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#“Could they even walk in those” and other distressed thoughts
ominouspuff · 2 months
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failing to draw practical legwear in three unique ways today
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ceruleanchillin · 5 months
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But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)
Note(s) -
It's long, so be warned.
The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.
Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory. 
I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.
And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.
Simon:
Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.
You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.
You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.
Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.
Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.
He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.
You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.
He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’
As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.
‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?
You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer. 
He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.
He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.
He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.
You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.
You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.
“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”
He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.
“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.
Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.
“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.
“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.
The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.
You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him. 
You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”
He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”
You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”
You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing. 
Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”
“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”
He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.
For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.
“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”
The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.
That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.
You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.
After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by. 
Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation. 
Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.
You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).
It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.
He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator. 
Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.
On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.
The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.
Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.
Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.
You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.
If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.
You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.
It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.
You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.
Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.
The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.
Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”
You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”
“You wanna ride there on the roof?”
The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.
Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two. 
Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.
He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.
To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.
He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often. 
Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.
When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together. 
One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours. 
It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.
Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on. 
You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically. 
On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”
Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”
He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”
“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.” 
Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”
You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”
He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.
You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.
The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him. 
Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.
There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else. 
When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.
Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.
He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.
The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.
All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.
You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.
You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.
You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.
Then came the topic of your boyfriend.
“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price
“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap
“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz
 It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’ 
During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.
Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.
“Have fun with the boys, bird?”
“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.
Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”
You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.
He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you. 
“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”
You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.
Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.
You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”
“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”
Kyle:
He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.
Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.
The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.
“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price
“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)
Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.” 
Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.
You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.
You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.
His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.
He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:
“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”
“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”
He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”
“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.
“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”
He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.
“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time. 
Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.
“You’ll get it next time, love.”
He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.
“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”
“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.
Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was. 
He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”
Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.
“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.
“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”
Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.
This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of. 
When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.
He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.
 He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.
When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.
It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.
He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.
“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.
“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”
Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.
You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.
He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.
Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.
You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.
“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”
You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”
Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”
Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”
“Blud, that’s not what you want.”
“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead. 
“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.
Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.
He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate. 
“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.
“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”
Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”
“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’
“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.
He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.
“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.
“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.
Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.
He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.
“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide. 
Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.
“Yes ma'am.” 
Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.
Johnny:
You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.
You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.
Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you. 
You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.
The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it. 
He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing. 
He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back. 
When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.
It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.
Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.
He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.
“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.
“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”
You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”
“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”
Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.
Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.
“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.
He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.
You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”
“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”
You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.
“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!” 
Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”
Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space. 
“We’ll see.”
Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.
It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend. 
You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.
Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.
“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours. 
You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.
He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”
You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.
John Price:
Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.
The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.
That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.
You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.
He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”
Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”
“Yes.” 
“Well…thank you for your service.” 
Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.
Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.
Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.
“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”
“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.” 
“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.
John wanted to see him try just one.
“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”
You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.
Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him. 
“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.
Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to. 
However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.
It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.
One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.
“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.
“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.
He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.
You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding. 
He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.
“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”
There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.
With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that. 
Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.
There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile. 
Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place. 
“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”
And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.
He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.
You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.
Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.
Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.
He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.
Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.
The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.
You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.
Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.
Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.
The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.
At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.
Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.
It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.
 He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.
“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.
It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth. 
Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?
Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”
Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.
“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”
John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward. 
“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”
“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.
“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”
“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.
He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”
“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.
“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).” 
You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.
He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.
It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.
“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”
In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-
“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”
“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”
“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”
Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”
There it was. John swallowed, hard. 
“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”
John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”
“Just one time.”
It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.
He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back. 
“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.
His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”
What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.
He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.
John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.
He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?
How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?
The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.
He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.
When he stepped into the hall, he paused.
You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.
“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”
“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.
You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”
You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.
“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.
“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.
“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.
“I would hope not.” he also took another step
You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.
“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.
You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”
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Text
TENDER CARE. 18+
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pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary. you’ve been feeling insecure lately and your boyfriend, bucky knows just the way to make you feel pretty
word count. 2847
warnings. 18+ only!! hurt/comfort, reader feeling insecure, lots of hand kissing bc that shit makes me weak, kissing in general, praise, body worshiping, oral (f receiving) little bit of titty stuff, unprotected pinv sex, bucky being the best bf. minors dni
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It was late, the evening quiet - the winter moon, a bright slither of silver amongst the dark blue sky. 
As you lay in your bed, admiring her -the moon’s- beauty through the condensation of your window, your mind begins to drift, irrationality throwing hurdles at you. Your brain darting back and forth to those same thoughts you've been having more of lately - ones where doubt and insecurity flood any sense of logicality. 
You knew you had no reason to feel this way. Your boyfriend always went to grave lengths to ensure you felt loved and appreciated, showing you nothing but tender care. Though, there was just something in your brain, that little green gremlin instilling distrust within you - no fault to him.
You felt isolated with your sense of humility, often feeling as though you didn't have someone to confide in, someone to talk to. It wasn't an easy topic to bring up, and although you felt comfortable enough with Bucky to share your mind freely, this was something that you just could not stomach. 
Not only were you thinking about yourself, you were thinking of Bucky. The thought of admitting to him you felt insecure in your relationship felt like the highest form of betrayal. To confess to the man who's been torn apart and stitched together more times than one can count - that you felt unlovable, was something you couldn't bear. 
The amount of hurt you would cause him simply by sharing was enough to deter you. So, for that reason alone, you kept it hidden. Letting yourself wallow in the crappy feeling unaided. 
Your phone vibrates on your nightstand beside you, the screen obnoxiously bright - the white almost blinding you within your dim bedroom. Teary-eyed, you peek over at the caller ID, your boyfriend's name displayed beside his picture. 
You wanted to talk to him - to hear his voice, but you knew your wavering tone would give away your dismal state. So, you let his call go to voicemail, like all his others from this evening. 
Feeling guilt-ridden for declining his calls, you pick up your phone, deciding to send him a text instead. But when you unlock your phone, you see a pile of missed messages from Bucky, each text growing more and more worried at your sudden disappearance - his last one reading, 'I'll be over in 10' which was nearly ten minutes ago. 
You exhale in frustration, cursing yourself as you wipe your eyes - carefully blotting the sensitive skin with one hand, the other typing a response. You decided on a small, white lie, replying, 'sorry, I was sleeping.'
The second your thumb presses send, you hear a frantic string of taps on your door - the repeated sound of knuckles knocking. You take a moment to situate yourself before making your way to your front entrance, socked feet paddling over to answer. 
You peek through the peephole, your boyfriend on the other side - visibly distressed as he rakes through the front strands of his hair. You reach for the handle, unlocking the door with an expression you were sure to be disgrace. "I'm so sorry. I was in—" you start.
"Are you okay? You didn't answer. I got worried— I thought something happened," Bucky cuts you off, walking past you and stepping into your apartment.
You close the door behind him, turning to meet his frazzled features. "I know, I know. I'm really sorry. My phone was on silent, and I was in bed. I didn't see anything til just now," you confess, sharing parts of the truth.
He deeply exhales, gaze softening as he looks over you. He pauses, seeming like he's analysing you, eyes honing in on your evading ones. "What's wrong?" 
You knew your gag would be up sooner or later, but you didn't expect it to be this soon. Sometimes, it was like your boyfriend knew things about you before you even did yourself - as though you failed to remember who you were talking to.
"Nothing," you smile, kissing his cheek as you step past him. "Just tired— didn't sleep properly."
"Yeah?" he hums, not quite believing your half-truths. He kicks off his boots and follows you into your room, soft footsteps behind you like a shadow. "How was your day?" he asks, talking like he's scoping you out.
You sit on the foot of your bed, shrugging at him dismissingly. "Same old. How was yours?"
He steps towards you, eyes darting around your room before focusing on you - everything becoming more apparent. "Fine. Good," he nods, softly groaning as he takes a crouch in front of you, kneeling on the floor between your legs so he's level with you. "What's wrong? What's going on?" he asks, eyes following you with the movement of his head, brows narrowing.
"Nothing," you reply, speaking faintly. Responding minimally in case your voice were to break.
"No?" he questions, placing a delicate hand over your knee - the palm emitting warmth onto your skin through the fabric of your pyjamas.
You shake your head, bottom lip beginning to waver under his attention. 
"Then what's on your mind?" he asks gently, his tone warm and concerned.
"I told you," you avoid his eyes, looking down at your hands on your lap. "Didn't sleep well."
He sighs at your tenacity to push him away, head cocking to the side. He adjusts the stance on his knees, and your hands scramble for him - reaching out and holding onto him as if you were to stop him from leaving. Though only he wasn't leaving - he was just getting more comfortable. 
"I wasn't leaving," he murmurs, slipping his hands into yours, thumb brushing over the back of your hand assuringly. "Did you think I was going to leave you?" he asks, lips lining into a faint frown.
You notice his brows tug upwards in the middle, the tell-tell sign he was beginning to think too hard. "No, I was just— I... don't know."
"Well, I'm not," he responds shortly, speaking like he was being stern with you - tough love. "Now, what's going on with you?" he asks, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring squeeze, the silent act encouraging you. 
You inhale steadily, letting the air fill your lungs. "I haven't been feeling good."
He keeps his eyes on yours, following you. "Okay, why?" he questions shortly, wanting to get to the root of the problem as quickly as possible.
"I've been sad."
"Why?
You shrug. "I just have."
"I need more than that. Why have you been sad?"
"I don't know."
"Why?" he repeats, brows straightening.  
"Because I feel... ugly."
He hesitates, his shoulders slumping at your confession, visibly digesting your words. "Ugly?" he recites, the remark leaving a foul taste on his tongue. "Honey," he lingers, softly shaking his head.
Bucky stills, his forehead creasing with what you perceive to be pity. His mouth opens as though he's going to say something, only for it to snap back shut. He faintly sighs, bringing your hand to his lips. "You know that's not true, right?" he rhetorically asks, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.
You don't say anything, the only reply being a short exhale and an awkward smile.
"Because I think you..." he pauses, kissing another patch into your hand. "Are the prettiest," a slow smile lining his lips - an expression that's now mirroring yours.
It was so simple. Everything Bucky did to reassure you - he did with ease. Just the tiny, loving act instantly melting the tension in your mind. His care for you pushing away any sense of self-doubt.
He peppers another kiss into your hand. And another - littering a short string of them over your wrist. "Don't listen to your brain, okay? She's not always right," he murmurs, expression softening like it was reassuring his words.
"I know," you nod, weakly smiling at him. "Just—"
"Hard. I know," Bucky finishes your sentence, nodding at you understandingly. 
He leans forward and places a soft kiss on the centre of your lips - his own brushing over yours sweetly, the action grounding and comforting. He pulls away first, eyes half-lidded as they glance over you, focusing on the almost pleading look on your face.
Your free hand reaches up to his face, palm enclosing his jaw as you bring him back in for a kiss - lips working over his more urgently than the time before. 
"Thank you," you mumble against his mouth, merely pulling away to show your appreciation. "You're so kind to me."
His grip loosens on your hand, now sliding both up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss - tongue slipping into your mouth willingly. His lips leave yours, trailing a line of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your throat. 
"Always," he murmurs, the short word muffling into your skin. Whispering, "I want to show you just how pretty you are."
A soft whine-like hum vibrates in your throat, the noise accepting his words eagerly. Your hand trails into the short strands of hair at the back of his head, fingers grazing his scalp as you hold him to the crook of your neck. Neck tilting to the side, allowing him more access to you as you reach for his jacket, pushing the fabric off his broad shoulders. 
