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#“your in pain but just deal with it like I do”
seonghwaddict · 2 days
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the best of the best — jeong yunho
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in which yunho didn’t expect his tiring shift to end with fucking the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into the clinic.
ripperdoc!jeong yunho x fem!reader. genre. smut. cyberpunk 2077 au. warnings. non-sexual use of daddy, explicit sexual content mdni, big dick!yunho but what else is new, fingering, BACKSHOTS, yunho is a tease, implied voice kink, creampie, he gets a little rough, nicknames (pretty, baby, princess). wc. 2.5k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this is really REALLY rushed because i was hit with inspiration and started writing without actually stopping so like sorry if it’s ass lol. her cyberware is based on this.
DEFINITIONS. ripperdoc; medical practitioners that can install cybernetic prostheses, called cyberware // eddies; game currency. feel free to ask for any clarifications.
listening to. cyberpunk, ateez (duh).
masterlist.
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yunho sighed as he threw a bloodied towel into the sink, hands finally clean after having installed some new cyberware on a customer. his day was spent operating edgerunners, never quite seeming to catch a break. but what else could he do as the best ripperdoc in the district, let alone this shithole of a clinic? besides, he somewhat liked his job and the pay was well, his way with words getting customers to give him a few more eddies than they were obliged to.
but, alas, it was finally closing time and he’d no longer have to deal with people until the next day. or at least that’s what he hoped.
the familiar sound of the clinic’s door rang through the lobby, singaling someone had entered before he could lock up and making his sigh in exasperation. he pinched the bride of his nose, calling out over his shoulder from the backroom, knowing whoever it was would still be able to hear him. “we’re closed, come back tomorrow!”
“please, it’s an emergency!” the person replied and he froze.
a desperate, feminine plea. yunho can’t say he’s used to hearing that tone in the clinic. with furrowed brows, he emerged from the backroom to the lobby, right behind the counter as he laid his eyes on you. he was obviously much taller than you, looking up at him with round doe eyes and softly flushed cheeks. you wore a short black skirt and a loose sweater; not a sight he was used to here either, not that he was complaining as his eyes momentarily flickered to the sliver of cleavage exposed by the low neckline. maybe he could make an exception… no. he wanted nothing more than to go home, and a pretty little thing like you couldn’t just magically change his mood.
“my ‘ware has been acting up and i heard this is the best clinic in the area,” you walked closer to the counter, one of the steps looking particularly painful as you winced mid-sentence and stumbled before continuing, “please, sir, i promise i’ll pay you well.”
he down at you with a raised eyebrow, letting a beat of silence wash over you before he finally answered with a sigh, “fine. go through that curtain and wait on the table. the metal one.”
you followed his hand to see him pointing at a curtain much like the ones separating beds in hospitals. with a quiet nod, you shuffled over as he ducked through the door he previously came out of. there was a small space behind the curtain and it reeked of hand sanitiser as you sat down, the table cold against your thighs. you smoothed your skirt down as he walked through the curtain and set down a tray of tools on a desk pushed against the wall.
“so, where’s the problem?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over that had you feeling a little nervous.
“my back,” you muttered, looking down at your hands shyly as they played with the hem of your sweater, “i’ll have to take this off, if that’s okay.”
“oh, um…” he blinked before nodding and clearing his throat, moving to stand behind you. “yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
after a moment of hesitation, your body stretched lightly as you pulled the shirt over your head, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight. an intricately designed thin silver chrome spine merged with your skin and extending from between your shoulderblades down to just above your ass. instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of it, biting his bottom lip as he caught the way your back arched slightly.
“god, you’re a masterpiece.” he couldn’t help but sigh out as he let his fingertips explore the metal and the skin surrounding it. the clasp of your bra covered up just a little bit of it, but there was plenty more to see. after a moment, he caught a glimpse of a little spark in the metal on the small of your back, humming. “i see the problem… must be some sloppy wiring. i’ll take care of you, baby, just relax and stay still. you can do that for me, can’t you?”
“y-yeah.” you practically squeaked out, mentally slapping yourself for making it obvious how his words and touches made you feel.
he grinned but didn’t say anything, reaching for his tools and beginning to work. as he did, he deliberately brushed his fingertips or his wrist against your skin, against anywhere he could reach while fixing the wiring between the blades of the metal spine, just because he enjoyed messing wiht you. your waist seemed to get the most reactions out of you, unable to hold back your hitched breaths and your thighs pressing together. you were so sensitive and sweet, trying to hold back all your sounds as he riled you up with teasingly calculated touches.
“how’d you pay for this, anyway? a mod like this must’ve cost a fortune.”
“my daddy paid for it,” you explained with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting something like this for forever, so he let me get it done on my 18th birthday.”
he raised his eyebrows in surprise, nodding with a soft smile. “well, baby, you must be daddy’s pride and joy if he’s willing to drop so much on an implant like this that does nothing but make you look that much more appealing.”
“appealing?” you echoed his description of you, glancing back at him over your shoulder, “you think so?”
“of course, i’m not blind,” he roles his eyes playfully, licking eyes with you before going back to work, “in fact, i’m jealous i wasn’t the one to install all this ‘ware.”
it didn’t help that as he talked, his breath fanned over the back of your neck since he adjusted the table to raise you higher for him to work more comfortably. you learned each other’s names as he talked you through the procedure, trying to distract you from the occasional prods of a needle and sparks of the wires. he also liked to watch goosebumps form on your skin and the way your back arched just a little more as he responded to your words with low hums or muttered acknowledgments.
his hands feel a little colder than your skin as he barely runs them down your back, eyes trained on the gleaming metal. the tips of his fingers momentarily dipped below the back of your bra before slipping out again.
“does anything hurt?” he asked quietly, in a tone he noticed always made you stutter a little.
“n-no.” you shook your head before holding your breath, feeling his hands covers your waist and move down slowly, holding your hips lightly.
“good.” he hummed, nodding and removing his hands before stepping away from you completely.
the loss of his hands made your brows furrow as you looked at him, stepping into your line of vision with his back turned to you as he put away his tools.
“did you need something, princess?” he tilted his head at the sight of the pout you were trying so hard to hide, voice taking on a mocking tone.
your cheeks warmed and your brain short-circuited as he took a step toward the metal table he sat you on, standing a breath away from your knees and leaning down to your eye level. his hands braced on the table of either sides of your hips. if he wanted to, he could lean forward just a few inches and his lips would finally press against yours.
“you.” you blurted out without thinking, unable to process any thoughts in the flustered state he put you in.
“me, huh?” yunho chuckled, silky and low, fingertips brushing against the hem of your skirt as he pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at you. “a ripperdoc like me who works in heywood fixing cyberware? you need me, baby?”
flustered and a little speechless, you could only nod, lips parted as you left out soft breaths and looked up at him with eyes that begged him to kiss you. his hands left your skirt but found you again quickly, one on your waist and the other cupping the side of your face, half of his hand buried in your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips against yours.
a whimper made it past you as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, mingling with yours and exploring. you felt him smile against your lips as you let out that sound, his fingers in your hair holding you a little tighter as his hand on your waist slid down your thigh. you, however, didn’t feel that hand moving until his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, somehow easily finding your clit through the fabric and eliciting a whine as he pulled his lips away from you.
“so wet and i’ve barely done anything.” he whispered, kissing you again as he nudged the fabric aside to run two digits through your folds, quiet squelching sounds mixing with your little moans and whimpers as he circled your clit excruciatingly slowly.
not expecting his hands to feel so good, you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming, unable to kiss back very skilfully. he circled your clit with just the right speed and pressure, keeping you restless as your pussy clenched around nothing and click slowly dripped out to smear against the table and inner thighs.
yunho gave your swollen nub a sudden pinch and you winced, your hands on his biceps clenching as he pulled away from you with a click of his tongue. “didn’t i tell you to stay still, princess?”
you parted your lips to respond but could only moan languidly as his fingers easily pushed themselves into you, crooking and perfectly prodding against your sweet spot.
“do my fingers feel too good? is it too much for you, pretty?” he mocked with a fake pout, drawing his fingers out before pushing back in. you felt his hand drop from your hair to reach for something and with a push of a button, the table lowered itself smoothly.
moments later you were on your knees, facing away from him, hips pulled up and chest pushed down. some time while he moved you to this position, he managed to remove your skirt and bra. your nipples brushed against the cold surface of the table, shuddering at the feeling combined with one of his hands kneading your ass intently while the other ran down the length of your spine. as he got to the small of your back, he pushed down a little harder, making your back arch.
“hm, so pretty and perfect,” he hummed as his clothes and very much erected cock pressed against your flushed core. you let out a broken whine, burying your face into your forearm comfortably, his fingers sliding through your folds again and spreading them apart. he groaned at the sight, your wetness glistening in the neon lighting of the clinic, spread between your thighs messily, needy hole fluttering.
when he finally pressed his tip into you and eased his way in, your breath hitched followed by a moan of his name, hands clenching as you pushed back against him. he steadied your hips with his hands, eyes rolling back from your tightness as he bottomed out and stilled to revel in the feeling if you wrapped around him for a moment.
butterflies roared in your stomach as he leaned down and kissed the top of your spine sloppily, pulling out before rolling his hips against yours. you weren’t used to this angle, especially not with someone as huge as him, but your embarrassing amount of arousal made it easy for him to move. you cursed softly, a string of whines and moans falling from your swollen lips as his fingers dug into your hips and his teeth explored your upper back, licking and sucking and biting marks into your skin.
“f-fuck, you feel s-so good.” he moaned, forehead dropped between your shoulder blades for a moment before he straightened up again, pulling your hips against his harshly as he thrusted into you, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.
not long after that you felt a knot quickly tightening in your abdomen, feeling your breath knocked out of your lungs with each snap of his hips. one of his arms wrapped around your waist before venturing lowers so he could rub at your clit quickly, the knot drawing tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“y-yunho- i’m g-gonna-“
“let go, baby. go on, be a good girl and cum for me,” he cut you off, voice gentle despite his rough movements, snapping the waistband of your panties against you, “you’ll cum for me, won’t you? i’m making you– fuck, i’m making you feel so good, right? p-please cum, baby, just let go.”
his words egged you on and soon enough you did as he said, shuddering and clenching and squealing as you came all over his cock, your juices drooling down his length as he continued pounding into you. his hand left your clit to grab your hips tightly, chasing his own high now that you finished. knowing what he needed, you clenched around him rhythmically, whimpering softly because you knew he liked the sound.
without warning, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up with his hot release. your combined panting and shivers filled the area as he emptied himself. once he collected himself, he pulled out slowly, shuddering as he did so before tucking your panties back into place before his cum could seep out of you. he flipped you around easily and found your lips.
you kissed each other lazily for a while, mind foggy after your orgasms. you gasped against his lips softly as you felt his fingers press right on the fabric covering your hole.
