throwing you over his shoulder and running with you back to your home and down into your favourite place. When he had locked the door he turned to the bed with you still over his shoulder and put you down gently on the bed.

“Did ya mean it Y/N? Ya really want me?” He looked down at you searching your eyes for an answer. “I have never wanted anything more in my life, I want you. I want all of you and i want it right now Daryl” You replied feeling the hunger from him burning you.

Still standing over you, His eyes growing dark. “Lie down” He growled..

Grinning you kicked off your shoes and pushed yourself up the bed laying your head on the pillow. He followed you shadowing your body with his pressing himself to you before leaning close to your face lips barely brushing yours.

“Tell me what else ya want Y/N…..Exactly what you want”

You looked at him nervously for a second seeing the lust in his eyes matching yours you decided to just go for it.

“I want your hands….Everywhere” As you spoke you felt his hands grab your hips moving slowly to your stomach then up and under your top. Frustratingly slowly, Your breath hitched as he finally pushed his hands to your breasts gripping them roughly.

He pulled his hands away and back down to the bottom of your shirt grabbing it and pulling it upwards you raised your arms and let him remove it fully. He reached back down to you, His hands quickly unclasping your bra and throwing it harshly at the wall. His hands were back to your chest, Rolling your nipples with his thumbs.

You moaned arching your back pushing your chest into his hands. He hit his hips into yours grinding on your core. “Oh shit Darylll” You moaned feeling how hard he was for you.

He moved his mouth to your chest feverishly kissing your breasts and nibbled on your nipple making you squirm. Daryl then kissed a line down your stomach to your hips stopping to bite each one gently.

Every touch was heaven, Every time he dragged his tongue over your soft skin it was like a thousand shocks spreading across your skin. He was undoing the zip on your jeans now, You lifted your hips to help him pull them off you. He settled between your legs pushing them wider open and running his finger over the material of your gratefully black lace underwear.

Daryl looked up at you. Lifting and turning you slightly to look at the back “Holy Shit ya need to wear these all the time!” Still without removing your panties he pressed his lips to your sensitive nub while his fingers scooped the lace out of his way. His fingers then moved to your opening feeling how dripping wet you had gotten for him.

“Shit Y/N that cuz of me?” He moaned as he pressed his lips back to your clit starting slowly circling his tongue around it and sucking gently. “Oh godd” You had never even get close to going down on you before, It was everything and more. You had to fight yourself from coming undone too soon, You wanted to savour every delicious second of this.

He plunged two fingers into you eliciting an even louder moan from you “Oh goddd Daryl! Please don’t stop, Don’t ever fucking stop.” You moaned between breaths. His mouth and fingers started moving quicker as he could feel your walls tightening on him and your breaths growing shorter, Panting for him. You couldn’t take any more and erupted feeling the wildfire of sensations running across your skin, Screaming his name. He slowed his fingers allowing you to ride your orgasm out onto him. When you slowed he put his lips further down on you licking every drop that gushed out of you. You entwined your fingers into his hair gently pulling him up towards you.

“You taste so sweet baby, I could do that all day” Your eyes grew hard as you felt your core growing hot again and the wetness returned at his words.

He leant down and gave you another kiss, You put your hands to his chest and pushed him onto his back on the bed.

“Your turn baby, I've been dreaming of getting my lips around you” You purred. “But first i need to see you, The man i’ve been dreaming of all this time” Moving your hands to his buttons he nodded at you briefly watching you crawl over him almost naked.

You quickly pulled his shirt off of him, Roaming your hands all over his tight muscled chest and down over his thick arms. Biting your bottom lip trying to memorise every single inch.

“If ya don’t stop biting that lip woman i ain't gonna give you a chance for those dreams to happen” He winked at you eyes blazing. You quickly dropped your hands to his jeans, Ripping his jeans and boxers down together and throwing them without a thought. You knelt between his legs licking your lips as you saw the size of him. He must’ve been at least 9 inches long. Your eyes went wide with need as you wrapped your hands around it you brought your mouth to his tip slowly licking the dew from the eye. Moving your hands you licked him from base to tip and swirled your tongue around the tip.

“Fuck Y/N Get that cock in your mouth now” He demanded. You didn’t need telling twice! You lowered your lips over him, Sheathing your teeth and pushing most of him in your mouth moaning as you felt his huge length hit the back of your throat.

“Y/N no gag reflex? Oh god how did i get so lucky” He groaned putting his hands into your hair and pushing your head back down. You choked as your mouth hit his base, your eyes watering, You hummed to vibrate your throat on his length before pulling up again. It was your turn to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head “Fuck Y/N fuckkkk Your mouth’s incredbile” You could feel your pressure building as you watched him fall apart under your lips. You bobbed your head faster and faster over him.

“Oh shit, Stop Y/N I’m gonna cum ” He moaned looking down at you seeing you had no intention of stopping. He started thrusting into your mouth meeting your lips in perfect time. It wasn’t long before he exploded down your throat holding your head down to his hilt while he emptied his load straight into your stomach. When he released your head you pulled off slowly then licked his full length clean swallowing every drop.

He watched you in wonder “Come here Y/N” You crawled back up him straddling his hips staring down at him sweetly. “Ya soooo fucking good at that” You brought your lips to his hungrily biting his bottom lip and started to grind your core onto him. You both moaned into each other's mouths enjoying the friction. You could already feel him below you growing harder again by the second.

“I need to feel you baby” You moaned into his lips. Daryl pushed himself upright and pulled you with him as he sat up against the bed head. Daryl put his hands under your hips lifting you up and positioning you over his cock, Swiftly moving your panties to the side he started to lower you on to him.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders holding your weight as you tried to fit more of him into you.

“Yesssss, So tight Y/N”. He groaned trying to push further. His eyes locked yours and saw you were struggling; he held you in place for a moment. “Ya ok?”

“I’m good, You're just so big.The biggest i ever…. It hurts a little” Softening his gaze He kissed you softly. “Let me help ya with that. He brought his mouth to your nipple swirling and nipping here and there while his hand snaked its way to your clit again following the same circle as his mouth, You could feel yourself getting wetter and able to take more of him in. You cautiously tested it out moving your hips slowly up and down until he had filled you fully. You thought he had felt good before it was nothing on this. Pure unadulterated ecstasy. You started moving faster, becoming more confident with the lack of pain.

Soon you were bouncing wildly onto his length screaming his name as he quickly brought you to another earth shattering orgasm. He brought your mouth to his kissing you swiftly “Shh baby ya know how thin these walls are. Carol & everyone on the street will be listening to ya!”

“Mmphh, I don’t fucking care let them hear how good my man is fucking me” You rode your high out enjoying every second when you slowed again Daryl lifted you again standing up with you still skewered on him, Carrying you over to the wall beside the door he slammed you into it. Bucking his hips into yours furiously.

“Y/N I’ve been waiting all ma daym life for a girl like you” He pushed his lips back to yours again. You melted into his lips his words dampening you for the third time, You hadn’t even known it was possible for someone to turn you on so much, To make you want them with every fibre of your being.

Daryl started panting faster now sweat dripping off of his glistening muscles, You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he jackhammered into you harder and harder each time.

“Ahhhh” You screamed “That’s it baby….Right there....Your cock is filling me so fucking good. Cum in me Daryl i need it”

“Oh fuck Y/N Ya so fucking tight, Ya fuckin incredible, I’m gonna cum for you Y/N”

You both hit your highs at the same time, You screaming his name into the air, eyes rolling backwards and him sinking his teeth into your shoulder exploding deep into you. You collapsed into his chest seeing stars as you felt him pulsing inside you, Your tight pussy milking him of every drop.

Panting Daryl carried you back to the bed laying you down gently and collapsing with you, He leant forward and pressed sweet loving kisses on your lips.

You curled into his chest exhausted, Looking up at him with pure love in your eyes.

“By the way, What you said that day….” He looked at you puzzled brain still cloudy coming down from his climax. He murmured into your hair. “What baby?”

“Well...I love you too. I always have” Daryl smiled into your hair. He chuckled “Well what a relief, How could i have ever known otherwise”

You jabbed him in the ribs gently “Hey, Not fair!” He pulled your face up to his and stared lovingly into your eyes.

“Ya know i love ya Y/N” His eyes grew serious. “I’d do anything for ya, I’d die for ya even”

Your lips met his in a sweet kiss. You couldn’t believe he was finally yours, Allll yours.

You snuggled into his chest feeling him tighten his arms around you and fell into a relaxed deep sleep.

Next Chapter ---->

475 notes · View notes

aetheternity · 3 years

Note

Hello! I’ve read your work and fallen in love! I don’t know if your requests are open, but I really like the Armin x you x Levi post you wrote🥰 may I please request a smut of this? Thank you!

First of all thank you! I'm so glad you're in love with my work. 😊 Second of all I'm sorry this took a while I got sick and writing smut while being sick is honestly disgusting. Plus I recently fell in love with Saiki K and have been binge watching it . 🤭 N e ways! Hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: Polyamory, threesome, Nsfw content.

Ok you'll be honest with yourself four years ago you didn't expect to be as happy as you are now.

After you'd grown sick of your living arrangement with your parents. You'd left that life behind. Moving into the small empty bedroom your best friend since your last year of middle school had open in his surprisingly tiny apartment.

And when you said tiny. You meant tiny.

Some rooms in the apartment weren't even big enough for someone to stand in with their arms outstretched. Not to mention a couple of your nights were spent huddled next to Armin on the couch with a huge blanket around your bodies because the heat randomly shut off.

You'd think a situation like that would be worse. But weirdly enough it had been the best for both of you as your relationship had always had a sort of looming sexual tension that went unexplored.

Long lingering touches to your waist got just a little bit longer while trying to squeeze past you in the bathroom. "Sorry I just need my brush." Armin would whisper. Warm palm against your hip. The ghost of his pelvic bone so close yet so far away. Just the realization making you arch in his grasp. You'd hold his gaze and in the back of your mind you could watch the soft slither of his tongue as it wet his gorgeous pink lips so many times over.

Of course it escalated with neither of you ever saying a word about your feelings. You spraying water from the sink on a shirtless Armin during a heat wave that just wouldn't let up as he walked into the kitchen wearing only grey sweatpants. (Yup.. only sweatpants.) The way they hung so low on his hips practically begging for your tongue to stretch across the expanse of his pelvis.

Him hugging you tight around the waist for literally any reason he could think of. (And he found a new reason everyday.)

And then it escalated a little further.. you pulling back the shower curtain to "complain" about him eating your leftovers. Him pulling you into his lap while the two of you watched tv.

And one day it just ended. And by ended it meant you two opened a bottle of wine on New Years and the ball wasn't the only thing that dropped. He had you laying ass up, legs spread and pussy sobbing as he rocked your hips for eight fucking hours with no stop. Did that table break? During hour five but Armin managed.

And then you guys moved. After a mutual agreement that the two of you were aware of each other's feelings and wanted to be together. You'd both managed to pool enough money together to afford a bigger place with two bedrooms. One unused and one that was immediately broken in with Armin over stimulating you the second the boxes were halfway unpacked.

Fast forward to a man named Levi moving in across the hall, him developing feelings for you over a long period of seeing you daily thanks to his best friend absolutely adoring you and constantly inviting herself into you and Armin's home.

After a while you'd started picking up on the signs of his affection too. His long glances that sometimes didn't even break when you looked back at him. The little gifts that began to show up at your door. The way he'd bring over food when he knew Armin wasn't home.

Once you'd started to develop feelings too Armin allowed you a night. One night to see if those feelings were actually real and what they might mean. Cue a night of carriage rides, roses (lots and lots of roses), stargazing and a kiss that damn near floored you and it was more than one night.

Two nights and Levi had had you on his couch with him snuggled in what would soon become your favorite blanket. Three nights and Levi had you eating his mom's homemade spaghetti. And by a week you were begging for Levi to fuck you harder, fingers shaking on his white tiled kitchen floor. His relentless thrusts still causing your thighs to tremble hours after.

He looked so lost in bliss in a way you'd never seen him before and you hugged onto him so tight you didn't even go back to Armin that night. Just curled up under your favorite blanket on his couch with his cock nestled deep inside you. His kisses littering your face till the moment you fell asleep.

It was definitely a cause for fear. An unrelenting kind and you sat down on the couch with Armin the next day explaining how deeply you loved them both. Only to be shocked when he brought up the topic of polyamory. It definitely shocked you a ton when Armin agreed to it after some explanation of his own feelings but the real surprise was Levi explaining how he'd also thought about it and would be up for it.

And thus began the beautiful bloom of a poly relationship after him and Armin had gotten better acquainted. You know after you guys all moved because Levi hated living in the apartment.