He presses a final kiss into a patch of your skin and pulls away, looking at your ever-softening features - eyes and brows growing pliant under his attention. His hands slowly roam down to the hem of your t-shirt, fingers hooking under the fabric as they lift, pulling it off your head in a steady, swift motion.
You sit in front of him, chest bare and on display in front of him, letting him take you in - not shying away like you did earlier.
Bucky remains quiet, his eyes fixed on the lewd sight before him, silently storing the image for safekeeping. He brings his hands up towards your tits, cupping under each - holding them in his palms. "So beautiful," he hums, leaning in to place a kiss on the swell below your nipple, giving his attention to each breast.
He rolls them in his strong hands, delicately playing and toying with them, thumbs skimming over your sensitive, hardening nipples, pressing kisses into the skin above. He looks up at you from between your tits, eyes full of love, full of warmth - looking up into your blissed ones with nothing adoration. 
He places a hand over your middle - fingers spread wide as he nudges you backwards, silently and carefully laying you down. Your bare back against the covers with him kneeling on the floor between your spread thighs. 
Barely leaning over you, he reaches up to kiss a trail over your abdomen, lips skimming along your jittering stomach as his fingers slip into the waistband of your underwear and pyjama bottoms. He pulls them down - light tugs as he drags them off your hips and down your thighs, grazing kisses over your now-exposed skin as he undresses your lower half. 
Pulling the fabric off your ankles, he sets it aside, replacing the material that just covered you with kisses - lips grazing up the length of your legs, chaste pecks over your skin like he was worshipping you. The kisses trail higher and higher, reaching up to the crease between your thigh and cunt where he continues the worship, tongue faintly swiping over the skin.
Your hands worm into the roots of his dark hair, fingers locking on the shorts as you hold him to where you want him, guiding him to the needy little spot between your thighs. Chest rising and falling, inner thighs twitching as the anticipation builds in your stomach.
He situates himself in front of your pussy, lips mere inches away as he softly breathes over it - teasing you, his eyes locked on your trembling stomach above. He places a peck on the bottom of your slit. And another. Lining a stripe of kisses up your cunt til he reaches your clit where he skates past the nub, tongue skimming over it.
Hands working over your thighs and to your hips, he adjusts you, placing your legs over his shoulders - letting them drape freely over his blades as he delves in deeper between your thighs, caressing your plushy folds with his lips and tongue. 
You murmur the first half of his name only to be cut off by a whine, the desperate noise catching in your throat when he nips at your clit, his lips wrapping around the mound - tongue skillfully flickering across. 
The noises he muffles are lewd and obscene - gruff, soft groans as he adulates your pussy, pushing his mouth in closer. Your fingers tug tighter on his roots at the consuming feeling, back lifting from the bed in an arch, mindlessly grinding your cunt into his face. 
Within minutes, you become a twitching, moaning pile of mush, coating his chin with your slick as you cum - thighs clamping around Bucky's head between.
He places a final kiss on your pubic bone before pulling away, standing up with a chubbed-up cock in his pants, the area tenting after tasting you. You hold his gaze, looking up at him with blissed eyes and a stir in your stomach - the sight of him making your cunt twitch. 
He wipes the wet from his chin on the back of his hand, briskly drying his stubble before undressing his lower half - tugging down on his combat pants and boxers, letting the material pool around his ankles as his cock springs free. Full length hard and ready, tip leaking precum. 
You scooch up your bed, resting flat with your head on the pillow, eagerly awaiting him. Your thighs instinctively spread as he crawls up the bed and between your legs, slotting his lower half between you - anchoring his weight on his hands either side of your head.
He leans in to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue, the residual creamy slick transferring onto your own. Cock absentmindedly rubbing up against your pussy, the faint friction making you whimper into his mouth.
Your hands hook into the hem of his t-shirt, fingers gripping the bottom of the fabric as you guide it up his back, pulling it over his head as you break the kiss - his chest now bare and up against yours. 
Balancing on his left metal hand, he dips the other between you, reaching for his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base. He gives himself a few short strokes, guiding his head towards you - pushing his tip through the slick of your folds, coating his cock in your wetness before sinking into you.
You take him at your own pace, walls fluttering and loosening around his shaft as he eases more of himself into you - your pussy swallowing little bits of him at a time. Your hand paws at his wrist placed on your hip, fingers enveloping around the thickness, silently pleading and begging him to get closer.
He looks down at the lewd sight of you spread out in front of him: your brows knitted, eyes soft, lips bitten - natural, unadulterated beauty all desperate and malleable for him. He notices the bliss cloud in your eyes and gives your glistening, stuffed pussy a final once over before hovering back over you, chest lingering above yours. 
His lips skim over your jaw, trailing even more kisses down the side of your throat, giving you easing, reassuring pecks as he slips more of his cock into you - distracting you from the dull ache. 
"You are so beautiful," he whispers into your skin, sealing the compliment with a kiss. "You really are," he adds, pressing kisses into your shoulder. "I don't know how you don't see it."
You bend at the knee, holding it at his side - the new angle opening your hips wider, allowing that last bit of his cock to slide in, head hitting at the hilt. You keep him snug to you, arms lazily wrapped around his neck, your other leg entangling with his as your lips shadow each other. 
The moonlit room fills with soft, wet clicking - the sound of your pussy and sticky skin hitting cuts through the bliss-filled noises that slip past both of your lips, lewd noises surrounding you in the dark.
Bucky pulls his forehead from the crook of your neck to look down at you, eyes hinting at something - like his mind was temporarily elsewhere.
"Earlier," he starts, his voice hoarse as his hips wind into you, cock rubbing your walls so nicely. "When you said that thing," he adds, following your eyes when they bashfully divert away. "You tell me when you feel like that... I'd be happy to remind you just how pretty you are."
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a/n. I had an idea for myself, what?? and my first full fic in almost a year??
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allfearstofallto · 1 month
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Day of the Wedding
Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader
Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche
Forced Marriage AU
TW: Yandere Themes, Forced(?) Alcohol Consumption
AN: I checked today and I have 900 followers??? That's actually insane!!! This is what I've got to offer I guess!!
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Diluc
Who wouldn't cry tears of joy when marrying the most desired bachelor of Mondstadt? That's what people thought when they saw you dressed from head to toe in pure white, the only thing throwing your princess attire off being your smeared makeup. Your eyes, so red and puffy, had mascara running down your cheeks. Black tears staining your face.
Despite the way you looked, you still forced a smile. It was a small wedding, containing only those close to the both of you, but your family couldn't help, but wonder why you chose to stay close under your newly wed husband, almost seeming afraid to talk to them.
When the vows were spoken, you could barely get the words out. Your voice shaking through sobs as your tears fell upon the page of written notes, eventually making the ink leak and becoming ineligible. You still spoke your I Do’s, followed by him lifting your veil and kissing you right upon your lips. His hand snaked around your waist and the other held your head in place. But you, you stood there stiffly, like kissing him had made you turn into stone.
Diluc pulled away with a smile, his mouth stained with a slight tint of your lipstick. He walked you back down the aisle, with the crowd throwing rice and cheering. On the happiest day of your life where you were supposed to be looking forward ahead of you, you just kept looking back, hoping that your family could see the distress in your eyes, though they never did.
Childe
So many of Childe's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles came to the wedding, but not a single one of your family members joined you.
“She's not close to her family,” he'd say, holding on to your waist with a threatening hand. That was a lie. You loved your family. You saw them often, at least, you did before the day you abruptly decided to move to Snezhnaya without a word to them. You hadn't seen them since and they didn't know where to send letters, you were essentially a ghost of their past. Your memory haunted them daily as they missed you dearly and you missed them too.
The wedding lasted days and days. A surprise to even you, but apparently that's tradition. Games and singing. There was dancing happening for what felt like hours. And drinking. So so so much drinking. With a feast that spanned almost an entire table, there was an abundance of alcohol to match.
You could hardly keep up with the festivities. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people being wed to a man you thought you knew. Childe wouldn't let you show your discomfort on your face, meeting your lips with a glass of whatever he was drinking, you'd gulp down even more and fall into that drunken dizziness. When the wedding ended, you don't exactly remember. It all became a blur near the end. But you remember waking up to Childe laying you down in bed, placing a kiss on your forehead and whispering words of praise to you that would've been comforting, had it not been for who he was.
Scaramouche
He always adored the way you looked in kimono. Today was no different. The pure white silk draped over your body was by far the nicest one he'd gifted you. Dolled up in traditional make-up, you felt so stiff with your now decadent appearance.
You'd feel less scared if he wasn't still wearing that same glare. That same look of anger and disappointment. Even though it was just the two of you in the room, you him and the officiant who would wed the two of you, he still glared at the man like one mistake would kill him. And it probably would.
Your hand shook as you picked up what looked to be the tea pot, something he made you practice time and time again to prepare just for today. Getting it wrong today would mean facing his wrath later, yet you still shook while pouring it into the small bowl. You watched with a pounding heart as you managed to spill some, dripping onto the floor and sinking between the wood.
Meeting his gaze and preparing for a scolding, you instead saw him lightly chuckle. Seldom did he smile and even more rare than that, did he actually laugh. The sight was even scarier than his usual glares, somehow his joy made him seem even more menacing.
“I expected this much from you,” he whispered into the silence. His nimble fingers gripped the rim of the bowl and he brought it to your lips, making you take a sip of the warm alcohol. It was bitter and disgusting, just as you'd remembered. When you swallowed your sip, he took one right after you, finishing off what was left in the dish, then sitting it to the side again.
Your names were signed onto a piece of parchment, a wedding document written in traditional Inazuma script. You couldn't read a word of it, but there was no worse contract than the one that said you'd be his lawfully wedded wife.
Scaramouche held your hand as the two of you walked out of the shrine, his fingers cold and his grip tight. It was such a beautiful day out. That was all you could think about as you were walked back to his carriage which would take you to his home. Your last day as a truly free woman, you were glad it was beautiful.
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suguann · 2 months
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Possessive!Geto who pretends he doesn't care when he overhears that a new high-paying customer comes to the club every Friday to watch you specifically perform on stage, knowing he can’t really do anything about it unless a patron breaks the rules printed on a neon sign above the bar—No touching the dancers unless you're tipping—even if he’s the one in charge.
He’ll smile and nod, shaking hands with big spenders with sleazy smiles in the VIP lounge while his eyes find you from the other side of the room as you climb into another man’s lap.
He can’t stop his jaw from clenching when that same customer tips a month’s worth of rent every week or asks about private shows even though you don't do them. How he notices you smiling prettily for this customer, eyelashes fluttering with stars in your eyes to match the glitter on your cheeks before you walk off stage toward the dressing rooms. 
Sometimes you play the part of making a lonely man feel wanted too well. 
Possessive!Geto whose hand tightens around his glass tumbler, watching the man who’s been coming to see you (now twice a week) slip a thick white card into the top of your stockings. The fact that he touched your thigh with his dirty hands irks Geto the most.
In times like this, he wishes he had never come up with the rule about keeping your relationship a secret—so nobody thinks I’m picking favorites—because regret is a thick pill to swallow.
When you walk up to his office later, Geto wastes no time by dragging you down onto his lap, trailing his nose down the slope of your neck where your soft-smelling perfume is strongest and sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat for everyone to see. 
You’re still wearing those cross-stitch stockings—the feel of them under his hands making him halfway hard—and he yanks the bodice of your dress down just underneath the swell of your breasts to get rid of the thought of another man touching you.
“B-but, Suguru, we’re at work—”
“Let me enjoy these pretty tits, huh?” he growls before sucking a nipple into his greedy mouth.
You whine his name, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.