“if you can keep everything in while i close up, i’ll take you to my place for another round… or maybe a few more,” he kissed your cheek, reaching to the side and giving you your clothes before tucking himself back into his pants, “if you’re up for it, of course.”
you giggled, also kissing his cheek in return. “i’d like that, actually. you have a really good dick.”
“is that so? good thing a pretty girl like you only deserves the best.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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pbueckerslover · 1 day
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gf paige headcanons pt. 2 ⋆·˚ ༘
warnings: mentions/talks of sex, fluff
notes: ty for all the love on part 1!! i’m having sm fun w/ these headcanons so lmk if you have any specific suggestions :)
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-loves braiding your hair any chance she can get
-secretly loves being little spoon and laying in your arms
-will always take care of you when you’re sick or on your period (she’ll buy you all of your fav snacks, drinks and anything that will cheer you up)
-when you’re on your period she’ll rub your stomach and back because she understands the pain and just wants her girl to feel better
-will binge your favorite tv shows and movies with you
-takes you shopping whenever she feels like it because she knows you deserve that princess treatment !!!!
-loves to surprise you when you haven’t seen each other for a while (she’ll make a big deal out of it and buy you things, take you out to dinner, decorate your place, etc.)
-always touching you in some way because she just can’t keep her hands off of you
-definitely makes you do tiktoks with her and kk and will teach you the dances
-loves taking bubble baths with you it’s her fav thing to do to wind down after a long day
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nsfw warning!!!
-strap game goes CRAZYYYYY
“want you to ride my cock baby” “taking my cock so well babygirl”
-her fav thing to do is take care of you especially after you’ve had a long day “let me make you feel better baby, i know just the thing to cheer you up”
-loves it when you take control like it’s literally the most attractive thing you can do in her opinion
-jealous as hell!!! even if someone stares at you for too long she’ll drag you out of wherever you are and once you get home you know you’re in for a long night
“you’re all mine baby” “nobody will every fuck you as good as me you got that?”
-morning sex w her 🤭🤭🤭
-she absolutely loves it when you wear lingerie or something sexy for her and she thinks you look so pretty in it but all she can think about is ripping it off of you
-whispers the nastiest shit in your ear when you’re in public just to see you get all worked up
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authors note: pls send more suggestions i love these!! 💌
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The hero didn’t even want to look at it.
“Okay,” the villain said. Despite the tears in their eyes, they were a little too calm for the hero’s liking. But they supposed they had always been the opposite to the hero when it came to stressful situations.
Usually the hero could deal with stress pretty well, they were a hero after all, but it was getting increasingly difficult to operate when neither time nor solutions were on their side. It was frustrating and the hero wasn’t used to losing.
“You have to break my femur now,” the villain said. They looked down at the wound and then at the hero who prayed this was a poorly timed joke. “Remember, it’s the strongest and thickest bone in the body, so you may need quite a bit of force.”
“I am not going to break your bones, I—” The hero wanted to throw up. They could see parts of the injury under all that rubble and they didn’t want to imagine how much pain the villain was in right now. The villain didn’t scream nor curse, they bottled everything up and let tears speak for themselves. They knew the villain was tough. But could anyone be this tough?
It was one of the villain’s qualities they admired oh so much but it was also something that seemed to doom them.
“It’s just one bone. I’d do it myself but the angle is shitty and you’re stronger.”
“No, don’t make me do this.” The villain grabbed the hero’s arm quickly and stared them dead in the eye. Their fingers dug into the hero’s suit but it was just a fraction of the pain the villain endured.
The hero panicked. If they had been any other person — hero or villain — they wouldn’t have hesitated to break the bone. But this was them. They didn’t want to hurt them, they didn’t want to break any of their bones.
“Listen, if we want to save my leg, you have to break it. We don’t have much time. I’m bleeding out and I need some fucking painkillers. I’m not gonna stay here so your hero-friends can arrest me.” Their face was pale and the hero’s tongue was heavy.
“I can’t, please, I cannot do that to you.”
“I’m just another villain on your list to cross out,” the villain said. They squeezed the hero’s arm harder and their eyes widened, as if a wave of pain had just hit them. They made a noise close to a grunt but again, they were hiding it perfectly.
“No, you’re not, you’re really not.”
“If you want to save my life, you’ll have to do this. You’re a hero, aren’t you?” The hero had no words left.
The truth was, they had had a crush on the villain for quite some time now and even though they knew rationally they needed to do this, they weren’t quite there emotionally yet.
“You should get a pipe. You crush the bone and then hopefully, it’ll be easier to pull me out. The angle should be better. I might pass out though, I’ll just…” They didn’t look as confident anymore.
“If we wait for my friends to arrive, they can help you, maybe I can—”
“They will arrest me if I’m not dead by then. I’m counting on you.”
I’m counting on you.
The hero’s fingers trembled. Breaking someone’s bone — they had never done that on purpose. And yet, they knew the villain was right. It seemed to be the only way out for them.
“I called you,” the villain said, “because I trust you. I need you. I’ll do you a favour in return, I promise. Just, please.”
The hero took the villain’s hand and pulled it close to their chest.
“I’ll do it,” the hero said.
“Great.” Unsurprisingly, the villain wasn’t happy. Their other hand was shaking and they looked already traumatised. The hero wished they could make this easier but there didn’t seem to be any options left.
“I’ll just have to tell you something real quick.”
“What?”
“I have a crush on you.” The villain stared at them. They didn’t look mad nor did they look annoyed.
“Wait. Really?”
“Yes.”
The hero just had to tell them. If this was it, if the villain would get captured or worse, if they died, they needed to know that the hero had crush on them.
They wouldn’t be able to deal with that for the rest of their life. So whatever happened now, the villain would live through it, knowing what they meant to the hero.
“This is really bad timing, darling.” Another tear ran down the villain’s cheek. They squeezed the hero’s hand.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get the pipe.” The hero didn’t find one. Instead, they found a brick. None of them were particularly enthusiastic about that. “Okay. Again, I’m really sorry.”
The hero grabbed the brick with two hands.
“Wait.” The hero did. “I think I like you too.”
“That doesn’t make it easier,” the hero whispered.
“I thought you needed the challenge.” As answer, the hero let out something closer to a sob than a laugh.
What happened next would give them nightmares for the following decades.
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Finally Together
When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.
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"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."
"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.
He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.
"How..."
"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.
Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.
"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.
"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."
Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.
"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"
"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"
I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.
I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.
To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.
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I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.
He stood up and greeted me.
"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"
"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.
"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.
"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."
"A complaint? About what?"
"Your staff."
"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"
"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."
The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?
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"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."
I felt my face reddening from anger.
"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."
The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"
"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."
"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."
Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.
"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.
Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.
"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."
I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.
"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."
In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.
I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.
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With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.
In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.
The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.
While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.
The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.
"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.
My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.
Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.
Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.
I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.
The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.
So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.
I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.
Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.
Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.
Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.
Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.
A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.
Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.
That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.
It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.
It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.
Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.
However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.
Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.
"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"
I was taken aback by his reaction.
"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"
"Who?"
"Mathilda, your best friend."
Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.
"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"
"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."
He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."
I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.
"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."
He looked at me skeptically.
"Fine. I'll listen."
With that, he let me into his apartment.
"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"
"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.
Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.
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The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.
I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.
"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"
"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.
"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."
Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.
Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.
"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."
"Uh... what?"
I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.
"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!
"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."
I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.
Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.
Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.
"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.
"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"
I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.
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dinogoofymutated · 2 days
Note
Hey not sure if your currently taking requests but I just wanted to I soooooo stoked that you write for Remy! I've been starved for years cuz there's like no fan fics for him😭.
anyway I was wondering if you could do like a fic or headcannon where gambit somehow got hurt on a mission and is on bed rest but is also like really horny because you wont have sex with his since hes hurt.
If not that's fine I just thought it up and thought it would be hilarious 😂. Anyway luv your work, keep it up😘
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NSFW!Gambit/AFAB!Reader
MMMMMHHHMMMMMM BESTIE UR MIND. ABSOLUTE GENIUS. I hope that you don't mind I did make it NSFW there at the end but the majority is just teasing our favorite gambler. Also, This is for the folks who were also really attracted to that one scene in criminal minds with the bulletproof vest. iykyk.
TWs: teasing, sexual innuendos, explicit smut, Handjobs, Mutual masturbation, PNV sex. Raw sex. (Wrap it bf you tap it yall) Creampie. Reader written with Fem! pronouns.
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"Asolutetly not." You're quick to say it. Gambit pouts as the words leave your mouth, still on the infirmary bed with all the wires and doodads still hooked up to him. He's giving you those scoundrel puppy eyes that he knows you usually give in to, but you're not willing to budge this time.
"No, Remy. I will not be-" You take a quick glance around the room, leaning in a little closer as you begin to whisper-yell at him. "-I will not be having sex with you right now!" Remy sighs in a pitiful way leaning against the headboard in your direction. You can’t begin to look him in the eyes right now, instead lightly pushing his face away from your spot, sitting close to his bed on a chair that you had moved from the corner. His pout turns into an amused smile, as he instead takes your hand in his own, moving it down to press a kiss to your palm. You try not to blush at him. You’re supposed to be standing strong, dammit! 
  "Come on, Chère. S' not like it's gonna make Gambit hurt any worse-” You cut him off by lightly slapping his abdomen. Remy immediately flinches, curling in on himself with a pained groan. You feel a little guilty afterward, flattening your palm to rub the area soothingly.
    “Yes, it would. Remy, I could seriously hurt you. You heard beast, any vigorous activity could rip your stitches.” You say, moving to where you can sit on the bed, facing him. You cup the side of his face, gently moving stray locks out of the way. He rolls his eyes, not at you, but at the memory of the talking-to he got when he had woken up in the infirmary. 
    “Never stopped me before. Since I been with the X-men it’s like everythin’ become a big deal. So what if I rip a few stitches here an’ there?” Remy grumbles. You give him a stern look, before leaning in to kiss his temple. He melts into your touch.
    “It is a big deal, Remy. You need to heal. End of discussion.” You say gently. Remy thinks on it for a moment, before giving you a slight smirk. 
    “And by “end of discussion” you really mean “Until Gambit tempts me into bed”, Right?” He says. You roll your eyes at him before standing. If that’s the attitude he’s going into these next weeks with, you know for a fact he’s going to be insufferable.