The three of you left to live in a gorgeous house. (For once you were living in a place with more than one floor and an island in the kitchen.) A place you'd been calling home for over a year now.

~~~~

Your breath hitched soft moans stuttering off your lips. You don't even remember who started it but here you and Armin were, his breath tickling every bit of your face with sweet languid kisses. One hand brushing over every curve you possessed while the other was softly brushing in between your pussy lips.

Your body perched in his lap as he sat against the headboard. Pillows scattered around the two of you as you writhe and begged for more of his touch.

You were probably drawing blood where you were grasping his shoulders but you couldn't even begin to think about it. Armin's warm breath tickling your lips in a soft chuckle. The tips of his fingers softly caressing your clit as you let out little whimpers of pleasure.

"You promise you'll moan nice and loud for daddy's fingers?" He asked, closing the distance between your lips with a much slower kiss.

"Yes." You could feel his nail brush inside and you almost buried his fingers but his harsh grip on your ass paused your movements. Your thighs shook and you rubbed your forehead against his. Leaned into his broad chest with both hands. "Please daddy.."

"Good girl."

With one more small kiss he laid you out flat on the bed free hand coming up to squeeze your areola. With a tap of your outer thigh you spread for him watching the way his spit dribbled off his lips and directly onto your already wet hole. The mixture making a much wetter sound as he pumped two fingers fully inside.

With a gasp you yanked the sheets hard, almost squeezing your thighs together. His fingers curling, snatching your breath away. The bed creaked a little as he repositioned himself, stomach flat against the sheets with his mouth on your thighs. Spreading a soft array of little open mouthed kisses.

"A-Armin.."

"Keep your ankles in the air, love. I don't wanna punish you tonight." He breathed

You sucked in a breath, reaching out to hold your ankles. Almost immediately you felt embarrassed by the high pitched moan that fell off your lips at the first long slide of his flat tongue over your pussy lips.

And then right in between them in a beckoning motion over your clit that had you biting into your lip. The smile on his lips so evident over your core.

You lifted your head in time to watch the slow drip of more of his saliva stretch between your clit and his bottom lip. Tongue immediately outstretched with eyes drawn to your features as he lapped it back up again.

With his free hand he spread apart your pussy lips a little further giving your clit an almost harsh knead with his thumb. The friction making you cry out and almost drop your legs onto his back.

His fingers carefully slipped out of you to your own dismay. The slow drag against your walls almost painful, that is until his tongue was sliding in to replace them. Giving your inner walls a massage that made your gaze fall white.

You felt him hum. Sweet vibrations flowing through your cunt as he slurped down every bit of your juices. His arms snaking around your legs to yank you so much closer as he pushed his tongue impossibly deeper.

"Daddy.." You begged

"Shh, keep moaning for me baby.." He hummed, flicking your clit with his thumb.

You obeyed with an arch that probably could've launched you off the bed if not for Armin's tight hold. Your eyes squeezed shut, brain going completely empty.

"Such a good girl." He breathed "So good for daddy."

The pad of his tongue stretched over both sides of your lips with little nibbles. Sucking the skin into his mouth roughly. You could feel his eyes on you, practically see those bright blues pop with lust as he pressed his tongue back inside with languid thrusts.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ear and you felt the hold he had on your legs loosen. His two fingers delving and sliding back into your warm fluttering cunt. The overwhelming pleasure forcing your hands back on the bed holding out for dear life.

"Daddy.. daddy please.." You cried

"Getting close baby?" When you nodded vigorously he smirked. "Come on baby almost there." He hummed

He sped up his tongue, fingers stretching you open quickly adding another. Your breath caught with a high pitched cry that left tears flowing over your cheeks. An endless chorus of his name flooding off your lips. His own moans sending vibrations through your core.

Your stomach tightened, toes curling in the air as you tried and failed to steady your breathing. One of your hands unfurled itself from the sheets now sticking to your sweat soaked body. Carding it in the beautiful blond locks between your legs.

"Baby.. baby I'm about to-" He sucked your clit into his mouth and your eyes went hazy, head falling back.

"Finish baby, come on.." He whispered

Your lips spewed curse words between every breath lost. When his fingers tapped smoothly against your g-spot you knew that was it for you. And with one last shudder you came around his fingers, screaming his name as your orgasm racked over you in a loud burst.

And he licked up every drop, nose buried to collect it all like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

"A-Armin.." You shuddered body flush and hazy.

His fingers feel wet, a combination of your pussy juices and the sweat between both your bodies. You slowly blinked in the darkness combing strands of his hair back as your lips made contact. The mixture of your taste and his on your tongue, in an almost overwhelming way.

You tensed under him. Hands stretching over every part of him you could reach only for him to back away a bit. With your nails still gently grazing over your back he pressed his damp forehead into yours, fingers sweeping over every bit of bare skin.

With barely any warning he hoisted you to your feet next to the edge of the bed. And you reached out for his shoulders as he slipped his boxers down his legs. Inching himself back up to the headboard.

"Take a seat." He gestures, laying back.

He's got a hand around your waist in seconds. His cock soon just below you, so so close to where you wanted it. Where you needed it so badly.

Your knees came down on both sides of him, carefully administering your weight evenly until every inch of his hot cock was stretching you open. His tip soon resting firmly against your cervix like it always did and you both relinquished a sweet gasp.

"F-fuck.. so full.." You huffed

It felt like it had been so long when in reality it'd probably only been a week. And yet you were moaning like you'd been starved of him. Rocking your hips like he'd punished you with no cock for months.

Suddenly his arm wrapped itself around your waist again. He hoisted you up with a strong hold moaning directly in your ear as he thrusted up into you like it was the first time. His knees pressing your thighs open.

A hiss falling off your lips as he kissed over your shoulder and collar. Hands squeezing both your breasts like they were his personal stress balls.

You hadn't been aware of how hard Armin was going until the rough knocks of the bed hitting the walls finally began to settle in your ear. But you could barely care Armin's cock was hitting every spot inside of you and your leg was starting to twitch where it was forced outward.

His breath grew more ragged with every thrust. Sweat dripping off your forehead onto his. His sweet murmurs of praise turning you on even harder.

"Love, you take me so well.. You're doing so amazing…." He moaned

You leaned your head into him, feeling that sweet familiarity deep in the pit of your stomach. You reached around to the back of his head, yanking a little rougher than intended on his scalp.

The uneven slaps of your skin meeting managed to keep the two of you distracted until the sound of the door practically slamming into the wall shook you both to a halt.

Levi's dry sigh filled the once noisy bedroom. "Do you two have to make so much noise? I'm busy with a work project."

Despite Levi's gripes Armin angled his cock back towards your g-spot barely grazing it but it was enough to force a little mewl from your lips.

He laughed, pulling you a little closer. "Mm sorry Levi. Didn't know we were being so loud."

There was a small glint in Levi's eyes. The quick dart of his pupils to where you and Armin were joined and then back up to your face putting a devious grin on your face.

"You should take a break, daddy." You said

"Tch." Levi huffed, "This thing needs to be done by tomorrow. I don't have time for this."

You reached out for him with one arm. An arm that unsurprisingly didn't even reach close to him from his stance near the bedroom door. By this point Armin's thrusts were going at almost the same pace as before. Not as rough but enough to resume the gentle rock of the bed.

You let out a soft moan as Levi took the bait, slowly walking over to the bed. His finger carding affectionately through your tousled hair. He leaned in, pecking your kiss swollen lips.

If there was anything you knew for a fact about Levi it was that he always had a hard time saying no to you.

To be completely honest it didn't surprise you that Levi was already more than a little hard. Though it did surprise you how easily he gave in today. Watching with unchanged expression as you pulled his belt from the loops and buckle, undoing it with a light clatter which quickly followed the almost inaudible sound of his zipper being pulled down..

You let out a relaxed hum, lip pressed between your teeth at the sight before you. His thick cock poking out over the hem of his underwear. You grasped at the sheets with one hand a little shaky as you slipped his boxers down over his ass until they pooled at his ankles.

Armin slipped his hand under you right up against your stomach. Levi immediately followed suit already knowing what he was doing. He stepped over to the edge of the bed as Armin laid you down on your stomach. Levi's wet tip dangling in front of your lips. Before you could even register it Armin had your hips in the air slipping all the way back inside with a loud gasp.

Meanwhile you were wetting your lips. Hand curving up and down the length of his dick. You inched forward on your elbows to slowly surround Levi's dick in the warm confines of your mouth. The hiss he let out sending shivers over your spine.

"How's it feel? I know how much you love taking two dicks." Levi grunted

Armin reached forward, tugging your hips in close with one hand. The other hand on your ass as leverage. Allowing him to ease out to his tip before slamming back inside. Your eyes rolling back with pleasure.

As if it wasn't already difficult enough to take Levi he wasn't even fully hard yet. Just expanding in your mouth as you coaxed your throat into relaxing enough to slide every thick inch down.

"I know that pretty mouth can do so much better than this." He reaches out with zero warning to grab a fist full of your hair. Yanking you forward with barely any restraint.

Though you must admit the sound that leaves his throat when he does is almost worth the tears pricking over your hollowed cheeks.

"Baby I'm so fucking close.. I'm gonna fill your pussy." Armin sighs, his hand comes down to wrap around the base of your throat angling your mouth into Levi's rough thrusts.

Your heart is hammering but you close your mouth as best as possible without biting to take Levi's cock. Already feeling the effects on your jaw as he presses in a little harder with a deep moan.

By now his cock is fully hard rocking you back into Armin with deep rough thrusts that almost make you gag.

"That's my g-irl.." Levi grunts, even though they're small his nails dig into your scalp so roughly you could swear you felt something trickling down to the back of your neck.

You grip the bed sheets with both your toes and fingers, the creaking around you unmistakable.

"I'm cumming.. I'm cumming!" Armin cries out and you'd honestly give anything to see his gorgeous blue eyes roll back and the little smile that curves against his lips as he climaxes.

You finish just a couple seconds ahead of him. Eyes unfocused where they roll into shut. Little sounds muffled by the thick dick stretching open your throat. The feeling of Armin's cum flooding your walls makes you whimper and he lets out the softest moan as his orgasm slowly whittles away.

Your gaze soon fixes on Levi only to be met with the prettiest tint of pink brushed right up against his cheeks. His eyes pressed tightly closed, lips parted over every harsh breath.

It didn't take long for the sweet drag of Armin's cock to begin again. His light touches to your spine making you arch a little higher.

"You look so fucking pretty, you know that?" Armin mummered, cock slamming into your g-spot. "Doesn't she look gorgeous, Levi?" He asked with a little whimper.

Levi's eyes fluttered open a hint of a smirk cresting on his lips. "Like she's gonna.. pass out.." He combed your hair back again gripping it a little tighter forcing your head up. He paused at the back of your throat. "Can't take it baby? Want me to pull out?"

You grunted at every slam of Levi's dick until that all too familiar sound flooded your ears, followed by almost every curse in the english language.

"You're doing so well.. f-uck.." He moaned "Swallow my cum.. swallow it. I'm almost there.."

Levi hoisted his leg up against the already shaky foot of the bed using as much leverage as possible. His fingers tugging your head forward on every pump of his thick cock. Mixing with the loud gasps of Armin behind you as he also neared his end.

And with one more deep thrust Levi was spilling down your throat with a choked groan. Cock head nestled deep in your tired throat holding you still as his orgasm flooded from his body.

You were a little relieved when he stepped back allowing your jaw to relax. The still wet tip pressing sweetly against your lips.

"Such a pretty girl.." He said, so low you thought you imagined it.

"Switch with me." You heard Armin say

You sighed as his cock left you, feeling yourself immediately being flipped onto your back. His large hands coming down from where he now stood over you to perfectly envelop your breasts. Meanwhile Levi was pulling your hips close and sliding in as effortlessly as he always did.

"Levi!" You threw your head back

Armin smirked over you, his hands kneading a little rougher. You arched into his touch pressing the balls of your heels into Levi's back, pushing him just a little deeper-

God it was perfect. The feeling of his dick so much different from Armin's but honestly just as perfect. The moan you let out was downright pornographic and you pressed your head back into Armin's thigh.

One of Armin's hands came up to your face brushing aside your hair soaked in tears. "You look perfect. But I wanna make you more perfect."

He pulled himself off the bed, sliding a hand over your cheek. "I wanna paint your face baby. It's so perfect.." He mumbled already pumping his long dick over your face. "You'll let me right.." He whimpered

When he leaned in again it was to press a little kiss to your lips. "P-please.."

The curve of his lips made your heart flutter in your chest. "Mm.. let Levi see when I'm finished."

One of Armin's hands sat rather aggressively on the edge of the bed. And you could see the way every vein in his hand moved. Grip tightening a little with every pump of his cock, back and forth his knuckles practically ripping through his skin.

You gasped as Levi leaned over you, fat cock pressing into your G-spot. "Stop ignoring me." He grunted

He slid his teeth beneath your earlobe administering a barrage of sweet nibbles mixed with more aggravated bites.

"Levi.. Levi!!"

Armin gasped above you, "Almost there.." He moaned

A bright white was starting to take over your vision as you shut your eyes, mouth hung open for Armin's cock with absolutely no sound coming out as Levi continued to use your tired pussy.

Small huffs of fuck littering the air. You bore your nails into Levi's back and chest. His leg shaking against you as he pushed through his last thrusts.

"I-I'm.. I- shit!" Armin came first, missing Levi's head by a hair (literally) as ropes of hot cum plopped onto your face, you barely registering it as your own orgasm hit you like a two ton truck. Levi's thumb coaxing small spasms from you through your clit.

Levi huffed, face scrunched, lip bitten and eyes shut as he came for the second time with a hard gasp.

The room went quiet for what couldn't have been any longer than 2 minutes before Armin was pulling himself up from where he'd slumped over the bed.

"Levi, look how sexy she looks with my cum all over her face." He cooed

It stuck to your eyelids as you blinked though ultimately chose to keep your eyes shut. You felt Levi's small chuckle and the brief feeling of him slipping out of you to your own disappointment.

"Open baby." Armin said

As soon as you did his fingers slipped into your mouth. The salty/sweet residue of his cum littering your tongue. Quickly joined by Levi who swiped his thumb across your eyelids before pressing it into your mouth.

"How're you feeling?" Armin asked as you opened your eyes slowly.

You blinked in their faces standing above you with a small smile. "Tired."

"You can't sleep until you've washed off. It'll be better for you anyway." Levi replied, heading into the bathroom.

Armin quickly followed after carefully lifting your fatigued body off the bed. It took a couple minutes for Levi to get the temperature to perfect but once he did you slowly felt yourself sinking into perfectly warm water.

The soreness in every part of your body already beginning to dissipate as you leaned back against the edge of the tub.

"We did a number on you hmm?" Armin asked, carding your hair back.

"I'll make you some tea once you're cleaned up. Then we can cuddle under your favorite blanket." Levi said

"Thank you guys but I feel like I could fall asleep here." You say lifting your thighs for Levi to clean under.

"I promise I'll pay you back big time tomorrow." Armin replied, rubbing your arm with soap.

Your lips curled up deviously, "Now that I look forward to." You grab his chin pulling him into you, pecking his lips.

#armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x reader smut #armin smut #armin x reader smut #armin x reader #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #aot smut #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #armin arlert x y/n

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part VII

Summary: Spencer’s unresolved trauma catches up with him. Reader gets her heart broken.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, I’m so sorry guys

Warnings/Includes: brief mention of violence and details of a case; brief mention of prison, past trauma; a lil self-loathing and self-sabotaging

Word count: 3.8k

a/n: I knew that this was where this story was going from the very beginning. The dialogue is one of the first parts I had written. It still hurts. Relevant to the story: I operate with the understanding that the Jeid arc does not exist, which also means that Spencer never went to therapy in season 15. Also, huge thanks to @reidscanehand for beta-ing and just generally being my hype person!!!!

Song Recs: Shrike by Hozier; Better As a Memory by Kenny Chesney (don’t come for me if Spencer made playlists this would ABSOLUTELY be on there)

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer made his way to Emily’s office, ignoring the team’s eyes on him— varying degrees of understanding, concern, and uncertainty plain on their faces. As he reached the threshold, he paused for a second before moving into her line of sight. When he moved into the doorway, she looked up and waved him in. He closed the door behind him.

She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Spencer hesitated for only a split second, but it was long enough for her to notice. He lowered himself into the chair and met her eyes.

She folded her hands on top of the desk. “How are you feeling?”

He drummed his fingers across his kneecaps. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. She bit back a sigh and flipped open the folder in front of her. “I’m finished with the official report. I wanted to go over it with you before I submit it to the director.” She looked at him briefly before reading out the report. “On January 9th, our team pursued a lead at the residence of suspect Andrew Hurley. We divided into teams to cover the two entrances to the home, as well as the barn behind the house.”

Spencer fidgeted slightly in his chair and rubbed the tips of his fingers together. Emily continued, “During the raid, Supervisory Special Agent Spencer Reid became separated from the team and was ambushed and disarmed by the suspect in the barn.” She paused but didn’t look at him. “The team was unaware of the altercation for some time, during which Dr. Reid employed various approved restraint methods and was ultimately forced to utilize self-defense measures to preserve his own life. Consequently, Mr. Hurley sustained serious injuries.”

She did look at him then, a steady and unrelenting gaze that had him shrinking inside himself. “However, I have determined that Dr. Reid’s actions were justified in order to maintain his own safety.” She returned her eyes to the report. “Mr. Hurley was detained and treated for his injuries at Sebastian River Medical Center, and he is expected to make a full recovery. Based on the cognitive interviews and physical evidence, a grand jury hearing is scheduled for January 25th.” She brought her hands to rest on top of the report.

“I’ll sign off on it and deliver it to the director by the end of business today.” She let out the sigh she’d been holding back. “Reid.”

He pressed his mouth into a thin line, torn between shame and vindication. “Emily.”

“What happened in that barn was unacceptable. And I need you to recognize that.” Her eyes were back on him, a leader’s gaze boring into a weak link. “You went against a direct order. You put your life in danger unnecessarily, and in the process you endangered this entire team. Furthermore, you could have cost us the ability to close this case, to put Hurley away and bring justice to his victims.”

“It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

“No, it won’t.” Her tone told him that if it did, he’d have bigger problems than a meeting in her office. “My recommendation to the director is that you transition to your next mandatory leave cycle early.”

“I can handle—”

“It’s not a request. You’re on sabbatical starting tomorrow. That’s an order, and one you’d do well to follow.” She closed the file in front of her. “We’ll see you back in the bullpen on March 7th.”

“I don’t need more time off, Emily,” Spencer snapped.

He could see her grind her teeth together at his tone, but he couldn’t seem to care enough to feel contrite. She took a deep breath in through her nose, leveling him with a pointed look. “If Simmons hadn’t broken it up, you’d have killed Hurley on the floor of that barn.”

His mind snapped back to the lifeless eyes of Hurley’s victims— eight year old boys in shallow graves. Boys who died afraid, and in pain, and crying out for their mothers. His thoughts raced to the feel of Hurley’s throat under his arm, the crack of the zygomatic under his fist. Emily was right of course. If Matt hadn’t found them in the barn and dragged him up and off of Hurley’s nearly lifeless body, Spencer would have killed him without compunction.

“Reid.” The stern edge was gone from her voice. Spencer refocused his eyes on her face, now showcasing an underlying concern that made his stomach turn. “I’m not recommending another cycle of mandatory counseling at this time, although I reserve the right to require it moving forward. But… I’m asking you to take care of yourself. You’ve been through a lot in the last two years. More than a lot.”