The blinds to his floor-to-ceiling windows are open, but it's tinted glass so nobody can tell what happens behind locked doors. Except, when he glances toward the busy club below, he wishes everyone in the building could witness what it looks like for you to fall apart under his hands—a personal show you put on just for him.
Only him. His fingers hook inside you to feel you tight and hot around him as a reminder.
Possessive!Geto who has enough one day after that customer asks for another private session—this time, he goes to Geto directly.
It’s a busy night, and every dancer works the floor. Well, almost. 
You’re kneeling between his spread legs, spit dribbling down your chin, whimpering while trying to open your throat for him.
He brushes your hair away from your face, watching your mouth messily slurp around his cock under his desk—his jaw is slack, and his other hand clenches on the armrest of his chair. “So good—fuck, baby—so fucking pretty,” he mutters, his top teeth catching his bottom lip.
His head tilts back when you eagerly fill your mouth with him again and again until he feels you choke, making his thighs flex under your hands. Geto’s thumb smooths an arc across your cheek.
“There you go,” he huffs. “I love that little mouth—”
There’s a knock on his door, and he feels you panic, moving to pull off his cock. But the hand in your hair tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Your nails bite into his skin, tears prickling your lashline as small distressed mewls escape your lips.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he hisses. “Not unless I say so.”
Another knock echoes in his office.
“Come in.”
The customer with the too-shiny tie and a penchant for slipping thousands into your g-string opens the door with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye, sauntering into the room like he owns the place. “How about that deal—”
Whatever he’s about to ask is lost on Geto because his ears are ringing when he feels you swallow around him, and his balls draw up tight against his body, and—
Possessive!Geto who grunts when you moan around his cock as he cums down your throat, his lips twitching at the look of shock on the customer’s face.
“I’ve heard your deal,” he says eventually, glancing down at your glazed eyes and wiping away what little mess escaped your mouth with his thumb. “But she’s not yours to take.”
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marvelslittlewhore · 2 months
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No Air To Breathe
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PAIRING | jj maybank x routledge!asthmatic!fem!reader
SUMMARY | Your asthma is acting up and not just a little bit...
WARNINGS | asthma attack, salbutamol overdose, vomiting, jj being a panicking golden retriever bf, angst with happy ending, my bad description of medical stuff (bare with me I tried my best 😭), not proofread cause I'm lazy 😶‍🌫️
A/N | totally did not write this because it happened to me a few days ago haha...yeah I'm better now tho no worries👌🏻
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The moment you woke up and made your way to the bathroom you knew your day wasn't going to be easy as you already felt out of breathe. You didn't thought much of it, grabbing your inhaler from the cabinet above the sink and taking a puff so you could go on with your day.
Some time later you started to feel how hard it was to do simple tasks, even just grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge without using your inhaler seemed impossible right now.
Laying in bed and listening to music you could still hear the others coming into the Chateau after their surf session. You got up and decided to join them in the living room, sitting down on the couch and taking another puff of your inhaler while JJ plopped beside you, instantly worried when he saw it in your hand.
"You alright, sugar?" He asked placing his hand on on your thigh, squeezing a little.
You nodded with a smile. "I'm fine, just feeling a little wheezy today."
JJ is not really convinced of your reassurance but nodded anyways, draping your legs over his lap and turning his attention back to the others who were bickering on who got the best wave.
Later in the evening you seemed to get even worse, your breathing now a lot shorter and your inhaler not really helping anymore. Slowly you started to worry and not only you did, JJ had been keeping an eye on you and to see how now any movement had you overwhelmed had him fidgeting a lot.
"Babe." He tried getting your attention and you lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him with hooded eyes and your skin paler than usual. "Oh shit, you don't look good at all. I mean, you're still smoking hot but- you know what I mean!"
You chuckled and that was your mistake. You started to have a coughing fit, your breathing even worse now after it subsided.
You let your head fall back against JJ's shoulder, whining in distress and frustration, not understanding what's happening right now. JJ called out for John B, assuming your brother must know what to do, he always does.
A second later John B walked in with a can of beer in his hand. "What's up?"
"I don't know man. She- She can't really move without using this." JJ explained holding your inhaler up.
John B, already in big brother mode, walked over to you both holding your face with both hands, cursing under breath.
"Fuck- how many puffs did you take today kid?" He asked and you shrugged tiredly, not enjoying all those movements at all and your stomach doesn't like it either.
"Bucket..." You mumbled and John B rushed to get you one, just in time when your body wrenched forward to vomit.
"What's happening with her?" JJ asked, trying to keep his cool and holding your hair out of your face while you emptied your stomach.
"She overused her inhaler and now her circulation is fucked up." John B explained, calm as ever and putting the bucket down when you stopped puking. He grabbed his phone next and called for an ambulance, knowing things would get worse if he didn't act fast enough.
John B crouched in front of you, trying to get your attention again which was hard for you as everything seemed to exhaust you, even talking.
"You'll be okay. I called an ambulance, they'll be here soon, yeah?"
You just nodded, closing your eyes to get any type of rest but the boys have to keep you awake.
"Hey, stay with me baby. Just like that. Show me those pretty eyes." JJ smiled at you even when he's practically panicking on the inside and wishing he could just take away your suffering.
Meanwhile Pope, Kie, and Sarah caught up to what happened. All now scattered around the room and anxiously waiting for the ambulance to arrive.
Sure enough the paramedics walked inside the Chateau with Pope explaining what happened and in what state you're in.
JJ was holding you the whole time, comforting you and whispering affirmations in your ear. Just as you expected they have to take you to the hospital to give you proper medication and care there.
As soon as you got an IV drip and a oxygen mask JJ carefully got up with you in his arms, carrying you to the ambulance and gently placed you on the stretcher. He sat down beside you, holding your hand to let you know he's there while the paramedics moved around you.
In the hospital the pogues had to sit in the waiting room, angry that they could only wait for any doctor to tell them if you're fine or not. Even JJ couldn't go with you, only for the ride to the hospital and he almost punched the security guy that held him back from going to see how his girl is doing right now but John B eventually got him to sit down, talking some sense into him.
"Relax, dude. You're not helping her when you get arrested now. I know how this works. They keep her here for a few hours, give her medicine and oxygen, and when her oxygen saturation is better we can take her back home."
JJ nodded, taking his hat off and pulling at some strains of his hair. It kills him not being able to be with you in such a scary moment.
An hour later the doctor came into the waiting room and the pogues instantly sprung up, attacking the poor woman with all kinds of questions.
"Alright, let's calm down first." She told them, looking back at the clipboard in her hand. "So, she's going to be okay. She needs to take these antibiotics for the next ten days. Watch that she's drinking and eating enough because she'll still feel a little weak the next two or three days, so keep an eye on her."
The doctor handed John B the package of antibiotics and told them that they could go and see you now as you're stable again.
You smiled when you saw them rushing inside and to your bed, all of them just so relieved to have your normal self back.
JJ leaned down to give a quick peck to your lips, resting his forehead against yours for a moment.
"You scared the hell outta me..." He said and you reached up caress his cheek with your hand.
"I'm sorry." You pulled back from him. "I just- I thought it wouldn't end like that. I already saw the signs the second I woke up but..." You tried to explain your own stupidity but JJ cut you off.
"It's okay, you don't have to explain anything. You're fine now, that's what matters." He assured you.
"Can we go home now?" You asked and turned your head to your brother.
John B patted your head and nodded. "Sure kid, lemme just get a nurse real quick."
Finally back at the Chateau everyone decided a movie night would be the best to cheer you up and as always they were right, even when you're still not feeling all well you had the sleep that night, knowing your family was with you.
JJ held you the whole night, always on alert when you move just a single muscle, checking if you're alright and getting you everything you asked him for.
You really were blessed with this boy.
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Taglist
For everything:
@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216
For JJ Maybank:
@tracymbcm @spideysimpossiblegirl
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spicyspiders · 2 months
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burst and flooding
König x male reader smut
1.3k words
Was thinking about König a lot last week so I wrote this. It was going to be a sex pollen fic, but instead I wrote something where König gets so overwhelmed because he likes the reader so much.
You fell face down into your bed. You were absolutely exhausted, but luckily, you had a mission-free weekend ahead of you. You could barely muster up the energy to dry yourself off and pull on clothes after getting out of the shower, but you were glad you did when you heard the sound of a knock at your door.
You pulled yourself up onto your feet with a sigh and walked to the door slowly. “König?” You asked after opening the door to the distressed looking man.
It wasn’t unusual that he didn’t have his sniper hood on, but what wasn’t normal was for the blue in his eyes to be swallowed by black, and his cheeks to be flushed red with blood. He stood in your doorway, one hand over the white soft cotton shirt he wore, and the other hand between his legs. His chest rose and fell quickly as he sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm himself down from whatever was plaguing him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked as you pulled König into your room. Once you shut the door and turned around to face him, you were met with his broad back. “König?” You asked softly, placing a hand on his back.
“I need your help,” he gasped out.
The energy you felt had drained earlier rushed through your veins as you sprung into action. It wasn’t the first time you had helped him through a panic attack, already knowing what to do. You tried to guide the man onto your bed and get him comfortable, but he didn’t budge from his spot in the middle of your room.
He stood hunched over himself, like he was trying to make himself look small. It didn’t look right for a man of his stature, like he was trying to hide himself, or like he was trying to hide something.
“I have never felt this way before,” König says softly, you try to step to face him and meet his eyes, but they stay on the floor. “I think about you and I feel crazy,” he steps closer to you, “my body feels hot and my heart feels like it’s going to burst from my chest.”
When König straightens his body out, standing tall over you as he comes even closer, you can look him fully over. Your eyes zero in on the noticeable bulge in the sweatpants he wears, and when you pull your eyes away to finally meet his, you’re met with his pleading eyes.
“Help me, please?” He asks quietly.
“Let’s get more comfortable,” you respond just as softly.
He goes easily to the bed, right to the spot where you just were. You thought when you got out of the shower that you were going to return to your room and go to sleep, now less than an hour later, you had a welcome guest in the spot you just were.
“Can I take these off?” You question as you stand at the corner of the bed, between König’s legs.
König’s muscular body comes on full display after he pulls his clothes off. You feel yourself begin to grow hard in your pants when you trace your fingers along the scars on his upper body. His lower half is littered with fewer marks, but your eyes don’t linger on those, but instead look at the hard cock König is trying to hide behind his hands.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur as you pull your eyes away and continue to run your fingers across his skin.
“You are,” König responds.
His words bring a smile to your face, “I haven’t even taken my clothes off. You haven’t even seen me,” you say with a laugh.
König’s hands settle firmly around your hips before he speaks, “I have seen you. You are beautiful in the field, how you handle yourself, and how your fingers move on your gun. You are beautiful covered in b-”
You cut him off by pressing your lips to his and end the kiss with a laugh, “I get it,” you say, watching the way König’s face goes red from the words he just said to you. “Thank you, König. I never knew you were so observant,” you say before pressing your lips to his again.
Once pulled away from the kiss, you make your way onto the bed to join König. Your hands go slowly down his body, taking notice of the way he shivers when your fingers brush his nipples. König’s hips twitch forward when your fingers run through the dark trail of hair that leads down to his cock.
König’s mouth falls open with a gasp when your fingers wrap around his thick cock. His hands sit at his sides, his fingers already clenched around the blanket under his fingers. His body visibly goes tense after a few moments of slowly stroking his cock, making you pause in worry.
“You okay?” You pull your hand from his cock, when he looks up from your hand with his large, dark eyes, “should I stop?” You ask, pulling your hand away, your fingers wet with his precum.
“No! No! Please,” König whines, his hips moving forward again like he’s trying to guide his cock back to your hand.