    You were right. The incoming weeks were almost as much torture to you as they most definitely were to him. Wherever you went in the mansion, Gambit was sure to follow. He’d be in the kitchen while you would be cooking, unable to help due to doctor's orders, but no one ever said that he had to stay out of the kitchen. He’s come up behind you, snaking his arms around your hips as he’d “Give you pointers”. He’d lean close and whisper in your ear, sometimes giving it a tip or two. But one thing about Gambit is that every time you turned him away, or laughed at him and told him to sit down, he’d get pouty. 
    That was a trend that continued. He’d deliberately go out of his way to tease you, on movie night, in the library, in the showers even. And every time, despite how hot under the collar you might have been, you turned him away. The more bothered you seemed to be however, his pouts turned into smirks. Eventually, you got fed up with it. You were trying to be a good girlfriend and make sure Remy didn’t hurt himself, but if he was going to be a brat about it, you could be a brat too.
    You started off a little more subtly than Remy did. Lingering touches here and there, kissing him just long enough to leave him wanting. You’d wear just a tad less clothing around him, or wear slightly lower-cut tops. You were beginning to realize just how easy it was to get him riled up.
    One particular day, the tension was thick in the air, having coalesced into something barely breathable. Remy was lying back on the bed on his elbows as you redressed his wound, making sure to spread ointment onto the healing stitches and care for the skin. You frequently found yourself drawn to the sight of his lower abs, the large bruise having begun to yellow as it healed. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't seen his skin in a while, but the sight of him had you breathing a little funny. Remy was also a little quieter than normal, unable to look away from your gentle hands as you took care of him.
    Once you finished, you lingered by his side, a hand pressed against his chest. You look up to find him already watching you, but neither of you says anything. You purse your lips, debating on whether or not you’re doing what you think you’re about to do. Remy tilts his head at you questioningly. He opens his mouth to speak but fails to do so as your hand trails down to his waistband. He takes a shocked breath through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he’s looking at you again through a lustful haze. 
    “Thought you said-”
    “Shut up.” You sigh, cutting him off. Remy smirks at you, biting his lip. You roll your eyes, caressing the crotch of his pants a few times before you begin to slip them off of him.
    “Don’t get too excited.” You whisper, but really it sounds more like a needy sigh. “Just a handy, okay?” Jambit huffs a laugh at you, but doesn’t tease. He's practically bucking his hips into your hand when you finally take hold of his cock, stroking him to hardness. You can’t seem to look away from the sight, watching as his abdomen clenches with every stroke from base to tip. You twist your hand on the upstroke, listening as Remy lets out a curse and a sudden moan just as you thumb his head, collecting his abundant precum as you use it to stroke back down again. 
    “You’re really pent up, huh?” You ask in a heated whisper. Remy’s head is tilted back in pleasure, and he huffs in amusement as he cracks an eye open at you. His hand slides up your thigh, Your legs being pressed against each other tightly to find some friction. You gasp as he suddenly slides two of his fingers up the inside seam of your pants, and you can practically feel yourself get wetter at the touch. 
    “Looks like I’m not the only one.” Remy hums. You can’t seem to pull away from him as he continues to stroke you. The air is hardly breathable, and the burning in your chest and your core starts to become too hot to ignore. 
    “Fuck it.” You say. Remy is confused when you let go of him, only to break into a wide smile when he realizes you were beginning to strip. The shirt is first to go, before your bra, and then your jeans and underwear. Remy wolf-whistles at the sight, and you wave him off, embarrassed. 
    “Couldn’t stay away from the temptation of Remy LeBeau, Now could you Chère?” Remy muses. He’s such a goof. You try to hide your smile as you carefully straddle his legs, making sure to avoid his sore spots. One of his hands holds onto your upper thigh, the other making its way to your center. He strokes you languidly with his fingers before circling your slit and pushing two inside. You suck in a breath, careful to set your hands on his shoulders without putting any weight onto them. 
    “Looks like this pretty pussy missed me as much as I missed you,” Remy says breathlessly. His eyes flicker from your cunt up to your bare breasts, and then to your flushed face. You feel like you’re falling apart too quickly, already climbing that high as he fingers you with those hands you love so much.
    “Remy,” You call for him breathlessly. “ m’ not gonna last too long.” Remy can't help himself any longer, and pulls you closer to catch you in a passionate kiss. He drags his teeth across your bottom lip, letting go of the plush skin. He doesn't withdraw his fingers until your thighs begin to shake and you start to clench down on him. You whine as he does so, barely holding your composure. Remy takes your hand off of his cock, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before gently dragging your hips further into his lap. Your mind is hazy, but you know to be careful as he lines himself up.
    “If we're going to do this, we're taking it my speed, okay?” You say. Remy nods, barely taking in the information. He was ready to be inside you. After weeks of nothing- all he could think about was you. Your giggles, your smiles. Your body. The way you taste on his tongue. The feeling of your thighs clenching around his head.  Remy would do anything you asked of him at this moment.
    You take it slow as you lower yourself down on his cock. The stretch of him feels delicious against your inner walls. Remy leans in, kissing and sucking on your breasts as you take your time. He bottoms out with a wet sound, his hands resting against your upper thighs.
    Remy curses as you begin to move, bouncing on his cock somewhat slowly. Even in the haze of your lust, you're worried about hurting him. Remy, on the other hand, doesn't share the same sentiment. His hands clench around your thighs, and when he can't seem to take the slow speed anymore, he slams you down onto him.
    You gasp at the action, and apologies spill from his lips as he tilts you forward, knocking your balance so you're forced to lean onto him as he controls the pace, eagerly thrusting into your heat. 
    “Remy-” Your protests are cut off with a kiss as your favorite scoundrel begins to take exactly what he wants. His grunts and moans beneath you send another trickle of warmth inside of you. To be honest, seeing him take control like this was hot- almost hot enough for you to forgive the fact that he was certainly overexerting himself- but it was hard to be mad at him when he's fucking you so good.
    One thing about Remy is that he's a talker in bed. If anything, you were surprised he was as “quiet” as he had been the majority of the time. But once he started to get closer to his peak, Remy began to ramble. 
    "You think you're smart? -Ah! Teasing me like that.. mmh… expecting me to just take it?" You're not really paying attention to his words, nodding in response while only thinking about his steady grip on your thighs and ass and the peak you're reaching so quickly. Remy squeezes you harder, almost harshly as he begins to take you faster. His hips begin to stutter, thrusts starting to do him in one by one. 
    Remy lets out a loud groan as he reaches his peak, burying himself deeply inside you and thumbing your clit. He continues to thrust as he helps you reach that white-hot peak of pleasure, pressing kisses to your temple as you ride it out on top of him. By the time you're both fully finished, you're panting for air. You're fully collapsed onto Remy's chest, Remy being absolutely boneless as he rests against the headboard. 
    “You’re such an idiot.” You say when you finally have enough sense. Remy just chuckles, continuing to press kisses to every part of your face and neck he can reach. You sigh happily as he does so, pressing some of your own kisses to his shoulder.
    When you finally peel yourself off of his chest, the first thing you check in on is his bandages. You scowl when you see that they've been soaked through with sweat, but more concerning is the spot of red that has started to form. You look up at Remy with narrowed eyes, and he quickly looks down as well, before looking back up at you and simply shrugging with a gleeful smile.
    “Casualty of love, Chère.”
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risuola · 1 day
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ENTRY #5 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU
My eyes are glossed, And my heartbeat skips, I crave, I am lost In the nectar of your lips.
cw: arranged marriage!au, fluff — 2,0k words
a/n: you welcomed the series so warmly and lovely, that I made this part longer. it's sickly sweet, it's fluffy — enjoy!
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“What the hell am I doing–“
You groaned. Again and again. Sighing and throwing your hands into the air, helpless and hopeless. Resignation crawling up your skin, threatening to fight and win with your stubbornness and determination. You felt the characteristics you proud yourself with falter and peel away along with your pride and dignity and you found it ironic — pathetic — that years of harsh trainings, of bloody torture you endured, years of fights and pain did nothing to break you and now you’re losing your mind over a goddamn mochi.
Mochi.
A dessert made of rice dough, sweet and objectively adorable with its round shape and sugary filling. If someone asked you how much time you spent in the kitchen already, heating up the glutinous rice flour, mixing and kneading the dough, you wouldn’t know. Hours, most likely. Fighting a battle that you weren’t ready for, mixing ingredients, adding water, whisking, and then kneading again, burning your fingers and pads of your palms more times than you’d ever admit. And you hated it. Hated the corn starch that dusted all around the place, the sticky mass of heated rice flour that you tried to get just right and above all, you hated how much time it took you before it finally started to look like something you can work with.
“There we go,” you mumbled, kneading and stretching the dough between your hands and the marble countertop. There was a reason you were a fighter, not a cook and the current state of your kitchen made enough of a proof. Mochi now, cleaning later.
The fillings were delicious, you had to pat yourself on the back. You were very lucky today to grab the sweetest strawberries you ever ate. They tasted like summer, like hot, tropical heaven and you fought with yourself before you ate them all. The cream you whipped turned out just perfectly thick and fluffy. Then the green edamame paste — your husband’s favorite — came out just as good. Decadent almost, smooth and sweet, with perfect, bright green color and texture of a cloud. Half of your cream you mixed up with melted chocolate and while happy with the insides, you were still a little concerned about the dough.
You’re not gonna be defeated by a rice dough.
You managed to roll out the mass very thinly, perfectly, and began forming mochi, which turned out to be much easier to do than you anticipated.
Take the dough.
Scoop on the filling.
Close the dough.
Roll.
Repeat.
You filled up a tray, all of the balls prettily displayed on top of a parchment paper and you took it upon yourself to have a taste of each one. Delicious. Absolutely mind-blowing.
To the fridge they go.
Now clean.
* * *
Satoru got home around 7 pm — typical, if nothing comes up or hold him at work. His job as a teacher, you learned it quickly, was repetitive, predictable. He’s out the door just shy of 10 am and back near the evening, before the soft pinks and oranges of the summer turn into nightly blues and greys and you grew to appreciate the routine that settled into your lives. Spending most of the days separately made the first weeks of marriage much more bearable. It gave you and him enough time to get used to the new situation and cool off after many fights you had. But that was about to change and you were meaning to tell him today, sweetening the deal with mochi.
Oh right, mochi!
It got you a little too excited for Satoru to ignore, you looked a little brighter than usually, nervous even and he found it concerningly amusing. You’re rarely happy to see him back, he’s more used to see you ignore him than to greet him, and even if so – you’d usually pass him with a hi or an attempt of a small talk that he hated. Gojo couldn’t tell what was it that made you so much more vibrant that evening, you looked thrilled, your eyes glimmered in the dim lights of the house. You almost looked… happy? To see him? No, that couldn’t be it.