“I said I’m fine,” he insisted, but there was less fire behind it this time.

“And I’m not saying you aren’t,” she countered. “But I am saying that the person in that barn… that wasn’t you. That was not the Reid that I know.” Emily tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “The Reid I know uses his intellect and empathy to see angles that the rest of us miss. He depends on the strength of his mind and his unwavering compassion to diffuse conflicts without violence. He invites his friends to foreign film showings and puppet theater.”

When he didn’t budge, she let out a long breath. “I want you to take the next fifty days to find that Reid and bring him back to us.”

...

Y/N dropped into her desk chair with a huff. They’d been back from winter break for two weeks, and she already needed another vacation. But tomorrow was Friday, and then they had a long weekend. She could make it through one more day.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, tired in the way that only kindergarten teachers fresh off a long break can be. She heard the click of Anita’s shoes coming before she even entered the room, and Y/N couldn’t stop the twitch of her lips.

“Dude. How is it only Thursday?” Anita flopped down into the plush Calm Corner chair.

“This has been the longest week of my life,” Y/N agreed. “My kids were off the chain.”

“There is so much drama in middle school right now,” Anita groaned. “I can’t keep up with all the tea, and you know how I love to stay up to date on the freshest brews.” She shot Y/N a look. “Speaking of, where’s the good doctor?”

“I think they’ve had a lot going on at work,” Y/N surmised. “I haven’t seen Mrs. Jareau in over a month.”

“Well, I’m getting antsy,” Anita complained. “Thought for sure you’d be going steady by now.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but feel a little impatient herself. If she’d known it would be this long before she’d see him again, she might have made a move when he’d volunteered. Then again, probably not. She sighed.

Her phone chimed with an email message, and she automatically swiped the screen open to read it.

Spencer Reid Re:

Are you free today? If you are, I’ll be at Soho.

...

Spencer sat at the table in the corner of the coffee shop. He sipped absentmindedly at his tea, almost gone cold. He hadn’t waited for a reply before leaving Quantico. He drove straight to the city, figuring he’d wait at Soho until he felt some semblance of calm returning to his body.

He didn’t know why he’d emailed Y/N, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted her to show up. Usually he’d talk to Penelope or maybe JJ. But he’d wanted to get as far from the BAU as possible, and he didn’t want to drag Penelope away from the colorful, safe corner of the world she’d created for herself. He didn’t want to fill it with all the tragedy she’d tried so hard to leave behind.

If Y/N did show, he was certain he could keep the conversation vague, focus on her and the classroom, ask her about her holidays. She wasn’t a profiler, didn’t know his tells well enough. She’d be none the wiser, and he’d have her warmth and presence to focus his energy on, if only for a few hours.

Every time the bell chimed, his eyes flew to the door, searching for her. He knew it was ridiculous. He’d only known her for one hundred and eleven days. Pragmatically, he knew she shouldn’t be the one he wanted to talk to. Realistically, he wasn’t planning to burden her with all of the mess of the past week, the past year, his entire life.

But in the six hundred and forty seven minutes he’d spent with her since September, he’d felt more like himself than he ever had. He was never afraid to be himself with her— the silly story voices, the ridiculous costume, the magic trick, the vulnerability about his mom. All of these pieces of himself were things he usually waited years to show people. It had taken her a matter of weeks to draw them out.

He couldn’t help but believe that if he wanted to, he could tell her everything. She’d know exactly what to say. She’d listen for as long as he could keep talking. She’d cover his shaking hands and wrap him up in the warmth of her spirit. She’d give of herself to guide him back to the person he used to be. She’d be more than willing to use her radiance to illuminate the dark so that he might have a little light again.

The bell sounded, and his eyes focused, and there she was. She was wrapped up in a puffed jacket, a bright blue scarf tied around her neck. Her nose was adorably red from the cold, and she rubbed her hands together as the door closed behind her. Her eyes found him immediately. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth, and she gave him an enthusiastic wave. And he knew that he was right about all of it.

She approached the table, unwinding her scarf. “Hi!”

“Hi.”

Her eyes flickered over his face, and then settled on his mostly empty mug. “I’ll get you a refill, and then we’ll catch up?”

He nodded, and she headed to the counter. There had been a part of him that thought she wouldn’t come, but of course she did. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, she liked talking to him. Even among his closest friends, he was often made to feel self-conscious about his tendency to ramble, but Y/N had literally asked him to. She sought him out, asked him questions, listened intently, and remembered things he’d told her. She was kind and thoughtful and genuine. Of course she came when he called.

She returned with two mugs, carefully setting them down on the tiny table. She unzipped and removed her jacket, hanging it on the back of her chair and revealing a crew neck sweater covered in tiny astronauts and rocket ships. When she sat across from him, her hands wrapped around the mug and her eyes met his.

“Hi.”

He couldn’t stop his lips from twitching, despite the events of the day. “You said that already.”

She laughed, and he felt the weight begin to lift. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen you in forever, so— I’m just making up for lost time.”

“Sixty one days.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s been sixty one days, eighty eight minutes, and approximately,” he looked at his watch, “fourteen seconds since we saw each other last.”

She laughed again, and his mouth completed its curve. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I like that you’ve been counting.” She let her chin come to rest in her hand, eyes studying his face. “How are you?”

He wanted to lie, but she was looking at him so earnestly that he mumbled out, “I’m managing.”

She mirrored the way he’d looked at her across this same table nearly three months ago. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” That was a lie, too. But asking her to meet him was enough of a burden.

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind at any point, let me know.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Until then, I can just regale you with all the kindergarten stories you’ve missed while you were out saving lives.”

And regale him she did. For almost an hour, he listened to her tales of love (budding crushes were taking over recess time), loss (the class pet— a stuffed zebra— had accidentally taken a swim in the Atlantic on a vacation to Florida), and lessons learned…

“So, in case there was ever any doubt, we are now painfully aware that we shouldn’t attempt to flush our underwear.” Y/N let out an exasperated laugh.

She’d been talking to him for fifty three minutes, and his heart already felt one thousand times lighter. “I’m really glad I wasn’t there for that one.”

“I really wish that was the only poop story I had.” She shook her head. “There are a lot of things they don’t tell you in grad school. I think there’d be a global teacher shortage if they warned you about the amount of bodily fluid management involved in teaching kindergarten.”

She toyed with the edge of her empty mug. He watched the movement of her fingers.

“Do you—”

She laughed and gestured for him to speak first.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

…

They ended up in Mitchell Park. The trees were bare and the grass was brown, but he was with her, and so it was beautiful.

They’d been walking in comfortable silence, when she asked, “Did you change your mind? About talking about it.”

Spencer put his hands into his pockets. “It’s, um— it’s kind of a lot.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got time.”

“I don’t mean— I mean, it would take some time to get through it all. But it’s also— it’s a lot.”

“We don’t have to.” He could feel her eyes on him. “Do you talk to— someone about it?”

“I talked with my unit chief today,” he answered.

“Okay. But— I mean, have you ever— talked to someone. Like, a professional.”

Spencer bristled slightly. Although he knew she wasn’t passing judgement, her question exposed the reality that she thought he could use it. “I’ve had some mandated counseling over the years.”

“Obviously it’s your choice whether you talk to someone or not,” she mused. “I just— I know that I’ve benefited a lot from seeing my therapist.”

Spencer was unsure of what to do with that information. Here she was, confessing that she went to therapy— sweet, lovely Y/N. In comparison, he wasn’t sure if even daily meetings with a counselor would be enough to tame the darkness that had grown and festered inside him over the years. That sometimes threatened to swallow him whole.

For a long while, there was only the crunch of the frozen ground beneath their feet. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an uncertainty about them that felt uncharacteristically heavy. He was hyper aware of her presence, and so he felt her pace slowing down before she came to a complete stop. He walked a few more paces before it became clear that she wasn’t planning to catch up.

He turned and saw that she’d taken a seat on one of the park benches. He carefully made his way to the bench, sitting beside her quietly. She didn’t look at him, but instead studied her fingernails intently. She cracked her knuckles once, twice, and then turned her body slightly toward him on the bench.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she hedged carefully. “I didn’t mean to tell you what to do, or like, imply that there’s anything wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. I just—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assured her. The way she looked at him then— like he was something fragile, delicate— made his eyes burn. He kept his voice even. “I know what you meant.”

She smiled, eyes crinkling and filled with something that felt familiar and far away all at once. “Good. I can’t have you out here thinking you’re anything less than wonderful.”

He couldn’t stop looking at her, attempting to solve the impossible cypher behind her irises. As he failed to decode it, his inability to read her blinded him to what came next. He missed the dilation of her pupils, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the increase of the beats in her carotid. So when she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, he was momentarily paralyzed.

Her lips were so soft against his slightly chapped ones, pressing with a perfectly gentle pressure. She brought her hand up to cradle his cheek, the pads of her fingers just barely ghosting the curls falling around his ear. She sighed into his mouth and pressed a little closer. He took one peaceful moment to bask in the realization of a desire he’d had for almost four months.

And then she swiped the very tentative tip of her tongue against the seam of his mouth, and his hands involuntarily wound into her hair, dragging her closer. He opened his mouth against hers to swallow her sweet little gasp. His grip on her hair tightened, and she let out the tiniest mewl, and like a switch had flipped— suddenly his mind was full of the darkness she’d spent the evening chasing away.

Y/N beneath him in the dark. Maeve in a pool of blood. His hands around Cat’s neck. His mother’s slap against his cheek. Max walking away from him. His fingers pressing the plunger on a dirty syringe. The slam of the door behind his father. Y/N calling out his name. A knife at his throat under a canopy of bones. Innumerable sets of lifeless eyes staring up at him. His life being snuffed out on the dirt floor of a shed. The clanging of metal bars and fingers ghosting over old bruises. Y/N looking at him with warm, loving eyes. The violent crack of bone underneath his fists. Y/N’s face, lovely and perfect— and then twisted in pain.

He broke away from her, releasing his hold on her hair and pushing her back into the bench. He took a second to gather himself before he dared to look at her. Her hair was tousled from his rough grip; her eyes were half-lidded and focused on him; her lips were red and kiss-bruised and turned up in a small, sweet smile.

And all at once he knew he had to hurt her, and it had to be now. Because what Cat had said about him was true. He might have escaped his mother’s illness, but he hadn’t been able to outrun the violence— and unlike her, he didn’t have the excuse of being sick. He had hurt people, and he had enjoyed it. He would have killed Hurley, and he would have slept soundly. He was no better than the men his team hunted.

Every time he thought he’d moved past it, that wickedness lurking just under the surface would grab him by the throat, choking everything else out. Emily’s directive rang in his ears. Find that Reid and bring him back to us. He knew who she was talking about. The problem was, he wasn’t sure that person still existed.

He was going to hurt Y/N eventually. Better to do it now, before things got too far.

“You’re Michael’s teacher,” he said, as evenly as possible.

Her smile faltered, and she pressed her lips together. He could still feel the phantom press of them against his own, and he was sure he’d never forget it. She cleared her throat. “You’re right, you’re totally right. I, um— I won’t be in a few months, and maybe then—”

“You don’t even know me,” he interrupted.

Now there was confusion in her eyes. That much he could read. She huffed out a small laugh. “I— I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

He looked directly at her. “Why? Because you read my bio on a university website? Because we got tea a couple times?” His voice sounded harsh, patronizing, and he hated it.

Her confusion shifted into shock, and he ignored the tug on his heart. “Are you serious?” she questioned, genuinely searching for a sign that he was joking.

“Dead serious.” He shrugged, and it felt like his bones were breaking. “You don’t really know anything about me, Y/N. If you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“Where— where is this coming from?” Her voice was small, close to breaking. He lined up the last nail on the lid of the coffin.

“Maybe I gave you the wrong impression. I’ve appreciated talking to you. Volunteering in your classroom was entertaining. But I don’t— I don’t see you that way.” It was a lie, and if he didn’t have such a practiced poker face, she might have seen through it. As it was, his poker face had helped get him banned from every casino in Vegas, so he watched her as he hammered the final nail. “You’re just Michael’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Oh.” The hurt flashed across her features— the furrow of her brow, the tightening of her mouth, the storm clouds in her eyes. “Well, I— I really read this wrong, huh?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“Yeah.” He put his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her, the desire to comfort her a strange juxtaposition to the pain he was intentionally inflicting on her. “I guess so.”

She opened and closed her mouth twice before taking a deep breath and nearly whispering, “Okay. Well. I’m— I’m gonna go.”

She brushed some imaginary dust from her pants and then stood. She turned to him, and he waited for her to explode— to scream and curse at him. But it didn’t come. She didn’t look at him at all. “Um— yeah. I’m gonna go.”

He didn’t say anything, and he knew she’d take his silence as indifference. But he had to keep his mouth shut, because if he didn’t, he’d beg her to stay. He’d tell her every single random piece of information he had stored in his brain. He’d tell her that he loved her from the moment he watched her help a child pick a solution from a pencil box. He’d tell her that he only ever dreamt of two things these days— her or the lives he didn’t save. He’d tell her every single one of his deepest, darkest secrets. He’d tell her that sometimes he was so afraid of himself that he could barely breathe. And if he told her all of that, she’d walk away anyway.

So instead, he watched her turn and start back up the path, hugging her arms around herself and swiping her cheek against her scarf.

When she disappeared over the slope of the path, he scrubbed his hands over his own damp face and let himself break.

———

Permanent tags: @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @eevee0722 @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin

Series tags: @spacedikut @uhuhuh @itsametaphorbriansblog @magenta145 @annesauriol @watermelongubler @ampal98 @meowiemari @mrsmyaweasley @mggsprettygirl @ceeellewrites @daybabyx @joalsglasses @chevyimpala00067 @misshale21 @ilzieah @froggybagels @gublersbooblers @matthcwgraygubler @takeyourleap-of-faith @mrs-dr-reid @flklrevrmre @andromedasstarship @joodeduarte

Broken tags: @saspencereid @this-is-gublerween

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid imagine #homoose writes #tmsidk

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christiandomme · 2 years

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warning: discussion of past and present real-life molestation of a child

Hello all, I have had a very rough morning and the words don’t quite want to come out of my mouth to discuss it aloud with my support network on this side of the screen so I though I could share it with my tumblr community.

My thoughts right now are on stages of healing.

I was sexually molested by a friend’s older brother when I was in lower elementary. I still remember the weather of the day perfectly. I remember the emotional hurt building, stuck in my throat, even though there was no physical pain.

I remember blaming myself for years.

I remember how he felt so powerful to child-me but looking back with the eyes of an actual adult, he was a child too.

His youth doesn’t erase the harm it did to me but I doubt he was a monster.

Today, I sat with a mom that believes her child is being molested by his father, her ex-husband. Part of the suspicion comes from her son sexually harming a younger boy and her son’s reasoning for why it was ok.

And as I sat with her and we planned the conversation with CPS and friends of the court and counselors… I had this feeling rising in my chest imagining a young boy, hurt by an older child, who will likely carry it in his mind and body for years.

He probably won’t ever know that his bogeyman was another child acting out what his father did to him.

It has been over 20 years for me. I almost never have nightmares anymore. But sometimes I’m blindsided and the memory of paralyzing terror knocks the breath out of me.

In college, I had a relationship with a guy that did not respect consent. They way I would freeze sometimes and my breathing would go shallow wasn’t taken as a no, even though I couldn’t get my vocal cords to cooperate. And the times I did say no, if I *really* wanted him to stop I would have pushed him away, he said.

It’s been over ten years since I last saw him and I do still have annual nightmares about him.

Trauma is rarely a one to one correlation of how it affects your mind and body. I can go weeks without actively remembering my past and there are days where every memory of being out of control of my body and my words tangle up together in my head.

I’ve been triggered in a fight with a friend about a completely unrelated topic because the sense of “my words are breaking/my feelings are out of my control/wrong/danger/wrong/fix it you can’t” lit up my memories of the other times I felt that way and I didn’t get out of the spiral for over 12 hours

Being restrained is one of my bdsm soft limits, which I think lots of folks could nod and say makes sense, but I recently had a day where my mom had placed her hand on my wrist and let her fingers curl around, and I had to ask her to remove it because it felt too much like being restrained.

On the issue of healing from this specific kind of trauma my good day:bad day ratio is at least 15:1, maybe better.

And today is not necessarily about being unhealed, but it is about grief, and empathy, and wanting to break cycles, and the bigness of my feeling which took me by surprise.

I don’t have a moral to this story, just a lot of clanging in my head right now. But thank you for listening. Be gentle to yourself and others ❤️

#abuse survivor #abuse recovery #emotional wellness #get to know me #really real life #recovery #healing is a journey

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repurpose-yourself · 2 years

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Santa’s Objectified Helpers (5/7)

“Did you think it was clever to feed that homeless man bad food and make him sick?” Chris asked, standing over a man from the Naughty List.

Walker smirked while fighting the rope restraints holding him down, “Yes. Yes I do. Every damn day that man is at the street corner asking for handouts.”

Santa shook his head, “Remorse would do you well in this situation.”

“I don’t have remorse for guys who leech off others. I didn’t get where I am now by doing that,” Walker replied, finally giving up.

“Ever wonder if the guy is down on his luck and truly needs help?” Chris asked, stepping away and leaning against his desk.

“That’s not my place to find out. He didn’t need to ask me for food and I don’t need his life story,” Walker shot back.

Chris sighed and turned away. Walker felt himself become weak before darkness took over...

Christmas was almost here. Cars and trucks rushed through the intersection a man by the name of Oscar worked almost everyday day. He had become a staple of the busy cross-roads and most of the daily drivers knew him by name. Not because they wanted to avoid him but because Oscar wasn’t impolite and unrelenting.

It was a stark contrast to other homeless that frequented intersections, often leaving motorists jaded.

That afternoon, a man approached Oscar, carrying a bag of food, “Hey Oscar. Today at lunch my order was made wrong. Instead of taking it back, I was allowed to keep it while a new round of food was made. Because of it, I thought you might like it.”

Oscar glanced up at the business man, truly thankful for the kind gesture, “Thank you so much. Bless you for this kind offering.”

The man sat down next to Oscar, who had been leaning against a cement wall, sitting on the sidewalk of a bridge overpass. He handed the food to Oscar, who immediately dug in, unable to hide the hunger pains any longer.

“So Oscar. Each time I see you at the stoplight, we never have enough time to talk. Tell me about your story. Why are you here?” the businessman asked.

Oscar’s hands opened the food bag and pulled out a wrapped burger. He fumbled with the paper until it was pulled off and revealed a double cheese burger with everything. He licked his lips and immediately took a bite, savoring a rare chance at a nice meal.