“I am trying not to-” König’s voice breaks into a breathy moan, “I do not want this to end,” he whines after gasping for a breath.
“We’ll do this again,” you respond, “I can’t have you get like this again, can I?” You ask against his mouth before your mouth is on his again. During your lip-lock with your eyes closed, you miss seeing König cum, but you sure can hear and feel it as he moans into your mouth and you feel the warm spurts of his cum on your fingers as it shoots over your fingers.
You open your eyes when you pull away from the kiss. The puffs of König warm breath hits your face as he comes down from his orgasm. You stroke his softening cock through the aftershock, watching as his cock goes flaccid in your fingers.
You take your hand away when König lets out a whimper of overstimulation, but from the way his hips move forward, you can’t tell if he actually wants more.
You bring your hand to your mouth to taste what landed on your fingers. It’s salty and bitter on your tongue, but the taste only leaves you wanting more. You lean down to swipe up with your tongue the rest of it that landed on his abs, but this time, you’re unable to distinguish if the salty taste is from his spend or his sweat.
König’s hand goes to the back of your neck to pull you up into a kiss, and he groans at the taste on your tongue when they tangle. His other hand goes between your legs to grip at your hard cock, but you knock his fingers away.
“Wha-” König begins to question, but you cut him off with another kiss.
“Go shower,” you say against his mouth, “let’s just go to sleep.” König looks as if he wants to protest, but you kiss him one last time before he can, “we have all weekend,” you whisper against his mouth.
König pulls away with a smile and a nod before he gets off the bed and begins pulling his clothes back onto his sweaty body. Once he’s adjusted his clothes and smoothed out the wrinkles, he presses his mouth to yours in a soft kiss.
It feels like forever for your erection to go down, and you nearly think it’s going to come right back when König comes back to your room. You get under your covers, trying not to grind your hips into the mattress, but luckily, König throws a heavy arm around your body, keeping you still.
You fall quickly into a deep sleep, but not before you feel König’s lips on your skin, giving you one last kiss for the night.
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morganbritton132 · 9 months
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I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???
I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)
I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.
Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”
Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”
Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.
The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.
Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”  
“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”
Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.
Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.
So, he knows.
He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.
There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.
Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.
He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!
It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.
 He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.
Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”
“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”
Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”
“That happened one time!”
Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”
“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”
“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.
“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.
“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”
“Technically, I married him.”
“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”
“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
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mcu-coworkers · 10 months
Text
You?
Summary: What you thought was your love story ended up being one cruel summer.
Word Count: 1k+
warnings: None really other than angry Miguel :I
A/n: amidst writing a part 3 for another story I got inspired by doctor strange and gave it a bit of a twist. Hope you guys like it!xx
Parts: One^ Two three Four
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You had never seen Miguel so angry before.
Sure he was always short with everyone and never smiled other than to laugh at someone.
But when he did laugh, even if it was at someone, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat.
There were days when he’d call you into his office and ask you to update him on the spiders and the sectors they were handling and sometimes, if he was in a good enough mood, he’d ask about you.
Despite the mood swings, and his constant frown you wanted nothing more than to stand by his side and be there for all of it.
Peter B. though you were crazy for having feelings towards the coldest spider in the spider society but all things considered, he was probably right.
Only a crazy person would fall head over heels for someone who gave no sign of reciprocating feelings.
You had hope you’d get through one day.
That day definitely was not today.
You’d been caught up on a mission for the past couple of hours so you never responded to any of the comms. When you arrived back at HQ you were horrified by the mess.
You tried to ring Miguel but no luck, then you tried Jess, Ben, Gwen, shit, even Hobbie and still nothing.
Finally you were about to try Peter B. when he popped up behind you.
“You’re not gonna reach them, and honestly,  I   don’t think you want to.” he said as he held a very active May Day in his arms.
“What happened here?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper.
“ I  ‘d tell you but maybe it's better if you just watch.” he said, pulling up all the camera footage.
And holy shit.
Suddenly you felt a lot worse about ignoring those comms from Miguel.
“Shit.” you cursed under your breath.
“Yeah, listen  I   should get going. Miguel will be back soon and  I  ‘m the last person he’ll want to see.” he said, opening a portal.
“Bye Pete, take care of yourself okay?” You said with a soft smile as he slowly disappeared into the portal.
Looking back at the paused footage you didn't know what to think.
You understood Miles, but you also understood Miguel.
But still, seeing the way he handled this and how out of hand he got made chills run down your spine.
You didn’t even want to think what would’ve happened had he gotten through the shield of the go home machine.
Lost in thought you never heard Miguel enter the room.
“Where the hell have you been?” you heard him yell as he walked up to you.
You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of his tone.
“On a mission you know that Miguel” you said trying to not anger him further.
“ I   called you to come back, so where the fuck were you.” he wasnt letting up.
“Miguel  I  got the guy  I  -” you tried but he cut you off.
“When  I   say come back that means come back am  I   fucking clear?” he said, looking down at you.
You’d never felt so intimidated by him before, not even on the first day after being recruited.
“Yes sir.” was all you could manage to say.
Finally he stepped back and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.
“Lyla pull up the records of the go home machine and tell me where it sent him.” He said turning his back to you.
You could hear the distress in his voice so you thought of a way to help.
Walking up to him with caution you put a hand on his shoulder, “Miguel, Maybe you need to take a step  back let someone else handle it.” you suggested.
“Yeah? Who?You? Thats a fucking joke. You could barely handle a stupid villain, you’ll never catch this kid.” he snarled, shrugging your arm off.
Taken back by his statement you felt a heavy weight on your chest.
“Miguel-” you tried but again you were cut off.
“What are you gonna say some inspirational shit? Tell me you're here to help?hm?” he asked, turning back to you.
“Yes, Miguel, I am here for you, always. But this, this is mania. Some things can't be fixed by yourself. ” You said the weight on your chest felt heavier.
When he stayed quiet you took it as a sign to keep going.
“Maybe this is a sign to consider stopping, look at how much of a toll this is taking on you.” you urged the man was grasping for straws at this point if they didn't find Miles he’d be lost.
“This is my life's work, there is no me without the multiverse.” he exclaimed, turning away from you.
“There are so many things that give your life meaning, that could give your life meaning.” you suggested, realizing what that last part sounded like you felt your face heat up.
Shit.
He stopped his pacing and turned to you, “Like what? You?”
Suddenly you felt your world come crashing down. You had nothing left to lose.
“Yeah. Me.” you said barely above a whisper.
“You care so much don’t you? You think  I   want your pity? That  I  need you?”he said aggressively.
“ I   have never pitied you.”you snapped back.
“Good, because  I   don't need it. And  I   don't need you.” and with that he turned back around leaning on his desk.
You had nothing left for him. Or the spider society.
“Goodbye, Miguel.” was all you said before you walked out of the room and opened the portal to go home, for good.
“That was a bit rough for someone you like, don't you think?” Lyla asked, watching Miguel as he looked over to the door you walked out of.
He decided to focus on one thing at a time, Miles now you later.
He knew you’d come back and when you did, he’d fix it.
If there was something he could fix in this fucked up world it was the mistakes he made with you.
“The files Lyla.” he said changing the subject.
Sighing, Lyla gave him what he wanted and left.
She didn't have the heart to tell him that you left your watch and your suit at HQ.
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Text
Another thing I just adore about Ed and Stede's dynamic is Ed certainly does not NEED anyone to protect him. He's a very competent person who is extremely successful and has a reputation built on being brilliant and a tactical genius. It would be so, so easy for Stede's desire to help and protect Ed to come across as condescending at best and racist at worst.
But it doesn't, because Stede isn't perfomative about it. He doesn't walk around acting like Ed is helpless or stupid. He just responds, earnestly and genuinely, when he sees Ed is in distress.
Take the party in s1e5 for example. Ed is visibly very upset, and even though Stede stops him from going back in there, we know that Ed could probably easily find a way to terrify the people who were so cruel to him. He's only got one single-shot gun, sure, but we know Ed's smart enough he could figure this out. But Stede tells Ed that he'll deal with it, and he embarasses them, gets them to light their ship on fire, and Ed looks at him like he just hung the fucking stars in the sky.
Has anyone ever stood up for Ed like this before? Ever? Is it any wonder we first see Ed thinking about kissing Stede right after this?
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And then Ned Low is the other obvious example. Other people have rightly pointed out that the moment Ned died was when he was playing with Ed's hair, mocking him, and we see Stede's furious face. Ned just signed his own death certificate, he just didn't know it yet, because Stede was never going to let him leave his ship alive after that. They go out of their way this episode to show us how Ned is insulting, mocking, and racist towards Ed to make sure we know exactly why Stede was never going to let him live.
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And, yes, Ed did tell Stede that he shouldn't kill Ned, trying to protect Stede. But Ed isn't surprised when Stede does it - at worst, he feels bad that Stede thought the "poison" of killing someone was worth it because of Ed. I think Ed knew, at least on some level, especially after what happened to those rich racist dickheads - he can count on Stede making people who are awful to him pay for it.
I love that Stede will take people insulting him without blinking an eye all day, but the second they're mean to Ed it's fucking on sight. No one insults his princess and gets away with it. And I'm sure Ed feels bad that Stede does these things for him, but I hope he's starting to realize that he deserves to be cared for the way Stede looks out for him. These two want to protect each other so bad.
In conclusion, I guess: if you're staying at their inn and you say a single mean thing to Ed, you better start fuckin' running
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milaisreading · 8 days
Text
Wedding day
Pairing: Itoshi Sae x Isagi's sister!Reader
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open
⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️
"Can you please calm down, sis? Everything will be fine." Yoichi said as he walked around the room after his sister. The older Isagi was panicking a little as she thought more and more about the whole wedding that was supposed to happen in an hour.
"You think?! Yoichi, what if I am not good enough? Sae is a literal football star and I am just-"
"The best sister and future wife. Exactly!" Yoichi quickly chimed in, annoyed that she had let the recent gossip on the internet get to her. While he did have sympathy for her, marrying a high profiled person lime Sae Itoshi wasn't nothing, he was also mad that she was doubting her own worth.
"Yoichi... You of all people know how the news are. They will nitpick on the most smallest things about me." (Y/n) sighed as she went over to sit on a chair in the room, Yoichi following close behind.
"What if they are right about me not being the one for Sae?"
"That's ridiculous! He loves you!" Yoichi argued again, but he knew it was useless. He wasn't Sae. The one whose opinion mattered the most right now.
"I don't know... What if I am just hindering him? There are so many better options than I am. Did you see all those models from Madrid who talk about him? What if I am not the one?"
(Y/n) held back a few sobs as Yoichi went to comfort her. He would be lying if he said he didn't expect the news to make such a huge deal out of the wedding. He did. But, seeing the state his sister was in just broke Yoichi. She didn't deserve all this stress now. Nor did Sae deserve to be doubted.
And, while Yoichi was comforting (Y/n), he didn't notice Rin peek into the room and catching some of the conversation the were having, and catching the distressed state (Y/n) was in.
'Shit!' The younger Itoshi thought as he slowly closed the door. He didn't expect to walk into all of that. While Sae was on cloud nine in his room, (Y/n) was over here distressed over some gossip.
'Wait? What gossip? Big brother never mentioned anything about that.' Rin wondered as he took his phone out to search for anything that remotely could mention either Sae or the wedding.
Meanwhile...
Sae was happily drinking the water Rin brought him earlier. The older Itoshi never expected to be excited over anything like a wedding. Well, he never saw himself marry anyone until he met (Y/n). The love of his life.