“Did something happen today? You look oddly excited,” he spoke, following his usual routine of taking off his uniform jacket and putting it neatly on a hanger in the hallway, folding his blindfold in half to have it ready in the morning and washing his hands and face. The soft, dry towel soaked up the excess wetness from his skin as he patted it away, pointing his ocean-blue eyes toward you expectantly.
“Well, yes, kind of,” you replied and dropped onto the soft cushions of the sofa in the living room. You twisted your body slightly and looked at him, and he got the hint because few seconds later, he sat down next to you. “Two things. First, I got an offer to work as a teacher in your school. Yaga contacted me–“
“You are the new teacher for the second years?” Satoru cut you and you couldn’t read him. A slight surprise was all you could decipher from the expression of his features.
“Yes. Well, not yet,” you sighed, “before I agree I wanted to ask you what you think.”
“And you’ll do as I say? Since when you’re doing as you’re told?” He teased and for a moment you considered eating all the mochi yourself. Maybe tying him to the chair and devouring it right in front of his eyes? You opened your mouth to say something rather unpleasant before he spoke again. “If you’re asking me for permission, we both know you don’t need it. I’m sure kids will benefit from having you to lead them.”
“Are you willing to be civil with me if we spend more time along each other during the day? Last thing I need is to argue with you more than we already do.”
“We don’t argue that much lately,” he protested and you huffed out a chuckle, nodding in agreement. You didn’t fight at all, if you think about it. It seemed as if slowly you were getting used to… everything.
“So, you’re fine with the idea?”
“I’m fine with the idea, yes,” he said, running a hand through his white, slightly damp hair and brushing it back. You took in his features, allowing yourself to just stare at the man you married, because even if wedded, you see him no more than his students are. He still sleeps on the couch; he still spends most of his time outside. “You’re staring.”
“Why would I–“
“I am,” you confirmed, shamelessly and it made him chuckle. “Talking about staring, close your eyes.”
“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” you ordered, getting up from the comfortable seat you were sunken into. “Please?”
“I’m honestly concerned,” he said but reluctantly lowered his eyelids. As if it made him any less aware of his surroundings. “What are you planning?”
“Don’t peek.”
Quickly, you padded into the kitchen and uncovered the mochi you kept out of the fridge for about ten minutes now. You took the tray and a glass of water and got back to where Satoru was situated. With his eyes closed, comfortable against the cushions. He felt your weight sinking onto the pillows next to him and a hint of something sweet in the air.
“Open up,” your voice made him hum, still uncertain but curious nonetheless. ‘Open up’ was such a foreign command for him to follow and the small amount of trust that was secure between you and him had to suffice for him to comply. “There we go,” you almost whispered and Satoru slightly flinched at the first contact of his mouth with, what felt like, a blob of cold unknown substance. For a reason he couldn’t really rationalize, he grabbed onto your waist to balance himself, even if there was nothing to throw him off.
Slowly, with caution, Gojo closed his mouth, allowing his teeth to meet the dough, go through it. Mochi. He recognized the sweet taste of his very favorite treat immediately but something about what was just melting against his tongue felt different to what he’s used to. The rice envelope was softer but chewy, sweetened just perfectly and the paste inside — green bean — had a texture of silk and butter, a luscious heaven itself. He felt it spreading along his taste buds, warming against the insides of his cheeks. A perfect mixture of fluffy inside and glutinous outside. So sweet, so delicious.
“Oh my god,” he whimpered. A sound so foreign, that it almost surprised you if not for the very vibrant wash of pleasure that relaxed his features. Just as the mochi melted in his mouth, he melted against the couch.
“Was it good?” You asked, while the answer was relatively clear from what you had a chance to witness. “I made them for you and they are not perfect yet but–“
“You made this mochi for me?”
Satoru’s bright blue eyes snapped open and his grip on your waist tightened. A shock pushed to the front of his expression, he blinked — once, twice — before you nodded slowly. Then he followed the direction of your gaze; his own landing on the tray full neat rows of plump rice balls, so perfectly imperfect against the dark wood below them. He could tell some had a green undertone, the edamame filling, and some were looking white and plain. Next row seemed to have chocolate inside and he could catch the hint of it in the air.
“You made all of this? With your hands?”
“From scratch, yeah,” you nodded, reaching for another one. “Chocolate.”
Being fed by you — his wife — felt odd, unfamiliar, and yet the subtle brush of your fingers against his lips whenever you gently pushed the doughy ball into his open mouth felt just right. Satoru thought he could get used to it, and the mochi.
“So you’re not only a good cook,” you’re not, but you hummed. “But also you can make mochi? If we weren’t already married, I would have asked you to marry me now.”
“That easy, huh?”
“That easy.”
You shook your head, visibly suppressing a giggle and Gojo hoped you wouldn’t hold it. It’s only now that he’s learning how pretty is your smile, how your eyes crinkle every time you allow your face to relax and take on a pattern of joy. He likes the shape your lips form, how they stretch whenever you’re happy and how your brows lift up just slightly above your half-closed lids. He wished you’d let yourself burst out laughing, but instead you shook your head yet again and let out a sigh of content. Good enough.
You reached onto the tray again. This time it was the white blob of doughy goodness hanging heavy between your dainty fingers. “This one is my favorite.”
There was no need to tell him twice. Satoru opened his mouth, eager for the sweetness you called your favorite although from your words he had a suspicion what was inside. Strawberries. You love strawberries. He learned that during the wedding celebration, when you eyed the fruit on his piece of the cake with the most adorable envy he’s ever seen – and then, those very same eyes glittered with pleasure when he exchanged his plate with yours. He remembers how you left the red, plump strawberry for the last bite, how you sighed with content as you bit into the juicy flesh of the fruit, how you nearly purred despite the stressful predicament you were placed into.
“Divine,” Gojo purred himself, as the flavors mixed in his mouth. The crisp, fresh strawberry, along the velvety cream and chewy dough made for an experience he could only compare to orgasm.
He wanted more.
Craved more and he blames it on you that the moment you sunk your teeth into the sweet treat, he leaned closer. His mind went blank when he wrapped his own mouth around the half mochi that sticked out, his lips brushed against yours. A drop of red juice run down his chin, wet and sticky against his skin. He didn’t care. Greedy for more, for you, he leaned in even more, tempted by the sweet taste of your sugar-powdered lips flush to his own.
You gasped. Purred. In surprise, in pleasure, or both.
The feeling unfamiliar, addicting, syrupy.
You should stop it.
You wanted more.
He should stop it.
He wanted more.
It was slow, sloppy and nothing but strawberry and cream.
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The Bolter (part five)
Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)
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synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : In present day, the reader and Bucky get closer - will one of them finally slip up? We also see what happened in 2018, during the battle in Wakanda.
themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Bucky dealing with ptsd, brief mention of violence, language
word count : <2k
masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter
📝 a little bit of an explanation on the timeline : 2016 - Civil War ▪︎ 2017 - post Civil War / Steve and reader on the run ▪︎ early 2018 - Infinity War ▪︎ 2018 to 2023 - the lost years / post-snap ▪︎ late 2023 - Endgame / Steve's departure ▪︎ 2024 - present day / Falcon and the Winter Soldier period ▪︎ 1950s - where Steve went back
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
You win. Again.
By now, you're convinced Bucky is actually letting you win in Battleship. Each guess he made had been wrong, so it must be deliberate.
"James Buchanan Barnes," you sigh.
His lips form a sly smirk. He isn't even trying to deny it.
You reach across and lightly shove his non-vibranium arm. "It's no fun if there's no challenge."
He shrugs, "Maybe I like the way you react when you win. You get so... expressive." Another smirk. Damn him.
What could possibly be so amusing about the way you practically screeched and stuck your tongue at him the first time you won?
"Yeah, but you let me win four times in a row."
"Deal with it, doll."
"You suck."
He grimaces, "Suck?"
Right. You keep forgetting he is an very old, very ancient centenarian.
"It's an expression."
Something flashes across his face, and you can't really make out what it is. "Do you suck, too?"
"What?" you exclaim. "I just said it's an expression. It means you're annoying."
He holds your gaze for a moment, before laughing, eyes visibly crinkling at the corners. "I'm messing with you, doll. I know what that means. I'm old, not unaware."
Damn him again.
And damn the way the rare instances of his laughter is slowly growing to be a thing you yearn for. Bucky has a playful side, you've come to realize. You get this feeling of lightness, because you're proud of him. The more it comes out, the more it shows how much he has healed.
You blink at him, shaking your head, before bursting into laughter yourself.
Damn it all to hell.
It takes a beat for you to collect yourselves.
Then for a second, it's there. That fleeting shift in his expression. A pinch in his eyebrows giving way to a look of shame. Just for a moment, his mind drifts back to the long list of names in his notebook. To Yori's son. To the crimson in his ledger.
You notice, and you don't hesitate in taking his hand, squeezing gently. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "I'm glad we get to do this."
I'm glad I have you.
Glancing down at your hand wrapped around his, he smiles, slowly, like a sun rising and casting its glow over the horizon.
"Let's play one more time," Bucky says as he begins rearranging the pieces on his side.
You were about to protest, but then he adds, "I won't let you win, I swear."
Fifteen minutes later, you do indeed win again. He laughs at the incredulous expression that must be plastered on your face.
You take it. Because maybe you did win, fair and square.
Or maybe because his laughter feels like winning.
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The days have blurred into weeks and into months.
It feels like time is passing quickly, every second feels less and less like the lash of a whip, reminding Bucky of past pains. Of loss. Of all his sins.
Life almost feels normal. The kind of normal he is afforded in his life, at least.
Sessions with his court-mandated therapist. You. Dinners with Yori, desperately unable to tell him the truth. You. Sleepless nights, glimpses of his darkness haunting him. You. Sleepless nights, tempting images of you.
Behind all the laughter and the times you would spend playing Battleship on the floor of his barely furnished apartment, Bucky gets a sense of something gnawing at him. Something not unfamiliar, but unwelcome all the while.
It's fear. He has something to lose, once more. A friend or a kindred spirit. Whatever else you will find in each other. It's there and it's real, and it makes him feel like Bucky again.
He doesn't want to lose it, whatever it is. He's already lost Steve.
He's not going to lose you too.
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early 2018, Infinity War
After you and Steve left the cabin, it's like the universe was sent a go-ahead signal of some sort.
The world slowly descended into chaos, and the Avengers were needed back into the fold.
Your group had to rush to Scotland to rescue Wanda and Vision. Then it was back to the Avengers compound.
"You think all is forgiven?" Senator Ross asked, the threat evident in his tone. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Romanoff has been leading my team on some wild goose chase - "
Natasha merely scoffs, unamused.
" - and Huntress has been actively aiding and abetting her fellow fugitives around the globe."