Once the wrapper was removed, Walker immediately awoke from an uneasy slumber. His vision was filled with Oscar’s face. He yelled at Oscar to get away, unaware the man’s hands were holding his newly transformed body. Walker then found himself moving closer to Oscar’s mouth. A wave of bad breath overtook Walker before the moist environment was forced upon him. Sharp teeth chomped down painfully, severing a part of his burger body.

‘What the fuck?!’ Walker screamed to himself.

He watched Oscar’s mouth chew, getting a glimpse of what left his body. A chunk of burger was all he saw, before it was chewed up and swallowed. Walker didn’t know what to think, beyond crying for help and trying to remove himself from Oscar’s grip.

“The pandemic,” Oscar replied, before taking another bite.

More of Walker entered Oscar’s mouth, another part of the burger being removed painfully, “The pandemic has been hard on many people. For a few months there I thought my job was going to be cut.”

Walker cried to himself, quickly coming to terms he had become Oscar’s food, “That was a year ago but things are looking up now. I lost everything and fell into a deep depression. But I have a job interview lined up tomorrow. I am so excited.”

The living burger returned to Oscar’s mouth, parting again in the most agonizing of ways, “That’s great Oscar! I mean it, man. What are you going to wear?”

By now, almost all the burger was gone. Bit by bit, Walker’s life was taken away and plunged deep into the homeless man’s mouth, “I don’t know. I don’t have much as it is anyway. I feel good about this interview but I need to look the part.”

“Say no more!” the businessman said, standing up, “I have to get back to work. But stick around here and in four hours or so I will come by to pick you up. We’re getting you a suit, cleaned up and ready for that interview.”

The second to last bite of Walker was violently taken into Oscar’s mouth and chewed thoroughly, “You mean it?! I... I don’t know what to say...”

Oscar started to tear up, preventing him from eating the last bite of the living burger.

“You’re too good of a man for me to let an opportunity like that pass by,” the businessman said, “I’ll see you later.”

Oscar watched the suited man turn and walk away. He felt such happiness at that moment. A bag of food and now the chance to clean up and look his best for the interview. Wiping a few tears away, Oscar placed the last piece of the burger in his mouth. Walker cried too but for a different reason. The homeless man the living food hated closed his mouth and started to chew, effortlessly ending one life to sustain his own...

#inanimate transformation #inanimate tf #inanimate object #nonconsensual tf #food tf #revenge tf #unaware tf

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rynnaaurelius · 3 years

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Titan’s Curse But Make It Time Loop: Nico di Angelo Edition

-Okay so I’m at work and not doing much and who wants to actually edit your shit drafts for your actual WIPs so that they’re less bad? No one, that’s who

-So I had an idea: The Titan’s Curse. Also known as the book where people start to die. It sucks to be a demigod in this book--for the first time in the original series, it really does.

-Not everything is fixed, not everyone is saved, and people start to have to make really tough decisions.

-So we fix it. Not by throwing Percy, or Annabeth, or Thalia, or, hell, even Bianca or Grover into the mix.

-Throwing the marginally more grown-up, more trained, and more knowledgeable demigods into the fire, who’d get everyone alive and safe by the third time ‘round? Nah.

-We’re making Nico fix this.

-Because here’s the thing about Nico di Angelo: Sure, he grows up to become a major badass, the Ghost King, so on and so forth. But not yet.

-For now, Nico is baby, a ten-year-old whose experience with any kind of fighting consists of one (1) Capture The Flag game and who’s still half-reliant on Mythomagic to explain what the fuck is happening.

-He’s also got the worst knowledge makeup possible! He knows he’s a son of Hades, which is bad, he knows to stick monsters with the pointy end of swords but nothing else, he knows that Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace are Very Big Deals (But also doesn’t know why beyond parents), and he’s, at best, vaguely aware that there’s some kind of bad prophecy hanging around.

-Also by the end of the book, he’s just been told his last immediate family who isn’t Hades is dead in one of the worst ways possible, and he--pretty irrationally IMO, but Nico’s a kid who has been through a lot recently, so we’re not holding that against him--blames Percy Jackson.

-Literally, you probably can’t pick an angstier or worse choice to run through the time travel trope. I love it.

-We’re making this kid save Bianca’s life via time loop, which happens due to. . .hmm, we’ll say the Fates did it.

-So, Loop 0 = Canon, only at the end of the day on December 21st, after the conversation with Percy, Nico falls asleep only gods know where only to wake up the day he meets Percy Jackson:

Loop 1:

-Nico doesn’t actually change anything meaningful at first.

-Spends most of it shellshocked and not unconvinced the last week (For him, anyway) wasn’t a horrible nightmare; shellshocked and staring at Percy Jackson, anyway.

-(Percy’s wondering what’s up with the silent kid his sister had talked up as a cheerful chatterbox)

-It’s only when Bianca agrees to join the quest for Artemis that he starts kicking up a fuss; demanding to go, screaming that she can’t leave him even more, not again.

-(Bianca hesitates; briefly, enough to remind Nico that she loves him. But she’s not their mother, and she needs this)

-Bianca still dies. Percy comes back pale and guilty. Nico doesn’t yell at him when he returns--he already knows. He accepts the Hades figurine so that he can throw it into the lake.

-He slinks off back into Cabin Eleven and falls asleep, hoping desperately that he gets a third chance.

Loop 2:

-He does.

Loop 3:

-After a very painful death at the hands of Dr. Thorn, Nico, generally being a straightforward person at this stage of life, takes the obvious path this time around: He tries to tell Bianca--who brushes it off as a dream.

-Annabeth still goes over the cliff when Nico takes the initiative of attaching himself and his sister to Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace at the dance. He tries to tell Percy and Thalia when Bianca still joins the Hunt, promising Nico that whatever he saw, she’ll be extra careful.

-(Bianca’s fearful of what Nico's saying, and thinks that if these sworn sisters can’t keep her safe, who can?)

-Artemis gives Nico a speculative look but agrees when he begs her to protect Bianca at all costs.

-He doesn’t get on the quest. Being a reasonable demigod of questionable parentage, he sneaks out of camp.

-He gets caught, because despite being aware of his awesome new powers, he doesn’t know how to use them, and is still a ten-year-old who can barely hold a sword the right way.

-He gives Percy the puppy dog eyes and shows off said awesome new powers. Percy forces him back.

-Nico follows him.

-Repeat until Percy dies saving Nico from the Nemean Lion in Washington, DC.

-Nico can’t find it in himself to be terribly sad--especially when he doesn’t make it much longer.

Loop 4:

-He’s really stuck like this, huh?

-Oh, Di Immortales.

-(Before Percy gets his chest ripped to shreds by a lion and Nico meets skeleton cats, he learned how to hold a sword properly and curse fluently in Greek. Percy probably only meant to teach him one of those things)

-In unrelated news: Having a big crush on a guy who thinks he’s only known you for a couple hours? Terrible.

-Trying to hate the guy who let your sister die when he’s that stupid and nice? Even worse.

-That stupid lion.

Loop 5, 6, 7, 8, 9:

-Nico repeats: That stupid lion.

-Somewhere in Loop 7 he starts to steal supplies out of the camp store when he follows Percy following the quest.

-They forcefeed the lion enough trail mix and frozen ice cream in Loop 9 that they don’t die this time.

-At least until someone called the General shows up and Nico’s dead before he can raise his sword.

Loop 10:

-Nico wakes up in his and Bianca’s room in Westover and starts crying. Bianca tells the headmaster they’re both sick and Nico lets her hold him all day.

-They fall asleep and Nico swears he won’t let her die again.

Loop 11, 12, 13:

-He wakes up and he still can’t get out of bed without feeling that blade cutting between his ribs, burning like it’s on fire.

-Gods, he’s so sorry, Bianca. Dispiace tanto.

Loop 14:

-He can get up without feeling like he’s about to die again. Bianca fusses but assumes it was just a bad dream.

-Nico is caught stealing and can’t follow Percy until it’s too late.

-Everyone assumes this means he’s a son of Hermes, however, and Nico can’t correct them without opening his mouth and letting the sobbing laughter out.

-Figuring he’s about to get another chance next round anyway, he takes Travis and Connor Stoll up on their offer to learn a thing or two so that he doesn’t get Cabin Eleven slapped with kitchen duty from now until Doomsday.

-He likes the Stolls. He spent most of the time, pre-looping, actively avoiding everyone at camp as he waited for Bianca and Percy to come back, but they’re not that bad.

-Percy comes back with the figurine and no sister and Nico remembers why he’s stuck.

Loop 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23:

-After Loop 12 and being killed in Washington DC again, Nico realizes: He needs to learn how to fight.

-Unless he gets killed early or refuses to leave Westover, the loop resets after seven days. So, he has seven days to train each time.

-He gets to camp, finds the arena, and meets Clarisse La Rue. He demands she teach him how to kill monsters.

-She laughs, and tells him that attitude in his size will make monsters easy to kill, they’ll laugh so hard.

-Clarisse teaches him how to swing a sword each time--but only after mocking his unamused face.

-Somehow, Percy coming back with news of Bianca’s death only hurts more each time.

Loop 24:

-Nico wakes up before Bianca this time. He looks over at her bed and knows. He’s got to try this time.

-It’s disturbingly easy making friends with Percy Jackson after the last loops.

-Bessie’s new. Cute, but new.

-Nico wonders just how much he’s missed in the past--he thinks of Annabeth Chase, and hopes she hasn’t been dying each time.

-Percy doesn’t even argue when Nico shows up in the stables with a bag slung over his shoulder, and the sword he’s been stealing out of the shed strapped to his hip.

-Nico suggests the ice cream--again--to Percy in DC before

-Nico might be getting the hang of this.

Loop 25:

-Nico is not getting the hang of this.

-Zoë Nightshade’s refusal to accept Percy and Nico on the quest--violating a prophecy, and gods, Nico’s curious if that prophecy ever mentioned this--has so far gotten them attacked and killed by spartoi once.

-And again. As Nico bleeds out on the floor, he watches a panicked blond man--a demigod--plead for mercy.

-Isn’t he on the other side?

Loop 26:

-His name is Luke Castellan and he apparently wants the gods dead.

-Nico can relate at this point.

-The General is Atlas, and Nico knows enough about Greek mythology, real and wrong, at this point to know that is bad.

Loop 27:

-Twenty-six tries, but they finally make it out of DC. Threatening the questers with Atlas killing them all is more than enough.

-For the first time, Nico doesn’t know what happens next. He glues himself to Bianca’s side and glares at anything suspicious.

-With help that Percy refuses to name, even when Nico tries his hardest, they go to New Mexico.

-There’s a boar and it’s so close, they make it to what the others are calling “the junkyard of the gods”.

-Nico sees the Hades figurine on the ground.

-Bianca grins in delight and picks it up, calling for him.

-He can’t help it.

-Nico starts screaming.

Loop 28:

-His sister’s murderer was never Percy Jackson.

-His sister’s murderer was a force of mechanics that makes Nico fully understand, for the first time, what the gods are, beyond stats on a card.

-Talos.

-Nico is going to destroy him.

Loop 29:

-She dies.

Loop 30:

-Again.

Loop 31:

-Again.

-Loop 32, 33, 34, 3536373839FortyFo r t y O n e--:

-Again. Again. Again. Again again againagainagainagainAGAIN--

Loop 42:

-Nico gets out of bed. He finds Percy Jackson at the dance, hugs him, and tells him he’s sorry.

-Nico walks outside and waits for Dr. Thorn in the snow. He can feel the shadows curling at the edge of the wood like a sixth sense, now. Waiting for him to summon the restless dead out of them.

-So many attempts to save his sister, ranging from sacrificing himself to sacrificing Percy--not that Percy needs the push, Nico has found--to any and all members of the quest.

-She dies. Always, always dies. Whatever Nico does, that junkyard is full of the death of Bianca di Angelo.

-He tried avoiding it. Once. Loop 33. Nico threw such a fit he’s surprised he wasn’t sent back to Camp Half-Blood by the Hunters, but it kept them out of the junkyard.

-He tries not to remember how little was left of his sister’s body by the monsters that time.

-Son of Hades. After all this time, Nico’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means. Death and death and death.

-Dr. Thorn walks outside, and Nico can feel a ghoulish grin crossing his face that has no place on a ten-year-old.

-One of them is going to die, this loop. And Nico will not go to New Mexico.

Loop 43:

-Nico wonders if there was a past life of his he needs to remember. Who could he have made this angry?

-He lies to Bianca and they stay in Westover again this time. Better than death, anyway.

Loop 44:

-Nico tries a different tack this time. A more roundabout way of things.

-He takes Bianca and throws the two of them in the way of the battle with the manticore.

-After all this time, he still doesn’t know much about Annabeth Chase. She gets kidnapped and returned safely to Percy every time, to the best of his knowledge.

-Nico dies holding up the sky, but at least Bianca lives, under the protection of Artemis.

Loop 45:

-Nico looks in the mirror and studies the new grey streak with fascination. And, maybe, some hope.

-Things can change.

Loop 46, 47, 48, 49, 50:

-Nico gets kidnapped a few times. Once, he’s killed in a rage by a Titan with horns, but it’s quick. Mostly, he holds up the sky to get Artemis out.

-She looks at him strangely each time and Nico wonders if she can see what he’s done.

Loop 51:

-They figure out he’s a son of Hades. They offer him Olympus. Olympus and Bessie--the Ophiotaurus, rather.

-Nico says no.

Loop 52:

-Nico says yes.

Loop 53:

-Being on the verge of overthrowing the gods and keeping everyone he’s grown to care for--in the case of several Hunters, against his will; in Percy Jackson’s case, Nico loves him as much as he hates him at this point--doesn’t do much, apparently.

-Nico stays in Westover again. He resists the urge to tell Bianca that would-be destroyers of Olympus don’t need to brush their hair, whatever she says.

Loop 54:

-Nico goes over the edge of the cliff again, but with Percy Jackson.

-This isn’t the first time; in Loop 46, Percy had taken the sky for both the sake of Artemis and Nico until it killed him.

-What’s different, is Nico’s in the middle of what’s become the usual panic attack when he’s about to die for the hundredth time, and his powers react.

-Percy holds him close and calls him cousin. Tells him he’ll never leave Nico.

-You have no idea, Nico whispers. You can’t leave me.

-You think I want to? Percy whispers back. You’re not alone, Nico.

-Nico’s sobbing sounds like laughter.

Loop 55:

-Nico tells Percy the truth for the third time. This is the first time he hasn’t told Bianca first.

-They’ve just found the Erymanthian Boar, Thalia’s told Nico his goth needs work--whatever that means--and Nico’s bracing himself for the junkyard again.

-Getting kidnapped by the Titans really gets old after a while.

-He still has the grey streak, and no number of excuses will fully soothe his sister, but the Hunt’s a good distraction from it.

-Nico doesn’t blame Bianca anymore for it. He thinks.

-Nearly a year into this loop and Nico’s finding it hard to blame anyone for much of anything, anymore. Especially when he sees what she’s faced. Again. And again.

-For now, this time, Percy Jackson is staring at Nico with wide eyes at what Nico’s told him--through these loops, Nico’s starting to wonder if he now knows more about Percy than Percy’s own best friends--and says he believes him.

-Once, Nico would’ve exploded from joy. Now, he just sighs and nods.

-Percy tells him how to condense the conversation for the next loop. He advises Nico to research Talos, “like Annabeth would.”

-He advises Nico to warn Percy’s next loop self about Annabeth’s kidnapping. Nico wonders if he’s gone insane that he’s considering it.

-Bianca dies.

Loop 56:

-Nico makes the executive decision this time to try and befriend Annabeth Chase. As such, he takes Percy’s advice.

Loop 57:

-It takes him two tries to befriend Annabeth Chase and learn about Talos.

Loop 58:

-Three times.

-But the nail. The nail in the ankle of Talos.

Loop 59:

-He hangs back at camp again this time and meets Charles Beckendorf, head of Cabin Nine, and son of Hephaestus.

-Nico figures that short of finding the god himself and committing temporary suicide--not that it hasn’t crossed Nico’s mind--his son will have to do.

-(He’s tried his hand at summoning ghosts, but Daedalus refuses to show, for some reason)

-Beckendorf frowns and tells Nico he would have to see Talos himself.

-Nico hadn’t realized just how much cursing he had picked up off of Percy and Thalia until that moment.

Loop 60:

-Nico knows what the prophecy says. One shall be lost in the land without rain.

-He knows it’s why he’s been failing so much.

-The trouble is, he no longer cares.

Loop 61:

-It took him a try, but he gets Beckendorf on the quest, prepared to defeat the Talos prototype.

Loop 62:

-Strike that, two tries.

-Nico really hates the Nemean Lion.

Loop 63, 64:

-Nico has solved half a problem: How to defeat Talos without putting someone inside the robot.

-The other half of the problem is now that they are all electrocuted by a dying automaton for their efforts.

Loop 65:

-Beckendorf’s crush--girlfriend? crush, they’re both insisting--Silena Beauregard comes along this time. Nico won’t complain over the extra manpower, even if he’s positive that eight campers and Hunters are patent overkill for one quest.

-Silena pulls Bianca out of the wreckage. Nico’s heart stops.

-Silena’s crying when she mentions that if they had been a bit earlier, she could have been revived.

-Nico wonders if Thalia’s going to stab him as he starts whooping. And takes notes about where Talos falls.

Loop 66:

-Nico swears, if Percy Jackson tries to sacrifice himself for Annabeth Chase one more time--

Loop 67:

-Bianca.

-I found you, he sobs. I found you.

-Gods damn the Hoover Dam.

Loop 68:

-And again.

-Despite having the distinct inkling at this point that he doesn’t much like like girls, Nico could kiss Silena Beauregard and Thalia Grace when they manage to revive his sister each time.

-She’s shaky and leaning on him and was dead, he could see her soul floating away--

-But she’s there.

-Nico refuses to let his sister out of the sight at the Hoover Dam and Percy befriends the Naiads this time.

-At least, until the Titans--who Nico made the very big mistake of taunting at DC--sends monsters he can’t control.

Loop 69, 70, 71, 72, 73:

-They keep dying in various combinations at the Hoover Dam now that Nico’s figured out how to save Bianca.

-At least, until he gets separated from Percy in Loop 73 and he meets a redheaded girl with a penchant for calling Nico pint-size.

-Athena dislikes Percy, Nico, Bianca, and Thalia in equal measure. Having learned of the Great Prophecy in Loop 16 and Percy’s mooning over Annabeth in. . .well, every loop, Nico can’t quite blame her.

Loop 74:

-Her name is Rachel Elizabeth Dare and Nico likes her. She takes none of their shit and if it weren’t for the fact that they already have eight people on the quest, he’d want to take her along.

-Bianca gets in a fight with the Old Man of the Sea. Thalia electrocutes him when he throws Bianca in the bay.

Loop 75:

-Nico wakes up in Westover with the distinct feeling that he was drowned on dry land.

-He stays in bed shivering, that day.

Loop 76:

-Atlas is the father of Zoë Nightshade. Nico learned this around Loop 50. He had realized around five loops ago that this probably meant she was going to die “by a parent’s hand.”

-He hadn’t realized that it was going to hurt to watch.

Loop 77, 78, 79, 80, 81:

-Now that he’s figured things out to about San Francisco, it seems the world is out to get him. The number of fights or mistakes that he either makes himself or has to head off are ridiculous.

Loop 82:

-Nico is so very tired. And wishes he felt ten years old again.

Loop 83:

-If Thalia gets in one more fight with Nereus, Nico's going to walk into the sea.

Loop 84:

-He wanders off, in this one. Grover had been killed in Hoover Dam, so Nico’s waiting for the reset at this point.

-In the meantime, Nico figures there are worse things to do than enjoy a good afternoon in San Francisco. He even meets a boy in a purple shirt.

-His name is Jason and he has hair like the sun.

-If he ever fixes this, Nico wants to find him.

Loop 85:

-Nico’s not fast enough in the junkyard.

-In San Francisco, he tries to find the ugliest, biggest trouble he can find.

-He finds a pair of teenagers in armor who yell Latin at him instead.

Loop 86:

-There’s a dragon that will attack them in the Garden of the Hesperides if they make it angry enough and Nico is so tired.

Loop 87:

- Zoë Nightshade is dead. They’ve won.

-Funny definition of “win”, considering they’ve all almost died this loop about a dozen times each, and Nico can’t explain why he’s crying on the body of a Hunter he only met a week ago, in their eyes.

-She hates him, some loops. More loops, she looks at him with ghosts of old grief in her eyes and hands him a knife.

-The gods execute Bessie, and then, Nico watches as his father turns to him and Bianca with sorrowful eyes.

-Nico should’ve figured, after almost ninety loops.

Loop 88:

-Luke offers one of them the entrails of Bessie again.

-Nico takes them.

Loop 89:

-For all the good it does. Nico wakes up as he does every time now: Powerless, in bed, and with only a grey streak to show for his efforts.

Loop 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98:

-Nico doesn’t know how to save Zoë Nightshade. Bianca, he could trick and fight his way into it. Beckendorf and Silena and Percy and a loophole in lost could save his sister.

-Her, she just. . .dies. Sometimes in DC, sometimes in San Francisco, sometimes on the hills of Mt. Tamalpais. Always at the hands of Atlas.

-Always, being murdered by her father.

-It’s not as gutting as watching his sister die, but it aches more in his chest, somehow.

Loop 99:

-He sticks close to Zoë this time. Same as he’s done with Percy, Annabeth, his sister, Thalia, and Grover, time and time again. But not her, Nico is realizing. Not the clinging he’s achieving now.

-Hoping for. . .something.

-He knows better than to tell the immortal Lieutenant of Artemis the whole truth. The loneliness is enough.

-She’s less frosty to him from the start than to, say, Grover or Percy, after Annabeth goes over the cliff again. When he shows up in DC, she’s much less angry than he’s seen her.

-Along the way to New Mexico and then San Francisco, he listens. He’s grown better at it, this far in. When the others are asleep, when Bianca is being fussed over after Talos, when everyone but them is asleep by the fire, he listens.