'Ahhh~ I am all excited for our future. I can't wait for us to finally tie the knot. Maybe even a few kids down the line, but that can wait for another few years. For now, I just want to enjoy my time alone with her.' Sae smiled softly and blushed, not hearing the footsteps approaching his room.
'My sweet (Y/n). She is so clumsy and cute. So adorable and always kind to me and others. I am so lucky to have found-'
"Big brother!"
Sae snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at the door as Rin walked in, looking oddly nervous.
"What's up with you? You are more nervous than I am." Sae joked but Rin ignored him as he kept on glancing between his phone and the older.
"Well..."
"Anyway, how is (Y/n) doing? How does she look? Bet as stunning as ever. She is so adorable."
Sae went on a ramble and Rin knew he had to cut it out now before he went into an endless loop with it.
"I... There is something you need to see, and I think you won't like it."
Sae stopped and raised an eyebrow at Rin.
"What do you mean?"
"It's about (Y/n). You didn't read any of the news some of the Spanish and Japanese media reported?"
"No. Why would I? They mostly say dumb stuff, anyway."
"It might be dumb, but the stuff nearly has (Y/n) crying right now."
Sae froze up for a moment and quickly took the phone away from Rin.
The younger Itoshi was used to seeing a lot of emotions on Sae, but anger, genuine anger was not one of them. The more Sae read through the articles Rin had found, the redder his face became and the more his eyebrows furrowed.
'I would pray for the reporters, but they deserve whatever happens next.' Rin thought as an eerie silence took over.
----
Once Yoichi had left the room to let his sister cool down, (Y/n) had finally realized how ridiculous it was that she was crying about these things. After all, if Sae really didn't want her, he wouldn't have asked to marry her. Right?
'I need to have more faith in him, and also be less sensitive.' She thought as she put down her phone, not noticing Sae walk inside.
"Why didn't you tell me about those articles?"
(Y/n) yelped , and turned around to see Sae walk into the room and towards her.
"Sae! You shouldn't see me before-"
"I don't care. Rin said you were distressed over what those journalists were saying. Why didn't you tell me about it?"
For the first time since they started their relationship, (Y/n) was left speechless by the anger Sae was radiating. Sure, she was used to him being angry over what Shidou would say at times, or even when he would lose a game. But, this was a different type of anger. It was more genuine than the previous ones.
"Why?" Sae's voice got softer as he grapped her hands into his, causing (Y/n) to turn red a little.
"I thought it was stupid to bother you with that. It's just me being sensitive-"
"It's not. The stuff those idiots said about you is disgusting, and I will put an end to it on my next interview." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Sae pulled her in closer.
"I thought you don't have one yet."
"I asked my manager the schedule me one after our honeymoon. As much as I hate going on these, this is a different circumstance."
"Oh? Thank you." (Y/n) said as she grew flustered, causing Sae to finally smile again and chuckle a little.
"Don't thank me for stuff like this. And, have a little more faith in me. I have my eyes only set on you."
"You are right, I an sorry. I know you do."
She smiled as the door opened again, revealing Sae and (Y/n)'s moms.
"Sar Itoshi! What did I say about seeing (Y/n) before the wedding?! And why did you make Rin guard the entrance?" Sae flinched at his mom's yelling as Rin could be heard apologizing to him from behind her. (Y/n) laughed a little as her mom tried to calm the other woman down, finding the whole situation equally amusing.
"Well, today is an eventful day." (Y/n) laughed, and Sae smiled at her.
'At least you calmed down.'
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ciaraswritings · 1 year
Text
Unexpected.
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.
Word Count: 3.9K words
Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.
Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.
It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?
The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 
I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."
I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 
"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."
Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 
He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 
Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 
Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 
My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.
I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.
...
"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.
"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.
"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  
I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?
"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 
"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."
"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 
"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.
"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 
Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 
I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 
The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...
...
I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 
Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.
Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.
Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.
 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.
"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 
"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.
"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 
"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 
"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.
"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 
I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."
His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."
"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."
"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.
"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 
"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"
"Yes, it still hurts." 
"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"
"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 
"Maybe," he grinned.
"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."
"I called and told them you can't come in this week."
"This... this is why I married you."
It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.
Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 
"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 
"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 
"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.
Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 
"No."
"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"
"No."
"Are you on any medications?"
"No."
"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 
"No."
"History of heartburn?"
"No."
"When was your last menstrual cycle?"
"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 
"Do you know what year it is?"
I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.
The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been on birth control?" 
"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."
"During?"
"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."
"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."
"Okay." 
The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 
Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 
"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 
"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."
"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 
"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.
...
Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.
Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 
I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"
"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."
"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."
"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."
I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"
"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."
My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"
"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."
...
When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.
I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.
Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.
"Mom!"
My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 
"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 
"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 
"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 
"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.
Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 
"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.
"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 
"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 
I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."
...
I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 
No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.
Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 
"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."
"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 
"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 
"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.
Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 
"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 
Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"
Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."
Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"
His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."
"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 
"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 
Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 
"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."
Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 
My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."
I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"
"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 
Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 
"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.
"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 
He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 
My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."
He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."
"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"
I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."
His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 
"Expect the unexpected." 
2K notes · View notes
kurogxrix · 1 year
Text
Feels Like We’re Oceans Apart ( I. )
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Ao’nung x Sully!reader x Sully!family
IN WHICH Ao’nung was dared to date the eldest Sully daughter with vitiligo, while Jake and Neytiri face the hells of parenthood with a child that’s different from others.
WC: 6k
Warnings: bullying, violence, misunderstandings, Jake and Neytiri trying their bests ok.
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You were born different, just like your little siblings Lo’ak and Kiri. Though their only peculiar features were their five fingers and hairy eyebrows, given their human genes. You were a little more than that, a little more than what the na’vi could handle. They had no issues welcoming a five-fingered baby into their clan, mainly because they were ruled by one. 
It was a whole different story when Neytiri had announced the birth of an oddly coloured baby. Presented under the curious eyes of the clan, they watched as Jake held a tiny baby clutched to his chest. Your skin was initially dark blue just like theirs, but it was the strangely arranged white spots on your body that troubled them. 
It was nothing like what they had seen before, and so their minds could only jump to conclusions. They weren’t familiar yet foreign to the existence of albino na’vis, but accusing Neytiri of being unfaithful to her mate was far-fetched. Mo’at and Neytiri were scared to death once you were born, face to face with a spotted baby. They both feared that you were born with some incurable diseases, which was not too far from the truth.
At least on this planet. Jake took his time to reassure his crying mate, telling Neytiri that it was not necessarily normal, but you weren’t dying. A trip to the human’s lab and a long series of explanations from Norm had reassured the both of them even more. Vitiligo was what the scientists at the lab had diagnosed you with. For them, upon visual inspection it was obvious of what you were suffering from. 
“Stop moving, you little-“ the 13 year old Neteyam tried to restrain himself from cursing at you as you struggled in his arms. You were about a year younger than Neteyam, and his arms were still lanky and thinner than imaginable at the time, so holding you back was definitely harder than he could’ve imagined. 
You were relentless, aggressive almost as you fought the invading urge to bite your way out of his embrace. But no, you couldn’t. Not again, not when your father stood a few metres in front of you as he stared you down with those unruly eyes of his. He looked at you as though you were some sort of stranger for a second, his eyes filling with an unfamiliar look before snapping out of it definitively. It was like Jake finally realised that it was his own daughter that was standing before him, and his ears dropped at the thought. 
Blood dripped from his aching ear, the sounds of liquid plopping against the floor went unmissed by your heightened hearing. The two puncture holes in your father’s ears were the magnet of attention in the room, all eyes set on his injury like it was the most interesting sight of all year. All before he brought a hand up to rub the dribbling blood away, making his wound more visible before another bead of fresh blood covered the holes once more.  
Neytiri simply stood beside her husband, little care towards his injury for the moment as she stared at her distressed daughter. You looked so out of it, and none of them could understand why. She felt Jake move away from his current spot, their shoulders brushing as the contact brought her back from her thinking. Neytiri watched as Jake walked towards you, inevitably calming you down slightly as he kneeled before Neteyam and you.
Your older brother almost dropped to his knees and started praying to the Great-Mother for the rest, his arms loosening around you just a little. The room was quiet enough for you to properly hear the shuffling of your smaller siblings, cluttered together at this side of your tent. 
You felt your father’s hand come to lay upon your hair, caressing your hair lovingly in an attempt at soothing your nerves. Though you shied away from his touch at first, you allowed him to keep his hand there. 
“You wanna tell me why you did that.” Jake tried again, his left ear fluttering involuntarily as he referred to his new injury. Never would he have thought that today was the day where he’d get physically assaulted by his own daughter, but parenthood is all about surprises. 
His free hand came to rest on Neteyam’s shoulders, still being able to reach it from his kneeling position. Your father pushed your brother gently away from you, freeing you from his light embrace. Under his upclose stare, you couldn’t help but fiddle with your fingers like a little kid after getting caught sneaking candy. Your eyes bounced around the whole room, not once meeting his own. 
You remained silent as you knew that he didn’t specifically want to talk about his injury, but rather why you had done it. It was all a blur of emotions, a rush of feelings that your father had interrupted. To him you were acting like a brat, but it was so much more than that to you. More of a realistic realisation than a childish tantrum. 
Earlier this day, you had been spending time with a certain boy in the clan during an excursion. His name was Rangya, born a soft boy at heart in contrast to his stern father. He was nice and unlike the other kids in the clan, and you found peace in his presence. Eventually one thing led to the other, and the both of you strayed further away from your youth adventuring group.
It was dangerous out here for 2 kids of your age to be wandering around alone, and it didn’t take long for the group leaders to notice your disappearance. It was to your bad luck and stupidity that your father was a warrior, not even to mention the olo’eyktan, so it was his duty to go on the lookout for the both of you. His heart picked up the pace once he had heard your name coming out of the distressed woman’s name, who she was supposed to be keeping an eye on your class.
Surely Jake would give her a good talk later about it, but for now his own daughter and some kid were alone in the ruthless forest. Truth to be told, your adoration towards the boy ran a little further than a stupid childhood crush. No, instead you admired Rangya for his many traits at such a young age. He was undeniably the smartest and nicest person that you had ever met in the Omaticaya clan, and letting go of that could only be a fool’s mistake. 
Though as time strayed and the sun cleared behind the moon, you failed to realise the way that the world was getting darker around you. Instead your new goal was to examine every single plant that surrounded the both of you, your hand clasped tightly into the young boy’s as he reassured you that it was only for your protection. 
Now Jake was just there at the wrong time to catch an image of the wrong thing. It wasn’t like your hand in Rangya’s could be interpreted as anything else, or the fact that your faces were a little too close for comfort. It wasn’t that he was mad at you or the poor boy. Daughters had stupid, young boyfriends that father’s were opposed to, that’s how it usually went. At least that’s what he had thought that your relationship was labelled as. Matter of fact he had not even been visibly upset at you, but when he had demanded that you leave the boy and return back home, you knew that it was the end of it. 
That once you arrived back home, your father would tell you that you had to cut off whatever dumb relationship that there was between Rangya and you. And so you did whatever you could to make the moment last, struggled, kicked and argued with your dad to put you back down as he had picked you up after you had refused to walk back home with him. 
Jake’s eyebrows furrowed with frustration as you reacted in such a way. You’ve always been a calm kid, just like your big brother Neteyam. Though he had always thanked the Great-Mother that you were unlike his youngest son, because Eywa knew how much of a menacing duo you both would be. Now it confused him to no end as you kicked and cried in his arms, desperation thick in your voice as you begged for him to put you down. 