You were about to say something snarky, but Steve had already taken a step forward, partially shielding you from Ross' view.
"We're not looking for forgiveness, and we're way past asking permission," Steve declared.
In that time, life became drastically different from your days in Alaska. You barely had a moment of repose, worried about the fate of the world.
But you found comfort in the blonde super soldier who was constantly hovering over you. His eyes would meet yours before a decision would be made. His hand sometimes pressed at the small of your back as you walked beside him. Time and again, you found him watching you, a silent question in his eyes. You'd nod back, I'm okay.
You didn't notice, but in one of those moments, Wanda had witnessed the exchange.
And she felt it. That something. Much like what she has with Vision.
But it just wasn't the right time.
It is a bit hard to face the truth that you might be in love when the whole world is burning.
"I guess this is our normal, after all," you wistfully remarked to him one evening, after everyone else had left. The plans were laid. You all were to go to Wakanda the next day.
Steve felt a sense of bitterness arising from him upon hearing your words. It really isn't fair. He has always done everything right, but he's losing count of how many joys he's had to sacrifice.
He lost everyone once. His mom, his sister, Bucky, his fellow soldiers, Dr. Erskine, Peggy. He'd buried himself in ice, only to wake up again in a world that wasn't his anymore.
What else does he have to lose, who else, before he is finally allowed to be happy?
His smile was pained when he replied, "I think I figured out the kind of normal I want."
Despite your exhaustion, you smiled back and curiously asked, "Oh yeah?"
Steve hopelessly tried to commit you to memory. The lilt in your voice, the shape of your lips. That undying spark in your eyes, which remained even when everything was cast in gloom.
Just in case he would wake up one day and find his whole world taken from him once more.
"Yeah," he finally said.
The world is ablaze, but he's grown used to it. He knew he would lay his life down on the line again if that means it would be saved.
But everything be damned, he allowed himself one selfish thought when he confessed, "We never should have left that cabin."
I'm in love with you, were the words caught in his throat. His heart screamed it, yearning to be heard.
And you did.
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It was a cruel twist of fate. But Thanos deemed it destiny.
Was it always meant to happen? Were they always meant to lose?
Steve didn't know how long he stayed on the ground next to the pile of ashes that used to be his best friend.
Bucky was gone.
Steve barely heard the screams. Anguished voices calling out the names of their friends, still searching.
All that would have been unbearable. The sounds of distress enough to drive one mad. But Steve heard nothing. He had nothing.
It's not fair. Inside, he felt like that sickly kid who was always dealt the worst hand. It does feel like he's a kid again, petulant and angry. It's not fair, he thought over and over, I don't deserve this.
Bring Bucky back to me.
Maybe it was all his fault. Maybe if he never took that damned serum... maybe... maybe...
"Cap," he heard someone break him out of his haze. Rhodey stood to the side. "Steve," he repeated, pleading, but Steve still could not find the strength to get up.
Then from the distance, he heard Natasha calling out for you. He stumbled to his feet, his head spinning. Casting one last glance at the spot where Bucky vanished, he turned and started running.
He found Natasha immediately, but not you.
"Where is she?" Steve growled, and his voice sounded rougher than he's ever heard before. Natasha would have recoiled in surprise, if she didn't possess nerves of steel.
"I'm looking," Natasha snapped impatiently. You would have been her loss too.
Steve felt as if he had already scoured through the whole field twice, his body threatening to just give in and crumble to the ground once more, as the hope of finding you dimmed.
Then he heard your faint voice, weak and weary, standing out among all the others.
"Steve?" There you stood, your face half-covered in dried blood and soot. "Did we lose?"
He swiveled around and took you in, a deep breath of helpless relief exiting his lungs. He was angry and defeated.
He wanted to throw Captain America to the wind, and surrender everything.
He wanted to hear his mother's voice singing to him again. This world is cruel, and he wanted to go back home.
But there you were.
There you were, and Steve knew he had not lost everything.
"How did it happen?" you asked as he approached. "Steve, what do we do? There must be something - "
His mouth crashes into yours with such bruising intensity that it makes you stumble backward, but his arms were quick to catch you.
He was right.
You never should have left that cabin.
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
The nightmare is different.
It's worse. Much worse.
Bucky bolts upright on the floor of his living room, having chosen to bypass the comfort of his bedroom. He thinks this is because he needs to keep his TV on in the background, something to muffle the noise in his mind late at night.
Another reason, one he hasn't confronted yet, is how comfort feels so foreign. It feels wrong, like he doesn't deserve it.
Perhaps that is why he can't find comfort even in his dreams.
It flashes before his eyes, like a broken montage.
It's almost the same every time. He's the Winter Soldier. He's on a mission. There are faces swarming around him, bodies either racing to attack or running away. But he doesn't see any of them. He doesn't feel anything as he makes every single one of them crumble.
But it's different this time. The Winter Soldier does not so much as falter or show any hesitation as he wraps his metal fingers around your windpipe.
The Winter Soldier coldly watches as you expire. Bucky helplessly watches, unable to stop as he loses everything.
Thankfully awake, in this world where he still has you, Bucky's chest feels like it's about to implode.
So much for being a superabled freak.
The clock reads 3:13. It's late, but he needs some air.
He walks for 10 minutes, aimlessly. Then for 20 more, his mind having made a decision on its own. He soon finds himself standing in front of a familiar brownstone building, where your apartment is situated on the top floor.
You don't seem confused when you answer the buzzer. It wouldn't be the first time he has shown up unannounced.
"Can't sleep either?" You're a welcome vision when you greet him at the door, cheeks flushed by the white wine you usually drink at these hours.
She's still here, Bucky reminds himself. The only comfort that he won't deny.
Instead of walking past you, straight into your apartment like he always does, he takes one step closer.
And then another.
He shuts the door behind him.
You watch him carefully, scanning his every movement. There's something here, something different. He takes another step and he has you pressed against the wall.
His eyes betray the storm of emotion brewing inside. He has to remind himself that you're here, and he has you.
"Bucky," you whisper, and it's all he needs.
He leans in and finally touches his lips to yours.
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My emotions!!!!!! Hahahaha this chapter is a whole mess and so are our protagonists 🔪🫀
yes yes, expect that the next one is 18+ --- but I still won't say exactly with who --- maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's neither of them? Oh well, honestly some of you have got it bang on already 🤷🏻‍♀️
As always, I am keen to hear what you guys think!!
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Hi, would you write about a self conscious reader who is going through a crisis with accepting herself and reveals that to jason todd in an emotional state like the dramatic “i hate myself” thing. Kinda having a moment like that myself and i need to read something that i can identify with
Your door was shut when Jason got there. He could feel the emotional angst leaking through the door. It slid over him like ooze. Over his skin and down his throat.
But he forced himself to breathe. Like last night. If he focused, he could find the edges of what he was feeling and push your influence back. You weren't focused on him.
He exhaled slowly and knocked, waiting. "Y/N? It's Jason" No one was in the hall but somehow it felt like everyone was in the hall. The trouble with living in a house of nosey bitches.
A solenoid disengaged and he pushed the handle. Letting himself inside, leaving the door cracked. Mostly so you didn't feel trapped.
As soon as he stepped into the room, the atmosphere was crushing. Oppressive. A sensation of being cold and humid. Self hatred, grief, and shame. And he can feel you trying desperately to pull those feelings under the surface. Wrestle them into submission.
Sweat prickling on your forehead from the effort.
"You should probably go," you manage.
Jason winces and takes a deep breath, forcing himself into a state of calm. Remembering how he deals with scared little kids and abuse victims. "What can I do?" he asked softly, moving closer. Below you, out your window you're watching everyone else. In the sun and playing outside. Shaking off the night-terrors you'd given them and the stress of patrol with water guns and slips and slides- a home made water park around the pool. Christ. It's no wonder you hate yourself.
"I'm fine. I just. I just-" Your voice is rough with unshed tears and when you break off, resting your head against the glass, Jason smiles a little.
"Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional," he chuckled. "We've all been there. You're just a little more obvious about it."
You make a soft miserable noise and he shakes his head, "No one wants you to stay away, "he murmured, changing tack. "Bruce gives us nightmares all the time. Ask Dick about his party hard days some time. His nudes got "leaked" once as a distraction when I was a kid and all the girls had them. It was gross."
When you huff a soft laugh, he nods towards your book shelf, "Not a lot of heavy lifting going on there," he teased, referencing the romances and young adult novels- a fair number of children's classics he noticed.
"I like happy endings," you murmur. "I don't- I just get overwhelmed. I get tired of being a monster."
Jason nodded. He didn't want to tease you for your books anymore. "You're not a monster, Y/N," he whispered. He'd spent a lot of time watching you. You offered kindness in a hundred different ways. Doing little things to help Alfred. Taking odd shifts for Barbara. Refilling Tim's water. Stocking gear. Taking time to just chill with Cass... he'd probably missed a lot of details. But a monster wouldn't do that.
"I feel like one. All the time. I feel like I'd be better off dead. Like if they would have been too late-"
"If they would have been too late, it would have been for nothing," Jason said, wiping tears off your cheeks tenderly as he knelt to cradle your face in his hands. "Those bastards that hurt you are monsters. You were a baby."
You don't meet his eyes but he can feel pain. A deep fissure that never healed. Like a wound that needed packed and never got it. Rotting and festering this whole time. Inflamed and ready to send you recoiling at the lightest touch. "Got a favorite happy ending?" he asked. "I'll read it to you if you want-"
"Aren't you an Austen snob?"
"Please. As if I could get away without reading at least a couple of Alfred's trashy Romance novels. Some of them are charming... a couple are even pretty decent writing. As long as they don't spend too much time describing the dude's cock."
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loonylupinblack3 · 2 days
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Period Trouble
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?
Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it
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You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.
You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 
There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.
You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”
You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”
She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”
Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.
Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”
The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.
Oh how you regretted that decision now.
“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”
Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.
“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.
She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”
Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.
You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”
When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”
She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”
You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”
Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”
You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.
You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.
He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.
“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.
Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”
It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”
He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”
You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.
Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 
You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”
You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”
You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”
“I’m not-”
“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”
You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”
He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.
Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”
You scowled at him. “Says who?”
He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”
You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.
“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.
Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.
As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.
Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.
You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.
When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.
“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.
Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.
Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.
“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”
You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”
He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”
Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 
Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.
An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.
“Mrs May?” you asked.
The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”
You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.
“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?
Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 
The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”
There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.
The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”
Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.
You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.
You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”
You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”
Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”
“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”
Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”
“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”
Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”
Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”
Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”
You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”
“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”
The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.
“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.
Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”
You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.
Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.
As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”
You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.
You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.
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Text
Ruined Movie Dates ✧.*
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James Potter x Reader
Hurt/Comfort
“Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
masterlist
————————————————————————
You are currently hiding from James in the bathroom.