-And she tells him about her sisters. About her father, when the world was young and Atlas had looked on every daughter of his with pride. She tells him, pride glistening in her eyes, of the battles she has seen, the hunts she has overseen at the command of a goddess, the monsters she has killed, and the epithets she has been given.

-He doesn’t ask anything of her. Not until they’re in the house of Annabeth’s father, drinking lemonade the night before the battle, and Nico knows she is about to die again.

-What do you want, he asks. You’ve done everything. What’s left?

-She stopped, ice seems to creep over her again, and Nico wondered if he’d hit some sore spot.

-He’s opened his mouth to make his apologies when she answers, so quiet and quick he thinks he’s imagined it.

-To be remembered. When my lady has taken another lieutenant, as she must, and I have gone to where all gods go when they die, I wish for my memory to remain. And. . .

-Nico waits, and ignores the sudden, terrifying thought that he no longer knows what he wants.

-I wish to see the stars again. I was born a nymph of the sunset; starlight is precious to me. I want to see it again.

-Nico dies to preserve the memory of Zoë Nightshade.

100:

-Nico di Angelo wakes up in Westover Hall. He hopes for the last time.

-He does everything right: Annabeth goes over the cliff, his sister joins the Hunt, Percy is soon his friend, and he convinces Silena and Beckendorf to join the quest.

-The Nemean Lion never stands a chance, and Nico is glad to be rid of it.

-His sister lives.

-Nico watches Percy watch Rachel Elizabeth Dare go, looking like he’s just taken a frying pan to the face, and fights the urge to snicker.

-Thalia doesn’t start a fight with Nereus, but Percy certainly does. Nico could’ve sworn he saw the boy with sun-hair again, watching with curiosity.

- Zoë Nightshade dies in the arms of Artemis and is made into the stars she loves so dearly. Nico promises her soul that he will remember.

-For, he has found, the dead have a tendency of remembering things they shouldn’t.

-Annabeth and Percy now have grey streaks to match Nico’s, and Nico can’t wait to spend the rest of his life trying to explain that.

-It’s closer than he would like, but much less close than other lives with Olympus. The Ophiotaurus is alive and safe, and they are all alive.

-As Nico walks out of the council, he looks off to the side. By the fire is the familiar girl with red eyes--the Lady Hestia, looking much closer to Nico’s age than that of the Olympian she is.

-Besides her are three old ladies. Nico’s heard about them from Percy, in Loops 26, 53, 61, and 62.

-One lady holds a ball of string that is the color of a warm umber. The other is knitting what looked suspicious like socks. The last. . .

-Scissors, in one hand. Just as expected. Nico swallowed.

-In the other, was a knot of burnt string, tied to the socks. Behind her, Nico could see discarded string of all colors: an electric blue, a stormy grey, a black that seems to glisten with the promise of a storm, string the soft, hopeful pink of love, yarn run through with bright copper.

-Glowing threads that Nico could only describe as the color of starlight.

-As he walked out, firmly between Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace, the Hunt of Artemis behind him, Nico hears one last promise:

It is done, Nico di Angelo.

127 notes · View notes

tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2976

Summary - After the battle in Manhattan, a man who hates the idea of a doctor definitely needs one. A friend of Pepper Potts' lends a hand and consequently changes Steve's long-lived disposition for getting medical help.

a/n - set after the battle of New York in the avengers

Since Steve had woken up, or rather been woken up after he was found in the ice after 70 years, he had not once visited the doctor other than those at S.H.I.E.L.D when they had forced him to. For one, he didn’t ever get sick now and reason two would be that he just hates the concept. He spent a great deal of his time in doctors offices and speaking to specialists diagnosing him with all forms of new medical conditions from when he was in a child to before he was given the serum. It wasn’t somewhere he wanted to go now and those days weren’t exactly the ones he liked to remember even if he was the absolute picture of health now.

That didn’t so much apply however when he, Tony, Thor, Natasha, Bruce and Clint were finally able to stop after fighting for hours against unrelenting waves of aliens trying to take New York. They were all battered and bruised to some degree, some arguably more than others.

Steve looks around with a pounding heart. It never gets easier to think about the losses that are likely to mount up after a battle, the buildings that fell and the people who stood unable in the face of the large aliens with huge powerful guns. It only adds to the hurt that stems from seeing the city he loves reduced half to rubble with skyscrapers crumbled to the ground, flaming, flipped cars scattering the road and entire streets all but destroyed.

Before he does anything else, Steve wants to go down to the subway that he insisted the police put people in to ensure they all get out safely before he heads to meet up with the rest of the team back at Stark tower. There are more ambulances lining what’s left of the roads than he can even begin to count and he’s extremely glad they hadn’t destroyed any hospitals because they were going to need every bed that they had. He helped some people up out of the Subway with the officers and some people thanked him, some people gawked at him and some seemed too much in shock to even notice he was there. Steve stood just watching for longer than he would care to admit.

He supposes he would say he’s just taking everything in. It feels as though the world is quite the same as to when he lived in it at first. People still come together when they need to and there are still bad people who want to stand above the rest.

As his feet carry him back over crunching rubble in the direction of Stark tower to meet up with the rest, Steve can’t help but think about how he wishes his best friend could be with him for this battle. There wasn’t anyone Steve preferred to have on his side and he did tremendously miss his friend.

“No no no!” Steve hears yelling above the rest of the commotion,a noise which immediately diverts his train of thought. He turns his head to see if he can catch a glimpse of what was going on to see if there was anything he could do to help. “He has to go first, he’s got an ICH with a blown pupil. He won’t make it halfway to the hospital if he has to wait another twenty minutes!” Steve rounds the corner at a slow jog. He’s met with a woman with her hair tied back tightly out of her face, which was smeared with dirt and dust and it looked as though she had been climbing amongst the rubble to help recover the last of the people from that building. “Look ma’am, we have a kid in there.” The EMT tries to explain, but you just give him an incredulous look, “With a closed tib-fib fracture, he’ll live! This guy is bleeding into his brain, do you have one of those-” You lean closer to him, squinting your eyes and sweeping dust off of his badge, “Jack. Do you have a brain, Jack?” The EMT in front of you opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. “Yes ma’am.” He stutters. “Good,” you snip, “Then get the kid in a wheelchair for the next ambulance and bluelight this guy to the nearest hospital, now!”

The EMT scrambles to do as told and you push your hair back again with a heavy sigh as you walk away the second they get him in the stretcher and into the ambulance. Steve smiles slightly to himself. There’s nothing quite like a powerful woman in his eyes and no force like an angry one. He’d hate to be on that woman’s bad side and he knows now that he was wrong to think his help would be needed there. The super soldier simply walks away again with his shield held tightly in his hand. He bids a wordless respect to the woman who rolls up her sleeves again and cups her hands over her mouth, shouting out for anyone who might need help from her clearly medically experienced hands.

“Dear God, look at you lot!” Pepper exclaims as they walk in, immediately rushing to hug Tony tightly. “You all need to get checked over medically. Like now.” She says firmly, but each one shakes their heads. “The hospitals will be busy enough,” Bruce says, “I just saw a woman fighting for an ambulance. We’ll heal.” Steve agrees, folding his painful arms. “They’re right.” Tony nods. Pepper shakes her head, “I knew you’d say that, which is why Fury and I had a medical floor set up. There’s nurses there to patch you guys up and a doctor there if anybody needs one. All of you, go. Now.” Most want to protest, but opt not to at her stern words and instead follow the nurse who had come to greet them.

All but Steve.

“I’ll be fine.” He states, shaking his head and turning away. “Excuse me,” Pepper calls out to him, “Please, Steve. You really need to get seen.” She insists, but he keeps walking.

“(y/n), oh my god!” Pepper sighs heavily in relief, rushing towards you the second you walk out the revolving door that only had one glass panel left in it. “Thank God you're safe. This is one of them I was going to ask you to take a look at.” Once she releases you from the tight hug, she points after Steve who was still limping away towards the stairs. “Can’t get him to go to the med floor though.” She mutters to you beneath her breath. You shoot her a smile that says she needn't worry.

“Oi!” You call out, barely eliciting a turn of the head from the man in the blue suit. “Hey you!” You try again, you merely get him to stop walking. “Me?” He says, but still didn’t turn to look at you. He was trying to place where he had heard your voice, but his head was hurting too much to put a lot of thought into it. “Yeah, you. You better get America’s ass right back over here and march it right down to that med floor.”

Your tone makes him turn around immediately, his eyebrows slightly furrowed for a moment before he realised it hurt to do that too. He fought back a smile over those pink lips. “I thought I knew your voice.”

His response prompts your eyebrows to shoot up as you eyed him and then Pepper in confusion. “Have we met?” You ask, tilting your head slightly to the side. Steve shakes his head, “Oh no, sorry. I just saw you a while ago yelling at a paramedic over an ambulance about an ICH, whatever that means.” The blonde shrugs, offering you a slight smile. You chuckle at his words and shake your head. “Well then I’m sure you’ll do as I tell you. Save me doing anymore yelling today?”

Steve doesn’t have much more fight left in him for today and he would be lying if he said his body wasn’t aching. He could probably do with some pain killers and the cut on his arm would likely hurt a lot less, as well as be quicker to heal if he were to get it stitched up. He doesn’t say anything, but he does sigh and decides to follow you through the lobby and down a flight of stairs to the newly designated medical floor.

“Nice of you to join us, Cap!” Tony jests out, “And (y/n)!” He cheers. You only flip him off in response with a roll of your eyes as you lead the tall man behind you into one of the private rooms filled with medical supplies.

“Sit on the bed there.” You instruct, walking over to wash your hands, arms and face before you do anything else.

“I don’t think I need-”

“On the bed, Captain.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

You nod your head and turn to smile at him softly. Your smile is beautiful. It actually alleviates a little of his pain just to see it, and he truly is surprised by the softness and gentility of it in comparison to the attitude he had thus far witnessed from you in the short time he’s known you.

He groans and the medical bed creaks a little when he climbs on as you pull the latex gloves over your hands. He watches you very tentatively, attempting to eye the things that you gather from various boxes around the room and place onto the wheeled table. “Sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

Your softer voice makes him smile slightly again. “It’s alright,” Steve brushed off with a shrug, shifting himself so he could strip his suit off like you had told him to do just before you entered the room. He kind of awkwardly places the material of the suit over his boxers and the tops of his thighs. He doesn’t exactly want to sit basically naked in front of a woman he didn’t even really know. He still had a lot of his 1940’s mannerisms written into his behaviour. You turn back around to face him and don’t seem to take much notice of his huge, bare torso on the medical bed in front of you. Instead, your eyes scan his body for where to start on his injuries.

It seems as though you opt for cleaning his face first, which makes him feel slightly embarrassed to just sit and let you do it. You use a cloth and hot water for the dried blood, followed by an alcohol cloth that stings a surprising amount. You only place a steri strip over the gash on his forehead and then turn to the open cut on his shoulder. He knows that it’ll heal in less than 24 hours and he won’t have so much as a mark in its place. But it’ll heal a hell of a lot quicker if it’s closed and clean, so he allows you to begin working on it.

He hisses when you do, and you stop for a moment.

“Intracranial hemorrhage.” You say seemingly out of the blue. “What?” Steve asks, the pain in his arm dissipating. “Intracranial hemorrhage. ICH. What the guy you saw me fighting for the ambulance had. He got stuck under some rubble and it caused his brain to bleed. That increases the pressure in his head until you drill a hole to release it. Sometimes you have to take out a whole section of the skull and leave the head open until the swelling goes down around the brain. It’s super interesting.” Steve is entranced by your jabbering on, his eyes literally glued onto you as you work. Hands tentatively maneuvering a needle through his skin as gently as you can to pull the two separate sides back together.

You flick your eyes up to him to see the grin and his blue eyes shining in anticipation for your next words. “He was pretty bad considering the circumstances. A blown pupil- dilated pupil- is usually a huge warning sign that he needs treatment like, right away. He wasn’t responding to much physical stimuli, but you'd be amazed by the recovery that a lot of people with that type of injury can make within literally just a few days of the surgery. The brain is pretty cool.” You continue on. Steve doesn’t want you to ever stop talking. Your voice has apparently turned off all of the pain receptors in his body as he watches the focus pull your brows together ever so slightly and part your lips as you tie the knot at the end of his arm stitches, carefully wiping over it and placing a white gauze dressing over the wound. “Those should dissolve in your skin even if you are a super-healer or whatever.” You turn your attention next to a cut just above his kneecap.

“Sorry for the rambling, wild day. I’ll stitch that one up too then you should be good to get back to your superhero post-battle business.” Your tease makes him chuckle slightly as he watches you roll the wheeled table and your stool round to the other side of him to wipe down his knee before you start to stitch it. Steve had a tough day too, and he hadn’t yet learned how he would cope with those in modern day, but he had a hunch that listening to you might be the key. However, it comes across to him like your way was talking about things that weren’t as scary as the fact that aliens descended from the sky and destroyed half of New York City. “What about a closed TibFib then?” Steve asks softly with kindness swimming around in those sky blue eyes. “Tell me about that?”

After a further half hour finishing his stitching, cleaning him up properly and getting him some fresh clothes, you found yourself surprisingly sad to be leaving the company of the kind, attractive, super soldier you had newly become acquainted with. He seemed pretty solemn about it too, but you couldn’t tell if he was just exhausted from his day's worth of fighting. You had gotten to know each other through the short time you got to spend with him, and he was glad he had at first refused any form of medical treatment for if he hadn’t he probably wouldn’t have had you as his caregiver.

“Thank you for...all this.” He gestures to himself, referring to the stitches, his newly clean skin and clothes. “And for talking to me. It really means a lot.” Steve admits, his voice a little shy with the lightest dusting of pink flushing his cheeks. You smile without thought for the first time that day. “It’s a pleasure. Thank you for listening to me, and for not calling me a bossy bitch.” You breathe a chuckle of laughter as you turn your back to him to empty all the rubbish into the bin. So you don’t see the anger that passes through his eyes at the thought of someone ever calling you that, or the tilt of his head in irritation. You were so strong and a true powerhouse of a woman in his eyes. Clearly incredibly smart. He was pretty much smitten with you already.

“That would be incredibly rude.” Steve states firmly, “I just think you’re a very smart and a very beautiful woman. And you are incredible. Saved a lot of people today down in the rubble.”

You turn back around to see him, standing now much closer to you. “Says you, Mr Alien-slayer.” You grin back up at him. He isn’t the kind to go in for a kiss on the first date, never mind the first time ever meeting a woman, so he takes a gentle step back much to your disappointment. “I believe you called me America’s ass, earlier today.” He corrects lightly and you turn your eyes to the ground as your face flushes red with a giggle of embarrassment as he laughs with you. “Sorry about that, Steve.”

That was actually the first time you had said his name and God he loved how it sounded leaving your pretty lips. “It’s okay. Kinda liked it, suits me don’t you think?” He turns side on and twists his back to look down at his ass dramatically and you throw your head back laughing. It’s such music to his ears and he’s yet to hear another sound since he woke that brings such a great amount of joy and warmth straight to his heart.

“Well,” you hum softly as you pull out a piece of paper and scrawl some writing down on it with a pen from your scrubs breast pocket, “If America’s ass ever finds himself in need of a stitch up or a chat, anything really, then this is where to find me.” You tuck the little bit of ripped paper into his large hand and gently peck his cheek before opening the door and walking off through the medical floor. He looked down at that little bit of paper, reading over some numbers and your name.

“(y/n),” he says softly to himself, subconsciously smiling at the way your name feels so beautiful on his lips. “What you got there, Cap?” Natasha asks as she leans herself on the doorframe of the room he stands frozen in. Steve looks up at her in surprise, “Uh, nothing much.” He diffuses, shrugging his shoulders as he takes one more glance down at the paper. “You sure?” She presses. “Yeah.” He assures. She turns to walk away just as realisation hits him. “Oh wait,” he calls after her, a shy smile on his lips.

“You know anywhere I could get a phone?”

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #avengers #marvel imagine

79 notes · View notes

whumpdoyoumean · 3 years

Text

Whumptober #5

This one originated as a sort of fix-it fic thing back in the day but never got finished so here it is in a lil whumpy one-shot!

xxx i’ve got red in my ledger

Buck has barely been asleep thirty minutes when his phone buzzes against his nightstand, startling him awake. He ignores it at first, hoping it’ll stop and he can fall back asleep. No such luck, though--the second it stops, it starts up again and he picks it up and frowns.

“Eddie?”

“Heyyy, Buck.”

Buck frowns deeper and props himself up on one elbow. “You sound weird. Are you drunk?”

Eddie responds with a muffled laugh. “Uuh, no. Not drunk.” He mumbles something Buck can’t quite hear about that easy then says, “Look. Can you…Uh. Can you come pick me up?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you in person. Look, can you get me or not?”

“Yeah, okay,” Buck says, sitting up. “Where are you?”

“I’ll text you the address. Thanks, Buck.”

“Sure, Eddie.” He’s got a million questions, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask any of them because Eddie’s already hung up. A text comes in a second later with an address which, frustratingly, doesn’t actually shed any light on the situation. He gets dressed quickly, throwing on sweats and a hoodie and his slippers (he’s not in the mood for shoelaces), and hurries out into the chilly night.

Ten minutes later, he’s pulling onto a gravel lot behind a sketchy, secluded building wondering what the hell is happening. He spots Eddie immediately. He’s in a heated exchange with another man, looks angry, and the other man is yelling at him, waving his arms around. Buck has just turned the car off when it starts to get physical, the man shoving Eddie in the chest hard enough that he stumbles back.

“Shit,” Buck mutters, unbuckling hurriedly before scrambling out of his car. “Hey!” Eddie takes a blow to the jaw a second later and Buck starts running. “Hey!”

Both men are seeing red, past the point of words, and if he doesn’t stop them someone could get seriously hurt.

“Stop it!” He’s right next to them now, but neither seem to hear him. “I said stop it! That’s enough!”

He grabs the man’s shoulder, the one that’s not Eddie--and gets an elbow to the face. There’s a loud crunch and Buck stumbles backward, vision going black for a second as blood starts pouring from his nose.

“Shit!” he cries, and Eddie is at his side in an instant, the other man forgotten.

“Oh my god! Buck, are you alright? I’m so sorry, let me see.”

Buck’s eyes are watering like crazy (not to mention his nose hurts like a bitch) as he lowers his hands. The other man takes a step forward, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Back off,” he snarls, and the man obeys, backing away with his hands raised. He turns back to Buck. “Damn…” He grabs Buck’s shoulders and leans forward, making a face. “Definitely broken. Give me your keys, you’re not driving like this.”

“I’m fine,” Buck insists, words slightly muddled by the unrelenting cascade of blood.

“No way. Come on, head forward. Pinch--pinch your nose, there you go…”

Buck does as he says, letting out a pained groan as he pinches his nostrils shut in an attempt to stem the blood flow. He looks up as well as he can without lifting his head too much.”

“You gonna tell me what the hell is going on? What are we doing here? And-and who was that guy?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He won’t look at Buck, fingers twitching nervously as he chews on his bottom lip.

Bucks sighs. “Eddie, c’mon. You can trust me. I-I know I messed up, big time with the-the lawsuit, and I am so, so sorry, Eddie I--”

“It’s not that, Buck,” Eddie interrupts, brow furrowed, mouth turned down in a frown. “Of course I trust you. I’m sorry if I let you think otherwise, just…” He takes a deep breath. “It’s embarrassing, okay?”

“Just tell me.”

“It’s uh...It’s a fighting ring. I beat that guy and he wasn’t too pleased, slashed my tires and I didn’t feel right calling an Uber here...”

Buck is stuck on the words fighting ring. “The bruises.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck are you thinking?”

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Buck, I--”