Though he denied you of that right, instead dragging your breaking down frame back to your family tent. Chaos striked before Jake could even reach Bob, his loyal ikran. The sudden throbbing of his ear had caught him totally off guard, a hand unravelling from where he was currently holding you to hold onto his aching ear. It had not one single moment come to his mind that the perpetrator could’ve been you, but a single look at you had sold you out. 
The crimson liquid that ran down the swell of your fangs was a dead giveaway, and the blood that covered Jake’s hand as he pulled it back down was like more evidence. If he hadn’t been angry at you before because of your bratty behaviour, then he sure as hell was now. He was livid, ears flung back painfully as it pressed onto his new injury. The top of his lips were pulled back in some sort of angry expression that he was trying to keep in. 
You would’ve been lying if you said that you weren’t scared shitless on the way back home. The way that your father’s nostrils were flaring, and the fact that he refused to look at you once until you reached your family tent. 
The recollection of earlier memories and the overwhelming feeling of your dad unknowingly pressuring you was too much. Too much for your little mind and frail heart to manage, for you had always been fragile at heart. Just like your mother, you had no fear in expressing your feelings physically rather than verbally. 
Jake can’t help the frustrated sigh that leaves his mouth as he watches your ears fill up with tears, unable to tell him anything that he wishes to hear. He dipped his head all the way down to his chest as his hand dropped from your hair, exhaling once too quickly to regain his senses. You missed it as quickly as it came, the comforting feeling of your father’s touch. Your fingers were intertwined together as you fiddled anxiously with them, afraid once more of what your father thought of you. 
“Fine, cmon lets just go and get checked up with grandma okay?” he asks rhetorically as he stands up, dusting his clean knees as a stress habit. He walked all the way towards the tent’s doors, barely having time to step a foot outside before his wife’s booming voice rang through his ears. 
“Ma Jake, please just calm down for a second! You’re moving too fast and we can’t just leave Tuk here with them, they’re just kids!” Neytiri gritted her teeth as she scolded her husband, his eyebrows furrowed further than he thought they could as he listened to her. She bent down before you to pick you up into her arms, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck as she hoisted you up alongside herself.
What she was saying was true, Jake was truly going overboard and leaving their 5 year old daughter with their other young children was not all the most responsible. Although they all knew that Neteyam was more than able to take care of his family, they wished not to burden him anymore. He was spent from the hectic day of events that he had spent, and it was not fair to bear him of more responsibilities that were not his to care for. 
But Jake was spent as well, he’s had a rough day and the churn of events that he had thought would be a nice and relaxing night with his family had truly roughed him up even more. 
“Maybe we wouldn’t have to if we didn’t have to take such intense care of that child of yours!” he points a finger towards your mother accusingly, asif you were only her child. Asif it hadn’t taken the both of them to conceive you, like you weren’t his daughter. Though as quick as the words are to leave his mouth, he regrets them. He regrets the way Neytiri falls silent under his traitorous words, or the way you try to hide further into her neck in fear of catching a glimpse at your father’s angry expression. 
He sighs again, and your ears cling further to your head at the sound of it. Jake’s expression falls at your body language, ear laid back, tail flat in between your legs and the undeniable sounds of your hushed sobbing. It breaks his heart that you cry because of him, that he had allowed such words to escape him. He’s scared you had mistaken his sigh as a sign of disappointment, and he’s much more scared of the death glare that his wife was giving him.
Though he didn't meet her eyes yet out of fear, he brought a hand back onto your head. As awkward as he always was while expressing himself, it doesn’t even feel like he’s able to mutter any sort of apology to you at the moment, and you feel your heart ache at the fact. 
“Watch your mouth.” Neytiri grits out at Jake, teeth firmly grinding together as she speaks. She spoke out every syllable with a pricised articulation so he could hear every single one of her words right. She was angry, undeniably at her husband but now was no time to dwell on things. The faster that they would get ready to leave, the faster that Mo’at could get you checked up and you could all return back home to a good night's sleep. 
-
The days after your little unexplained temper tantrum had been unexpectedly quiet for you. Unlike your ongoing personality around your parents, and your usual loudmouth that just loved to talk back to your dad, you were as silent as a rock. Your father had not even gotten to apologise yet, because Eywa knew how awkward he would be added to the fact that you refused to speak to any of them. 
It was obvious that you were avoiding them just as you were avoiding the other kids in the clan. You complained each time that your mom forced you to leave the tent, and that was about the only time where you’d be audible. Neytiri was overwhelmed with the undying fear that she played a part in sending you into some sort of mutism. She cried to your father at night, when they were supposed to be enjoying their night between lovers as they laid under the stars. 
She just couldn’t shake the worries away, no matter how much time passed. Until one day she brought up to Jake what she had overheard about you. She had dragged Jake outside of their tent, watching you from the corners of her eyes as you played with your handcrafted dolls. It worried Jake that Neytiri looked so on edge, asif she had heartbreaking news to deliver to him. And that was exactly that. 
It didn’t take long for your mother to catch onto what the other kids in the clan were saying about you. Her ears pinning tightly against her skull as she heard the nasty nickname coming out of a child’s mouth, one that was designated for you. Not to add to the fact that their parents already thought you were the spawn of the devil himself, confused as to why Eywa had blessed you with life. It broke her heart to pieces because she couldn’t do anything about it, no matter how much she reprimanded those kids and their parents, no matter how many times she scolded them. Kids will be kids, and you’d always be the ‘ugliest girl in the clan’. 
No amount of herbal paste would change your disorder and no amount of grovelling would erase what those kids had said about you. Though in Neytiri’s eyes, she’s always believed you were as beautiful as the sun. As every mother thinks of her children, she thought that you were blessed by Eywa with an utter beauty. But not everyone had eyes like your mother, they were cursed with the blindness of judgement. Neytiri would never fail to remind you of how good you looked in her eyes, that you were born special for a reason. That other kids picked on you because they were basic, and you were unique. 
She poured tears as she spoke the same words as those kids to your father, wondering how anyone could be so heartless to her daughter. How anyone had the guts to talk down the child that she had carried for so many months, and birthed under the protection of the Great-Mother. How parents could allow their kids to speak ill of you in such a way, she’d never understand. 
Jake connected the dots in his head, thinking that maybe that’s why you had acted the way that you had on that day. Maybe because you were ‘the ugliest girl in the clan’ or maybe it was because Rangya didn’t think so of you. He didn’t believe that you were what those kids had nicknamed you as, and Jake had selfishly ripped that away from you. 
Though he believed that he was in the right, because no child of 12 years needed a boyfriend anyway. He should’ve just let you be, maybe then you would’ve realised so on your own. You would notice that the only reason why you wanted to be with that boy was because he didn’t treat you like the others. But now it was too late for that, and your father had stripped you from the potential future that awaited you with this boy. 
He let out a grunt of disappointment, moreso towards him than towards the guilty children. He couldn’t help his gaze from flickering from his sobbing mate that he was hugging tightly against his chest, and back towards your innocent frame that was still playing inside of the tent. Kiri was now next to you, brugudly so as her eyerolls said. 
She held one of your wooden dolls in one of her hands, moving it comically as she played around with yours. There was a glint of something else behind those annoyed eyes of hers, some sort of hidden glee. Perhaps not because she was playing with those stupid toys of yours, definitely not that. Maybe it was because she was the first one that you had slightly opened to ever since the incident, and Kiri felt pride in the fact that it was her. 
She was happy to know that you felt safe enough in her presence that you didn’t completely close yourself off whenever you were near her. 
Not long after Jake’s little outburst and a long trip to grandma Mo’at’s tent, she felt disappointment seeping deep within her heart once she couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you. There was nothing wrong in your system that drove you to act in such a way, and it annoyed her to no end that she could not do anything to help her first granddaughter. 
A trip to Norm’s lab was what had been recommended to Neytiri from Jake, and after a long time of overthinking it, she declared that there was no other way. Human technology was definitely more advanced than whatever the na’vi had, and maybe they’d have an answer for what Jake and Neytiri were silently looking for. 
Norm had said that he was no therapist, but it was obvious that the teasing and bullying of kids had affected you in worse ways than they would have imagined. 
And all the while you tried to ignore their sympathetic gazes as Norm explained these things to them. You didn’t want your parents to feel this way for you, you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. You didn’t like becoming an emotional wreck everytime that some stupid kid that you didn’t know made a comment about your different skin. 
Eventually, you grew to accept that the teasing would never cease as long as your vitiligo was part of you. And you also came to terms that your disorder would always be part of you, so what was the point of grieving over something that you couldn’t help? Therefor, you just grew away from it, accepting that maybe this was how you had to live your life. That you'd never experience that wholehearted love that your parents shared.
In the long run, your father and you had managed to come to good terms again. After months of longing silence, you were the first one that had made a move, pleading for his forgiveness because of how you had acted on that day. Though Jake was quick to stop you, putting aside his lack of confidence in the comforting domain as he held you tightly into his arms, apologising on his side. 
Now you stood at 17, arguments and disputes between your father and you now long forgotten. Your vitiligo was still very much there and visible upon your smooth skin, not that you had expected it to lessen in the few years that had passed anyway. You were slightly happier now, despite the kid’s teasing still being present and active, you tried to pay them less attention. 
It didn’t escape you that you were still ‘the ugliest girl in the clan’, but you’d pretend like it didn’t affect you for as long as you had to stay in this clan. You didn’t want for more trouble to rise in your home, so you played it off as though the words didn’t  affect you. When in reality, there were nights where you stayed up to watch the stars all up by yourself, your mind elsewhere as the soothing sound of the river flow calmed your nerves. You’d imagine a potential future with someone that loved you for what you were, with a couple of kids and a big home that would welcome you at the end of the day. 
A future where you’d have someone to kiss and call you pretty at your wake, but they were all just dreams after all. Some alternate reality that your mind had made up to deal with everything that was going on in your life and you had no other option than to just accept that fact. 
-
Upon dismounting your Ikran on the warm beach of Awa’atlu, you could already sense that your family’s presence wasn’t fancied. Your feet had not even had time to brush against the fine grains of sand before thousands of eyes were already turned towards you. Though being the people that you were, it was hard to feel uncomfortable under so many weary stares. However, something about some new sets of eyes ogling you all for the first time felt unsettling.
You stood straight between your two brothers, your rider’s mask still on your face as you tried to keep your posture up to prove that you feared them not.  A quick look around was enough to tell you that this place was beautiful, even though you hadn’t even visited the best parts of it yet. Though it was not home, it would do for now if it meant that staying here kept your family safe. 
The clan leaders were unaccepting at first, well at least Ronal was. It was clear that she didn’t want any of you here, and by her fierce stare, you were no exception. Her eyes visibly widened as she rounded your family, finally falling upon your frame. Her eyes explored your body with no shame, excluded of all crudeness. There was some sort of curiosity and disgust that swirled muddled up in her eyes as she examined you from head to toe. 
Ronal grabbed onto your forearm roughly, shoving you in front of your huddled family group so the whole clan could see you. You couldn’t help but lower your head to your chest in an attempt to hide from their sickening gazes, but their sounds of opposition fell loud to your ears. She pointed out your discoloured patches to the people as though it wasn’t visible upon first look. It made you feel little, the fact that it was people that didn’t even know you, judging you for how you looked. Judging you for the white patches of skin that covered your entire body like an art piece, but to them you were not worthy of that title. 
You could hear the growl of your mother in between all, and the one that Ronal sent her back in hostility. 
An intense feeling of dread was swirling through your chest, what if your family wasn’t given uturu because of you? What would happen then, would you be forced to look for another option of a temporary home? Or was this the only one you could afford from now? Never ending questions ran through your mind as you felt the soft touch of your mother’s hand upon your wrist, slowly pulling you back towards her as Ronal retook her place besides her mate. 