It’s not like you want to be hiding from James, you want to be cuddled up in his arms watching a movie right about now as you had planned yesterday, but here you are with a black eye hiding in your bathroom as you hear James letting himself into your apartment.
It really wasn’t your fault it’s not like you prompted this person to punch you, she mistaked you for the girl who slept with her girlfriend and that’s fair.
but god does it hurt like an absolute bitch.
And all you know is that James can not know about this. Your sweet, kind, lovely, caring boyfriend would flip the absolute fuck out if he saw that you had a black eye.
in a loving and concerned way of course but, how exactly are you going to hide it from him when he’s literally in your apartment right now for a movie date?
you have absolutely no idea.
“Love?”
you hear James call from the entry way
“I’m just in the bathroom i’ll be out in a sec!”
fuck.
you usually keep your makeup in a drawer under the sink but as you open it is you realize you left your foundation in your purse yesterday when you were running late to work. Now you really have to option but to kick James out and wait until your eye heals to see him again.
“Um James can you come here please?” you ask in a small voice
you hear his footsteps come from the kitchen up until the door and you open the door a crack so that he can’t see your bruised eye
“I’m really not feeling good tonight and I know it’s a little late to cancel seemingly as you’re already in my apartment but I hope you’ll understand when I ask you to please go?”
he stands there silently staring at you, evaluating you, looking right into your soul, and stealing all the thoughts from your brain.
how dare he.
“If you really are feeling unwell and want me to go, I will but I don’t mind getting sick and I would rather take care of you, if you’ll let me?”
and shit. When he talks in that sickly sweet voice it’s really fucking hard to lie to him.
“Jamie I appreciate the offer but I just really need you to go-“
as you are as politely as possible asking him to remove himself from the premises of your apartment complex he shifts his position allowing him to see just a little further into the bathroom. Just enough to see your absolutely fucked eye.
“Baby what happened?”
All the sudden his concerned look gets ten times worse. his eyebrow scrunches more and is frown deepens and he opens the door to grab your chin and examine your eye.
without the stress of trying to hide from james you can finally feel the throbbing pain in your eye and you really wish you had sneaked an ice pack before you scurried into hiding
“lovie you have to tell me what happened”
you just whine.
he lightly brushes his finger over the bruise and you wince
“sorry”
“it’s okay” you say taking a deep breath
“This girl mistaked me for the girl her girlfriends been cheating on her with but it’s not her fault because she showed me a picture and we do look exactly the same I mean I was wondering if i was secretly adopted and had a twin that I didn’t know about-“
and now youre rambling and it doesn’t seem to be soothing james’ pitying expression
“ Love why didn’t you call me immediately? I would have been there in an instant. Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
“i’m sorry I just didn’t want to make it a big deal”
“it is a big deal, you’re hurt, cmon love let’s go get an ice pack that must hurt”
and he scooped you up into his arms as if it was your legs that were hurt and carried you the couch as he grabbed an ice pack
you can’t lie, there are much worse things than being taken care of by james. much much worse.
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nicksbestie · 1 day
Text
i know it won't work - C. Sturniolo
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Summary : "part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that"
Warnings : very angsty. crying, heartbreak, yk the drill. nothing triggering though!
Word Count : 1000
Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (past romantic)
A/N : i was listening to this song in the car this morning, and boom here comes this fic idea!
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You regretted ever moving to Boston.
You hated the city, hated who it reminded you of. You couldn’t leave your house without feeling trapped in the space that you had once adored to travel with the person you had loved with your entire heart. If you had the money, you would have moved far away by now. All you could do was be so grateful that the two of you hadn’t moved in together, because you would have actually had to leave. As much as you hated that you were still here, leaving would have torn the pieces you were already in right into shreds. 
You sat in front of the empty closet in your guest room, tears rolling down your face as you processed that it would stay empty for a long time. You couldn’t bring yourself to fill it, wanting it to stay empty just on the off chance that he came back, that he needed someone, somewhere to stay, somewhere to put his things. If he needed space that he could only find in your home, you would have space for him. He could inhabit that space for as long as he wanted, as he inhabited your heart still, living in it despite how tightly it was clenching in pain, as if to squeeze him out.
You couldn’t bear the thought that he might never come back, that you really may never see him again, that you might not get to love him again like you used to. How could you bring yourself to deal with the idea that this might be it? Your number wasn’t blocked, but it seemed like he couldn’t find a way to softly tell you that there was no chance he was coming back, so he simply left all of your texts on delivered. Despite how heartbroken you were, you knew there was no way that you could go back to loving him in a non romantic way. There were two ends of the spectrum, and you knew that you would either love him endlessly, or hate him relentlessly. You hoped it never came to be the latter.
Chris knew you were still waiting on him. He knew you were hoping he would change his mind, that he would turn around and run back to him, and the breakup was killing him as well. He couldn’t lie to himself like he could to you, he had thought about going back. He had thought about claiming it was all a lapse in judgment, that he still loved you with everything in him, but he worried that he wasn’t worth all of the hope you were saving for him. He’d paced around his room so much that he had nearly worn holes in the floor, and even his brothers had begged him to fix things, but he just couldn’t do it. He really did believe that this was the best move for the both of you, but he couldn’t deny the doubt creeping into the back of his mind. After all, it had been a long relationship, one spanning just over five years. How could he just let that go?
You’d run into each other in a store, and you’d both seen your face on the other person’s. The dark under eye circles, the bloodshot eyes, the signs of sadness sinking into your bones. Neither of you could speak to the other one, simply staring before Chris broke the eye contact, walking away. It killed you to look into his eyes knowing that he clearly didn’t want you back, an opinion so different from how you felt. You didn’t know that he did want you back, desperately, but was trying to make it easier for you by cutting things off. He wished that you would find someone else, that you’d put yourself out there, because seeing you with someone else might help him snap back into reality, help him get over it as well. 
He was torn. He knew you were still holding on to him, and part of him wanted you to let go, wanted you to move on, to love someone who wasn’t him, but the other part of him wanted to shrivel up and die at just the thought of your arms around anyone who wasn’t him, your lips on anyone else’s skin. But it would make it easier for him to realize that you really weren’t his anymore, and maybe that was just what he needed. Maybe. He had broken up with you in person, knowing that he owed you at least that, but the call to you to ask when he could come pick up his things from your place had been one of the hardest calls you’d ever received. The ghost of your relationship being inside your apartment had made the entire building feel haunted.
He knew he was being an idiot, but he wanted to think that his heart was in the right place. Both of his brothers knew he was being an idiot, to the point that Nick showed up to talk to you, and Matt was talking to Chris, desperately trying to fix things between the two of you. The conversation between you and Nick just ended up with you sobbing in his arms, him trying to convince you that it would be okay, that Chris loved you, that he would realize and he would come back. The one between Matt and Chris wasn’t going much better, Chris having angry tears streaming down his face, trying to convince Matt and himself that it was for the best.
“It isn’t going to work.” 
“Make it work.” 
You were in Nick’s arms, silent, enjoying the comfort but hating why you needed it, when your phone dinged from behind you. Nick picked it up, checking who it was before nudging you.
“Here. You want to read this.” 
Chris <3 : I know I tried to cut all ties but you’ve never left my mind. Can we make this work?
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itsgrimeytime · 2 days
Text
feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader
rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?
TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.
[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]
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With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.
Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-
Another one.
It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.
What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-
"Hey!"
You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.
"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.
Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.
"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.
"That was cool as shit!"
You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"
"Glenn!" He clarified.
Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"
"Nice to meet you!"
You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.
"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.
"Yeah?"
You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"
Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.
You froze, licking across your teeth.
And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-
He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.
"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"
"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"
None of them even flinched.
"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"
And then, a voice called out into the tense air.
"Y/N?"
You peeked over heads, looking, because-
Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"
You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)
Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.
"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"
With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"
"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.
"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.
You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."
Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.
"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."
She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"
Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)
She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.
And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"
"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.
You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.
And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.
"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.
"Whose askin'?"
That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.
Your voice got stuck in your throat.
He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.
Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.
"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."
Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.
Oh well, maybe next time.
"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."
Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-
You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.
You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.
"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."
There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.
Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"
I'd like to be loaded with-
"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."
He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."
I bet your-
You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"
Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."
That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.
You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.
"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.
Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."
You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."
"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.
"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."
Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."
"Shit," your smile fell.
"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.
"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.
"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.
Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."
"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."
She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."
"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."
"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.
"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."
He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.
Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."
Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.
You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"
Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."
"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"
She hummed, "I do."
"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."
Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?
"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."
"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"
"How did you-"
"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."
She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"
"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.
"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.
"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"
Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."
"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."
She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.
Time to get to work.
Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.
"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."
"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.
"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."
Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."
"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"
Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.
"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.
Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"
"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."
"An' ya want me to help decide?"
"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."
Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."
You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-
"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."
He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-
"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."
Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."
You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.
"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"
"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.
"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."
He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."
"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."
"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.
"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."
"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.
"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."
He grinned a little at you.
"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."
"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.
You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"
"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."
You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.
"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."
Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.
Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."
You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."
"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"
Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.
"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"
They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.
"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."
You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.
You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.
Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.
Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.
On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.
Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.
Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.
When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.
"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.
She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.
"Please, tell me-"
"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."
She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"
You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).
"Seriously?" She asked.
"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"
She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?
"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"
"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"
Huh.
"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."
Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"
"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.
He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.
"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.
You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."
He smiled a little, laughing.
Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.
He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"
"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."
Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"
"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."
"Ya got him somethin' too?"
He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.
You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.
"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"
"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."
On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.
"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"
"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."
You held it in your hands, showing to him.
"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."
Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.
You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.
There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.
You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.
"Ya awake?"
You didn't say a word.
"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."
"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."
There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.
"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.
You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"
"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."
You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"
"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.
"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."
Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.
Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."
He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.
You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.
"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"
You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.
"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."
Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.
You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)
"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).
You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"
Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."
You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.
With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.
You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-
Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.
"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"
"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.
Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.
You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.
Rick laughed.
"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."
He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.
"You want music or a movie?"
"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.
"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"
Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.
Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."
He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-
"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.
"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-
"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.
You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."
Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.
You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.
"I don't," you hummed.
"What?"
"I don't bite."
He laughed a little, "Good."
"Unless you want me to-"
And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.
You'd never really know.
Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.
You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.
"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.
"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."
"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"
"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.
"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"
She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."
"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"
Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."
"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"
"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.
Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.
You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.
"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).
"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."
"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"
"You are so-"
Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.
You turned to look who, and-
Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.
"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.
"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.
You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.
Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"
Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."
"How did I never think of that?"
"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.
You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."
She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."
"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.
Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.
"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"
"I ain't playing it with ya."
"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."
"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."
"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.
"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.
"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."