“No! Listen to me, Eddie! You have a son, and he needs you right now more than ever. And he is not the only one. You could--you could get arrested, lose your job. You could get seriously hurt! And what would I--” Buck feels feat creep up his neck and ears. “What would Christopher do if that happened?”

Eddie hangs his head. “You’re right. You’re right! Of course you’re right, I...Never meant to hurt Christopher. Or you...How’s your nose?”

“Uh…” Buck releases the hold he has on his nostrils and blood pours out. “Oh, uh--god. Hasn’t slowed down much.” He looks up at Eddie. The man’s face is pale, eyes wide. “What?”

“The blood thinners,” Eddie breathes. “I-I shouldn’t have asked you here shit that was stupid I--”

“Eddie…”

“Look, I’ll call the babysitter and get you to the ER--”

“Eddie!” Buck cries. “Calm down, alright? I’m okay. If you take me to the ER Bobby will flip. Just--take me home. It’s just a nosebleed, even on the medication I’ll be fine. Can’t say the same for my hoodie...Or my car.” He cracks a smile. Eddie just looks wounded. Guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I don’t feel right leaving you alone, why don’t you come to my place. We’ll make sure the bleeding stops and you can drive home, or...Well you’re more than welcome to crash on my couch. I can set that in the morning when the swelling’s gone down some.”

Buck studies his face for a moment, sees the concern there and the sincerity. It makes his heart flutter.

He’s missed this.

“Yeah, okay.”

xxx end

#buck #whumptober2021 #no.5 #i've got red in my ledger #broken nose #911 #911 fox #fic #whumptober #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #my writing #my fic

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

First time

Kinktober day 15 - Virginity kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - So anon asked for step dad Steve and I can't do that to Steve. This started out as step dad ransom but then me being me couldn't go through with it🤦‍♀️ so he's supposed to be your stepmoms husband which still makes him your step dad, I think.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Warnings - 18+ONLY! smut(m/f), dub conish, painful sex, unprotected sex, implied age gap, loss of virginity, bloodplay.

Pairing - Step dad!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 2.3k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

“Oh! Don’t act like you care. I can tell you wouldn’t give a shit if I left for an entire year. I’m not one of your barely legal bimbos you can manipulate however you like,” Karen ranted on and on to Ransom. You didn’t know what they were fighting about today - you didn’t care to find out either.

“God! Would you fucking give me a break? All you do is yap your trap all day long,” he snapped at her.

You looked at the main door, to leave your house you would have to go through the hallway where both of them were having their ‘lively' discussion, which you had no intentions to be a part of.

Karen gave him a deadly glare - which literally gave you chills even though you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

She walked closer to him, until she was only inches away from his face, “For your own good,” wrapping her palm around his chiselled jaw “don’t forget your place. You do not curse at me or yell at me.”

He didn’t say anything back, simply holding her unwavering glare.

She looked at the stairs, her face instantly lighting up into a faux smile upon seeing you. “Darling, what are you doing there? Come here,” she said extending an arm to you. You walked down to her, she engulfed you into a hug, soothing a hand over your head, “Mommy has to go away for a while, to Paris for fashion week. I know that’s not something you’d be interested in.”

You shook your head. No, those events were a bit too stuffy for you. You dared to sneak a glance at Ransom, he was fuming. His jaw clenched hard, his face and neck flushed as he heaved. You weren’t sure if that rage was directed towards you or your stepmother.

“Fuck this shit,” he spit before leaving and slamming the door behind him. You cringed at the loud noise it made. You were relieved that he was gone, given what he had done in his impulsivity and rage, you didn’t want to be around him when he was that angry.

“Well?” Karen’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You better not be going to meet that Jack or John or whatever.”

“His names Jeremy, Karen, and I really like him. If you got to know him - ”

“I don’t need to know him. He does not bring anything to the table. He doesn’t even deserve to breathe in the same air as you.”

“A rich guy can treat me badly too. I don’t know why you think I can’t be happy with a normal person.” you shook your head. She of all people should not be questioning your taste in men.

“His fathers a fucking high school teacher, honey,” she scoffed. “No, I won’t have you dating a nobody.”

“Well, Ransoms a friggin' murderer!” you screamed. “What kind of man conspires to kill his own grandfather?!”

She had married him just months after he was declared 'not guilty' of not one, but TWO murders. Although, everyone knew that he definitely did it.

You begged her not to marry him. But she seemed to be completely smitten with him, besides she had never really valued your opinion or seen you as an adult.

“Say what you will about Ransom. But he has the name - he’s a Thrombey, he comes from old money. As annoying as he can be - he’s not hideous to look at either, I suppose.”

That was the only thing you might be inclined to agree with. You hated that some part of you was attracted to him. Even though, he was a terrible person. He treated ‘the help', the people who raised you and cared for you as if they were beneath him.

He treated Karen like shit - which she may deserve, you knew of her affairs and the one French boyfriend she was visiting under the guise of business.

He was however, completely indifferent to you. He never got in your way, sometimes you could feel his eyes on you, following every move you made. Sometimes you wondered... if maybe... some part of him found you attractive as well.

You knew you weren’t much to look at, especially compared to your stepmother, but then why else would he be staring so much?

Was he plotting to OFF you as well? To get you out of his way. You’d be inheriting most of your late fathers estate.

***

You closed the door behind you, as quietly as you could so as not to wake anyone. You got home a little later than midnight. You weren’t used to staying out that long but it was one of your best friends birthday.

“What were you doing out so late?” You yelped as you heard his voice.

“Ransom! Oh my gosh, you scared me,” you tried to catch your breathe.

“It’s after twelve. Who were you out with?” he raised a brow. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

“Huh?” you looked down at your bodycon dress. You weren’t used to wearing clothes that tight but this one just seemed so pretty and perfect to capture Jeremy’s attention. “It’s Karen’s design,” you shrugged. It was provocative but classy and respectable which was your stepmothers brand.

“What kind of message do you think you’re sending dressing like that? If you want to be the talk of the town - ”

“Ransom, oh my god! It’s just a dress and I’m - I’m a virgin!” you confessed. It wasn’t something you were ashamed of - why would you be?

“What?” his eyes widened and his mouth gaped.

He had known you were a pretty little thing since the moment he met you. So shy and demure and pure. Of course you’d be a virgin. Like a perfect present waiting to be unwrapped.

You almost smiled at that. Stunning Ransom like that made you feel smug for some reason. “Yeah. I’m saving myself for the right guy.” you replied in a small voice, averting his gaze and looking at the carpet.

He took two long strides and walked over to you, before you knew it he had a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you against his hard chest. “And what’s the right guy like, sweetheart?”

“Someone - uh,” your brain blanked, having him that close to you, feeling his warm breath on your face almost made you black out.

He bent his neck till he was closer to your ear, “Well, don’t lose it to Jeremy or whatever. He won’t even know what to do with a sweet thing like you.”

You gasped, trying to push him away but his stance was unrelenting. “That is so inappropriate, Ransom! You’re married!”

He grabbed at your failing wrists, pinning them behind your back, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Karen and I have an arrangement. You ever been kissed before?” he asked, his tongue peaking out to kick his plump lips.

“Wh - ” you swallowed a heavy lump of air, looking away from him, “No,” tears streaming down your face.

He chuckled, licking a firm stripe up your cheek, moaning at the taste of your tears. “We’ll fix that tonight, princess.”

You shuddered in his hold, it finally hit you. He intended to have his way with you. “Karen!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

“She’s not home, sweetheart,” he smirked, pushing his knee between your legs, “I thought you wanted this? I heard you saying my name while touching yourself. I’ll do better than your little fingers ever could,” he grinded his knee against your core.

You whimpered, scared out of your mind for your life and ashamed. Ashamed of being caught, of being aroused and getting more and more wetter. Your hips rolling against his knee to seek more friction.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth till it hurt and then releasing it with a pop. “If you keep being good and take what I give you - I’ll make you feel good too.” He held on to your forearm, dragging you up the stairs towards his room.

“No, no... not in your room. In mine, please,” you whimpered, his nails digging in the flesh of your arm. They might have an 'arrangement' but you doubted Karen would appreciate you doing the deed in her bed.

“Fine with me,” he dragged you along, locking your door behind him as he pushed you down on your mattress.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, quickly discarding all his clothes. You couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle him. His broad shoulders, defined chest and abs. He was bigger than any boy you knew. Your jaw dropped at the size of his cock, slapping against his abdomen when he pulled down his boxers.

“Like what you see, princess?” he smirked.

Hovering over you, his hands tearing your dress apart, you feebly tried to stop him, “That was expensive, Ransom!”

“I can just buy you another one,” he winked, rolling your panties down your legs.

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, with my own money.

Your arms flew up to your naked chest and mound, to cover up and save your modesty.

He growled, pulling them away and pressing them on the mattress above you. “These better fucking stay here all night, understood?”

You were too afraid to do anything but nod.

“Never popped anyone’s cherry before... this should be interesting,” he snaked a hand between your bodies, pinching your clit causing you to jerk away from him.

He didn't bother fingering you or preparing you, he knew you'd be tighter without it - he had about enough of foreplay anyway.

“Please, be gentle,” you requested, looking up at him through your doe eyes, pleading him - you had never felt so utterly helpless.

He cruelly laughed at your misery, his lips curled up in a devilish smirk, “I don't do gentle, kitten. You'll take what I fucking give you - ” he growled positioning himself between your legs, brushing his leaking tip over your chaste, untouched folds “and then thank me for it. Like the slut you are.”

You couldn't even begin to grasp or point out the logical fallacy of a virgin slut as his cock plunged into your heat, piercing through your virginity, splitting you in half.

Your back arched off the bed, you slapped your hands over your mouth to keep from screaming. It was painful, that was all you felt - pain. As he held onto your waist, his fingers digging in your flesh, his hips pulling out and then driving into you with an unrelenting pace.

You could not stop crying, or twisting your head from side to side. Knowing it was all you could do - he wouldn’t stop - no matter how much you pleaded. You weren’t sure you wanted him to stop.

He pressed a few kisses and nips to the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot as you held back a moan.

He propped himself up on his elbows to look down at you, your eyes and nose swollen, your make up running down your face - you looked more beautiful than you ever had before.

“You look so pretty when you cry, kitten,” he cooed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

He kept driving his cock into you, searching for that special spot as you kept mewling under him.

His heart swelled with pride, nobody’s ever fucked you before, he’s the first man that’s ever seen you naked or to be inside you.

“Do you want me to stop?” he stilled his hips, “Just say the word then.” He knew you wouldn’t.

You sniffled, shaking your head, “No, keep going, please.”

His lips curled up in a grin, taking some kind of twisted pleasure in your misery, “You’re something else, kitten.”

“Oh,” you closed your eyes, your toes curling, your legs holding onto his waist as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you.

Ransom leaned over you when he felt your heat convulsing around him, pulling your earlobe between his teeth, “This is the tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked,” he grunted, driving each word home with a powerful thrust. “You like that, kitten?”

All you could do was nod, the pain was well as much more subdued now but you were still sore and exhausted. “Yes, I like it.”

“We’re going to do this every night from now on.”

He pulled out fisting his cock over you - he wasn’t going to impregnate his newest plaything - his white, hot spend painting your stomach and titts.

Your fingers swirled the sticky substance around on your skin, you were curious to see what it tasted like. You clenched your legs shut, your pussy still tingly. This was not how you planned your first time to go but you had no regrets.

You knew you were absolutely wrong to think so but being desired by Ransom gave you a strange kind of pride.

You gasped when you heard a click, sitting up on your elbows you looked at Ransom clicking pictures of your pussy with his phone.

“Wh - what’re you doing?” you tried to close your legs but he kept a firm hand on your knee.

“Just need a souvenir,” he responded, taking some more of his cum on your body and then putting his phone in his pocket. He swirled a finger around the blood on your inner thigh, bringing it up to paint the crimson on your mouth, “Go clean yourself up. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You smiled as he kissed you, “Okay, Ransom.”

Even with your pussy freshly fucked - you couldn’t wait for his next visit.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

#kinktober #ransom drysdale x you #ransom x reader #ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale #knives out fanfic #berrys kinktober #berry writes

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icequeenbae · 3 years

Text

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 2 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.4k (Chapter 2)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: This chapter is going to be a little different! There’s angst, there’s drama, there’s smut... You will find out what I meant by ‘complicated relationships’ 🤭 Don’t forget to share your thoughts^^

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 2. Get him back

The day he left you it was pouring, and in your mind, it rained ever since. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks flew by. You did everything on autopilot, without thinking or differentiating between tasks. Everything around you was a grey mess, and you couldn’t maintain a single thought in your head, not one thought that didn’t have something to do with the breakup.

Was it even that? He just left, telling you that it was ‘for your own good’. Asking for no opinions. Frankly, you were angry with him. You would've been furious, but it was hard to tap into your irritation when it hurt so much in your chest. For the first time in your life, you realized that you were gone too far. So far, that you felt like a piece of you was missing now. The one you’d possibly never get back.

You also realized that you belonged fully to that friend circle as well — there wasn’t even anyone for you to talk to anymore, or wallow with, which made your sorry ass feel even more pathetic. Your entire world revolved around your protective boyfriend of three years, and now that he was gone it felt as unsafe as ever. Who knows, maybe it was your sixth sense alerting you as to what was to come.

It happened over a month after your last encounter with Baekhyun.

You were lounging in the campus library, mostly because your weeks of heartbreak caused you to miss a few deadlines, so now you had to take additional assignments to do well at the finals. Having no inspiration, or better yet, no one to hurry to, made you stay there for long hours, barely managing to get one task completed at a time.

The space was almost empty since it was rather late, and looking around you suddenly felt a tinge of nostalgia. Muttering that you should get ahold of your stupid self, you walked slowly towards the tall aisle with your useless book. In the labyrinth, you wandered for a bit, reminiscing of the first interaction with your… now ex? Your first boyfriend? Your first love?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you opted for walking further as if surrounded by books you could somehow block your bubbling feelings out.

A strange sound caught your attention.

No idea why, you kept walking towards it, soon stepping around the corner and freezing on the spot.

Only a few feet away there was a couple making out. The girl was pressed harshly into the shelves and grunted, as her partner shoved one hand underneath her shirt to squeeze her breast, and his other one grasped her neck, adding to the obscenity of their misplaced passion. You were ready to flush tomato red and vanish on the spot when you noticed something… familiar.

That side profile.

You would never mistake it for anyone else’s.

Wide-eyed in shock, you almost jumped when the male turned around, dark irises foreign to you. His eyebrow raised slightly as he took in your distress with half-lidded eyes, not even bothering to stop groping the girl.

‘B- Baekhyun?’ You said in such a tiny voice that you barely even heard yourself.

The sound of your book dropping to the floor ripped you out of the stupor, and you turned around. Out of the labyrinth you ran, not even bothering to put your belongings back into your bag neatly. You simply grabbed everything from the table and kept running. The surroundings were blurry, but you could see one thing clearly – his lustful eyes, mocking your naivety.

It hurt too much. Unable to hold your tears till you make it home, you found yourself locked in the stall of the nearest bathroom. The way you cried there was almost physically painful, and you struggled to catch enough air as you did. Nor did you care enough to prevent yourself from making noises. Your whole body was shaking with your sobs, and you weren’t entirely sure you hadn’t gone crazy just then. From seeing what you saw. From reopening the still-hurting wounds and seasoning them richly with salt.

However long it took you to dehydrate yourself with the seeping sorrow, you managed to stop, hiccupping only every now and then. Finally shoving your laptop and notes into your bag, you got out of the stall. Walking up to a mirror on wobbly legs, you gasped at your puffy face and red swollen eyes. Not that you really cared, but it was quite late, so you had good chances of sneaking out and getting home unnoticed.

Unless someone would be purposefully waiting for you to show your face, of course.

You took notice of the dark figure across the hall momentarily after exiting the bathroom. Turning the other way, you increased the pace of your steps, almost breaking into running speed to put some distance between the two of you.

‘Hey,’ a voice called from behind, and you felt a hand grabbing your upper arm to stop you.

The nerve he had.

‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ You barked at him, ripping away from his grasp fiercely.

He blinked, letting go, and you almost hiccupped again at the sight of his hair – even more silvery-white now than when he left you, slightly unkempt (from the prior activities, no less). As he opened his mouth to say something, you beat him to it.

‘Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. You make me sick!’ You spat, wanting to both claw at his beautifully sculpted face and to snivel pathetically again. Instead, you turned around and took off before he gathered himself enough to try initiating a conversation again.

Because… What the fuck was he thinking?

***

You fell ill. It probably wasn’t unrelated to what happened at the library, but you became so feverish that your roommate was on the verge of driving you to the hospital. Three days later your fever finally broke, however, you felt weak and drained and depressed for another week afterwards.

Staying at home, you kept rewinding back to the ‘event’. How could he? Coming back like that, and not even having the decency to not screw around right under your nose. You were repulsed by what you saw, and it was almost hateful how the heaviness in your chest only worsened. The bitterness of the situation added to it – he lied to you, just to be with someone else weeks, or, perhaps, even days, hours after. Maybe all of it was a lie, you didn’t know anymore.

This Baekhyun… You didn’t think you’d ever known him.

The subsequent week you avoided all of the crowded areas of the campus, dreading that you’d have to face him again. It would be impossible to maintain your calm in that case, so you took all of the possible precautions. But what could you have done if he was looking for you?

Upon your following encounter, you failed your attempt to vanish out of his sight the way you did before. It was essentially you walking into a trap, as you headed home rather late after finally squeezing your last important assignment out on paper. Not giving the outside world a single moment of attention, you stopped at the top of the stairs to put your phone into your bag and zip it up.

‘Aren’t you a mystery woman, Y/N,’ the voice almost made you drop your stuff.

You glanced up, taking notice of the murky figure, leaning onto a nearby tree. As he began walking in your direction, you turned on your heels and took off. It felt stupid to run from him like this, but you absolutely did not want to break down in front of him. You wanted to preserve at least some dignity.

As you flew down the stairs, you stumbled and almost dove headfirst to the ground. Thankfully, a swift limb wrapped around you before you could do that.

‘Are you dumb?’ He exclaimed into your ear.

‘Let go of me!’ You writhed in his hold, trying to free your body from the illusive familiarity of his touch.

‘You’re a danger to yourself! What the fuck,’ he swore under his breath, releasing you at once.

‘I told you to leave me alone. Do whatever you want, just stay out of my freaking life, Baekhyun!’ You yelled in his face, fuming from his shameless behavior. Why was he acting like nothing was even wrong with this?

‘Unbelievable. Your twin screws someone over, and you’re the one held accountable,’ he rolled his eyes.

Twin… what?

‘What are you talking about?’ You asked in bewilderment.

‘I believe, introductions are in order. I’m Baëkhyun, nice to meet you.’

***

That was… embarrassing. So embarrassing.