You couldn’t even look your mother in the face after that, too afraid and ashamed of what the Olo’eyktan’s judgement could be because of you. Though you missed the pitiful glances that your family had casted upon you, Tonowari had seemed to have compassion for your family, one that Ronal did not share but had to live within. 
Soon enough, Tonowari had introduced you to his entire family, and a friend of theirs that looked like the sweetest boy that you’ve ever met. He had a mop of curly hair sitting atop of his head, complimenting him well. 
Tsireya was the nicest, a literal guardian angel sent by Eywa herself to watch over your family. Her eyes held no judgement and her words were genuine, so you felt more than comfortable whenever you were with her. It didn’t escape you and your big brother that Lo’ak had already developed a crush on the girl, she was charming and heavenly, you couldn’t really blame him. 
But when an angel’s near, the devil strays not far behind, and he himself was Ao’nung. It was already bad enough sharing the same age and air as this absolute menace, given that he was just like his mother had made everything 10 times worse. He hated your family based on the minimal interaction that you had in those few minutes of introductions. To say that he had some sort of special hatred towards Lo’ak, Kiri and you was an understatement.
He seemed to loathe you even more based on the  fact that his father had picked him to train you, given that you need to adjust to the Metkayina ways. 
Despite everything, the first week in Awa’atlu was literal hell. It was hard to adapt no matter how much you all tried, and the rude eyes of the Metkayina followed you around like a bunch of predators. You were sick and tired of the attention, you just couldn’t escape it. It didn’t matter if it was here or back in the Omaticaya clan, you just wished that you could be invisible to the people.
Now that you’ve hit the 3 weeks mark, too much has happened for you to even recall properly. The amount of fights between Lo’ak and Ao’nung that Neteyam and you had to break apart was uncountable, and facing your father at the end of the day was something that you dreaded more than anything. Added to your mother’s constant nagging at you to stay low, because she feared of how the people would treat you if you did one wrong thing in their eyes. 
It wasn’t that she didn’t fear for her other kids’ safety as well, especially in a clan that she knew little about, with people that didn’t necessarily like you all. She was a little more wary about you, because if you had been treated badly in your previous clan, who knew what this one had in stock for you. She wasn’t blind to the constant staring each time that you’d leave the marui alongside her, she just didn’t like thinking about it. 
Neytiri prays every night for the Great-Mother to lift some burdens off your shoulders. To let you rest at night without having to worry about what other people are saying behind your back, to let you feel normal for just one night. Because she knew that no matter her words, there would always be a longing in your heart to be like them, like everyone else. 
“Do you think this one looks better?” Neytiri snaps her head towards you, watching as you hold a weaved top tightly to your chest. Stretched out across your bust like you were trying to show what it looked like without actually wearing it. Neytiri’s eyes moved towards a second pair that you held loosely by the fingers, before shrugging and choosing the one that was currently sprawled out across your torso. 
You took the unused one, throwing it towards your sister that was looking for a pair of her own. The top hit Kiri in her face, woven beads clanging against her forehead as your attack took her off guard. Quickly recovering, your mother watched with a sigh as the now-angry Kiri tried throwing it back on you, only to miss completely as you laughed hysterically. 
Kiri didn’t seem to have taken your little melee really joyfully, instead she looked like she was ready to murder you. Your laughter died out as you grabbed the top from its discarded position on the floor, walking now calmly towards your little sister. Neytiri couldn’t help the smile that grew upon her face as she watched you open the closed palms of your angry sister, delicately placing your piece of clothing into her hands as you said something to her. 
She knew how close Kiri and you were. She was different just as you were, even if she wasn’t covered with what looked like a bunch of stains. No, instead she was a ‘four fingered freak’ just like you were, quoted by the infamous Ao’nung himself. You both had eyebrows like your father, and Kiri’s biological mother. You were about in the same age category, with you being slightly older. So you both understood and trusted one like no other, and Neytiri knew that behind that grumpy personality of hers, Kiri loved you more than she would ever admit. 
“Mom? You okay?” The sound of her youngest daughter brought Neytiri out of her thinking again, shaking her head as she walked towards Tuk. Later that night there was a big feast that everyone was expected to be present to, and your family was no exception. Though your father was happy to be included, your mother still felt out of place, a little forced. 
-
A group of unruly teenage boys sat in front of a huge bonfire. It sizzled and popped, threatening to burn those who came too near as the wind blew it closer to them. The sound of raucous laughter resounded around the entire zone, but the night was busy and the area was booming with loud voices that engulfed their own. 
Ao’nung sat spaced out between his friends, his legs crossed out before him, a plate of half eaten fish in his hands. He was too busy laughing at whatever joke his friends would crack at every few minutes to even focus on getting his dinner finished. 
From the corner of his eyes, Ao’nung could make out a faint blur of your frame. You were sitting with your family, who they were sitting with…his? Ao’nung’s eyes grew in size as he fully turned his torso around to confirm whatever he had just seen. He watched you sit besides his sister, the both of you talking about something he couldn’t quite make up from afar. You were laughing with Tsireya too, you looked so happy. 
“Aye, brother!” Ao’nung turned his torso back towards his friends, slightly embarrassed of getting caught looking in your direction. Though the smug look on their faces was not what he had expected once he had turned back, and the roll of his eyes was what they had received. He looked back at his plate, raising a piece of fish up in his hands as he brought it to his mouth to eat. He nodded at the boy, signalling  for him to continue his sentence. 
“Aren't ya the one that’s been getting close to that Sully girl?” he nodded his head towards something past Ao’nung’s shoulders, and the boy froze as the laughter picked up again. This time it was louder, more genuine as they all turned their eyes towards you and your family. The boy only shrugged his shoulders at the accusations, nothing he could deny as they had seen it with their own eyes. 
He snarled at his friends once he heard them snigger in return, shutting them up all at once. Way to piss his mood up at the end of a good night, what a bunch of morons. 
“How about a challenge to finish this night right, huh?” Ao’nung ears picked up at the sound of it, visibly raising and turning out towards wherever the voice had came from. He picked his head up, now interested in some good play. Ao’nung had always been known for his big ego and competitive personality, a challenge was not something that he was about to let his friends win. He was going to beat them, no matter what it was. 
His friends exchanged mischievous glances, bumping shoulders together like a bunch of kids as they giggled. Ao’nung couldn’t tell if it was from the one glass of dandelion wine that they had downed earlier or from their sheer stupidity. Nevertheless, they recovered from their childish antics before the boy brushes the dust off of his knees. 
“How about you date that girl for a whole month!” The boy yelled out, a little too loud as a few heads from nearby families turned towards them. Ao’nung’s eyes widened at the demand, not even needing to ask for precisation to know who his friend was talking about. His face contorted in a swift act of disgust before his expression fell again, shaking his head as a ‘no’. 
The noise picked up again as a series of ‘boo’s and ‘awe’s resounded from their group, attracting attention once more. You were unaware of what was currently happening behind your back, instead focusing on hitting your brother’s shoulders playfully as you noticed the longing looks that he would send to Tsireya. 
“What i’m i even getting from this anyways?” Ao’nung quite didn't understand the whole point of this challenge, why would he even participate if he was the only one playing, it was no fun. 
“We haven’t decided yet but…,” he said, outstretching his hand out towards Ao’nung as he spoke. He hesitated before his group of friends, pondering on where really this whole thing would lead him to. It wasn’t like he had feelings for you yet anyways, so there was little to consider when it came to your side of things. “don’t tell me you’re scared of a little challenge?” 
“Looks like she’s already making buddy-buddy with your family,” the booming voice of another boy sent everyone into laughter again as the whole group turned to catch a glimpse of you. “Cmon, look at your future wife!” 
“You don't trust me bro? And here i thought that we were friends.'' The said boy crossed both arms over the area where his heart was, mocking offence as he stared straight into Ao’nung’s similar aqua eyes. There was a sliver of mischief still swirling through his iris, but the boy just shrugged it off. It wasn’t like Ao’nung was altruistic either, he was infamously known for his little shenanigans. 
Though when Ao’nung’s palmed hand met his friend’s under the eyes of Eywa, the dare was sealed and his mind was racing. Surely he didn’t care much about your feelings, he didn’t even seem to appreciate you as a person for that fact. But something about this sounded so, oh so wrong as he released his and his friend’s intertwined hands. But he had done it now, vowed before his group to fulfil his dare, and Ao’nung was never one to back down.
-
this is very fast paced and badly made because i had absolutely no time to write but i tried getting something out for yall🙁
tags: @youcantseem3 @timotheechalametishot @holysaladapricothero
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mvltisstuff · 6 months
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hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot where buck and reader are flirting during the dosed episode? like they get high and are handcuffed and are just giggling and flirting and then accidental confession or something and then the next day they’re just like “i’m pretty sure we’re dating now..” thank you so so much!! this idea just made me giggle so <33
you get me so high - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
gif does not belong to me
a/n: i adore this idea, thank you for sharing <3 i worked on this very sporadically, and i’m not the biggest fan of it but i hope you enjoy!
whoever brought those brownies in was an angel to y/n. yeah, a felony for sure, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t secretly enjoy it.
even though the whole station had been haunted by taylor and her team the entire day, all of the worries of the job seemed to vanish. buck wasn’t sure why, but he just saw everything different than he has before. nature called for him and he was more than excited to be at his job.
he just wanted to laugh at everything, each little girl in front of him was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. he watched y/n from across the room, sitting on the floor and playing with a girl in a massive dress shaped like a pastry.
“where did you get this dress?” she asks, running her fingers down the satin on the side.
“my mommy bought it for me!”
“can she buy one for me?” y/n asks, turning her head to see the grown firefighter skipping over.
“y/n!” he shoots out quickly, jogging over to lean next to her on the ground.
“hi buck! will you buy me a dress like this?”
“only if you buy me one,” he smiles. “maybe we should put bobby in one.” he starts completely laughing at the thought of bobby in a pretty pink dress, with a sash and a tiara.
“what is going on- buck!” chim shouts. “can someone help us over here?”
“how are we not helping?” buck asks, leading y/n to just shrug. they glance over at eddie in the corner, looking at all the pageant girls like they have 5 heads. he almost looks fearful of them, swaying in his spot.
the next few minutes were a blur, and suddenly they were all handcuffed together against a wall. hen, eddie, buck, and y/n were all connected by their hands, being watched by athena like they misbehaved at school.
“ooh, you made him cry!” buck teases, looking at the tears streaming down eddie’s face. y/n just looks closer to athena’s face.
“you’re a hot cop, thena,” y/n speaks airily, just smiling cheekily at the officer in front of her.
“you guys are high as hell and you’re on duty.”
“what?” hen exclaims. “i didn’t smoke anything-“
“well you ate something! someone brought marijuana brownies into the station, so you’re all off work.”
the team just looks around in shock, not fully caring until y/n and buck start giggling once more. “just- just sit down against this wall, and do not move.” athena demands, walking away to deal with the other emergency in the main room.
y/n and buck sat fine against the wall, comparing hands and very lightly slapping each other on the sides. a few spouts of silence would happen for a few minutes while the group of stoners just watched the world pass in front of them.
“buck,” y/n whispers.
“what?” he asks.
“you’re really cute, like i just figured i’d let you know.”
“thanks, you’re a cutie, too,” she giggles at his words, throwing her head back against the wall as he just glances at her. normal, sober buck would’ve had a racing heart and nerves fluttering all over his body because she told him he was cute. he knows he’s not bad looking, but hearing it from her is when he truly believes it. now, he just figured why not? yolo, anyway.