"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"
"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.
"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"
"What are the two of ya doin'?"
You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.
"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."
Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.
"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."
You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"
Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.
"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"
"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.
You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-
"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."
Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"
"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.
"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."
He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"
You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.
"Nope," Daryl answered.
And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."
Marry?
Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-
"Thought so," Daryl responded.
And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.
"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"
"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."
Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.
You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.
"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"
You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."
Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."
"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."
"And that's bad?"
"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."
"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.
"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."
"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"
"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.
"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."
You hummed, wordlessly.
"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"
She had a point.
"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"
You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"
She turned to you.
"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"
It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.
You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-
And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.
You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.
"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."
You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.
"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."
"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"
Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.
"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."
"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"
"I walked," you answered simply.
"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"
You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.
"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.
Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.
"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."
She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"
"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"
You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.
"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."
"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"
"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."
He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"
You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."
"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"
"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.
Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.
"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."
You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"
"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."
"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."
Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.
You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.
God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-
"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."
"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."
"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."
"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."
Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-
You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.
"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."
He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.
"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.
You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.
"Got so much to say to ya."
And then, it all faded to black.
This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?
And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-
"Y/N? Darlin'?"
You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?
"'S too fucking bright in here."
You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.
"'D turn it down for ya if I could."
You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.
Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.
Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.
You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"
"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.
"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"
"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."
"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"
"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."
You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."
Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.
"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.
You froze, "Since the prison?"
"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."
"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"
"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."
You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.
"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.
And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.
"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."
You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.
"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."
"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.
"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."
"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.
"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."
You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.
"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."
"The fond thing?"
"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."
"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"
"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."
"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."
"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"
And then you looked at him.
"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"
"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"
His face got a little more serious.
"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."
You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"
"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."
You just stared.
"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"
You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.
"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."
"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."
"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."
"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"
"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."
You fell quiet.
"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."
"Anything?"
Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."
"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.
He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."
You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.
"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"
"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."
"Ya would," he agreed.
And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.
Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"
He smiled at you.
"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."
"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.
"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."
You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"
"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."
You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.
"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."
You stared at him, wordless.
Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"
"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"
"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."
All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?
"'Thought you said it was obvious?"
"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."
You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"
He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."
"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."
Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"
"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."
"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"
"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.
"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.
"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."
Mission accomplished.
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sl0t4matt · 3 days
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could you do a fic w hector fort where him and the reader get a matching tattoo please? like something little or whatever you want hehe
h. fort | girl with the tattoo
thank you sm for requesting, i love this request! i only know very few things from friends abt tattoos so i hope i got everything right.
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“hi baby how was training?” you ask hector as he slumps down the couch next to you, immediately snuggling up on you.
“it was fine. i would’ve rather stayed with you though.” he admits, laying his head on top of your lap.
you move your hands to his curls playing with them. you absolutely loved playing with his hair, since it was always perfectly curled and done. “don’t let xavi hear that.” you chuckle.
he starts grinning a little too suspicious.
“oh god, what have you done again you idiot.” with that look he must’ve done something, you thought. he smirks. “what do you mean?”
“do not play with me right now, hector. tell me!” you roll your eyes at his annoyingness.
“you know i love when you’re demanding, ma.” he winks liking his lips. you stand up not being able to deal with him right now. he knows exactly how impatient you are. he just loves pushing your buttons.
he won’t tell you. fine! he takes ahold of your wrist, immediately pulling you back.
“okay, okay i’ll tell you.” you sigh sitting back down. he smiles. “hector i swear-.”
“chill, i’m sure you’re gonna like it.” he interrupts you quickly. you furrow at him. what the hell could he mean? “okay so i got an appointment at the tattoo studio.”
“nice. what are you gonna get?” he smirks. “you mean what are we gonna get.”
“what?!” you’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but because of your school schedule you never got to doing it . you honestly also kept forgetting tbh but obviously hector didn’t.
“well i wanted to get your eyes tatted because you know how much i love them, but then i thought ‘oh y/n always wanted to get a tattoo’ so i thought why not just take you with me and we’ll get a matching one.” this boy is something else.
you grin so hard, it hurts. hector has always been affectionate moments like these remind you how much he truly is your soulmate. you jump on top of him shooting him with kisses. “i literally love you, you know that right.” he nods, laughing. “i love you too.”
“when is the appointment?” you ask. “7pm.” he shrugs. “are you serious! i don’t even know what we’re gonna get!!” you sigh, shaking your head at how your boyfriend can be so slow at times.
“we’ll get angel numbers of course. you’re a big astro girl.” hector says, referring to the time you first met him. (your first question being what his star sign is.) “wait, that’s actually a good idea.” he smiles smugly. “i know.”
“is it gonna hurt?” you ask hector as you enter the studio. “you don’t want me to be honest, ma.” you sigh. hector takes your hand. “i’ll go first if you want.” he says. you nod. you never had a big fear of needles. you yourself having a belly button piercing but a tattoo is different the pain is there for a while whereas when you get pierced it’s more like a poke.
you get in walking to the woman behind the counter.
“hi, we got an appointment for 7pm.” i smile at her. “of course. come with me.” she smiles back, bringing the both of you to the guy that does hector’s tattoos.
a bigger man with a beard greets us which you assume is the tattoo artist. he doesn’t quiet look scary though rather like a big teddy bear with lots of tattoos.
“the girl who’s eyes you’re getting tatted on?” he grins at hector. “yeah.” he smiles turning to look at you. hector isn’t very social with people he isn’t extremely close with, so he tries to keep his conversation as short as possible. you think it’s quiet ironic since you never seem to shut up, no matter who you’re talking to. they say opposites attract though!
he pulls out a picture handing it to him. the man nods, giving you a quick smile then takes his stuff out.
you follow hector as he sits down on a chair, extending his arm. he shows the guy where he wants it and how big it should be. the man doesn’t waste time and directly goes on tattooing him.
you sit beside him, squeezing his other hand, you being more scared of the pain he must be going through than hector himself is.
“you’re fine.” you stroke his hand, looking at him seriously concerned. “stop it you’re gonna make me laugh.” he mumbles. he’s so unserious.
it must not bother him much since he grimaces and curses on a few spots but keeps cool most of the time.
after him also getting the angel number tatto that is supposed to match with you, it’s finally your turn.
you’re pretty sure you’re gonna piss your pants as you wait in the room alone with hector because you’re so nervous. you don’t know how you’re gonna live to see see the next day after this. “you’ll be fine. it’s bad at first but you’ll get used to it. also i’m here for you, ma.” he tries cheering you up. “fucking hell.” you mutter. you’re probably going to experience the worst pain in your life here.
“are you ready?” the guy asks. with nodding your head, you go to sit on the same place hector sat when he got the tattoo.
you grip hector’s hand tightly, breaking it almost.
hector kisses the side of your face, whispering sweet words in your ear, trying to distract you from the needle that currently goes in and out of you.
“fuck.” you mutter through gritted teeth. “you’re doing so good, baby.” hector whispers. you bite your lip so hard you start tasting blood. “you wanna take a break?” the tattooer you now know as chris says. you shake your head, wanting it to end as soon as possible.
hector hates to see you like this: in pain. he hopes for it to end as soon as possible, the only thing he’s been wanting to do while you got tattooed being showering you with loving kisses, but he didn’t for the sake of chris since he’s sure he wouldn’t want to see a whole teen kissing session.
“it hurts so bad, hector.” you cry out. he moves stands of hair out of your face then cupping your face gently. “i know, baby but you got this.” he nods. the thing is you weren’t even being dramatic for once. this had the be the most hurting feeling you’ve ever experienced.
“we’re done!” chris pats your arm after he was done. your eyes meet with hectors, smiling lightly. you definitely knew you’re going to thank him at home for how he was there for you in this entire process.
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scoonsalicious · 1 day
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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 8
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, voyerism, coercive sex, manipulation, Pocket reaching her Ultimate Bitch Form.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Carthage has been spying on you and manipulating both you and Bucky from Day One.
A/N: THE FIRST TIME DIDN'T COUNT, GUYS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
“She was just toying with you, Jamie, because she could. She doesn’t respect you. Do you honestly think she would pick you over Steve Rogers? Captain Fucking America? Especially with all the pain you’ve caused? The lives you’ve ended? Come on, Jamie, don’t be dumb.” Video Jade caressed Bucky’s shoulders.
Bucky’s face fell, and you knew she’d hit him where it hurt him the most.
Jade sat back on her haunches on the mattress. “Don’t be stupid, Jamie,” she reiterated. “Do you really think she’d want someone like you, who can’t even control their cock in a fight, when she could have America’s Golden Dick? I bet they laugh at you, how easy it is for them to get away with it, right under your nose. You think it’s just a coincidence that, as soon as you're out of the country, she’s seen by all of New York’s elite getting cozy with your best friend? The one person you asked her to stay away from? She was just waiting for you to get out of the picture so she can show her real boyfriend off to the public.”
You watched as Bucky’s entire body clenched, his face tightening in anger. “You said you wanted to get back at her,” Jade urged, putting her hands back on Bucky’s body. “To punish her for what she did. So punish her, Jamie. Use me. Use me to make her hurt the way she made you hurt. Don’t let her play you for a fool.” You saw Bucky struggle, at war with himself, but you could see the anger pulse through him, and you knew that, with this snake whispering in his ear, there was no way he could have come to any other conclusion than that you had betrayed him. You almost felt sorry for him– he didn’t have a chance.
“Come on,” she said, leaning Bucky back so he was lying propped up on the pillows. “You won’t even need to do anything. Let me take care of you, okay? Let Vixen make you feel good.” Bucky scrunched his eyes closed, putting his hands over his face. It was painfully clear he wasn’t an enthusiastic participant, but it still hurt knowing that he had been so angry at you for something you hadn’t done that he was willing to do this.
“We just have to get Little Jamie to come out to play,” Jade teased as she straddled him. Your view was obstructed by her body, but you had no doubt that she was jerking him off in an attempt to get him hard. 
It just… seemed to be taking a really long time. 
“Come on Jamie,” Jade said after a few minutes. “You gotta help me out here. Give me a little something to work with.”
It seemed to finally work after a while, and Jade re-positioned herself as she lined Bucky up with her entrance. You couldn’t watch anymore, so you shut your eyes. It didn’t stop you from hearing the horrible sounds of her moaning as she bounced up and down on his cock, though.
You thought you were going to be sick, but then you heard it, so soft that if you had your eyes open, your senses diluted, you would have missed it. “Pocket,” Bucky moaned. “Fuck, Pocket. Keep going, baby. I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so sorry. I love you so fucking much.”
His moans grew louder. “Pocket,” he cried, “God, baby, I miss you so fucking much!”