You had no idea there was, well, a live copy of Baekhyun walking around. And even though your ex-boyfriend was secretive, you couldn’t believe he left something like this out. Were you an actual joke to him?!

Baëkhyun said they weren’t particularly close. He explained to you that he hadn’t seen his twin in years, and his friends helped him obtain the little knowledge of his whereabouts that led him here. Thinking he could find Baekhyun by asking around he… got ‘involved’ with a girl or two. Or a dozen, who knows? But, apparently, your reaction the first time you’d met piqued his curiosity. When you flushed at the memory, apologizing profusely, he only said that he found it odd and strangely cute, the way you got upset with him.

‘I’m not as great of a guy as Baekhyun,’ he shrugged. ‘Not that I’m trying to be, anyways.’

You frowned.

After the way he left you, Baekhyun was not at the top of your ‘greatest people of all times’ list either. You could understand why your new acquaintance mentioned this, you had witnessed enough to gather that he was not at all well-behaved. Also, his ways of extracting information… Not very professional, to say the least. But who were you to judge? Now that you’d learned that he wasn’t your ex, you were genuinely ashamed of the hysteria of the past couple of weeks.

But Baëkhyun was different.

When he got your number and promised to text, you didn’t think much of it. You hummed and rolled your eyes – as if that was going to happen. Yet he surprised you by sending a quick message the following week. And then… you just kept talking. Which went on for a while, whilst you’d grown slightly addicted to it. Somehow, Baëkhyun became the only person who could take your mind off of his twin. So, even when you finally went on the long-awaited summer break, you stayed in touch with him. And not only via text – you’d been seeing each other on a regular basis.

Randomly at first – you’d just bump into him somewhere around the university premises, and he’d then suggest grabbing coffee. But as it progressed, you ended up inviting him over for dinner. Partially because you felt acutely lonely with your roommate gone, and partially because… you missed him. It was hard to put a finger on it – you’d initially thought that it was just misplaced longing for Baekhyun that pushed you towards his twin, and it felt so wrong. Almost like you wanted to use him to soothe the ache in your heart that had been bothering you ever since your ex-boyfriend had left.

Yet Baëkhyun seemed so magnetic. He hypnotized you with his blue eyes, which changed from the icy light color to dark, almost black, and were just as sharp as his twin’s. And his sassy smirk – the one he had plastered across his face almost always. Baëkhyun wasn’t warm like Baekhyun, yet there was still something about him that had you walking willingly into his trap. Maybe it was the mysterious glint in his eyes as he looked down at you or the way he sized you up whenever he caught a glimpse of you, like you were his prey. Being alone with him felt both dangerous and exciting, and you kept fooling yourself, basing your blind trust on nothing but his relation to your ex.

You never noticed how quickly he managed to build trust between you. And how you didn’t even know much about him, yet you did tell him a lot. Like that one time, he asked you where you thought Baekhyun was.

‘Wouldn’t I like to know,’ you chuckled, sadness in your voice. ‘He just left. I don’t think he even kept his phone.’

‘I always said he was the dumb one of the two. And to think that he’s the strategist,’ he snorted, splayed on your couch comfortably.

You looked at your hands in your lap, subconsciously calming yourself by playing with your fingers.

‘Stop,’ you shivered as his palm covered your fidgety hands. ‘Stop thinking about him.’

Eyes traveling to his face, you caught a glimpse of the frown that formed there.

And then he kissed you. Out of the blue, giving you no time to think or pull away.

And you let him. Grabbing at the soft leather of his pants, you allowed him to do as he pleased with you. Baëkhyun tasted familiar, though his kissing was anything but – rough and messy, lots of tongue and teeth, making your head spin with flaming passion. You didn’t resist when he pulled you into his lap, or when he ripped your clothes off, item by item. He was not asking and you were not thinking. It didn’t feel like something you should stop at the time. Rather, you thought you would’ve cried had he paused for longer than a second, so you kept clinging to him in response.

The demanding grip he had on your thighs only made you crave it more, lust seeping into your system as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rolled your hips into his. He emitted a deep sound, helping you grind on him.

‘Good girl,’ he gritted into your lips, landing a slap or two on your ass along the way.

As you kept going, your bare breasts grazed his skin, and your panties became soaked and sticky. You were probably flushed rosy red as you chased the tight feeling in your lower abdomen, his eyes hungrily taking in your frenzy. He slapped you again, a sharp hit resonating through you like electricity.

‘Baëk,’ you half-moaned. ‘Please fuck me-’

You couldn’t even believe that you were begging him like that, out loud. But the desperation grew as your body threw itself at him, demanding release.

He moved your panties out of the way, fingers instantly getting wet with your arousal.

‘Such a needy little slut,’ he murmured, making you shiver.

It was all new. The name-calling, the manhandling, the way he bit harshly into your lower lip and tugged at your hair. And somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

He didn’t waste much time to prep you, opting for taking his already hard length out and running the tip between your folds, making you jolt and cry out, nails digging into the back of his neck.

‘Sink on my cock and take what you want. Like a bad girl would.’ He addressed in a low voice, smearing the remainder of your lipstick over your mouth with his thumb. ‘Wanna be a whore for me?’

‘Yes,’ you muttered, and he smacked you on the ass again, emphasizing that you needed to be louder. ‘Yes!’

He let go of your hips, hands resting on your legs, allowing you to slam down on your own. You whimpered at the slight burn but kept going. Moving this fast wasn’t the way you were used to doing it, but all the more exciting for that. Using his shoulders to steady yourself, you worked your hips hard. A sheen of sweat on your chest glimmered as you increased the pace, wailing as his tip nudged at your cervix. He watched you with his dark blue eyes, hands kneading your ass, and filthy mouth guiding you.

‘Squeeze your tight little hole.’

Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain the tiresome pace, yet held onto the sensation of his girth pressing against your walls as he glided in and out of you.

‘Ah fuck, Baëkhyun!’ You moaned, feeling the tickle of perspiration making its way down your abs.

‘I know you’re close.’ He licked his lips seductively. ‘Want me to help?’

‘Yes, yes, please,’ you keened, leg almost cramping from the uncomfortable position.

‘Leave your begging for another time, baby. Like I said, if you want something, you should take it.’

You whined, head spinning at the suggestion. His eyes, expectant, traced the stubborn crease between your brows while you kept rocking your hips. Then, you did the first thing that came to your blurry mind. Your hands reached up to grasp his hair and pull hard, tilting his head back and leaving the long column of his neck exposed for the attack of your lips. Sucking a bruise on it harshly, you then used your teeth to ensure he’d have a bright mark in a few hours. Creeping up his neck and his jaw, you licked at his lower lip, and then into his mouth – like an animal would.

‘Oh,’ he smirked, hands seizing you and holding you down, with him snug inside you. ‘So, my good girl is not as innocent as she seemed?’ He teased, the lustful glint in his eyes boosting your confidence to the level of insolence.

‘Shut up,’ you replied firmly, sliding off of him and flopping backwards to finally get some circulation in your legs. ‘Stop slacking off and make me come, you asshole.’

His eyes flashed at your brazen words. Shoving you roughly until you were flat on your back, he grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you closer to him. Instantly you cried out as he landed two consecutive slaps on your pussy, holding his heavy hard-on at the base. Pleased with your reaction, he did it again, not saying another word before he bottomed out inside you. A new wave of arousal washed over you, and you clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut. He didn’t even think to spare you the morning soreness as he nailed you like an actual whore.

‘Ah right there, right there- oh fuck, Baëkhyun,’ you sobbed, clawing at his flexed arm, when he placed one of your legs over his shoulder and leaned forward, basically stretching you open for himself.

This position made you feel vulnerable, like you had no choice but to take everything he was giving you, but it was what you needed. His every thrust resonated inside, making your muscles clench, and ripping more curses and moans out of you. Even though his pace was rather brutal, there wasn’t too much pain along with it – Baëkhyun knew all the right spots.

Mouth agape, you arched your back in silent agony, and a few more hits of his thighs later came so hard that it almost made you pass out on the spot. The hand over your mouth muffled your scream, and he let your leg slide off of his shoulder, pressing his palm against it to keep you in place and prevent you from closing your knees.

Muscles contracting uncontrollably, you whimpered at his continued thrusts as you became too sensitive from the drawn-out pleasure, tears soaking your lashes by the time he finally pulled out.

Baëkhyun grunted lowly, and you opened your eyes to witness him jerk himself off at the sight of your swollen, fucked out pussy, not even blinking until thick ropes of his semen painted your lower belly.

Despite having just performed a thorough fucking, he lowered himself on his elbow slowly and brushed the rogue strands of hair away out of your eyes.

‘You’re a naughty one. I love it,’ he murmured, positioning one of his hands on your neck as he kissed you deeply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to be in control.’

And so, you let yourself fall down the rabbit hole. And there was no telling what you’d gotten yourself into.

>> Chapter 3

A/N: Whooo, Baёk is here, stirring some kind of trouble, isn’t he? 🤭 Our poor Y/N-ie is walking on thin ice. What do you think of their relationship? Feels a little bit like cheating, right? Technically it isn’t. But still, the darkness is always pretty seductive...

#baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #exowritersnet #baekhyun x you #icequeenbae fics #Desert Flower #exo smut #baekbaёk

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smarchit · 3 years

Text

Look Around, Look Around pt 1

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband's child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse

Notes: Hey, y’all! I posted this to my Ao3 in January 2020 and am going to be working on cross posting all my works together! If you want to be added to a taglist for this (I’ll be uploading one chapter a day here), please let me know! I’ll also post pt 2, How Lucky We Are, which is still being worked on!

You hoped that by throwing a hood over your hair it would keep people off your trail. At least for a while anyway. Long enough to get you out of the star system.

It was no secret that you ran from your husband. He was cruel to you the moment he wed you. It wasn't your choice to marry him. It was arranged by your father. You hated him. He smelled like sour Bantha milk and made too much noise when he fucked you.

In a way, you were grateful when his private physician confirmed what you had been dreading: a pregnancy. It meant he wouldn't hit you as often at least. Or so you thought.

In a rage one night, he accused you of infidelity and struck you hard enough to cut your cheek and send you reeling into the bed.

You closed your eyes as a sour taste filled your mouth at the memory of what happened next. As you pulled your robes around you closer, the idle chatter that had been going on around you stopped almost instantly as a new patron entered the bar.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you realized who it was. Instinctively, you curled your hand over your belly, still flat but growing firmer everyday, threatening to grow rounder and expose you.

A Mandalorian was in the doorway, scanning the crowd. As his visor finally looked in your direction, you knew it was already too late to run.

He walked around those seated and those in the bar watched him cautiously to make sure he wasn't going to sit at their table.

This Mandalorian slid into the booth across from you and the way his helmet moved up and down ever so slightly gave you the impression that he was scanning your face.

You waited for him to say something. Why was he here? What did he want with you?

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled something out of his pocket and set it in the middle of the table. A bounty puck. A thin blue hologram of your face smiled up at you and you vaguely realized that it was not a recent picture. You hadn't looked that happy in months.

You shrunk into yourself as he adjusted himself in the cramped booth. He still hadn't spoken.

"Please," you whispered, giving a little shake of your head. "Please, no." Unable to stop them, hot tears welled in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks.

A wave of nausea rolled through you and you pressed your hand firmly into your belly as if to say stay calm, little one.

The Mandalorian dropped a pair of cuffs onto the table top. They sounded heavy as they landed with a bang.

"Please don't do this to me," you begged, voice cracking. "Don't take me back to him."

The Mandalorian's hand went to his hip, to rest on a blaster, you assumed. You flinched at the movement.

"I can either bring you in warm," he finally said, his voice sending a chill up your back, "Or I can bring you in cold. It's your choice."

When you didn't answer, he slipped the cuffs over your wrists and clicked them shut. He jerked you out of your seat, ignoring your weak cries of protest. His grip was like iron, and just as cold an unrelenting.

If he sent a Mandalorian bounty hunter after you, he was not going to go easy on you when you arrived home. The thought of it all made you weak with fear. You wouldn't be able to fight him off even if you wanted to.

The walk through town was like the death marches your father often told you about as a child. Where they would march a traitor through town before he was to be executed.

Is that what you were? A traitor? Maybe so, but it didn't feel like you were. Who was it you betrayed? Yourself? Your unborn baby? Certainly not your cretin of a husband.

Your knees began to shake as his ship came into view. The nausea came back stronger and you managed to jerk yourself from the Mandalorian's strong grasp before you vomited, narrowly missing a repair droid that gave an indignant squeal and scurried away.

"You do that on my ship and I'll throw you into carbonite, got it?" he growled, hoisting you up by your collar. He kept a better grip on your arm after that. Already, you could feel a bruise forming under your skin.

You kept your head down as he marched you past the woman who owned the hangar. He held you close as he exchanged a brief conversation with her. You could barely focus on standing up, let alone on what they said.

After a short exchange, the Mandalorian guided you up the ramp and through the hold chamber. A few of his previous bounties were already there, frozen in the carbonite he threatened you with. Surprising to you, he led you past them and up the ladder to the cockpit.

"Sit," he said, nodding at a copilot sear in the corner behind the captain's chair. Finally, blessedly, he released his death grip on your arm.

He took his seat with a soft grunt and prepared for take off, not paying you any mind as he did so.

You closed your eyes as the ship ascended, fighting back nausea. You wanted to wash your mouth out. And maybe use the fresher. You wondered if he would let you use it.

All of that left your mind as you dropped into the seat as a horrific realization dawned on you. The sour taste filled your mouth again.

"He had a bounty on me," you said quietly, your voice hoarse as more tears ran down your cheeks. "He's going to kill me, please, you can't take me back."

The Mandalorian hit a few switches as he punched in some coordinates on the controls before he spoke again.

"That's not my problem," he said as he reached for the hyper control switch. He looked around for a moment and grumbled something under his breath. He slid the switch slowly using the tip of his finger, sending the ship into hyperspace.

"Didn't he tell you what he wanted me for?" you asked, sinking lower into the chair.

"Didn't ask," he grunted as he watched a little silver ball roll out from under your seat as the ship lurched forward. He stuck his foot out to catch it and picked it up to screw it back on. "That's not how it works. Just said you stole something valuable from him."

You opened your mouth to reply, but a soft coo caught your attention. It even caught he Mandalorian's attention; he looked over your shoulder in the direction the noise came from.

He stood up with a heavy sigh and went into the little hallway behind the cockpit.

"Hey, you little womp rat," he murmured as he bent low to retrieve something off the floor. He stood up and cradled it in his arms. "Peli said you were asleep."

There was another babble before you realized -

"You have a baby?" you asked, somewhat startled as you turned in your chair. Maybe this bounty hunter wasn't as cruel as you thought. A plan began to form itself in your head.

"A foundling," he corrected sharply, turning back to you. "I'm raising him."

The Mandalorian started back over to the pilot's seat when the baby peaked his head over his shoulder and babbled at you. The largest pair of eyes and ears you ever saw looked down at you. A tiny clawed hand reached out to give you a wave.

"Oh hi, little one," you cooed, bringing cuffed hands up to wave back. You loved babies. Always wanted a few of your own as a girl. You just didn't want to have them with the man who you married.

"Don't talk to the kid," the Mandalorian snapped. He sat down again and pulled the kid into his lap.

The baby reached for the little ball on the switch and the bounty hunter sighed heavily and pushed his little hand away.

The cry that the baby let out made your breasts ache and you hissed slightly in pain. You brought your arms up and awkwardly pressed them against your chest.

"You gonna be sick again?" he asked, sounding vaguely irritated. He turned his chair to look at you.

"No," you murmured, glancing down and hoping you hadn't leaked over your shirt.

"Good."

After a long silence, filled only with the sound of the baby babbling and the dull roar of space travel, he spoke again.

"So what did you steal from this guy?" he asked, turning the chair the whole way around to face you.

"Thought you didn't ask," you quipped, raising a brow. You supposed it wouldn't hurt to be feisty. You were most likely going to be dead after you had the baby - and even then you were going to spend the last few months of life locked away so what did it matter?

"You just don't seem like you can do much of anything," he replied, making a vague gesture with his hand. "Didn't really put up a fight."

You wanted to be offended, but he was right. You were too tired to do anything, really. It had been weeks since you fled in the middle of the night. You hadn't gotten a good night sleep since...

You shuddered and pressed the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to not throw up again.

"Hey, you want a bucket or something?" he asked. Something was in his voice that hadn't been there earlier. Sympathy? Maybe slight disgust at the thought of you throwing up on his ship.

"No, no," you said, shaking your head. "Just... What I stole is finally catching up to me."

The Mandalorian sat up a little straighter in his chair. "What?" he asked quietly.

"I..." You hesitated for a moment before letting out a shaky laugh. Why did it matter if you told him? "It wasn't money or jewels or anything like that that I stole from him. I... I stole his unborn child."

The child in his lap turned and looked up at the Mandalorian as if he understood. He cooed and wiggled, demanding he be put down. Distracted, he set the little one down and watched him totter around the cockpit before he glanced back up at you.

You looked at him, silently begging him to say something. Anything.

When he didn't, you hung your head and folded your hands in your lap as if silently accepting your fate.

A few minutes later, the Mandalorian sighed and shook his head when you looked up. "Wasn't the answer I expected."

You smiled sadly and shrugged. "Doesn't matter. He's getting me back. I did mean what I said earlier. He's going to kill me or... Worse."

"You should get some sleep," he said quickly. "I'll take you to him tomorrow."

Your heart sank. He's still going to take you back and he acted like he didn't even care about what you told him.

Before you could cry again, you curled up in the chair and closed your eyes.

It took a while, but you finally drifted off to sleep, that dull roar of engine amd the soft cooing of the child lulling you into a deep sleep.

***

When you woke with a start the next day, the first thing that you noticed was that the ship was no longer moving.

Your heart sank. He'd brought you back to your husband after all. You couldn't really say you were surprised - just another bounty.

The second thing that you noticed was that the handcuffs had been removed. You flexed your hands and rubbed your chaffed wrists. The scarring was going to be the least of your worries now.

You also became aware that you were laying in down in a bed, a scratchy blanket pulled up to your throat.

What's going on?

Outside the door, you heard a baby giggling. The baby from last night.

You sat up a little too quickly and groaned as nausea hit you for the first, but mostly definitely not last time today. It's okay, little one, you thought, your hand pressed against your own belly. Stay in there, you're safe with me.

Once you used the fresher and cleaned yourself up as best you could, you made your way down to the holding area where light was now streaming inside. The baby was still giggling and squealing and you swore you heard other children laughing and playing. As you neared the hatch, you heard voices.

"---just for a while. Until I know she's safe," you heard the Mandalorian say from outside the hatch.

"Think it's smart?" someone, a woman, based on the tone, asked, "What if he sends someone else?"

"That's why I brought her here. Figured you could protect her."

"What am I, a body guard? I already told you I don't do the baby thing."

"There won't be one of those for a while. It's just for a week or two. I've got some stuff I want to take care of."

"You know you can't save everyone, right?"

A pause.

"I know."

Knowing that the Mandalorian was probably going to reenter the ship and catch you eavesdropping, you walked into the light and down the ramp.

The conversation immediately stopped and the person the Mandalorian was speaking to nodded at him to get his attention.

He turned quickly to you and held his arm out for you to step off the ramp. He definitely noticed your flinch as he held his arm out a bit too quickly to you.

"Morning. Sleep okay?"