“no, you’re like cute cute. like hot oiled up firefighter cute.”
“that means so much, y/n,” he says, the sly remark almost making his heart clench.
“i want you under my christmas tree.”
“well, i want you in an easter egg for me.”
“well, i want you-“
“can you just shut up?” eddie asks, still distressed about being handcuffed and drugged. “we get it, you’re into each other. and what happens when you’re not high?”
“i don’t remember talking to you,” buck teases, giving eddie a side eye but keeping his head directed towards the pretty girl next to him.
“alright,” athena comes back into sight. “let’s get you all home, maybe sleep off some of this.”
the next morning, y/n remembered every little thing she said to buck, and he remembered every little thing he said to her. they hoped maybe it was like alcohol, making them forget what they may or may not have said, but nope. it was clear as day. it didn’t feel as awkward, though. it felt easier. like a weight was off their shoulders after being weighed down for so long.
when they both arrived at work, the look from the other just told them everything they had to know. buck meant everything he said, and so did she. her eyes lightly wandered over his, and he didn’t even make her say anything. they both knew that those cookies made a great thing burst open.
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mitch-the-silly · 2 months
Note
Hi I’m new to your blog so I apologize if I requested anything wrong in this ask
Could I request a vox x reader where reader comes crying to vox and as he is trying to comfort her someone walks in which makes him switch up to kind and soft to mean and unfair towards reader at one point even pointing out her insecuritys on accident which makes reader cry more and kinda distance herself from him. How would vox feel and comfort ready after this?
Thanks and have An amazing day!
No no, it's ok! You'll find that I LOVE writing angst. It's honestly my area of expertise. And I LOVED this idea so much that when I was looking through my asks just now, I was like "Eh, lemme go to sleep" but I saw your ask and knew I could afford to sleep a bit later!
Anyway, mean Vox is very much real to me (mayhaps even canon)-
For extra angst, The one to walk in will be Valentino and some other Overlords (but mainly Valentino because I hate his goofy, bald ass).
Vox x fem!reader
Angst!!!
Warnings: Valentino (EWWWW)
"Roses are Made of Thons"
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You felt distressed, only one person in this world could console you and you knew it. So you ran to his office and buried yourself in his chest. Your lover, Vox, held you close to him. He was caressing your face with gentle care. He was always so gentle and loving with you, so when he asked you what was wrong and you told him about your sorrows, you confided he’d keep to himself and help you.
“I… I tried my best, and I think I still look terrible! I mean, look at me… I just…” You sniffled, hiccupping from how desperate you were.
“Hey… hey… what did we say? I love you just the way you are. I think you’re cute, you don’t need to try to look good when you already look good.” He spoke, kissing your cheek.
“Really? Are you sure…? I just… I see all the models in your shows… and… I just…” You mumbled, tears threatening to stream down again.
“It’s just a show. And it's meant to appease those dirty fuckers who look like ugly fucking losers with absolutely zero contact with women. It’s not based on my standards…” He reassured you, kissing you again.
However, this would soon be gone, because the door to his office opened without a previous announcement, and storming in came Valentino along with some other overlords. “Ugh, Vox, I need you to settle something- Oh. Are you getting taken care of by your little putita?~” Valentino cooed at him, making fun of your relationship.
You knew he had a thing for Vox, and were very much aware he was salty that Vox had decided to be loyal to you. So it was obvious Valentino hated your guts despite you not really interacting with him.
“It’s nothing important, what do you need?” He smiled, wiping your tears and placing you on his lap. He held your head to his chest, trying to hide your lack of composure.
“Well, look, I had a few drug deals with these two, and I thought you’d paid them but- Vox… why is she moving like that?” Valentino paused, lowering his sunglasses and squinting at you attempting to see better.
“I already told you it was nothing. Are you gonna speak or not?” Vox scoffed, nudging you to stop it.
“She’s distracting me, Vox. Control your bitches or I’ll teach her how I control mine.” Valentino huffed, lighting his cigarette and rolling his eyes.
“Y/n, stop crying, I’m busy right now, go and cry somewhere else please.” Vox spoke, turning towards you, and pushing you off his lap. You tried to wipe your tears, but they kept rolling down your cheek.
Was this really what he was acting like right now? “V-vox but…”
“What is she even bitching about anyway? I bet it’s that outfit she had on. It’s not doing her any favors. I’d cry too if I was in that rag.” Valentino joked cruelly, the other overlords laughed… Vox did too.
“She’s just crying over her not looking good, cut her some slack!” Vox chuckled, and then he turned towards you. “Come on, I’ll get back to you once I’m done with this. Meet me in my room, sweetie.” Vox spoke casually, dismissing you completely.
You couldn’t believe it… he was just shoving you to the side. Giving you the cold shoulder over Valentino and the other overlords… He was making fun of you and even told them the one thing you told him not to say.
You felt hot tears roll down your cheek, and you ran out of the room. Ignoring Vox’s request to wait for him in his room. Matter of fact, you stayed in your own room for a couple of days, sulking, desiring to never see him again after what he’d done to you. You could hear him knock at your door, and try to make amends, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to open the door.
After a few days, you finally decided to come out of your room. Vox had been watching your hallway’s cameras for the past few days, and the second he spotted you out, he zapped to where you were.
“Y/n! Please! Can we talk?” He asked as you turned away form him, still mad at him.
“Please, I know I acted like an asshole, but… I just… If I showed them a soft side they weren’t gonna take me seriously! My whole business is a fake image of myself! If I don't uphold it, I'm fucked! My whole empire falls apart!” He cried out, almost groveling at your feet.
“You… you didn't have to tell them that about me… what I was insecure about…” You mumbled, tears threatening to creep in again.
“I know! And… I… I’m sorry, I was a fucking idiot and I was just feeding Valentino’s little games. I’m way too used to it, but I… I need to work on it, just please… Please don’t leave me! I fucked up, ok? I’m human, please don’t leave me over something I regret doing!” He pleaded, walking closer to you and taking your hand. Begging you for forgiveness.
“I… I need a bit more time… but… I accept your apology…” You mumbled, looking away. “Don’t do that again…”
“I won’t, I promise! I’ll give you your time, just… please don’t cut me off… The days you didn't talk to me were miserable… Please… I can’t live without you…” He begged.
“I heard you the first time… I’ll text you, don’t worry…” You mumbled back, reentering your room.
It was sort of a win for Vox, but he’d gotten too carried away. He’d already made sure to cuss out Valentino for his behavior. But he really had to get his life together. He just knew that if he pulled another one like this, he’d lose her.
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call-sign-shark · 1 year
Text
✨Angel in Disguise ✨
Part 2 : Angel in Distress || Part 3: Angel In Panic
Summary: Studying hard for the Uranium Mission, you fall asleep in the meeting room. Hangman takes care of you...  Bonus: Bob's cameo.
Words: 1K
Tags: None, this is fluff.
Ask to be added to the taglist!
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Jake had never been a heavy sleeper. The slightest noise usually made him jumped off his bed and look around him in panic. From his childhood to the man he is today, his sleep has always been plagued by nightmares. That is why he never wanted to spend the night with you after you had sex. He would put his clothes back on, wink at you with that specific cocky flat-lipped grin and leave before you could ask him if he wanted to stay. Somehow, you grew used to it, even though it still hurt you. When you start fucking together, you both made it clear that it was just for fun. Because of your job, neither of you  allowed yourself to have a stable and serious relationship. But a part of you could not help but hope it was not just for the sex. At least, you could be friend? But you highly doubted that, for even during the day Jake behaved with you as he would behave with anyone: typical arrogant Hangman demeanor.
Tonight was one of those sleepless nights when Morpheus' arms could not reach him for his sweet embrace. Rather than turning around again and again in his bed, Jake decided to wander aimlessly in the military base. His plan was to grab something hot to drink, a coffee or a tea,  and to go for a night walk in order to keep both his mind and time busy. That was what he was doing when he noticed light coming from under the door of the meeting room. He furrowed his blond brows, perplexed. Was someone in there? He listened carefully, on the lookout for the smallest sound he could hear. After a few minutes of complete and peaceful silence, Jake came to the conclusion that someone had just forgotten to switch the lights off. Well, he had nothing else to do so he entered the room and reached for the switch. He was about to switch the lights off when he noticed a motionless silhouette, sitting further away in the room. Recognizing the overall, he understood it was certainly one of his crewmates. Judging by their peaceful and slow breathing, they were probably asleep. He wondered who it could be though. 
Jake walked towards the unidentifiable dagger to see who had fallen asleep here. How surprised he was when he recognized your adorable face. Your left cheek was pressed against your crossed arms, which were resting on the table. All around you were scattered the F-14 manual, the plan of the missions, and many other papers on which was written each maneuver and how to do them. You knew this information by heart, but your anxiety forced you to re-read them again and again.
The tall blonde man gently shook his head - he had not even noticed how anxious you were. The truth was you were so used to hiding your emotions that no one could read what you were hiding behind your smile. A twinge of sadness and remorse pinched his heart at the thought he had not been there for you. He should have reassured you, he should have helped you, but he did not. Jake started to wonder how many times he had missed the moments you were hurting, and it made him feel terribly guilty.. He who had been busy avoiding you during the day by fear of not being able to control the fucking feelings he started to have for you.
He ran his large and calloused hand through your hair with a surprising tenderness. As he did, he observed your attractive face, relaxed by your sleepy mind. You were breathtakingly beautiful... A faint and soft smile stretched the corners of his mouth at such a beautiful sight. His fingers gently brushed your seductive lips he was always craving. 
Jake decided he could not let you sleep in that uncomfortable position. Noticing the faint goosebumps on your arms, he first took his flight jacket off and put it on your shoulders to keep you warm. It was a dark brown leather jacket with fake lighter brown fur inside. Several patches had been sewn from here to there on the leather. Instinctively, you snuggled in his jacket, lulled by the warmth and the delicate masculine perfume you knew far too well. Your shoulders relaxed, as if your whole body assimilated Jake with safety, which was the case to be true. 
"Hey sleepy head, I'm going to bring you to your bed." 
You perceived his voice but did not quite understand what he said, for you were still dozing. All you could do was mumbling some inintelligible words. Jake could not help but snort with amusement. You were so damn cute .. He carefully carried you, bride-style, in his muscular arms. Instinctively again, you snuggled against his warm chest. He walked out of the meeting room, managing to switch the lights off with his elbows. 
He walked through the corridors, with you sleeping in his arms. Yet, he felt you moving and grunting slightly because your mind noticed that your body was being moved in another location.
"Alright, alright, alright... My bedroom is nearer." He whispered, even though he was not sure you were listening to him.
After a few minutes, he got to his room's door. Jake stopped in front of it and lowered his gaze towards your sleepy face to check on you. Fortunately enough he had not disrupted your sleep. You really needed some rest after all the anxiety you experienced lately. Once again, he smiled as he looked at your sleepy pout and realized how much you meant to him. Maybe he should consider talking to you about your relationship... Maybe you could be more than fuck buddies? Jake 's face leaned over yours, and he gently pressed his lips against yours to give you an adorable peck. His face backed off and he smirks - he had missed your lips. 
A sudden unpleasant thrill ran down his spine. He was feeling watched. Jake clenched his jaws and looked around him...
Only to find Bob, standing in the corridor. 
"The fuck you're doing here?"
"I got up to snack on something." Bob answered, his hand on the doorknob as he had frozen in this position when he saw Hangman kissing you.
"... Don't tell anyone." 
"Hm." Bob shrugged, letting him struggle with a vague answer.
After all, he had always known there was something between Hangman and you.
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