You started laughing. It was the fucking weirdest, most uncomfortable position you’d ever found yourself in in your entire life, but you couldn’t help yourself. 
“Oh my god,” you panted, trying to catch your breath as Jade looked down on you in confusion. “That’s the most pathetic thing I have ever seen!”
Jade wrapped a hand roughly around your throat and squeezed threateningly, cutting off your laughter. “What did you say?” she seethed.
You coughed when she’d released your neck and you could breathe again. A few drops of your blood had fallen from your nose to rest on Jade’s wrist. “I said, that’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” You jutted your chin toward the phone she still held. “You think that’s proof that he wants you? Oh, honey. You truly are a stupid cunt, aren’t you? He couldn’t even get hard for you without thinking about me. You were a convenient fleshlight– just a hole when I wasn’t available.”
You would have felt monstrous speaking to any other woman like that, truly, but you had to do everything in your power to keep her distracted, to keep her from moving forward with her plan to auction you off to the highest bidder, so that you could buy some time for the calvary to arrive. And besides, Carthage wasn’t just another woman– she was your fucking nemesis, and she deserved every foul word you could throw at her. 
God, you hoped Tony showed up first. The image of him sending Jade through the wall with a repulsor blast was enough to send you into fits of giddy laughter. Then maybe Bruce could toss her around like a ragdoll, the way he had with Loki. You’d pay to see that. You wondered if Carthage had headbutted you hard enough to cause a concussion– you certainly weren’t feeling fully in your right mind.
Jade backhanded you, the force of the blow so hard that your head snapped to the side, leaving you seeing stars. “You’re LYING!” she shouted. Grabbing you by the hair, she hoisted you up, metal chair and all, and slammed your face into the nearest wall. Perhaps she’d rattled a screw loose, because you couldn’t seem to get your laughter under control. “Don’t damage the merchandise, Vixey,” you coughed, spitting out even more blood. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances at auction, would you? Bad for business.”
“You fucking bitch!” Jade shouted. She ripped your bindings free from the chair and lifted you up by the throat. “Fuck–” she punched you in the stomach– “the auction!” In the face. “I’m gonna–” In the solar plexus– “fucking kill you–” back to the face– “myself!” Each blow was excruciating, and you were sure you’d heard a rib or two crack under the force of her fist, but still, you kept laughing at her. 
“Poor little fox,” you wheezed through the blood that was pouring down the back of your throat. “All those years wasted, thinking you could ever have a chance with him.” Your head lolled to the side as you tried to look up at her through your rapidly swelling eyelids. “Thinking you were special, that you were made for him, and you can’t even get his dick up. He’s so repulsed by you, he has to imagine being with someone else!”
“Shut up!” Jade screeched. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” She grabbed your left arm in her hands and snapped it. The pain was blinding, sending your vision into a white hot pulses. You screamed, holding the broken appendage to your body, as though that would protect you. You didn’t dare look down at it; knowing you’d be sick at the sight if you did, of your arm dangling uselessly at an unnatural angle. Instead, you curled yourself up into the fetal position, cradling your arm close to your core. 
Jade began pacing the room, tugging at her hair and mumbling to herself. You couldn’t quite make out what she was saying– you only caught snippets of words, like “fucking whore,” and “mine.” The girl had completely lost it, had completely gone off the deep end. Meanwhile, you suspected you were going into shock as you listened to the rat-a-tat-tat of your rapid heartbeat. 
No. You cocked your head, listening. That wasn’t the sound of your heart, beating out of your chest– that was the sound of gunfire echoing through the bowels of the base. You strained your ears. Mixed within the gunshots, you could hear screaming, voices crying out in agony and then cut short, as if their owners suddenly lost access to their breath. 
Through the distant din, you could make out a familiar voice, roaring with rage, and the sound filled your heart up like a balloon. “POCKET!”
You started laughing again.
Jade turned to look at you, her expression furious. 
“I feel sorry for you, Vixen,” you said, grinning like a madwoman. “Me?” she asked you incredulously. “I just snapped your arm like a fucking twig and am going to enjoy the shit out of killing you nice and slowly, and you feel sorry for me?”
You nodded vigorously, gleefully noting that the sound of battle was growing closer. Bucky called for you again, his voice contorted with rage and worry. Jade turned her head toward the sound, noticing it for the first time. “Yup,” you agreed, forcing yourself to stand and face her. You could feel the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth as you smiled from ear to ear. “Seems like my boyfriend’s looking for me, and when he sees what you’ve done, he’s going to kick your fucking ass.”
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
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formula1blog · 2 days
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Bust the windows out your car
Part 1 - Traitor
Part 2- Take me back to the night we met
Part 3- You are here
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EX Charles Leclerc x Singer Fem!reader
Summary: You publish a new album dedicated to your ex. And maybe let yourself get a little crazy.
Wc: 824
A/N: All the songs belong to their right full owners.
Tag list: @loloekie @callsignwidow
It had been a couple days since everything took place. There had been lots of breakdowns, calls from Charles, hating yourself and more break downs. There wasn't a day when Charles wouldn't text you. Messages were flowing in and you let them all read. You knew that if you spoke to him, you forget everything that happens the moment you see his green eyes. You jump right back into his arms.
Right now you were sitting on the couch, talking about your new album. "I don't know if it is a good idea," Pierre pointed out. "It is still illegaal and you probably have to pay for a new one." He had listened to your idea of shooting a video clip for your new single "Bust the window out of your car." Your idea was to go back to his apartment and look for his Ferrari in the garage. It would be great to let your anger out.
"I don't care about having to buy a new one. It is about sending a message and having a great clip for the single. He needs to know about the pain I go trough. This wasn't just some game for me. " Kika had cheered you on. She had gone with you to buy some baseball bats to hit the windows in. It was a red one to match the car and all of Charles's red flags.
You had written two songs about smashing his car. The other one was called 'Before you cheat'. You wanted to have prove by your lyrics.
The next day you found yourself back in Monaco. Everywhere you looked it reminded you of him. You knew Charles would be away at this time, still knowing his calendar by heart.
Walking inside the garage it didn't take long to spot the red Ferrari. Deep down it did hurt knowing your were going to ruin a piece of art, but it was the consequences he had to deal with. "There you are. I want to apolise for what is going to happen." You spoke to it like it understood you.
Pierre stood at the entrance looking out if no one was coming down stairs. He didn't like this. He knew that Charles wouldn't report you to the police, at least he hoped he wouldn't, that thought calmed him down a bit. But then Charles is also hurt. You never know what comes out of that.
The camera was pointing right at the car, which was gladly standing alone with no other cars around it. You didn't want to accidentally ruin someone else car.
Before you knew it you had hit in one of the windows and glass was flying everywhere. You grabbed one of your keys to leave a puncture in the tyre. Doing some poses on the hood of the red car and laying on top of it. You mounted the lyrics of the song pointing your head to the camera. 
Time went by and you had all of the material you needed for the clip. The car was ruined, but he deserved it. He can afford a new one. Just like he can afford a new girlfriend. You look around hoping no one spotted you/ "Where is Pierre?" You ask as you cannot find him anymore. Kika looked at you with a pity face. "Charles was here. Pierre went after him. " Your eyes widens at the mention of Charles. He was here? He didn't stop you? Kika shrugs her shoulders as if she knew what you were thinking. "Don't pay attention to him." You gathered up your stuff and left behind all the pieces of your broken heart. 
Y/N!L/N: New album out!!!! Stream ' Sixteen' on all platforms.
Y/N!L/N
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I want to thank to people who helped me get trough a hard time. I love you all.<3
-----
KiKaGomez: 🩷🩷🩷
KikaGomez: Absolute great music as always
-> Y/N!L/N: Thank you, gorgeous
Pierregasly: bonne musique, Y/n
-> Y/N!L/N: Merci Beaucoup Pierre
LoveYn: Mother is mothering
ILoveYN: Did anyone see that video clip by "bust the window out your cars??????????????????
-> f1b1tch: Yess, it looks a lot like his own car
-> carsf1: She ruined a ferarri
Totwolfflove: Charles is in the likes
-> Slutforyn: This is not a drill
SlayYn: Finally, new song. I love them all
F1Yn: Did they really break uo??
-> ClYn: I think. Pretty sure the album is about Charles and it are not nice songs.
-> F1addict: He is still in the likes
MaxVerstappen1: great album
-> User729: Max?????
-> mvetcl: Arianna, what are you doing here?
-> Y/N!LN: Thank you Max
Charlesleclerc: ❤️
-> User92: The audacity this man has
->ynlovw: Delulu much
-> Pierregasly: Mate, wtf
-> F1yn: Even Pierre is confused
Do you want another part?
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itsmariejanel · 2 days
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78. best friend
previous [.beginning.] next > transcript under the cut
Jace - Evanora!! There you are! Evanora - Jace! You startled me- Jace - Girl, where did you get that cigarette?  Evanora - … Jace - No actually, why are you smoking?  Evanora - Hey! You smoke! Jace - Not the point, not my question, miss Cordova!  Evanora - I- Nickelback! Jace - Wait, the band or the safe word?  Evanora - Huh? The safe word of course... Why would I even use it in any other wayyyy- Jace - Alrightttt, we’re gonna sit and you’re gonna tell me what’s happening-
Jace - Eva… Did something happen? Do you not wanna get married anymore? Evanora - Of course I wanna get married!! Grace is the love of my life and I wanna spend the rest of my days with her… I do! It’s just… Evanora - Jacey, I’m exhausted… The visions have been a lot lately and they’re quite… irregular? sometimes! So uhm, I’m just trying to manage all these feelings that I have right now, you know? About the future that lies ahead- And, like always, I can’t talk about it…But yeah i’m… Overwhelmed! Jace - Your type of power is a lot to deal with. You are one of a kind, literally. There is no one like you and there hasn’t been in centuries-Evanora - Jaaaaace!! I thought you were trying to help me instead of overwhelming me more?  Jace - [ smiles ] Stop being a baby and hear me out!! The thing is, you are the strongest of them all, in every way, and I see that right now that even in your pain, you tell me you can’t talk about it… I mean, you don’t break, ever- Breaking is okay, you know? Not saying you should break your Oath, but you gotta give yourself the grace to feel weak sometimes, it’s okay. It’s natural, it’s human… But we’re all here for you! You’re not alone in this and you’ve never been. I know I’m far away now, but you’re my best friend, and that will never change Eva! There’s not one thing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?  Evanora - Jace… 
Jace - Alright, makeup is fixed, dress isn’t burnt-  Are you ready? Evanora - Wait… Evanora - Alrighty, we’re ready!!  Jace - Wait a minute, where was the little devil all this time? Evanora - You should already know, he’s always lurking- Zeus - * purrs *
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