You nodded hesitantly and looked around at the flat marshes and tall trees around you. It was far different than the planet you'd been sequestered to upon your marriage. "Where am I?"

"Sorgan. Small planet. Safe. No large cities or densities. You'll be safe here."

"You're just dumping me here?"

The woman he was with raised her eyebrow and tilted her head in his direction. "Told you it didn't sound great."

The Mandalorian did a double take at the woman and then back at you. "I'm not dumping. I'm making sure you're safe. This is Cara Dune. She'll protect you. I told her everything."

"Nice to meet you," she said with a half smile.

You gave an uncertain smile back and held your hand out to her. She shook it, careful not to move too fast.

"I trust Cara with my life," he said, looking over at her. He quickly added, "And the kid's life."

Like you needed anymore reasons to trust the two of them.

Unable to stop them from coming, tears rolled down your cheeks and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you cried.

"Hey, you okay?" Cara asked, stepping forward toward you. The Mandalorian held a hand up to stop her in case you needed space.

You shook your head. "N-no, I'm fine. It's just... This is the most kindness I've known in so long. Thank you."

"No one deserves to be treated like that," the Mandalorian said softly. He then turned and bent to pick up the baby, who had waddled over to him.

"We'll be back soon," he told you. Then he turned to Cara. "Tell Omera thank you for the food. I'm sure it'll last us a while." He held up his hand to her and she clapped it tightly against his.

"Until then," he said.

"Until then," she repeated. Cara grinned and waved at him as he walked back up the ramp.

He gave a small wave to you as the door slid shut.

When the ship disappeared into the sky, Cara turned to you with a small smile.

"Come on, there's breakfast waiting."

Permanent taglist (if you want to be added, lmk!):

@miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703

#my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #no use of y/n

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restapesta · 3 years

Text

done for

I read somewhere that there weren’t enough s3 and s2 moments between Ian and Mickey written, and I completely agreed, so this was born! This is sort of a speedwrite thing, because it took me 50 minutes which I had set for myself to write this, and it’s kind of short (there was so much word vomit and I just cut all of that lol). Anyway, this is basically Ian and Mickey’s kiss after the first one, and no, it’s not during the sleepover because that’s just triggering knowing what comes next lol (this is kind of between the van kiss and invite to the sleepover). Enjoy!

Mickey opened a dam by kissing Ian that first time in the van; he was unaware of how much water would overflow with that one simple press of lips. Getting shot in the ass was a warning—a clear sign from the universe not to fucking try to do it again—but fuck if he could stop Ian from finishing what Mickey himself had started. It took only a few days for Ian to do what Mickey had encouraged him enough to achieve.

It took until the next time they saw each other.

They were in the Kash 'n Grab, inching for their usual break, and Ian seemed strange. His eyes held a sort of primal stare that locked Mickey in and forbade him from escaping. Ian held his gaze, all while locking the door insinuatingly, nodding towards the freezer. Mickey understood, but hesitated, confident that this whole thing wouldn’t be just another one of their average hookups. Ian and Mickey had never been average, but their normal was fucking, pants around their ankles, barely any unnecessary touches, and no kissing.

Mickey stupidly erased that important fucking boundary, and all it took to do so was a simple challenge in Ian’s voice; he’s not afraid to kiss me. And fuck Ian for making everything infuriatingly complicated.

Mickey wasn’t afraid of anything—if he could handle juvie and drug runs, he could handle kissing Ian fucking Gallagher, even if he was a dude. Mickey never backed down from a challenge; he was a Milkovich, taking a challenge head-on was in his blood. And it wouldn’t even mean anything. It’s just lips pressing together. Mickey had kissed many girls in his eighteen years of life, and they never meant shit to him. He wasn’t even fucking gay. He enjoyed having something up his ass, but that didn’t mean he liked Ian. Ian just had a good dick.

Ian wasn’t a bad guy and maybe Mickey did like hanging out with him, but romantic stuff? Mickey wasn’t a fag like Ian, he didn’t have feelings for him and all that bullshit.

When he kissed him—even though he said it meant nothing; even if he wanted to keep pretending that he hadn’t daydreamed about Ian touching his mouth to his own more times than he could count—he couldn’t. Not anymore, at least. The kiss was quick. Barely even there. And yet, it lingered. It lingered inside Mickey’s mind days after as he lay on his stomach, trying to relieve the pain from the bullet wound on his ass cheek. He kept replaying the moment in his head; the fucking feeling that followed it.

Mickey never felt fucking butterflies because he wasn’t a fucking teenaged girl, but the warmth in the pit of his stomach suggested otherwise. It only appeared when he was around Ian—it was simply there these past years he had known Gallagher, and Mickey wasn’t really used to it; it made him icky and nervous. Now, the warmth spread from his abdomen towards other parts of his body, and not just his dick. The feeling encompassed his chest, his legs, his hands; it left him tingling all over, and there was a dull ache in his ribcage, as if somebody had taken his heart in their hand and squeezed it.

Mickey didn’t know if he should blame Gallagher for it—would that be admitting something to himself and to Ian? He didn’t care, especially not now when the guy in question was coming up behind him in the cold room they always used as hookup spot in the store. Not when Ian had a dangerous look in his eyes, a glint that Mickey couldn't place.

Ian was perfect; he always had been, much to Mickey’s chagrin, who just wanted to dub him as annoyingly clingy and get rid of his aggravating presence. But he couldn’t; not when Ian smiled and flashed his white teeth. Not when his freckles multiplied in the summer glow. And definitely not when he grew from a cute kid with dark red bangs to the type of guy who made Mickey’s dick hard with just the mental image of his chiseled body. Mickey could also lie and say Ian’s dimples didn’t turn him on, and that his stupid laugh didn’t churn his insides. That he didn’t feel nauseous in the best and worst ways when Ian got closer.

That Ian wasn’t getting closer in every single way possible.

The ginger was here now in Mickey’s space. Green eyes dark with lust and confidence, and suddenly, Mickey didn’t have a clue what to do. Ian was in charge, with his pale hands caressing Mickey’s face, fingertips passing over his lips. The action stunned Mickey, and he was sure his eyes were wide and wild, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t force himself to stop Ian; to tell him the usual, no, I’m not what you think I am, I don’t like you. Get the fuck off me.

Ian was intoxicating; he was like a drug Mickey once tried, and now couldn’t stop taking. Ian gave him a high like Mickey had never experienced. He made him hide his smiles and laughter; he made him dream, and for the first time in years, the dreams weren’t nightmares. Ian made him feel happy.

He was leaning in now. Mickey didn’t want to stop him. He had drawn a line they shouldn’t’ve crossed, that he said Ian shouldn’t cross. But didn’t Mickey completely erase that with the van thing?

Ian was kissing him now, his soft lips pressing against Mickey’s, agonizingly slow. They were just touching. One moment there, so soft, and the next, gone. Ian, pulling away, forced Mickey to meet his eyes as his insides twisted into tight knots, unrelenting. There was a whole fucking swarm of bees in his stomach and they were stinging him, and fuck, Ian’s eyes were so shiny.

HIs eyes were closing again as Ian dipped his head. It was different now; Ian wasn’t just letting their conjoined mouths rest—he was moving his soft lips. They were kissing, and Ian was gripping Mickey’s head, thumb caressing his cheek, and Mickey let himself get kissed because it felt so good. And fuck, not even sex was this amazing.

This wasn’t raw lust and passion. This wasn’t what Ian and Mickey were, fuck-buddies, border-lining friends.

This was a lover’s kiss, and Mickey would never admit how good it felt. How his entire body seemed to boil from the heat, even if they were in a goddamn cooler. Mickey couldn’t even stop to wonder if he was doing this right; hadn’t he been told by many girls that he was a terrible kisser? Good fuck, shitty kisser. He stopped kissing girls during sex after that, but was he doing good now? Was Ian… he shouldn’t be thinking that, not when Ian was slipping his tongue past Mickey’s parted lips, after he came up to gasp for air.

He didn’t even need air right now. He needed Ian, and there was no doubt in his mind anymore. Not a single one as he positioned himself better, and gripped Ian’s face and Ian’s red locks, tugging at them.

This feeling; their tongues meeting and setting Mickey on fire, making the swarm of bees become wasps and spread from his stomach to his chest, was indescribable. Blood shot straight down to his dick. And there was something about kissing Ian, about the way he bit his lower lip with his teeth, pulling on it. About the way he dug his hands into Mickey’s sides, pressing him impossibly closer, that made Mickey feel like there was nothing else in this world but Ian.

Ian, who strolled into his life with nothing but a fucking tire iron.

Ian, who was his perfect match. The top to his fucking bottom.

Ian, who had somehow become his best fucking friend.

Ian, who was kissing him like Mickey was the only person in the entire universe.

Breathless, panting, they pulled apart. Ian seemed like he was barely standing upright, and Mickey understood. His knees were wobbly, and he could barely hold himself straight; would probably topple over if it wasn’t for Ian, holding him by his waist. His lips were red and swollen, and he was looking at Mickey with his eyes swimming with lust and maybe something more. He looked so hot.

And then Ian smiled his wonderful smile, and Mickey couldn’t stop himself. This was when he fucking surrendered because there was no way he could fight the urge anymore.

It was the moment he admitted to himself that Ian Gallagher had crept his way inside of Mickey, both literally and figuratively, and it would be impossible to cast him out now. Not when he finally knew what it felt like to kiss him. To be kissed by him.

Mickey was fucking done for.

He knew it as he pressed forward to kiss Ian chastely on the lips again. He couldn’t stop himself; this wasn’t him. He didn’t kiss guys. He wasn’t fucking gay.

But this was Ian, and Ian was so fucking beautiful with his pale skin, his emerald green eyes, and his fucking freckles, and, oh God, his lips. His fucking lips.

How could Mickey not fall in...

No.

Ian kissed him again, and Mickey lost his trail of thought.

“See,” He started as they pulled apart, again. “You should’ve let me kiss you a long time ago.”

And Mickey was so fucking lucky, because he remembered to scoff and not just stare at Ian like a love-struck idiot. “Dream on, this wasn’t that good.”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

“Oh?” Ian didn’t seem too deterred, but he was still leery. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Mickey didn’t know how to reply. Of course he wasn’t, and Ian didn’t need to be worried, so Mickey replied the only way he knew how.

He grinned teasingly, “Maybe you should try again, and see if it works better.”

Ian smiled that fucking gorgeous, amazing smile, and kissed Mickey. He kissed him and Mickey felt so high that he didn’t think any drug could ever replicate what he was feeling now. The bliss he had never felt, not even in the best of orgasms Ian had given him. This right here; this was better than all the best times in his life combined, and it scared Mickey. It scared him so much.

There was no coming back from this. But Mickey didn’t want to come back; he had jumped off of a fucking cliff the first time Ian Gallagher told one of his stupid puns, and made Mickey want to laugh at how adorable he was.

He knew he was fucked then. And he knew he was fucked now.

“Better?” Ian’s breath fanned Mickey’s face.

“Maybe.”

And they didn’t stop kissing. Not when they left for the abandoned buildings; Ian didn’t waste time pushing Mickey down onto the hot pavement and slipping his tongue into Mickey’s mouth, effectively lighting him on fire. Mickey was hotter than the blazing Sun burning their backs through their thin summer clothes.

They didn’t stop kissing the next day, either. Ian was smart; he didn’t greet Mickey with a kiss in the middle of the street, but he pushed him against the wall the moment they were alone and out of sight, clasping their mouths together as if Mickey was the air he needed to breathe.

And Mickey let him.

He let him do whatever he wanted, because there was no fight let in him—no resignation. No hope to push Ian away anymore.

There was nobody out there like Ian Gallagher. And Ian Gallagher belonged to him; Mickey knew it in the way he pushed forward to meet every kiss and every thrust of his tongue inside his mouth Ian sent his way.

He would never get kissed like this by anyone else, ever again.

Mickey was aware, even then, that he would kiss Ian Gallagher for the rest of his fucking damned life, no matter how short it was.

It sealed his fate for fucking good and there was no going back.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ianxmickey #fluff #ian and mickey #first kiss #second kiss #season 3 #canon compliant #sort of #Shameless US #fanfc #gallavich fan fic

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geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde · 3 years

Text

He’s Not Important

Valdo is the perfect man, he really is. He’s thoughtful, he’s kind, he loves Jaskier. Jaskier wants something else.

Jaskier/Valdo (current), Jaskier/Geralt (past)

Warnings: Heavy angst, rough sex, violence, drug and alcohol use, dub-con*, adultery, toxic people and their toxic relationships, overuse of flashbacks, Valdo’s not the bad guy in this one, ending is ambiguous and all characters could be happy one day with a lot of therapy so y’know... *marking as dubcon because, at times, all parties were unable to fully consent due to drugs/alcohol and also the mental states of Jaskier and Geralt are questionable at *all* times

Jaskier smiled the most enthusiastic smile he could manage as Valdo opened the door to the restaurant, ushering him inside. He was doing his best to feel excited; it was their anniversary after all, and the restaurant was amazing, and he was here with his boyfriend of two years.

He worried his smile fell flat.

It shouldn’t, really. He should be thrilled, happy to be here. Valdo was amazing, the perfect gentleman at all times. He was kind and thoughtful and everything you should want from a partner. And every time he smiled at Jaskier and told him how much he loved him, Jaskier felt empty inside. There was no reason for this, Valdo was easily the best boyfriend Jaskier had ever had, certainly the kindest and most thoughtful. All of his friends were jealous, they looked at Valdo and saw the epitome of boyfriend material. He truly cared about Jaskier’s wellbeing, his thoughts, his feelings, it was amazing. It should be everything Jaskier needed from a relationship, everything he could want.

It wasn’t.

He craved more. He would lie awake at night remembering his last relationship, the fire that ran through his veins. The urgency, the passion.

Jaskier had never felt those things with Valdo.

It was like an addiction and he was hopeless to stop it. His skin itched as he tried to pick a fight, to get Valdo to raise his voice, to throw something at a wall. But he never did, Valdo stayed calm and kind and wanted to understand what was wrong, wanted to help.

It was too much for Jaskier.

Sitting across from Valdo in the restaurant, Jaskier knew that he could easily let himself stay in this miserable dead-end relationship. He would be fine.

Not happy. Never happy.

He would never be happy, though.

Jaskier groaned as his back was slammed up against the nearest wall. He felt Geralt’s mouth on his neck, biting down as he ground his hips against Jaskier’s.

They had been arguing, again. Geralt missed another dinner, one they had been planning for weeks. He said he was busy at work, that he got held up. He got held up at work a lot.

Jaskier had spent hours agonizing over the meal, cleaning the apartment, he had gone out of his way to pick up the hard-to-find imported beer Geralt favored. It was supposed to be special. But Geralt stumbled in two hours late, smelling like whiskey and cigarettes, excuses falling off of his lips as soon as he took in the sight of Jaskier sitting dejectedly at the table, the now cold meal still sitting in front of him.

The excuses were too much, making Jaskier see red. The next thing he realized, his plate was flying through the air, slamming into the wall behind Geralt, shattering all over the ground. And then Jaskier was pushed up against a wall, teeth digging into his neck. And then he was bent over the kitchen counter, more dishes being pushed off as he tried to brace himself. Geralt pushed into him brutally, making Jaskier grunt as he was rhythmically forced up against the cabinets. He groaned at the pain, already feeling the bruises forming.

“How was last week, by the way? When I was out of town. I hope you weren’t too lonely with me gone.” Valdo tried to strike up conversation as they looked over their menus. Jaskier didn’t respond.

Geralt was like a drug Jaskier just couldn’t seem to quit. Memories of their time together haunted Jaskier, he could still practically feel the man’s grip, tight and unrelenting, as he pounded into him from behind after they fought again. He could still feel his teeth biting down, too hard, always too hard, on Jaskier’s thigh, marking him, claiming him.

It was little surprise that Jaskier ended up back in Geralt’s bed despite their breakup, despite his current relationship with Valdo. But Valdo was out of town and Jaskier had an itch he needed scratched. And Geralt, well Geralt had always managed to scratch that itch better than anyone else ever had.

It was just a matter of sending a simple text, “you home?” and then Jaskier was in Geralt’s apartment, bent in half as Jaskier screamed out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Geralt was just as rough as Jaskier remembered him being, just as aggressive, just as uncaring of Jaskier’s pleasure, simply taking his own.

Jaskier loved it.

Jaskier smiled politely at the waiter as the man stumbled through taking their order, staring at Jaskier as if he recognized him. As he walked away, Jaskier couldn’t help but notice the tattoo on the back of the man’s forearm, a memory hitting him like a truck.

Jaskier leaned on the man in front of him, letting their bodies rub together. His hands were woven through the man’s hair. The man had a tattooed arm wrapped around him, one hand down the back of Jaskier’s pants, gripping his ass tightly and grinding them together, his other hand still holding the drink Jaskier had first approached him with.

He felt himself being moved backward, toward the bathrooms. He was desperate, the vodka mixing with the ecstasy in ways that clouded Jaskier’s head, making him whine, every sensation amplified tenfold. His head spun with lust and he felt himself pressed up against the door of the bathroom.

SMASH

Jaskier forced his eyes open, focusing on the sight in front of him. Geralt, hovering in front of him, Jaskier’s… friend’s drink, smashed on the ground, the man in question thrown on the ground. Suddenly, Geralt has a hand on Jaskier’s shirt, pulling and manhandling him out of the back exit of the club, pushing him up against the wall of the alleyway.

Jaskier keens at the first thrust, Geralt pushing into him with far too little preparation. The drag of skin on skin like lightning shooting through his veins. He’s achingly hard, crying for more, harder, and then it’s over. Geralt’s done, telling Jaskier to pull up his pants and hurry the fuck up so they don’t miss the last train.

Jaskier brings himself on that night sitting on the floor of the shower, his hands scraped and bloody from the wall in the alleyway.

He cries.

Jaskier leaned over the bar biting his lip as he practically stared down the shirt of the bartender, “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to convince you to spend the night with me?”

She frowned back at him, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not important.”

Crossing her arm in front of her, she wouldn’t even meet Jaskier’s eyes, “I’m not a homewrecker.”

“You wouldn’t be wrecking any homes, like I said, he’s not important.”

“I can’t take you home, I have a roommate.”

Jaskier smiled, he had known from the moment he saw her he would have her, “Well then I’ll take you back with me.”

“To the apartment you share with your boyfriend?” She sounded skeptical, but not nearly as opposed as she probably should have.

“I’ll put a sock on the door, he can wait outside.”

“That’s fucked up.”

Jaskier shrugged, standing up to his full height and throwing back the rest of his drink, the burn in his throat sending warmth through him, “Do you want to fuck, or not? Because if you’re amenable, I’d like to spend at least an hour with my head between your legs.”

The woman glanced over his shoulder to where Valdo sat quietly, waiting for Jaskier to come back with the drinks he said he was going to get about half an hour ago. Jaskier had been hoping that maybe by flirting with the bartender, Valdo would get riled up, drag Jaskier back home and claim him, make him understand who he belonged to.

Instead, Valdo just… waited.

“You’re sure he won’t mind?” The girl finally asked.

“Doesn’t really matter if he does or doesn’t, I’ll get you off either way. Three times if you behave.”

The woman flushed and grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling her phone number on it and sliding it across the bar, “I’m off work at three.”

“I’ll text you where to meet me.”

…

“She seemed nice!”

“She wants to fuck me,” Jaskier responded dully, throwing her number on the table in front of Valdo so he could see her name scrawled on it.

Valdo smiled back at him, “Well of course she does. Look at you. If I didn’t already have you then I would be trying to get your attention too!”

“I want to fuck her.”

“Oh… well, I don’t blame you. She’s beautiful. And like I said, so are you. I’m lucky to have you.”

Jaskier stands up abruptly, grabbing his jacket, “I’m leaving.” He storms out of the building.

Hours later when he stumbles into their apartment, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes and a woman’s perfume, Valdo asks no questions, just helps Jaskier clean up and makes sure he’s okay.

The meal came and they ate in silence, Jaskier focusing on his plate until Valdo cleared his throat. Jaskier looked up, trying hard to not look bored and undoubtedly failing. Valdo stood from his seat, kneeling on the floor beside Jaskier.

Fuck.

“Jaskier, I love you so much and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. Will you marry me?”

Jaskier felt like the world was spinning around him, crashing down. His cheat seized; his hands shook. He needed out.

“No.”

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